With this reissue 
                  of the classic recording Steven Isserlis made of The Protecting 
                  Veil, I now have the chance to compare it directly with 
                  a version on Telarc 
                  I looked at a while ago; that of I Fiamminghi with France Springuel 
                  as solo cellist. That recording, made in the vast acoustic of 
                  the Onze Liever Vrouw church in Gent, does have a rather magical 
                  aura, and as a production in its own right I would defend it 
                  against all comers. The Abbey Road Studio is a special space 
                  of a different kind, and it is the sheer waves of energy which 
                  the performers produce which generates the kind of results which 
                  made this a classic recording. Steven Isserlis is of course 
                  a superlative soloist, but France Springuel gives away very 
                  little in terms of style and technique. The Abbey Road recording 
                  gives more of a chamber music feel to the faux-medieval sounding 
                  passages in the second Nativity movement, and there is 
                  a feeling of closer intimacy with the sliding glissandi and 
                  parlando moments. This doesn’t necessarily translate into heightened 
                  impact in the louder sections, and it is here that the Belgian 
                  acoustic allows greater space for even the more laboured sections 
                  i the composition to breathe and develop. This is music which 
                  suits a large acoustic, and while it has its own effect in expanding 
                  the dimensions of the studio, I still admire the way the Telarc 
                  engineers preserve the sense of space in Gent without sacrificing 
                  too much in the way of detail. In the end, Steven Isserlis’s 
                  impassioned and articulately communicative solo in movements 
                  such as The Incarnation, and the genuinely mournful sounding 
                  solo of The Lament of the Mother of God at the Cross 
                  make the Virgin Classics recording extra special.
                
Genuine fans of 
                  this work should really have both versions, as the filler tracks 
                  are complementary, with a string orchestra version of The 
                  Last Sleep of The Virgin on Telarc, and Thrinos on 
                  the Virgin CD, oddly subtitled ‘Romance for violin and orchestra’ 
                  and given the wrong timing of 17:37 inside the booklet; no doubt 
                  a forgotten fag-end from a former release – someone hanging 
                  onto the format and forgetting to delete the line. This is a 
                  short piece for solo cello, and was written for Steven Isserlis. 
                  An ideal companion to The Protecting Veil, this is a 
                  slow, timeless threnody which contrasts to the impassioned playing 
                  with orchestra, but which continues in a liturgical vein, being 
                  more like a personal prayer after the public display of Veil.
                
              
Britten’s Cello 
                Suite No.3 might seem a strange choice to accompany these 
                works, but its content is not unconnected. It was written as a 
                tribute to the composer’s Russian friends Rostropovich and Shostakovich, 
                and uses three of the Russian folk songs previously arranged by 
                Tchaikovsky, plus the Russian Kontakion or Hymn for the 
                Departed. The music’s often contemplative and mournful character 
                is well in keeping with Tavener’s pieces, and while there are 
                of course the dedicatee Rostropovich’s own superlative recordings 
                of all of the cello suites available on Decca, Steven Isserlis 
                is a richly expressive advocate of this music. The sustain he 
                manages to get on those pizzicati is quite amazing, and the depth 
                in the recording stands witness to playing of remarkable projection 
                and weight. More than 15 years on, this is still very much a ‘must 
                have’ disc, and one of the mighty handful of those desert island 
                releases which can move the listener, and which still proves itself 
                to be a genuinely memorable listening experience.
                
                Dominy Clements