'Sit back and relish this treasure trove which has clearly been prepared with passion.' Gramophone Choice 'a delightful performance.' BBC Music Magazine 'This is sound you could listen to all day, the kind that no matter how loud you play it, it never appears anything but natural. This is a first-rate job all the way around.' Classical Candor, USA The Sixteen and Associate Conductor, Eamonn Dougan, follow up the success of the first disc in their new Polish series with a new recording devoted to music from the court of Sigismund III Vasa. The second disc in the series explores a selection of fascinating music composed by the Italian maestri at the Polish Court of the 16th and early 17th centuries including works by Asprilio Pacelli (1570-1623), Vincenzo Bertolusi (c.1550-1608), and Giovanni Francesco Anerio (c.1567-1630) .

Gorgeous and poignant music, performed with wholehearted fervor by an excellent choir.

This will turn out to be, I am sure, one of my favorite recordings of 2012. I first came upon Jonathan Dove’s music on a Hyperion recording of his sacred music, featuring the Wells Cathedral Choir, conducted by Matthew Owens (2010). Over the last year I have occasionally returned to that CD, each time coming away more impressed by Dove’s writing. This new CD has only confirmed and strengthened that impression.

The recording opens with The Passing of the Year, a song-cycle written for double chorus and piano, dedicated in memory of Dove’s mother. The work, which is made up of seven movements divided into three main sections, takes the listener literally and metaphorically through changing seasons. Thankfully, Naxos does not follow its increasingly common practice of making the listener go to its website to search out the texts though they can be found here. Listening with the poetry at hand only increased my admiration for Dove’s sensitive text setting.

The work opens with Invocation, the voices repeatedly singing “O Earth, return!” with an ever increasing intensity. This leads into an extended setting of William Blake’s The narrow bud opens her beauties to the sun, that features contrasting textures of soloist versus choir and high versus low voice to convey the idea of “Summer breaking forth.” The third movement sets Emily Dickinson’s Answer July as a call and response between female and male voices that perfectly captures the playfulness of the text. Movement 4 begins the second section begins with Hot Sun, cool fire, a setting of words by George Peele that uses slowly shifting dissonant chords to evoke how difficult it can be to breathe, let alone move, on a brutally hot summer day. The cycle’s emotional climax is found in Movement 6, a setting of Thomas Nashe’s Adieu! Farewell earth’s bliss. Over an ostinato that bares a passing resemblance to the final minutes of Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms, one of the choirs intones “Lord, have mercy on us,” as the other choir sings, in achingly beautiful harmonies, about the inevitability of death.

Three times these competing choral textures break off so that all voices can join together in singing “I am sick, I must die”. Even after listening several times, Dove’s setting leaves me shaken. The sadness of that movement is effectively dispelled by the final Ring out, wild bells, a passage from Alfred Lord Tennyson’s In Memoriam that speaks of the promises found in the beginning of a New Year.

The rest of the program is just as impressive as the Song Cycle, and displays a greater variety of musical styles, including a solo for mezzo-soprano (My love is mine), three songs for upper voice/women’s choir (It sounded as if the streets were running). The CD is rounded out with Advent and Christmas music, including The Three Kings, written for Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at King’s College, Cambridge.

Dove’s music is impressive, with attractive melodies and tonal harmonic writing. Nevertheless, he is not afraid to use dissonance when it more strongly projects and expresses the text, and his writing displays a particularly strong skill in creating onomatopoeic effects. When I began my listening, I thought it would be helpful to note where Dove’s writing seemed reminiscent of other composers’ work. Sometimes the piano writing, which often uses ostinato figures, reminds me of the minimalists Steven Reich and John Adams. A few of Dove’s melodies soar in a way that recalls Samuel Barber. Answer July brings thoughts of Benjamin Britten’s “Ballad of the Green Broom” from Five Flower Songs. I share these comments not to suggest that Dove is in any way a derivative composer, but rather to express how highly I rate his work. Dove is very much his own man, with masterly word setting that reminds me most strongly of Benjamin Britten and, on this side of the Atlantic, Libby Larsen.

Dove receives the strongest advocacy from his performers. The Convivium Singers, under the assured direction of Neil Ferris, display admirable control of the long line and excellent intonation. I find the balance to be a bit dominated by the women’s voices, and would not have minded a few more men in each section. But the balance never detracted from my immense enjoyment of this recording. Accompanist Christopher Cromar’s playing is splendid, self-effacing virtuosity that serves the choir and the music.

