Remarks on Recent Recordings

This page concerns the "Early Music" portion of the site. (Although I do not remember specifically myself, if I trust what I see online, it appears that this feature began in April 2000, then in a monthly digest format.)

As of October 2014 (in parallel with the twenty years discussion), I will be making comments here on an intermittent, not strictly monthly basis. Accordingly, entries will be dated more precisely than by their month.

As always, comments here are what I choose to note about a release, and do not follow a strict format. Only recordings about which I feel I have something worthwhile to say — & usually deriving from the recently issued CDs list — will be mentioned in this space.

Comments are in reverse chronological order, i.e. newest first.

Then after a slow year last year, releases of interest here seem to be appearing more quickly (at least early on...) this year. And after the Josquin Anniversary (in 2021) when I made a point to review all the dedicated programs, I'm still wrestling somewhat with how much to discuss in more detail, but do want to note the new Amarcord album, i.e. oriented around the former's Missa de beata virgine & some sacred contrafacta from Leipzig. Amarcord has been performing for a long time, and so that involves both ongoing experience with this repertory as well as work through the broader choral domain (e.g. not unlike the Hilliard Ensemble, to name an English group...), meaning their interpretive style can be somewhat hybrid. Still, they're talented singers — and an all-male group singing one-to-a-part, which is usually the best configuration for bringing out the most in this repertory... — providing a distinctive combination of individual vocal virtuosity. The Missa de beata virgine is then perhaps Josquin's prettiest cycle, so that's a good combination as well. The sacred contrafacta also provide some individual points of interest (& the medieval plainchant tracks, not particularly interesting otherwise, do receive a distinctive treatment...). Then the album is titled Maria, and it's Ave Maria a few ways.... Overall, it's an enjoyable listen, but didn't really expand my Josquin appreciation in a meaningful way. (I suppose that should be the standard at some point, right?) And Amarcord hadn't released a Josquin album for the anniversary, so perhaps this program (recorded in part in 2021...) should indeed be added to that list belatedly....

And then it turns out that Fra Bernardo & Beauty Farm were not finished with their recent double album release of Agricola masses, as an "EP" of the latter's Missa Le serviteur — based on the Dufay chanson — appeared on streaming this month. As usual lately with Fra Bernardo, circumstances are mysterious, and probably no further information on this recording will appear, but presumably it's from the same sessions.... I'm also not sure why it wasn't included, as there's sufficient space on either of the CDs of the double program, but here we are.... So anyway, the Missa Le serviteur is basically the opposite of the two massive & intricate masses presented in the physical release: It's much simpler, almost elegant, and yes, does involve more apparent affective motion through the cycle. (It was also recorded by A:N:S Chorus, along with Missa Je ne demande....) Thus it doesn't "stand out" in the way the previously released cycles do, but adds another perspective to Agricola's output.

