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Recording

Bach: Matthäus-Passion

Julian Prégardien, Stéphane Degout, Sabine Deveilhe, Lucile Richardot, Reinoud van Mechelen, Hana Blaz>iková, Tim Mead, Emiliano Gonzalez Toro, Christian Immler, [Maîtrise de Radio France], Pygmalion, Raphaël Pichon
162:00 (3 CDs in a card box)
harmonia mundi HMM 902691.93

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This splendid recording of the St Matthew Passion by Raphaël Pichon’s Pygmalion has been a long time in gestation. It is worth the wait. First, it is technically excellent: clean, well-balanced and every line can be heard without distortion. Second, the dramatic structure of the work – so different from the St John – is carefully thought through and well-presented in a series of scenes between two book-ends: the Preparation of the Passover, the Garden, at the High Priests’, before Pilate, the Cross and the Burial. But most importantly, this is the first recording of the St Matthew that I have encountered where real care has been taken to match the quality of the singing voices to the resonance and sound quality of the period-instrument bands, and the result is arresting.

The forces are quite large. Each line in the two choirs is led by the concertisten singer who sings the arias allocated by Bach to each choir, and each choir has five soprano, two alto, two tenor and four bass ripienisti singers in addition, so the choral sound – though fairly substantial – matches the ‘solo’ singing. The only singer excluded from the choro is the Evangelista, Julian Prégardien, whose place leading the tenors of choir 1 is taken by the admirable Reinoud van Mechelen, whose high voice has that distinctively clean yet mellifluous ring. It is he and the alto of choir 1, Lucile Richardot, who exemplify the vocal style that Pichon is after. When I first heard Buß und Reu, I was convinced that the pure, slightly nasal, ringing tone was a male voice. Richardot matches the flutes so well, but is equally flexible and commanding with the strings in Erbame dich: these two are exactly the type of voices that work for me.

Sadly, the standard set by Richardot and van Mechelen is not met by the soprano or the bass of choir one. For all her admirable phrasing in Ich will die mein Herze schenken, Sabine Devieilhe is unable – or unwilling? – to control the wobble in her voice. Singing in duet with Richardot in So ist mein Jesus nun gefangen – taken at a spanking pace with elegant ornaments and cracking interjections from the 2nd choir – she manages better, so it is a real pity that she falls back on modern, singerly sounds as her default option. The other weak link is the B1, Stéphane Degout, singing Jesus and those choir 1 arias. His voice, though rich and characterful, sounds plummy and bottled – a throwback to the singing style of an earlier period and out of kilter with the razor-sharp strings (3.3.2.1.1 in each band) who provide the halo round Jesus’ music.

The concertisten in choir 2 are well known soloists in Bach’s music. Hana Blažíková in Blute nur, Tim Mead in Können, Tränen and Christian Immler in Gerne will and Gebt mir produce quality performances that match the instrumental colour splendidly. The tenor Emiliano Gonzales-Toro was known to me chiefly as the singer/director of his own version of the Monteverdi Orfeo, but is equally admirable here in Geduld. All these singers make this recording outstanding for their ability to subsume their soloistic persona into the overall sound pattern Pichon is creating. The choruses have edge and bite, and many of them are refreshingly brisk. Chorales are treated to their own persona, and are an integral part of the whole drama rather than the boring but necessary hymns between the real music that they can so often become.

Julian Prégardien is a wonderful story-teller, at once tender and dramatic, and with a feeling for the shape and import of each phrase within the whole narrative: his diction – a significant feature of every singer in this recording – is outstanding. It is this sense of drama that pervades this recording and provides its distinctive and very French take on the Great Passion. Apart from the full libretto, translated into both French and English, which occupies pages 38 to 105 of the substantial 111-page booklet in rather grey, arty typeface – so not easily readable –, there is room only for a basic list of players and singers together with one of those composite and very French interviews with Pichon and Prégardien about how they planned their take on the Matthew over a number of years. There is nothing about the music itself, its sources, versions, transmission and readings; nor about the singers, players, instruments or chosen temperament; nor about the key musical decisions such as when and where to use dual accompaniment, adding the harpsichord of choir 2. The basso continuo instruments are listed as a group together as in Bach’s very first version as well as with their respective orchestras – theorbo and organ with choir 1 and organ and harpsichord with choir 2. Why and where are the bassoons (present in both orchestras) added or do the violas da gamba play in more than the specific arias where they are scored? All of this suggests to me that Pichon is more interested in dramatic affekt than in serious HIP scholarship and I am left with a lot of unanswered questions. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but the buyer should beware.