I urge you to purchase this CD as quickly as possible. It is gorgeous and poignant music, performed with wholehearted fervor by an excellent choir, all at budget price.

– David A. McConnell, MusicWeb International

Naxos, the world's leading classical music group, supports the Alzheimer's Association with the release of the Purple Classics series. Each release in this new series of 10 recordings features approximately 2 hours of classical music on 2 CDs. For every CD sold through June 23, 2017, Naxos will donate $.50 to the Alzheimer's Association, with a minimum donation of $25,000,to advance their efforts in Alzheimer's care, support and research.

Includes work(s) by various composers. Ensembles: Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, Bournemouth Symphony Chorus. Conductor: Peter Breiner.

"This splendid disc would make an ideal introduction to Russian Orthodox choral music for first-time listeners...There is no doubt of the fervent faith and commitment of the performers, which is convincingly transmitted by the high-definition recording."
—John Miller, SA-CD.net

"With performances as splendid as this, the Liturgy [Tchaikovsky] is likely to gain more of an audience in the West. The recording was made in the Church of the Transfiguration...and the gentle, warm reverberation seems perfectly suited to the program."
—Michael Cameron, Fanfare
"One of the successes of the Gloriae Dei Cantores in the field of sacred music is not undue attention to ancient performance practices or other such scholarly pursuits, but instead a love of and commitment to the spirit of the music as reflected in the spiritual intent of the composer. Their ability to migrate from one genre to the other with nary a wink and a nod is something quite phenomenal in this day and age...this spacious and well-balanced Super Audio sound adds a dimension of projection and sonic splendor that only doubles the value of this already much-desirable disc. Highest recommendation!"
—Steven Ritter, Audiophile Audition

DI VITTORIO Overtura Respighiana 1. Symphony No. 2, “Lost Innocence 1.” Ave Maria 2. Symphony No. 1, “Isolation 1.” Clarinet Sonata No. 1 3 • 1,2 Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; 2 Respighi Choir; 3 Benjamin Baron (cl); 1 New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572333 (56:52)


RESPIGHI Aria for Strings. Violin Concerto in A. Suite for Strings. Rossiniana: Suite • Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; Laura Marzadori (vn); New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572332 (77:32)


If Palermo-born Salvatore Di Vittorio (b.1967) is new to you (as he is to me), based on these two Naxos releases you might be justified in thinking he’s a third-generation relation to Italian composer Ottorino Respighi. That’s because as a conductor, Di Vittorio leads an ensemble he founded and named “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York in a program of works by Respighi. As an arranger, he revised and/or completed three of the works heard on the second of these two discs. And as a composer, Di Vittorio has been hailed as a “lyrical romantic … following in the footsteps of Respighi.” Though a reading of Di Vittorio’s biography on his website (salvatoredivittorio.com/bio.html) discloses no direct link to the former composer, it appears that Respighi is near and dear to Di Vittorio’s heart.


In a sense, you might say that in at least one of his compositions, Overtura Respighiana , Di Vittorio has channeled Respighi to write music that the real Respighi might have written himself, for the piece is a devilishly delightful concoction that plays on Respighi’s Rossiniana and Pines of Rome , fusing them with references to Di Vittorio’s own music, to create a kind of freshly minted Boutique fantasque.


The Symphony No. 2, titled “Lost Innocence,” on the other hand, does not, as far as I can tell, quote anything by Respighi, but the brilliant swatches of instrumental color Di Vittorio weaves into and through this striking musical tapestry is reminiscent of Respighi’s way with the orchestral palette. Di Vittorio tells us that the work was inspired by the tragedy of the Yugoslav civil wars in the late 1990s. Its four movements—“Requiem for a Child,” “Dance of Tears,” “Childheart,” and “Elegy: Marcia Funebre”—at least up until the finale, reflect a calm that is neither quiet nor peaceful, but one that builds toward a shattering, tragic ending.


The Ave Maria for a cappella women’s chorus is one of Di Vittorio’s conservatory works, written in 1995 (revised in 1998) after graduating from the Manhattan School of Music. At first it struck my ear as fairly dissonant, sounding almost like it could have been written by Penderecki, Lutos?awski, or Vasks, but as the piece unfolded, emerging from the harmonic counterpoint were passages that, with just a few minor adjustments to the voice-leading, sounded as if they might have come from a cappella moments in Verdi’s Requiem. Di Vittorio confirms that impression in his booklet note, stating that a number of influences run through the piece, from Palestrina and Monteverdi to Verdi, and that “in particular, certain resemblances may be traced to Verdi’s choral Ave Maria .” The effects of Di Vittorio’s piece are quite arresting, simultaneously stark and austere yet illuminated from within by a shimmering light that leads to a most meltingly beautiful cadential Amen.


