Roderick Williams is perhaps one of the finest Finzi 
                    singers ever. He’s immersed in the choral tradition, yet brings 
                    to English song a new freshness. It’s a wonderful combination. 
                    He understands the music and its background, yet sings with 
                    a direct vividness that communicates beyond the genre, giving 
                    it a universal, human quality that’s unfortunately sometimes 
                    missed in the somewhat insular world of British music. Finzi 
                    may have written in the English manner but there is something 
                    deep in his music that transcends context.
                  By 
                    Footpath and Stile is an early 
                    cycle, begun in 1921, revised but left unfinished until Howard 
                    Ferguson edited it half a century after the composer’s death. 
                    Although this is very early Finzi, signs of his mature style 
                    are already glimpsed. The first song, whose first line gives 
                    the cycle its title, is one of those quixotic poems Finzi 
                    liked, where the punchline suddenly overturns the cosy bucolic 
                    image. The protagonist is visiting the dead, in a graveyard 
                    “beyond where bustle ends”. Williams sings the last two lines 
                    of The Oxen in high half-voice, bringing an instant 
                    sophistication to an otherwise unexceptional song. In this 
                    cycle, the violin is as much a singer as the baritone, its 
                    long lines weaving in and out, indeed, introducing and ending 
                    the cycle. It punctuates Voices from things growing in 
                    a churchyard, helping differentiate the individual portraits: 
                    it makes a good counterpoint to the strophic lines or verse 
                    and setting. With the lightest of nuance, Williams whispers; 
                    “all day cheerily, all night eerily”, trite words, 
                    perhaps but he gives them dignity. Violin and viola embellish 
                    the vocal line in the final song, closing the cycle surprisingly 
                    well, hinting at the future.
                  Finzi’s 
                    style is more mature in the much loved Earth and Air and 
                    Rain. This has been recorded several times, but Williams 
                    will be the new benchmark. His voice is richer and his style 
                    more forthright, Burnside’s playing equally direct and clear. 
                    Their version of Waiting Both is the best I’ve heard. 
                    Burnside captures the famous Finzi “twinkling star” theme 
                    in sparkling half-tones: Williams capturing that curious but 
                    effective Finzi feel for emphasizing words in strange syntax 
                    “What do YOU mean to do, mean to do”. His voice is 
                    even richer and more beautiful in So I have fared, 
                    a song which can be impossibly coy with its latin refrain. 
                    His choral background makes the latin sound completely natural, 
                    like modern speech integrated with modern English. Yet Williams’s 
                    style is essentially beyond time and genre. His Lizbie Browne may be a Devon lass in Hardy’s imagination, but Williams makes us all identify with 
                    the feeling. He makes The Clock of the Years a dramatic 
                    story whose horror unfolds slowly. If Burnside’s tempi are 
                    a shade slow, they suit the mood. Indeed, in Proud 
                    Songsters, Burnside brings out the awkward alienness of young birds by following 
                    Finzi’s subtle discords and odd rhythm. It enhances the sense 
                    of strangeness Williams evokes, reminding the listener of 
                    the fragility of life, and indeed, of the mystery of new life 
                    itself. Already, here are hints of Finzi’s greatest masterpiece 
                    Dies Natalis, already in gestation at the time 
                    these songs were composed. 
                  It’s 
                    pertinent that this is followed by the songs in To a Poet 
                    that celebrate birth and youth. Indeed, Thomas Traherne’s 
                    Intrada is here in a vocal song which will become purely 
                    instrumental in Dies Natalis. Williams shapes the lines 
                    “Things strange, yet common, most high, yet plain” with 
                    the same otherworldly strangeness that marks the later cantata. 
                    Finzi’s setting of Walter de la Mare’s The Birthright 
                    is completely different, though the theme, too, is wonder 
                    at the miracle of birth. It’s warmer, more intimate, more 
                    human. The contrast is all the more reason, I think, to value 
                    the essentially spiritual fervour of Dies Natalis.
                  The Finzi Trust made this recording possible. 
                  For 
                    Finzi’s admirers, this will be an important addition, but 
                    it’s ideal, too, for those completely new to the genre, because 
                    Williams is so direct and natural.
                  Anne Ozorio 
                  See also related reviews:
                    http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2005/Aug05/finzi_songsJQ_8557644.htm
                    http://www.musicweb-international.com/SandH/2004/May-Aug04/weekend5.htm