Nonetheless, and despite my personal reservations about the suitability of two of the singers (which listeners may not share), this is an outstanding performance by any standards, and I warmly encourage everyone to buy it. It is on three CDs and is a real bargain, and the thought that has gone into its preparation and direction makes a welcome change from many of the more lumbering and dully correct performances to which we are often treated. I find the style, tempi and continuity convincing, while stripping away the varnish of respectability brings a glow of excitement to the treasure that lies beneath.

David Stancliffe

Categories
Recording

Purcell: Royal Odes

Le Banquet Céleste, Damien Guillon
63:23
Alpha Classics ALPHA 780

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I have recently rather late in the day encountered ‘Perpetual Night’, the superlative CD (harmonia mundi) of 17th-century English repertoire by mezzo Lucile Richardot and Sebastien Daucé’s Ensemble Correspondances. Now here’s another disc from a distinguished French vocal ensemble to demonstrate compellingly how flawed our thinking is when we take on a proprietorial attitude to our own early music. That applies especially to Purcell, who many mistakenly tend to regard as quintessentially English and in so doing overlook the influence in his work of both French and Italian music.  

If Continental influences are undeniably at work in Purcell’s music, the concept of the celebratory royal ode was an entirely English one, though one might perhaps find some analogy in the sycophantic opera preludes addressed to Louis XIV by Lully and his contemporaries. Today their principal interest, leaving aside the astonishing quality – out of all proportion to their occasional purpose – of the music Purcell provided for them, is their commentary on and reflection of historical events. Thus of the three odes included here ‘From those serene and rapturous joys’ (Z 326) is the welcome ode for Charles II composed in 1684, in the September of which the king returned to Whitehall following a summer spent partly in Winchester, thus the poet John Flatman’s references to the ‘rapturous joys a country life alone can give’. Rather less easily explained are the references to the raising of Lazarus. But it’s a splendidly variegated work, with a French overture, florid Italianate solo airs, and a very English ground bass in the superb bass air ‘Welcome as soft refreshing showers’. The welcome ode for 1683, ‘Fly, bold rebellion’ (Z 324) is also linked to a specific historical event, in this case the so-called Rye House plot, a thwarted attempt to kill both Charles and his brother James earlier in the year. There is not unexpectedly considerable menacing tub-thumping, but the jewel of the work is the exquisite trio for two sopranos and countertenor, ‘But heaven has now dispelled’, in this performance the delicately interwoven filigree of the voices and ethereal lightness of touch forming a striking contrast with much of what has gone before.  

With the third and longest of these odes, ‘Why are all the Muses mute?’ (Z 343) we come to the first welcome ode Purcell composed for a new king, James II after his accession to the throne in 1685. The anonymous text is ostensibly largely a panegyric, though not without barbs and ambiguities, in which the new and unpopular Catholic monarch is throughout addressed as Caesar. Its opening is unique. Instead of the expected overture, we are drawn into the work by an introverted solo for high tenor set to the words of the ode’s title, here beautifully done with rapt concentration by Nicholas Scott. Only after this verse does Purcell introduce an instrumental prelude. Other highlights in a remarkable piece include ‘Britain, that now art great’, a ground bass air for countertenor – in this case, another of the CD’s stars, Paul-Antoine Bénos-Djian – succeeded by a ravishingly lovely orchestral ritornello.

The scale of the performances is similar to that employed by Robert King in some of his more recent re-recordings of the royal odes. That is to say two voices per part in choruses and single strings per part. King himself has recorded ‘Why are all the Muses?’ in this way, which reflects the kind of forces Purcell would have employed. Comparisons are fascinating, with Guillon generally taking a more lively approach than the latter-day King, whose stellar group of soloists are inevitably more individualistic than Le Banquet Céleste’s beautifully tuned and integrated ensemble. Both approaches have their own value, with the mostly French performers relishing the marvellous expressive qualities inherent in Purcell’s writing and, unsurprisingly, the strong feel of dance it includes. An outstanding disc that underlines convincingly the fundamental fact Purcell is fully exportable to and performable by our near-neighbours. Coincidentally, while working on this review a newsletter from Le Banquet Céleste arrived in my in-box. Upcoming are two concert programmes devoted to 17th-century English music. And that can only be good news for all of us.

