Consolidated in a slipcase
Erato has reissued these outstanding
examples of Purcellian musicianship
recorded between 1976 and 1982. All
the LP equivalents have seen long service
on the shelves of collectors and their
new incarnation here with notes by Peter
Holman, who was of course responsible
for one or two touches of restoration
in The Tempest, makes them still desirable
acquisitions.
Of the four CDs the
most commanding and consistently stimulating
is that devoted to the music for Queen
Mary. Though the sound rather favours
the band over the choir all involved
conjoin in a splendid realisation of
Come, ye sons of art, one of Purcell’s
greatest Odes and here graced by Felicity
Lott, Thomas Allen and the counter-tenor
duo of Charles Brett and John Williams.
This is a recording that has easily
withstood the test of time – such anyway
as has elapsed – and I’d be happy to
recommend it as a library choice. That
is doubly the case when the Equale Brass
Ensemble joins the Monteverdi Choir
for the Funeral Music in a truly moving
and sympathetic reading.
Hail! Bright Cecilia
features different soloists but the
choir and the orchestra are once again
at their incisive and musical best.
I grew up with Charles Mackerras’s rather
Handelian recording of the Ode and it’s
one to which I still turn with admiration.
Gardiner’s aesthetic is of course different
and the musical results differ; his
opening chorus is inclined to be just
a touch affected and Hark each tree
must yield in expressive terms to Mackerras’s.
Soul of the world does sound
rather italicised and trifling after
Mackerras – though doubtless critical
judgement might urge one to consider
Gardiner’s more apposite forces – and
Wondrous Machine, here with David
Thomas, is more tripping than awed.
The Tempest may or
may not be by Purcell – only Dear
pretty Youth definitively is – but
the latest research regarding the possibility
that some or most of it was written
by his pupil John Weldon is as yet inconclusive.
The Italianate string and vocal writing
is certainly arresting – Corelli never
far away – and here the chorus and band
are on marvellous form; the articulation
is crisp, the dances vivacious and virtuosic
and in the final duet and chorus No
stars again shall hurt you genuinely
affecting. The Indian Queen also enjoys
captivatingly fresh involvement. As
with a number of these performances
the men are rather more invigorating
and evince a wider range of tone colour
than do the women but that’s of relatively
small account. The Act II What flattering
noise is this is guffaw inducing,
the chorus shine gloriously in I
come to sing and there’s real plangency
in Ye twice ten hundred deities –
solo singing and accompaniment equally.
I admired the oboe playing in the Act
III symphony and the boyish toned Rosemary
Hardy’s soprano air I attempt from
love’s sickness to fly. And then
most movingly of all there is the final
chorus, While thus we bow, which
reminds one of the final scene of Dido
and Aeneas in its overwhelmingly stark
simplicity.
The recordings always
sounded excellent, even given the slight
balance toward the two bands over the
chorus, and they do so still. These
are warmly impressive recordings and
a couple have been fixtures on my turntable
for many years. Strongly recommended.
Jonathan Woolf