«Gloriosa música al...» | Crítica, para Codalario, del último disco de Stilo Antico

Gloriosa música al servicio de emperadores

El fantástico conjunto británico nos propone este viaje por la música que algunos de los más grandes compositores del Renacimiento compusieron estando al servicio de los Habsburgo, firmando uno de los mejores discos vocales del pasado año.

From the Imperial Court. Music for the House of Hapsburg. Música de Josquin des Prez, Heinrich Isaac, Pierre de la Rue, Ludwig Senfl, Nicolas Gombert, Cristóbal de Morales, Thomas Crecquillon, Thomas Tallis, Jacob Clemens Non Papa y Alonso Lobo. Stile Antico. Harmonia Mundi | Production USA, 1 CD [HMU 807595], 2014. T.T.: 71:07.

   

   La música, especialmente la sacra, aunque también la profana, y sobre todo aquella creada antes de que el siglo XIX trajera consigo la emancipación del compositor como asalariado y miembro de la plantilla de una casa real o institución religiosa, nos ha legado una gran parte de obras compuestas con un fin específico, bien fuera de corte real o religioso. En cierto que las instituciones religiosas y las casas reales son las causantes de la práctica totalidad de la creación musical en siglos pretéritos. El Renacimiento es probablemente el caso más paradigmático. Es por ello que resulta bastante habitual encontrar registros discográficos que reparan en la creación amparada al auspicio de una casa real dada o de una institución clerical de este o aquel lugar.

   Dentro de las casas reales, sin duda la de los Habsburgo es uno de las más celebradas, puesto que por su importancia en toda Europa la hizo extenderse de manera impresionante por gran parte del territorio europeo, en el que reinó durante varios siglos –nada menos que desde el siglo XI hasta 1918 dependiendo de los territorios–. Esto la hace especialmente idónea para un registro discográfico de estas características, pues por sus distintas pasaron muchos de los mejores compositores del momento en la Europa del Renacimiento.

   Uno de los grandes exponentes de la Casa de los Habsburgo fue Maximilian I, emperador del Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico desde 1486 hasta 1519. Por su corte pasaron algunos de los grandes maestros del momento. Quizá el de mayor importancia fue Heinric Isaac [c. 1450-1517], uno de los grandes maestros franco-flamenco, sin duda a la altura de los grandes como Pierre de la Rue, Alexander Agricola, Jacob Obrecht e incluso en parte a la de Josquin Des Prez. De él se interpreta aquí su hermoso y monumental motete Virgo prudentissima a 6, claro ejemplo de la composición ex profeso para la corte, pues se creó en 1507 para el Reichstag que confirmaba a Maximilian I como emperador del Sacro Imperio.

   Otro de los grandes autores ya mencionados es Pierre de la Rue [1460-1518], quien fuera miembro de la Grande Chapelle de la corte borgoñona, que por aquel entonces mantenía la regencia de Felipe I de Castilla. Absalon fili mi a 4 es una obra sobre cuya autoría se lleva años transitando entre la figura de Des Prez y la de de la Rue. Finalmente parece que este último es el candidato más defendido para ser el autor de este subyugante y emocionante motete, uno de los mejores ejemplos de motetes sobre temas luctuosos y de lamentos de todo el Renacimiento, que parece haberse compuesto en 1506 con la muerte precisamente del propio Felipe I.

   Otro de los grandes compositores franco-flamencos que trabajó para Maximilian I fue Ludwig Senfl [c. 1486-c. 1543], compositor suizo de nacimiento y alumno de Isaac, que ayudó a desarrollar de manera fundamental algunos géneros vocales profanos como el lied. Para la muerte del emperador en 1519 compuso su maravilloso Quis dabit oculis a 4, con gran carga expresiva y una belleza desgarradora.

   Otro de las grandes figuras en la Casa de los Habsburgo es la del emperador Carlos –I de España y V de Alemania, como nos obligaban a repetir en la escuela–. En su afamada Grande Chapelle o Capilla Flamenca –como también se la conocía– trabajaron varios de los mejores talentos musicales. Uno de estos era Nicolas Gombert [c. 1495-c. 1560], que fue cantor de la capilla desde 1526 y maestro de los niños cantores desde 1529. Precisamente por abusar de uno de estos infantes fue condenado a galeras, aunque fue perdonado al componer para el emperador sus cantos del cisne, en probable referencia a sus últimas composiciones sobre el Magnificat. Aquí se interpreta su Magnificat primi toni a 4, magnífica pieza en la contrae y expande la polifonía a su antojo con gran maestría, con secciones a 3 y un esplendoroso final a 6. De él se registra su composición a 6 sobre la célebre chanson Mille regretz a 4, denominada como La canción del emperador por decirse que era la favorita de Carlos V. Gombert amplia de manera realmente hermosa las cuatro partes originales a seis, convirtiendo así la sencilla composición original en una magnífica obra de densa textura y un refinado contrapunto. La chanson original, obra del gran Josquin des Prez [c. 1440-1521], es un dechado de elegancia y delicadeza, en la que muestra su genialidad el construir una de las obras profanas más geniales de toda la historia de la música sobre un material realmente sencillo. Es por eso que demuestra que es probablemente el autor más grande de todos los franco-flamencos, al que sin duda admiraban y que fue inspiración para la gran parte de ellos.

   Un ejemplo excelente que aúna el encargo de una obra a medio camino entre lo real y lo religioso es el motete celebrativo Jubilate Deo omnis terra a 6, que Cristóbal de Morales [c. 1500-1553] compuso en 1538 por encargo de su patrón, el Papa Pablo III para conmemorar la paz firmada ese mismo año por Carlos V y François I. Un excelente motete bipartito, que una interesante mezcla de material exultante con más reflexivo, que utiliza como cantus firmus el incipit del canto Gaudeamus omnes in Domino.

   Otro motete festivo es Andreas Christi famulus a 8, compuesto por Thomas Crecquillon [c. 1505-1557] –gran maestro franco-flamenco que desarrolló buena parte de su carrera en la capilla de Carlos V– en 1546 para una reunión de la Orden del Toisón de Oro, de la que el emperador era miembro. Un motete extraordinario si nos atenemos a su compleja construcción, armónicamente muy rica y con recurrente uso de falsas relaciones.

