John TAVERNER (c.1490-1545)
Missa Corona Spinea [47:49]
Dum transisset Sabbatum II [6:51]
Dum transisset Sabbatum I [7:25]
The Tallis Scholars/Peter Phillips
rec. Merton College Chapel, Oxford, date unspecified
Latin texts, English, French, German translations included
GIMELL CDGIM 046 [62:07]
Reviewed as CD (JQ) and from 24-bit download with booklet from Hyperion
(BW) - also available in mp3 and 16-bit and in the same and additonal
formats from Gimell.
This is, I think, the third recording of a Mass by
John Taverner that Peter Phillips and the Tallis Scholars have made.
They recorded the Western Wind Mass as far back as 1993 (review).
They waited some twenty years before committing another Taverner Mass
to disc: the great Missa Gloria tibi Trinitas was issued in 2013
to mark in sumptuous style the group’s fortieth anniversary (review).
It may be coincidence but within weeks of achieving another important
milestone – their 2000th concert (review)
– along comes a new recording of another opulent Taverner Mass: Missa
Corona Spinea.
Missa Corona Spinea (‘The Crown of Thorns’) is one of Taverner’s
most important and ambitious works. It’s conceived on a grand scale;
Peter Phillips notes that it’s more than one hundred modern bars longer
than Missa Gloria tibi Trinitas, which itself is a very substantial
piece indeed. An indication – but only an indication – of the scale
of Missa Corona Spinea can be gleaned from the fact that Phillips’
recorded performance of Missa Gloria tibi Trinitas plays for
some six minutes less (42:21). In his notes Phillips speculates plausibly
that the Mass was probably written for a big occasion and that perhaps
this occasion was a visit in 1527 by King Henry VIII and his then Queen,
Catherine of Aragon, to Cardinal College, Oxford, founded by Taverner’s
patron, Cardinal Wolsey.
The Mass is elaborately scored in six parts (TrMATBB) and what I might
term the extremities of the scoring call for comment. In the first place
the treble line is extraordinarily – and unremittingly – high-lying.
Secondly, Taverner anchors the ensemble with not one but two bass parts.
As Peter Phillips points out, it would have been more usual to have
two alto parts. To employ an architectural analogy one might suggest
that the high and decorative treble line is akin to the tracery in the
fan vaulting that was so much a feature of pre-Reformation English ecclesiastical
buildings while the bass parts provide support similar to that afforded
by flying buttresses. Faced with Taverner’s opulent writing, and perhaps
feeling the need to reinforce his trebles, Phillips has expanded his
normal two voices per part forces; here the Tallis Scholars number 18
singers in all (3/2/4/3/3/3).
Perhaps the inevitable comparator for this new recording is the 1989
Hyperion recording by Harry Christophers and The Sixteen, which has
previously been reviewed by Brian
Wilson and Ralph
Moore. There’s a great deal to admire in the Christophers recording
but there are two crucial differences between it and the new Tallis
Scholars version. One concerns the recorded sound. The Hyperion recording
was made in St Jude-on-the-Hill Church in London. Christophers’ choir
is placed further away from the microphones than are the Tallis Scholars.
Gimell’s recording is more closely balanced – though not in an oppressive
way. This means that there’s more of an acoustic halo round The Sixteen
while the sound of the Tallis Scholars has much more impact. The aural
effect - or illusion - is that with Gimell you feel as if you’re hearing
the singers from a seat nearby in the quire whereas Hyperion offers
you a seat in a pew situated a few rows back from the altar rail. This
has implications for the music; the polyphony emerges with much greater
clarity on the Gimell recording.
The other important difference is to do with pacing. For once, the respective
timings do give a fair view. Harry Christophers takes 39:07, compared
with Peter Phillips’ overall timing of 47:49. The difference in timings
reflect the fact that at almost every turn Christophers adopts a swifter
tempo which, it seems to me, is consistent with a very different view
of the work as compared to Peter Phillips.
