Tag: Choral music

Categories
Recording

CAMPRA – MESSE DE REQUIEM

CD cover Campra Messe de Requiem Daucé

Ensemble Correspondances, directed by Sébastien Daucé
69:56
harmonia mundi HMM 902679

There are doubtless many like myself who first became aware of André Campra’s sublime Requiem through the recording made by John Eliot Gardiner in 1979. This new version, by one of today’s most renowned French ensembles, is very different, taking its point of reference not from Campra’s period as maître de musique at Notre-Dame in Paris (1694-1700), but a new theory as to the provenance of a work that has always been surrounded by mystery as to its original purpose and date of composition. That is explained in the scholarly note by Thomas Leconte in harmonia mundi’s booklet. It is too complex to go into detail here, but it makes a convincing argument for suggesting the Mass is unlikely to have been written for either Notre-Dame or the chapelle royale, where Campra became one of the sous-maîtres from 1723. That leaves open the suggestion that it was the Mass directed by Campra in 1700 at the Église des Mathurins for the funeral service of Louis Boucherat, Chancellor of France.   

That the Requiem was therefore most likely written for less grand surroundings than Notre-Dame or the Chapelle Royale probably explains the reasoning behind the substantially smaller forces in the present performance than are usually heard in the work. Given its nature, which chooses neither to stress the terror of death, nor to bathe in grief, but rather create an ambiance alternating between spiritual rest and the joy to be found in the light and peace attained in death, the more intimate forces are highly effective. This philosophy is clearly laid out in the opening words of the Introit, where the blissfully flowing polyphonic lines of ‘Requiem aeternam’ (Eternal rest …) give way at ‘et lux perpetua’ (and let perpetual light) to delicate dancing rhythms that remind us that Campra is today best remembered as the creator of the opéra-ballet. This dual approach dominates this infinitely touching work, which in keeping with the style of French sacred works of the 17th century flexibly alternates the chorus with a smaller petit-choeur that participates in solos or solo ensembles. It is one of the measures of the outstanding qualities of Sébastian Daucé’s performances that he has not only artists of the known stature of soprano Caroline Weynants and alto Lucile Richardot included in his petit-choeur, but less familiar names such as haute-contre Rodrigo Carreto and tenor François Joron also make distinguished contributions. The latter’s beautifully sustained line in Agnus Dei I is just one of the highlights of a performance that overall is of the highest quality.

It is something of a paradox that having persuasively convinced us that the Requiem has nothing to do with Notre-Dame, the subtitle of the CD is ‘& Les Maîtres de Notre-Dame de Paris’, the remainder of it being devoted to the 17th-century predecessors of Campra. Of these, the earliest is Jean Veillot (ca1600–62), composer of a simple, but effective Ave verum corpus, who succeeded his teacher Henry Frémart in the post in 1640, going on to become a sous-maître at the Chapelle-Royale, a familiar route for French composers. Veillot’s successor at Notre-Dame was François Cosset (ca1610–ca1673), substantial portions of whose six-part Mass ‘Domine salvum fac regem’ are included, as is the source motet by Veillot. The notes wax lyrical about the quality of the work, which seems to me a rather unremarkable setting largely employing old-fashioned Renaissance polyphony, but also syllabic homophony. The disc is completed by two fine motets by Pierre Robert (ca1622–99), one, ‘Tristis est anima mea’ being a brief setting of the words of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane, ‘My soul is sorrowful even unto death’, the closely-worked polyphony of the early part giving way to rhetorical emphasis at the point of Christ’s accusation to his disciples, ‘Vos fugem capietas’ (You shall run away).

A splendid addition to Ensemble Correspondances’ distinguished series of recordings of both sacred and secular music of the French Baroque.

Brian Robins

Categories
Recording

Byrd: The Great Service & English Anthems

Alamire, His Majestys Sagbutts & Cornetts, Stephen Farr, David Skinner
77:20
INVENTA INV1015

This recording of Byrd’s mighty and magnificent Great Service and seven Anglican anthems has two purposes. It concludes Alamire’s project marking the quatercentenary of Byrd’s passing in 1623, after their two acclaimed albums of his complete secular song collections of 1588 and 1589 (INV1006, 2021 and 1011, 2023); and it celebrates the centenary of the first complete performance in three centuries of the Great Service, which was “rediscovered” just after the First World War.

