Dvorák’s wonderful Requiem differs from the major Masses of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Verdi and Brahms in at least one significant respect: in entering the high-flung halls of prayer, Dvorák places his familiar musical personality on hold and for the duration submits absolutely to a devotional mood. Gone for the most part is the Slavonic Dvorák, Dvorák the dancer and nature lover, the great pantheist with an eye for meadowlands and rolling hills. Instead, the Requiem’s musical poetry turns inward and there’s a sense of awe that at times approximates the larger choral works of Bruckner.

The “Dies irae” is grimly insistent and the Parsifal-like use of brass and tam-tam at the start of the “Tuba mirum” is supremely effective, though the lyrical “Recordare” is very characteristic. The work’s second part, which starts with the Offertorium, offers the greater comfort and generally lighter shades, the thundering central climax of the closing “Agnus Dei” (disc 2, tr 3, from 5'49") quite overwhelming on this magnificent recording, a credible rival to Ancerl (DG), Kertész (Decca) and most particularly Armin Jordan (Warner). The singing is consistently fine, both solo and in ensemble, and the sheer range of colour achieved by the Vienna Singverein, whether in rapt pianissimo or when singing their hearts out in the “Agnus Dei”, at times defies belief.

The most recent rival to Jansons – with Neeme Järvi conducting the London Philharmonic’s forces in full cry, and recorded at almost exactly the same time – was much praised in these pages, and with good reason (1/10). It’s a fair bit swifter than this Jansons version, though that exultant last climax makes less of an impact, principally because an important counter-idea at its crown is partially obscured. Also, there’s some less-than-tight string ensemble early on in the “Dies irae”. The fill-up on the present double-pack (Järvi’s set doesn’t have one) is a “very Mariss Jansons” performance of the Eighth Symphony that toys with dynamics in pursuit of maximum expressive effect, especially in the first movement, and after the Allegretto grazioso’s Trio, the hushed return on the strings of the principal theme.

I like Jansons’s capricious handling of those chirpy woodwind figurations in the Adagio and although at times “character” stoops to mannerism, it’s a real performance and a worthy makeweight for a magnificent reading of the Requiem, which is a real feather in Jansons’s cap, CD-wise. Both recordings are superb.