   Carole magnus eras a 5 fue compuesto por otro de los mejores franco-flamencos, Jacob Clement [c. 1510-c. 1555], conocido como Clemens non Papa a raíz de aparecer mencionado en una edición de Tilman Susato como Clement non Papa, una obra para distinguirlo del Papa Clemente. Motete compuesto probablemente tres años después de la promulgación de la Pragmática Sanción de 1549, la cual determinaba que las 27 provincias de los Países Bajos pasaban a ser propiedad de su hijo Felipe II. Se trata de un texto latino pero con texto profano, aunque su construcción musical se corresponde de manera fiel a la de un motete sacro.

   Aunque lejos de las tierras de dominio Habsburgo, Inglaterra estuvo relacionada de manera directo con la dinastía, entro otras cosas porque Felipe II contrajo matrimonio en 1554 con Mary I. Es por eso que se añade aquí una obra del maestro inglés Thomas Tallis [c. 1505-1585], uno de los grandes compositores británicos de la historia. Su motete Loquebantur variis linguis a 7 no tiene una conexión directa con el monarca, aunque se defiende que es una de las pocas piezas que fueran compuestas para ser interpretadas en conjunto por la Capilla Flamenca y la Chapel Royal de la reina Mary. Pieza inusual por su plantilla, muestra la capacidad de Tallis para condensar una densa textura contrapuntística en una refinada tela polifónica claramente inteligible.

   Alonso Lobo [1555-1617] es sin duda uno de los grandes maestros entre la pléyade geniales polifonistas hispánicos de los siglos XV y XVI. Su delicado y fascinante motete Versa est in luctum a 6 fue compuesto en 1598 para las exequias de Felipe II, suponiendo sin duda su gran legado al monarca, que musicaliza uno de los textos luctuosos más hermosos sobre los que de manera recurrente pusieron música los maestros hispánicos.

   Se trata, pues, de un registro que aglutina algunas de las composiciones más hermosas de los siglos XV y XVI, lo que per se es ya razón suficiente para adquirirlo y escucharlo en momentos de reflexión, calma y sosiego. Pero es que además está interpretado por Stile Antico, ensemble británico que desde hace años se encuentra entre lo más granado de la interpretación de polifonía renacentista en el mundo. Su calidad vocal fuera de toda duda, su capacidad para acometer lecturas repletas de rigor, con una afinación, sonoridad y equilibrio dignos del mejor British sound, del que son garantes desde hace diez años, sin duda les coloca, por méritos propios, a la altura de los mejores conjuntos especializados a nivel mundial. Destaca especialmente su capacidad de conjunto, puesto que llevan prácticamente desde su fundación con la misma plantilla, lo que les convierte en un excelso ejemplo del feedback anhelado por cualquier conjunto de estas características. Además, lejos de esa visión estática y fría que algunos achacan a ciertos conjuntos británicos, estos jóvenes resultan tremendamente expresivos, vehementes, elocuentes y evocadores. Han sabido conseguir la alquimia perfecta para hacernos llegar composiciones de tan exquisita belleza y tan imponente hondura, como son estas, de la mejor manera imaginable.

   Por lo demás, el compacto es un ejemplo del savoir faire de Harmonia Mundi, que de manera realmente inteligente apostó por este joven conjunto hace ya diez años, y que ha ido editando todos sus discos desde entonces –su discografía actual consta de nueve álbumes, a cada cual mejor–. El álbum presenta un diseño maravilloso, elegante y vistoso, repleto de imágenes en color de algunos de los monarcas y cuadros relacionados con estos, obras de grandes artistas del Renacimiento europeo. Las notas al programa, obra del cantor Matthew O’Donovan, son realmente ilustrativas e interesantes. Además, la toma de sonido resulta absolutamente límpida, nítida y consigue un equilibrio admirable. Gran trabajo el de Brad Michel en este sentido, y por supuesto el de Robina G. Young como productora habitual de los discos bajo el subsello Production USA de la casa francesa.

   Estamos, a todas las luces, ante un disco esplendoroso. Cualquier apasionado de la polifonía renacentista debe tenerlo en sus anaqueles, porque encontrar tanta belleza compositiva y calidad interpretativa en un espacio tan pequeño es difícil actualmente. Un lujo 100%.

Publicado en Codalario el 05-VI-2015.

The Choir Project al día | 14-II-2015

William Cornysh [c. 1465-1523]: Woefully arrayed à 4.  
Stile Antico.
Secular with sacred inspiration.

     David Greer wrote about Cornysh:
«Composer, poet, dramatist and actor, who may have been the son of William Cornysh. This relationship has not been proved, nor is there complete certainty of identity in some of the references to ‘Cornysh’ in the royal accounts and elsewhere. Only the compiler of the Fayrfax Manuscript [GB-Lbl Add.5465] took care to avoid confusion by ascribing three pieces there to ‘William Cornyssh Junior’.

     It was probably this Cornysh who received several payments for his part in court entertainments from 1493 onwards. The first was on 12 November 1493 ‘for a prophecy’, followed by payment for playing the part of St George in the Twelfth Night revels of 1494. In 1501 a Cornysh devised pageants and ‘disguysings’ for the wedding festivities of Arthur, Prince of Wales, and Catherine of Aragon, and it was probably the same man who received payment ‘for setting of a Carrall’ on Christmas Day 1502.

     In 1504 he was imprisoned in the Fleet, and while in prison he wrote a poem entitled A Treatise bitwene Trouth and Enformacion [GB-Lbl Roy.18.D.11; ed. E. Flügel, Anglia, xiv, 1892, 466–71] which is superscribed ‘In the Fleete made by me William Cornysshe otherwyse called Nysshewhete, chapelman with the moost famost kyng Henry the vijth’. His alias is clearly made up of the last syllable of his name and ‘whete’ for ‘corn’. The treatise, written in seven-line stanzas of rhyme royal, consists of four introductory verses which complain how a man may be convicted by false information, followed by A Parable betwene Enformacion and Musike, which argues that the author had been wrongfully accused. The poem makes elaborate use of musical terms. It is not known for what offence he was sent to the Fleet; the common assertion that it was for a satire against the unpopular Sir William Empson is based on a misreading of a passage in Stow's Annales.