Given a work of this quality and quantity – seven movements for ten voices, the most for which Byrd ever composed – it is surprising that there has been so little inquisitiveness about why he wrote it. Certainly it is not the sort of work anyone would write on a whim, or on the off chance of a random performance, or because they couldn’t sleep. The liturgical context – the Church of England’s services of Mattins (three movements), Holy Communion and Evensong (two each) – and the resources that are required suggest some major celebration. In fairness, because it was not printed at the time, there is no evidence from surviving manuscript sources or contemporary writings, and we are left clutching at circumstantial straws, such as the likely dating of the earliest sources, which renders the fortieth anniversary of the Queen’s accession a possibility. Unsurprisingly surviving sources can be located to only a limited number of major choral establishments.

In a piece that is simply so good throughout its entire length, selecting certain passages for appreciation gives an impression that other passages are not worthy of such attention. This is misleading, as every phrase and passage and movement warrants appreciation, but even in this work of such consistent excellence, there are a few passages of transcendent quality. Two will suffice here. The closing text of the Te Deum (the second canticle at Mattins) is “Let me never be confounded”. Byrd does not eschew repetition in his settings during this work, but nowhere else does his setting become not only so emphatic, but also so emotional, exuding both pathos and passion. Was he even expressing guilt and seeking forgiveness from his God over his employment as a known Roman Catholic within the Protestant Established Church? The second passage is the Amen to the Magnificat (the first canticle at Evensong). Usually it is the Amen to its partner, the Nunc Dimittis, which receives the plaudits, led by E.H. Fellowes, the work’s putative rediscoverer and first editor, and this indeed rounds off the work majestically. But perhaps because of the association of the Magnificat with the Virgin Mary, this might have piqued the interest of the Catholic Byrd more profoundly, and one wonders whether he was showing these Protestants, who were more sceptical about the Virgin, a thing or two about the heights to which the mother of Christ could inspire him as a Catholic composer.

The seven anthems selected from the relatively small number that Byrd composed for the Church of England cover most of Byrd’s composing career, from the early Out of the deep with its debt to Byrd’s mentor Sheppard, to the almost madrigalian Exalt thyself O Lord and O God the proud are risen against me. All differ from one another within the constraints of decorum required for the Elizabethan Church, and a point has been made of including those least served by commercial recordings, notably the understated but exquisite O God whom our offences have justly displeased. Most familiar is what is best known as O Lord make thy servant Elizabeth which became performed with increasing frequency during the reign of the late Queen Elizabeth II. The original version had its text adapted several times up until the reign of Queen Anne in the eighteenth century, twice to reflect Charles I and II; past and present come together for its presence on this recording as O Lord make thy servant Charles its sonorous and beautiful Amen bringing the proceedings to an appropriate conclusion.

Also included are Byrd’s three keyboard settings of the plainsong Clarifica me pater in successively two, three and four parts. They are among his finest and most popular pieces for organ and are played here by Stephen Farr, surely the finest living exponent of Byrd’s music on the organ. His accompaniments to the Service and anthems are faultless both in execution and in what is currently known of Elizabethan practice.

This leads to a consideration of the use of winds to accompany the Service. There is no specific evidence for this in the surviving manuscripts nor in any contemporary writings, but there is evidence of the use of cornetts and sackbutts at certain grand services, and of the numbers employed here. Given the grandeur of the music in the Great Service, it seems credible that if winds were used anywhere, it would be for a work such as this, and His Majesty’s Sagbutts & Cornetts make the best possible case for their inclusion.

The actual signing is in the hands, or rather the voices, of Alamire, themselves a roll call of Britain’s finest exponents of vocal music from this period. In both verse and full passages their blend is excellent, and they are directed cogently by David Skinner, himself a former cathedral layclerk and nowadays a prominent musicologist specializing in the Renaissance whose recent and current academic projects feature Sheppard and Tallis. The recording quality is ideal, with just the right amount of resonance from the venue, All Hallows, Gospel Oak in London. Very occasionally the highest and lowest notes in a passage are lost: the booklet draws attention to a fleeting but significant dissonance early in the Venite at the words “in the strength” but the bass is indistinct at this point; and in the Magnificat the very high note atop the chord at the climactic word “hearts” is almost inaudible. Otherwise, this is a sonic triumph, complementing the majesty of Byrd’s musical creation.

