Tag: Renaissance

Jean-Luc Ho organ/harpsichord
70:00
encelade ECL1401
Clarifica me Pater (III), Fantasias in D, G & A, Parson’s In Nomine, The Maiden’s Song, My Lady Nevell’s Ground, Pavan in A, Sir William Petre Pavan & Galliard, The Queen’s Alman, Susannah Fair, Ut re mi fa sol la & Walsingham

[dropcap]O[/dropcap]n this disc the French musician Jean-Luc Ho plays fifteen pieces by Byrd on two modern instruments which are “after” models from the sixteenth century. The organ, by Aurelien Delarge and Guillaume Rebinguet-Sudre (2012), is based on an instrument in Alkmaar which was the work of Hans von Coblentz (1511), while the harpsichord, by Ryo Yoshida (2010), is based on an original by the Venetian maker Alessandro Trasuntino of 1531 which is now at the Royal College of Music in London.

The list of the recording’s contents throws up two intriguing items. In 1999 Hyperion released Davitt Moroney’s recording of Byrd’s Complete keyboard music (CDA66551/7). However, Byrd’s contemporaries arranged several of his vocal or consort works for keyboard (published in Musica Britanica 55 or 66). Given the nature of Moroney’s project, he rightly excluded them from his boxed set, apart from O quam gloriosum because he agreed with Oliver Neighbour that it is the work of Byrd himself. Of the many recordings of Byrd’s keyboard music which have continued to be released since Moroney’s magnum opus, Aapo Hakkinen’s excellent William Byrd (1540-1623): music for the virginals has included the premiere of one such arrangement, the Lullaby (Alba ABCD 148, released in 2000). Now two more of these arrangements, both premieres, have been included on the record under review, establishing it as an important contribution to Byrd discography. The arrangements in question are of Susanna fair from Byrd’s Psalmes, sonets and songs of 1588; and of the Fantasia in four parts from the Psalmes, songs, and sonnets of 1611.

When it comes to the music itself, although the selection of material is interesting and varied, it does not hang together as a coherent programme. The opening track illustrates the problem of the disc in microcosm. The maiden’s song is an episodic piece that does not seem to be a natural overture. M. Ho plays it on the organ, and the occasional density of the passage work and chords in the left hand suggests that the piece is better suited to a harpsichord. He begins it stridently, and changes registration for each of the eight variations, but these new registrations do not assist the continuity of Byrd’s rhetorical flow, with the result that the interpretation of the piece overall seems choppy and a bit disjointed, and the impression of the programme as a whole reflects these qualities. The problem is not so much in the selection of pieces, though more pavans and galliards would not have gone amiss; nor in the sequence, though there is a central block of variational pieces followed by another block of discursive pieces, and these pieces in the two central blocks could have been shuffled to greater effect. It is in the interpretation of individual pieces where the problem inherent in this recording seems to abide.

The playing of the individual pieces is competent enough, but does not manage to be engaging. Walsingham itself, the title track, could be interpreted as expressing internal turmoil, wherein Byrd exploits differences of tempo, texture and figuration in a virtuoso manner: for instance, in one pair of variations 15 and 16, the first of the pair begins in duple time, then changes to triple time halfway through; then the following variation begins with triple time in the right hand and simultaneous duple time in the left. Also, the final three variations 20-22 form one of the most emotional climaxes that Byrd ever wrote for the keyboard. Capably though M. Ho plays the piece, the tensions within the piece are never exploited in his interpretation, which is not bland, but is hardly gripping either. Similarly, M. Ho’s Ut re mi fa sol la makes far less impact than Moroney’s penetrating recording in an ungrateful acoustic. Shorter pieces such as Byrd’s own arrangement of Parson’s In nomine and the far more familiar Queen’s alman seem shouty, while the Fantasia in A, Byrd’s first masterpiece for keyboard and a musical wonderland of opposites magically contrived to dwell in harmony one with another, is also a missed opportunity. The rest of the pieces are all well enough chosen and capably played, but none of the performances catch fire or shine a light on adjacent pieces, so the overall impression is of worthiness rather than inspiration. On a positive note, it was a good decision to commission the notes on the music from Dennis Collins: they are concise and excellent.

