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Reforming Hymns

Lassus, Maistre, Palestrina, Pederson, Schlick, Senfl, Walter
Musica Ficta, directed by Bo Holten
64:58
Dacapo 8.226142

This CD offers a guided tour through a musical world in transition. With a focus on Denmark, it illustrates the shift from traditional Roman Catholic worship to the Protestant rites which replaced it. The subtleties of this major transition are explored as vernacular texts gradually invade the world of Latin polyphony and chant, polyphony for professional choirs is gradually replaced by more four-square homophonic settings for congregations. Some of the items in the midst of this transition such as Mogens Pederson’s Kyrie / Gud Fader are extraordinarily beautiful and owe much to pre-Reformation music. Radically new is the pressing of secular songs into the service of sacred hymns – pre-Reformation composers had delighted in using secular melodies as cantus firmi, but hymns that were often just sacred contrafacta of secular songs were something entirely new. Often these were intended for solo voice with or without accompaniment, but very soon harmonised versions crept into the repertoire, and composers like Pederson rose to the challenge with lovely settings such as his Fader vor vdi Himmerig recorded here. The new hymn melodies, just like the ore-Reformation chants, were also now used as the basis of polyphonic organ works such as the anonymous Organ Chorale on Vater unser in Himmelreich, played here on a fine early organ of which sadly no details but perhaps in the Trinitatis Kirke, Copenhagen. It is lovely to hear really quite basic settings for the early Reformed church blossom into more complex and involving settings by Pederson, Johann Walter, Lupus Hellinck and Matthaeus le Maistre. I couldn’t help drawing parallels with a similar development in English and Scottish music around the times of their respective Reformations. Particularly illuminating in this recording is the decision to track one particular text such as Maria zart, Christ lag in Todesbanden and others through a number of settings by different composers. This programme, based on research by Bjarke Moe, who also provided the instructive programme note, is constantly fascinating. Add to this the beautifully idiomatic solo and choral singing of Musica Ficta under the experienced and intelligent direction of Bo Holten and the fine organ-playing of Søren Vestegaard and we have a lovely package that both educates and delights.

D. James Ross

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Recording

From Rome to Vilnius

Canto Fiorito, directed by Rodrigo Calveyra
51:02
Brilliant Classics 97227

This attractive CD is based on sacred and secular music, which is featured in the Sapieha album of music associated with the Vasa Court in Vilnius. The composers were mainly Roman, but many had served at one time or another as Kapellmeister to Sigismund III in Poland and Vilnius. The list of composers includes the familiar and the unfamiliar: Annibale Stabile, Asprillio Pacelli, Giovanni Anerio, Marco Scacchi, Barthomiej Pekiel, Diomedes Cato, Tarquinio Merula and Francesco Rognoni. The repertoire ranges from large-scale sacred settings for voices and instruments to small sets of instrumental variations. The playing and singing of Canto Fiorito is of a very high standard, while the recording venue – appropriately the Palace of the Grand Dukes of Lithuania in Vilnius – provides a rich full acoustic to allow the music to bloom. The group’s director has reconstructed a missing bass part for Merula’s Benedicta tu allowing it to be recorded here for the first time. This varied programme reflects the cultural richness of the Baltic states at the end of the 16th century and during the first part of the 17th century. Based in Vilnius, this fine consort is symptomatic of the flourishing early music scene in Eastern Europe.

D. James Ross

 

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Chansons musicales, Paris 1533

Zephyrus Flutes led by Nancy Hadden
58:56
crd 3548

The 50th anniversary of the crd label provides the perfect reason for the rerelease of this 2013 recording by flautist Nancy Hadden and her consort, Zephyrus Flutes. The most groundbreaking aspect of this performance is the fact that it presents a lovely selection of Renaissance French chansons played on a consort of Renaissance flutes or alternatively played on solo flute with lute accompaniment, or consort with lute interspersed with music for solo lute. Where we might be more accustomed to hearing this repertoire played on a consort of recorders, the sound of three Renaissance tenor flutes and a bass flute is strikingly different in texture and timbre, which when I originally reviewed this CD I found instantly attractive. The solo flute playing is beautifully nuanced, while the consort with and without lute achieves a lovely blend. The group’s lutanist, none other than Jacob Heringman, adds his own customary musicality and technical virtuosity to this selection. The repertoire is drawn from Pierre Attaignant’s Chansons Musicales of 1533 in editions for flute consort by Nancy Hadden, while the lute solos are from roughly contemporary collections by Francesco da Milano, Pierre Phalèse, Hans Newsiedler and Vincenzo Galilei. Neither flautists nor lutanist are happy with obvious repertoire, and they all range far and wide through their chosen sources in search of the less familiar. I remember being struck ten years ago by how accessible this repertoire is and the sound of flutes and lute combined has stuck very firmly in my memory. I am not aware of this CD having a lasting legacy in the form of the formation of rival flute consorts, but it is lovely and thought-provoking to have it re-released in 2024.