Brian Robins

Categories
Recording

C. P. E. Bach: Die Auferstehung unf Himmelfahrt Jesu

Lore Binon soprano, Kieran Carrel tenor, Andreas Wolf bass, Vlaams Radiokoor, Il Gardellino Baroque Orchestra, conducted by Bart van Reyn
69:15
Passacaille 1115

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In the press release the flautist and co-founder of Il Gardellino Jan de Winne speaks of CPE Bach’s oratorio Die Aufferstehung und Himmelfahrt Jesu as a ‘forgotten masterpiece’. Masterpiece? Yes, indeed this iconic work can deservedly be accorded such an epithet. But forgotten? That’s hardly an apt description for a work that has received distinguished recordings from such notable directors as Philippe Herreweghe (Virgin Classics) and different performances by Sigiswald Kuijken on CD (Hyperion) and DVD (Euroarts).

Composed in Hamburg in 1774, it has in keeping with the spirit of the times in north Germany a poetic rather than liturgical text, in this case, one by Karl Wilhelm Ramler that had been previously set by other composers including Telemann and Graun. It takes an overtly emotional response to the events of the resurrection and ascension of Christ, in addition to a long recitative for bass at the start of the second of the oratorio’s two parts recapitulating the events of and leading up to the Crucifixion. The recitative, which is part narrative and part direct speech is divided into alternating passages of plain recitative and accompagnato, thus contradicting the impression given in the libretto that it consists near wholly of the latter. It is a text well suited to both the ‘Sturm und Drang’ of the 1770s and Bach’s employment of the related Empfindsamkeit, the highly expressive sentimental style particularly fashionable in Berlin and north Germany. Thus the work encapsulates both these elements in the bass’s first aria ‘Mein Geist, voll Furcht und Freude’ (My soul, full of fear and joy), the conflicting yet at the same time parallel emotions expressed in music of quasi-Romantic turbulence and intensity. Exhilarating, mystical and tender by turn, Die Aufferstehung looks both back to the world of Bach’s godfather Telemann in its use of such a device as its ritornello chorus and forward to that of Haydn’s Creation and Beethoven. The latter indeed looms large over the concluding numbers, the bass aria ‘Ihr Tore Gottes’, all brass fanfares and dynamic thrusting against restraint, and the final chorus with its unison passages for male chorus and vigorous fugue.

The performance holds up well against its distinguished predecessors. Bart Van Reyn’s direction and the fine playing of Il Gardellino capture well the varied moods of the work and while his chorus may not quite match the very best groups it is well balanced and responds with both fervour and, where needed, a sensitivity clearly apparent as early as the lovely opening chorus, ‘Gott, Du wirst seine Seele’. Tempos are on the whole well judged, though the fugue that concludes Part 1 sounds rushed and consequently untidy. Unusually most of the important solo work is given to the male soloists, the soprano not appearing at all in Part 2. The singing of bass Andreas Wolf is outstanding – rounded and richly toned, while articulating both text and music with clarity. Kieran Carrel is a light lyric tenor who sings extremely capably without quite effacing memories of Christoph Prégardien, Herreweghe’s soloist. Lore Binnon sings the little allotted to the soprano with an appealing purity and freshness, although her ornaments are not always confidently turned. As is so often the case, there was sadly no evidence of a vocal trill throughout the entire performance.

This finely executed and dramatically convincing Die Auferstehung can certainly stand alongside the earlier versions of one of Bach’s most influential and significant choral works.

Brian Robins

Categories
Concert-Live performance

ST JOHN’S SMITH SQUARE EASTER FESTIVAL – VOX LUMINUS

For obvious reasons, St John’s Smith  Square is an ideal venue for a festival of sacred music for Holy Week. This Easter Festival, which took place between 10 and 17 April, featured a broad mix of repertoire from across the centuries, the concert on 14 April with the vocal ensemble Sansara and Fretwork illustrating the eclectic nature of the festival by including works by the Tudor composer Robert White and Arvo Pärt. Unsurprisingly early music was well represented, with concerts including Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater (Anna Devin and Hugh Cutting), Handel and Vivaldi (his Stabat mater, RV621 with Hilary Cronin and Cutting again, the former a Handel Festival prize winner, the latter a Ferrier award winner). Perhaps the most ambitious event was the candlelit late-night concerts by Sansara of Gesualdo’s tormented Tenebrae Responsories, given in a candlelit liturgical context over three nights. More traditional Easter fare featured in a Bach St John Passion (Polyphony and OAE under Stephen Layton), before the festival was brought to a conclusion by the Belgian-based ensemble Vox Luminus, under the unobtrusive direction of bass Lionel Meunier.