Finally, I have issues with all three (sic) transcriptions of pieces by Byrd included on this disc. There is only one source for Susanna fair yet in the repeated passage that concludes the work, M. Ho flattens the E in the “alto” part to create a C minor chord, which contradicts the unique source and also the sharpened Fs at the same point in Byrd’s original versions, which are set a tone higher, for five-part choir and for voice and viols. This seems contrary and unnecessary. Similarly in bar 21 of the Fantasia he flattens the second E (a minim) in the “treble” part, contrary to the lone original source of the keyboard transcription and the printed version for consort, which leave the note naturalized like the first E (a crotchet). This is regrettable since in the opinion of Oliver Neighbour (supported by Alan Brown) the transcription for keyboard, undoubtedly by Byrd’s pupil Thomas Tomkins, is of an early version, c. 1590, of the Fantasia subsequently published with a few slight differences (though not in this instance) in 1611, as noted above. The disc concludes with a modern transcription, presumably by M. Ho himself, of Byrd’s Memento salutis auctor in three parts from his first book of Gradualia, 1605. Why? It is certainly a most agreeable piece, and seems to be relatively popular on Continental Europe because the first commercial recording, even before The Cardinall’s Musick’s Byrd Edition, was by a Spanish choir; but it was neither composed for keyboard by Byrd nor arranged by one of his contemporaries, and with a repertory of a hundred pieces for keyboard by Byrd from which to choose, plus half a dozen contemporary keyboard arrangements of his vocal or consort music still awaiting a commercial recording, one of these, especially from among the latter, would have been preferable to a work with no provenance for keyboard.

Richard Turbet

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The Brabant Ensemble, Stephen Rice
76:33
Hyperion Records CDA68088
Ave Maria a3, Domine non secundum peccata nostra, In illo tempore… Non turbetur, O pulcherima inter mulieres, O vos omnes, Surge Petre

Alastair Harper

Beauty Farm (Bart Uvyn countertenor, Achim Schulz, Adriaan de Koster & Hannes Wagner tenor, Joachim Höchbauer & Martin Vögerl bass
117:09 (2 CDs)
frabernardo FB 1504211
Motets a4 Domine non secundum peccata, O Domina mundi, Sancta Maria mater Dei, Salve regina, Si ignoras te
Motets a5 Ave mater matris Dei, Emendemus in melius, O beata Maria, O flos campi, Sancta et immaculata, Tribulatio cordis mei, Veni dilecta mea
Motets a6 Ave salus mundi, Benedicta es, Descendi in hortum meum, O crux splendidior, O Jesu Christe succurre miseris, Peccata mea sicut saguttæ, Si bona suscepimus

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he quirkily named Beauty Farm draws its membership from a number of top continental ensembles and sounds beautifully blended with accurate intonation. If the recorded sound gave an initial impression of claustrophobia, by no means inappropriate for Gombert, I soon warmed to it. What seemed lacking was a wide dynamic range, with long sections delivered at an amiable mezzo forte and little attempt at anything atmospherically quiet or dramatically loud. The performances seem to rely on Gombert’s often remarkable harmonic progressions, but sometimes these were just not enough to hold the attention, and I could certainly have done with more expressive singing.

The two discs offer a generous cross-section of Gombert’s motets in four, five and six parts, and if the performances were a bit unrelenting in large helpings, this may well be a collection best dipped into rather than consumed in its entirety. The notes make extravagant claims for the new editions being performed – ‘the new editions… reveal a dark, intricate, rough and vibrant music.’ This seems to be attributed to the new application of musica ficta. As a performer grown increasingly suspicious of the overenthusiastic application of these chromatic inflections, I would be wary of any suggestion that they reveal anything hidden about a composer’s original intentions – the lack any specific examples in the notes leaves the question open.