Although it's (again, pace Manchicourt last year...) not new repertory, I was certainly excited to see Beauty Farm's new Agricola set appear. And I basically instantly loved these readings, adding the set to my personal list. A correspondent suggested that this was the ideal combination of repertory & performers, and that may be true: Agricola's music is incredibly intricate, especially rhythmically, but Beauty Farm has followed all the mensurations & arrived at a clear & assertive rendition. The program is in fact identical to the classic/premiere A:N:S release of these Agricola masses (my Record of the Year here for 2001...), but the intervening generation of developing singers really shows. (In those days, I used to say we needed a generation to grow up hearing this music....) There's also the slower pace here (about one third longer...), and that works nicely too, letting the slower passages linger. (I suspect A:N:S was mainly motivated to fit the same program onto a single CD.) Plus there's the one-voice-to-a-part approach (which is buoyed by better singing technique over time...). And then as noted in the "personal" remarks — where I also reiterated the obligatory comparison with the more rationalist composer, Obrecht — these are distinctive summits of the period, but come off more as ambitious series of variations than as sacred cycles.... Still, Agricola is a uniquely inventive composer, and these are his two grandest works. For all those reasons, this release is indeed likely to stand as a major issue in this repertory for quite some time.... As far as the music itself then, as also noted in the other remarks, there's less a sense of "architecture" here, i.e. fewer of the long vistas of Obrecht, and so I always wonder if this situation implicates Agricola's reputed blindness — something not mentioned at all by the liner notes for the current release, which likewise don't attempt to justify the program as significant within his oeuvre.... (There are still unrecorded mass cycles attributed to Agricola, so perhaps I'm wrong in thinking these are the most outstanding, although that would appear to be the case....) There's also no apology for the lost Kyrie. So be it — after all, the Missa In myne zyn (based on one of Agricola's own secular works...) is still his longest surviving cycle. Of course, the Missa Malheur me bat invites direct comparison with Obrecht (& Josquin — for whom it yielded one of the most successful mass cycles), incredibly rich in detail here.... But also as noted, maybe not as rich in sacred affect.... The listening takes a lot of stamina, in fact, although it does provide liveliness in return: One might even characterize the whole thing as one big (affective) Gloria. And then the singing is great, perhaps even better with different singers, as Beauty Farm appears to be another self-renewing group (around founder Bernhard Trebuch, who isn't a performer for the ensemble...). There're also commercial issues too unfortunately, although this new item did appear promptly on Qobuz: I guess it's to appear in the US in April (whereas I ordered from Germany...), but there's little info available from the Fra Bernardo label these days. Also the liner notes seem only to be included with the physical CD, which is (obviously...) of lesser audio quality than the high-def streaming. (But then for unknown reasons, the streaming was again broken into many more tracks, and not very well, so there're gaps when playing the masses via that technology.... Nothing seems to come out quite right!) Presumably these issues will work themselves out eventually, but for now, the interested listener tends to be in a bind with the lack of information around these releases.... All that said though, this is still an excellent combination of repertory & performance, immediately one of the best.

Starting a new year here by turning back to some core repertory, it's welcome news that The Orlando Consort has released Volume 11 of their now completed Machaut Edition: As noted in the remarks added (at the end, pending a rewrite there...) over at my personal list, indeed they didn't record most of the monophonic lais, but also didn't rerecord the Mass. (That was already on Harmonia Mundi, with 3 of the 4 current/final members. And I thought they might record a vocalizing hocket, but they didn't....) However, they ended up rerecording e.g. all of the songs on their first Machaut album for Deutsche Grammophon, there with 2 of the current/final members. And the group does claim to have given its final concert, with this being its last recording. I expect it's probably Don Greig — from whom I used to hear fairly regularly back in another era on the internet... — who wanted to retire, and so I guess that's the end for the quartet, despite weathering some previous changes. The (sad?) occasion also gave me cause to ponder their discography more generally, especially their late recordings for Hyperion — at which point I decided I'd been remiss in not featuring their Dufay album more (although I'd reviewed it here in May 2019...), and added it to my personal list as well.... Anyway, back to the final Machaut volume, titled A lover's death, it's another enjoyable program: They must've planned the whole cycle, which makes sense, because there's still a good balance here at the end — e.g. the final first recording (B11), plus some real hits (e.g. V4) — although with no four-voice pieces left with which to conclude their quartet.... The liner notes also continue to remind us that a new performance edition, The Complete Works of Guillaume de Machaut (on which these interpretations were based), is soon to appear.... These are fine interpretations too, i.e. very much in line with the past few releases in the series. And so who knows what the future will hold, but it's certainly nice to have this "complete" set.

