The Cardinall’s Musick have recorded
more of Byrd’s unaccompanied Latin motets
than any other group in history. This
is the tenth volume of their Byrd Edition
begun in 1996. The previous volumes
appeared on ASV Gaudeamus. The present
CD is the first of the Byrd Edition
on Hyperion. A fairly seamless change
as the approach is the same: one voice
per part; mixed voices as there’s evidence
were used in clandestine Catholic worship;
and the same authentic location where
such worship would have taken place,
the Fitzalan Chapel founded in 1390
at Arundel Castle. That it has a lovely
acoustic, both intimate and airy but
not over-reverberant, is more significant.
There’s a photograph in the CD booklet
of five singers recording at the altar,
a little besieged by microphones. Photographs
on the Arundel Castle website give more
of a perspective of the chapel and its
roof.
This CD contains the first seven motets
from Byrd’s Cantiones sacrae published
in 1591. In the heading these are identified
after the titles as CS followed by their
numbering in the original and modern
editions. The numbering incorporates
the dividing of most motets into two
sections. Laudibus in sanctis,
although so divided, is really in three
sections, the real second section beginning
at ‘Magnificum Domini’ (tr. 16 1:00)
and the third, called the second, at
‘Hunc arguta’ (2:21). The other items
on the CD are from the Gradualia
published in 1605. First I shall review
the Cantiones sacrae in their
1591 order.
Laudibus in sanctis is fittingly
showcased by Hyperion as a title for
this volume. It was the piece chosen
to open the 1591 publication and to
close this CD. It’s by far the best
known item here and the only one for
which there are several recordings.
But there’s only one other presenting
with one voice per part, I Fagiolini
recorded in 1996 (Chandos CHAN 0609).
Their pacier approach, a timing of 4:55
in comparison with The Cardinall’s Musick’s
5:44, emphasises the work’s lilting,
madrigalian qualities and that Latin
verse, Psalm 150 in sonnet form, is
being sung. In the final section they
are more sensitive to the contrast of
‘cymbala laudes’ and ‘cymbala dulce’
where The Cardinall’s Musick (tr. 1
3:11) concentrate on rhythmic projection
with less contrast in dynamic and tone.
Overall though the performance by The
Cardinall’s Musick’s is more impressive.
It has more edge and the closer recording
has more immediacy. There’s a sense
of a compulsion to proclaim while the
use of madrigalian features is still
clear. So the sheer power of the imitation
is relished at ‘cantet tuba’ (1:12)
in depicting the sound of the trumpet.
On the other hand, still in high tessitura,
smoother imitation is found at ‘Alta
sacri’ before a lusty climax at ‘laude
Dei’. The suddenly snappier rhythms
at ‘laeta chorea perde’ (2:46) spring
into dance. The closing 16th
century version of the Hallelujah chorus
from 4:13 is of glowing cascades of
counterpoint before the regal broadening
out, with never a trace of stodginess,
at ‘tempus in omne Deo’ (4:46). This
is a big piece which on paper looks
best suited to larger forces, but The
Cardinall’s Musick has sufficient fervour
and sonority to convince you that its
power is in no way compromised while
it’s clearer how its effects are achieved.
Demonstration stuff.
Quis est homo is much less known.
Indeed this is its first published recording.
But it too is a fascinating example
of the variation of straightforward
and elaborate motifs and rhythms to
express the text from Psalm 34. I’ll
use the more familiar Anglican numbering
throughout this review. The imitative
entries of ‘diligit dies’ (tr. 2 0:28)
are a serene picture of plenty. Then
comes the warning ‘Prohibe linguam tuam’
from 0:59, ‘ keep your tongue from evil’,
soon illustrated with ‘et labila tua’
at 1:37, a fluent stream of deceit from
the five voices in turn, the rhythm
becoming more ornate for the climactic
‘ne loquantur dolum’ from 1:45. The
second section, ‘Diverte a malo’ (2:29)
begins as a sustained, balmy exhortation
but soon becomes very active in picturing
doing good. Then again a somewhat more
sustained, yet still smooth, line cuts
across this activity to provide a vivid
picture of the Lord watching ‘over the
righteous’, ‘super iustos’, from 3:57.
Fac cum servo tuo has only been
recorded once before, by New College
Oxford Choir/Edward Higginbottom (CRD
3439 published 1986). The Cardinall’s
Musick performance is far more effective
because of Carwood’s more measured tempo,
a total timing of 4:41 against Higginbottom’s
3:23. The New College account presents
the piece in lightly rhythmic, rather
clipped fashion with arid objective
effect, almost as if the voices are
simply displaying an exercise in counterpoint.
