Maybe reviewers fuss too much about couplings, but in this case, with the Prelude a l'apresmidi dun faune these days extending the timings of virtually every Debussy issue, and with nearly two decades separating it from the later Jeux and La boite a joujoux, as well as it not being a ballet—oh, all right: it may have been conceived for the stage, and was choreographed (and vulgarized) by Nijinsky in 1912—surely a more enterprising choice in keeping with the theme would have been the contemporary and unjustly neglected ballet Khamma. With the standard of performance on offer here, that would indeed have formed a cherishable disc. As it happens, Tilson Thomas's Prelude is very fine: richly drawn and, compared to the recent versions from Boulez (DG) and Solti (Decca), traditionally drawn out, long-breathed and languorous. Overloud horns in the fourth bar would seem to forecast fog, not heat-haze; in other respects the balance (from EMI's Abbey Road Studio No. 1) is good, with integrated but focused solo strings, harps and antique cymbals.

"Toy-boxes are really towns in which the toys live like people" wrote Andre Helle who, in 1913, devised the scenario for La boite a joujoux (adding "or perhaps towns are just boxes in which people live like toys"). But Debussy made no attempt at meaningful symbolism; "something to amuse the children—nothing more" he said. In giving life to the wooden figures, and with its prominent role for piano, inevitably one's thoughts turn to Petrushka, far more dramatically effective, but hardly a children's story—well, not a child of 1913 anyway. Tilson Thomas is more artful than Torteher on Chandos: in the first tableau his doll dances her waltz with more look-at-me' allure and grace—Tortelier's rubato is comparatively (perhaps aptly) mechanical—and, after Punch has biffed the little soldier on the nose, an angrier captain pops his head out of the box. On the debit side, a wooden doll surely wouldn't pray as quietly as does the LSO clarinet in the following tableau after the battle (track 4, 4'45": the marking is only piano); the distant shepherd's piping in the third tableau is not really distant at all, and the flutes are too loud at the moment of embrace between the soldier and the doll at the end of the scene. Whilst I'm grumbling, Sony's notes don't include a synopsis—as entertainment, this music, unlike Jeux, is dependent on knowledge of the stage action (Chandos supply a detailed scenario). If forced to make a choice between the two, it would be Tilson Thomas; his is the more polished, confident and stylish account.

Perhaps Debussy was attracted to the idea of a children's ballet in 1913 to cleanse himself from the sins of Nijinsky's staging of his Prelude and Jeux (May 1912 and 1913 respectively). While enthusiastically welcoming Simon Rattle's Jeux (EMI), CH noted that the music's free-born invention was "sacrificed a little in favour of a richer romanticism". It could be argued, too, that Haitink (Philips) achieves his unrivalled clarity and delicacy at the expense of a degree of passion. I happen to feel that both, more successfully than Tilson Thomas, and in their quite different ways, achieve a special fantasy, and that contrejour lighting which Debussy was aiming at in his orchestration to oversimplify, it's a question of ensuring equal prominence for the woodwind. The LSO strings are unsteady in their opening four-bar chord (unusually played here as two plus two), but there's a line of accumulating energy from the main theme at fig. 51 (12'29") through to the climax at fig. 71 (16'23") which is less easy to feel in Rattle's and Haitink's accounts. With a slightly faster basic tempo this Jeux bears out Tilson Thomas's judgement, as he himself put it in GRAMOPHONE in February 1991, in knowing "what to hold on to and what to throw away".

-- Gramophone [11/1992]

The well-known “classical” exception to the canon of ten Wagner works that can be performed on the Green Hill goes back to the master himself: it is of course Beethoven’s 9th Symphony. The most famous recording of one of the rare Bayreuth performances of the symphony is of the legendary concert that reopened the Bayreuth Festival after the war, in 1951, with Wilhelm Furtwangler on the rostrum. That recording was released for the first time, officially and uncut, by Orfeo in association with the Bayreuth Festival in 2008 (C754081). In 1954, Furtwangler conducted the Ninth a second time (ORFEO C851121). Much less well-known and issued here for the first time in a live recording is a performance conducted by Karl Böhm in 1963 to mark the 150th anniversary of Richard Wagner’s birth and the 80th anniversary of his death. Here we witness the emergence of a new musical generation.

-----

REVIEW:

While a distinct improvement on previous exhumations which have done the rounds, Orfeo's excellent new transfer from a Bavarian Radio source only serves to clarify how much Gundula Janowitz dominated her colleagues on this occasion, though they were all more seasoned Bayreuth performers. A significant release from an historical point of view.

