Showing posts with label Peter Phillips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Phillips. Show all posts

Friday, 4 November 2016

CD Reviews - November 2016

The Tallis Scholars, directed by Peter Phillips, are now on their sixth disc of Masses by Josquin des Prés (c.1440-1521).  There are question marks over the authenticity of both the masses on this current disc, the Missa Di dadi (The Dice Mass) and the Missa Une mousse de Biscaye, although Phillips argues Josquin’s case well in his detailed notes.  The reason for the inclusion of dice at various points in the score of the MIssa Di Dadi is uncertain, with some connection between the numbers on the dice and the note lengths of the cantus firmus, but not entirely consistent.  The appearance of something so secular seems unusual, but gambling was very popular in Milan at the time, where Josquin wrote the mass – was this Josquin’s joke, or a nod to a wealthy patron?  The composition uses a  ‘cantus firmus’ – a tune often drawn from other sources (on this occasion a chanson by Robert Morton) around which composition is based – and this is placed in the tenor part, at different speeds (hence the dice connection). The Missa Une mousse de Biscaye draws on a secular song, with French and Basque text, and the title means ‘A lass from Biscay’.  So two examples of Josquin taking secular material as the basis for his Mass settings, the latter potentially Josquin’s earliest setting.  Both the masses here are in just four parts, and The Tallis Scholars are pared down to just eight voices, with some sections being sung by solo voices.  As ever, the blended sound is pure and even, but the simpler structure of just four parts, and a maximum of eight singers makes for a plainer, clearer sound than sometimes their larger forces produce.  These are beautiful performances, and highlights include the Crucifixus in the Missa Di dadi, with its low, falling sequential lines at ‘simul adoratur’, building to an emphatic Amen.  This is followed by a gloriously reverent Sanctus.  In the Missa Une mousse de Biscaye, there is more rhythmic motion, and the melody is passed around the parts, creating a more fluid feel.  The settings are lower, without high soaring soprano lines, and the combined voices here create a beautifully rich blend.  Highly recommended. 



The Brodsky Quartet have returned with their second recording of Brahms with Chandos, this time pairing the String Quartet, Op. 51 No. 1 with the great Piano Quintet, Op. 34, for which they are joined by the Ukrainian pianist Natacha Kudritskaya.  Much has been written about how Brahms struggled to follow on from Beethoven in particular in relation to his symphonic output, but similar self-doubt applied to his writing for the string quartet, and it took him until 1873, aged 40 to publish his first two, the Op. 51 set.  He only composed one more string quartet, favouring instead other chamber genres such as quintets and sextets, of which the Piano Quintet is certainly up there as one of his chamber masterpieces.  The String Quartet, Op. 51 No. 1 is, however, a fine work, with Brahms in his tragic, C minor mode.  The second movement Romanze is particularly beautiful, and the Brodsky Quartet excels here with their warm tone.  Their outer movements could have more dramatic edge and drive, but they never fail to produce a beautiful sound, and their blend is flawless.  The Piano Quintet is mammoth, and began life as a string quintet, and then as a sonata for two pianos, before he settled on its final scoring.  The first movement is full of weighty turbulence, building right from the bare unison opening to its dramatic conclusion.  The slow movement is mostly calm, with occasional undercurrents of disturbed cross rhythms disturbing the stability.  The unsettling mood continues in the Scherzo, and the Finale’s anxious slow opening develops into a dramatically passionate conclusion.  Once again, the Brodskys produce a wonderfully blended sound, and the balance with Kudritskaya is sensitive, although I would have liked a little more power from the piano at times.  Overall, these are strong performances, full of warmth and body.  


