What is the point of compilations? Too often, it seems,
they are a way for record companies to repackage bits of the back-catalogue
and sell them several times over. At other times they come across as
being a way for people with no knowledge of serious music to own the
'famous tunes' or 'all-the-twiddly-bits' from some well-known works,
thereby ensuring that they never have to listen to the whole work or
do any actual thinking for themselves. This is a cynical view, but it
does tend to be the view of people who are seriously interested in recordings.
It is, presumably a view that Virgin were aware of before they embarked
on the compilation of this extensive set of sacred music recordings.
The title "1000 years of Sacred Music" avoids aiming low with the all-too-frequent
"1000-Best-Sacred-Tunes-Ever-In-the-World-Ever-Volume 330" and is actually
an accurate description of the contents, ranging as they do from Ambrosian
chant of no later than the 10th century up to Gorecki's Totus Tuus
written for the current Pope's first return visit to Warsaw in 1987.
As with all compilations the selected works do tend to be the famous
examples of their respective genres, but as an overview of Sacred music,
it would be hard to do otherwise. Further, it is obvious that those
famous examples do contain some of the most glorious musical outpourings
of the human soul, if that is not too pretentious a sentiment.
The policy for this compilation appears to have been
selecting complete works wherever possible and sizeable excerpts where
length precludes use of the entire piece. On the whole, this policy
is sensible, but it does favour the earlier (up to the renaissance)
repertoire, and that of the twentieth century rather more than is possible
with the classical or, especially, romantic repertoire. Curiously, this
same period of 18th and 19th century music is where the recordings chosen
are weakest. Someone at Virgin has it in for poor Marc-Antoine Charpentier;
the Academy of St Martin in the Fields and English Chamber Orchestra
performances of his great Te Deum and bits of the lovely Messe
de Minuit are now so old fashioned and stodgy as to be painful to
listen to. Similarly, the choir of Kings College, Cambridge, with the
former orchestra under David Willcocks, was fine in the late 1960s,
but their leaden Hallelujah chorus from Messiah is not an enjoyable
offering by today’s standards.
On the other hand some of the renaissance and 20th
century recordings are worth having in any format. The Quatre Motets
pour le temps de Noë l
by Poulenc are included entire in a wonderful performance by The Sixteen
under Harry Christophers. Blended, luminous and moving singing. The
last four works of the fifth and last disc (together making a good 25"
of singing) gather possibly the most influential quartet of late twentieth
century choral classics in one place. These performances, by Kings Cambridge
under Stephen Cleobury and the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir are
exciting and powerful performances. The latter group is here directed
by Tönu Kaljuste, who also steers the Swedish Radio Chorus most
impressively through two movements of Rachmaninov's great All Night
Vigil, better known as the Vespers. The performance makes this
writer want to buy the complete recording, and maybe that is another
positive aspect of compilations. One would normally discount all but
Russian groups singing such a work, but these Swedes disprove that notion.
In the early repertoire there is also much of value
and the distribution of repertoire into periods covering a whole disc
each negates much of the 'bleeding chunks' feel that is normally so
unfortunate an aspect of compilations. The earliest repertoire, on disc
1, is not necessarily well known, but the performances, after some pretty
dodgy chanting on the opening tracks (an unfortunate choice) are by
groups who are true specialists. The vast Alleluia Posuis Adjutorium
by Perotin (taking a full 9'24") is swept grandly on by the Studio
der frühen Musik under Thomas Binkley. This group was hugely influential
in the late 1970s and 1980s and their recordings of this very early
repertoire still take a lot of beating. On the second disc a couple
of large motets by Ockeghem and Josquin are performed by the Hilliard
Ensemble, and this writer firmly believes that there is not a better
group yet. Disc 2 ends with a complete Tallis Spem in Alium -
the famous motet in 40 parts and, again, the choice of performance by
Andrew Parrott and the Taverner Consort is a wise one. Theirs has always
been one of the best engineered recordings of this notoriously hard-to-capture
giant.
The middle two discs, of Baroque to Romantic music
include, as mentioned above, a number of unfortunately dated performances
and suffer from the greater frequency of bleeding chunks. There is also
a somewhat oppressive obsession with settings of the Requiem Mass. Mozart,
Cherubini, Brahms, Verdi, Fauré and Duruflé get the ‘final
farewell’ interspersed between sombre offerings from the Beethoven Missa
Solemnis, Rossini’s Stabat Mater, Gounod’s Messe Solennelle
and Rédemption by César Franck. It’s all a bit
too religious at once, and could easily have been leavened by a few
festive motets or the odd Gloria of a mass, rather than another
Agnus Dei. There is, however, a quintet of short treats amongst
the baroque offerings - unknown or little known works of the French
Baroque by Henry Du Mont, André Campra, Louis Clérambault,
Franç ois Couperin and Jean-Philippe
Rameau in lively period instrument performances. Placed one after another
they make an attractive group.
So much for the discs themselves. This collection has
one big ace up its sleeve that does move it from the ‘can’t-be-bothered-with-the-whole-work’
school of compilations to the ‘scholarly-overview’ format: a 26 page
booklet essay in 13 chapters and an extensive glossary of technical
terms. This is the work of one Adélaï
de de Place, translated by Hugh Graham. It is rare to see a CD booklet
given this much importance in the project and the quality and presentation
are both excellent. It reminds one of the old ‘Historical Anthology
of Music’ records from the 1950s in presenting a true overview and placing
the musical works into a clear historical perspective. None of the chapters
is overly long, but they cover areas as diverse as "Oral transmission
and birth of ‘Gregorian’ Chant"; "The Italian Renaissance";
"From Polyphony to the Grand Motet of Versailles"; "Germany,
from Schütz to Bach" ending with "The Twentieth Century".
Thus the booklet takes a slightly different methodological approach
to the discs, dividing principally by geographical or, in the era covering
the reformation, denominational regions. The whole essay is written
as a self standing unit, not making direct reference to the works on
the CDs, and thus the relationship is inverted - the discs serve to
illustrate the booklet, not the other way around. This was Virgin’s
wisest move. While not all of the recordings are particularly desirable,
the set as a whole has much to offer, and for any student of Western
music, of whatever age, will be a valuable resource in developing understanding
of traditions.
Peter Wells