Recorded live on 1 April 1954, this previously
unreleased performance makes Ramin’s efforts available half a century after his death in 1956.
Those familiar with some modern performances of this work should notice the somewhat
meditative tempos that Ramin used in this work. The opening conveys, for example, a more
atmospheric approach to the work, which is borne out in the choral textures that are evident in
this recording. Monaural by nature, the orchestral forces seem subdued, with the choral forces
more prominent than usual. It is not an unwelcome result, since the chorus is remarkably
nuanced, with the boys’ voices evincing a pure and solid tone that uniquely colors the
Ramin’s tempos with the first movement tend to be slower than usual, with the pacing of the
second movement seeming more marchlike in character. The quiet opening of the movement
conveys a sense of emotional distance that Ramin brings into his interpretation of this work. The
austere sonorities offer a different perspective than some give the work, thus reflecting the more
classically oriented side of Brahms, even within this less-than-traditional treatment of a Requiem,
with its idiosyncratic texts chosen from Scripture in lieu of the conventional Latin Mass.
The third movement is particularly revealing for the interplay between textures, with the solo
parts taken by the baritone Gerhard Niese. Niese’s performance is laudable, but sometimes
overshadowed by the choral forces that weave around the baritone part in this concerto-like
movement in which the text of Psalm 39 resolves, as it were in the verse from the book of
Wisdom, with its assurance of salvation for the just soul. In this movement, the counterpoint is
nicely clear, and it is in such places that the weaknesses of the original recording medium are
apparent. For some reason the sound improves with “Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen,”
perhaps the best-known section of Brahms’ Requiem, and quite effective in Ramin’s treatment of
the music. Near the end of the work, in the sixth movement, the concluding section “Herr, du
bist würdig” is contrastingly more extroverted, with Ramin bringing out the spiritual assurances
implicit in Brahms work.
As a live performance, some ambient sounds are part of the recording, most from the activity on
or near the podium. Audience noise is rare, with the clicking of a baton emerging from time to
time to punctuate the choral timbres. A performance like this may never supplant the famous one
by Klemperer, but Ramin’s stands well on its own merits. Given the fame of the Thomaskirche
and the historically important role of its cantor, this recording offers a fine glimpse into the
musical traditions there in the mid-twentieth century.