My first encounter
with the music of Francis Pott came
through the superb CD by the vocal ensemble,
Tenebrae, also on the Signum label,
entitled ‘Mother and Child’. review
The two pieces included there alerted
me to a resourceful and eloquent composer,
an impression reinforced by subsequent
hearings of a few other works by him.
Now this outstanding new disc confirms
that judgement.
At the heart of the
programme is Pott’s a cappella Mass
in five parts. If that very title
didn’t tell you as much then the fact
that William Byrd is mentioned no less
than six times in the composer’s introductory
liner note confirms that the sixteenth-century
master has been a huge influence on
Pott’s music – another acknowledged
debt is to Kenneth Leighton. As Pott
writes "…it is to Byrd, that venerable,
artistically transcendent and yet vulnerably
human face of enduring Englishness that
I return…" In an inspired piece
of programme planning the Mass is not
sung straight through. Rather, other
pieces are placed strategically round
the movements. As Pott says, "the
dispersal [of the Mass] to various points
in the present programme alludes loosely
to one’s experience of the Mass in a
liturgical context while serving a plausible
purpose regarding tonal continuity between
successive tracks."
In fact, it’s not stretching
the point too much, I think, to imagine
that the various pieces of music on
this disc could all be heard in succession
as the music for a complete liturgical
service. If not that, then at the very
least the programme seems to me to work
outstandingly well as a sequence even
though all the pieces were composed
as stand-alone works. So, since they
work so well as a sequence I’ll comment
on the pieces in the order in which
they appear on the CD.
A Meditation,
an a capella setting of lines from Centuries
of Meditation by Thomas Traherne
(1637-1674) serves as a very beautiful
introit in this context. Pott makes
use of some gorgeous harmonies and the
choral textures are radiantly clear.
As we’ll find throughout the programme,
his responsiveness to words is natural
and compelling.
Turn our Captivity
is a setting of Psalm 126 for double
choir with organ accompaniment. It begins
in "mystical introspection",
to quote the composer. Much of the music
in the opening few minutes is quite
intense but eventually the music subsides
quietly. Then, at around 5:17, at "Then
said they among the heathen", comes
a much more agitated and dramatic section,
with jagged rhythms propelling the music
forward. The choral parts are very powerful
and the organ is imposing and fiery.
I did wonder at this point if the Dublin
choir was just a little under-resourced
on the top lines – there are only six
sopranos and four (female) altos, pitted
against eight tenors and six basses.
However, this climactic section is still
well done. Then, at around 8:50, at
the words "They that sow in tears
shall weep in joy" an extended,
quieter Epilogue starts to unfold, leading
up to a spacious and very lovely "Amen",
beginning at 10:50. This is a most impressive
piece of music.
Then we hear the Kyrie
and Gloria of the Mass. The Kyrie
is rarified and beautiful: the higher
voices sustain the central ‘Christe’.
The Gloria starts smoothly and calmly
but then becomes more vigorous and bouncy
at ‘Laudamus te’, a section that displays
no little polyphonic skill. From ‘Filius
Patris’ the music is gorgeously homophonic.
The closing pages, beginning at ‘Tu
solus altissimus’ are much more vigorous;
the music fairly dances.
Jesu Dulcis Memoria
is a beautiful little piece, encompassing
five verses of text. Each one is presented
differently, with a lovely soprano solo
– well taken here – the dominant feature
of the fifth verse. The whole piece
flows most convincingly, concluding
with a seraphic ‘Amen’.
The Introduction,
Toccata & Fugue for organ solo
is a most imposing creation. Pott makes
clear that it’s his homage to two French
composer-organists, Jehan Alain and
Maurice Duruflé. The Introduction
is powerful but only short, giving way
to the dazzling, busy Toccata. This
builds to a stirring climax after which
the quieter, more reflective ending
comes as something of a surprise. In
the Fugue, which is tracked separately,
Pott marries contrapuntal skill and
technical brilliance. I detected – or
I thought I did – several allusions
to Alain’s celebrated Litanies
in the final four minutes or so. The
last few pages, using the full resources
of the organ, are hugely impressive
and Tristan Russcher obtains some massive
sonorities from the cathedral’s organ.
He gives a quite superb account of the
whole work.
After this the quiet
dignity and purity of the Sanctus and
Benedictus provide an admirable and
refreshing contrast. The ‘Osanna’ dances
exuberantly.
For A Remembrance
Pott reverts to Traherne, setting
more lines from Centuries of
Meditation. He writes of this
piece "The music seeks to preserve
the sense of a quiet meditative centre
despite a few expansive moments, and
to maintain some consistency in its
deployment of polyphonic vocal freedom
against an organ part which remains
both discreet and discrete." The
result is a glowing piece that deeply
impressed me. It’s interesting, I think,
that in his note Pott mentions that
Gerald Finzi was another composer drawn
to set Traherne’s words. Although the
musical vocabulary and syntax of Finzi
and Pott are very different it seems
to me that A Remembrance inhabits
much the same territory of gentle ecstasy
that one encounters in much of Finzi’s
choral music, especially the sublime
Lo the Full, Final Sacrifice.
The Agnus Dei accounts
for about one third of the whole length
of the Mass in five parts. There’s
a gentle fervour to this music that
I find most rewarding. It’s perhaps
in this movement most of all that Pott
looks back across the span of the centuries
to Byrd. It’s lovely music and very
satisfying to hear – as, I imagine,
it must be to sing. The intricate strands
of polyphony interweave luminously,
especially at the very end. The last
few bars are wonderful.
Finally, as a tranquil
envoi, we hear O Lord, Support
us all the Day Long. Cardinal Newman’s
wonderful, consoling prayer is set to
music of touching simplicity. This is
an eloquent and truly moving little
piece.
So, some marvellous,
original and effective music by a composer
who genuinely has something to say.
The effect and impact of the music is
all the greater for having been gathered
into such a satisfying sequence. All
the music was written for particular
events or people and as Pott makes clear
in his note, several of the pieces have
deeply personal significance for him.
Though the music is often not overtly
emotional, as you hear it you feel it
is, nonetheless, written from the heart.
The performances are
splendid. The choir has been excellently
trained by Judy Martin and they sing
with precision, tonal beauty and complete
conviction. The sound quality is first
rate, as is the documentation.
I am impatient to hear
more of Francis Pott’s music, especially
his latest work, The Cloud
of Unknowing, written for the Vasari
Singers and premièred by them
only in May 2006. It’s excellent news
that the piece is to be recorded by
Signum next year. I can’t wait.
For now, this recording
will do very nicely and I hope it will
win a still wider audience for the music
of Francis Pott. This is likely to be
one of my Recordings of 2006 and I recommend
it with the greatest possible enthusiasm.
John Quinn
www.signumrecords.com
www.francispott.com
The Choir of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin/Judy
Martin, ^ Tristan Russcher. 