It was this concert that we were able to attend along with an audience that was disappointingly sparse given Vox Luminus’s present eminence among vocal ensembles. I suppose Westminster is perhaps not a place of choice for many potential concert-goers to be on an Easter Sunday afternoon. Sadly, too, the level of Schütz’s box-office appeal in this country is far from commensurate with his greatness as a composer, so that his profoundly affecting Musicalische Exequien was the centrepiece of the concert may also have proved a deterrent. A German requiem, the work was commissioned from Schütz for his own funeral obsequies by a German nobleman. In this performance, it was given within the context of a funeral, including the opening chorale ‘Mit Fried und Freud’ that accompanied the funeral procession into the church, and to conclude the exquisite German setting of the ‘Nunc dimittis’, which employs evocative in lontano effects, here most atmospherically brought off. It was an award-winning recording of the work in 2012 that first brought Vox Luminus to wide notice. With its alternation of tutti ensemble movements and Favoriten passages for one or more soloists, the Musicalische Exequien is ideally suited to the strengths of Vox Luminus, which over the years have cultivated the individuality of the singers, all of whom are required to undertake solo parts, within integrated ensemble singing in which the personality of each singer remains paramount. At St John’s, ensemble was further tested by a visitation to Vox Luminus of the Covid curse, necessitating several late replacements. It barely showed, the rare odd slip being of the kind that can occur at any time. Far more importantly, with the slight caveat that the ensemble’s principal soprano slightly tended to dominate the texture in ripieno passages, this was overall a deeply sensitive and moving performance that so obviously came from the heart.

Much the same can be said of the two Bach cantatas that made up the programme. Both ‘Christ lag in Todes Banden’, BWV4 and the so-called ‘Actus Tragicus’ (‘Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit’), BWV106 are among the earliest cantatas Bach wrote and works that owe more to 17th-century predecessors such as Schütz and Buxtehude than the more modern type of Italianate cantata adopted by Bach in his later Leipzig cantatas. BWV106 is a funeral cantata probably composed during Bach’s brief Mühlhausen period (1707-08) for obsequies the details of which are unknown. Scored for minimal forces – SATB ‘choir’ – here of course rightly single voices per part – with solo interjections and just pairs of recorders (instruments associated with death during this period) and viola da gambas, and continuo. More consolatory than dramatic, the performance achieved a wonderfully intimate and inward-looking perspective on death, particularly touching in the exchange between the bass and the alto soloist’s chorale that immediately precedes the final chorale.

BWV4 could not have been a more appropriate choice to round off the programme, it being a cantata for Easter Sunday, the exact year of composition also not established, though it probably dates from his Weimar period (1708-13). It is cast in the form of a set of chorale variations, the melody retained throughout the seven verses which are varied both melodically and in their scoring and vocal disposition. Meunier here went with a larger-scale reading, employing three voices per part, doubtless so as to include all his performers, which caught the vibrant celebratory nature of the cantata effectively. This richly rewarding concert was rounded off by an encore in the shape of Buxtehude’s cantata, termed ‘aria’ in manuscript sources, ‘Jesu meines Lebens Leben’, BuxWV62, which is set over an ostinato bass. The timeline between Schütz and Bach was thus neatly bridged.

Brian Robins

Categories
Festival-conference

Les Traversées 2022

If you happen to be anywhere near the Abbaye Noirlac in central France on any Saturday between 18 June and 16 July 2022, be sure to check out this festival schedule: Les Traversées 2022 – with three events on each date and the option to include a picnic in your ticket price, this sounds like a marvellous way to spend a summer’s evening. Highlights for early music fans will be Aliotti’s “Il Trionfo Della Morte” on 25 June, and a St John Passion by Les Surprises on 16 July.