There are six other recordings of the complete Great Service currently available: three by mixed adult choirs and three by ecclesiastical choirs. Musica Contexta (Chandos CHAN 0789) is the only other one to use winds, and their disc is valuable for the inclusion of two of Byrd’s elusive and neglected festal psalms, one of which is otherwise only on an LP long deleted. Also they were the only choir until Alamire to include the passage “O Lord let thy mercy lighten upon us as our trust is in thee”, which survives in just two sources, originating from Worcester and Gloucester. The Odyssean Ensemble use an organ accompaniment in a wiry rendition which omits the Kyrie (Linn CKD608). The Cardinall’s Musick (Hyperion CDA67937) are disappointingly pared down from a live performance double the size prior to the making of this recording. Of the ecclesiastical choirs, the version by King’s College, Cambridge (EMI CDC 7477712, 1987, now available as a download 9029532656 on Warner Classics) was hailed at the time in one daily broadsheet newspaper as what King’s choir “is all about”. They used an edition by James Wrightson that took into account new research about surviving indications of full and verse passages, similar to those subsequently adopted by Craig Monson for his edition of the work as volume 10b of The Byrd Edition published by Stainer and Bell. Westminster Abbey (Hyperion CDA67533) includes a fine selection of filler anthems and distinguished organ playing by Robert Quinney. Historically the most intriguing of all these, and arguably the finest, is the recording originally from 1981 by The Saint Thomas Choir of Men and Boys, Fifth Avenue, New York, the only Episcopalian (Anglican in England) church with its own choir school. This version was reissued as a download in 2023 and on CD as a double album early this year to mark the quatercentenary of Byrd’s passing in 1623 (Signum Classics SIGCD776). It is paired with the current choir (2022) singing his Mass for Four Voices and Propers for Corpus Christi (see my review for EMR dated 17 January 2024). Focusing on the 1981 choir, this is the only ecclesiastical version that is unaccompanied, The layclerks of the day included the likes of Drew Minter among the countertenors, and the boys were stunning. Reassuringly today’s choir is just as fine. This is a recording to cherish.

Alamire’s version emerges as the most distinguished among the chamber choirs, being the only one to field the vocal resources adequate to reflect surviving evidence regarding full, verse, and antiphonal (decani and cantoris halves of the choir alternating) passages in contemporary performances. The ecclesiastical choirs exude a different ethos and timbre. They are of course more authentic in performance (and in numbers), but it has been argued that since treble voices in Byrd’s day could last until boys were towards the end of their teens, they would not have sounded dissimilar to those of the adult females in mixed chamber choirs of today. As ever, choice lies with the customer. You would be well served by Alamire and, within an appropriate level of engagement with the text for the singing of Anglican liturgical music in the Elizabethan Church, you will find consummate artistry giving forth a simmering account of Byrd’s sublime music.

Richard Turbet

Categories
Recording

Bach: St John Passion

CD cover Bach St John Passion Cantata Collective McGegan

Cantata Collective, Nicholas McGegan
114:41 (2 CDs in a card triptych)
Avie AVIE 2605

This performance of the Johannes-Passion from the Cantata Collective under Nicholas McGegan was recorded live in Berkley in Passiontide 2022, and bears the hallmarks of what to many people is their essential annual Passiontide experience: singing or playing in a live Bach Passion. Throughout its performance history from the year in which it what first written – 1724 – till the final performance in 1749, Bach used the same set of parts – revising them each time. So – apart from the second performance on Good Friday 1725 when, in the year devoted his second, chorale-based, cantata cycle – Bach made a considerable number of changes which he never used again. All subsequent performances were essentially similar and we have no means of knowing whether changes were dictated by constant trial in search of perfection, changes of circumstance, or some other external circumstance as McGegan says in his liner-notes.

The band has two upper strings to a part, so numbers fifteen in all, playing period instruments. The Collective is 12 singers, to which are added six ‘soloists’ with an independent Evangelist and Jesus in addition to those who sing the arias, none of whom – as far as I can judge – takes part in the choruses: in this sense, it is an old-style performance, with McGegan directing from the sparingly used harpsichord.

The Evangelist Thomas Cooley is ideal – nimble, and with a story-teller’s command of the German narrative; the bass who sings Jesus is clearly articulated and the basso continuo when he sings is suitably weighted. The chorus in the turba parts are a bit careful so some of the interchange in the central section before Pilate lack that edge some professional singers can bring to it, but their Lasset uns den nicht zerteilen is splendidly managed, as is the chorale in Mein teurer Heiland.