Carwood fully realizes it as a prayer.
Almost from the start (tr. 3 0:05) the
solo voices, an advantage, linger on
the personal nature of ‘servo tuo’,
‘your servant’, elaborated in
melismata, several notes for the first
syllable of ‘tuo’, from 0:12. This elaboration
is then allied to the optimistic rising
figure at ‘misericordiam tuam’, ‘your
mercy’, from 0:40. A gentle beacon of
a request, ‘doce me’, ‘teach me’, follows
from 2:04. The counterpoint in this
performance becomes expressively, even
lovingly, flowing at ‘servus tuus ego
sum’, ‘I am your servant’, presented
in turn from 2:24 by upper, lower and
all voices before the mood lightens
even as the counterpoint becomes more
finely ornate at 3:02 with ‘da mihi
intellectum’, the plea for understanding
which is the core of this setting from
Psalm 119. This gently glowing account
has a wonderfully luminous quality.
To Salve regina, the Marian antiphon
from Trinity to Advent: Carwood brings
more urgency and pace right from the
opening for three voices. Just here
I prefer The Sarum Consort/Andrew Mackay
(ASV Quicksilva CDQS 6211 recorded in
1996). The comparative overall timings:
Carwood 7:07, Mackay 9:29. The latter’s
slower opening reveals more homage,
contemplation and sense of the mystery
of Mary. It also more readily evokes
Byrd’s use of an old-fashioned style
at this point. But Carwood’s recording
is more immediate, articulation of the
text is clearer and, once all five voices
enter at ‘Ad te clamamus’ (tr. 9 0:53),
his greater edge is more effective.
This is partly because Mackay begins
with one voice per part then uses chamber
choir, the outcome of which appears
to be that he feels he needs to mute
the expression somewhat, smoothing it
out when there are more voices, so the
effect is somewhat evocative of an incense-filled
haze. On the other hand Carwood might
claim his approach has remained consistent
and Byrd’s technique in clarifying the
key elements of the text is vividly
demonstrated. You hear ‘exiles filii’
from 0:58 emerging from within the texture
in all five parts in turn, emphasising
the emotional core for Catholics that
they were exiles. Also beginning quietly
in one part to be taken up gradually
more boldly by others are from 1:50
‘in hac lacrimarum valle’, ‘in this
vale of tears’, and from 3:13 the plea
‘ad nos converte’, ‘turn to us’.
For the second section of the antiphon,
‘Et Iesum benedictum’ (3:55), Carwood
has the insight to calm things down
a little, reflecting its greater hope
explained by the repetitions of ‘nobis
post hoc exilium ostende’ which affirm
that the exile is only temporary. Then
he displays supple expressiveness of
appeal at ‘O clemens’ (5:16) which gives
way to adoring chains of ‘O dulcis Virgo’
from 5:40 and richly decorated focus
on ‘Maria’ from 6:32. The mantra is
thereby burnt into your brain.
Tribulatio proxima est uses verses
from Psalms 22 and 70 to set in ancient
context the emotions of the Catholic
community in the reign of Elizabeth
I. The opening section, realized by
Carwood as a dense tapestry of mental
turmoil, often repeats through the parts
(from tr. 2 0:52) the phrase ‘defensor
vitae’, the Lord being the only ‘defender
of life’. From this emerges the plea
from 1:34, ‘vindica me’, ‘avenge me’.
The second section, ‘Contumelias et
terrores’ (2:06), like the opening,
later ‘passus sum ab eis’ (2:30) and
most strikingly of all, the closing
‘Domine, ne moreris’ (4:02) reduce the
texture to three voices for greater
contrast when all five respond. That
closing ‘Lord, come quickly’ plea begins
with two differently scored passages
for three voices and is of a slowly
kindled intensity.
Again New College Oxford Choir (CRD
3439) provides the only other recording,
with again Higginbottom pacier, a total
timing of 4:22 against Carwood’s 5:28.
Higginbottom’s disciplined clarity of
entries, excitement of ‘vindica me’
and sweeping projection create a stoic
and stark effect. But the personal experience
of the emotions involved is more vividly
revealed by Carwood, with one voice
to a part at the original, more dour
lower pitch with an alto, rather than
treble, top line.