The Gloria offers a good – and fairly typical – example of the respective
approaches. From the start Peter Phillips evidences a more spacious
view of the music than does his colleague. Perhaps there’s a bit more
flamboyance and athleticism to Christophers’ performance and some may
well prefer that. However, I think Phillips brings out the sheer grandeur
of the piece to a much greater degree. As I indicated earlier, the part-writing
registers with far greater clarity in the Gimell recording. The arresting
treble line is even more evident in the Phillips reading than in the
Christophers version. When we get to ‘Qui tollis’ (at 5:33 in the Gimell
account, 4:18 with The Sixteen) Phillips invests the music with a satisfying
degree of breadth. Christophers eases his tempo too but his approach
is the more flowing of the two. The Phillips performance sounds more
devotional. At ‘Qui sedes’ Taverner deploys all six parts together and
the Tallis Scholars produce a very full and majestic sound – and the
fearsome treble line sounds absolutely secure, as it does from The Sixteen.
Phillips steps up the pace at ‘Cum sancto Spiritu’ and there’s a palpable
air of jubilation. At this point Christophers is quicker and his performance
is very exciting; however, the polyphony is nowhere near as clear on
his recording.
I’ve gone into some detail about the Gloria. I don’t propose to continue
the detailed comparisons because this movement of the Mass typifies
the respective approaches of the two performances throughout the work
as a whole. Phillips’ account of the Credo is superb, especially in
several passages where all six parts are heard. In these sections the
Tallis Scholars produce rich, full sound and the polyphonic writing
positively buzzes. The full-throated ‘Hosanna’ section of the Sanctus
is thrilling while the Benedictus that follows is serene and long-breathed.
Partway through the Benedictus, at ‘Qui venit in nomine Domini’ (track
7 from 0:41) Peter Philips draws our attention to a gimell, in which
the treble part divides into two. This is an extraordinarily elaborate
and extended example of this device and it’s splendidly caught by the
engineers.
Taverner caps this achievement a few minutes later. The first section
of the three-fold Agnus Dei unfolds in a timeless fashion – this is
an excellent example of Peter Phillips’ spacious and patient approach
to the music paying huge dividends. In the second Agnus (track 10, from
1:29) there’s a double gimell in which not only the treble part
but also the mean is divided. This is even more remarkable than the
first use of the device; Taverner’s invention is even more lavish and
once again the gimell writing is very extended.
This is a magnificent recording of Missa Corona Spinea. The singing
shows all the customary hallmarks of a Tallis Scholars recording: absolute
precision, immaculate balance and blend; flawless tuning; and great
commitment to the music. I should single out for special praise Janet
Coxwell, Amy Haworth and Emma Walshe who sustain Taverner’s stratospherically
high treble line. The part is tremendously demanding yet there’s never
the slightest hint of strain in the singing which has consistent purity
of tone and a laser-like focus. I’m thoroughly convinced by Peter Phillips’
spacious and often majestic approach to the music. I wouldn’t by any
means dismiss the Christophers account; I admire the energy and drive
in what is a very valid alternative way with the music. However, I think
that the Tallis Scholars convey more successfully the grandeur which
is at the heart of this Mass setting and the recorded balance means
that their singing has greater impact than is achieved on the Hyperion
disc. Should you discard the Hyperion in favour of this new Gimell?
No, but if you already have the Christophers performance you should
add this new recording because the two conceptions of the work are different
and complementary; collectors of English polyphony should on no account
miss this Gimell disc. For myself, I have a strong preference for the
Tallis Scholars but The Sixteen also have much to say about this extraordinary
work.
The attraction of the new disc is enhanced by the addition of both of
Taverner’s wonderful settings of the Easter Sunday Matins Respond, Dum
transisset Sabbatum. It seems almost superfluous to say that both
are superbly performed.
This is a spectacular disc from the Tallis Scholars.
John
Quinn
Another review ...
My love affair with Taverner’s Missa Corona Spinea goes back
a long way to a Saga LP on which it was performed by the Schola Cantorum
of Oxford directed by John Byrt. It first appeared at full price in
1969 and reappeared at budget price on Saga in 1973, soon after the
birth of The Tallis Scholars. Like the new Gimell, it was coupled with
Dum transisset Sabbatum I and it cost all of £0.79. (SAGA5369).
Unfortunately the note at the end of Jeremy Noble’s otherwise very positive
review in Gramophone that the recording was ‘not quite all it
might be’ and that the low recording level was irritating ‘when the
surface [was] not free from snaps and crackles’ was an understatement
in the latter respect. Like, I’m sorry to say, most Saga releases until
much later when they were manufactured in Germany, it sounded as if
it had been pressed on medium-coarse sandpaper, but the performances,
especially that of Dum transisset, set a very high benchmark
in my unconscious.