– Gramophone

Track Listing
1. Well You Needn't
2. These Foolish Things
3. Star Eyes
4. Somewhere Over the Rainbow
5. Pent-up House
6. Blues in the Closet

Personnel: Chet Baker (trumpet); Bobby Jaspar (tenor saxophone, flute); Amadeo Tommasi (piano); Rene Thomas (guitar); Benoit Quersin (bass); Daniel Humair (drums).

Recorded in 1962. Includes liner notes by Ira Gitler.

Digitally remastered by Joe Lopes and Jay Newland (September 1991, BMG Recording Studios, New York, New York).

This is part of the Bluebird Records Masters of Jazz series.

Chet Baker's good looks and somewhat halting delivery made him seem the James Dean of jazz. However, behind the youthful charm and celebrity image of his early years, he was a musician who transcended such sub-genres as "bebop" or "cool." In fact, SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW is testament to the fact that Baker's musical output can't be easily pigeonholed.

On this 1962 release, we hear the legendary trumpeter on uptempo versions of "Blues in the Closet," the little-known but cleverly penned Oscar Pettiford tune, and an inventive version of Thelonious Monk's "Well You Needn't," where Baker slowly builds his solo until he explodes into a deluge of ascending and descending chromatic flourishes. Although Baker was much more than just a ballad player, intimate versions of "These Foolish Things" and the title track, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" add an air of dreaminess to one of Baker's most distinctive albums of the '60s.

This unusual album shows the contemporary trombone in a rich variety of guises – dramatic, lyrical, flirtatious, solemn, capricious and many more – in four recent concertante pieces for trombone and symphonic wind band, demonstrating the striking versatility of the instrument. It’s an international undertaking, too: the soloist is English, the band and conductor American, and the composers American, Danish, Dutch and English, all four writing in a language that is direct and immediate. Brett Baker is viewed internationally as a leading brass performer and educator. One of the most often recorded brass soloists, he is passionate about encouraging composers to write pioneering new repertoire. Brett is Programme Leader for Musical Arts at the University of Salford. He continues to be an ambassador for Michael Rath Brass Instruments and is Principal Trombone of the Black Dyke Band. He is Festival Director of both the Singapore and Thailand Low Brass Festivals and is a Past President of the British Trombone Society.

This new release from Chandos' early music label, Chaconne, focuses on Buxtehude's seven cantatas, collectively known as Membra Jesu nostri. These are among Buxtehude's best-known works, and perfectly exemplify the seventeenth-century preference for musical structures that are broadly symmetrical, but subtly varied in detail. Each of the seven cantatas has roughly the same shape: Biblical passages are set for the whole ensemble and enclose stanzas from the mediaeval poem Rhythmica oratio, which are set as arias for reduced vocal forces and interspersed with instrumental ritornelli.

Buxtehude's Membra Jesu nostri takes the form of a sequence of seven meditations on the crucified body of Jesus, beginning with the feet ('Ad pedes'), followed by the knees ('Ad genua'), the hands ('Ad manus'), the side ('Ad latus'), the breast ('Ad pectus'), the heart ('Ad cor'), and the face ('Ad faciem'). As such, the work is written from the perspective of a penitent kneeling at the foot of the cross and gradually extending his gaze upwards, meditating on each part of the body in turn. The keys chosen for the cantatas seem to have added symbolic meaning. As the gaze rises, they move from flats to sharps, from C minor to E minor, before finally returning to the opening key to produce a beautifully unified cycle. On this release the cantata cycle is complemented by Matthias Weckmann's Kommet her zu mir alle, a setting of the words from St Matthew's Gospel (11: 28 - 30), in which the composer gives the words of Jesus to a virtuoso bass singer with an impressive range of nearly two octaves, a part here performed by Peter Harvey, and provides him with an accompaniment of two violins, three bass viols, and continuo.

The works on this disc are performed by an excellent ensemble of early music specialists. As exclusive artists, The Purcell Quartet is today popularizing the cantatas of Buxtehude in concerts and recordings involving a fabulous quartet of soloists - Emma Kirkby,Michael Chance, Charles Daniels, and Peter Harvey - to which, for the occasion, the group is joined by the soprano Elin Monahan Thomas. The Quartet has also recorded a huge range of music exclusively for Chandos, including works by Purcell, Corelli, Lawes, Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, Weckmann, Buxtehude, Leclair, Schütz, Couperin, and Biber, to outstanding critical and public acclaim. The early music specialists Fretwork, the viol ensemble, also performs on this recording.

