Categories
Recording

the ear of theodoor van loon

il primo caravaggisto fiammingo
huelgas ensemble, paul van nevel
66:39
cypres CYP1679
Music by Anerio, de Ghersem, a Kempis, Marenzio, Mazzocchi, Philips, Quagliati, Rimonte, Soriano & Zamponi

This is one of those CD programmes which seek to use a visual artist as a hook for music of the period – this concept has always struck me as rather strange, as the visual, literary and musical arts tend to be at relatively different stages of development at different periods, and in my experience have little to say to one another – think of contemporary artists, writers and composers. Anyway, Theodoor van Loon, a practically unknown Flemish follower of Caravaggio, did at least travel between Brussels and Rome, where he could conceivably have heard all of the music on this CD. And quite honestly I would accept any excuse, however far-fetched, to hear the excellent Huelgas Ensemble singing and playing the music of this period. Among the sacred music which could have charmed the ear of van Loon are works by the two Palestrina students, Francesco Soriano and Felice Anerio, both of whom deserve more attention than they currently get. From the former we get the Agnus Dei from a ‘souped-up’ eight voice version of his master’s Missa Papae Marcelli, while from each we have an equally showy and sonorous motet, all of which obviously shows the influence of Palestrina, but also how music in Rome had moved in the direction of ever-increasing opulence as the 17thh-century progressed. From Gery de Ghersem we have the superb Agnus Dei from his seven-part Mass Ave virgo sanctissima, this productive composer’s only complete surviving work, all the rest having heartbreakingly perished in the Lisbon earthquake and fire of 1755. The CD concludes with sacred music by Giuseppe Zamponi and Peter Philips. As ever, the Huelgas Ensemble provide wonderfully balanced and exquisitely musical accounts of this opulent repertoire, gradually introducing instruments into the choral textures until we reach the beautifully rich and full concluding account of Philips’ Hodie nobis de caelo, where the voices are joined to luminous effect by violins and recorders. In among the largescale sacred music we have more intimate secular vernacular works by Philips, but also by Paolo Quagliati, Luca Marenzio, Domenico Mazzochi, Pedro Rimonte and instrumental music by Nicolaus a Kempis, where various mixtures of solo voices and instruments devised by the ever-imaginative Paul van Nevel provide beautifully animated performances. I think I could listen to the Huelgas Ensemble perform their way through the phone book, but with this CD their unique performance talents are applied to very worthwhile material, much of which, like their painterly inspiration van Loon, is nowadays virtually unknown.

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Music for Windy Instruments

Sounds from the Court of James I
The English Cornett & Sackbut Ensemble
59:50
resonus RES10225
Music by Adson, Augustine, Jerome & Jeronimo Bassano, Croce, Alfonso Ferrabosco I & II, Ferretti, Harden, Lassus, Marenzio, Philips, Vecchi & anon

For this CD by The English Cornett and Sackbut Ensemble, their first for the Resonus label and part of their 25th anniversary celebrations, the musicians have chosen a particularly rich seam of early wind repertoire. Both Elizabeth I and her chosen successor James I cultivated truly cosmopolitan courts which attracted musicians from throughout the continent. So at a time when lavish music for wind ensembles flourished in the likes of Venice, such music was quick to reach the British court through the likes of the Venetian Bassano family who worked in London but who also maintained contacts with home. Thus it was that music by a range of the most fashionable European composers found its way into the repertoire of the various consorts maintained by Elizabeth and James, and into the manuscripts that they played from. The loss of one of the six part-books from one of the main sources has involved a degree of reconstruction by Ian Payne. Although slightly less bombastic than some of the repertoire which graced St Mark’s in Venice, this is wonderfully sonorous music, given an added edge of excitement in this recording by the superbly daring ornamentation of the upper lines. As intriguing as the virtuosic playing of the upper cornetts is, the contribution of the tenor and mute cornetts, the former providing a wonderfully rich inner voice to the texture, while the latter sound wonderfully husky in combination with the brass instruments, is exceptional. It is easy to understand the enthusiasm of Elizabeth and James for this profound and impressive music – both sprang from musical families and each was of a famously philosophical bent. Of all the courtly music to survive, it is this flamboyant repertoire which to me seems best to match the colourful costumes and extravagant manners of the 16th and 17th centuries. Silas Wollston provides pleasing contrasting works for solo harpsichord in addition to joining the wind consort on some tracks, although I must say that I could listen all day to the wonderfully evocative sounds of the wind instruments played with such musicality and sparkling virtuosity. Incidentally, the quirky title seems to derive indirectly from a quote from a 1534 volume dealing with health which recommends the playing of wind instruments to exercise the entrails…