     As a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal Cornysh was present at the interment of Henry VII, the coronation of Henry VIII [both in 1509] and the burial of Prince Henry in 1511. On 29 September 1509 he became Master of the Children of the Chapel Royal in succession to William Newark, for whom he had deputized earlier; he held this post until his death. In this capacity he was responsible for the music performed in the chapel, and on two occasions in April 1515 he administered payments to visiting musicians who performed during the services there. He was also responsible for the education and general welfare of the choristers. Between 1509 and 1517 several royal choristers [including William Saunders and Robert Philips] boarded with Cornysh, and it appears from the monthly payments that from June 1517 all the choristers boarded with him. He is mentioned in an exchange of letters dating from 1518 between Richard Pace, the king's secretary, and Cardinal Wolsey concerning a chorister that the king had borrowed from the cardinal's chapel for his own; Cornysh was told that he must treat the boy well, ‘otherwise than he doth his own’ [Brewer, nos.4024–5, 4043–4, 4053–6]. At the same time he maintained connections with Westminster Abbey, as William Cornysh (i) had done: from 1517 to 1520 he leased accommodation from the Abbey, and for the feast of St Edward in 1522 he instructed the choristers of the Lady Chapel.

      From 1509 Cornysh was the leading light in the plays and entertainments that enlivened court life. It is unfortunate that none of his dramatic writings survives [the ‘fantastic attributions’ of Wallace were commented on by Chambers], but some of the plays in which he took part are known, among them The Golden Arbour [1511], The Dangerous Fortress [1514] and the [Triumph of Love and Beauty [1514]. Two of the main actors besides Cornysh were William Crane and John Kite, and these three are mentioned in a poem by Alexander Barclay [quoted by Stevens]:

All this may courtiers in court ofte times heare,
And also songes oftimes swete and cleare.
The birde of Cornwalle, the Crane and the Kite
And mo other like to heare is great delite,
Warbling their tunes at pleasour and at will,
Though some be busy that therin have no skill.

      Cornysh and Kite were also listed as visiting musicians at St Mary-at-Hill in 1510–11 [see Baillie, 1962].

     In September 1513 Cornysh took the Chapel Royal to France in the retinue of Henry VIII, and their performances won great favour. In June 1520 he was again across the Channel, to supervise the Chapel Royal's ceremonies at the field of the Cloth of Gold: he was in charge of the pageants on the Sunday night, and received payment for the maintenance of ten choristers from 29 May to 22 July. In 1522 the Emperor Charles V visited England to cement an alliance with Henry VIII against the French, and on 15 June the court was entertained with a play by Cornysh which outlined in simple allegory the progress of the negotiations and the expected outcome. The play is described in a letter written on 21 June 1522 by Martin de Salinas, ambassador of the Archduke Ferdinand.

     Various import and export licences that Cornysh was formerly thought to have received [see Pine] were in fact awarded to his successor William Crane. On 20 August 1523 Cornysh was granted the manor of Hylden in Kent. All that is known of his domestic life is that his wife's name was Jane and that he had a son called Henry. His will, made in January 1512, was executed on 14 October 1523. He was buried in the ‘Roode’ church of East Greenwich.

    William Cornysh made a notable contribution to the repertory of the secular partsong, which flourished in the reign of Henry VIII. Many of these show the influence of the medieval carol, with its verses and burdens. Woffully araid has three verses with a burden that is given in full at the beginning and end but is shortened between the verses. Yow and I and Amyas is simple and chordal. A robyn is a three-part canon, and My love sche morneth is canonic in its two lower parts. These two pieces, like some other partsongs in this repertory, seem to incorporate elements of pre-existing melodies. Of the instrumental pieces, Fa la sol is long and intricate, and the untitled piece seems to be a catholicon, that is, designed to be perfomed in different modes. Its bass part is constructed like a palindrome, pivoting at bars 15 and 25.

     A number of impressive sacred works are ascribed in other sources to a composer named Cornysh. In addition, there are works now lost that are attributed to someone of this name: an antiphon Altissimi potentia [NOHM, iii, 1960, p.318, n.2]; a Magnificat, a Stabat mater and a five-part antiphon Ad te purissima virgo [formerly in the Eton Choirbook, GB-WRec 178] and some masses listed in a 1529 inventory of King's College, Cambridge [HarrisonMMB, appx iv]. The name ‘Cornysh’ was entered in small writing at the end of several works, including three masses, in the Lambeth Choirbook [GB-Llp 1], but the significance of this is not known. In the extant Eton Choirbook pieces the style ranges from the flamboyance of the surviving Stabat mater to the simple eloquence of the Ave Maria mater Dei. The surviving Magnificat is also extremely florid in places and encompasses an unusually wide range, from C to g''. It has been suggested that the sacred works are the work of William Cornysh (i) rather than the younger man [see Skinner, 1997]. If indeed they are by William Cornysh (ii), however, then he was a composer of great emotional and technical range; whichever the case, the younger Cornysh's versatility as poet, dramatist, ‘player’ and composer reveals him to be a true man of the Renaissance.»

     Matthew O'Donovan said:
«One of the leading English composers around the turn of the sixteenth century was William Cornysh, some of whose chucruch music is preserved in the Eton Choirbook. Woefully arrayed, however, is not church music, but rather a devotional 'carol' intended for domestic performance, and as such is more economical in word-setting, simpler in texture and less ornate than Cornysh's large-scale antiphons. What is striking, however, is the care shown in conveying the text; although textual engagement has by no means reached baroque levels of sophistication, this piece is laden with affective gestures to convey the meaning, while occasional phrases receive particularly vivid word-painting [such as the alternating back and forth between two chord on the words 'tugged to and fro'.]»

For me, this piece has one of the most unique and interesting beginings of the English Renaissance, with the incredible amazing and ornament tenor phrase and the impressive duet with the bass. This piece is absolutely evocative. Stile Antico perform here with stunning sonority, pitch and balance. For me this probably the best version has been recorded. Passion & Resurrection is one of the best albums in the discography, one of the best discographies for one of the best vocal ensembles in the world.

The Choir Project al día | 18-X-2014

William Byrd [c. 1540-1623]: O salutaris hostia á 4 | Gradualia ac cantiones sacrae, 3-5vv [London, 1605].
Stile Antico • Fretwork.
Rejoicing for voices and viols.