Since then we have had two other benchmark recordings of the Mass which
appeared around the same time in late 1989: one with boys’ voices on
the top parts and another, like the new Gimell, with mixed voices from
The Sixteen and Harry Christophers (Hyperion CDH55051, with Gaude
plurimum and In pace, in idipsum or as part of budget-price
10-CD set, The Golden Age of English Polyphony, CDS44401/10).
As John Quinn has made some detailed comparisons with the recording
by The Sixteen, I shall not go over the same ground, merely echoing
his preference for the Scholars but retaining an intention by no means
to jettison The Sixteen.
In principle recordings with boy trebles and means should get us closer
to the sound which Taverner would have expected. That’s especially
true of the version from Christ Church, Oxford, directed by Francis
Grier (with O Wilhelme, pastor bone, ASV CDGAU115, download only
or as a special pressing from Presto):
Taverner was the choirmaster of the short-lived Cardinal College, Oxford,
which later became Christ Church and his Masses were probably intended
for performance there, though the ASV underplayed the special nature
of their recording, made using the descendants of Taverner’s choristers, by
suggesting that the music had been intended not for Oxford but for the
more modest parochial forces at Tattershall. With rather brisk tempos
and high pitch Grier places great demands on his team, especially the
boys, but they come through brilliantly for him and I shall want to
continue to hear this recording alongside the Gimell.
More recently Delphian recorded another traditional Anglican choir,
that of St Mary’s Cathedral, Edinburgh, in the music of Taverner: Dum
transisset Sabbatum I; Leroy Kyrie; Missa Corona Spinea;
Dum transisset Sabbatum II and O splendor glorie (DCD34023).
As it happens, John Quinn and I both reviewed this – we often cover
the same repertoire. That’s another Recording of the Month –
review – review
– which we both greatly enjoyed despite or even because of the fast
tempi adopted by Duncan Ferguson. It’s especially valuable in prefacing
the Mass, which has no setting of the Kyrie, as usual with Tudor
settings, with Taverner’s ‘spare’ Leroy Kyrie.
At first hearing sixteenth-century polyphony presents a wall of sound.
It’s a superbly built wall, but listen more attentively and it’s a wall
in which the various parts are constantly moving and interlocking in
different combinations. Even the number of the parts changes from one
moment to the other, but it takes all the tricks of modern technology
to record them so that we can hear them all. The ASV and Hyperion recordings
are good but the new Gimell goes one or two better in offering, in addition
to the CD, downloads in 24/96 (£15 from Gimell or Hyperion) and 24/176.4
sound, flac or alac. I downloaded the former but even the top quality
is not expensive – £18 from Gimell or Hyperion, with 24/48 and 24/96
5.1 surround also available from Gimell. I also tried the 16-bit CD-quality
download in order to burn it to disc and that sounds excellent, too.
The 5.1 version sounds like a must-have for listeners with the right
equipment.
The Recording of the Month designation comes from both of us. I’ve
been playing this music for over a month and itching to write up the
review and feeling constrained by the request to do so only around the
time of the release. I’ve never tired of listening to it. I’m not
a great fan of hearing music on the train but Missa Corona Spinea
has accompanied me several times recently via the Sony Walkman, the
latest version of which will play 24-bit quality files. I’ve even used
it to test a new television sound-base, to which the Walkman ‘talks’
via Bluetooth.
All those years ago it wasn’t just the Corona Spinea Mass which
captivated me, superb as that is. If anything, I found the Easter respond
Dum transisset I even more entrancing. It’s a much more elaborate
setting than Dum transisset II, with especially haunting repetitions
of the word aromata – the spices which the women had brought
to the tomb. Schola Cantorum did that superbly but the Tallis scholars
are at least their match and, by including both settings, they allow
us to compare. They didn’t quite convince me that II is the equal of
I but I can’t imagine better advocacy.
Many times in the past I’ve thought that the Tallis Scholars had reached
their peak but yet again, as when I recently reported on their 200th
concert – review
– they have proved that they are still on top form, perhaps even surpassing
their previous best. With recording to match – go for one of the 24-bit
downloads if possible, but the CD is fine, too – lovers of Tudor polyphony
should not hesitate.
Brian Wilson