Baroque violin specialist Johannes Pramsohler returns with his Ensemble Diderot with another great discovery, the Trio Sonatas of one Jean-Joseph Cassanéa de Mondonville (c.1711-1772).  The French composer was a highly renowned composer in his day, although not generally remembered today.  His Trio Sonatas, Op. 2 are beautiful examples of the genre, with an artful combination of the French and Italian styles of the time.  Each in four movements, there are graceful opening adagios, lively fugues, followed by graceful slow movements, topped off with lively rapid finales.  The instrumentation is of particular interest here.  Pramsohler argues convincingly that Mondonville specially intended that some of the second violin parts could be played by a flute, keeping these parts free of double stops and placing them generally higher than the first violin part.  However, he only did this is some of the sonatas, not all, so the argument is that Mondonville wasn’t just taking the common pragmatic and economic line to expand his market, but actually specifically thought about the scoring for flute in some of the sonatas.  To this end, The Ensemble Diderot plays Sonatas 3 and 5 with violin (Pramsohler) and flute (Kristen Huebner), and the rest with two violins, Roldán Bernabé taking the second violin part.  The ‘third’ part of the trio, the continuo is provided by cellist Gulrim Choi and Philippe Grisvard on harpsichord.  These are delightful sonatas, and despite Mondonville’s slight over fondness for long chains of sequential writing, there is nevertheless much variety in the relatively constrained structure.  So, for example, the fugue of No. 4 is spiky and angular, whereas the fugue in No. 2 has a much more of a focus on running lines passed between the two violin parts.  And in the finales, he contrasts a running, racing presto in No. 1 with a dancing allegro in three to close No. 2.  As ever, the Ensemble Diderot play with great precision and energy, and the blending of the two violin parts weaving in and out of each other is particularly impressive.  The change to flute and violin provides a welcome change of texture, and Huebner is suitably sprightly to match Pramsohler in the opening duet allegro to No. 5.  But the absolute highlight for me is the very first movement of No. 1, with wonderfully delicate trilling passed back and forth between the two violins, Pramsohler and Bernabé playing with exquisite perfection here.  This world premiere recording is a welcome addition to the Ensemble Diderot’s impressive and growing catalogue.

Monday, 16 November 2015

CD Reviews - November 2015


The Tallis Scholars, directed by Peter Phillips, have followed up their acclaimed 2013 release of music by John Taverner (c1490-1545) with a recording of his massive Missa Corona Spinea. Taverner was a huge influence on English composers who followed, including Tallis and Byrd, yet remarkably little is known about his life, and details about his compositions and musical appointments really only account for less than ten years of his life from 1524 to about 1530.  Yet eight masses and a number of motets and antiphons remain, and the importance of this composer in the development of English music cannot be overstated. His command of texture and form, combined with the ability to create a sense of serenity and clarity in his melodic lines is amply demonstrated in the Missa Corona Spinea.  Unlike in his other great work Missa Gloria tibi Trinitas, where the virtuosity required across the six parts is more or less equal, in the Missa Corona Spinea, it is the trebles (the top soprano line) who are the stars. Right from the opening bars they are soaring on top B flats, and stay up there pretty much throughout. Not only that, but there are two significant ‘gimell’ sections – this is where one part splits into two separate lines. So here, the two trebles (Janet Coxwell and Amy Haworth on amazing form) have incredibly intricate solo lines which weave in and out of each other, underpinned by a bass line. For the second gimell, Taverner complicates matters even more by splitting the mean voice (the next voice down) too, making this a double gimell.  The resulting virtuosic intricacy is amazing, and as ever, The Tallis Scholars relish this challenge, with the trebles in particular producing effortless, crystal clear lines above the rich sonorities of the lower voices.  Taverner further accentuates the soaring top line by scoring two bass parts at the bottom, adding to the richness of the fuller choral sections.  It is not known exactly what occasion Taverner composed this amazing work for, but there is speculation that none other than Cardinal Wolsey may have commissioned it, with Henry VIII possibly present at the first performance.  The scale of this single work, at nearly 48 minutes long, is immense, but it rewards concentrated listening. You can’t help being transported by those ringing top notes and the intensity of Taverner’s complex writing. The Tallis Scholars complete the disc with Taverner’s two settings of the Easter responsary Dum transisset Sabbatum. The first of these is better known, but it is great to hear them side-by-side. Despite using the same tenor chant line, they demonstrate the composer’s skill at producing strikingly different settings within the same construct.  The text describes the women arriving at Jesus’ tomb on Easter Sunday morning, and Taverner creates a sense of awe and wonder in both settings. A worthy end to another top-notch recording from The Tallis Scholars.





