Michael FINNISSY (b.1946)
 Pious Anthems and Voluntaries
 Glen Dempsey (organ); James Anderson-Besant (organ)
 Sarah O’Flynn (flute); Cecily Ward (violin)
 The Choir of St John’s College, Cambridge/Andrew Nethsingha
 rec. St John’s College Chapel, Cambridge, 14-18 July 2019. DDD.
 Texts and translations included.
 Reviewed as 24/96 download with pdf booklet from
    
        hyperion-records.co.uk
    
 SIGNUM SIGCD624
    [83:56]
	
	There are certain words which philologists call ‘object words’: you have to 
	show the thing in order to define it. It’s no use calling a cat ‘a feline 
	quadruped’ if you don’t know what a cat is. I can try to
    describe this recording, but it won’t help if you don’t know where Michael
    Finnissy was coming from when he composed this music during a long period
    of residency at St John’s College, Cambridge. The lengthy and detailed
    commentary in the booklet is very helpful, again if you have already heard
    the music, but not otherwise. For those who would like to read it before
    committing themselves, the booklet is available free to all comers from
    
        Hyperion,
    where the album can be downloaded in 16- and 24-bit sound. It’s also
    available from Naxos Music Library, where subscribers can stream the music
    – and decide what it’s like.
	Perhaps it would help if I say that the figure on the cover, with part of 
	the left side in harmony with the right and part slightly disconnected, 
	struck me as an apt symbol for the music, with the music of the past and 
	Michael Finnissy’s response to it sometimes hamonious here and sometimes 
	(very much) at odds.
 
    A starting point might be the concept of the organ voluntary. If you listen
    to BBC Radio 3’s regular Wednesday and Sunday afternoon broadcasts of
    Choral Evensong, you will know that the organist usually plays out the
    programme with an improvisation on a theme, which may be based on a
    well-known tune, often by an earlier musician. Many composers in the renaissance took a tune, sometimes a
sacred tune, but more often a secular song, and used it as the basis or    cantus firmus of a setting of the Mass.
 
    Or you may recall the scene in the film Amadeus where Mozart is
    challenged to play a piece of music in the style of another composer – one
    of the few aspects of the film that has some claim to be true. Michael
    Finnissy has done that on a grander scale, taking the wide-ranging
    repertoire of St John’s College choir and composing his own 
	distinctive response to five
    works in that repertoire. This is music of the past – it even has an
    old-fashioned sounding title – realised in a modern context. Don’t be put
    off by the title, there’s nothing ‘pious’ here in the sense of stuck-up or
    holier-than-thou.
 
The programme begins with the Easter Day respond    Dum transisset sabbatum, a respond for Mattins commemorating the
    visit of the three Maries to what turns out to be an empty tomb. John
    Taverner’s settings have become among the best-known pieces by an early
    Tudor composer, with many recordings to their credit. In turn, a section from
    one of Taverner’s Mass settings became the model for an instrumental
    composition known as an In Nomine, a practice apparently initiated
    by Christopher Tye, whose Complete Consort Music has been recorded by
Phantasm (Linn CKD571). That Phantasm collection, in addition to severa lIn Nomine settings, also includes one on the plainsong theme of    Dum transisset sabbatum, so there is long-standing precedent for
    what Finnissy has done. (Incidentally, I must apologise for having failed
    to review the Linn recording, about which I have far fewer reservations
    than my colleague Dominy Clements –
    
        review).
 
    The one work that isn’t based on a choral original occurs on track 12, the
    commentary on BWV562, Fantasia and Fugue in c minor. It’s also the most
    adventurous – those who dislike the avant-garde should stay clear.
 
    If you have got so far through my explanation, you will want to know if I
    liked what I heard. The answer is that I did, but that I got more out of it
    academically and intellectually than emotionally. The Bach cantata, as it
    is heard here, is very touching at times, but at other times I found myself
    harking back to a time as an undergraduate struggling with the intricacies
    of Vergilian word-order in the Æneid, or reading the lengthy notes
    in the Klaeber edition of Beowulf. Or trying in my MA dissertation
to fathom the significance of the music in Spenser’s    Bower of Bliss; things that I ‘enjoyed’ on a very different level
    from sitting back and enjoying a piece of music or literature for itself.
 