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Michelangelo’s Madrigal

Kate Macoboy soprano, Robert Meunier lute
Et’cetera KTC 1623
Music by Cara, dall’Aquila, Dalza, da Milano, Pesenti, Scannazaro, Scotto & Tromboncino

This interesting collection of secular Italian songs of the first half of the 16th century is built around the work of Bartolomeo Tromboncino, and more specifically the madrigal Come harò donque ardire, setting a poem by the legendary artist Michelangelo Buonarroti – the ‘Michelangelo’s Madrigal’ of the title. In addition to several other of Tromboncino’s settings, we have music by Joan Ambrosio Dalza, Marco dall’Aquila, Michele Pesenti, Francesco da Milano, Marchetto Cara and Paulo Scotto. Robert Meunier proves an able accompanist and an accomplished soloist in the works for lute alone, while Kate Macaboy has a pleasant well-focused soprano voice. In keeping with the performance notes, both performers treat the written scores as springboards for their own musical imaginations, decorating both the melody and the accompaniment as the composers surely intended. Macaboy introduces an appropriate level of dramatization into her performances, and this along with the accumulation of ornamentation prevents the often rather simple melodies outliving their welcome. It is hard to reconcile this rather naïve compositional style with the fact that Tromboncino and Michelangelo collaborated while employed together at the Ferrara court of the notorious Lucrezia Borgia. Perhaps an aptitude for on-the-spot elaboration of melodies would have helped cultivate the quick reactions necessary for survival at a Renaissance Italian court!

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Splendor da ciel

Rediscovered Music from a Florentine Trecento Manuscript
La Morra
63:41
Ramée RAM 1803

This CD is subtitled ‘rediscovered music from a Florentine Trecento manuscript’ but the remarkable story of the way in which this music survived as a palimpsest, overwritten with bureaucratic records when the music was no longer fashionable, meaning that it has had to be physically ‘recovered’, makes it all the more valuable a treasure. Music by known composers such as Piero Mazzuoli, Jacopo da Bologna, Paulo da Firenze, Hubertus de Salinis and Antonio Zacara da Teramo makes up just a small part of the 216 compositions preserved in the San Lorenzo Palimpsest. The final stage in what must have been an extraordinarily laborious procedure is the committing by La Morra of 17 of the pieces to CD, and it is hard to imagine a more capable group or a more triumphant outcome. The playing and singing of La Morra, a group springing originally from the seminal Schola Cantorum Basiliensis, is superbly idiomatic, expressive and technically impeccable, evoking vividly the manuscript’s early 15th-century context. In Scotland, we have generally made a more thorough job of disposing of our musical manuscripts, but in the case of one 16th-century church manuscript, The Inverness Fragments, pages of church music deemed superfluous were used as stuffing in the binding of a law book, and in due course they could be ‘recovered’ and reconstructed. We enjoyed the same thrill as we sang this ‘retrieved music’ as I am sure La Morra felt when this stunning Florentine music sprang back to life before their eyes.

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Josquin: Miserere mei Deus

Funeral Motets & Deplorations
Cappella Amsterdam, Daniel Reuss
66:10
Harmonia mundi musique HMM 902620

There seems to have been something of a vogue for commemorative music around the end of the 15th-century, music and verse, which would mark the passing of great artists in both media, and it perhaps signals the establishment of composers and poets as individuals of note and status. It became customary for composers to lament the passing of their teachers, and to usefully list in these ‘deplorations’ their fellow students, providing musicologists with useful musical ‘genealogies’ for composers. Opening with Josquin’s exquisite ‘deploration’ for his teacher Johannes Ockeghem, this is a wonderfully comprehensive programme of music by Josquin associated with death including his extended settings of Planxit autem David and the Miserere, concluding fittingly with Musae Jovis by Nicolas Gombert, lamenting his late teacher, Josquin. Cappella Amsterdam produce a wonderfully pure sound and sing this music expressively and convincingly. I had one or two reservations about their pronunciation – surely the Renaissance pronunciation of the French ‘ois’ syllable as ‘way’ is fairly well established, and simply to sing the texts simply as if they were modern French is to lose something. I have to say that an entire programme of sung funeral music does begin to sound a little ‘samey’ – perhaps a piece or two of instrumental music interspersed would have alleviated the similarity of texture. We could perhaps have managed a little more passion in one or two of the pieces, such as the exceptional setting of Absalon fili mi, which – given the passion of the text and Josquin’s extraordinary musical response to it – receives a rather glib performance here. I notice that this is the first of a projected trilogy of deploration music by great composers of the Renaissance, so we await forthcoming albums.