D. James Ross

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Recording

The Madrigal Reimagined

Hannah Ely, Toby Carr, Monteverdi String Band, directed by Oliver Webber
63:41
Resonus Classics RES10341

This is an extraordinary CD – an exercise in recreating performance practice for music published around the year 1600, when the seconda prattica was sweeping through the world of song and reinvigorating the old forms with new techniques. Oliver Webber chronicles how the practice of ornamenting the melodic line of a song or a dance tune with diminutions grew from its vocalised beginnings to become the mainstay of what would emerge as the Italian concerto style in the hands of Vivaldi and his contemporaries.

What is so enlightening is that this exploration is about instrumental as much as vocal music. There is indeed vocal music – and Hannah Ely sings stylishly and elegantly – but much of the material is presented instrumentally. After a Canzona by Merulo, a setting of Cruda Amarilli by Johann Nauwach with his own vocal diminutions is followed by Monteverdi’s setting played instrumentally before we come to Cipriano de Rore, the father of the madrigal, where Toby Carr’s sensitive presentation of Anchor che col partire is given in lute intabulation by Emannuel Adriaenssen before we hear it vocalised with diminutions by Giovanni Battista Bovicelli – Ely’s final major third is splendidly tuned – and Webber presents his own diminutions alongside those of Orazio Bassani on Vergine Bella.

The string band (Oliver Webber and Theresa Caudle, violins, Wendi Kelly and David Brooker, alto and tenor viola and Mark Caudle, bass violin) are heard not only with the voice and in canzonas by Merulo and Giovanni Gabrieli, but in Monteverdi’s dance music. His Ballo dell’ingrate is the source not only of the ballo but of the lament Ahi, troppo è duro – introducing the theme of regret at losing this life and the shadowy underworld, the theme that is central to Monteverdi’s Orfeo from which a sequence of numbers concludes this elegant essay in balancing the melodic with the improvisatory which was such an important feature in establishing the new Baroque style. Webber’s diminutions for voice and bass violin on Palestrina’s Vestiva i colli show us how the old world of polyphonic madrigals morphed into the expressive world of the new music. The give and take here as the two listen to one another and exchange ideas reveals a central feature of performance practice in the Baroque – how to ornament a line while keeping your inventiveness within the bounds of what can be imitated: this is still the foundation for J.S.Bach’s two-part inventions 100 years later. Ornamenting a line is only possible of course when there is a single singer or player on each part – something taken for granted throughout the 17th century, I suspect.

I learned a lot not only from the splendid playing and singing on this CD but also by being introduced to novel ways of thinking about the evolution of and interplay between the musical elements that made up the momentous changes that music was undergoing in Italy. Storytelling, the foundation of what was becoming opera, would become public spectacle in the opera theatre of Venice and not just as courtly entertainment in private gatherings and so gripped the imagination in Italy. The combination of recitative and arioso, derived ultimately from the Madrigal, was translated into music of an extraordinary emotional intensity and would lead ultimately to Bach’s great Passion narratives.

Webber’s carefully planned programme is not only a treat to listen to; it also tickles the imagination and stimulates us to think hard about the source and development of the changes that were taking place in music in Italy at the hinge between the 16th and 17th centuries. This is a challenging as well as an elegant programme and I am grateful for having heard it. Webber’s liner notes are stimulating, and include details of the instruments as well as the sources: they are a model for what we need to engage with this stimulating performance.