Categories
Recording

Ou beau chastel

Leuven Chansonnier vol. 2
Sollazzo Ensemble
53:50
passacaille AMY059 | PAS 1109

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The Sollazzo Ensemble return to the Leuven Chansonnier for a second selection from the 62 works it records. Alongside the established composers (Ockeghem, Caron, Frye, Morton, and Busnoys), there is anonymous music which has not been found in any other source, and which supplies the title for their CD. The Ensemble provides convincing and musically engaging accounts of this important music, although just occasionally I felt that some of the songs were a little over-interpreted, with some unidiomatic vocal swooping and portamenti. This is living music, and performers who are undeniably very familiar with the repertoire must be permitted to interpret it meaningfully, but I felt that some of the mannerisms in the vocal contribution sounded disconcertingly out of period. That aside, these are bold and effective interpretations, and it is good to report that the ‘new’ anonymous material is every bit as fine as the established, ‘named’ music – but for the whim of the copyist, we might be adding to the output of one of the familiar masters here, or perhaps more intriguingly even adding to the panoply of the masters of the period. I found it particularly exciting to hear a very persuasive account of Walter Frye’s ubiquitous three-part setting of Ave Regina performed by voices and wind instruments – the performances in the 1980s (by, amongst others, René Clemencic) of the music of this period combining wind instruments and voices were often dismissed as eccentric at the time, but with the welcome challenging of the ‘a cappella orthodoxy’ may prove to have been a perfectly viable and plausible performance option. 

D. James Ross

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Recording

Giosquino

Josquin Desprez in Italia
Odhecaton, Paolo Da Col, The Gesualdo Six, [La Reverdie, La Pifarescha]
77:17
Arcana A489

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Coinciding as it does with the reopening of the Burrell Collection in Glasgow, with its magnificent Renaissance tapestry featuring Hercules, dux Ferrara, one would like to think this similarly magnificent recording featuring Josquin’s Mass Hercules dux Ferrariae might have found its way into the gift shop. If you like your Josquin big and muscular, this is the recording for you. Looking at things through musicological glasses, we know that the ducal court of Ferrara possessed the musical resources to stage events of this stature, so the only consideration is whether Josquin’s music is effective, performed by these large forces. I think that the approach here, using as many as twenty voices for full sections, with solo voices emerging to perform the more intricate passages works extremely well. The otherwise detailed programme notes are inexplicably uninformative about the role played by the wind instruments – I am sure that the voices are supported by cornets and sackbuts in several tracks, and one photo of the recording sessions would seem to confirm this. If this is indeed the case, the blend of voices and brass is exemplary, and again highly effective. I have to say, I felt the two short instrumental tracks sound a little out of place in this programme of largescale sacred music. The programme ends with Josquin’s extraordinary 12-part setting of Inviolata, integra et casta in which all the vocal and instrumental forces combine in a dramatic performance tour de force. I have recently suggested that this work dates from later in Josquin’s life, and through his pupils kicked off the early 16th-century vogue for works in many voice parts (Brumel, Gombert, Carver – www.earlymusicreview.com/robert-carver-exploring-his-aberdeen-connections) – Camilla Cavicci’s programme note points to the interest in the cult of Franciscan immaculatism at the court of Ferrara as a possible alternative context for the work. Either way, it makes for a dramatic conclusion to this fine CD, and provides more persuasive evidence for the more flamboyant and lavishly scored performance of works from the 15th and 16th centuries.

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Handel: Messiah

Eboracum Baroque, Chris Parsons
132:08 (2 CDs in a card triptych)
1 98000 82190 6

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Whenever I am presented with a new version of a frequently-recorded work such as Messiah, my first question has to be what does this performance add to the body of existing recordings? After I have expressed my admiration for this project, conducted under the most difficult pandemic conditions and representative of the sort of ‘can-do’ attitude which has seen us through the worst of Covid restrictions, I have to report that this recording doesn’t really add much at all. Although its virtues are several, the problems with it are – I fear – predominant. It is a reduced-forces performance (the oboes are dropped and everything else is one-to-a-part), by its own admission unlike any performance from Handel’s time, providing us with what the performers hope will be ‘an exciting take on Handel’s masterpiece’. While the singing of a line-up of young soloists, who double as chorus, is generally perfectly presentable and the instrumental playing is effectively detailed, the latter is underpowered and the former is undistinguished – and neither of these features is adequate in a field of superb performances. While audiences would have been forgiving of the occasional blurring due to social distancing in a live performance, this is harder to condone or live with in a recording. Problems are compounded with the ‘popping’ of a mic in several of the choral tracks. I wanted to be more positive about this crowd-funded recording by what is clearly an enterprising and excitingly talented young ensemble out of York University, but perhaps pressing ahead with a recording of an established classic in these far from conducive conditions was a mistake.