The Symphony No. 1, titled “Isolation,” dates to one year before the Ave Maria but was revised in 1999. No borrowings from Respighi appear in this score either, yet his spirit hovers over it in the luminous divided string writing and exquisite chiaroscuro effects. This is a strings-only work, and according to Di Vittorio one of its influences was Vivaldi’s seldom-performed Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro , RV 169, one of Vivaldi’s most harmonically tortured works, written in a highly chromatic idiom intended to represent Christ’s pain and suffering. For Di Vittorio, the “Isolation” Symphony is meant to depict man’s alienation from himself and his fellow man. If you were to listen to the piece without knowing that, I’m not sure you would necessarily pick up specifically on that theme. The music is sad, to be sure, even brooding, but more than once it put me in mind of Barber’s Adagio for Strings , a piece that is somehow uplifting in its tragedy.


The Di Vittorio-as-composer CD closes with another work revised in 1998, the Clarinet Sonata No. 1. Not reflected in its title is the fact that it’s a piece for unaccompanied clarinet, which is a bit of a challenge for both composer and performer, considering that a solo wind instrument, unlike a violin or cello, can’t make its own harmony by playing double-stops or chords. But I suppose if Bach and Debussy could write for unaccompanied flute, there’s no reason the solo capabilities of other wind instruments shouldn’t be explored. Di Vittorio notes that he drew inspiration and advice for the work from his father, Giuseppe, who was a clarinetist. Di Vittorio claims to have been influenced by Verdi, Brahms, Berlioz, and elements of French Baroque dance, though these elements are not easily discerned due to the nature of the music’s syntax and style, which consists largely of loosely connected contrasting phrases that never quite seem to coalesce into an identifiable whole. Nonetheless, Benjamin Baron’s very accomplished clarinet playing invites further listening and offers a promise that there is more to this piece than meets the ear on first hearing.


Critics can be a cruel lot—I know because I’m one of them—and there are those who will say, and already have, that music like this being written today is irrelevant. That’s a strong sentiment, for sure, but nowhere near as judgmental as someone like Pierre Boulez would be. He is quoted as having said that composers who write music like this simply don’t exist, prompting an acquaintance of mine to describe Boulez as “the Dr. Mengele of France.” With one wave of his hand, off you go to the gas chamber. My attitude, as expressed on a number of past occasions, is that beautiful music is beautiful music, regardless of when it’s written, and Di Vittorio proves himself with this CD to be a composer of beautiful music extraordinaire. I strongly recommend this release to you for many hours of listening pleasure.


The second of the two entries consists entirely of music by Respighi, though Di Vittorio has had a hand in the realization of three of the four of the works as heard on the disc. I’m not sure just how seriously Respighi was ever taken by critics and the academic elite, but thanks to a small number of works—primarily his Roman trilogy, the Ancient Airs and Dances suites, and La Boutique fantasque —he came to enjoy considerable exposure and popularity, especially in the U.S. Toscanini premiered the third number of the Roman trilogy, Feste Romane , with the New York Philharmonic in 1929, and then went on to record the piece for RCA twice, once in 1942 with the Philadelphia Orchestra and a second time with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1949, adding the Fountains of Rome in 1951 and the Pines of Rome in 1953. Toscanini wasn’t the only one to climb aboard the Respighi bandwagon. Mengelberg premiered the composer’s Toccata for Piano and Orchestra with the New York Philharmonic in 1928, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra commissioned Respighi’s Metamorphoseon for its 50th anniversary in 1931.


Yet of Respighi’s nearly 200 scores—among which are nine operas, five ballets, several concertos, quite a few chamber works, and a considerable volume of vocal and choral numbers—a good deal of it is unrecorded and rarely, if ever, performed. The reasons seem to be twofold. First, the critics and opinion-makers, while acknowledging the composer’s gift for colorful orchestration and pictorial illusionism, regarded the music as “derivative,” “cinematic,” and even “vulgar,” by which I prefer to think they meant lacking in substance and depth rather than tawdry and tasteless. The truth of the matter is that there is nothing any more cinematic or “vulgar,” if you choose to use that word, about Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome , written in 1916, than there is about Bloch’s Schelomo written a year earlier. But the second, and perhaps more serious, criticism Respighi faced—though it was largely unjustified—was that he was a supporter of Mussolini’s fascist regime. Evidence seems to suggest that Respighi didn’t have a political bone in his body, but it may have been his very passivity and silence that were damning.


