Die erste Walpurgisnacht, or ''The First Walpurgis Night'', is an odd but interesting work. Mendelssohn based it on a poem by Goethe (not included in Faust) about German druids retreating before the encroachments of Christianity, and defending their celebrations of spring against the curious intruder by disguising themselves as devils and other repulsive creatures. It impressed Berlioz, who may well have been influenced by it in various ways: for instance, Mendelssohn opens with an exhortation as winter changes to spring (''Es lacht der Mai'') and when Berlioz made his Eight scenes from Faust into the Damnation, not long after hearing Mendelssohn's work, he added the opening with Faust welcoming the turn from winter to spring. Mendelssohn remained fond of the work, and toyed with various reworkings of it which never came to anything. As it stands, it is a little awkward for concert programming (though it worked well enough in a Goethe concert in the 1979 Leeds Festival, I thought); it is well worth hearing by those with a feeling for Mendelssohn.
Of the two versions listed above, that by Dohnanyi on Telarc/Conifer is the more dynamic, with some brilliant playing by the Cleveland Orchestra that is let down at times by a recording which obscures some of Mendelssohn's flashing orchestration. Dohnanyi is also rather let down by his soloists. Jon Garrison ushers in the spring in the lugubrious tones of one who feels that no good will come of it; Frieder Lang is more lyrical for Corboz. Even the reliable Tom Krause is off form for Dohnanyi, allowing his tone to spread; Gilles Cachemaille is firmer.
Dohnanyi adds a fine performance of the Scottish Symphony to the cantata. Corboz, as if feeling that the devil must not have all the good tunes, produces some sacred rarities. O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden is a meditation on the Passion Chorale in three movements, the first being a kind of chorale prelude in the manner of Bach, the second a bass solo and the third another treatment of the chorale. It was written in 1830, and is, I think, unpublished. The Kyrie is one of several independent Kyries in Mendelssohn's work, in this case a powerful D minor setting that opens with a trudging movement and passionate harmonies suggesting something of the Mozart of the Requiem. It is a very striking piece, also unpublished and virtually unknown, but nothing is to be learnt about it from the accompanying flimsy notes which ignore the two sacred works (spelling one of them wrong in the titling) and provide no words for the cantata. This sloppiness is more than enough to clinch decision in favour of Dohnanyi for this last work, which means nothing without the text; only the really keen Mendelssohn collector will want to go for the sacred rarities with Corboz.'