Had Alfred Schnittke’s Concerto for Choir been written in 1975 rather than ’85, it would have necessarily been a different piece. Mikhail Gorbachev took office in 1985 and Schnittke, perhaps sniffing the profound change that was about to sweep his country, thought it was timely to reaffirm a core Russian identity. Consequently his Concerto is that rarest of beasts – a Schnittke work that is unequivocally sincere, and evolves organically rather than through a dialogue of competing styles.

Stephen Layton’s recording with the Holst Singers (Hyperion, 4/02) had an ethereal, if moderately plumy, beauty. With the Prague Philharmonic Choir you get authentic east European enunciation and those boomy, sonorous low male voices raise the emotional temperature to at least the power 10. Getting the “right” sound for the Concerto is vital. Schnittke’s basic melodic contours and modal harmonies are rooted in his deep understanding of the Orthodox choral tradition, but he loads his piece with intricate complexities and ambiguous shadings: the occasional tart dissonance tells of now, and ebbing-and-flowing chromatic tumbles are strategically balanced against authentic open “perfect” intervals. The second movement’s conclusion may feel like an anticipation of Holy Minimalism, but this bountiful score makes John Tavener and his like sound like intellectual cowards.

Schnittke’s Requiem was indeed written in 1975 and is full of trademark incongruous clashes and grotesque theatricals. Rockist electric guitars and, in the Credo, a brief input of kit drumming symbolise a spirit of defiance. It’s another powerful performance on an unfailingly top-notch disc.