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Come to my Garden, my Sister, my Beloved

Lovesongs by Franck & Schein [+Haussmann & Palestrina]
Voces Suaves, Jörg-Andreas Bötticher
69:57
deutsche harmonia mundi 1 90758 49752 5

Best known perhaps for their church music, it is nice to have this selection of lovesongs by Melchior Franck and Johann Hermann Schein. Using compositional techniques similar to their polychoral church music, both composers seem equally adept at setting vernacular love lyrics. The voices of Voces Suaves are joined by a violin, cornetto, theorbo, violone and organ/harpsichord to produce a wonderfully full sound in performances which are adeptly ornamented and expressively presented. The songs by Schein are a particular revelation, as he seems to feel freed to explore a greater variety of textures in these secular works than in his church music. In the music from his late collection Musica Boscareccia of 1628, he seems to be exploring a more operatic idiom using the compositional skills acquired over a twenty-year career. Sadly within two years he would be dead, denying us undoubtedly of much fine music. To provide variety, if such were needed, the instruments perform a delightful Passameza by Valentin Hausmann, as well as two instrumental reworkings by Giovanni Bassano and Luigi Zenobi respectively of two motets by Palestrina. This is a beautifully varied CD, performed with passion and technical assurance acquainting us an unexpectedly rich repertoire.

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Heironymus Praetorius: Missa in Festo Sanctissimae Trinitatis

Volker Jänig (organ), Weser-Renaissance, Manfred Cordes
70:27
cpo 777 954-2

As usual with these performers, this recording is so much more than just a recital. This time, in conjunction with Frederick K. Gable (an Emeritus Professor from California), they offer us some idea of what high mass on Trinity Sunday might have sounded like. But it comes with a caveat: “Since little archival information has survived about singing the mass in Hamburg, it is impossible precisely to determine how these works were performed during Praetorius’s time.” Now that’s what I call a “get out” clause! At its heart is Praetorius’s Missa Benedicam Dominum, whose Credo is replaced by Jacob Praetorius’s setting of its German reincarnation, Wir gläuben all an einen Gott. The programme also includes settings of the introit and offertory for Trinity Sunday, and substitutes for the other mass propers. The tri-partite scheme of the Kyries, the Christe and the Agnus Dei sections are created using chorale and organ versions, giving a range of styles and sounds that probably (in my opinion) was not a feature of period performances, but I think it both valuable and informative to hear the differing approaches. The singing and playing, as always with Cordes, is very finely crafted – with a total of six singers (SSATTB) and seven players (violin, cornetto, viola, two trombones, dulcian and continuo orgennot played by Volker Jänig!) he creates a rich and warm soundworld. The instrumental substitutions for voices in the larger pieces (as would surely have happened at the time) are judiciously selected, and no one voice is ever allowed to dominate the texture – in other words, this is in many ways an ideal exposition of Hieronymus Praetorius’s church music.

Brian Clark

Categories
Recording

The door to Paradise: Music from The Eton Choirbook

The Choir of Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford, conducted by Stephen Darlington
Avie AV2395
5 CDs in a box

The last three decades have seen three remarkable recording projects, each consisting of five discs, devoted to English sacred music from either side of 1500. First, beginning in 1991, came The Sixteen featuring music from the Eton Choirbook. From the USA, starting in 2010, came Blue Heron, with revelatory works from the lesser known and later Peterhouse Partbooks. And beginning a year earlier, 2009, came Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford under the college’s Organist and Tutor in Music, Stephen Darlington, who also selected their material from the ample acres of the Eton Choirbook. Their final disc was released in 2017 and, as with the other two projects, once all five discs had been issued, they have been reissued as a boxed set this year, to coincide with Professor Darlington’s retirement after 33 years in post.