The 24-year-old Respighi began work on a violin concerto in 1903. Only the first two movements were completed; the third remained in a piano reduction with just a few measures orchestrated. After analyzing the score, Di Vittorio made enhancements to the orchestration of the first two movements and completed the third using material from the other movements. Di Vittorio’s completion was premiered in New York in 2010. I note a 1994 recording of the concerto on a Bongiovani CD, but it is only of Respighi’s original first two movements. The current performances of both the concerto and the Aria for Strings, transcribed by Di Vittorio, are world premiere recordings. The concerto, which owes much to Vivaldi and early Mendelssohn, inhabits a world of lyrical sunshine that plays on the senses like a fresh breeze bearing scents of an Italian vineyard in spring. Thanks to the efforts of Di Vittorio, and the capable hands and sensitive voice of violinist Laura Marzadori, this romantically expressive score is brought to us complete for the first time.


The even earlier 1901 Aria, Respighi’s salute to his Italian heritage by way of Frescobaldi, Corelli, and, again, Vivaldi, found its way into the composer’s Suite in G Major for Strings and Organ. Di Vittorio makes of it a lovely air for string orchestra. Both the Aria and the Suite were revised or edited to prepare the very first printed editions (score and parts) of each score. Up until now, only manuscript copies of the score and parts existed for both works. Beyond this, Di Vittorio then made slight adjustments to the Aria to make it suitable for not only string orchestra but string quintet, in order to promote Respighi’s music in academic settings, such as conservatories and music colleges.


The booklet does not explain to what extent Di Vittorio “revised” Respighi’s Suite for Strings, cataloged as P 41. The piece is a six-movement suite in Baroque style that anticipates Respighi’s later and very popular Ancient Airs and Dances.


Six years after Respighi visited Rossini’s collection of piano pieces titled Les Riens (“Trifles,” aka “Sins of my Old Age”) for his ballet La Boutique fantasque in 1919, he returned to mine the mother lode again in 1925 for his Rossiniana Suite. It is given here in unaltered form and in a delightful performance by Di Vittorio’s “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York. As one of Respighi’s more popular works, there is of course serious competition in the suite, not least among which is a classic 1967 recording with Ansermet (one of his last) and the Suisse Romande Orchestra.


The current Naxos release, in addition to excellent performances and recording, offers to the Respighi fan a combination of never-before-heard music and works in never-before-heard transcriptions by Salvatore Di Vittorio. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

With fine organ playing from Jonathan Vaughn and excellent recorded sound(producer, Andrew Walton), the disc ranks among the best choral issues of recent times. John Steane, Gramophone

Classical Music

Compared with large-scale oratorios such as St Paul, which includes the lyrical chorus How lovely are the messengers, Mendelssohn’s smaller sacred choral works were influenced by Palestrina, ranging from short liturgical motets such as the Sechs Sprüche to the canticle settings of the Magnificat and Nunc dimittis. The famous sacred melody ‘O for the wings of a dove’ is to be found in Hear my prayer. The fine choristers of St Albans Cathedral can also be heard ‘on sparkling form’ (Gramophone) in John Rutter’s Gloria (8.572653).

A historic collection of music that inspired a nation and it's President, all performed by the extraordinary musician's of our nation's military bands, orchestras and ensembles with a special track featuring narration by legendary CBS anchorman Walter Cronkite.

Morten Lauridsen has been very fortunate in his treatment by choirs and record labels. Part of the reason is because his music is just so sonorous, singable, and sellable. But, sticking with the alliteration, it's also "serious" in the sense that his style seems to come from a genuine and personal conviction rather than from some external, commercial or image-driven influence. His music is functional, if you want it to be, but it also serves very well as pure concert material, and the three choral cycles Lux Aeterna, Les Chansons des Roses, and Madrigali have achieved a degree of success in that role. I've commented in detail regarding Lauridsen's style in previous reviews, and you can find such a description by typing Q8554 in Search Reviews, which refers to a Hyperion recording by Stephen Layton and Polyphony that duplicates two-thirds of the program presented here.


