This CD’s absorbing focus is centred on how far church music changed
when Queen Elizabeth I succeeded Mary and how far it didn’t.
The first four items
belong to Mary’s reign. Tye’s Omnes gentes, plaudite manibus
(tr. 1) is given a spruce, freshly scrubbed account. It’s rather
stark in the dominance of its trebles’ piercing high register
and emphasis on rising motifs, for instance the athletic ‘Ascendit
Deus in iubilo’ (1:30). I compared O’Donnell’s 1998 recording
with his previous choir, that of Westminster Cathedral (Hyperion
CDA66850). Timing at 4:36 this is slower than 2008’s 4:15 but
thereby calmer with a smoother line and more even tonal balance
between the trebles and lower parts. ‘Ascendit Deus’ is a creamier,
more euphonious sound, the lower parts more lyrical. The beginning
of the second section, ‘Psallite Deo’, in place of 2008’s assertive
scintillation (2:06) has a more madrigalian joy. The treble entries
at ‘Quoniam rex’, ‘psallite sapienter’ and the closing ‘elevati
sunt’ crown the texture with more sheen and with a reflective
quality. The 2008 version delivers a harder-edged stunning display
of virtuosity and rigour.
Mundy’s Vox Patris
caelestis (tr. 2) has a rarefied quality from the opening
verse and come the trebles’ entry in descant register at ‘ex corde
purissimo’ (2:20) we’re left in no doubt as to the special nature
of Mary. A verse of high voices at ‘Surge, propera’ (6:48) is
followed by one of low voices at ‘Veni de corpore mortali’ (8:05)
giving a feel of limitless space emphasised by the beaming splendour
of the full chorus ‘Veni ad me’ (9:14). The soloists’ singing
in the verses has firmness and edge, leanness of projection and
purposive ardour of progression. The booklet rightly credits them,
as I have in this review’s heading. Similarly in the chorus there’s
muscularity in the melismata of the imitative entries in the different
parts from 10:25 at ‘speciem tuam’ matching a text of unequivocal
desire. The closing chorus is the most exciting with skipping
semiquaver descents in its final ‘Veni’ appeals (15:32) and the
heavenwards surge of the ascending flourishes from 16:19 in its
‘Amen’. I compared The Tallis Scholars/Peter Phillips recorded
in 1996 (Gimell GIMSE401). Phillips is slightly slower, 17:39
against O’Donnell’s 17:26, with a quieter opening emphasising
clarity of part-writing more than its progression. The sopranos’
descant is more objective and ethereal. The descant of O’Donnell’s
trebles is more authentic and striking while generally his account
has a more stunning impact than Phillips’ more beauteous meditation.
Videte miraculum
(tr. 3) finds Tallis alternating plainchant with elaborate polyphony
in six parts. The opening dissonances on the tiered entries of
‘miraculum’ from the lowest to highest parts, quite pacily presented
by O’Donnell, create a shiver of strangeness. The second section,
‘Stans onerata’ (1:47) has a gleaming clarity and strength of
statement leading to a glowing invocation to ‘Maria’. The third
section, ‘Et matrem se laetam’ (2:35) has a homelier feel of reverent
wonder. There’s more of a personal quality and poise about this
performance than the 1998 recording by the Chapelle du Roi/Alistair
Dixon (Signum SIGCD010) which takes a more dramatic, sinewy lean
approach. Westminster’s top line is firmer, less exactly balanced
than Dixon’s smaller ensemble but O’Donnell’s overall presentation
is smoother.
Sheppard’s Libera
nos, salva nos I (tr. 4) is a prayer to the Holy Trinity in
which a slow moving plainsong bass is the foundation for six vocal
parts in imitative counterpoint, in particular the two treble
parts blossoming in their highest pitch in the closing repetitions
of ‘O beata Trinitas’. O’Donnell keeps this all suitably lambent
and reflective with his larger body of voices than Stile Antico’s
2006 recording (Harmonia Mundi HMU807419). Stile Antico’s mixed
voices, less authentic for this piece, are creamier and their
close is a little fuller, more ethereal, less prayerful. Yet with
both accounts you feel the prayer rising and radiating around
the church vaulting.
The remaining items
on this CD belong to Elizabeth’s reign. Sheppard’s Second Service
makes the English text setting for Elizabeth scrupulously clear.
It also has an opulence of presentation achieved by a mix of full
choir, antiphony between cantoris and decani, repetition
of significant text such as ‘all generations’ (tr. 5 0:46) and
imitation. ‘He hath put down’ (2:34) is started by cantoris
and imitated by decani. In the Magnificat Amen even dancing
melismata are admitted on the first syllable. O’Donnell presents
this smilingly while the Nunc dimittis (tr. 6) is similarly both
majestic and serene with the imitation again spotlighting key
elements of the text, ‘To be a light’, ‘glory’, ‘And ever shall
be’. O’Donnell is more blithe and festive than The Sixteen/Harry
Christophers (Hyperion CDA66603) recorded in 1992. O’Donnell’s
all-male forces and use of organ accompaniment are also more authentic.