Across the five discs there are several works, such as Walter Lambe’s Magnificat (also to be found in the Carver Choirbook in Scotland) on disc I, which receive their recorded premieres. There are also a few works which are new to compact disc, but which have appeared on LPs that have never since been reissued in the newer format. One such work, also on disc I, is John Fawkyner’s Ave rosa sine spina. (Confusingly he turns up on disc III as Richard – he is indeed John in Timothy Day’s A discography of Tudor church music, 1989, but is Richard in Grove online dated 2001.) This was performed as part of a project which was a forerunner of The Sixteen and, particularly, Christ Church: a pair of LPs featuring music from the Eton Choirbook sung by the boys from the now defunct choir school of All Saints, Margaret Street, London, with the men of the Purcell Consort, conducted by Grayston Burgess. These two discs set the bar very high with an outstanding treble line and men both comfortable and capable singing early music; while this music brings the best out of The Sixteen, there is an added frisson in listening to it being sung by a choir similar in modern terms to the ensemble at Eton and elsewhere for which it was originally composed. It should be hard not to be inspired by it, and Christ Church, over the five discs, successfully emulate the achievement of their predecessors at All Saints, Margaret Street. It was a great loss when All Saints’ choir school was closed in 1968 after 125 years, but the loss is at least partially alleviated by the continuing excellence of a choir such as Christ Church, especially when it takes up some challenging repertory associated with All Saints.

As Timothy Symons tells us in his impressive booklet accompanying the discs, “The copying of the Eton Choirbook was completed at the very beginning of the 16th century”. The names of few if any of the composers are common musical knowledge, with the exceptions of Robert Fayrfax and William Cornysh. However, many heroes lived before Agamemnon (Horace, Odes 4.9.25-26) or, in this context, before Byrd. Taking two whom the centuries have treated differently, there are works by John Browne on each of the five discs, whereas only two works by Fawkyner survive. Even amongst composers the standard of whose music is never below high, Browne stands out. His glorious O Maria salvatoris mater comes at the beginning of the Eton Choirbook, and it begins disc II. The only other work in the Choirbook to approach the impact of its stunning and sumptuous opening for full choir in eight parts is Robert Wylkynson’s Salve regina (disc II) in nine. Wylkynson is sparing in using all nine at once, so that their impact is all the greater, and his passages for reduced scoring can be delicate as well as mesmerizing and eloquent. Perhaps the piece from the Choirbook that comes nearest to being a modern repertory piece is Browne’s Stabat mater (disc I), though the sublime Ave Maria by William Cornysh (disc II – by far the shortest piece in this set, and in the entire Choirbook, at 4’07; it is a shame that Christ Church use the editorial sharps for the repeated leading notes in the uppermost – alto – part at the final cadence) also has a claim. The six pieces by Browne in this set are all of the highest standard – the music for ten of his Latin works survives in the Eton Choirbook (its only source) one of which is fragmentary, and five others are listed – whereas, as we have seen, only two pieces by Fawkyner survive, both also outstanding. How is it that a composer can be so good yet so seemingly unproductive? Surely several other works by him, and by other composers represented in the Choirbook by only one or two works, must have been lost (a solution put forward in the accompanying booklet – see below), or just possibly they are lurking in a corner, or in plain sight, perhaps unattributed, waiting to be recognised, rediscovered or attributed.

Apart from the item by Cornysh already mentioned, the works in this set are all timed at over ten minutes, some of them well over, with the longest – Walter Lambe’s O Maria plena gratia the longest piece in the Choirbook – taking a gratifying twenty plus. While maintaining the highest level of performance throughout the five discs, Christ Church Choir sounds subtly different from one disc to the next – usually two years apart. Presumably Stephen Darlington did not have an unchanging ideal sound in his head to which all his singers had always to conform, but rather had an ideal standard of performance and to that end trusted the inevitably changing cast of his choristers, choral scholars and layclerks to achieve this through their natural voices, working with one another under his leadership. It was advantageous that all the recordings were made in the same spacious acoustic of the chapel at Merton College, Oxford. The mind almost boggles at the difficult passages of reduced scoring accomplished by solo trebles, passages in so many of the works which also challenge the adult singers – the opening of Kellyk’s Gaude flore virginali, trios in John Hampton’s Salve regina, duos in Fawkyner’s Gaude virgo salutata and two particularly acrobatic passages in Hacomplaynt’s Salve regina spring to mind. Darlington’s tempi can be deliberate but are never plodding; the priority is to render each part audible while it also blends with its fellows, whether it is a barnstorming full passage for half a dozen voices, or one of the intricate duos and trios. This approach also highlights the precision and accuracy with which the participants sing, whether a solo boy or pair of trebles, or men singing together in the lower reaches of their tenor, baritone or bass ranges, as in Edmund Turges’s Gaude flore virginali in which there are also some wicked harmonic twists which can sidle past the listener almost before they have had time to register!