David Stancliffe

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Recording

Vestiva: Embellishing 16th & 17th Century Music

Lux Musicæ London
58:00
First Hand Records FHR137

I was blissfully unaware of the fundamental effect a recording by David Munrow and his Morley Consort of Morley’s Consort Lessons of 1599 featuring extended divisions had had on a teenage me until I invested in the CD version some forty years later and realised that it had truly entered my bloodstream and become the basis of most of my embellishment instincts throughout a subsequent lifetime of playing Renaissance music. I would like to think this delightful CD might have the same effect on young performers, and indeed this ambition is expressed towards the end of the programme note. Lux Musicae (harpist Aileen Henry, recorder player Mirjam-Luise Münzel and lutanist Toby Carr) deftly take us through a selection of ‘written out’ embellishments of Renaissance and Baroque pieces as well as applying the wisdom of various embellishment instruction books of the period to other pieces. The results could so easily have sounded ‘worthy’, but in the hands of these gifted musicians the music comes wonderfully to life, and we are given a little flavour of how embellishment became such an indispensable skill for musicians of this period. The witty reference to the madrigal Vestiva i colli providing the title of the CD and alluding to the idea of flowers clothing the mountains much as embellishment clothes the original scores is indeed pertinent. Mirjam-Luise Münzel employs recorders based on illustrations by Ganassi. It was the purchase in the 1970s of a facsimile of Ganassi’s Fontegara (1535), a recorder tutor and one of the main sources of manners of embellishment, that first opened my eyes to the complexities of Renaissance ornamentation. I have yet to hear the more outrageous suggestions in this publication such as trills on thirds and fourths and dense diminutions of original phrases put into practice – perhaps they were never intended to be taken literally, or maybe they were and have yet to transform our understanding of the art of Renaissance embellishment.

D. James Ross

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Recording

TRE

Lise Vandersmissen triple harp
78:00
Et’cetera KTC 1826

The triple harp is something of a rare bird, as I soon discovered when attempting to expand the sketchy introduction to the instrument the Belgian performer Lise Vandersmissen provides in the note for her new CD. She tells us only that the instrument was invented in Naples at the end of the 16th century, having three rows of parallel strings. Visits to my old Grove Dictionary (5th edition, 1954) and the redoubtable Rev Galpin’s Old English Instruments of Music (1905), failed to yield further detail. In need of a sharp learning curve on the topic, Wikipedia eventually came to the rescue, explaining its invention was a further development following the introduction of the double harp as an answer to the expansion of the use of chromaticism at the end of the Renaissance. It appears that Welsh harpists working in London took up the instrument in a big way when it was introduced there in the early 17th century, the instrument becoming familiar in Britain as the Welsh harp, under which name the instrument is indeed described by Galpin.

We are not given any details of the harp played by Lise Vandersmissen, obviously a copy, but it has a rich, full sonority in the lower register and a pleasingly delicate bell-like upper range. Were it not for the resonant overtones, there are times when the instrument sounds not unlike a clavichord. There is little repertoire composed specifically for the triple harp, Vandersmissen’s programme consisting of her own transpositions of Baroque repertoire, plus a smaller group of her own compositions. From the outset she displays a mastery of the instrument, playing with an admirable fluency of technique. Rapid runs and ornaments, the latter not infrequently in addition to those included in the music, are executed without the blurring or buzzing sometimes experienced with less accomplished players. Most importantly, one senses that behind the technical expertise lies true musicality.  

The instrument is here particularly effective in pieces of an improvisatory or rhapsodic character, as in the Fantasia by Mudarra (1510-80) and Toccata by Trabaci (1575-1647), where the web of sound is frequently quite magical, the latter also demonstrating effectively the instruments sonorous bass chords. English music of the 17th century features strongly, including Purcell’s Suite in G minor, Z.661 a particularly beguiling arrangement of ‘Music for a While’ and Dido’s lament. But arguably the highlight of the disc is the transposition of Handel’s keyboard Suite in B flat, HWV434, at once, as Vandersmissen notes, the most challenging music on the disc, especially in the Aria con variazione (iii), which calls for particularly nimble finger-work from a keyboard player or harpist. But the improvisatory Prelude, with its colourful arpeggiations, also works especially well. Vandersmissen’s own works – there are five brief compositions – draw both on the Baroque heritage associated with the instrument and more contemporary writing. Of these works I found ‘Between Words’, which incorporates the parlando quoting of a poem by Alice Nahon, an early 20th-century Flemish poet, quite mesmerizing, while the playful ‘Jig’ is arguably the most immediately appealing work.   

