★★★★★ Jansons is searching and galvanizing in the Verdi Requiem--expect things you haven't heard before

Verdi: Requiem

I've surprised myself by becoming a fan of Mariss Jansons, a conductor who was suddenly hit with inspiration with his Bavarian Radio Symphony. There's vitality and sparkling new ideas coming from Germany that we haven't heard in Amsterdam. Irony prevails; I'm glad Jansons is leaving the Concertgebouw instead of the Bavarian Radio Symphony, even though most critics will tell you that the Concertgebouw is the better orchestra.

Jansons is releasing his new Verdi Requiem just over a year after Decca released Barenboim's reading with La Scala, including star soloists Anja Harterost, Elina Garanca, Jonas Kaufmann, and Rene Pape. Jansons' quartet of  Krassimira Stoyanova, Marina Prudenskaja, Saimir Pirgu, and Orlin Anastassov isn't on the same level. Pirgu's Ingemisco is refined and lyrical, a far cry from Kauffman's effusive power.

But I don't mean to carp. If the soloists are actually quite good, it's the man at the podium that drives this performance. We open with soft, sensitive expectancy, the Bavarian Radio Choir sounding full and gorgeous, almost hymn-like. For a little while, I wondered if Jansons was too refined. The start of Dies Irae favors resplendence over terror, but the deeper into the work I went, the more I was enamored with the inner drama.  Jansons isn't aiming for outright terror or grandeur, but the power of the orchestra is incredible, and there's a feeling of urgency in the pulse, an incredible eye for the shadows. And the first desk players are rapturous; note the bassoon solo deeper into Dies Irae. Passages that usually sound ordinary jump out with resounding novelty.

What's so striking is that Jansons takes his voicing ability and uses it to build the interpretation. So many conductors, including Rattle in Berlin, are routinely guilty of using the super virtuoso sound in exchange for an actual interpretation. Actually, that describes a lot of what has happened to Jansons in Holland. But here the voicing is used to build the interpretation, one that has many layers of sound, almost onion-like, all without sounding mannered. The harrowing, gripping feel is unmistakable, lending emotional impact and a whole new dimension.

Really, Jansons makes the work less operatic, more spiritual. The work makes more sense as a Requiem, instead of sounding like a church service gone awry. But the drama is only escalated in the process. If the ideal Verdi Requiem is the one the listener will be quickest to run to when faced with personal tragedy, this one could top the list. I can't praise Jansons enough for his sensitive involvement, which once again leaves me a thorough believer.