The conventional view
of the Lawes brothers sees the older,
Henry, as achieving greatness as a writer
of songs and the younger, William, as
doing his best work in his instrumental
music. Certainly, any one who has listened
to top quality recordings of William’s
music for viols – such as those by Monica
Huggett and the The Greate Consort on
ASV Gaudeamus (ASV GAU 146 and 147),
Phantasm (Channel Classics CCS15698),
Hesperion XXI on Alia Vox (AV9823) or
by Fretwork (Virgin Classics 759021-2)
– will surely harbour no
doubts as to the power and inventiveness
of his work in that idiom. William’s
writing for voices has attracted less
attention; his achievement here is perhaps
rather more uneven – certainly less
consistently remarkable than that of
his brother – but there is much that
is skilled and enduringly enjoyable.
Gordon J. Callon’s 2002 edition of William’s
vocal music contains almost sixty solo
songs, almost seventy items he groups
as dialogues, partsongs and catches,
three verse anthems, more than forty
psalms and some music for masques. A
major source for William’s vocal music
is the manuscript collection in his
own hand (Add. MS. 31432) in the British
Library – which also possesses the remarkable
and splendid autograph folio of the
songs of his brother Henry (Add. MS.
53723). Apart from their musical value,
both are important sources for the texts
of English poets of the period.
I know of only one
other CD devoted to the vocal music
of William Lawes. That, called In
Loving Memory, was issued in 1995
on Musica Oscura (070972) and was also
the work of Anthony Rooley, with a later
incarnation of The Consort of Musicke
(though Emma Kirkby and Alan Wilson
contribute to both recordings). There
is little over lap between the two discs.
In the documentation
of this reissue a few things have gone
astray. ‘Cease, O cease ye jolly shepherds’,
Henry Lawes’ tribute to his brother,
killed at the siege of Chester in 1645
is attributed to John Jenkins, while
John Jenkins’ elegy for William Lawes,
beginning ‘Why in this shade of night’
is erroneously attributed to the dead
Lawes himself! I have made the necessary
corrections above. It should also be
mentioned that the words of ‘Charon,
O gentle Charon, let me wooe thee’ are
by Robert Herrick – a poet with whom
both brothers clearly had extensive
dealings.
Such details apart,
this is a thoroughly pleasant – and
instructive – listen. Emma Kirkby and
David Thomas are on particularly good
form and both the tenors make attractive
contributions, but nobody lets the side
down. Particular delights include ‘Musick,
the Master of Thy Art’ a ravishingly
mournful elegy for the organist John
Tompkins (1586-1638); the exquisite
interplay of voices in ‘Charon, o gentle
Charon’; the grave beauty of the setting
of Psalm 22. Lawes doesn’t have an especially
strong melodic gift, but he is carefully
responsive to the meaning and phrasing
of his texts, without ever indulging
in excessively crude word-painting.
It is good to welcome this recording
back into circulation. It still sounds
very well and no one with an interest
in the music of mid-seventeenth-century
England, music centred on the artistically
creative but ill-fated court of Charles
I, should miss the opportunity to snap
it up.
Glyn Pursglove