The William Cavendish of the title was Duke of Newcastle - an 
                artistic patron, Royalist Commander in the Civil War, and an exile 
                follower of the defeat of the King's cause. He was born in 1593 
			  and in 1648, eight years before his death, he took rooms in the 
			  house belonging to the painter Peter Paul Rubens in Antwerp. There 
			  he rose to a position of eminence in the arts as a knowledgeable 
			  and appreciative patron in the Low Countries. All branches 
			  benefited from his patronage - music, of course, but also painting and the 
                sciences and literature. 
              
He was referred to 
			  in Clarendon's The History of the Rebellion and the Civil 
                  Wars in England as "amorous in poetry and music, to which 
                  he indulged the greatest part of his time" - hence the title 
                  of this disc, though Parliament took a different view, calling 
                  him "one of Apollo's Whirligigs". 
                
Whether through 
                  personal acquaintance with the composers or through knowledge 
                  of their work or patronage, whereby he encouraged publication, 
                  Cavendish was an important figure. For example he'd met William 
                  Lawes in 1633. Matthew Locke set one of Cavendish's own songs, 
                  Oh the brave jolly gypsy from The Triumphant Widow, 
                  a reworking of his comic interlude A Pleasant and Merry Humour. 
                  Henry Lawes was attached to the house of Cavendish's son 
                  in law John Viscount Brackley. And Cavendish later often attended 
                  musical parties at the Antwerp home of Gaspar Duarte (1584-1653) 
                  a rich merchant whose daughter Leonora is represented here by 
                  a Sinfonia.
                
So, talented, influential 
                  but ultimately the backer of the losing side for the time at 
                  least, Cavendish's life in the Low Countries was one of considerable 
                  interest. It's this nexus between patron and the composers he 
                  admired and heard, which forms the focus of the disc performed 
                  in their usually adroit fashion by Concordia under Mark Levy.
                
Their impressive 
                  textures can be appreciated in the anonymous Daphne, 
				weaving and building in timbral complexity. They take a dramatic 
				and incisive view of Dowland's Pavan and deal excitingly 
                  with Nicholaes a Kempis's Symphonia. Here viol runs are florid 
                  and galvanising. John Jenkins's two instrumental pieces 
				celebrate the raising of the siege of Newark - Cavendish had been commander 
                  in chief of the northern forces and had himself placed a garrison 
                  there. The fact that four months later the royalists were crushed 
                  at Marston Moor doesn't lessen the intermittent gravity and 
                  freshness of these two elegantly woven pieces. 
                
William Lawes's 
                  Suite is one of the highest of the high peaks here, a work of 
                  dazzling beauty and compression, excellently realised. Peter 
                  Phillips's two pieces offer a constructive contrast - the slow 
				gravity of the Pavan and the cosy elegance of the Galliard. 
				Concordia are joined by soprano Angharad Gruffydd Jones for 
				several songs. Her voice has less of the beacon clarity of 
				certain early music practitioners and more of a healthy warmth 
				to it. It makes her approach to Sabbatini's work of some 
				interest. This sounds like Monteverdi and its melismas are 
				strongly brought off, even at the expense of a slightly hooty 
				quality to her voice. I was less taken by the approach of both 
				her and the instrumental group to one of the masterpieces of 
				English song, Lanier's No more shall meads. Slow though they are when 
                  Paul Agnew and Christopher Wilson play this on Metronome METCD1027 
                  one feels the expression intensely. Here Concordia and Jones 
                  are much, much quicker and whilst she's more vowel-interventionist, 
                  if I can put it that way, the sum total sounds to me less than 
                  the more placidly beautiful Agnew and Wilson.
                
Still, one wouldn't 
                  want to end carping. The recorded sound is excellent and I'm 
                  strongly indebted to Lynn Hulse's notes for biographical matters. 
                  There's plenty of variety here and quite some historical frisson 
                  as well.
                
Jonathan Woolf