This is the third release in The Sixteen’s admirable exploration of Polish choral works and offers a sample of works by Grzegorz Gerwazy Gorczycki (c. 1665-1734) who lived almost all of his life in Kraków and was regarded as the outstanding composer of the Polish High Baroque. Little is known of his career before he was appointed Kapellmeister at Wawel Cathedral and all but 39 pieces from his output have been lost in the various conflagrations and upheavals that have plagued his nation. The programme opens with an arresting bugle call that promises grandeur and pomp to come but then proceeds through a selection of a cappella and vocal-instrumental pieces of increasingly soporific dullness. Gorczycki’s style was deeply conservative and even the concertante works seem 40 years out of date with few genuinely memorable ideas. The Mass in stile antico is workman-like with a few quirks in the writing that might be discerned by the attentive choral-scholar but will pass the average listener by. There are some sober beauties to be found in the Conductus Funebris and the concluding Litania de Providentia Divina so maybe this is a programme to dip into rather than wade through the whole. I cannot…

Finally, one of Britain’s finest ensembles tackles the final masterpiece of one of Britain’s finest composers. The results are, as you’d expect, spectacular. Henry Purcell left the semi-opera The Indian Queen unfinished at his death in 1695 and it fell to his brother Daniel to supply a happy ending of sorts in the form of The Masque of Hymen for the 1696 revival. Consequently, audiences would have heard less music at the work’s Theatre Royal premiere in 1695 than they would have in any of Purcell’s previous semi-operas such as The Fairy Queen, from which the present work borrows a dance (more recycling sees the inclusion of the overture from the ode Come Ye Sons of Art). But what the music might lack in quantity, it more than makes up for in quality. Purcell devoted every ounce of his skill and artistry to bring to life John Dryden and Sir Robert Howard’s convoluted play about the Mexican Queen Zempoalla’s war with the Montezuma-led Peruvians, and the airs, dances, duets, trios and choruses perfectly manifest those “Italian and French styles English’d” so typical of this English Orpheus. The recording opens with an amusing pre-show entertainment, Purcell’s satirical three-voice catch To all…

★★★★☆ Gold from the new world was not the only glittering commodity of Philip II’s Spain. Now at the height of its colonial power, the country also boasted spectacular music and art. Here Harry Christophers has harvested the choicest fruits of Francisco Guerrero and Alonso Lobo. These composers, master and disciple, were both in turn maestro di capilla of Seville Cathedral, then one of the grandest Christian structures in Europe.  Amongst the highlights is Lobo’s monumental motet Versa est in luctum, written for the funeral rites of King Philip himself. The singers reveal the plangent glories, singing with a wonderful mixture of imposing calm and expertly focused dissonance. Another funeral setting, Libera me, a Kyrie and two Marian motets attest to Lobo’s polyphonic mastery. Guerrero, Lobo’s teacher and himself a student of Cristóbal de Morales, was an intrepid character, having made a Holy Land pilgrimage during which he was twice captured by pirates! He was later briefly in debtors’ prison having spent too much publishing his music and memoirs. A 12-voice Duo seraphim, an eight-voice Laudate Dominum and the Credo from his Missa de la Batalla Escoutez stand out as examples of artistry.  The Sixteen once again demonstrate their profound…

One of the world's very finest choirs transports us to the gates of heaven.

Mark Morris, Anthony Minghella's Butterfly, Les Arts Florissants and The Sixteen top epic and intimate bill.