In all, I found the instrument’s greater scope for creating a more involved and involving sound scape made the disc more attractive listening than is normal with harp records, which it has to be confessed are not a first choice when it comes to recitals. Nonetheless, given the exceptionally generous playing time, I would advise against listening to the CD at one sitting. Listeners will gain a better impression of the outstanding quality of Lise Vandersmissen’s performances in smaller doses. She deserves that kind of attention.

Brian Robins

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Recording

Lambert de Sayve: Ad Vesperas

Ensemble Polyharmonique, Alexander Schneider; Concerto Imperiale, Fabien Moulaert
69:03
Musique en Wallonie MEW2201

The cathedral of St. Lambert in Liège was one of the richest and best-served ecclesiastical centres in Northern Europe in the 17th century, with sixty canons and connections to a large number of collegiate churches and abbeys from which it could call on musicians. The Grand livre de choeur de Saint-Lambert of c. 1645, which survives in the library of Liège Conservatoire, contains fifty-odd motets for from four to eight voices and includes five Vespers-related pieces performed on this recording. They are arranged as part of an extended Marian Vespers, with three psalms and a Magnificat for double choir by Lambert de Sayve, a fourth double-choir psalm by Matthieu Rosmarin, and motets by de Sayve, Lambert Coolen, Henri de Romouchamps and Léonard de Hodemont. The singers of Ensemble Polyharmonique, together with the wind players of Concerto Imperiale, provide a rich tapestry of sound, beautifully balanced and expertly recorded. There are plainchant antiphons and organ music by Andrea Gabrieli, Peter Philips and Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck, confidently played by Concerto Imperiale’s director, Fabien Moulaert. Sweelinck’s Écho, unique to the Grand livre, is a real tour-de-force, lasting nine and a half minutes (details of the organ are not provided). I was also particularly struck by de Sayve’s setting of the motet O admirabile commercium performed by male voices and low instruments. An extensive booklet in French, Flemish, English and German contains comprehensive liner notes by the musicologist Émilie Corswarem, an expert on the music of Liège. This recording is a real pleasure to listen to and shines a light on a neglected corner of the festive music which graced high holy days in Northern Europe in the early Baroque.

Noel O’Regan

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Recording

Andrea Gabrieli: Le peine de mon cœur

Sébastien Wonner harpsichord
63:00
encelade ECL2102

For those of us whose minds turn to epic choral music or madrigals at the mention of the name Andrea Gabrieli, it is a useful antidote to be reminded of his career as keyboard player and his publications of keyboard music. This repertoire is undoubtedly an extension of Gabrieli’s improvisation skills at the organ, and many of his pieces such as the intonazioni and ricercars would have served liturgical purposes in the lavish services in St Mark’s Venice – we have frequently introduced Gabrieli’s largescale choral pieces with relevant intonazioni to establish the tonality. However, it is useful to hear this music, as well as keyboard arrangements of madrigals and motets, on the harpsichord to remind us that it is perfectly effective, freestanding solo keyboard repertoire. Gabrieli was a truly international musical figure, using Venice’s status as a world power to incorporate pan-European influences into his work. He samples French and German secular songs as well as the music of his Italian contemporaries in his work, but the wonderful spontaneity with which Sébastien Wonner imbues his performances constantly emphasises the improvisatory aspect of these works. He plays a fine 1999 harpsichord by Matthias Griewisch, while the distinctive tuning with its occasional spicy discords permits parallels to be drawn with Gabrieli’s exact contemporary Veronese – more remarkably still in 1585 musician and artist collaborated on a production of Sophocles Oedipus with Gabrieli composing the choruses and Veronese designing the costumes! O to have been a fly on the wall at that performance – both Gabrieli’s music and Veronese’s costume designs survive, so await the attentions of some enterprising opera company! Clearly there is much more to Andrea Gabrieli than his magnificent church music, and this excellent CD emphasises just one further aspect of this kaleidoscopic musician.