GERSHWIN: RHAPSODY IN BLUE, AN

CDCM Computer Music Series, Vol. 1

This recording, explain the liner notes, attempts to give the listener an authentic version of what the 13th-century listener heard in a church when this anonymous play was performed, and it succeeds with panache. The combination of Gregorian chant, declamations, and vocal solos, accompanied by lute and instrumental solos, is performed by the Mittelalter-Ensemble der Schola Cantorum Basiliensis with great fervor.
What is especially unexpected and exciting to the listener is that the songs are punctuated by exclamations, cries, and laughter. For example, "Lazarus, amicus noster dormit" starts out with a solo melody on a shawm (or a similar wind instrument), which is then picked up vocally in a repetitive, almost magical fashion, with an echo-laden crescendo. The overlay of sound is mysterious and very evocative. After a soft baritone solo, the melody is recapitulated. Then there is a sudden shriek--it is quite dramatic--and the number finishes. At this point it would have been wonderful to have a libretto of sorts to be able to follow the words closely.
This artistic reconstruction of the Carmina Burana makes more serious chant music available to the listener.

An eminently stylish performance, filled with joy from the first ray of light to the final thanks to the Lord, ranking with the best of period-instrument Creations.

Is there any other work that so consistently inspires its performers as Haydn’s The Creation? One hears performances by amateurs that sparkle with truth, and every professional one seems glorious. This recording is studded with little-known performer names, but that is no handicap. This is a happy, cosy Creation, a conception that might raise some eyebrows; it triumphs because it is spectacularly well performed. Thomas Hengelbrock, music director of the Vienna Volksoper, created the Balthasar-Neumann Choir in 1991 and the Ensemble in 1995, choosing performers with whom he had already enjoyed working. Their repertoire stretches from Monteverdi to the 21st century, but they sound as if they were created just to play and sing Haydn’s masterpiece. The chorus is 8/7/7/6, strings are 6/5/4/4/2 (double basses). This strikes me as just the right size, enabling a balance of power with clarity. The deep, gutsy opening chord of “Chaos” leaves no doubt that the ensemble has enough punch; attacks are Toscanini-crisp, winds are brightly colored, climaxes thunder with clamorous trumpets and hard-struck drums. The chorus is superb.

Soprano Simone Kermes is quite wonderful, her soft, warm tones making Haydn’s high coloratura sound easy and natural, while never stepping out of character or resorting to exaggeration. Her pitch is secure and reliable, her phrasing delightful, her embellishments a joy. She immediately joins my short list of favorite sopranos. In my recall, only Barbara Bonney has sung such a superb Gabriel. Bass Johannes Mannov is in the same league, his ringing voice immensely appealing, his singing impeccable; a single shaky entrance keeps him from perfection. Tenor Steve Davislim is merely excellent. This trio of happy, relaxed seraphim is angelic indeed. Adam and Eve are also fine, if not quite so heavenly. A beautiful, subtly played fortepiano supports the recitatives.

In short, this is an eminently stylish performance, filled with joy from the first ray of light to the final thanks to the Lord. Tempos are never rushed, and the 99-minute total assures that nothing ever drags. The recording is exceptionally natural, sweet and focused during quiet moments and opening up nicely for the climaxes. This ranks with the best of period-instrument Creations.

-- James H. North, FANFARE [3/2004]

Patrick Hawes has quickly established himself as one of the UKs leading composers, writing in a personal and thoroughly English style that has endeared him to the listening public. This new disc of choral and organ works centers on the mystery and beauty of the words of the Old Testament with stunning performances from Welsh soprano Elin Manahan Thoms, alongside Patricks own choral group Conventus and the English Chamber Orchesta.

}Gramophone (2/97, p. 80) - "Here is a glittering centenary tribute to Cuba's King of Charmers....the performances are irreproachable and BIS's presentation and recording are vivid and enthralling..."{

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Howard Hanson wrote most of the solo piano music on this disc early in his career, before he became the first American to win the Prix de Rome in 1921, and before his forty-year tenure as director of the Eastman School of Music. Though he later focused on orchestral writing in emulation of Respighi, his teacher in Rome, Hanson's piano music intimately defines the romantic and popular character of his work. Hanson's music is emotionally yearning, tuneful Americana.
Critically acclaimed American pianist Thomas Labé has researched Hanson's music extensively, which was necessary, as many of Hanson's scores are unpublished. His labor informs his virtuosic playing with keen insight in these performances, five out of eight of which are world premiere recordings.