Considering that I added Beauty Farm's Manchicourt album to my personal list earlier this year, I probably owe some remarks regarding a new recording devoted to Jean Richafort, an older composer than Manchicourt. (In fact, Richafort had been associated with Philip II of Spain, for whom Manchicourt surely worked — afterward — although it appears the former association is now deemphasized or uncertain....) So why little interest in Richafort from me? That's the blunt question. And I want to turn as well to the previous entry & its ex nihilo idea, i.e. basically the creation of polyphonic music without models: Both of these composers do typically use polyphonic models, but Manchicourt is something of a throwback, emphasizing forward senses of line... (& this is specifically what I find appealing). On the other hand, Richafort is more anticipatory of the "Palestrina style," e.g. antiphonal effects & "harmonic" organization. For me then, Manchicourt drives an affective response via (multi-threaded) linear motion, while Richafort comes off as "merely" decorative: It's pretty music, certainly expertly crafted (especially masterful e.g. at speeding or slowing tempo...), but without much affective impact, and with basically no (or empty) logical-rhetorical impact. And that's something I should've noted explicitly in the prior entry, i.e. the history of rhetoric via music & especially how that's been articulated in counterpoint: That's obviously too big a general topic for this review, but do first let me locate this "departure" (if you will...) with the Ars Nova, i.e. its specific senses of linear independence & setting lines against each other. This sort of polyphonic (& often polytextual) expression regularly invoked e.g. political rhetoric or basic conceptual juxtapositions, including broad oppositions between different spheres or perspectives. In that sense, counterpoint is specifically rhetorical — & can even be said e.g. to set up competing arguments for rejection. (I noted Antonio Zacara da Teramo specifically as a high-end musical rhetorician when reviewing his complete works here, as released on recording in 2021: Creating these new sorts of rhetorical complexes ex nihilo was rare even then....) So one might suggest that contrapuntal musical rhetoric conjures a sense of society (i.e. context or situation) in the music, e.g. that it heralds already the notion of "symphony." But then this (Ars Nova) sense of musical rhetoric tends to disappear over the course of the fifteenth century.... (Josquin was another great rhetorician, from later in the era, although far more puritanical than Zacara.... And then a sense of formal — versus ornamental — musical rhetoric returns later with madrigals, opera & associated genres....) And the deemphasis can be linked to the English influence as well (as they produced very little isorhythmic music, i.e. with its linear independence, continuing more of an Ars Antiqua style based on "spectral" harmonics...), i.e. under the historical term "English countenance." (Note e.g. that Fayrfax, a close contemporary of Josquin, displays relatively little ex nihilo "counterpoint" in a logical-rhetorical sense, instead writing more in terms of modal-harmonic unity & directness.... Indeed a "decorative" style is more typical of other English music later in the period.... But then Ars Nova influence never did vanish entirely: It's linked e.g. to the classical proscription on counterpoint in fourths.) Anyway, I tend not to hear Richafort (as opposed to the Compère motet that opens this program...) as expressing any real "content" with his counterpoint, rather articulating a decorative style spreading related motifs evenly across the sonic "surface." (One might note Obrecht's Missa Maria zart as a precursor in some ways, i.e. because of its attempt to fill the air with the — in that case, monophonic — lucky tune.... As opposed to Richafort's more proto-antiphonal style though, pace Manchicourt, it's also very much about long lines & horizontal continuities....) Maybe it's also something about the style of the French court in this period, because I feel basically the same about e.g. Mouton's music: Pretty, technically impressive at times, yet nothing really grabs me.... (It probably should be noted as well, at some point, that routinized counterpoint ceases to be any sort of musical "argument." It becomes exactly what it was probably intended to be, presumptive agreement & glorification of the status quo.) And then of course I should congratulate the performers, Cappella Mariana, who continue to do a fine job with this music: Including women isn't necessarily authentic, but they're all good singers, articulating these pieces with wonderful clarity (pace e.g. their Flemish Polyphony in Central Europe as well, reviewed here just this past June...). So by recording two of his neglected mass cycles — the Requiem having been the exception — in quite coherent readings, their release helps enormously to illuminate Richafort's work further: His "stained glass" sense of harmonic coloring does suggest Palestrina at times....

