This is the second Naxos recital with the same title from 
                  these performers. The first (8.559299) 
                  was recorded in January 2006 and features two of the same composers 
                  as here. 
                  
                  The present disc opens with Vincent Persichetti’s Mass 
                  of 1960. Caroline Polk O’Meara’s booklet notes tell us that 
                  the work was conceived more for liturgical than for concert 
                  use, and first impressions confirm this. But first impressions 
                  can deceive too, and this mass is not really the austere, even 
                  severe composition that I initially thought. Repeated listening 
                  reveals a retrained, even understated work, but not an austere 
                  one. Most of the text is set to one note per syllable, and this, 
                  combined with the excellent diction of the University of Texas 
                  Chamber Singers, ensures that we hear every word. The work is 
                  based around a single theme, announced in unison at the outset. 
                  Only in the Sanctus does the music feel less focused, less convincing 
                  in the way it relates to the text. The Agnus Dei, however, wherein 
                  the composer relaxes a little his rule on syllabic word setting, 
                  is totally successful, the work closing serenely and touchingly 
                  on a bare fifth - not on a unison as the notes erroneously inform 
                  us. Getting to know this work has been a rewarding experience, 
                  and in spite of one or two difficult corners, it would make 
                  a most satisfying project for any competent amateur choir seeking 
                  to explore lesser known repertoire. 
                  
                  William Schuman’s almost contemporaneous and discouragingly 
                  entitled Carols of Death is more of a challenge, both 
                  for the performers and for the listener. The three pieces of 
                  which the work is composed are settings of words by Walt Whitman. 
                  The first two are largely homophonic, with a fair amount of 
                  chromatic writing mixed with extensive use of diatonic dissonance. 
                  There is some affecting word painting, particularly in the first 
                  song, and the second, which sets some of the same words as did 
                  Vaughan Williams in Toward the Unknown Region, opens 
                  with the words “Dearest thou now, O Soul” repeatedly passed 
                  from one voice to another in a way that presages John Adams. 
                  The third is a meditative setting of a single Whitman stanza, 
                  the music tender and touching, as the poet launches the invitation 
                  “Come lovely and soothing death.” Less immediately attractive 
                  that the Persichetti, the work similarly rewards patient attention. 
                  
                  
                  With The Hour-Glass, the composer Irving Fine makes his 
                  first appearance in my recorded collection. I’ll be making sure 
                  it isn’t the last. Composed in 1949, this is the earliest music 
                  on this disc. It is also, I think, the finest. This is perhaps 
                  confirmed, consciously or unconsciously, by the cover photo. 
                  Setting six short lyrics by Ben Jonson, the composer, in spite 
                  of a fairly advanced musical language, avoids any suspicion 
                  of anachronism. This is virtuoso choral writing, with even more 
                  challenging parts for the six soloists who more than justify 
                  their identification in the booklet and above. Indeed, it is 
                  the kind of visionary choral writing that requires great faith 
                  on the part of the composer. The first piece, for example, demands 
                  pinpoint accuracy in fast moving polyphony, without which it 
                  simply would not work. Most composers wouldn’t have dared. This 
                  superb choir succeeds admirably, thus rewarding the composer’s 
                  faith and vision. The words are always clear, too, thanks both 
                  to the performers’ skill and to the composer’s remarkable mastery 
                  of choral writing. The six songs are very varied, but each is 
                  as beautiful as the others. And I choose the word “beautiful” 
                  deliberately and without hesitation; anyone with doubts is invited 
                  to sample the second song, “Have you seen the white lily grow”, 
                  a simple and timeless setting of these lovely words, hugely 
                  respectful, matter of fact, even, in its way of presenting them, 
                  and very, very easy on the ear. 
                  
                  As is now the case with many Naxos releases, you have to go 
                  to the company’s website if you want to follow the sung texts. 
                  Finding them within Ben Jonson’s works is a challenge, as the 
                  composer obviously searched and read widely before he found 
                  the texts he wanted. Lukas Foss’s Psalms is easier in 
                  this respect. The first of the three pieces takes verses from 
                  Psalm 122, “I will life up mine eyes unto the hills”, the second, 
                  Psalm 98, “Sing unto the Lord a new song”, and the third, Psalm 
                  23, “The Lord is my shepherd.” In any event, there is much repetition 
                  of words and very little text is actually used. The work is 
                  scored for mixed choir, with two vocal soloists, and two pianos. 
                  The first movement is calm, with many beautiful moments, and 
                  seems a fine response to the calm certitude of the words. The 
                  second, by far the longest of the three, features a complex 
                  polyphonic texture, including a fugal passage which seems mischievous 
                  and playful where sheer, unbuttoned joy is what’s wanted. Calm 
                  is restored for the brief meditation which is the third movement. 
                  
                  
                  The problem of availability of the texts is compounded in The 
                  Mask. Bolcom is the only composer featured on this disc 
                  who is still alive, and his piece is the most recent of the 
                  programme. The original idea for the piece came from pianist 
                  Natalie Hinderas, and indeed there is an imposing piano part 
                  to this cycle of five songs, plus, strangely placed just before 
                  the short final song, a solo piano piece entitled “Interlude 
                  for Natalie”. The five poems are by twentieth-century African 
                  American writers, and, according to the note, deal with “the 
                  theme of the mask and hidden identity.” Whilst one can fully 
                  understand the Naxos reasoning, printing out the words then 
                  storing them somewhere afterwards is, at very least, a nuisance. 
                  A pity, too, since we need help to find our way properly into 
                  this fine and challenging work. The notes refer to the “deep 
                  diversity” of the composer’s musical language, and indeed, from 
                  the second song, which is a cheerful ragtime – though with a 
                  serious heart – we pass directly to a piano introduction to 
                  the third song which could almost have been written by Messiaen. 
                  
                  
                  Listening to these works without the score it is nonetheless 
                  obvious that all the performances from this fine choir, its 
                  soloists and two pianists are outstanding. The recording is 
                  superb. Altogether, this is an issue not to be missed by those 
                  for whom the programme is attractive. 
                  
                  William Hedley