John Quinn’s
review
of this CD is a pretty full account of its context and contents, and
I find myself in agreement with what he says. I had already encountered
Gabriel Jackson’s music on CD way back in 2006, which would
make
this
one of my earliest reviews for MWI. It was already clear then that
Jackson’s compositional voice was the genuine article - deeply
personal and beautifully crafted, continuing a strong British tradition
while building a magnificently defined oeuvre which enriches that
tradition and keeps it vibrant and alive in our time. The alchemy
between superbly written choral music and that potent heritage of
Baltic vocal performing comes together in
A ship with
unfurled sails in a special way, making this one of those ‘must-have’
releases.
What is particularly striking with these pieces is their emotional
range. After the energetic
The Voice of the Bard which is a
tremendous kick-off, we are delivered a remarkable arc which takes
us from absolute calm to a climax of stunning intensity. The homophony
with which
O Doctor optime opens creates a fine frame for the
conclusion of this opening trilogy, its inspired conclusion a fitting
close to the first ‘act’, if that’s the way you
want to hear this nicely structured programme.
The
Missa Triueriensis or ‘Truro Mass’ is a fine
work which invites and deserves a great deal of affection, it’s
often multi-layered techniques creating an on-going sense of communication
to go along with some gorgeously expressive music. References to past
musical idioms appear in the plainchant moments of
Thomas, Jewel
of Canterbury, elements of simplicity which are given an impasto
treatment, with closely chasing canonic lines generating fields of
sound.
Sanctum est verum lumen is Jackson’s forty-part
homage to Tallis’s
Spem in alium. This has already appeared
on a Delphinium CD (see
review)
but this performance is an equally intriguing experience with plenty
of fine sounds, though the structural cohesion of the piece is hard
to trace amongst the elegant sufficiency of vocal effects.
The title track,
A ship with unfurled sails, is where the link
between the Baltic and the U.K.’s traditions link closest, with
its text by Doris Kaerva. This is a highly atmospheric piece, the
vocal undulations reflecting the gentle tides of the Baltic sea, even
if this isn’t the work’s main subject.
The final piece,
Ave regina caelorum, introduces us to a new
sonority of electric guitar. John Quinn had his doubts about this
piece, and I tend to agree. The electric guitar has been used in a
‘classical’ setting before of course, and composers such
as
Georges
Lentz have made attempts to establish it as a vehicle for expression
far removed from rock music. This is all well and good, but to my
ears the contrast between an angelic choir and a distortion pedal
is too angular for comfort. There are reasons why the collaboration
between Jan Garbarek’s saxophone and the Hilliard Ensemble (see
review)
is so popular. The sense of music’s ‘breath’ from,
say, organ pipes to the
bass
clarinet into something shared rather than coming from opposite
sides of the blanket is a quality which this kind of music seems to
demand. This
Ave regina caelorum has a conflicted, ‘revise
me’ quality which alas doesn’t do great things for the
rest of the disc, having as it does some lovely moments and others
which sound as if the recording session had been crashed by Bart Simpson.
The final track aside this remains a very fine disc indeed, and deserves
to sell in truckloads.
Dominy Clements
See also reivew by John
Quinn