D. James Ross

 

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Recording

Gesualdo: 6th book of madrigals

La légende noire, La Guilde des Mercenaires, Adrien Mabire
65:56

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These performances of madrigals from Gesualdo’s extraordinary final publication, Book VI, a work of stunningly daring harmonic progressions and musical non sequiturs, are themselves revelatory. La Guilde des Mercenaires under the direction of Adrien Mabire are attempting something revolutionary, performances of Gesualdo with wind instruments. The programme note asks why performances of Monteverdi are regularly presented with instruments, while Gesualdo is almost invariably presented a capella. The answer seems obvious – that while Gesualdo’s highly chromatic idiom is tricky for singers, it is perhaps even more tricky for early wind instruments. These performances seem to belie these difficulties, as the wind instruments, occasionally playing on their own, never sound less than comfortable. Whether this is due to the technical proficiency of the players, or whether after all Gesualdo’s writing is more about unexpected progressions and juxtapositions rather than sheer chromaticism, and therefore possibly easier for wind players than singers, the overall effect is very convincing. Part of the ongoing questioning of the myth of a capella performance, it is encouraging to see younger players challenging the old dogmas of HIP performance and exploring alternatives. The wind component of these performances is a real revelation – the vocal contribution is also pretty impressive, and when voices and instruments combine we get a genuine flavour of a whole new dimension of Gesualdo’s music. I still remember the effect of first hearing Byrd’s Great Service with wind and before that, performances of Dufay Masses with voices and wind, and I can’t help feeling that this recording is a similar moment of transformation.

D. James Ross

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Recording

Rameau: Grands Motets

Choeur & Orchestre Marguerite Louise, Gaétan Jarry
77:43
Château de Versailles Spectacles CVS 5052

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Such is Rameau’s renown as an opera composer that today we have a forgivable tendency to forget that the long period of his creative life before the sensational appearance in 1733 of Hippolyte et Aricie was devoted near exclusively to sacred music. As Gaétan Jarry notes in a long and helpful note, Rameau was organist of ‘at least a dozen churches’, though his observation that not a single organ work of Rameau’s has come down to us can almost certainly be explained in one word: extemporisation. Such was its importance as a fundamental of French organ technique that unless someone was on hand to transcribe it such improvisation belonged near exclusively to the moment.  

Unlike Lully and Delalande, Rameau’s output of the major sacred form of the Baroque in France, the grand motet, is small, just four examples considered to be authentic being extant (a fifth, Diligam te has been dismissed from the canon). All four are included on the present disc for the first time. Of these Laboravi clamans, a setting of verse 3 of Psalm 69, is a tiny work (just 73 bars) of uninterrupted counterpoint, its long melismatic lines reflecting its opening line, ‘I am weary of my crying’. The other three motets are on a considerably larger scale, alternating contrasted solo and solo ensemble verses with those for full chorus. Each has its own distinctive character. Quam dilecta tabernacula (‘O how amiable are thy dwellings’, a setting of Psalm 84 (83)), for example, opens with tranquil, luminescent flutes and a soprano solo, sung with vernal freshness by the excellent Maïlys de Villoutreys. It’s a mood broadly sustained throughout the work, a brief excursion for a joyous triple-time contrapuntal chorus at the words, ‘My heart and my flesh rejoice…’ being an exception. In convertendo (‘They that put their trust in the Lord’, Psalm 125 (126) on the other hand has a text that juxtaposes the pain of captivity in Babylon with joy at the prospect of release. In keeping with such ambiguity, it contrasts the exuberant joy of ‘Magnificavit Dominus’ a florid duet for soprano and bass (Villoutreys again superb with the fine bass David Witczak), with, for example, the final movements, a madrigalian solo trio, ‘Qui seminant’ (They that sow in tears) followed by a magnificent chorus that opens with astounding chromatic harmony, a passage as great as anything in the choral works of Handel or Bach. The final and longest motet, Deus noster refugium (God is our refuge, Psalm 46 (45)) has a text filled with vivid imagery that was a gift to a man shortly to become one of the great dramatic composers of the age. One notes among many examples the shuddering strings at ‘the earth is moved’ and the thrilling, surging impetus of the choral writing at ‘The waters roared out …’

As already intimated the performances are outstanding, with the chorus aided by the acoustic of the Chapelle Royale in Versailles achieving a wonderful breadth and depth. All six soloists are first-rate, with special plaudits once again going to haute-contre Mathias Vidal. Jarry’s outstanding ensemble can today be considered among the best of the Baroque ensembles in a country more richly endowed with them than any other.

Brian Robins