The aria tempi are moderate, and of the aria singers, the soprano is too wobbly for my taste, as is the chorus member who sings the Maid (and that goes for the top line in the chorus throughout); but the others are splendid – the Arioso Betrachte and the aria Erwege lyric and rhythmic, Eilt is well balanced and the Alto in Es ist Vollbracht sustains his line with the gamba well. The best of the arias is Mein teurer Heiland. Here the lyrical 12/8 cello obbligato is truly matched by the bass, Harrison Hintzsche, whose experience as a consort singer makes him for me the star among the solo singers.

What makes this performance so distinctive is the energy and commitment of the ensemble. We hear not just one more concert performance, but a radiant Good Friday liturgy, where John’s Gospel comes alive. From early times, it has been John’s account of the Passion that has formed the centre-piece of Good Friday’s worship, so underlining the theological truth that in the crucifixion and death of Jesus the work of redemption has been triumphantly concluded and new life has been freely offered. Bach understood this, so immediately after Jesus dies on the cross, a jaunty cello obbligato in 12/8 launches the aria Mein teurer Heiland in D major, the key of trumpets and resurrection. This sense that the crucified Christ reigns from the cross as he inaugurates his new creation pervades the whole of this recording, and McGegan’s infectious energy is almost tangible throughout. As a modern HIP version, it will not please the purists on every page, but as a record of the power of the Johannes-Passion to inspire and move, it scores highly.

David Stancliffe

Categories
DVD
DVD cover Mozart Don Giovanni Jarry

Robert Gleadow (bs), Arianna Vendittelli (sop), Florie Valiquette (sop), et al, Ballet, Choeur & Orchestre de l’Opéra Royal de Versailles, conducted by Gaétan Jarry
184:00
Versailles Spectacles CVS115 (DVD & BlueRay)

This video stems from performances of a new production of Don Giovanni given by the Opéra Royal in the ravishing 18th-century court theatre in the palace of Versailles in November 2023. Generously both a DVD and a Blu Ray disc are included in the package; I viewed the DVD. Having been present on the opening night, I’m disappointed that on my admittedly not-wonderful TV, the picture of the stage is considerably darker than it was in the theatre. Of course, much of Don Giovanni takes place at night or least evening so that is to be expected to some extent but this stage picture frequently lacks clarity. The set itself, unchanging but for backdrops that aid in identifying the action as interior or exterior, is a town square in roughly star shape, the buildings including a couple with galleries for such scenes as Giovanni serenading Elvira’s maid. In general, it all works well, though the Commendatore’s statue turning up on Elvira’s doorstep seems a little incongruous.

The delightful multi-hued and busily decorated costumes owe an obvious debt to the commedia dell’arte tradition and interestingly both the Don and Leporello wear near-identical clothing, maybe as a suggestion that the latter is merely a more plebeian copy of his master. The link with commedia dell’arte was also apparent in the direction by Marshall Pynkoski, whose stated intention had been to make the piece fun. And indeed much fun was elicited, notable for the sheer exuberance and dynamism of such numbers as Leporello’s ‘Catalogue’ aria (although would he have behaved toward Elvira with quite that degree of familiarity?) or the finale of Act 1, which also benefitted from the spirited choreography of Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg. Yet paradoxically the scenes that remain lodged in the mind are some of the more dramatic and serious moments. The supper scene, notoriously difficult to bring off convincingly, is outstandingly done, the swirling silvery mists around the magnificently authoritative statue of the Commendatore chilling in effect. Less commendable is the decision to allow the raucous laughter of the Don to have the final word. It contradicts the ultimate message of the opera, articulated in the words of the final ensemble: ‘This is the end that befalls evildoers’.

That the opening scene has a thrilling dramatic verve, can be not least attributed to the strongly projected Donna Anna of Florie Valiquette, who also responded to the recognition that Don Giovanni was her father’s killer with an accompagnato and succeeding aria ‘Or sai chi l’onore’ with real intensity and thrilling tone. In act 2 ‘Non mi dir’ and its preceding accompagnato bring another special moment, an oasis of stillness in the midst of manic activity. The Elvira of Arianna Vendittelli was also a performance of outstanding quality, culminating in a ‘Mi tradi’ that, with its preceding accompagnato brought another scena of interior and touching quality, a revelation of the vulnerability of a woman hopelessly in love.

