Bohuslav Martinu: Field Mass / Leos Janácek: Cantata Amarus - Czech Philharmonic Orchestra & Chorus / Sir Charles Mackerras

Sir Charles Mackerras recorded these two Czech symphonic choral works by Bohuslav Martinů and Leoš Janáček together in 1985. Both have since been reissued separately alongside other works: Martinů’s Field Mass  on Supraphon  with his other orchestral music and Janáček’s Amarus is paired with his Glagolitic Mass, also  on Supraphon , and they are both these same performances under Mackerras.Martinů’s musical voice is so striking. His 25-minute Field Mass is a quirky arrangement for male chorus, baritone soloist, winds, percussion, piano, and harmonium, an odd layout for sure, but remarkably effective. It is the men’s chorus that works the best for me; Martinů has a strong hand writing for chorus, and they give this quasi-Mass setting an electric fervor aside some affecting, thick a cappella singing in the finale. The winds and percussion drive home the military aspect of this music, but it is never saccharine or trite. The piano and harmonium lend a bit of Martinů quirk, but the Field Mass is well worth hearing.I am not as enamoured with Janáček’s Amarus, a rarely-heard cantata whose tragically Gothic story is a bit more interesting than its musical setting. Regardless, like Martinů, Janáček has an engaging, singular musical voice and compared to the Field Mass, Amarus has some lovely tunes to tie the 30-minute 5-movement work together effectively, yet while the full-orchestral setting seems a bit more traditional, it oozes mood and atmosphere. There is a lot of orchestral colour too - the percussive, brass-laden finale is worth the ticket price alone. The solo singing is a little more turgid, drippingly conveying the fatal story, and the choral work is a tad more symphonic in scope, but in the end it all leaves me a bit dry, ala Bartók’s Cantata Profana, another darkly-wooded Bohemian choral tale.What I cannot fault is the excellent playing by the Czech Philharmonic, wonderful singing by the Czech Philharmonic chorus, and strong leadership from Mackerras. Supraphon captures the orchestra well in all its Czech glory - lovely string work, aromatically piquant winds, and strong brass and percussion; the piano and harmonium are also well heard. Furthermore, the chorus is hearty and well-balanced, and Supraphon places them confidently in the soundscape; no fear of lost words or choral textures in this recording. The same could be said of the soloists, although their Slavic vocal style doesn’t always appeal to me.On record, there isn’t too much to choose from in these symphonic choral works, although Mackerras’ strong performances don’t really need further looking. The Field Mass can be found  on Chandos  with these exact same Czech choral and orchestral forces 8 years later under Jiří Bělohlávek, but his orchestral pairings are not appealing to me. Amarus can also be found  on Praga  under Václav Neumann, but those live radio broadcasts do not afford the same sonic experience as Mackerras here on Supraphon.If you are interested in exploring Janáček and Martinů’s music, I probably wouldn’t start here, but this is interesting music in strong performances and sound. The liner notes are in Japanese and English with texts and translations, the result of an odd licensing deal with Denon and Nippon Columbia. Recommended.

Martinu wrote the Field Mass in 1939, and it is inspired by hearing, in exile, about Germany's invasion of Czechoslovakia (it was written to honor Czech volunteers fighting in the French army). Though the libretto, by Jiri Mucha, is based on psalm texts and liturgical texts, it interleaves such passages with prayers for and reminiscences about the homeland, and the work as a whole is a cantata rather than a mass setting. It's a grim, defiant and powerful work for solo baritone, male chorus and orchestra, and although it doesn't really sport much by way particularly memorable melodic material (some of the wistful, reflective passages apart), it weighs up for that to a large extent by its striking and unique sound world, an archaic-sounding and grave mass proceeding interrupted and gradually overshadowed by intense and dire warnings and messages of war - occasionally it moves to reflective wistfulness (Martinu is good at these transitions here), but ultimately moves to grim and even menacing defiance. It is, perhaps, not Martinu's greatest work, but it is surely a memorable experience.Janacek's cantata Amarus dates from 1897, which means that it is, for Janacek (at 43), an early work, dating from before his really unique, mature style had fully developed. As such, Amarus is overall more conventional in terms of drama, development and orchestration than some of his later works. Nevertheless, many of the hallmarks of his later style are there, and there is no mistaking the identity of the composer even from hearing a few, brief passages. The choral writing, for instance, is characteristically Janacek, as is the use of ostinatos and much of the melodic material. I have to admit that I was a bit uncertain by the opening movements when I first heard the work, but it certainly grew on me, and the final three movements are superb, sporting for instance one of Janacek's most gorgeous big tunes, and the work as a whole builds up to a marvelously stirring finale. No fan of the composer should be without this one.Fortunately - and not surprisingly - the performances of both works are first rate. Mackerras, of course, is one of the most foremost interpreters of both composers, and leads the Czech Philharmonic Chorus and Orchestra in vivid, effectively shaped and powerful performances. The soloists are good, too, but placed a bit too close - otherwise the sound is clear and spacious. A truly rewarding release.