FRANZ SCHUBERT Swedish Chamber Orchestra, Orebro/Thomas Dausgaard FRANZ SCHUBERT: Symphonny No. 8 in B minor, 'Unfinished', D759; symphony No. 9 in C major, 'Great', D944.

This CD is the continuation of viola d’amore specialist Thomas Georgi’s The Stockholm Sonatas I (BIS-CD-1535), resurrecting the neglected music of Attilio Ariosti. The first volume consisted of the music published by Ariosti in London as a set of ‘Lessons for the Viola d’Amour’. The works were preserved in Stockholm in a manuscript entitled ‘Receuil de Pièces’ and copied by the Swedish composer Johan Helmich Roman in the late 1710s during his studies in London. Based on the Stockholm manuscript, Georgi has made his own edition of the works. This recording comprises the first 7 of the 15 ‘sonatas’ contained in the Receuil, leaving the remainder for a final, third volume in the series.

Highly regarded by his contemporaries as a singer, organist, cellist and dramatist, Ariosti has been more or less forgotten for more than two centuries. In his liner notes Georgi underlines Ariosti’s “remarkable twists of harmony, his witty way with silence as well as with notes, his preference for juxtaposition of contrasting material over development of a single idea”; wondering if these qualities would have found him “as wide an audience as Corelli’s”, had the viola d’amore remained popular as an instrument. As on the first disc, Georgi is joined by lutenist Lucas Harris, and this time by different cellist, Mime Yamahiro Brinkmann, another product of that excellent Early Music Department at my place of work, the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague.

Thomas Georgi has used the title ‘Sonata’ for these works even though the word is never used in the manuscript source. “They sound like sonatas to me” is his almost belligerent declaration, and I admire his pioneering spirit in cutting through a potential quagmire of nomenclatural red tape. His expertise and scholarly research mean that his treatment of embellishments in this music is based on the historical examples of contemporary performers. Citing Corelli as a model, the scores are taken as a framework from which a player of the time would have used partially as a springboard on which their own technical and expressive abilities would have had a significant effect with regard to the final result. In his review of the fist disc of this series, Gary Higginson describes these works as ‘second-rate music’ – in which I would agree that they don’t really plumb great emotional depths to our modern ears. For the purpose that they were no doubt intended they are however ‘first-rate’, as your gigging reviewer can confirm. A composer writing to satisfy players and a mixed audience walks a narrow line between being over-demanding and dull. Ariosti is neither of these things, providing plenty of interesting music for all of the musicians involved, enough wow factor and variety to keep the elderly aunts and uncles awake in the front row, and keeping enough in reserve not to annoy the wealthy patrons at the back who are having a boozy chat through the whole thing. The handkerchief waving bewigged gentry of the time swooned hopelessly at anything too dissonant in any case, so Ariosti knew exactly what he was doing with these works.

Thomas Georgi’s Viola d’amore has an ‘alto’ pitch range, but while the general tessitura is lower than a violin, the colour is in fact quite bright. The strings have a thicker, more throaty texture in tone, but the overall effect is highly attractive, and the balance between violoncello and lute, the glue which links the two, is nicely struck. I note that these have been recorded in a different acoustic to volume one, but Bis’s reliably wonderful recording techniques have created another winning balance between close detail and spaciousness. It may well be that the CDs from this series end up being used as background music to chic dinners, but now all those embarrassing pauses can be filled with at least one sensible question: “…mmm, I like this music, what is it?”