Domine, exaudi orationem meam, inclina
is a prayer taken from Psalm 143 set
in sinewy counterpoint. This is its
first recording. Carwood’s pace stresses
its candour, the interweaving of the
parts like a chain of prayer spotlighting
‘ad preces meas’ (from tr. 10 1:03),
asking for audience ‘for my prayers’
then acknowledging ‘inveritate tua’
(1:51), the Lord’s faithfulness, and
effecting a gentle climax to the first
section, ‘et iustitia tua’ (2:23), the
Lord’s righteousness. The second section
begins ‘Et non intres in iudicium’ (3:04),
‘And enter not into judgement’ set fairly
plainly because the elaboration of the
counterpoint is directed paradoxically
at emphasising the deference of ‘cum
servo tuo’ (from 3:03), ‘against your
servant’. Now Byrd manages to stress
‘in conspectu tuo’, in the Lord’s sight
(from 4:25), but relate this powerfully
to ‘omnes vivens’, all men living (from
4:51) by both texts being sung at the
same time by different parts before
all avow the later text from 5:54. Does
this all sound a bit too intricately
crafted for an expressive setting of
the text? Despite Carwood’s earnest
approach I’d say yes. The two simultaneous
texts aren’t always ideally clear. But
all credit for being the first to attempt
the piece on disc.
Apparebit in finem is another
first recording and a satisfying microcosm
of a Byrd motet. It offers an attractively
rapid transition from the crestfallen
unease of the sinking entries of ‘si
moriam fecerit’ (from tr. 3 0:38), ‘if
he make delay’, to the undeterred lightness
of ‘expecta illum’ (from 0:55), ‘wait
for him’. Almost immediately comes the
fluent assurance of ‘quia veniens veniet’
(from 1:18), ‘because he’s coming and
he will’, before the stabbing, martial
jubilation of ‘et non tardabit’ (from
1:45) ‘and won’t dawdle’, whose closing
entries are catapulted at faster rhythm.
I wondered why a piece of such madrigalian
texture and resilience hasn’t been recorded
before, then reflected that few ensembles
can deliver it as well as The Cardinall’s
Musick.
The remaining pieces are from the Gradualia
of 1605. First come the propers, that’s
the special set texts, for Lady Mass
in Eastertide. The introit Salve,
sancta parens has an eager five
rising notes opening. It is performed
by Carwood with a bright, hard edged,
glistening yet flowing quality appropriate
to the emphasis on eternal significance
and the entries of ‘in saecula saeculorum’
(from tr. 4 0:50). Its Easter Alleluias
are lighter, more dancing. Its second
section, ‘Eructavit cor meum’ (1:28)
is a more chaste contrast, in just three
voice parts before all five return for
the ‘Gloria Patri’ (2:00) which suddenly
becomes very florid at ‘et spiritui
sancto’ (from 2:07). The opening section
and Alleluias are then repeated to emphasise
this special day for Mary.
In these propers I shall compare The
William Byrd Choir/Gavin Turner 1990
recording (Hyperion CDH 55047). Their
approach to Salve, sancta parens
is more measured, with a timing of 5:53
in comparison with Carwood’s 4:37. The
effect is more contemplative and formal,
smoother in line but more intense in
delivery. The changes in harmony are
more pointed. This is partly because
Turner uses a chamber choir, but even
the second section, where he uses three
solo voices, is highly charged. Carwood
is more fluid, the outcome being that
the listener receives more of a feel
of a spontaneous experience and witness.
It even communicates an appetite for
jubilant celebration and there’s more
emphasis on melodic line and counterpoint.
I wouldn’t say one approach is preferable
to the other. The difference is interesting.
At this point to appreciate fully Byrd’s
setting of the propers you need to relate
them, as they would be in the Lady Mass,
to his setting of the ordinary, the
unchanging portions, of the mass for
five voices. For this you have to refer
to volume 5 of the Byrd Edition (ASV
Gaudeamus CDGAU 206, tracks 14-18).
The Kyrie and Gloria from the ordinary
are sung at this point. As Carwood uses
two voices per part for the ordinary
but only one per part for the propers,
that emphasises the latter’s more personal
quality. The Kyrie is more contemplative
and ascetic. The Gloria has a more universal,
communal quality yet the fluency of
expression of witness by The Cardinall’s
Musick is strikingly consistent over
the years and the passage beginning
‘Domine Deus, agnus Dei’, which Carwood
assigns to solo voices, is more closely
linked with the intimacy of the later
recorded propers.
Now comes the second proper, Alleluia,
Ave Maria … Virga Iesse. Carwood’s
approach is at first chaste and smooth
but the expression is impelled forward
by the faster rhythm, sometimes in only
one part. There are two very notable
features. First the madrigalian illustration
of blossoming on the word ‘floruit’
(tr. 5 1:44), vigorously realized here,
second how the Alleluias that follow
the explanatory text become ever more
fervent, first at 1:14 and then climactically
at 2:54.
