There is something in English renaissance music
for solo lute, which conjures up images of the utmost refinement.
This was the period when men could get away with wearing not
only stockings, but lots of lace and earrings, not to mention
the surfeit of pointed beards that overcame England for much
of Elizabeths reign. The music created in such an environment
had to fit in with the general air of cultured, and cultivated
confidence. The Lute, so self-contained and yet so capable of
polyphonic complexities and the subtlest emotional expression,
proved to be the perfect vehicle for the most noble artistic
thoughts of musicians during this golden age. Robert Dowland,
the son of the great John Dowland, published two of the most
important collections of lute music in England, both during
1610. A Musical Banquet was a song collection, while
in his Varietie of Lute Lessons, Dowland gathered together
some of the finest solo pieces by his famous father, and many
other composers of the era.
The quality of the music in the collection
is generally regarded as uniformly high. Here are some of the
greatest works of this subtle repertoire, mostly in dance forms
(the Pavane [or Pavin] and the Galliard being the most obvious,
but with a fair smattering of Almains, Corantos and Voltes [or
Volts] as well) but also including several abstract Fantasias
of which John Dowlands example is the most well known today.
(sample 1) It is unfortunate then that the performances on this
disc do not meet the same levels of refinement and elegance
that the music sets out to attain. David Parsons does have a
beard, but his performances suggest that it needs to be much
more pointy if he is to get the gentlemanly character of this
music across.
The Lute is an instrument capable not only
of refinement and subtlety, but of complex polyphony as well.
However, it is by no means easy to get these results with clarity,
and David Parsons makes that all too obvious. His performances
too often have that uncomfortable feeling that the mechanics
of playing the Lute are complicated. They may well be, but the
listener does not want to hear that. This, surely, is why we
pay to hear a professional rather than try to play the stuff
ourselves. It is the sense of rhythmic nonchalance that is most
conspicuously lacking. David Parsons manages to make the rhythms
of his polyphony stiff and awkward sounding (sample 2) especially
the frequent turn figures at cadences, which always seem to
take just slightly more time than they should, thereby adding
an unpleasant hiatus to the rhythmic flow. There is a difference
between rhythmic flexibility and rhythmic inaccuracy. There
are further numerous occasions where fret buzzes (caused when
the finger does not stop the string cleanly enough to stop the
vibration of the string against the fret) intrude into the music,
and too many passages that are just not in tune. (sample 3).
There are, admittedly, other places where there
is beauty and a certain elegance, notably in Dowlands Sir
John Smith, his Almain. However, given the advantages of
a modern recording session, with ample opportunity to repeat
passages that did not work, there is either a fault in the quality
of the producer here, or this was the best that the player could
produce. Given that this music is so subtle it relies on careful
listening, the end result is one that too often leaves the listener
feeling rather less than comfortable. It would be even worse
if wearing hose and scratchy lace as well.
Peter Wells