It takes only a few minutes of listening to discern some of the primary features--some would say "formulaic traits"--characteristic of Lauridsen's more popular works, exemplified in O magnum mysterium and the Lux aeterna cycle. But it's hard not to luxuriate along with the choir in the rich-textured sound and affectingly simple melodic phrases. The work here that's not on the Polyphony recording is the choral cycle Les Chansons des Roses. Premiered in 1993, the five songs are set to poems about roses by Rainer Maria Rilke. The final one, Dirait-on (here with the composer at the piano), has become a concert favorite, but the others are equally worthy of attention by accomplished choirs. The Lux Aeterna cycle is a masterpiece of Lauridsen's kind of choral sonority and word-setting, the organ accompaniment a perfect complement to the singers' "organ-like" textures and timbres.


My only real criticism of Polyphony's performances (that disc also includes Ave Maria and Ubi caritas et amor) was its dreadfully slow reading of Lauridsen's now-ubiquitous O magnum mysterium, which retained the resonance of the harmonies but sapped the energy from the long, flowing phrases. Well, if I thought that version was slow, Nicol Matt and his Chamber Choir of Europe--unquestionably one of the world's top-tier ensembles--had a surprise in store: this one is nearly a quarter of a minute longer! Aside from some sort of odd competition (the score clearly, wisely, indicates a much faster tempo), I can't understand the purpose for the snail's pace, notwithstanding the fact that it's effortlessly sung. At any rate, this is another excellent Lauridsen program that will please choral enthusiasts and hopefully will expand this composer's reach to listeners who still haven't made his acquaintance. The sound, from two different church venues in Germany, is very good if a touch bright and weighted toward treble at louder volume on some tracks. [11/9/2006]
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Dvorák’s Requiem seems to be making a comeback, with new recordings by Järvi, Jansons, and best of all, this one by Antoni Wit, featuring the excellent Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir and four first-class soloists. It’s not an easy work to bring off as far as requiems go. Less histrionic than the Berlioz, less operatic than the Verdi, the work is symphonic in conception and structure, with a chromatic “death” motive that runs through most of its movements, and tightly integrated textures requiring careful balances between the soloists, choir, and orchestra.

The work’s architecture is impressive: two parts, each containing a central pillar marked off by repetitions of a big chorus, the Dies irae in Part One, and the Quam olim Abrahae (the catchiest choral fugue in the entire 19th century) in Part Two. That Dvorák was clearly thinking in terms of balance and large-scale structure is shown by his placement of the Pie Jesu between the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei. Normally it forms part of the Dies irae sequence, but here it represents an island of repose before the large-scale, recapitulatory finale, while bringing the timing of the second part more in line with the first.

One of the most interesting things about the Requiem is that, unlike almost all of its predecessors, it does not end with a vision of consolation. In fact, the conclusion is remarkably unsentimental, even grim, with Dvorák returning to the “death” motive and staying in a minor key right up to the final bar. Conceptually it’s more like Mahler’s Sixth, with its “fate” motives, than virtually any other contemporary work, and this fact may account for the music’s comparative neglect. It is, without question, a masterpiece.

Hitherto there have been two great recordings: Ancerl’s on Supraphon, and Kertesz’s on Decca. This one effortlessly joins them. Wit just may be the best conductor around these days for big choral works such as this (remember his knockout Mahler Eighth). He finds more ear-catching detail in the music than anyone else has to date. Even the biggest climaxes of the Dies irae never turn thick and heavy. The flowing tempos certainly help, but there is throughout a remarkable clarity to the textures that reveals a real podium master directing a first-class ensemble.

The soloists, who have a lot to do, are also uniformly excellent. In Christiane Libor we have a soprano with plenty of heft to the voice without a hint of shrillness; tenor Daniel Kirch never sounds like he’s crooning; Janusz Monarcha is a real bass, with no trace of wobble anywhere in his tone, while Ewa Wolak never sounds like she’d be better off taking the contralto lead in Gilbert and Sullivan. They are marvelous both singly and as a group, particularly in the mostly solo Recordare. First class engineering makes this a wonderfully satisfying release that hopefully will win many new friends for this powerfully expressive and masterful work.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

VAUGHAN WILLIAMS Mass in g. The Voice out of the Whirlwind 1. Valiant-for-truth. Three Choral Hymns 1. Nothing Is Here for Tears 1. A Vision of Aeroplanes 2. The Souls of the Righteous. A Choral Flourish 1 • Timothy Brown, cond; 1 Ashok Gupta (org); 2 James McVinnie (org); Ch of Clare College Cambridge • NAXOS 8.572465 (63:11)