  David Skinner wrote about Byrd's Gradualia:
«As the reign of Elizabeth I symbolizes the Renaissance of English humanism and the stability of English culture, so William Byrd, in his assimilation of musical ideas past and present, represents the technical and emotional refinement of the music of the Latin church. However, we are presented here with a curious paradox, for Byrd lived at a time when music for the Latin rite was outmoded, its creation and promul­gation considered dangerous in the hothouse of Elizabethan church politics. England’s Golden Age of polyphony under the earlier Tudors could boast some of the finest composers in Europe, who had thrived within a musical tradition unbroken until the introduction of Protestant ordinances in the mid 1530s and 1540s. As a boy Byrd came to know intimately the liturgy of the pre-Reformation English church, knowledge which must have left a lasting impression on his later musical character as a recusant Catholic. (The general assumption that the composer was born in 1543 has been disproved thanks to ground-breaking scholarship of recent years. Byrd was significantly older when he died than had been previously thought, a finding which invites a complete reassessment of his life and the context of his works.) Apart from Mary I’s brief Catholic revival in the 1550s, elaborate music-making exemp­lified in the great surviving pre-Reformation choirbooks such as Eton, Lambeth and Caius was banned from all English churches, collegiate and monastic; by the end of the 1540s, and with the death of Henry VIII, Latin church music was replaced by a simplified vernacular version of the liturgy, and the English anthem and service were born.

  It has been a great concern of scholars to account for the prodigious number of Byrd’s surviving Latin works when, by Elizabeth’s own proclamations, it would have been illegal to perform them in his own time. However, Elizabeth herself was an accomplished musician who held deep Catholic sentiments and Byrd was indeed among her favourite musicians. Byrd studied under Tallis and would doubtless have been familiar with the works of a number of pre-Reformation composers such as Cornysh and Fayrfax; he probably also had regular access to his patron John Lord Lumley’s extensive collection of printed foreign editions at Nonesuch Palace from which to gain new ideas. As, then, the most promising composer England could boast it is perhaps fair to suggest that Elizabeth was quite happy to grant him unlimited freedom of musical expression. In 1575 Byrd, with Tallis, gained a monopoly on music printing in England. Elizabeth granted full privilege and licence for twenty-one years ‘to imprint any and so many as they will of set songe or songes in partes, either in English, Latine, … or other tongues that may serue for musicke either in Churche or chamber’. Byrd therefore had royal approval to compose and print what he desired without persecution. Upon Tallis’s death ten years later, Byrd retained this privilege and produced several editions of his own works.

  Byrd’s three settings of the Mass Ordinary (for three, four and five voices) are widely known and do not require substantial elaboration here. All were published in the mid 1590s, and it is generally agreed that the Mass for five voices (arguably the most beautiful of the three) was the last to be composed. It is not surprising that stylistically Byrd broke from the great tradition of pre-Reformation English Mass settings, following a fallow period of some forty years in this genre. In the Mass for five voices thematic connections between the movements rarely exist; although a head motif launches them in a similar fashion, thereafter the style is governed largely by the text, rather than developing musical ideas and cross-reference such as may be found in the Masses of Ludford and Fayrfax. Most notable are those portions of the text which prominently profess the Catholic faith, through which we might read Byrd’s own particular and profound identification. In the Credo, for example, we hear the words ‘Et unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam’ boldly iterated, whereas in earlier English Mass settings the words ‘Jesu Christe’ are normally emphasized.

  Byrd’s greatest achievement in music publishing was his ambitious two-volume collection of the Gradualia, which contain settings of Mass Propers for the church year. It is not known whether these works were intended to be performed in a liturgical framework, or indeed along with any of Byrd’s own Mass settings as presented on this recording. In the political climate of the time it is unlikely that they would have been performed by the Queen’s Chapel Royal, of which Byrd was a member from 1570; this leads to the supposition that they were designed for use in the chapel of a recusant household. Such households may well have been able to maintain a choir capable of meeting the extreme technical demands of the Gradualia, but it is likely that Latin music of the time was performed by small forces—even as few as one to a part—with a female voice singing the top line. However, this does not preclude the possibility that the sound Byrd himself imagined was that of his own choir of the men and boys of the Chapel Royal, had political circumstances permitted.

  Byrd’s Propers for the Mass of Corpus Christi are published in the first book of the «Gradualia» (London, 1605), where the Magnificat antiphons O sacrum convivium and O quam suavis est are also found together with the Hymns to the Blessed Sacrament Ave verum corpus and O salutaris hostia.

  The Feast of Corpus Christi commemorates the institution and gift of the Holy Eucharist, traditionally celebrated in the Western Church on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. (In the early church this commemoration was held on its natural day in the Christian calendar, Maundy Thursday, on which the Eucharist was instituted at the Last Supper; however, in reserving this day as part of the Passion ceremonies, a new feast day was recognized in 1264 and set on the first free Thursday after Eastertide.) The texts reflect a sacrificial tone as befits the Corpus Christi celebrations, embodying the imagery of the ingestion of blood and body. As the medieval symbol of the Body of Christ illustrates, the mother Pelican’s beak penetrates her own breast, giving life-blood to benefit the hunger of her young. Ironically, Byrd chose the bright and cheerful mixolydian mode for his setting. The Introit Cibavit eos is delightfully radiant, and celebrates the biblical miracle of wheat and honey from the rock. Here the antiphon is followed by a Psalm verse (80:1) for reduced voices, and an energetic and semi-homophonic setting of the doxology (‘Gloria Patri’) with a deliberate break before the ‘Sicut erat’, quite typical in Byrd’s Introit settings. As the liturgy would dictate, the antiphon is repeated at the end of the work (although this is not directed in the printed sources).

  The Gradual Oculi omnium is a reposed petition for the blood and flesh of Christ, which is anticipated in the beautiful three-part verse ‘Aperis tu manum tuam’ with the appended Alleluia ‘Caro mea’, and finally resolved when the four-part texture resumes with vigour at the words ‘qui manducat meam carnem’. In English music of this period it is unusual to find such direct expression of the dramatic implications of the text. Throughout the Gradualia Byrd’s response is typically eloquent and powerful, from the short and simple Offertory Sacerdotes Domini (considered by many to be the gem of the Corpus Christi Mass), to the more robust and almost madrigalian setting of the Communion Quotiescunque manducabitis.

