Michel 
                Lambert is best known now for his airs, of which some three 
                hundred survive and this is reflected in his discography.  But 
                the maître de la musique de la chambre du roi – whose son-in-law 
                Lully was his superior in the royal household - also wrote two 
                Leçons de ténèbres twenty-five years apart. The first was 
                written in 1663 and the second, recorded here back in 1988, in 
                1689.
              
Both 
                sets of Leçons are rooted in the vocal techniques espoused 
                in the Airs and they were written to be sung by the same 
                singers of the Chambre du Roi. The singers were all intimates 
                of the composer – his sister-in-law Hilaire Dupuy was among them 
                – and Lambert is known to have accompanied on the theorbo. Lambert’s 
                settings are more austere and symmetrical than later composers  
                - Couperin, say, whose relative floridity of expression makes 
                these earlier settings sound restrained in expressive breadth. 
                But that of course is a false position to adopt. Lambert’s use 
                of the Roman tonus lamentationum chant and the limiting 
                of verbal flourishes to phrase endings generates a definable depth 
                of feeling, a spiritual depth, that suffuses alL the settings 
                that make up the second set of Leçons.
              
These 
                performances were recorded in the Abbaye de Royaumont in October 
                1988. They were made under the direction of Ivète Piveteau 
                who gathered around him a fine quartet of singers. The Première 
                Leçon du Mecredi Saint is one of the most static and reflective 
                of all, and is here sung by countertenor Charles Brett with plaintively 
                phrased assurance. His performance in the Première Leçon du 
                Jeudi Saint is perhaps more of an acquired taste – weirdly 
                effective in its almost disembodied estate. Nathalie Stutzmann 
                adds her by now distinctive voice to her settings – expressive 
                without undue ostentation and who negotiates the taxing demands 
                of Jersulam, convertere in the Deuxième Leçons 
                with distinction. She finds the right tone, weight and sense of 
                colour for the Nun of the Deuxième Leçon 
                du Jeudi Saint. The Troisième Leçons 
                du Mecredi Saint is entrusted to soprano Noémi Rime whose 
                voice preserves a strength missing in more vocally “white” performances. 
                She can however lighten the voice sensitively, which she takes 
                care to do in the Deuxième Leçon du Vendredi Saint – 
                listen to her singing of the setting of the Vau here.  
                Howard Crook’s soft-grained tenor and intelligent use of texts 
                is especially audible in the Troisième Leçon du Jeudi 
                Saint and this mellifluous fluency is one of the high 
                point of the two discs.
              
The accompaniment is vivid and sensitively 
                shaped, adding plangency and depth to the performances. This setting 
                of the 1689 Leçons is rare on disc and Lambert’s concentrated 
                and refined expression is matched by comparable performances.
              
Jonathan Woolf
                
                see also Review 
                by Mark Sealey