Harry Christophers’ current series of Palestrina recordings is very welcome. Given the esteem the composer is accorded not only by the Catholic church but by choristers the world over, it is very odd that there has been little sustained exploration of his output. Perhaps the sheer volume is daunting; with no fewer than 104 masses, let alone a vast corpus of other music besides. The latest instalment in The Sixteen’s cycle presents a Mass, a Magnificat and various other motets associated with the seasons of Advent and Christmas. In the middle of the program we are also given three of Palestrina’s settings from the Song of Songs. This generous selection is delivered with the group’s customary clarity and commitment, mirroring the counter-reformation ideals with which Palestrina is associated. Based on the motet of the same name, the Missa O magnum mysterium is an attractive five-voice work that shows great respect for the liturgical text, presenting sonorous and quietly fervent treatments of the Kyrie and Agnus Dei, while allowing Christmas joy to permeate the upbeat Osanna sections of the Sanctus and Benedictus. The Song of Songs has long had the notoriety of being the bible’s “naughty book”. Palestrina treated these erotic texts in a madrigalian…

Dating from the 1730s, Bach’s four short Mass settings are the red-headed stepchildren of his choral output. Several Bach scholars have actively belittled them as “mindless” (Philipp Spitta in the 19th century) and “quite nonsensical” (Albert Schweitzer). Moreover, they contain abundant recycling of cantata movements not always perfectly suited to their new Latin words. Still, now that they have attracted such significant directors as Konrad Junghänel (Harmonia Mundi) and Philippe Herreweghe (Virgin Classics), competition in this repertoire is quite tough. Harry Christophers uses just two voices per part, a practice inherently neither good nor bad. In churches, even one-voice-per-part choirs can often convey unexpected vigour. Yet too frequently in a recording context, a tiny choir necessitates damping down the orchestral contribution, neutralising genuine drama, as opposed to mere indiscriminate briskness. So here. Junghänel, with forces comparable in size, obtains a spectrum of vocal and instrumental colours to which Christophers seems indifferent, allowing his musicians, in comparison with these impressive rival versions, to sound unduly genteel. The appropriately robust horn-players briefly heard in BWV233 appear to have wandered in from a different and more impassioned performance.  Elsewhere, one might as well be listening to a robust Vivaldi opera as to anything…

Paving the way for the triumph of home-grown music over continental, Saul was presented in 1739 as part of a London season notable for the complete absence of Italian opera. It was a revolutionary work in many ways. It was the first English oratorio with a male lead; it was the longest English music theatre work to date; and it required larger forces than any theatre work previously performed in England. Harry Christophers delivers a highly charged, dramatic reading of the score, from the grand, ceremonial opening choruses, through the more intimate court settings, right up to the spooky scene where the Witch of Endor raises the spirit of Samuel. Listen to the sonorous use of three trombones (a German import in their day) in the battle music. Military kettledrums (which Handel borrowed from the Tower of London) enhance the famous Dead March. David’s ravishing harp solos and a specially commissioned carillon complete the novel line up and Christophers gives each its moment in the spotlight. Christopher Purves is Saul, a fine baritone and an even finer singing actor. His kingly descent through jealousy, fury and despair is meticulously mapped out with singing of enormous bite and panache. Although the…

There are only a handful of vocal ensembles in Australia equipped to give persuasive and informed performances of Renaissance liturgical music. This Sydney-based early music group certainly has the right choral credentials, having formed in 2009 after members took part in the Tallis Scholars Summer School program. The Parsons Affayre model themselves after that revered choir in English Catholic Renaissance repertoire; this latest disc follows a release devoted to the music of their namesake, Tudor composer Robert Parsons. The new album takes its title from the florid Stabat mater of William Cornysh (d 1523). It is one of the most impressive performances here: pure, soaring soprano lines, expertly balanced in counterpoint with the basses, maintain momentum through time changes. Inner voices, however, are less assured. Byrd’s famous motet Ave verum corpus is well controlled and casts an appropriately solemn mood, but might have benefited from more contrast and expansive shaping. His Infelix ego is sweet and airy in sustained soprano notes.  The basses are the stars of the darker-hued Tallis Lamentations of Jeremiah I. This reading opens rigidly but weaving polyphonic textures begin to bloom beautifully as the choir warms to the work. The plaintive, repeated cries of  “Jerusalem” towards…