The performance of Robert Gleadow as the object of that love, his first Don, occasions a more mixed reaction. Characterful and strongly and securely sung, Gleadow’s  Giovanni projects a predator of animal energy. It was much in keeping with the kind of Don most producers tend to encourage these days. Yet it is a creation that not only overlooks the fact that Don Giovanni is a nobleman, not a slob that puts his feet on the table when eating dinner but, equally importantly that Francesco Benucci, the singer for whom Mozart created the role, was renowned for the finesse and grace of his singing and acting. Interestingly, when Don Giovanni was repeated in Vienna (it was of course written for Prague), Benucci sang Leporello; it is easy to imagine Riccardo Novaro’s outstanding Leporello stepping into the Don’s shoes. As indeed also applies to Jean-Gabriel Saint Martin, whose richly rounded Masetto was a revelation, one of the best I have seen. A more general observation regarding the singing is the tasteful and appropriate decoration added. Not the least aspect of the generally favourable impression of the cast was the manner in which it responded to Pynkoski’s long experience as a director who seeks to work with gesture and historically informed theatre, much in evidence in the highly effective groupings of the ensemble numbers – the production of the great act 2 sextet was a special highlight in this respect.

It is sad to have to report that amidst this truly excellent performance a large fly lurked in the ointment. In his fine book on the birth of conducting, Peter Holman has convincingly argued that the piano never superseded the harpsichord as a continuo instrument, yet opera conductors continue to employ it. Yet rarely can the piano have been put to such damaging use as it is here, where trite teashop tinkling pervades not only recitatives but at times also the orchestral texture, most ludicrously in the Don’s canzonetta, ‘Deh, vieni’, where what is supposed to be his mandolin accompaniment enters into a forlorn duel with the fortepiano.

Notwithstanding this blot on the performance, this was a splendid achievement all round, thoroughly enjoyable and insightful. Although not always in full agreement with Pynkoski’s work, I do admire without reservation the rare integrity he brings to all he does. This Don Giovanni is no exception.

Brian Robins

Categories
Recording

JS Bach & JC Bach: Motets

CD cover Solomon's Knot Bach motets

Solomon’s Knot
Prospero PROSP0073

This recording of the Bach Motets (BWV 225-230) also includes Ich lasse dich nicht (BWV 1164 – or Anhang 159) and four by Johann Christoph Bach: Lieber herr Gott, Der Gerechte, ob er gleich, Fürchte dich nicht and Herr, nun lässet du deinen Diener in Friede fahren. These motets from the Alt-Bachisches Archiv, known to have been performed by Johann Sebastian in the last decade of his life, are performed at A=440 with a higher pitched organ, while the motets by Johann Sebastian are sung at A=415 with a slightly more substantial instrument and occasionally a large violone.

These performances are committed, with Solomon’s Knot’s characteristic off-copy style of singing, meaning that their ensemble is faultless. Their admirers will love these readings recorded in the generous acoustic of the Bachkirche in Arnstadt. There are no instrumental doublings such as Johann Sebastian provided for the funeral motet Der Geist hilft (BWV 226). Lobet den Herrn (BWV 230) is sung with the voice parts doubled, and the liner-notes refer to the possibility that the genesis of this motet (whose authenticity has sometimes been questioned and the only one where a basso continuo line is absolutely essential) may be a movement from an early cantata, re-purposed for this new use. For the rest, all is much as you would expect.

But not everyone will be content with some of the individualistic mannerisms of each singer. The continuing tradition of formation in boys’ choirs in Germany like the Thomanerchor and the Tölzer Knabenchor ensures a seamless unanimity of sound which few mixed groups of professional singers can emulate. While the two sopranos of Solomon’s Knot give their parts a controlled and pure line in Johann Christoph’s Fürchte dich nicht, in Johann Sebastian’s more complex setting they, with most noticeably the tenors, revert to the ‘one-size-fits-all’ type of voice as their fall-back mode. Notes tied over the bar-line are given a push rather than being left to float in the air, and the squeezing of long notes in a 20th-century manner give a very different overall sound to that produced by groups like Vox Luminis. Listen to the first soprano and the tenor in the Aria section of BWV 225, Singet dem Herrn, for example. Sometimes their obvious enjoyment of this great music unfetters the soloistic inner self that lurks beneath the corporate discipline demanded of all consort singers, as in bars 29ff of BWV 228, Fürchte dich nicht. BWV 229, Komm, Jesu, komm seems to fare a little better than Singet dem Herrn in this respect, perhaps because the singers are in more reflective mode. Perhaps the best performance is in Jesu, meine Freude (BWV 227) where the OVPP lines and the robust organ playing combine to give both a sense of the inherent drama and also a more convincing ensemble.