Björn Schmelzer & Graindelavoix have already returned this year with a new album devoted to 15th & 16th century motets, Ex Nihilo, actually recorded (a little) prior to their Brumel album (as reviewed here earlier this year). The latter had seemed more like a "concept" album, as the lacunæ of the manuscript were left to sound with static, the mass cycle itself becoming more static as it went.... As performance art it made sense. As far as listening to c.1500 music though, it didn't add much. So Graindelavoix has made some valuable recordings — such that I'm generally eager to hear what they come out with next — but it also seems as though they might be becoming bored of the music per se.... Of course "the music per se" is always in question for something of this early era, which is part of the point, but is someone trying to render the music in its (perhaps hypothetical) technical details, or just smoothing that over for a sort of gestalt? It can seem that Schmelzer is moving toward the latter. His discussions with these releases are always stimulating, and pace the Brumel performance, I sometimes wonder if they're more the point of the project than rendering sound. Here Schmelzer takes up an early Protestant writer saying that polyphony is void of content: He uses this as a provocation, but there's more to wonder about.... First, Schmelzer doesn't examine the implication that a melody has a meaning, which is an interesting claim. (And let's note as well that text itself only has a meaning due to culturally derived significations. It can still include plenty of ambiguity.) So how might melody have a meaning? Clearly this revolves around the affective response of rising or falling intervals, where any final signification would then be culturally conditioned (as well as retain various ambiguities in practice...). One might say something similar for harmonized music of the common practice era: There're emotional "conventions" to such music, built up over time, while sometimes remaining ambiguous. (Affective response, generally speaking, is rendered into concrete or even standardized emotional or intellectual response via cultural conditioning.) So what we have also with polyphony of this era — & especially with polyphony of this era — is the thematized ex nihilo factor, i.e. original counterpoint that refers less to prior convention. But then "reference" is certainly not absent, i.e. in the borrowed chants or other tunes, perhaps the evocations of other contrapuntal works, etc. These pieces are packed with relations. And I would submit that this is how the brain works: It's a network of connections, a lot of "empty space" between (electrical) connections per se, a multi-dimensional grid of relations. In that sense, polyphony suggests human thinking about a tune or idea, and the various (both purely musical-technical, as well as extra-musical...) associations that such a notion can imply. So what of this performance by Graindelavoix? It does seem lacking in attention to detail, focusing on an overall "sweep" to the pieces — with various well-known figures highlighted for return, but not necessarily connected coherently... — while obscuring (or ignoring) various details. (Was it prepared hurriedly?) One can already note a sort of "distension" e.g. in their Josquin Undead album (i.e. secular music — but do note that, also provocatively, that's the one all-male album here!), but the basic frameworks of the songs come through, and I've readily enjoyed that album. Ex Nihilo is often rather blurry, though. (The 6-part Obrecht antiphon is the most appealing track, probably because Obrecht includes so much structure himself, some of it projects through even when it's being ignored....) Indeed, comparing the old Cecus album (perhaps the most similar in program, except for the opening Sephardic song...), there was some blurriness at the time, especially in middle parts, but seemingly as a normal part of learning the music better, developing a style, etc. Now there's certainly a style, and blurriness seems to be a part of it, as rhythmic distinctions in particular are regularly smoothed over, rendering the music into a sort of generalized flow.... (One thing I continue to enjoy about Graindelavoix is the way the voices have rather different timbres, but do come together in a sort of blend — i.e. rather than the "blend" being imposed by a priori choices....) And then it also seems that Schmelzer is adopting this sort of style in response to what he calls the unbelievability & contradictions of the religious texts? Well, regardless of that, I think everyone here knows I'd prefer to hear the details of rhythm & counterpoint. It's not that I don't believe in "interpretation," it's that much of this music has never really been rendered "straight" in great performances... but I repeat myself. As far as the ex nihilo aspect though, of course this is exactly what attracts me, the forging of these contrapuntal complexes that would later become standardized (& in turn their possibilities greatly reduced). One might say that these works forge their own contexts (well, as noted, they involve various references too...) against which to signify. That's exciting. But already the Ex Nihilo program is rather broad, reaching back into 15th century Marian antiphons (which are the most enjoyable here...), while including more obscure Lamentations from later in the 16th century as well. Perhaps it's that I'm not oriented on the latter music, but those performances do also seem more suitable & satisfying. And so I should note that, prior to the past few releases, Graindelavoix had turned its attention more to c.1600 music, something the performance choices here suggest will (or should) continue.... Their almost tortured response to Josquin especially here does come to seem more typical of groups focused on later music (e.g. with emotive sighing obscuring rhythmic figures, a place to which it seems so many choral directors always want to return...). The high-def sound of this release is very good though (an underrated factor for polyphony, as I'm still realizing...), while I continue to enjoy the basic techniques & timbres of the singers too.

