To have two special
Christmas discs in one year is a treat.
The Kings Singers on Signum SIGCD502
provided warm fireside glows aplenty;
here on the Gimell side of the fence,
the Tallis Scholars provide a carefully-planned
feast of carols, plainchant and polyphony.
Both should be on your Christmas present
shopping list as they complement each
other perfectly and largely avoid duplication
(although you may find it difficult
to give either product away should the
discs ‘find their way’ to your machine
first!).
The Gimell twofer is
predominantly a devotional Christmas
offering culled from four previous,
separate releases. Each disc closes
with a major Mass setting (Clemens non
Papa on Disc 1, Tallis on Disc 2). Medieval
Carols, German Chorales and Ave Maria
settings balance the Flemish mass of
Clemens, while Salisbury Chant (including
the substantial Missa in gallicantu)
shares disc space with the Tallis’ Missa
Puer natus est nobis. Reatailing
at £12 (a mere six pounds per disc),
it would appear this is a gift for the
purchaser, as well!.
It is interesting to
experience the various well-known pieces
in a ‘serious’ liturgical context. The
performance standard of whatever genre
is unremittingly superb. The compilation
starts with the sprung rhythms of a
Medieval Carol, Angelus ad virginem,
leading to the (period) joy of Nowell
sing we and the beautifully balanced
and poised There is no rose.
If perhaps the recording should have
slightly more space for Lulla, lulla,
thou tiny little child, the Tallis
Scholars bring out the emotive contrast
of the ‘Herod verse’ (‘Herod, the king/In
his raging/ …’) perfectly, raising a
pretty carol to the level of a more
substantial musical statement.
A fascinating idea
to juxtapose four settings of the Ave
Maria. It is impossible to grade them
in terms of quality – they each have
their own magic. Josquin’s is a beautiful,
slow unfolding of polyphonic wonder
that exudes calm and serenity; Verdelot’s
harmonic mastery makes his offering
seem entirely natural while the Victoria
offerings (one only attrib. Victoria)
point towards this Spanish composer’s
mystic side. The German Chorales provide
almost light relief before the substantial
Mass offering. They have a warm glow
(try ‘In dulci jubilo’), but it is perhaps
M. Praetorius’ ‘Es ist ein Ros’ that
provides the highlight.
The Clemens setting
of Pastores quidnam vidistis
that precedes the Mass proper exemplifies
the Tallis Scholars’ strength in this
music. Despite the musical complexity,
textures are miraculously clarified.
To walk the line between the overall
choral sound and the maintenance of
integrity of lines is difficult indeed,
and it is a challenge that the Tallis
Scholars evidently feed on with enthusiasm.
But none of this really prepares the
listener for the revelatory performance
of the Clemens mass, characterised by
extreme beauty. Listen, for example,
to the restrained statements of ‘Laudamus
te’ (‘We praise you’), full of the utmost
veneration, or the shifting textures
of the ‘Sanctus’. This account of Clemens
non Papa’s mass seems the perfect way
to end the first disc.
The second disc concentrates
more on plainchant and music based on
it. In fact it begins with a complete
mass in plainsong, the first Mass of
Christmas, Missa in gallicantu
(‘in gallicantu’ = ‘at cockcrow’: the
mass would have taken place at dawn).
This is tremendously restful music.
In the best sense of the expression,
this seems to go on forever – and one
wishes fervently it would, indeed, never
end. The Missa in gallicantu
takes up the first fourteen tracks of
the second disc. No (aural) warning
is given of the bell in the Sequentia,
‘Nato canunt omnia’ (track 7: it is
in fairness mentioned in the booklet
note, possibly for those with weaker
hearts). Suffice it to say that should
you be nodding at this point (perish
the thought), nod you will no longer.
The bell is played by none other than
the noted musical authority Ivan Moody.
The alternating tenors of the Lesson
(from the Book of Isaiah - one voice
has the text while the other inserts
the trope) is most tastefully done,
the voices nicely separated in the acoustic
space as well as being timbrally contrasted.
To complement the Mass,
the Tallis Scholars present four hymns
for the Offices of Christmas Day (one
each, in order, from Matins, Vespers,
Compline and Lauds). True, in an isolated
hearing and purely musically one would
never associate these explicitly with
Christmas, yet they do form the perfect
foil for Tallis’ Tudor polyphony in
his Missa Puer natus (completed
here by David Wulstan and Sally Dunkley),
based on the Christmas plainchant of
that name. Possibly composed in honour
of the visit of Philip II of Spain to
England in 1554, it is one of Tallis’
most impressive compositions, a veritable
compendium of compositional techniques
old and new at this time. There is no
Kyrie (it was not considered part of
the Ordinary at this time in England).
The Tallis Scholars realise the work’s
importance and lavish their customary
care on it. After the monophonic Christmas
hymns, the opening of the Mass appears
as a long-awaited blossoming. The work
is 24 minutes of pure magic – one can
only listen, jaw agape, at Tallis’ mastery.
The recording again allows for Tallis’
textures, so that even at their most
complex the whole is never ‘crowded’.
A final note on the
cover, which reproduces a detail from
one of the (to my mind) greatest of
Florentine Renaissance artists, Fra
Angelico (c1400-1455). Although born
in Tuscany, the convent of San Marco
in Florence holds the greatest of his
treasures. The painting used by Gimell
is, aptly enough, ‘The Adoration of
the Magi’ (c1445). The whole magnificent
work of art can be seen on the web at
http://www.kfki.hu/~arthp/html/a/angelico/
(click on the relevant thumbnail for
a screen-sized experience; or alternatively
but possibly less realistically go to
the National Gallery of Art in Washington,
USA).
Thanks are due to Gimell
for a very rewarding and often intensely
beautiful Christmas experience.
Colin Clarke