This is classic singing by highly disciplined professional singers at the top of their game. Whether you think it is a suitable vehicle for the closely wrought, highly ornamented and imitative style of Johan Sebastian’s concerto-style writing in the motets is a different question. For me, the high quality of Solomon’s Knot’s musicianship does not outweigh my sense that this style of singing often fails to deliver the clarity and unanimity of vocal sound that Bach’s intricate and instrumental style of polyphonic writing demands.

David Stancliffe

Categories
Recording

Legrenzi: La morte del cor penitente

CD cover Legrenzi La morte del cor penitente Ensemble Masques

Ensemble Masques, directed by Olivier Fortini
77:28
Alpha-classics Alpha 975

This was one of the very first pieces I edited after graduation from St Andrews, and it was the first I convinced the BBC to record. Nigel Rogers, who sang the role of the sinner in and directed those performances, was a great advocate for the work – and the composer’s music in general. Labeled an oratorio, there is no narrative thread; rather, two sopranos (in the guises of Hope and Penance, as the booklet note translates them) give the tenor options for entering Heaven – he should either repent his sins and accept the pains that are their reward, or succumb to the love that has made him sinful in the first place and trust in Heaven’s pity. The second half opens after he has chosen the path of penitence, and a “Choir and Pains” (from which various members emerge to continue the dialogue with the main character) persuades him that the death of his heart is the only way to secure everlasting life. Perhaps best known today for his chamber music, Legrenzi was one of the leading composers of his day, writing everything from solo motets to operas (including one whose staging involved live elephants!) – much like Handel, who incidentally was familiar with his music, he was an expert in conveying emotions. The present performance embraces the theatricality in a way that I don’t recall from previous outings the score has had, pushing and pulling the tempo to suit the mood and deliberately overlapping the cadences of some sections with the beginnings of others for dramatic effect. Rather naughtily, Ensemble Masques insert extra sinfonie; while these are hardly random points in the work, some mention might have been made in the booklet note. All the more forgivable, of course, when the playing – like most of the singing – is so fabulous. Throughout the piece, the (mostly very short) arias recall those from the set of solo motets published posthumously by his nephew, and the ensembles that end each half have sections that echo passages from the Compline service the composer had published eleven years earlier. This excellent recording vividly highlights the latent dramatic qualities of this fine work.

Brian Clark

Categories
Recording

Leopold I: Requiem, Lectiones

CD cover Leopold I Requiem Weser-Renaissance Cordes

Weser-Renaissance, directed by Manfred Cordes
70:26
cpo 555 078-2

He may have been Holy Roman Emperor but, when listening to this music, we hear a heart-broken man outpouring the unimaginable grief of losing not one but two wives; the former perhaps even his true love, the tragedy made even worse by the fact that she was carrying his unborn son. The Requiem for the Empress Margareta of 1673 is a stunning work in the typical 17th-century patchwork style; each verse of the text is treated differently, and the composer gave himself lots of options by employing muted trumpets and cornetti as well as trombones and strings. The musical architecture of the three Lectiones he wrote three years later for his second wife, Claudia Felicia, was largely dictated by the texts, but even here he creates a clever design whereby the first and third are similar and the second one different from both. This excellent CD is completed by his motet for the Feast of the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which was a major event in the Hapsburg liturgical calendar. The recording was made in 2016 after a festival celebrating the Emperor’s music and it is evident that the performers have been immersed in it – the six singers and 15 instrumentalists (including Jörg Jacobi, author of the booklet note and editor of the music, on organ) give fabulous accounts of this emotionally charged music.

That booklet note should have been copy edited; it presumably started life as a concert programme when the music was performed in a different order… I would also respectfully suggest to Jörg Jacobi that the reason that the separate sections are listed of larger works in the Distinta specificatione is exactly because of the document’s function: it describes the forces required to perform works in the Imperial library.