D. James Ross

Nicolas Gombert (c1495-1560) “was probably the most important composer of the generation of musicians between Josquin and Palestrina along with… Morales and Clemens.” His dense and complex polyphony is uncompromising in its demands, on both performers and listener alike, but richly repays the effort!

Beauty Farm (why the name??) and especially their editor, Jorge Martin, are to be congratulated on assembling this fine collection of some of Gombert’s greatest motets. Particular highlights for me were the opening track of disc 1, Veni Dilecta Mea, with its cantus firmus obstinatus ‘Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis’, the magnificent Peccata Mea on the same disc, with its wonderful cadential ‘Miserere mei’ closing both prima and seconda pars, and the remarkable polytextual Salve Regina on disc 2, with each voice having a different Marian text, all finally coinciding (to satisfying effect) on the closing ‘O Dulcis Maria.’

Performances are one-to-a-part, in the mellow acoustic of Kartause Mauerbach. Musica Ficta is convincingly and copiously applied, resulting in some absolutely astonishing harmonic clashes. Tone and blend are excellent, although words are often rather indistinct, and there is a certain sameness in the music-making; these wondrous pieces are, however, best listened to and enjoyed in small doses, so the latter need not concern one unduly. Jorge Martin’s sleeve notes are good, though one would have liked a little more detailed description of the individual motets.

Alastair Harper

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Ring Around Quartet & Consort
60:06
Naxos 8.573320
Music by Capirola, Cara, Dalza, Festa, da Fogliano, Patavino, Pesenti, Tromboncino, Willaert, Zesso & anon

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]hese performers take a free but ultimately convincing approach to the secular music of Renaissance Italy, singing with relatively ‘naïve’ vocal production and feeling free to introduce glissandi and other vocal effects. The instrumental playing has an attractive élan to it, nicely offsetting the sometimes rather opaque sound of the voices. Notwithstanding the sterling efforts of the performers there is an undoubted sameness to much of this material, and this is undoubtedly a collection to dip in and out of rather than to consume in its entirety as I have to as a reviewer. By the end I felt as if I had eaten an entire bag of dolly mixtures at one sitting!

I did particularly enjoy Atsufumi Ujiie’s winsome way with a recorder and Marcello Serafini’s idiomatic and imaginative guitar contribution. Many Naxos releases of this sort are recorded accounts of live performances, and very often you can’t help feeling that many of them would work better with the theatrical presence of the performers, an element lost in the recorded account. Naxos’s modus operandi often leads performers to record with them in order to have high-quality CDs to sell at performances, and the present CD may well fall into this category, but is nonetheless enjoyable as an independent recording.

D. James Ross

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Capella Mediterranea, Clematis, L’Acheron, Vox luminis, Doulce Memoire, Choeur de Chambre de Namur
69:50
Ricercar RIC355

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is somewhat variable. The first of the six early versions of Ancor che col partire, spread through the 19 tracks, makes clear that this was one of the famous adaptations. Other such pieces are included as well, and the seven different ensembles provide variety in style, though I got a bit tired of the automatic quick runs. I also felt a bit awkward in some of the shaping of the singers – though not enough to avoid buying this disc, which marks the 35th anniversary of the label Ricercar.

The booklet is thorough, explaining the importance of Cipriano de Rore (1515/16-1565) as a major composer, though it would be easier if the commentary gave a general introduction then described each piece in order. This is not so much a survey of his madrigals, however, and there’s a gap between no. 6 and 15 with no voices present. It’s worth hearing, but I don’t want to listen to too many such embellishments.

Clifford Bartlett

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Devotional Contrafacta in Italian music during the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries
Anonimo Frottolisti
72:40
Tactus TC 400006

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t may be that I was a little frottole d-out when I came to review this CD, but its exploration of Italian popular music refurnished with devotional texts failed to engage me. The rather trivial and repetitive dance and vocal music seemed largely unworthy of the religious texts fitted to it, and the performances, adequate but uninspiring, did little to convince me of the virtues of unearthing this material. Recorded in an alarming variety of acoustics from the very dead to the quite resonant, the CD cruelly exposes some of the singing as rather amateurish, although the instrumental contribution is generally more convincing. The combination of generally dodgy singing and seemingly endless repetitions of material which is not terribly inspired to start with certainly failed to convince this listener. I’m afraid you will find better performances of most of this material elsewhere.