Vaughan Williams is probably my favorite 20th-century composer; I adore virtually every note that he set to paper. (There are admittedly a few clinkers, such as the Piano Concerto). One of the few works of his that heretofore has failed to appeal to me is the Mass in G Minor, which has always seemed pleasant but not particularly distinguished. That has now changed radically with this disc. The moment the Kyrie sounded through my speakers, I sat bolt upright in my chair, slackjawed and dumbfounded at the ethereal, pellucid purity and superb articulation of the singing, the fleet vigor and elegance of the pacing, and the astonishing inventiveness of the composer’s adaptation of Renaissance means to modern ends in the manner of his stupendous Tallis Fantasia . (As in the earlier work, Vaughan Williams again created an antiphonal contrast between a solo quartet and a larger ensemble.)


The experience sent me scrambling to audition every other recording of the Mass on which I could lay my hands, to find out what I previously had been missing. My conclusion is that most recordings err in using far too large a choir and correspondingly slower tempi, resulting in an overly opaque sound that overburdens a finely wrought, delicate score. To bring out properly the neorenaissance character of the music, a smaller ensemble is needed. In Fanfare 26:2 James Miller cited a Cedille CD by the Chicago-based ensemble His Majestie’s Clerkes as his favorite, I suspect (though not explicitly stated) for reasons similar to mine. (Martin Anderson voiced a contrary opinion in 21:6.) However, the acoustic in that recording is extremely reverberant, overly so for my taste, whereas Naxos gets it exactly right, with balanced clarity and depth. The other recordings I have found with a similar approach are an ABC disc with the Trinity College Choir of Melbourne, which uses boy trebles instead of female sopranos (I prefer the distaff voices here), and a Delphian CD with the Laudibus chamber choir and a highly transparent, echt -Renaissance ensemble sound (I find the Clare College Choir a bit livelier and better blended). In sum, this is now the recording of choice for this work.


The other pieces recorded here are performed on a similarly high plane, and have much less competition, especially since some (The Voice out of the Whirlwind, Three Choral Hymns, A Vision of Aeroplanes ) are offered with organ rather than orchestral accompaniment. All are very typical of the composer’s choral works, except for Vision with its exotically spiky and dissonant opening section, evoking the roar of an aircraft squadron by analogy with the prophet Ezekiel’s apocalyptic vision of four winged creatures. The closest thing to a competitor in this combination of repertoire is the Hyperion disc with the Westminster Cathedral Choir, containing the Mass, Valiant for Truth , and Vision , but the Naxos CD is superior in every way. This is also apparently the first recording of Nothing Is Here for Tears , and the only available recording of the Exultate justi . The booklet notes, by the conductor, are excellent; the only flaw in this production is the lack of texts, which, given the density of certain passages, are a necessity even with fine choral diction. A Google search will turn up all of those on line; in addition to that of the traditional Latin Mass, they are:


• The Voice out of the Whirlwind : Job 38:1–10 and 16–17, 40:7–10.


• A Vision of Aeroplanes: Ezekiel 1:4–28.


• The souls of the Righteous : Wisdom of Solomon 3:1–3.


• Exultate justi : Psalms 32:11 and 33:1–4.


• Valiant-for-Truth : The passage regarding that character in the last chapter of The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan, beginning, “After this it was noised abroad.”


• Nothing Is Here for Tears : a potted version of lines 1721–40 from Book IV of Paradise Regained by John Milton.


• Three Choral Hymns : German hymn texts (two derived through Martin Luther) translated by Miles Coverdale, beginning “Alleluya. Christe is now rysen agayne,” “Now blessed be thou, Christ Jesu,” and “Come, holy Spirite, most blessed Lorde.”


Aside from this one drawback, this disc has my highest possible recommendation, and is a candidate for the 2010 Want List.


FANFARE: James A. Altena


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Recordings of Vaughan Williams' Mass in G minor don't come along that often--but with this new one, Naxos has two first-rate performances in its catalog, the other with the Elora Festival Singers. That's where the similarity between the two recordings ends, however--and that's a good thing. In fact, this disc is different from most Vaughan Williams choral programs due to its abundance of rarely-heard works.