  Additional Propers for the related Votive Mass of the Blessed Sacrament are printed in the second book of the Gradualia (London, 1607), which additionally contains the Processional Hymn Pange lingua gloriosi (Byrd’s setting is not included on this recording but is sung to plainchant, as is the Corpus Christi Sequence Lauda Sion salvatorem) and the Benedictus antiphon for Lauds Ego sum panis vivus. (Owing to repeated reference to the Eucharist, the Corpus Christi Mass texts are appropriate for inclusion in the Votive Mass of the Blessed Sacrament.) The Tract Ab ortu solis would have been sung if the Votive Mass fell during the penitential season, and the Alleluia ‘Cognoverunt discipuli’ only in Paschal Time. However, these items are nevertheless related thematically to Byrd’s Corpus Christi Mass. The second half of the Alleluia actually restates the music of ‘Caro mea’ from the Gradual Oculi omnium, while the second part of the Tract (‘Venite, comedite’) is structurally very similar to the Introit Cibavit eos. (Several items in the «Gradualia» are repeated within the same feast or even from one feast to another, no doubt for economical considerations.)

  The lesser-known companion Hymn O salutaris hostia is also thought to be an early work. Here Byrd fully exploits his technical mastery of interlocking imitative phrases; the polyphony gradually intensifies and with the words ‘bella premunt’ climaxes with trumpet-like entries.»

  Wonderful English performance for English music.
The quality of the performers is really amazing. For me, Stile Antico is simply one of the best five vocal ensembles in the world.

  Enjoy they, enjoy William Byrd, the best English composer in history.

The Choir Project al día | 13-IX-2014

William Byrd [c. 1540-1623]: Ave verum corpus á 4 | Gradualia ac cantiones sacrae, 3–5vv [London, 1605].
Stile Antico.
Four parts to perfection.

  Philip Brett wrote about Byrd and his Gradualia:

  «William Byrd, the leading composer in Elizabethan England, appears to have retired from active life at court around 1593, his fiftieth year. He moved his family from Harlington (near the present Heathrow airport) to a village on the other side of London deep in the Essex countryside. His new home at Stondon Massey was a few miles from Ingatestone, the more private of the two Essex seats of a landed magnate named Sir John Petre, one of Byrd’s richest patrons. Like Byrd and his family, the Petres were Roman Catholics, and Ingatestone was a protected centre where the Roman liturgy could be celebrated with little interference from hostile authorities. Byrd’s move also marked the beginning of a new phase in his composition. Motets of protest and tribulation, written in an expansive and often madrigalian style, and clearly aimed at the situation of the Roman Catholic minority in England, had been characteristic of the Cantiones Sacrae of 1589 and 1591. From 1593 onwards Byrd conceived and brought to completion an ambitious plan to provide music for the Roman liturgy (and for extra-liturgical devotions) in a more concentrated, terse style that in many ways suited the requirements of the Catholic reformers, especially the Jesuits to whom he seems to have been especially close.

  The first works he completed in this characteristically thorough scheme were three settings of the Ordinary of the Mass, in three, four and five parts, published between 1593 and 1595. But the culmination came a decade later with two books of a collection entitled Gradualia and published in 1605 and 1607. The principal contents of these volumes are the Propers of the Mass (Introit, Gradual, Alleluia or Tract, Offertory, Communion, and sometimes the Sequence) for each of the principal feasts of the Roman Church year as well as for the votive Masses of the Blessed Virgin and the Holy Sacrament. One of the most notable features of this collection is that the texts are always those of the reformed Roman Missal of 1570. Byrd makes no attempt to rehabilitate the Sarum rite which was observed in most places in England before the Reformation and again during the reign of Mary I—even though he had paid direct tribute to England’s Catholic musical past by self-consciously making specific musical references to a Mass by John Taverner (c1495–1545) in his own four-part setting of the Ordinary. Characteristically for someone allied with the Jesuit party, however, his Gradualia eschews religious nostalgia for a rather strong dose of the militant spirit associated with Catholic reform.

  The opening fascicle of Book I, containing music for five voices, is illustrative of this militancy. It opens with twenty-five settings of Latin texts that comprise the entire material of those parts of the Roman liturgy connected with the Blessed Virgin Mary. None of the festivals associated with her (other than the Visitation and the Purification, the latter renamed as the Presentation of Our Lord), and absolutely nothing of what Protestants regarded as the idolatrous devotion surrounding her, remained in the reformed English Church. After this formidable block of pieces occur a song and two motets. The song, Adoramus te Christe, is the setting of a text associated with the worship of the Holy Cross, and the two motets, Unam petii and Plorans plorabit, reflect the spirit of the ‘political’ motets of the 1589 and 1591 collections. The text of Plorans plorabit, which refers to a ‘captive flock’ and warns of the imminent downfall of a king and queen, would surely have been regarded as treason had it not come from a genuine biblical source. The fascicle concludes, moreover, with a setting of the Propers for the feast of All Saints, the growing significance of which for English Catholics was as a commemoration of their ever-increasing number of martyrs.

  The Marian Masses that form the contents of this recording include not only the Marian Feasts generally authorised in 1605, but also the votive Masses associated with the Virgin. A votive Mass is a Mass offered for a particular intention or purpose, either on behalf of a group of people, or, as in this case, to a saint who was thought to possess special powers of entreaty at the throne of heaven. The votive Mass of the Virgin, often called ‘Lady Mass’, was traditionally offered on Saturdays and was not part of the office of the day, though its texts always reflected the progress of the church year.

The Feasts and votive Masses of the Virgin employ a revolving cycle of texts which come from a limited number of sources (Psalms 14, 23, 44 and 47, Luke chapters 1, 2 and 10, and single passages from Isaiah and Numbers). These texts recur over and over again on occasions when supplication to or celebration of the Virgin Mary transpires. In the printed Roman Graduals of the later sixteenth century, economies were made by printing each chant associated with these texts once only (usually under the heading of an important feast such as the Nativity of the Virgin), the singers being referred to the appropriate folio when they needed to sing that chant in another liturgical context.