Another most commendable achievement of this set of recordings is that it highlights music by gifted composers such as Fawkyner, Hampton, William monk of Stratford, Kellyk and Hacomplaynt who are the equivalent of the popular music industry’s one-hit wonders. Other works of theirs have surely been lost (see below), and they are only known to posterity by a work or two in the Eton Choirbook, playing second fiddle to the bigger names such as Browne, Davy, Wylkynson, Fayrfax and Cornysh. While acknowledging that this repertory is challenging to perform, it really should be better known than it is. I have heard many other pieces from the Choirbook besides those in this generously filled boxed set, and have never been other than enthralled by their impact and quality. To those unfamiliar with the idiom, expect glorious sonorities, heart-stopping moments of surprisingly modern and quirky harmonies besides some snappy dissonances, sweeping melodies, pensive passages of reduced scoring, and overwhelming climaxes of five and more voices. The music is nothing like that of its equally but differently gifted European contemporaries; it is quite simply a parallel sonic universe.

The presentation is good in a discreet way. I have a minor quibble with a lack of consistency in the material provided on the backs of the respective sleeves: the first has only timings for the listed pieces, the next two include timings plus the numbers of parts for each piece, and the last two include timings, numbers of parts and actual scorings – this latter would have been welcome throughout. The accompanying booklet contains a short introduction by Stephen Darlington and concise scholarly notes by Timothy Symons about the contents of each disc, though texts are not provided. The notes explain the importance of numerology in these works, with so many numbers being of religious significance: for instance, “The number seven has long been associated with the Virgin Mary through the devotions of her Seven Joys and Seven Sorrows.” These numbers can be applied, by themselves or in combinations, to note values, in order to provide structures for entire sections of these compositions. Also, many compositions have the melody of a particular plainchant as their cantus firmus; it is not always immediately obvious why a certain chant has been chosen by the composer but, once it has been identified, it can provide a clue as to the circumstances for which the work was composed. Seemingly the manuscripts that survive from England in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries represent only about a tenth of those circulating at the time; this would in turn suggest that some shadowy composers who are now represented by only one or two excellent works could have contributed ten times that number to the contemporary sacred choral repertory, a possibility which would explain that otherwise seemingly fleeting excellence.

This project is quite simply a monument within the discography of English music and indeed of Renaissance music. I respectfully urge everyone with any sort of inclination towards the best of Western music – be it Birtwistle, Brahms, Beethoven, Bach or Byrd – to obtain this recording; Browne, for one, is fit to continue the roll-call of these composers.
RICHARD TURBET

Categories
Recording

The Melodious Birde

Keyboard music by William Byrd
Colin Booth harpsichord and virginals
75:50
Soundboard SBCD217 Fugue State Records FSRCD013

The steady flow of distinguished discs devoted to, or featured around, Byrd’s keyboard music shows no sign of abating. This recent recording by Colin Booth is another fine contribution to the stream. Using three different instruments, it is devoted entirely to Byrd, covering all the genres in which he composed, and combining some unfamiliar pieces with some stalwarts of the Byrdian keyboard repertory.

Right from the outset, it is evident that Booth’s approach has more to do with affection for the composer’s works, rather than with storming Byrd’s barns. Lord Willoughby’s welcome home is all about Byrd’s exquisite melodies and harmonies, and his beguiling counterpoint. Booth is at pains to render all this as clearly as possible, with feeling but not with sentimentality. Another of Byrd’s “standards” The queen’s alman receives a similarly clear and more assertive performance. That said, the Third pavan and galliard could have done with a touch more of the same assertiveness, as on this occasion Booth’s restraint sells this powerful piece slightly short. But it is another pavan and galliard pairing, dedicated to Ph[ilippa] Tr[egian], that shows Booth’s thoughtful and penetrating approach at its very best, most notably in the exquisite second strain in which Byrd’s closely argued counterpoint is beautifully presented, contributing to what has a strong claim to be the finest version on disc of this familiar and particularly intense work. The performance of Byrd’s deeply felt Pavan and Galliard BK52 in d (a work which seems to have influenced Gibbons, e.g. his Pavan MB 20/16) is on the same level of interpretation: as it were, gently persuading the notes to express Byrd’s profound intentions in the Pavan, while, as in Ph. Tr., putting a spring in the step of the Galliard without setting off too explosively.