Cellist Pieter Wispelwey has been joined by pianist Paolo Giacometti for the first disc in a projected six disc cycle in which he plans to record all of Schubert and Brahms’ chamber duos – predominantly composed for other instruments than the cello. Why, you might ask? Well, as he argues, some works, such as Brahms’ Clarinet Sonatas, are regularly performed on other instruments – Brahms himself published versions of these for viola. And the famed ‘Arpeggione’ Sonata, usually performed on the cello, was, as discussed with Tasmin Little’s recent Schubert disc, composed for a now defunct guitar/cello hybrid. So why now explore these works with the different sonorities of the cello? Well on the basis of this opening disc, I would tentatively agree – although I think this works better with some works than others. The Fantasie that opens the disc, a late work composed by Schubert for violin and piano, combines virtuosity with some incredibly touching moments. The cello is not quite lithe enough for the most virtuosic moments here, and Wispelwey’s tone in the higher registers is more brittle than a violin produces. However, Wispelwey and Giacometti have great fun with the piece, and they bring a fresh angle to the work as a result.  The second of the aforementioned Clarinet Sonatas by Brahms fares better, with the instrument’s natural lyricism suiting Brahms’ beautifully smooth lines well – although again here when taken to the higher reaches of the instrument, the tone becomes a little dry.  The early Schubert Sonata works well, and Wispelwey and Giacometti bring out its light, engaging spirit well. Wispelwey separates the three duos with two movements from Solo Cello Suites by Max Reger (1873-1916) – highly Romantic works, despite their obvious nod to Bach, and convincingly performed here.



(These reviews first appeared in GScene, November 2015)

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

The Tallis Scholars - 2000 concerts and counting!

© Eric Richmond

The Tallis Scholars
Peter Phillips (Director)

Taverner (c.1490-1545):    Leroy Kyrie
Sheppard (1515-1558):  Missa Cantate

Gabriel Jackson (b.1962):  Ave Dei patria filia
Byrd (c.1539-1623): Infelix ego
Ye Sacred Muses
Tribue Domine

Encores:
Tallis (c.1505-1585):  Miserere nostri
Stanford (1852-1924):  The Blue Bird

St John's Smith Square, 21 September 2015

«««««

© Albert Roosenburg
2000 concerts in 42 years – an impressive statistic by any standard. The Tallis Scholars, now performing at a rate of roughly 100 concerts a year, with their founding director, Peter Phillips, chose to celebrate their 2000th concert in relatively low key style, compared with their gala 40th anniversary year concert at St Paul’s a couple of years ago. No expanded forces for Spem in Alium this time, but their more standard line-up of just 12 voices – a suitable way to celebrate such an achievement of such regular and consistent live performance, perhaps. However, three works from that concert appeared on tonight’s programme (although one as an encore), appropriately reflecting The Tallis Scholars’ repertoire with Renaissance polyphony combined with a contemporary choral work from Gabriel Jackson.

But the first half of their concert was dominated by a performance of the mammoth Missa Cantate by John Sheppard (1515-1558). Little is known about the detail of Sheppard’s life and music, which goes only some way to explaining why his wonderful music is not performed as often as Tallis or Byrd, say. One reason why the Missa Cantate in particular is not so often performed is the incredible stamina required to sustain a complete live performance. The Tallis Scholars wisely took short breathers between sections, yet even then, this is a pretty relentless challenge for just 12 voices, 2 to a part, with pretty much no let up.  Needless to say, The Tallis Scholars showed themselves more than up to this challenge however.