The two more-familiar items--Valiant-for-truth and the Mass--are performed as well as you'll hear anywhere on disc; the challenging a cappella scoring in both--but especially in the very exposed textures of the Mass--allows us to fully appreciate this choir's ensemble unity and solid intonation. The Mass is among the faster-paced versions on disc, similar to our reference recording (Cedille), but Timothy Brown knows that slower can mean trouble in this work, and he moderates tempo where it counts, most importantly in the Agnus Dei.

Among the lesser-known works, The Voice out of the Whirlwind is one of those grand cathedral anthems with a busy organ accompaniment, fun for all to sing and play, while Nothing is here for tears (written on the death of King George V) is in the best tradition of this composer's unison-voice anthems whose lovely, easily singable hymn-like tunes and well-crafted organ parts are always appreciated by choral directors and choirs. In a completely different universe is the motet A Vision of Aeroplanes, a tour de force for choir and organ (especially for organ!) that sets words from the prophet Ezekiel (the one about the vision of the "wheel within a wheel..."). In the hands of organist James McVinnie and these exceptional singers, the whole fantastic picture comes vividly to life.

Perhaps best of all--and also among the rarely-heard pieces--are the Three Choral Hymns. Although the three-movement work was originally scored for orchestra, Brown and his choir offer what apparently is its first recording with organ accompaniment. It works well, and perhaps in this form it will draw broader attention and more performances.

The Mass always seems difficult to record, and that's true here, with some harshness in the loudest passages and occasional uneven balances between the two choirs and between the choir and quartet of soloists. It's not a big deal, just a peculiar phenomenon that may be related to the particular features of the work's scoring, harmonic structure, and voicing. I also have to mention that for a recording of choral music to come without printed texts, as is the case here (they are only available online), is not ideal, especially when the majority of texts will not be familiar to most listeners. That said, this is an excellent and much needed addition to the Vaughan Williams choral catalog, and fans of the composer will not want to be without it. Strongly recommended.

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Called “one of the irreplaceable music ensembles of our time” by Dana Gioia, past chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, VocalEssence is renowned for its innovative exploration of music for voices and instruments under the enthusiastic direction of Artistic Director and Founder Philip Brunelle. They now present a collection choral music from Minnesota's choral composers, singer-songwriters and the songs being sung by the people of Minnesota over the past 150 years.

Classical Music

After TE DEUM (900511), ARVO PÄRT – LIVE (900319) and MISERERE (900527), STABAT MATER is already the fourth album to emerge from the close artistic collaboration between the composer and the Bavarian Radio Chorus, and to be recently released by BR-KLASSIK. - In addition to the impressive STABAT MATER, this newly-released album offers some of the works that are key to the composer's stylistic development, and rarely appear in the concert repertoire or as recordings. Despite or perhaps precisely because of the radical reduction of its means of expression, Pärt's music demands the greatest care in its performance from those playing, and is masterfully realized in this recording by the Bavarian Radio Chorus and the Münchner Rundfunkorchester under the conductor Ivan Repušic. Like almost no other contemporary composer, the Estonian Arvo Pärt (born 1935) has succeeded in bringing sacred music back to the attention of a larger audience, even outside the church service. Because of its meditative character and its return to the simplest basic musical forms, his music gives us an insight into key spiritual moments. To this end, even before his emigration from the Soviet Union, Pärt invented what he referred to as the "tintinnabuli style" (Latin for “little bells”) of composing. In 1977 he delivered one of the first significant examples of this style with the first version of FRATRES (Brothers), which still has no fixed and prescribed instrumentation. In its ascetic austerity and almost liturgical solemnity, the work is reminiscent of a communal prayer or a spiritual act.

The astonishing variety of Bach’s cantatas is brilliantly illustrated by these CDs. Vol. 12 of Masaaki Suzuki’s ongoing cycle features a pair of extended, two-part cantatas: BWV 147, best-known for its lovely chorale (aka ‘Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring’), and BWV 21, described by Nicholas Anderson as having ‘a dramatic intensity hardly inferior... to that of the two great Passions’. Both cantatas have their origins in Bach’s Weimar period but are presented here in their later, Leipzig versions.