D. James Ross

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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

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Recording

Ockeghem: Complete Songs volume 2

Blue Heron, director Scott Metcalfe; Dark Horse Consort
Blue Heron BHCD 1013
70:27

To say that Blue Heron’s second and final disc of Ockeghem’s songs has been awaited eagerly is an understatement. My review of the first volume (BHCD 1010) is dated 21 February 2020, and shortly afterwards (15 October 2020) I reviewed a double album of all Les Chansons released by another American ensemble Cut Circle (Musique en Wallonie MEW 1995). Both of these releases are superb and in their different ways whetted the appetite for Blue Heron’s second excursion into this repertory. Has the wait – four years – been worthwhile?

Back in 1993 I attended the 21st Annual Conference on Medieval and Renaissance Music at Bangor University. I was giving a paper on Byrd – who in those days we still thought had been born in 1543 – and he shared much of the programme with papers about Ockeghem, the quincentenary of whose death was imminent (1997) and the subject of eager preparations. Knowing nothing of the composer except by reputation, I attended these sessions, some of which were illustrated by excerpts from those commercial recordings of his music – on this occasion his masses – then available. To me, compared with how well Byrd was beginning to be performed on disc, these recordings were atrocious (think postwar close harmony groups with crewcuts, clicking fingers and chortling “shoobie-doobie-doobie-doo-WAAAHHH”), and in one lecture I started to guffaw, stifling my contempt when I realised that my fellow attendees were listening without adverse reaction. Before long I was in the bookshop at Lincoln Cathedral, still pursuing Byrd. In lieu of simply making a donation, I impulsively bought a disc of The Clerks’ Group version of his Missa Ecce ancilla Domini, partly by way of contributing to the Cathedral’s funds, and partly remembering Bangor and thinking that there must be more to Ockeghem than the racket that I had heard there.

And so there is. More wonderful recordings of Ockeghem’s masses by Edward Wickham’s excellent ensemble have been followed by, amongst others, two recordings of his complete secular songs which I mentioned above, made by a couple of outstanding American vocal groups with not a crewcut in sight and no clicking of fingers. Suffice to say this second disc by Blue Heron continues the good work of the first. The quality of Ockeghem’s songs is such that they deserve to be performed and recorded by the best ensembles after the indignities his masses suffered on disc during the latter decades of the previous century.

Unlike Cut Circle, Blue Heron employ instruments on some tracks, more so on this second disc than on their first. This is always done sensitively, and the reasons for doing so are given clearly in the accompanying booklet. For instance, Cut Circle perform La despourveue as a vocal trio whereas Blue Heron give it as a solo song accompanied by two stringed instruments, a fourth higher, so that the soprano Sophie Michaux (where do these amazing singers keep coming from?) does not have to descend so far into her mezzo range as did the differently impressive Sonja DuToit Tengblad. And on Ung aultre l’a the “intriguing downward octave scale in the [sung] bass part”, to which I referred in my review of Cut Circle, is played sweepingly on the harp. Throughout this recording, Blue Heron sing with the ideal balance of intensity and engagement – an engagement with the songs themselves and also an engagement with the listener: in other words, this engagement not only extends from the musicians to the music, but also reaches out and embraces the listener – they penetrate the meanings of the songs but also project these meanings outward to their audience. This is expressed as well as anywhere in Baisies moi in which the three singers achieve an ideal balance of intimacy and animation.

Three of the works on this disc are not by Ockeghem himself. The Dark Horse Consort, a quartet of brass instruments, plays an anonymous arrangement of the almost heartbreaking Je n’ay deuil of which the singers perform the four-part version on the preceding track. Of the other two songs, one is by Binchois and the other is by the Spaniard Juan Cornago, but their links to Ockeghem and his music are explained in the booklet, a most helpful and illuminating document written by director Scott Metcalfe and musicologist Sean Gallagher.  Scott himself participates on the harp and fiddle and, as on the first disc, is joined by Laura Jeppesen also playing the fiddle. Cornago’s lovely song for three voices Qu’es mi vida is the penultimate track, and the disc, indeed the project, is brought to a close by Ockeghem’s four-part transformation, given here by Sophie Michaux and three instruments: the fiddle played by Scott plus a doucaine and – as a nod to the song’s Spanish provenance – a vihuela de arco. It is difficult to imagine anything more beautiful.

Richard Turbet