They preceded the mass with Taverner’s (c.1490-1545) Leroy Kyrie, so called as it is believed the tune may have been composed by King Henry IV or V. Immediately we heard The Tallis Scholars’ trademark smooth blend and bell-like high sopranos, setting the seen for the Missa Cantate to follow. In the opening Gloria, after the initial entries, Sheppard weaves the lower voices in and out in an almost hypnotic fashion, and the melismatic writing for tu solus (‘thou alone’) is exquisite, with more animation for cum Sancto Spiritu, and a glorious build to the Amen. Sheppard works his way through the Credo using the six voice parts in varied combinations, but also uses unexpected harmonic shifts (such as at ‘caelis’) to keep listeners and performers on their toes. Phillips and The Tallis Scholars managed the ebb and flow of the music within the overall arc of the whole mass with impressive ease, and the serenity of the Sanctus setting was contrasted well with the emphatic Hosannas, ending with a calming Agnus Dei, the lower voices particularly smooth and silky here. Having reached the end, Phillips and The Tallis Scholars deservedly enjoyed the sudden false relation and ‘blue’ notes Sheppard throws in towards the final cadence.

© Joel Garthwaite
The Tallis Scholars commissioned two works to celebrate their 40th anniversary, one from Eric Whitacre, and the other from Gabriel Jackson, and both were premièred at their anniversary concert at St Paul’s two years ago. Jackson’s Ave Dei patris filia opens with a joyful ‘Ave’, with all voices swooping in birdlike fashion. The use of repeated turns, particularly in the higher voices, is a striking feature throughout the work. There is limited use of overt dissonance, really only obvious in the Ave plena gracia section, and its economical use here is all the more effective for it, with bright soprano lines in a tight interplay. Jackson also frequently sets a melismatic soprano line against staccato rhythms in the other voices. These rhythms are particularly playful and bouncy in the penultimate Ave virgo feta section, which builds wonderfully to a return of the opening swooping for the final glorious praise and amen. It was great to hear this wonderful piece performed again, especially with the detail articulated in a slightly less challenging acoustic than St Paul’s.

The remainder of the programme focussed on Byrd, with two monumental votive antiphon motets that share a great deal in form and style, despite being composed some 15 or so years apart. The structure of both is comparable, with broadly similar shapes to their sections, and they share Byrd’s unusual choice of transposed Lydian mode. They ended with Tribue Domine, the earlier work, but first came Infelix ego.  The text for this is a contemplation on Psalm 50 by the Italian priest Savonarola, written shortly before his execution. Understandably full of anguish and penitence, it is ultimately a plea for mercy, and Byrd mixes hefty sections of homophonic writing against a variety of polyphonic writing for varied combinations of the 6 parts. Yet this is a subtle setting – after total despair and the question ‘Despair?’, the answer, ‘Absit’ (I shall not) turns the priest’s focus to seeking pity and mercy, and Byrd makes this distinction clear.  The opening section from The Tallis Scholars here could have perhaps had more anguish, but the increasingly insistent pleas for mercy had real intensity, before the music subsides back to a more subservient penitence for the final words.

Before Tribue Domine, came Ye Sacred Muses, Byrd’s heartfelt elegy to Tallis, following his death in 1585. The final words, ‘Tallis is dead, and music dies’ merit perhaps a little more emotion than on display here, but this was nonetheless a respectfully sensitive yet firm performance.

The Tallis Scholars then closed the programme with Tribue Domine. As with Infelix ego, Byrd makes much use of varied part writing, but also a variety of dynamic textures, with animated entries at the opening contrasting smoother overlapping falling lines at the end of the first section, for example. The Gloria section is substantial, and the build to the final Amen proved a fitting end to this well constructed programme. 

Not one but two encores followed – first the brief yet achingly exquisite Miserere nostri from Tallis, and then, slightly out of left-field, Stanford’s Victorian gem, The Blue Bird, with the two top sopranos beautifully blended on the solo line.


With no sign of their schedule letting up in any way, the concert tally will no doubt continue to rise indefinitely, but tonight’s concert will certainly stand out as a landmark on the way towards their next milestone.  Happy 2000th!