As is to be expected from Suzuki, the performances are meticulous and sensitive, and he brings out each cantata’s different emotional character with quiet authority. BWV 21 is particularly impressive, his team breathing vivid life into Bach’s portrayal of the Soul’s journey from darkest night to heavenly bliss. In contrast to this spiritual introspection, Philippe Herreweghe’s excellent disc features three cantatas Bach wrote for the annual inauguration of the Leipzig town council. This is public-event music, ablaze with ceremonial splendour: the earliest cantata, 1723’s BWV 119, begins with a French overture and is among the most richly scored of all the cantatas. The other two follow suit, jubilant choruses and brass fanfares proclaiming civic pride, though Bach takes care to balance this pomp with more delicate colours in the arias. Funeral music, yet another facet of the Cantor’s output, is explored on John Eliot Gardiner’s newly reissued 1989 recording. The deft vocal interweavings of the Actus tragicus and the Trauer Ode’s lavish salute to the Electress Christiane are adeptly handled by Gardiner, whose (relatively) small forces give the music a rapt, devotional air. In this company, Stephen Cleobury’s King’s College double seems lacklustre. The programme, which mixes major works with miniatures and extracts, is cluttered, the latter pieces merely distractions. Performances, while good, rarely match the precisely focused, sharply etched flair so evident on the Herreweghe and Suzuki discs. Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- BBC Music Magazine

Italy.

"•Grzegorz Gerwazy Gorczycki's (c. 1666-1734) Missa Rorate is a composition destined for vocal performance by soloists and four-part choir. • The work’s score, lacking all the vocal elements necessary for a High Mass, compelled the composer to furnish some original parts. Completorium is the last hour of the day, said before resting. • The Completorium is festive in nature, i.e. sung to close holiday celebrations. • The soloist and choir are accompanied by an instrumental ensemble, adding much splendor."

Classical Music

With their new album “Madrigals of Madness” the Calmus Ensemble presents a musical journey to 16th and 17th c. Europe with madrigals from Gibbons, Flecha, Monteverdi, Gesualdo and Desprez. This first CD of a promised future series of madrigal compilations about the different emotions pictured in the music is about the madness found in love, war, loneliness and lovesickness. The liner notes contain an interview with a psychiatrist about madness from a medical point of view. A striking blend of sound, precision, lightness and wit: these are the hallmarks of Calmus – a unique line-up of soprano, countertenor, tenor, baritone and bass voices – now one of the most successful vocal groups in Germany. The reach of their activities is constantly expanding, taking them throughout Europe as well as North and South America. They are naturally at home in the vocal music of the Renaissance, the Baroque and the Romantic, with music of our own time – including pop, folk and jazz, as well as chansons and evergreens from the 1920s – also a real passion. Over the years Calmus has commissioned numerous new works and given many world premieres.

The music of British composer Edmund Rubbra (1901-1986) has an unmistakable style. His sense of tonality, his frequent use of counterpoint, and his clever melodies set his works apart from those of his contemporaries. While he is most remembered for his orchestral compositions, Rubbra also wrote choral music consistently throughout his career. For this release, The Sixteen explores some of Rubbra’s lesser-known choral works such as his Tenebrae Nocturns and his Missa Cantuariensis. “…exceptional works by Edmund Rubbra… The performances are beautiful and brilliant.” (New York Times)

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REVIEW:

Harry Christophers and The Sixteen, with their signature balance and textual care, make articulate advocates for a composer who is much more than a late echo of Holst of Vaughan Williams.

­– Gramophone

Harry Christophers balances the soaring soprano solo of Julie Cooper caressingly against the ensemble singers, in a performance which achieves ecstasy without any element of overstatement. This is a disc which anybody remotely interested in Rubbra will want to purchase.

­– BBC Music Magazine

In 1962 in recognition 50th anniversary of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor's death, Sir Malcolm Sargent recorded his Songs of Hiawatha, considered a milestone in English choral music. Also included on this recording are the Symphonic Variations of Antonín Dvorák recorded in1959.

The famous Hilliard Ensemble presents a live tribute to the late fifteenth-century master composer Antoine Brumel, who was one of the most influential composers of his generation. This disc is the third of four live discs by The Hilliard Ensemble to be released on CORO. The first disc – Pérotin and the Ars Antiqua - has recently won a Diapason D’Or.

Goethe’s Faust exerted a powerful influence on Romantic composers, offering Robert Schumann a number of unforgettable scenes drawn mainly from the mystical second part of the epic poem which he incorporated into this immensely moving large-scale cantata. Opening with the first love scene between Gretchen and Faust and concluding with the climactic scene of Faust’s redemption, Schumann created a sweeping panorama of dramatic episodes with Mephistopheles’ trickery ultimately overcome as legions of celestial beings bear Faust’s soul to heaven.