    I think that Johann Sebastian might have approved of what Finnissy has
    done with his cantata. After all, he was not above playing intellectual and
    mathematical games in his music, but in his work as Thomaskantor, he was
    adapting a well-established musical tradition to the needs of the people of
his day in Leipzig. One of his best-known themes, which he set to the words    O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden in the St Matthew Passion, but also
    in a very different context in the Christmas Oratorio and as a counterpoint
    in Cantata No.161, has a lengthy pre-history in Lutheran music, apparently
    first appearing as a secular love song c.1600 and adapted as a hymn a few
    years later.
 
    Would he have approved of what Finnissy has done with BW562, arranging it
    for organ, flute and violin? I think that’s a more open question – it
    certainly goes well beyond the sort of closing voluntary played at Evensong, even,
    I assume, at St John’s. Finnissy’s notes mention, almost in passing, that
the nine sections of this recording have an affinity with Boulez’s    Le Marteau sans Maître. I had best leave 
	unwritten what I think of
    that work or of Pli selon pli, other than to say that I struggle
    to think of either as music. Somewhere between Olivier Messiaen, whose
    music I revere, and his erstwhile pupil Boulez a great gulf is fixed for
    me.
 
    I’m very much in favour of music by modern composers with a sense of the
    past, and frequently say so. Francis Pott, for example, strikes me as such
    a composer – try his recent release At First Light (Naxos 8.573976
    –
    
        review)
    and his earlier The Cloud of Unknowing (Signum SIGCD105:
    Recording of the Month –
    
        review). Such, too, is Ian Venables, whose Requiem, recently recorded by
    Somm, has received high praise from
    
        myself
    
    and my colleagues. (SOMMCD0618 –
    
        review
    
    –
    
        review).
 
    If you are looking for a more amenable recording which specifically
    references the music of the past and present, there’s a good example on the
    Coro label, on which The Sixteen supplement their splendid recordings of
    music from the early-sixteenth-century Eton Choirbook, works by Sheppard,
    Wylkynson and Fayrfax, with music by Tavener (the modern composer, without
    an extra r), Whitacre, Jackson and MacMillan (An Enduring Voice,
    COR16170: music ‘well chosen to blend’ –
    
        Spring 2019/1). On the basis of this recording, Michael Finnissy doesn’t tick as many
    boxes for me, but the Signum album is intriguing enough to make me look out
    for future releases of his music.
 
Simultaneously with the Finnissy, Signum have released Eric Whitacre’s    The Sacred Veil (SIGCD630). I’m listening to that as I conclude
    this review, downloaded, like the Finnissy, in 24-bit sound from Hyperion;
    I suspect, from a first hearing and from other music by this composer, to
    be listening to that more often than the Finnissy.
 
    The composer’s notes refer to music ‘with guts and brains’; it’s certainly
    often gutsy and largely intellectually fulfilling, and I can’t imagine that
    St John’s Choir and Andrew Netsingha could be excelled – after all, they
    have lived through the music’s gestation. Most of all, the burden falls on
    the able hands and feet of organist Glen Dempsey who, with second organist
James Anderson-Besant, brings the programme to a powerful close in    Plebs angelica. The recording, heard in 24/96 quality, is very
    good; even in that hi-def format, at £12, it won’t break the bank, with mp3
    or 16-bit at £7.99. The CDs cost around £12.75, effectively two for the 
	price of one.
 
    I found the whole experience admirable rather than enjoyable, but I should
    add that I note that other reviewers have been much more enthusiastic, an 
	Editor's Choice and a 5-star, so,
    as so often, I recommend sampling for yourself.
    
        Naxos Music Library
    
    have it, with booklet. If you feel as upset by some of the music as I did,
    I suspect that’s part of the composer’s intention.
 
    Brian Wilson
 
    
    Contents 
    CD1
 Dum transisset Sabbatum
    [8:07]
 Dum transisset Sabbatum
    – double (organ) [7:49]
 Videte miraculum
    [8:25]
 Videte miraculum
    – double (organ) [9:19]
 
    CD2
 Commentary on ‘Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern’ (organ, flute and
    violin) [4:00]
 Cantata: ‘Herr Christ, der einge Gottessohn’ [19:14]
 Commentary on BWV562 (organ, flute and violin) [5:32]
 Plebs angelica
    [7:59]
 Plebs angelica
    – alternativo (organ duo) [13:30]