With a total timing of 4:19 against
Carwood’s 3:39, Turner’s performance
of this piece is again more measured
but this time his pulse is quite forthright.
His chamber choir articulation is, however,
firmer and his manner more grand and
formal. The passage beginning ‘Virga
Iesse’ he assigns to solo voices with
the effect of mystery and homage. Here
Carwood (tr. 5 1:38) gets the effect
of wonder and excited realization. Turner
brings more of a sense of architecture
where Carwood concentrates on conveying
active identification with the text.
At this point the Credo from the ordinary
of the mass is sung and in Carwood’s
ASV performance you can appreciate the
contrast between its passages of personal
reflection, such as ‘Qui propter nos
homines’ sung by one voice to a part
and spirited passages with two voices
to a part, such as ‘Et resurrexit’.
The following proper on the present
Hyperion disc, Beata es, virgo Maria,
is uniformly serene but still flowing,
its Alleluias, only used at Easter,
add an exultant edge. Also using solo
voices here, Turner’s slower account,
2:53 against Carwood’s 2:06, is more
movingly intense and adoring, its Alleluias
particularly rapt. Carwood consistently
offers purposeful witness.
If, just at this point, like me you
consider that occasionally Carwood might
be a little more contemplative, his
answer would I think come in the Sanctus
from the ordinary of the mass which
comes next in the celebration. Carwood’s
ASV account of this is at once reflective
and adoring, a real contrast with an
intense, powerful arc on ‘Sanctus’.
With regard to the other two ordinary
settings, the solo voices for the Benedictus
worship in more sunny fashion. In the
Agnus Dei we’re back to the austerity
of sorrowful reflection, yet the third
supplication with two voices per part
is stark in its anguish before the extraordinary
lambent serenity of ‘dona nobis pacem’.
Now comes the final proper on the present
Hyperion disc. Beata viscera
is, in Carwood’s hands, both a homage
in busy counterpoint and an emphatic
statement in the firmness of its emerging
melodic line. Particularly notable is
the soprano cutting through the texture
with, in effect, the acclamation ‘Mariae
Virginis’ (tr. 7 0:13) and later at
‘aeterni Patris Filium’ (0:41), identifying
the son of the eternal father. There’s
a similar formality about the Easter
Alleluias here too, fitting for the
summation of the festival. Again Turner,
with a timing of 2:23 against Carwood’s
1:48 is more measured, emphasising contemplation
and beauty of sound, the structure less
apparent. Turner’s Alleluias create
a magically soft and reverent musical
mosaic. Carwood’s emphasis is on the
communication of the text as active
witness.
As it happens Carwood can be compared
with his earlier self here. The motets
in the Gradualia are used in
various combinations for different festivals,
so Beata viscera, without the
Easter Alleluias, occurs also in the
Propers for Lady Mass from Christmas
to the Purification recorded in 1999
in the Byrd Edition volume 7 (ASV Gaudeamus
CDGAU 224). The actual timing of this
earlier performance is very slightly
slower, 1:18 against 1:16 in 2006. The
overall approach and tone is the same
as are three of the five singers but
for me this 2006 performance has more
glow, intensity and weight. This is
partly because the recording seems a
little airier, partly because the soprano
is a stronger influence.
To this liturgical sequence can finally
be added Regina coeli, the Marian
antiphon during Eastertide, only for
three voices but what a corker! It has
four sections all terminated by chains
of Alleluias. The opening section is
athletic, firmly sprung here with lightly
rejoicing alleluias. The second section,
beginning ‘Quia quem meruisti’ (tr.
8 1:01), is indeed absorbed in ‘he who
Mary was worthy to bear’, with alleluias
to suit. The third section, beginning
‘Resurrexit’ (2:13) is equally fittingly
more animated in proclaiming the resurrection
with positively jazzy alleluias. This
leads to a final section, ‘Ora pro nobis
Deum’ (3:13) of light confident pealing
in this performance. Its appeal, ‘Pray
for us to God’, is simultaneously presented
in slow, chant-like manner in one part
against fast, dancing versions in the
other two parts. This is maintained
in the Alleluias but with the slow rhythm
skilfully dovetailed between the parts.
While this technique is used throughout
the piece it’s most apparent and assured
in this section. Andrew Carwood in his
lucid booklet notes, yet another felicity
of this CD, terms the antiphon “a compositional
(and performance) tour de force” and
he leads by example, for the only occasion
on this disc singing the lowest part
himself. This is a tremendously fluent,
pacy but never rushed, account.