  Byrd emulated this system from his Gradual, but was able to take it much further because, ignoring the chant, he was free to make one polyphonic setting do for any replication of text. In the opening Mass of the Purification, for instance, the Introit and Gradual require two separate chants, but because they both employ the same verses of Psalm 47 (the Gradual stopping slightly earlier than the Introit), Byrd was able to make do with one setting for both. With characteristic doggedness, Byrd followed this scheme to its logical conclusion. In so doing he created ‘motets’ like Diffusa est gratia (22) that are a collection of verses never performed exactly as they stand on any single liturgical occasion. Gaudeamus omnes, which follows it, is the head of the ‘Assumption Introit’ joined unceremoniously to the rump of the Alleluia for that feast. And inevitably the composer made some mistakes, leaving out a phrase here (as in the Offertory of the Purification), reversing the order of a set of verses there (as in Alleluia, Ave Maria, Alleluia, Virga Iesse, whose verses are the wrong way round for the Eastertide votive Mass, one of the two occasions they serve).

  The wonder is that Byrd managed to pull off this cut-and-paste scheme at all. For what it entailed musically was the writing of twenty-five pieces, many of them extensive, in the same mode and with the same voice ranges. It also entailed striving for a certain unity of expressive effect—not of course because of any anachronistic ideals of musical organization but simply to observe liturgical decorum, a quality which Byrd’s intimate, low-keyed and ultimately rewarding polyphony admirably reflects. This music has a restrained but intense devotional spirit for which parallels are hard to find. It repays frequent and attentive hearings.

  These twenty-five pieces, then, contain the music for Mass at eight feasts of the Church (including one with a Vigil—Mass celebrated the day before—and two with Octaves—Masses celebrated during the week terminating with the eighth day after the feast), and for the five different seasons of Lady Mass. Of these Byrd acknowledged only four feasts and two (or possibly three) votive Masses in the headings he distributed somewhat laconically throughout the publication. The feasts (in the order of the print) are those of the Purification (2 February), the Nativity of the Virgin (8 September), the Annunciation (25 March), and the Assumption (15 August). The votive Masses are those of Advent and ‘post Nativitatem Domini’ (i.e. after Christmas) with a cryptic and incorrect reference to the season after Septuagesima Sunday. The Nativity’s Propers were also sung on the Feasts of the Visitation (2 July) and the Conception (8 December). The Feasts of the Dedication of Our Lady of the Snow (5 August) and of the Presentation (21 November) derive their Mass Propers from the votive Mass of the season (although Venetian Graduals from which Byrd worked assign to the Presentation the Propers of the Nativity). These were the only Marian occasions generally authorized by the Roman Missal in 1605; Catholics familiar with the Missal immediately before Vatican II will be surprised by the modesty of the late sixteenth-century liturgy of the Virgin compared with its later, more prodigal manifestations.

  Byrd’s rubrics are as laconic as his liturgical headings, and a good deal less frequent, but they confirm the nature of this cryptic scheme. Following it through and singing it feast by feast and Lady Mass by Lady Mass would entail enormous repetition, especially of such perennial texts as the verse ‘Eructavit cor meum’. With the aid of technology we are fortunately able to preserve Byrd’s order and to do our own cutting and pasting at the controls of the compact-disc player.

The system is particularly advantageous to modern listeners because it puts them in a position comparable to that of contemporary users of Byrd’s publication. By those for whom the liturgy means nothing (and there were contemporary Anglican music lovers who presumably enjoyed these pieces as ‘Latin songs’ without scrutinizing them for liturgical function), the music can be heard in its printed order with no repetition. The care Byrd took to shape the pieces (ending settings of the Gradual verse, for instance, with a full-voiced alleluia, even though that alleluia belongs, liturgically speaking, to its own subsequent verse) is an indication that he was concerned about his numbers as individual pieces of music, observing an aesthetic decorum which governed all his actions.

Those who do care about liturgical occasion, or who wish to explore the ideal scheme that lurked behind Byrd’s cryptic presentation, have the ability with the track guide to realize any aspect of the scheme in a way comparable to that available to a contemporary Roman Catholic extremely well versed in the 1570 Missal. It could be argued that the repetition of the Introit after the psalm verse and doxology ought to have been obligatory, but that would have meant another disc and the impossibility of easily exploring the more ingenious and out-of-the-way aspects of Byrd’s transfer scheme. As it is, the interested student of Byrd may compare the effect of the Nativity and Advent votive Mass Propers with or without the alleluias which occur with them in the print but which belong only to Paschal time (between Easter and Pentecost); and such portmanteau numbers as Diffusa est gratia can be distributed into their correct liturgical allocations instead of being heard as a lump.

  For those who tend to regard Gradualia (or any other historical document) as unambiguously intended and to interpret it accordingly, history has preserved a suitably enigmatic piece of evidence. Among contemporary manuscripts which contain pieces from Gradualia, one (and only one) is given over largely to a copy of the contents of the first book. It comes from the household of a Roman Catholic squire of north Norfolk, Edward Paston (1550–1630). By a supreme stroke of historical irony it includes among its many pieces no single set of Propers: there is always one piece missing, and of course this missing link can indicate a variety of explanations. But it is clear that even among the circles in which Byrd was most likely to be appreciated (I have argued elsewhere that Byrd wrote songs celebrating events in Paston’s family life), the understanding of his grand design may well have been less complete or more complicated than we can now appreciate.

  It is fortunate that we can recapture an ideal form of that design today, and follow through the many permutations of the material in this kaleidoscopic collection of pieces. We will perhaps acknowledge, while doing so, the extraordinary courage it must have taken to publish the book at all during a time when, as it turned out during the fateful events of 5 November 1605, simply being Roman Catholic was itself grounds for suspicion of treason and sedition. In the aftermath of the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, a man from Cambrai named Charles de Ligny was arrested at an inn near the Tower of London and thrown into Newgate prison ‘on account of certain papistical books written by William Byrd, and dedicated to the Seigneur Henry Houardo (Howard), Earl of Northampton’, which were found on him, i.e. the partbooks of the first book of Gradualia. It is possible that the book was hurriedly withdrawn or recalled—only one copy of the original edition survives. But as early as 1607 Byrd could publish a second book of the collection, and in 1610 he managed to reissue both books with a fresh imprint. It is difficult to assess the true impact on an illustrious citizen of the effect of religious persecution and political coercion during an age as far distant as Jacobean England, but Byrd’s dogged pursuit of his Roman Catholic faith and of his grand musical design is a special illustration from those difficult times of the power of the human spirit and the intensity of the artistic endeavour that it can engender.»

