This is, I believe,
the fifth disc by the Scottish-based
Dunedin Ensemble for the Scottish company
Delphian. They comprise six solo singers
and a choir of a further six. This CD
marks an unusual conception. It is all
explained in the slightly brief but
clear booklet essay by Ben Parry who
is the co-founder of the Dunedin Consort.
The idea was to ask
six Scottish-born or -based composers,
three men, three women, each to make
a setting of one of the movements of
the Mass. The pieces were to be for
unaccompanied voices partially or probably
in eight parts each based on a chant
suitable for the feast of All Saints
(November 1st). Things started
to gel as early as Christmas 1999. As
the project developed accretions became
necessary. Each composer was asked to
make a setting of a poem of their choice
which related in some way to their particular
section. This had to feature one of
the six singers, giving each a solo
number accompanied by the harp.
All Saints Day however
is also the Eve of All Souls Day when
we remember the dead and this falls
at such a dark time of the year (I write
this in mid-November) when we also remember
the dead of the Wars. It should not
be surprising for the listener to discover
that all of these many layers are a
part of this hour of spiritual reflection
and yet of uplift.
The pattern of the
CD is first the chant, then the Mass
setting followed by a song by one of
the composers, then the next chant etc.
The order is slightly varied in the
middle with the Mass setting and song
changing around. The notes point out
that the idea is not simply to present
the work as a concert item, which anyway
has been done several times, but to
perform the six mass movements as part
of the liturgy. At the time of writing
Ben Parry, a composer himself, says
that this has not been achieved.
On one quiet occasion
I programmed the CD just to play these
Mass sections. I was glad that I inserted
some plainchant (between the Gloria
and Creed, the Creed and the Sanctus
and between the Benedictus and Agnus)
just to add a little variety from the
rich harmonic textures. I was intrigued
to discover how homogeneous it all sounds
and, I would imagine, all by accident,
even as far as the similarly rising
phrases found in the Kyrie and the concluding
Agnus. Having said Although the music
is moving and ideal for liturgical performance
Tommy Fowler is not especially successful
in his somewhat frantic Creed setting
although as a virtuoso concert piece
it has its place. Anthea Haddow’s Benedictus
is almost, at times, Victorian in her
gluey harmonies. Most successful to
my ears is the clear form and searching
harmony of Malcolm Lindsay’s Kyrie,
which ending, as it does, somewhat in
mid-air, can either lead on very successfully
into Christine McCombe’s exciting Gloria
or, magically, into the falling harp
sounds of his setting of ‘Days of Thunder’.
The setting of the Agnus Dei by Rebecca
Rowe is moving and passionate. Its final
discord, left unresolved liturgically,
would make quite an impression. However
it is followed here, as an Epilogue,
by Haddow’s ‘Black over Red’ from a
setting of Anna Akhmatova written for
the Latvian Radio Choir. This is dedicated
to the victims of Stalin and concludes
the CD on the subject of remembrance
of the dead.
As another alternative
one could remove the mass and just perform
the six songs, and as each has a different
singer with harp the variety is quite
considerable.
The harp of course
is a diatonic instrument and any chromatic
notes have to be carefully thought out
by the composer. This dictates that
these songs are likewise almost entirely
diatonic, in fact often modal. Nevertheless
it is intriguing to see how each composer’s
originality can come through. In my
view some could have been a little more
adventurous harmonically. They tend
to resort to typical harp arpeggiated
figurations which I find disappointing.
Malcolm Lindsay opens the bowling straight
after his Kyrie with a very beautiful
‘Days of Thunder’. This setting is the
one that I have most played, being the
most penetrating in its text setting
and with a strong individuality.
‘La Muerta’, a setting
of Pablo Neruda, never rises above the
mundane which is surprising for such
a disturbing poem beginning ‘If suddenly
you do not exist,/ If suddenly you no
longer live’. There is very little in
the music that is questioning or stretches
the listener. Fortunately Anthea Haddow’s
final contribution at the end of the
CD ‘Black over Red’ is a fine and effective
work which brings the whole enterprise
to a suitable end.
The setting by Christine
MacCrumb of George Mackay Brown’s beautiful
poem ‘The Scottish Stone’ is most original
in its writing for the harp and very
sensitive to the text. It is also a
superb text for music, the whole endeavour
reminiscent of a fresh water Highland
stream in winter sunshine.
‘In Praise of Saints’,
to a text by the composer himself, John
Gormley, is a magical piece on the edge
of Celtic twilight. The beauty of the
harp writing takes precedence over the
lyrical memorability of the vocal line,
which is, not inappropriately, more
akin to plainchant. The same comments
could equally apply to ‘Prayer’ by Rebecca
Rowe who has taken an anonymous text
from a Chilean prayer book.
I cannot speak too
highly of the performers especially
the soloists Susan Hamilton and Libby
Crabtree sopranos, Kate Hamilton, alto,
Nicholas Mulroy tenor, Matthew Brook
baritone and Noel Mann, bass. This is
at times very challenging music which
they bring off, not just competently,
but with a strong passion and understanding.
This is ideally complemented by the
beautiful harp playing of Helen Thomson
who I only wish had been recorded a
little more prominently.
It is a strong and
very forward recording with a good sense
of the building and space around it.
Full texts and biographies
on the soloists and harpist are given.
Gary Higginson
The Dunedin Consort/Ben Parry 