There is an expectation, always fulfilled, that Byrd’s pavans will reward both performers and listeners, so they tend consistently to be selected for recordings and concerts. Until recently grounds did not possess that cache, perhaps suspected of being no more than academic exercises. Booth turns any such assumptions on their heads with enchanting renditions of two “short” Grounds. His pacing of both works – BK 27 and especially 43 – is ideal: patient enough to elucidate Byrd’s argument through his narrative counterpoint and appetizing harmonies but crisp enough not to plod. This appreciation of what such works have to offer has extended particularly to one of Byrd’s towering masterpieces Ut re mi fa sol la and although the nature of Byrd’s writing here means that it is best served by being performed on an organ which can sustain notes in order to give continuity to the piece’s narrative and to point up Byrd’s luscious suspensions, nevertheless even on the small harpsichord which Booth selects for this piece, he brings out most of these details.

Like his pavans, Byrd’s fantasias have always been de rigueur for discs and recitals. Booth chooses two of the best known, the Praeludium and Fantasia BK 12-13 and A fancy for my Lady Nevell BK 25. BK 13 Is the earliest masterpiece of European keyboard music, a kaleidoscope of melodies, harmonies, techniques and structures, the product of a restless yet disciplined mind. Some recordings of it have been rigid, some extravagant. Booth follows the contours of Byrd’s imagination and allows the music to speak for itself yet without discarding restraint. The result is an illuminating interpretation which manages to be clear but also expressive. Incidentally Booth observes the repeat at bars 58ff. which is noted by Byrd’s pupil Tomkins in his source, but which is omitted by Tregian in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. BK 25 can also be played as a powerhouse, its opening upward octave perhaps taken from Byrd’s setting of the word “lux” in his motet Descendit de coelis from his second book of Cantiones sacrae, 1591. Booth’s considered performance is more in the spirit of the piece being played domestically than one busting any of Byrd’s blocks, but still responding to the flow of Byrd’s creativity in what is one of his most surging keyboard works. The final work on the disc, A voluntary for my Lady Nevell, can also be mentioned in the context of fantasies (in his magnum opus about Byrd’s keyboard music Oliver Neighbour contentiously regards the terms fantasy and voluntary as interchangeable) and it brings the disc to a satisfactory close, presenting an attractive case for a piece that can sometimes be made by lesser players to sound a bit dry.

It remains to mention the two sets of variations on popular tunes that Booth places centrally in this programme. The carman’s whistle is an amiable ramble through the English countryside up alongside the carman on his horse and cart, as Booth responds appropriately to Byrd’s deceptively artless commentary on the tune, in both their cases concealing a more profound response. In the magnificent John come kiss me now Booth again does Byrd proud as the composer reaches forward across the centuries with some of his bluesiest cadences. Byrd’s variations are themselves varied throughout the piece, and his creative virtuosity is reflected in Booth’s measured but committed response.

Early in this review I suggest that Booth approaches Byrd’s works with affection. It is this approach that gives rise to a fine recording that is both likeable and recommendable.

Richard Turbet

Categories
Recording

Josquin Masses Gaudeamus & Ami Boudichon

The Tallis Scholars, directed by Peter Philips
66:30
Gimell CDGIM050

These are the thirteenth and fourteenth Josquin Masses to be recorded by the Tallis Scholars and that experience certainly tells. These are marvellously confident performances with great clarity in the singing, picked up by the excellent recording made in Merton College Chapel, Oxford. There is a particularly strong sense of line which carries right through each phrase without faltering, so very important for this music, and great unanimity between the two/three singers on each line. These two four-voice Masses show a particularly striking contrast. L’Ami Boudichon is one of Josquin’s earliest masses, based on a very simple five-note bawdy song in C mode. Despite the restriction of the material, Josquin manages a continuous variety, with strong ostinato-based build-ups at the ends of movements and a strikingly optimistic mood. Composed some twenty years later, the more sombre Missa Gaudeamus shows the full panoply of Josquin’s contrapuntal devices, with lots of intricate canons. It is based on an extended plainsong in the minor-sounding Dorian mode, of which the easily-recognisable first six notes are most prominent; there is much more harmonic depth and complexity, with some beautifully-sung duets. The two Masses make an excellent pairing and this disc is certainly a very worthy addition to the group’s Josquin series. This is an essential recording of some sublime music.

Noel O’Regan