When, recently, I reviewed
the Virgin Veritas super-budget reissue of Monteverdi’s Vespers
(5
61662 2) and found that it stood up well to later competition,
I mentioned that those who purchased it might also wish to buy
this Hyperion Helios reissue as containing the other major work
from the 1610 collection, the Mass In illo tempore.
Please note that in that earlier review
I gave the wrong number for the Virgin set of the Vespers,
accidentally replacing the final 2 with the 6 from the end of
the full international number: the correct number is as given
here – profuse apologies to all who tried to order it by the
wrong number. Just for the record, the full number is 7243 5
61662 2 6 – and that is one of the shorter numbers current nowadays
– I wish the record companies would go back to the old letters
+ numbers system: it’s much easier to make mistakes with long
numbers.
Since the original issue
of this CD, Hyperion have gone on to record four CDs of Monteverdi’s
sacred works in a highly successful series of recordings with
the King’s Consort: of the works on this Helios CD, the 1650
4-part Mass is on CDA67438 (SACD version SACDA67438), Cantate
Domino on (SA)CDA67487, Domine, ne in furore on (SA)CDA67519
and In illo tempore with the Vespers on (SA)CDA67531/2.
The excellence of that enterprise – and of a further first-class
single CD entitled Monteverdi Sacred Choral Music on
CDA66021, a ‘rosette’ disc with Emma Kirkby et al – may
seem to have diminished the value of these versions by the Sixteen
but nothing could actually be further from the truth.
The music, the performances
and the recording still come up as fresh as paint. The presentation,
too, is up to Hyperion’s usual, high, scholarly standards – no
sense of cheeseparing for a bargain reissue (Two typos apart:
the opening work is consistently misprinted as Cantate Domine,
which makes no sense, and the opening words, “Cantate Domine
novum canticum, a benedicite nomen eius”, should
read “Cantate Domino canticum novum, et benedicite
nomen eius” – how wrong can you get it? The correct words and
score are available online.
The Hyperion catalogue and web-page, seeking to correct the error,
get it even more wrong with Cantate Dominum, which makes
even less sense. Alas, the decline in the classics has afflicted
even Hyperion now! Eheu mihi! Even my spell-checker is
in on the act – it corrects Cantate to Cantata when
I’m not looking. But whoever typed the text display on the recording
itself got it right!).
Monteverdi seems to have
compiled the 1610 collection as part of his CV (US readers:
resumé) for Venice and his duties as maestro di capella
at St Mark’s, Venice, would presumably have included the composition
of masses, but only three mass settings by him survive, of which
two are included here, plus a setting of the Gloria alone.
It may be, as the notes suggest, that the stricter rules laid
down by the Council of Trent for settings of the mass – one
note per syllable, for example – restricted the scope of polyphonic
composition to such an extent that composers began to look elsewhere,
to the motet, antiphon and vespers, for room to exercise their
talents in the new stile concertato (i.e. with instruments,
as opposed to the older a capella style.) Palestrina
managed to combine the polyphonic mass with the new rules, though
the legend attached to his Missa Papć Marcelli – that
it saved the day for polyphony when the Council of Trent considered
banning it – is almost certainly not true. Andrea Gabrieli,
too, wrote mass settings – Hyperion have recently reissued an
excellent performance of one, Pater peccavi, with other
works, on CDH55265,
recommended on Musicweb by Robert Hugill – but his nephew Giovanni,
Monteverdi’s older contemporary, wrote only movements of the
mass for St Mark’s, no complete settings.
For the same reason, English
composers after the Reformation largely failed to compose settings
of the Communion. Merbecke’s mediocre setting of the 1549 Prayer
Book, The Book of Common Prayer Noted, survived for many
years as the sole setting in general Anglican usage, with composers
concentrating instead on settings of mattins and evensong and
of the anthems sung at these services, especially after evensong
(In Quires and Places where they sing, here followeth the
Anthem, as the Prayer Book rubric quaintly puts it).
The Mass In illo tempore,
included in the 1610 collection, would have sounded rather old
fashioned – at least comparatively unadventurous – alongside
the much more dramatic Vespers of that collection. It
is not entirely clear what Monteverdi’s purpose was in composing
this work; it has even been suggested that it was an exercise
in emulating the great mass settings of the previous century.
Many of these settings employed the cantus firmus of
a motet (or even a secular song, as in the case of the various
English masses based on the Western Wind tune.) While
Monteverdi does not exactly employ the cantus firmus
technique, which normally assumes that the listener will recognise
the underlying theme, In illo tempore is based on a little-known
motet by Nicholas Gombert. Because the motet was virtually unknown,
the notes suggest, the motives from it which Monteverdi employs
are prominently stated at the beginning of the work.
I have seen this mass described
as a self-conscious display of compositional erudition and a
rather academic exercise; that makes it sound very dull indeed,
which it isn’t. It may be an unostentatious work, but it is
also beautiful. Perhaps that same reviewer had a change of heart
when his publication made the original Hyperion issue a Critics’
Choice later that year. I do agree with him, however, in stating
that it is doubtful whether this mass could ever receive a better
performance. Christophers’ tempi for this work are faster than
on the newer King’s Consort version – 28:24 against 32:24: the
Kyrie at 3:39 against 4:27 sets the tone for the whole
performance – but they never sound too fast: the music
is given plenty of time to breathe.
The four-part Mass was
first published seven years after Monteverdi’s death. Its date
of composition is unknown but it is highly probable that it
is at least later than In illo tempore. It is also a
more immediately appealing work to the modern listener, though
again much less dramatic than the Vespers. The shorter
pieces, too, are attractive and all the works on this CD receive
very convincing performances, well recorded in Hyperion’s usual
substitute for St Mark’s, All Hallows, Gospel Oak. Just one
small grouse: by my reckoning, the second Magnificat
from the 1610 collection could also have been included on this
CD.
If you are looking for
the blazing accompaniments which are such a feature of the 1610
Vespers, you will not find them here: the only (very discrete)
accompaniment is provided by the organ. (A capella doesn’t
necessarily mean totally unaccompanied.) But if you like
Palestrina, you’ll probably like these works. If in doubt, try
the 2˝ - minute Realplayer sample of the Sanctus from In
illo tempore on the Hyperion
website. The Benedictus from the King’s Consort version
is also available at that site.
If you really must have
the music of this period with an exciting instrumental accompaniment,
I firmly endorse Robert Hugill’s recommendation of the Gabrieli
Helios CD which I have named above. In fact, since some initial
disappointment with one of the first Helios reissues – Vaughan
Williams’ Mystical Songs and Tudor Portraits on
CDH55004 – I have not found one dud among the many CDs in this
series. I even have to recommend the Vaughan Williams as the only
current version at less than full price of the wonderfully robust
Tudor Portraits, but the excellent version at full price
on Chandos CHAN9593 with Dives and Lazarus is well worth
the extra.
Brian
Wilson