The name of Henry du Mont has rested in the shadow cast by those giants of the French Baroque, Lully and Rameau, yet this ‘foreign’ composer (born near Liège in 1610) rose to the heights, directing Louis XIV’s chapel from 1663 to 1683.  Inspired by the Italian-style encountered in his Flemish upbringing, du Mont wrote numerous petits motets for two or three voices with instrumental parts and was one of the first to introduce basso continuo into French music. His other great contribution was to develop the grand motet, which pitted a petit choeur of soloists against a grand choeur and interleaved instrumental episodes in which many of the king’s famous string players featured.  Sébastien Daucé and Ensemble Correspondances give polished and empathetic performances of both forms of motets. Smaller works such as the heartfelt Sub Ombra Noctis Profundae allow solo voices, like that of bass, Nicolas Brooymans to display emotional range while larger works, in particular O Mysterium and Super Flumina Babylonis, brilliantly evoke the splendour of Louis’ court with voluptuous textures and elegant turns of musical phrase. Daucé’s forces communicate with energy, passion and precision. Engineering and presentation are of Harmonia Mundi’s usual high standard.

Every cloud, they say, has a silver lining. In the dark days of World War II, Cambridge was a bleak place; emptied of students and the famous windows of King’s College Chapel put in storage. Attempts were made to keep up appearances. Services in college chapels were more or less maintained, despite a dearth of adult male singers and college organists being called up. A middle-aged Herbert Howells was called upon to deputise at St. John’s College. Having weathered the death of his young son from meningitis and finding his style of music increasingly unfashionable, Howells found solace in university life. Amongst the supportive colleagues he found at Cambridge was the Dean of King’s, Eric Milner-White. He suggested that Howells should write some settings of the canticles for the college chapel. Taking up the challenge reinvigorated Howells’s composing career and gave Anglicans some of their most beloved 20th-century music. Howells eventually completed his music for King’s, setting all three choral services: Matins, Holy Communion and Evensong under the college’s Latin name.  One of the many advantages of this new recording is having all three services on the one disc. The evening canticles have been recorded countless times, but the other…

★★★★☆ An inspired and telling tale of two mediums: the opera and the circus. Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per month Subscribe Already a subscriber? Log in

How choristers radically transformed from medieval monks into globetrotting superstars. Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per month Subscribe Already a subscriber? Log in

At the centre of this engaging disc is a fresh and vibrant account of Janáček’s famous Glagolitic Mass, so named because the old church Slavonic text is written in Glagolitic characters, a precursor of Cyrillic script. This new recording enhances all the reasons why this work has remained a firm favourite with audiences since its premiere in 1927. The broad and colourful orchestral canvas (including a major part for organ) is vividly conveyed by the super audio engineering. Edward Gardner and his Bergen forces convincingly project the red-blooded and often emotional response to the text with well drilled orchestral playing and evocative singing by the chorus.  Another major contribution is made by Australian Heldentenor Stuart Skelton who delivers the challenging tenor solos with unflinching confidence and surety. Skelton is well complemented by the attractive voice of American soprano, Sara Jakubiak. Mezzo Susan Bickley and bass Gábor Bretz acquit themselves in the smaller roles with distinction. Thomas Trotter deploys the Rieger organ of Bergen cathedral with finesse, especially in his quasi-Bacchanalian seventh-movement solo. Filling out the programme are the orchestral Adagio (c.1890), the Zdrávas Maria (Ave Maria) from 1904 and Otče náš (Our Father) from 1901, revised five years later. These…

The Rite of Spring may have caused a riot, but this oratorio needed the police to keep the audience in order. Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per month Subscribe Already a subscriber? Log in

In a land where grim reapers are only too happy to cut down artistic tall poppies, it is marvellous to see Adelaide Chamber Singers flourishing.

Silvestrov’s choral pieces assimilate a wide variety of influences from Romantic and post-Romantic Western music, with the aim of creating a personal, other-worldly effect.

How gratifying it is to enjoy the fruits of this generation’s lively interest in the art song, and in particular, German lieder. Recently, Australian audiences have had the good fortune to soak up the superb artistry of Ian Bostridge and Florian Boesch, two of this era’s greatest singers. Nor should we forget that outstanding singing is only one side of the lieder equation. Splendid accompanists are also indispensable in consummating the marriage between text and music. Whilst current concert-hall performances of lieder undoubtedly bring huge musical rewards, they are obviously scaled to the performance space. With the piano often on full stick, singers are not afraid to calibrate their delivery accordingly. On the other hand, it is a pleasure to be reminded by Padmore and Bezuidenhout of lieder’s more intimate origins. The South African born fortepianist (who began his studies in Australia and is back here this year guest leading the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra) uses a sweet-toned instrument by Rosenberger from about 1820 that is the perfect complement to Padmore’s lyrical tenor. Together they explore the tentative beginnings of lieder through the works of Haydn and Mozart, amongst which we have some delightful floral references; Haydn choosing a forget-me-not and Mozart…

Thanks to its in-house recording system, the King’s College Choir is able to offer us a snapshot of its musical activities during the past academic year. As you would expect, the range of music in any season would be rather diverse, and so it is here. There is a central core of English fare: Tallis, Parsons, Parry and Vaughan Williams, but continental influences include Poulenc and Mendelssohn, whilst more recent music by Giles Swayne and Henryk Górecki is also included. Having listened to many recordings of this choir over the years, I was struck by the freshness and clarity of the sound that the current microphone placement delivers. This clarity, combined with the live nature of these performances, shows the choir (and its chapel’s famous acoustic) in a different light. Take, for example, Swayne’s Magnificat. A certain exuberance and spontaneity add to the choir’s customary technical precision. The result is a livelier and slightly less homogenous sound than some of the choir’s ‘studio’ recordings – this is no bad thing. Whether it be the intimacy of Poulenc’s Christmas motets, the intensity of Górecki’s Totus Tuus, the grandeur of Parry or the romanticism of Mendelssohn, there is a welcome vibrancy to…

A pioneering recording offers a fascinating window into the musical world of Henry VIII’s controversial second wife. Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per month Subscribe Already a subscriber? Log in

Recording of the Month – January/February 2016 How wonderful for an organisation to be celebrating 200 years of performing The Creation! Part One of Haydn’s masterpiece was performed in Boston on Christmas Day, 1815 by the Handel and Haydn Society to a rapt audience of about 1,000 people. It’s hard to imagine how the 13 instrumentalists on that occasion coped with Haydn’s colourful score and supported the chorus of 90 men and ten women, but the pioneering spirit of that performance has born lasting fruit: H+H is still going strong, as this excellent recording attests. Harry Christophers, the current Artistic Director of Boston’s Handel and Haydn Society eschews the ‘blockbuster’ approach of Paul McCreesh’s 2008 account and opts instead for medium-sized forces: a chorus of 42 accompanied by an orchestra of 47 that perform in Boston’s hallowed Symphony Hall. This means that tempi are on the whole slightly more flowing and less monumental, allowing some of the more intimate moments to shine through. Haydn’s English text has always been troublesome. Christophers adopts a less interventionist approach than McCreesh, with the happy result we still have some favourite turns of phrase: the “flexible tiger”, “with verdure clad” and “the wonder of his…