This even-tempered yet penetrative account of music from the 
                  sixteenth century in the period between the death of Josquin 
                  and the glories of Lassus is a reissue from 1996 of Hyperion 
                  CDA66943. The music of Gombert, Clemens non Papa, Adrian Willaert, 
                  Morales and so on was by no means nondescript, however. It was 
                  full of innovation; without it there could have been no Palestrina. 
                  In harmony, sense of forward movement and expansive, generous 
                  structure these composers wrote music which is every bit as 
                  complete and satisfying as that of the giants who surrounded 
                  them chronologically. 
                    
                  Yet their music - including the five wonderful pieces on this 
                  CD - needs calm, steady and incisive performance to reveal its 
                  strengths. It needs to be performed with reference chiefly to 
                  itself, and not its (perceived) place in history. This is precisely 
                  what Henry's Eight and the soloists do; and very well too. Not 
                  only is each syllable clear, each articulation, attack of vowel, 
                  consonant and consonant cluster - including some pretty sibilant 
                  ones at times but without distraction - audible throughout. 
                  They're expressed solely in the interests of carrying the weight 
                  of the texts, and not creating undue effect. The central Credo 
                  of the main Missa Tempore Paschali [tr.5], for example, 
                  never suffers from being mere exposition; but its import, its 
                  burden as an act of unquestioning faith gently but unambiguously 
                  moves the movement forward to the final 'Amen' in such a way 
                  that celebrants can have been in no doubt why they had met to 
                  worship. 
                    
                  This clarity and depth are helped by a generous and appropriately 
                  spacious, though contained, acoustic; and a crisp, focused recording. 
                  One is tempted to long for the space and extra dimensions of 
                  surround sound or even SACD. But so skilful are the Hyperion 
                  engineers, that perspective, emphasis, highlights and proportions 
                  are all present in the exact measure necessary to bring out 
                  to the full the singers' working of Gombert's frequent yet unexpected 
                  chromaticism, his long lines, his varied phrasing and overall 
                  sense of structure and sense of tempi … listen to the 
                  way the short but very telling In illo tempore [tr.6] 
                  comes to an end. Nothing is left hanging. The singers make no 
                  more drama out of this movement than is there in the first place. 
                  Yet they also leave nothing out. 
                    
                  We know little of the life of Nicolas Gombert; at times dissolute, 
                  he seems to have had enough charisma - and maybe his music does, 
                  as well - to win a pardon from Charles V at one point. Travelled 
                  widely in Europe, the composer absorbed and was quietly influenced 
                  by a multitude of styles, especially Italian, and at a time 
                  when the particularly sublime sound of the Low Countries was 
                  gaining ground. It's hard to say whether this or Gombert's own 
                  musical predisposition accounts for his preference for sound 
                  - short phrasing and a preference for melisma - over purely 
                  transparent textual settings. Nevertheless, the singing on this 
                  CD achieves a particularly felicitous balance. It’s one 
                  that is to be welcomed. 
                    
                  There's only one other recording of the Mass, with the Huelgas 
                  Ensemble under Paul van Nevel from 1993 on the Sony Classical 
                  Vivarte Series (48249). That recording has other secondary works. 
                  Here Brown has chosen to follow a practice which we know is 
                  authentic … inserting other choral movements by Gombert 
                  before and after the Credo, Benedictus and before 
                  the sublime Agnus Dei. This is, by the way, a movement 
                  whose treatment of polyphony for once anticipates the more 'total' 
                  sounds of Palestrina and his contemporaries. Indeed, the Mass 
                  progresses from six to eight to twelve parts. Yet these singers 
                  still manage to pick their way through the rich and resonant, 
                  though not dense, choral writing and present a very clear sound. 
                  
                    
                  Given the quite prolific output of Gombert, or at least the 
                  number of his works that have survived, he's underrepresented 
                  on disc. This is an all the more welcome addition to the catalogue. 
                  Add the idiomatic, measured yet expressive and technically translucent 
                  and convincing singing styles which Henry's Eight and soloists 
                  bring, the acoustic and an informative set of liner-notes - 
                  if in a font that's too small to read comfortably - with the 
                  texts in Latin and English translation and you have a real winner. 
                  
                    
                  Mark Sealey