This collection opens with a setting of Psalm 23 which some 
                  will find an appropriate response to the comforting text and 
                  others will find sweet and indulgent. I think it’s fair 
                  to say that music like this, and word setting like this, with 
                  its rich scoring, added-note diatonic harmony and sudden enharmonic 
                  modulations, couldn’t have been written without the liberating 
                  influence of John Rutter over the last thirty years; this very 
                  piece might have been written by him. Much the same can be said 
                  about Stay With Me, Lord, where the composer skilfully 
                  exploits unison singing, phrase repetition, and rich scoring 
                  for strings, including short solos from section leaders. The 
                  Call of Wisdom was commissioned to celebrate the Queen’s 
                  Diamond Jubilee. It is accompanied by organ alone, though no 
                  organist is named. There are a couple of particularly fruity 
                  cadences just before the end. Man Unkind, an extract 
                  from an oratorio entitled St Cuthbert, features a certain 
                  amount of chromatic harmony, presumably to evoke the mystic 
                  elements in the text. My Lord Has Come is a really lovely 
                  unaccompanied carol that was included in the new volume of Carols 
                  for Choirs (OUP, 2010). That We May Love Again is, 
                  like the first piece on the disc, an extract from Todd’s 
                  Te Deum. 
                    
                  The Song of Songs has inspired many composers, and here, 
                  in the unaccompanied Vidi Speciosam, the Latin text encourages 
                  the composer to venture further into chromatic territory. The 
                  opening passage is extremely effective, with a particularly 
                  winning way of working its way to a bare fifth or octave via 
                  a series of highly surprising chromatic chords. This works well 
                  enough to make the listener wish the composer would stretch 
                  his tonal wings further and more often, especially since the 
                  remainder of the work returns to diatonic dissonance reminiscent 
                  of Morten Lauridsen, but without, to my ears at least, that 
                  composer’s individuality of voice. I rather fear that 
                  this is my reaction to the collection as a whole. 
                    
                  The longest work on the disc is Among Angels, for choir 
                  and harp, composed for The Sixteen and first performed by them 
                  in Salzburg in 2006. The work was composed to a commission from 
                  the Genesis Foundation, and the booklet devotes a page to the 
                  composer’s introduction to this foundation and his gratitude 
                  to them for their support. A quick internet search establishes 
                  that this charity, created in 2001 by American banker John Studzinski 
                  - personally acknowledged in Will Todd’s note - “supports 
                  and nurtures young and emerging artists” in “music, 
                  theatre, dance and the visual arts”. The words of Among 
                  Angels - there aren’t many of them - are by Ben Dunwell, 
                  and seem to be angel-related. The music contains some truly 
                  ravishing noises, plus a few frankly clunky key changes and 
                  cadences. The composer is clearly in sympathy with the sentiments 
                  expressed, but I find them, slim though they are, insufferable. 
                  The first five minutes of the work comprise a setting of the 
                  words “Fear not you the dark,/We carry you on soft wide 
                  wings.” 
                    
                  The organ-accompanied You Have Seen the House Built is 
                  the most dissonant work in the collection, a setting of words 
                  by T. S. Eliot more or less appropriate for a work celebrating 
                  the 900th anniversary of Chichester Cathedral. The words hardly 
                  call for musical setting, and Todd’s music doesn’t 
                  really fuse with them in any real sense. The work is austere 
                  and overwrought, and the dissonances, including one particularly 
                  dramatic one in the closing cadence, seem pasted in for effect. 
                  The composer seems much more at ease in the final piece, I 
                  Sing Because… for choir and jazz trio. This lovely, 
                  relaxed music draws you in and gives real pleasure, albeit with 
                  barely a trace of the melancholy that is surely present in the 
                  words. 
                    
                  The composer writes his own introduction to each piece in the 
                  booklet, and sung texts are provided. The disc is sumptuously 
                  recorded and, as you might expect from Tenebrae, sumptuously 
                  sung. The English Chamber Orchestra, and the individual players 
                  when the piece requires it, are excellent, though they are given 
                  little opportunity to shine. The whole is impeccably conducted 
                  by Nigel Short. 
                    
                  I perceive much, though not all, of this music as cloyingly 
                  sweet, but it is superbly done here, and if you like that kind 
                  of thing, this is without a doubt the kind of thing you’ll 
                  like. 
                    
                  William Hedley