  In words of David Skinner:

 «Perhaps the most popular and widely performed of all Byrd’s compositions is the exquisitely understated Ave verum corpus. Written in G dorian against the mixolydian Propers it is an almost unique example of modal mismatch in the Gradualia. As befits Byrd’s earlier devotional motets for penitence Ave verum corpus contains intense homophonic statements coupled with lucid counterpoint (most notably at the plea ‘miserere mei’), which suggests that the work may significantly predate its publication. The lesser-known companion Hymn O salutaris hostia is also thought to be an early work. Here Byrd fully exploits his technical mastery of interlocking imitative phrases; the polyphony gradually intensifies and with the words ‘bella premunt’ climaxes with trumpet-like entries.»

  At last, Peter Phillips said:

  «Finally we come to a composition from the 1605 Gradualia, a set of liturgical settings which were amongst the last things Byrd wrote. The famous hymn to the Blessed Sacrament, customarily sung as a Communion motet, Ave verum corpus, has the same intensity of expression as the Mass for four voices, though its compositional style is even more direct. Here he took a leaf out of the Protestants’ book and set the words in chords, so that they may be heard. True, they are in Latin, but every Catholic knew the meaning of this text. The only slight elaboration in the music is at the words ‘miserere mei’, where there is some simple imitation between the voices and a beautiful semitonal clash in the harmony.

  The music on this disc has shown that Byrd was capable both of great complexity and great simplicity; but for many people there is enough power in the Ave verum corpus for them to need nothing more.»

  This is a fantastic live performance by Stile Antico, recorded in concert at the Wigmore Hall on 30th May 2013 and later broadcast by Sky Arts. Their sonority is simply exquisite. Stile Antico is for me one of the best five vocal ensembles in the world. Renaissance polyphony is simply stunning in their voices and versions. Here, elegance, delicacy, expression and an impressive and an impressive and deep knowledge of the characteristics of the particular language of Byrd's compositions.

One of the best pieces in Western Music History in voices of one of the best ensembles in this moment.

  Absolute paradise!

Salve... [crítica en Codalario del último disco de Stile Antico]

Salve Britania

Stile Antico nos presentan un homenaje absolutamente deslumbrante de algunas de las piezas más destacadas de la era Tudor.

The Phoenix Rising. Stile Antico. Harmonia Mundi, 2013. TT. 74’34. Obras de William Byrd, Thomas Tallis, Thomas Morley, Orlando Gibbons, Robert White y John Taverner.

 
  Tengo que admitirlo: me fascina Stile Antico. He seguido su carrera desde el comienzo, cuando allá por 2007 saliese al mercado su primer disco, titulado Music for Compline, en el que se grababan algunas de las piezas más bellas del repertorio polifónico inglés del Renacimiento. Por aquel entonces, la frescura y calidad interpretativa de unas voces, cuya media de edad rondaba los 22-23 años, me dejó absolutamente fascinado y atónito. Alguien fue lo suficientemente inteligente en Harmonia Mundi –Production USA– para darse cuenta de que estábamos ante un grupo que supondría el futuro en este tipo de repertorio. Sus pronósticos se cumplieron. Han ido paso a paso, trabajando duro, y los éxitos cosechados han sido innumerables. Premios, conciertos por doquier, giras internacionales, alabanzas de público y crítica. Una carrera sólida en apenas siete años.

  El volumen de grabaciones es, además, intenso. Salen a disco por año. Este que presentamos aquí –octavo en su discografía– corresponde a este 2013. Un título sugerente y evocador, The Phoenix Rising, y un epígrafe, The Carnegie UK Trust & the revival of Tudor church music, absolutamente clarificador, que esconden algunas de las verdaderas joyas de la corona de la producción polifónica que en la Inglaterra del XVI nos legaran algunos de los más grandes maestros. Pongámonos, no obstante, en antecedentes. El Carnegie United Kingdom Trust es una sociedad de beneficencia que se creó con el fin de atender ciertas necesidades que la población de Gran Bretaña e Irlanda tenía en su momento. Cumple este 2013 el centenario de su fundación y toma el nombre de quien lo ideó, el escocés Andrew Carnegie, uno de los mayores filántropos de los siglos XIX y XX en Gran Bretaña. Pues hete aquí que dicha sociedad trabajó para la difusión de la polifonía inglesa de una manera absolutamente fundamental. Llevó a cabo la publicación de la Tudor Church Music [TCM], una colección en diez volúmenes –editada y publicada entre 1922 y 1929– que recogía algunas de las piezas más destacadas de la producción polifónica británica del XVI. Estos diez volúmenes se acompañaron de unas ediciones individuales, que recibían el nombre de octavo, y que pretendían ser utilizadas por los diversos y excelentes coro británicos para su interpretación. A pesar de algunos problemas en sus comienzos, estas ediciones supusieron un auténtico éxito, al menos si nos paramos a pensar en las apabullantes cifras: la edición del Ave verum corpus a 4 de William Byrd –publicada en 1922– había vendido 16.629 copias tan solo en 1930. De esta manera, esta TCM propulsada por el Carnegie UK Trust supuso un avance sin precedentes en la difusión de esta música, a la que debemos gran parte de la pasión que hoy día genera. Es comprensible, pues, que Stile Antico rindan un sentido homenaje a dicha edición y fundación, pues ellos mismos –como otras tantos grupos británicos– no tendrían sentido sin la existencia de ambas.