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

In 2002 we released the first recording of Karl Weigl's (1881-1949) Fifth Symphony, subtitled 'The Apocalyptic' and dedicated it to the memory of Franklin Roosevelt. Completed in the last year of the Second World War, it is a programmatic work describing the world hovering on the brink of total destruction - a very natural way of seeing things for an Austrian refugee of Jewish decent living in the US during that troubled time. But there was more than the destiny of his beloved Vienna that occupied Weigl. He was very much part of an old central-European tradition, the tradition of Brahms, Bruckner, and Mahler, which - as he must have realized - was threatened by whatever the outcome of the war. Described by his fellow student Schoenberg as 'one of the best composers of the old school, one of those who continued the glittering Viennese tradition', Weigl in one of the first works written after his flight to the US in 1938, celebrates one aspect of his native city: the waltzes of the Strauss family. In 'Old Vienna' we get a rhapsody of Vienna-style waltzes, executed with the affection - and nostalgia - of someone who had been present at the time. (Weigl was a regular guest at the soirées of Adèle Strauss, widow of Johann Strauss II, in whose home he met his first wife.) Compared to this work and to the Apocalyptic Symphony, the 'Sixth Symphony', composed eight years later and Weigl's last major work, is a piece of absolute music. But here too, in the music itself, is a testament to the tradition that for political and aesthetic reasons had already become a memory in the old world that had fostered it. Neither of the works was performed in the composer's lifetime, and in fact the Symphony had to wait until the present recording. The previous Weigl release on BIS (CD1077) was greeted with a 2003 Cannes Classical Award and great acclaim by reviewers who called Weigl 'a fascinating voice' and 'a major discovery' while naming the performances, by the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra and Tomas Sanderling, 'exceptional' and 'committed'. The ones on the present disc - on which conductor Alun Francis also appears - certainly are no less!

ARIOSTI “Stockholm” Sonatas: No. 15 in f; No. 16 in G; No. 17 in B?; No. 18 in d; No. 19 in a; No. 20 in g; No. 21 in a. Pur alfin gentil viola 1 • Thomas Georgi (vda); Lucas Harris (lt, gtr); Mime Yamahiro Brinkmann (vdg); Emma Kirkby (sop) 1 (period instruments) • BIS 1675 (63:57 Text and Translation)


Attilio Malachia Ariosti (1666–1729) led an amazingly varied life, one that could only have played out amid the opulence of the Baroque era. He started out as an altar boy in Bologna and later took monastic vows, possibly also entering the priesthood. All along he assiduously pursued his musical studies, eventually assuming the post of organist at the basilica of Santa Maria dei Servi. There he attracted the attention of the Duke of Mantua, for whom he began composing operas. Ariosti’s first opera, Tirsi (1697), was such a success that the Duke was encouraged to lend him out to the Berlin court, whose ruler was Sophie Charlotte of Hanover, Electress of Brandenburg and sister of the future George I of England. Ariosti quickly became Sophie’s favorite court musician (Bononcini was employed at the court as well), and became friends with the great Gottfried Leibniz. After Sophie died in 1705, Ariosti declared his (reluctant) desire to return to his monastery, by way of Vienna. The Vienna sojourn at the court of Joseph I stretched to seven years, where he composed operas, oratorios, and cantatas. After Joseph’s widow, Wilhelmina, kicked him out of Vienna (for his ostentatious, non-ecclesiastical behavior) in 1711, Ariosti found employment at the court of the Duke of Anjou (the future Louis XV), in Munich, Württemberg, Durlach, Baden, Lorraine, and at the court of the Duke of Orléans. In 1716 Ariosti sailed for England, where his opera Almahide had been staged in 1708, albeit with two-thirds of the numbers replaced by arias of Bononcini. Ariosti’s first appearance on the London stage was on July 12, 1716, when he played his “New Symphony … upon a New Instrument call’d Viola D’Amour,” between the acts of a Handel opera. Subsequently, the Royal Academy was to commission several operas, but Ariosti was still preoccupied with his diplomatic intrigues and had trouble meeting the deadlines; only one of the operas, Caio Marzio Coriolana (1723), was an unmitigated success, thanks in part to the participation of Cuzzoni and Senesino.


Exactly 21 viola d’amore sonatas survive from the pen of Ariosti; 15 of them owe their existence to Ariosti’s contemporary Swedish musician Johan Helmich Roman, who copied them down while on a visit to London. These survive in manuscript form in a Swedish library, hence the designation. The concluding cantata, Pur alfin gentil viola , is a valedictory work that survives in manuscript in a Darmstadt library. Written in an idiom reminiscent of Handel, the sonatas are remarkable for their brevity. Most movements are less than two minutes; only two of the Adagios are more than three. The structure is usually simple bipartite: AABB, or even ABa (the lower case indicating a brief restatement of the opening theme). The suites typically consist of four movements, in the traditional slow-fast-slow-fast grouping of the Italian sonata da chiesa.