Byrd is first represented
by Teach me, O Lord (tr. 7), the one piece on this CD sung
by many parish church choirs. It is a straightforward setting
in which verses for treble soloist with organ accompaniment alternate
with chorus in five parts. The quality, however, lies in the detail,
the clarity with which the elaborate cross-rhythms towards the
end of the choruses and the slighter yet growing elaboration of
rhythm in the solo verses and finesse of the organ accompaniment
may be appreciated. O’Donnell’s account is very stylish in these
aspects. I compared the 1992 Worcester Cathedral Choir/Donald
Hunt recording (Griffin GCCD4053, review).
Somewhat slower than O’Donnell, 3:44 against 3:20, Hunt has a
more reflective, adoring beauty, but I prefer O’Donnell’s purposive
quality of resolute prayer, expressively articulated.
In this CD’s scholarly
yet very readable booklet note organist Robert Quinney refers
to the ‘personal expressivity’ that marks out Ne irascaris,
Domine (tr. 8). This partly stems from it having been published
for domestic performance, the expected forces thus being small-scale,
mixed voices, perhaps less than the thirteen of the 2007 recording
by Stile Antico (Harmonia Mundi HMU807463 - review).
O’Donnell here shows that 29 voices can still be expressive. Admittedly
the balance isn’t as finely blended as Stile Antico’s three sopranos,
three altos, three tenors, two baritones and two basses when Westminster
fields sixteen trebles, four countertenors, four tenors and five
basses but the lower parts are sufficiently prominent for it not
to be treble-dominated here. Stile Antico are a little slower
and more meditative, 9:38 against 8:53, with a smoother-shaped
line, beauteously polished and heard to glowing effect. Westminster’s
articulation has a more careworn quality, so the opening is more
of an appeal, the cries of ‘Ecce’ more imploring beacons, ‘populos
tuos’ has a more affecting humility, though Stile Antico are soft
and contrite. Stile Antico set apart the chordal section, ‘Sion
deserta’ more raptly with greater poise than O’Donnell. On the
other hand he brings a plainer sense of expanse to ‘facta est
deserta’ which suits the text better. His ‘Jerusalem’ succeeding
entries bring a more uplifting recollection of happier times;
this before more aching ones for ‘desolata est’ provide a vivid
sense of community of witness and pain.
Also well known
is O Lord, make thy servant Elizabeth (tr. 9), which
O’Donnell begins in quiet reverence which is earnest in its
progression and in its clarity of counterpoint. The ardour of
entries of the different vocal parts for ‘and give her a long
life’ (from 1:24) is as if the Tudor rose opens into full bloom.
O’Donnell recorded this anthem with the same choir in 2005 (Hyperion
CDA 67533). The earlier account, timing at 3:01 against the
present 2:43, is more projected and stately but also more objective.
This 2008 performance has a more natural flow and thence a contemplative
quality and inwardness which brings greater strength to its
supplications.
White’s Exaudiat
te Dominus (tr. 10) sees a return to Mundy’s dramatic contrasts
between verses and choruses but with yet bolder effects and terser
presentation. The opening verse is notably freer flowing with
showy roulades in the upper parts at ‘tuum confirmet’ (1:36) carried
off here with a real flourish, then a sonorous chorus, ‘Laetabimur
in salutari tui’ (1:53), rejoicing indeed. The verse ‘Exaudiat
in illum’ (3:22), starting in two parts, is suddenly more measured
and yearningly personal as is the light realization of ‘nos autem
surreximus’ (5:29) and the dancing beginning of the closing ‘Domine,
salvum fac regem’ (5:48) before the chorus takes it up in a sumptuous
seven-part texture. I compared The Tallis Scholars/Peter Phillips
recording of 1995 (Gimell CDGIM030) which at 9:35 is a good deal
slower than O’Donnell’s 7:40. Phillips clarifies the text and
beauty of the worship with smooth-spanned roulades and choruses
broad in line and tone, the closing one with an adoring opening.
Yet O’Donnell brings a more engaging urgency and assertion - more
grit, if you like.
This illuminating
CD of consistently fine performances shows that the musical
glory of Elizabeth’s reign was its flexibility, a tolerated
co-existence of old and new styles.
Michael Greenhalgh
1,4,5Nicholas
Trapp, 1,5William Fairbairn, Benedict Kearns, Hee-Rak
Yang, Cameron Roberts, 1Maxim Del Mar, 5Raphael
Taylor-Davies (trebles), 1,5David Martin, Benjamin Turner,
1Michael Lees (counter-tenors), 1,2,5Leigh
Nixon (2cantor), 1,5Julian Stocker, 1Mark
Dobell, William Balkwill (tenors), 1Julian Empett (baritone),
1,3,5Robert Macdonald (3cantor), 1,5Frances
Brett, 1Stuart Young (basses), *Robert Quinney (organ),
The Choir of Westminster Abbey/James O’Donnell 