  La piedra angular sobre la que se construye todo el disco en la Mass for five voices, de William Byrd [c. 1540-1623], que es, sin duda, una de las grandes misas de todo el Renacimiento europeo. En ella, al igual que en sus otras dos misas –como destacan algunos autores– podemos encontrar un homenaje de Byrd a las misas de John Taverner, en este caso concreto a la célebre Missa Gloria tibi trinitas. Resulta maravillosa la forma tan pictórica en que el maestro inglés trata las palabras del texto y el delicado balance que consigue en el tratamiento de las cinco voces, un juego de contraste entre momentos de pocas líneas con otros pasajes de potencia sonora en las cinco partes; un verdadero guiño al estilo «arcaizante» anterior a la Reforma. Maravillosos algunos momentos especialmente, como la impresionante cadencia final sobre el amen del Credo o el Agnus Dei en su totalidad. También de Byrd es su Ave verum corpus a 4, uno de los motetes más destacados e interpretados hoy día de todo el XVI europeo. De una belleza desgarradora, sabe poner en música el dolor de la cristianos ante la muerte de Cristo y la veneración por su figura, pero prestando especial atención a la figura de este como hijo de la Virgen María –lo cual supone un problema en cuanto al tratamiento de la intercesión de esta en la figura de Cristo, una de las diferencias básicas entre el Anglicanismo y el Catolicismo. Fascinantes algunos de los acordes sobre palabras destacadas como ave, corpus, Virgine…, y la repetición desde el miserere hasta el final de la pieza, para destacar, más si cabe, la figura de la Virgen como madre de Dios –recordemos que Byrd era un recusante convencido del Anglicanismo, y que a pesar de la situación en la que se encontraba el país en lo religioso, supo mantener su credo y hacerse con la benevolencia de Elizabeth I gracias a su inmenso talento como compositor.

  Thomas Tallis [c. 1505-1585] –maestro del anterior– aparece representado en dos ocasiones. Primeramente con su impresionante Salvator mundi [I] a 5, una pieza en la que se observa su maestría en el manejo de la imitación y su talento para la creación de melodías absolutamente deslumbrantes. Le sigue In ieunio et fletu a 5 –al igual que la otra pieza, publicada en su Cantiones, quae ab argumento sacrae vocantur de 1575–, en la que se detiene más en el elemento armónico, destacando especialmente las líneas más graves, de sonoridad potente y expresiva.

  Orlando Gibbons [1583-1625] también está representado con sendas piezas, ambas completamente en inglés –únicos ejemplos del disco–, perfectos ejemplos del tratamiento del género Anthem en este país. Almighty and everlasting God a 4 y O clap your hands together a 8 –esta última es una de las piezas más célebres de su autor, destacando especialmente por el  carácter rítmico que subraya el texto jubiloso.

  Otro de los compositores representados por partida doble es Robert White [c. 1538-1574], uno de los que más se ha puesto en valor en los últimos años. Del mismo se registran aquí las lecturas de Portio mea a 5 y su Christe qui lux es et dies a 5 [IV], ambas de una belleza melódica prodigiosa, representantes del estilo más sosegado y menos «virtuoso» en la escritura. En la primera de ellas destaca el contraste entre los momentos plenos de sonidos con otros en el que participan únicamente dos o tres de las partes. En la segunda, las partes de polifonía se contraponen a algunas partes de los versos en canto llano, como era habitual para este tipo de textos dedicados a las «completas».

  Thomas Morley [1557-1602] nos trae una pieza realmente singular: Nolo mortem peccatoris a 4, que tiende un puente entre el género sacro y el profano, con dos versos introductorios en latín, a los que le siguen cinco en lengua vernácula –a la manera de Anthem–, que apareció, de hecho, en una fuente de música profana.

  El encargado de cerrar el disco es nada que John Taverner [c. 1490-1545], otro de los grandes maestros del XVI en Gran Bretaña. Su O splendor gloriæ a 5 es un ejemplo del gusto de este compositor por las antífonas votivas y las piezas de larga duración. Maravilloso el manejo de las texturas, consigue crear un auténtico entramado polifónico de intrincada majestuosidad que contrasta con momentos de vacío armónico aparente, en el que el desarrollo polifónico es casi puramente horizontal.

  Las versiones de las jóvenes voces de Stile Antico son, en todo punto, referenciales. El carácter está siempre enfocado a destacar el aspecto más expresivo, no únicamente técnico; y el color, equilibrio y afinación son irreprochables. La perfección se roza en prácticamente la totalidad del registro. La inteligibilidad de las líneas es asombrosamente meridiana. Lo que más sorprende de la visión de estos catorce cantores es lo cálido de las mismas. Mucho se ha achacado a los ensembles británicos lo alejados que están en ocasiones del aspecto expresivo en aras de la perfección técnica y estilística. En Stile Antico tenemos esa técnica apabullante, pero también un sentido de cercanía, de espiritualidad terrenal, que parecen ofrecernos la mano a su paso.

  Todas las líneas son impecables, dignas de alabanza y auténticos ejemplos para cualquiera que se dedique a esto. Lo de las hermanas Ashby –Helen y Kate– es de asustar en la línea de sopranos –impecable el sonido en el registro agudo y la facilidad en la línea de canto–, que se completa con la exquisita voz de Rebecca Hickey. Las altos –una de las peculiaridades de este conjunto es que no utiliza contratenores– son siempre deslumbrantes y poderosas, conformando una cuerda compacta y firme –a las «históricas» Emma Ashby y Eleanor Harries se une el fichaje de Katie Schofield. Los tenores, ejemplo del sonido británico para esta cuerda, destacan por su bello timbre y el gusto para acometer los registros más agudos; siendo los culpables: Jim Clements, Andrew Griffiths y Benedict Hymas. La sonoridad de los bajos es también particular en este conjunto; los bajos británicos pueden resultar a veces poco elegantes, demasiado directos y potentes en la emisión, sin embargo, Will Dawes, Timothy Murphy y Matthew O’Donovan son siempre elegantes, buscando una vocalidad amable pero siempre presente, que mantiene la estructura de todo el conjunto.

  Ya lo dije en su momento, Stile Antico no tienen actualmente nada que envidiar a cualquiera de los grandes grupos del mundo especializados en polifonía renacentista. Están entre los primeros, logrando siempre la excelencia. Son el futuro, pero también el presente. Tienen la enorme ventaja de haber permanecido unidos desde el principio, de componer una estructura sólida, firme, inquebrantable, en las que apenas ha habido algún cambio desde su fundación. Y eso se nota, vaya si se nota.

  Se completa el disco con una bellísima presentación por parte del equipo de Harmonia Mundi, y unas interesantes, aunque escuetas, notas críticas, firmadas por Matthew O´Donovan, uno de los bajos del conjunto. 

  Ya fue uno de los «ocho esenciales de la música antigua» que en su día recomendé para el anuario de Codalario, así que no se pierdan este disco. No escucharán un sonido tan hermoso interpretado por cantores tan jóvenes en ninguna otra parte, al menos de momento.

Publicado en Codalario el 11-XII-2013.