Brian Clark

Categories
Recording

Mogens Pedersøn: Pratum spirituale

CD cover Mogens Pederson Pratum spirituale Weser-Renaissance
Motets & Hymns
Weser-Renaissance Bremen, Manfred Cordes
60:15
cpo 555 216-2
 
If you have heard of this Danish composer at all, it will almost certainly be through his madrigals. Like many a northern European disciple of the Gabrielis in Venice, his “right of passage” publication was a book of secular music to demonstrate his complete immersion in the Italian style of day. Less well known – but equally impressed for combining that with the needs of the Lutheran church (again, like many of his contemporaries) was his 1620 “Pratum spirituale”, a collection of “masses, psalms and motets… for use in Denmark and Norway”. This engaging recording (you should never expect any less from these forces!) presents a selection of pieces, including a mass for five voices, Latin motets and hymns in Danish. Some are performed tutti, some with solo voice(s) and groups of strings (violin with gambas) or winds (cornetto with sackbutts and dulcian) and continuo, sometimes varying the scoring of the various verses of the hymns. (The booklet listing is wrong for “Ad te levavi”, as only one singer is credited, where I can hear two.) The booklet notes mention Venetian two-choir writing several times, but do not expect to hear any here; “Pratum spirituale” is for five voices. This is a valuable project for illustrating the performance of Latin-texted music (including that mass with its curtailed Credo and Benedictus-less Sanctus!) within Lutheran liturgies, and also for confirming the quality of Pederson’s output.
 
Apologies to the musicians and the recording company for the delay in reviewing this wonderful recording; I have just found it in a box that was put in my attic (and “lost”!) when I moved house.
 
Brian Clark
Categories
Sheet music

Croft: Three odes with orchestra

MB108 Croft Three odes with orchestra.

Edited by Alan Howard
Musica Britannica MB108
ISBN: 9780852499696 ISMN: 9790220228100
xlviii + 127pp, £115.00
Stainer & Bell

This excellent volume contains the two pieces Croft wrote to celebrate the Peace of Utrecht in 1713 – an earn his Oxford doctorate – and an ode (the editor Alan Howarth argues) to mark the Peace of Ryswick in 1697. if, as likely, that is the case, the composer would still have been a teenager, so the infelicities identified in the informative introduction might be forgiven. The main problem with the source (a later copy by one of Croft’s students from the 1720s) is the labelling of the instrumental parts – in the opening movement, there is a trumpet line (or two trumpet lines?) with unplayable notes, and the editor interprets the next four lines as violins where it strikes me as more likely that the first pair are oboes and the next pair violins. In the following movements, an alto is accompanied by recorders, the soprano and bass by strings, the bass by violins, and the full ensemble renders the short concluding chorus. The Utrecht pieces, whose performances in Oxford were noticed in the press, are far more substantial and it is clear that in the intervening years, Croft has matured as a composer. His debt to the Purcellian court ode is self-evident. Where we nowadays tend to think of him as being obscured by Handel, there is no sense in which this music is overshadowed by the German’s music for the Utrecht celebrations – indeed, some of his best choral writing might suggest that the influence worked in the opposite direction! I hope the availability of these fine pieces will inspire musicians to take up his cause – there really is a wealth of beautiful music here!

Brian Clark 

Categories
Sheet music

Requiems by Giovanni Croce and Giovanni Rovetta

Croce Rovetta Requiems RRMBE 238

The Requiem Mass at St Mark’s, Venice, in the Seventeenth Century
Edited by Jonathan R. J. Drennan
Recent Researches in the Music of the Baroque Era, 238
xvii, six plates + 50pp $140
ISBN 978-1-9872-0865-8

This is the first of three volumes surveying Requiem settings at the basilica of San Marco from the 17th to the 19th centuries. After a detailed introduction, Drennan presents the two settings in the traditional A-R format, meaning that my usual gripes about wasted space and dumbing down of time signatures apply. Both works are written for ATTB choir and were intended to be sung from the bigonzo, a large raised “tub” (the edition includes two excellent photographs of the space); only Croce’s setting splits into two groups – and even then only for the Dies irae. Several pages could have been saved if, instead of printing eight staves every time one choir answered the other (on p. 21 meaning Choir 1 has ONE BAR at the end of the page), they were simply both presented on four staves and clearly labelled. This almost certainly have meant that the Sanctus and Agnus Dei would have appeared on an opening, rather than over two pages. Rovetta adds continuo to his setting but – again – space could have been saved (by printing the chant as a single line, for example!) and those two last movements would fit a spread. The music itself is written in the stile antico; polyphony is limited but both composers know how to use rhythm to keep their music interesting while fulfilling the necessity to declaim the text clearly. Both settings are extremely brief; Drennan suggests that has more to do with restrictions set by church authorities than the composers.

Brian Clark