D. James Ross

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chant 1450, Ken Zuckerman Indian sarod
68:23
Christophorus CHR77397

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is a bit of a rag-bag: chant from All Souls’ Day from a 1545 manuscript from Toledo (is that particularly different from other places and periods?) – that’s the death element, interrupted by erotic songs by Enzina (Encina in Grove), with a third element from North Indian art music; surprisingly, I was aware of such music in 1960/61 thanks to a student who visited a very small group and talked and played to a few friends in Cambridge.

The chant lacks any explicit emotion, and the Enzina is hardly erotic – it sounds rather dull in comparison with what I know of him. The sarod has the advantage of vigorous movement. But you will need to be a certain type to make much sense from the CD as a whole.

Clifford Bartlett

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Doulce Mémoire, Denis Raisin Dadre
143:03 (2 CDs)
ZigZag Territoires ZZT357

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his volume looks more like a book than a pair of CDs, with 132pp including monochrome pictures of the performers, the others being full colour facsimiles of pictures and music. The two discs are slipped into the front and back covers. The first is concerned with the Mass for the Field of the Cloth of Gold. This was a combined event, shared between French and English singers on 23rd June 1520 and led by Cardinal Wolsey and the Papal Legate. It would be interesting to prepare an edition for a celebration of the 500th anniversary which choirs and ad hoc bodies could enjoy, especially if the two nationalities were alternated as in the original. The pronunciation, however, was entirely French. There were eight singers and seven players – the 24 English trumpeters presumably were banned from the Mass.

The second disc is concerned with the chanson (five singers and seven instrumentalists). The section on “women, music, and prohibitions” (p. 28) draws on the usual complaints of women singing in public: “With music the rude peasant lass, who is up before day to spin or weave, wards off her drowsiness and makes her toil a pleasure”! The music, however, is elegant, and presumably not related to peasant lasses. I’d be happier if the discussion of the chansons had been placed together with the sources, texts and translations. As it is, the contents of CD2 are more awkward to read than CD1. These reservations aside, this is an impressive publication.

Clifford Bartlett

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The Sixteen, Harry Christophers
71:23
Missa L’Homme armé, Song of Songs 16–18
+De profundie clamavi, Parce mihi Domine, Peccantem me quotidie, Si ambulavero in medio tribulationis, Super flumina Babylonis, Tribularer si nescirem, Tribulationes civitatum

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he Sixteen’s representative account of Palestrina’s music has reached volume six, and sticking to the tried and true formula of programming a handful of motets, some items from The Song of Songs and a Mass setting, they are singing the five-part Mass L’Homme armé with penitential and devotional settings. In the past I have felt that this series has sounded rather passionless, recorded as it seems at a reverential distance, and this CD too seems occasionally a little cold and dispassionate. The penitential motets include some of Palestrina’s most impassioned writing, and these suave performances seem to lack the edge necessary to bring this out fully. It seems odd to single Palestrina out for this rather bland treatment, possibly due to his retrospective reputation as the archetypal composer of flawless Renaissance church polyphony. In a similar way The Song of Songs material seems drained of much of the erotic charge it can be given by a smaller ensemble of voices.

Palestrina’s masterly five-part contribution to the L’Homme armé tradition evokes some attempt at more highly characterized singing from The Sixteen, but again the relatively large forces and the respectfully spacious acoustic take the edge off this account. Don’t get me wrong. These are beautifully sung accounts, perfectly blended and without the operatic wobble which threatened at one point to invade The Sixteen’s lovely sound, and those who like their polyphony to wash around them like an unthreatening warm bath will love them. I found them just too elegant and a little toothless.

D. James Ross

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