The 1986 Chanticleer recording (Harmonia
Mundi HMT 7905182) is much more measured,
with a timing of 6:41 against Carwood’s
4:48. Chanticleer’s is a chamber choir
performance with countertenors on the
top line. The emphasis is on overall
smooth balance, finely achieved, in
comparison with Carwood to the detriment
of close attention to the text. The
third section, in particular, is comparatively
tame, though the second is an appealingly
tender recollection. With Carwood from
the start you can identify with an eager
desire to express the excitement and
zeal of text and music.
As it happens there’s a case to be made
for countertenors on the top two lines
of Ecce quam bonum, because the
text from Psalm 133 proclaims ‘habitare
fratres in unum’ (tr. 11 0:18), ‘brothers
living together in unity’. But Carwood’s
ladies in this first recording sound
quite like young men. It’s a fun piece,
especially at the beginning where the
imitation is sufficiently firm and regular
between the parts to sound like a succession
of rounds. From ‘quod descendit’ at
1:05 there are lots of descending patterns
to enjoy and a particularly lively illustration
in the top part of ointment streaming
down the beard at ‘in barbam’ at 1:17.
For me Unam petii a Domino is
Byrd just over the top, with every textual
excuse from Psalm 27. It’s a succession
of descending peals from the first appearance
of ‘Domino’ in the countertenor (tr.
13 0:05), the object of the petition
of the psalm, in continuous polyphony.
It is like seeing a parade of different
species of flower as they’re opening.
The focus and pealing shifts temporarily
to the singer, ‘vitae me’, ‘my
life’ from 1:32 but returns more elaborately
for the close to ‘templum eius’,
‘his temple’ from 3:00. There’s
an almost psychedelic quality about
the performance by The Cardinall’s Musick.
The only other recording, made in 1997
by The Ionian Singers/Timothy Salter
(Usk 1222), works less well with a
chamber choir. It’s neither as ecstatic
nor as freshly and precisely articulated
as Carwood’s solo voices. Salter’s slightly
higher pitch is even more demanding
in the generally high tessitura.
The opening text of In manus tuas,
Domine is from Psalm 31. The peals
here are gentler but ascending ones
an approach that gives the work an upbeat
quality. The prayer itself, ‘Into your
hands I commend my spirit’, is a relieving,
optimistic one and Carwood’s performance
almost sprints off the starting blocks
in heady mood which colours the following
appeal to Mary. In this case I feel
there’s room for a slightly smoother,
more serene approach; but in the mean
time I’m grateful for this first recording.
It’s possible to have that same feeling
about the prayer at compline, Visita
quaesumus, Domine. But this is interspersed
with homophonic passages where in effect
the top line leads, which is a becalming
factor. Again it’s the rising motifs
that stand out. That on ‘habitationem’
(tr. 14 0:19), the house at which the
prayer seeks visitation, is in Carwood’s
hands a kind of willed blessing to be
followed by the dancing real one, ‘benedictio’
at 2:18. This latter showers down from
the highest notes, ‘sit super
nos’, literally ‘be over us’
at 2:23. Meanwhile there has been a
radiant picturing of angels staying
there, ‘habitent in eia’ (1:44). Carwood’s
performance has a glow and intensity,
a caring insistency.
The recording published in 1989 by The
Cambridge Singers/John Rutter (Collegium
CSCD 507) is a softer focus affair of
the utmost gentleness. It’s beautifully
done, the angels ‘habitent in eia’ especially
tender, but there’s more artifice about
it, with the emphasis on smoothness
of phrasing and balance from the chamber
choir rather than Carwood’s clarity
of rhythmic variation and articulation
of the text. Rutter isn’t much more
measured, however, with a timing of
3:37 against 3:19 in the same music.
However, Rutter’s actual timing is 4:08
because he includes an Amen whose omission
from the Carwood recording without explanation
is puzzling as it’s printed in the authoritative
Byrd Edition of the music published
by Stainer and Bell.
In the CD booklet, which includes sung
texts and translation into English,
Carwood notes of Visita quaesumus
“the style and character are true to
the text”, a comment that serves equally
well for Byrd’s motets in general and
Carwood’s consistently excellent performances.
All this and four first recordings to
boot.
Michael Greenhalgh
Hyperion have confirmed
that Andrew Carwood accidentally omitted
the Amen
when transcribing Visita quaesumus for
the recorded performance. He intends
to record the motet again with its Amen
and include it in a future volume.
The Cardinall’s
Musick/Andrew Carwood 
for
details