The viola d’amore is one of those colorful “accessory” instruments so popular with Baroque composers. Played under the chin like the violin, it has six or seven sympathetic strings running under the fingerboard that are responsible for the instrument’s characteristic silvery sound. Like the oboe d’amore and the voice flute, the viola d’amore was newly invented; it came into use during the second half of the 17th century, but never became a permanent member of the orchestra. Bach, Telemann, Vivaldi, and Quantz wrote sparingly for the viola d’amore, but it dropped out of sight during the Romantic era. Surprisingly, the instrument has persisted until the present day; composers as diverse as Strauss, Janá?ek, Hindemith, Martin, and Villa-Lobos have been attracted to its gentle, ethereal sound.


Thomas Georgi is an American who performed with the Queensland Symphony Orchestra of Australia for many years, and since 1989 has been a member of the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra of Toronto. After joining that group he began to champion the viola d’amore, and has recorded two previous volumes of Ariosti for BIS. Apparently those CDs were never received by Fanfare for review. Georgi is joined by two excellent instrumentalists, lutenist Lucas Harris and gambist Mimi Yamahiro Brinkmann, and the renowned English soprano Dame Emma Kirkby. The performances are models of their kind, with colorful, expressive playing from Georgi, and first-rate contributions from the two continuo players. I applaud the decision to employ archlute (theorbo) and guitar as continuo instruments; a harpsichord would have overwhelmed the delicate sound of the viola d’amore. Of particular interest is the cantata—it demonstrates that Dame Emma’s voice is as beautiful and controlled as ever, even after nearly 40 years before the public.


When the pressures and madness of modern life press in, I can think of nothing better than to retreat into the delicate sound world of Ariosti for rejuvenation. Highly recommended.


FANFARE: Christopher Brodersen

Classical Music

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

This is a first rate collection of some of Vaughan Williams' best choral works, both a cappella and with organ accompaniment. Fans of this composer definitely will want to have this disc, whose main attraction is the rarely recorded Mass in G minor. Why this stark and very moving work has received such scant attention on disc is a mystery, but it remains a unique and timeless masterpiece whose bold, bare harmonies and unadorned, chant-like melodies invoke the atmosphere of ancient worship while serving as a kind of musical embodiment of the imposing cathedral structures and spaces in which that worship took place. A good performance of this piece for a cappella double choir and a quartet of soloists first demands excellent singers and an ensemble that's well-balanced and especially solid on the bass end. The nature of the writing, including modal melodies and harmony, parallel fifths, and wide-spaced voicings, gives even the best choirs "intonational" fits; pacing is extremely important in order to keep key, dense-textured sections from bogging down.


None of these challenges proves troublesome at all for the Elora Festival Singers, which during the past 20 years has become one of Canada's--and the world's--finest choirs. Director Noel Edison obviously cares about balances and clarity of line, and also shows concern for his singers (and listeners) by maintaining sensible, effective tempos. However, in one significant place, the crucial, final Agnus Dei movement, I found Edison's tempo just too fast to allow the layers of vocal lines to build sufficient tension and create the energy to achieve the intended, truly powerful climax. Nevertheless, you never get the sense that Edison gets any less than he asks for, especially since the other works on the program are performed with equal intensity and technical confidence. (In the mass, he's also got a terrific quartet of soloists, who not only deliver the notes and maintain the mood in their individual passages, but also make a well-matched ensemble.) It's a real treat to hear the motets sung so well (just listen to that lovely opening to Lord, Thou hast been our refuge, and to the shimmering, jazzy dissonances in the Prayer to the Father of Heaven), and the setting of the beautiful hymn Come down, O Love divine (Down Ampney) makes an appropriate close, a tribute to this composer's immeasurable contribution to the English hymn repertoire. Placing O vos omnes immediately before the mass allows us to easily hear the similarities between these two compositions, written around the same time.


Now, for the slightly bad news: the recording levels make trouble for full enjoyment of these inherently full-bodied, rich-textured works. True, the acoustics of Toronto's illustrious Church of St. Mary Magdalene are somewhat tricky to tame, but if you adjust the volume high enough to comfortably hear softer passages--the beginning of the motet Lord, Thou hast been our refuge, for instance--the louder sections (the entrance of the organ and the work's conclusion), are just too loud. This is true for the mass as well; it seems that the engineers decided that a more distant listening perspective was preferable to a closer one that would have posed its own balance problems. Nevertheless, I eventually was able to find a satisfying middle ground that my ears quickly adjusted to, allowing me to put aside my sonic concerns enough to devote several more hours to this one disc. And I will certainly return to it again, because the performances are that good.
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Chatman, S.: Due East