And now the Binchois Consort is back with a new album devoted to Obrecht's Missa Scaramella: This is relatively late music for this group (although they did release a program around Josquin back in 2001...), which focuses more on the earlier fifteenth century (including England), and also involves a major reconstruction of the mass cycle (along with two of the three period motets...): In this case the tenor & discantus are both missing (leaving altus & bassus only...), requiring major compositional work. Some of that is simpler on account of the nature of the tenor in a cantus firmus mass, but here the Scaramella tune does move into other voices as well. And then the top line is of course very important to our hearing of the mass today.... So it's in many ways an impressive achievement. I'm not entirely sure how to judge it either: I almost feel as though the reconstruction is an aspect of interpretation — as obviously it's contingent in various ways (& obviously all interpretation of music, particularly from centuries past, involves filling in gaps of detail & context...). And then the performance — as typical for this group — shows a fine sense of detail, but almost at the expense of longer articulations & senses of overall development through the cycle.... Their focus on moment to moment passages can consequently feel almost vertiginous. And it does feel interesting to say that about music of this era, as focus on details is often lacking.... (The recent Obrecht recording from Cappella Pratensis is a good example of strong attention to detail, however. And they project a strong sense of the overall motion of the cycle as well!) In this case, I also feel as though the result fits with the general experience of groups who work more with earlier music moving into the c.1500 era: They've often got a crisper sense of detail, whereas groups that work mainly with later music tend to want to smooth things over.... (It's also interesting how the discussion accompanying this release is adamant about calling it all "Renaissance" music. Of course, I've transitioned into calling it the end of the Middle Ages, so this almost feels as though they're looking for a fight.... I mean, such labeling is arbitrary in many ways, but I'm increasingly uncomfortable with placing the sort of break that this school of thought places where it does, i.e. in the early fifteenth century. That's how I learned the music history originally too, but there are political ramifications....) There's also a brief discussion of recording in a "dead" studio instead of a resonant church, arguing that this sort of intricate polyphony would've more often been performed in a cozy side chapel: I welcome this development, as (& I've started to mention this aspect occasionally in this space...) I'm quite sure that the main audience for a lot of this music was really the singers themselves, so hearing it through echoes was something more for the uninitiated. Anyway, I want to hear clearly, and the typically resonant spaces can interfere with that (although I still believe that they can be recorded better or worse...). As far as the work of the restorers? I feel as though some of the passages come off strangely (e.g. already early in the Christe, but even the final Agnus that they try to spin as "unmistakably" Obrechtian...), and then some do sound like Fitch himself (e.g. Et unam... & really already in the opening passage to the first Kyrie...) — & I have heard several of Fitch's own works recorded on these sorts of programs already (& more so than anyone else's it seems, although all of his works also seem very similar to me...). Some of this is due to the basic attention to detail, so a lot of this piece comes off starkly, almost naked. That takes courage. And the lively Scaramella does seem to make for a fun mass cycle. The big — with only one countertenor among the five voices reconstructed (& reconstructed differently from the prior recording, also coincidentally from Hyperion) — Obrecht motet is also impressive, although kind of ponderous sometimes too. I guess the (unreconstructed) Agricola motet to finish actually comes off as the most satisfying piece here then. Will we be hearing more of these sorts of major reconstructions? I did enjoy various parts of this program....

Ensemble Céladon returns with a new program dedicated to trouvères, stated to be the third in a series starting with their troubadour program (recorded in 2013) & a Minnesang release (2022). Although I haven't been following performances of medieval monophony so much, I did particularly enjoy the troubadour recital (& it's amazing it's been more than ten years...), but this latest trouvère program is more idiosyncratic: This repertory survives in much better condition, but instead of featuring a more typical selection, they've got some reconstructions & self-created dance tracks.... (It's also interesting that the Lescurel program that they released back in 2016 isn't referenced in this sequence. But it does underscore that there's much more to the trouvère repertory....) Anyway, performances are generally satisfying: I actually enjoy the dances & instrumental work (& singing...), although they have a weirdly quiet (naturalistic?) opening & some atmospheric bird whistles that probably aren't needed.... (OK, I guess that was my local birds giving their support. There were already bells in the first program though.) Flute (by Gwénaël Bihan) is also particularly captivating across these programs. So who's going to record something systematic for the trouvères?

More oriented on the generations that so often concern me here, the followup Flemish Polyphony in Central Europe by Cappella Mariana offers a relatively intriguing collection per its title, again featuring Johannes Tourout (fl.1460; pace my review of their Portrait of an Imperial Cantor from 2022): The previous album had established Tourout as a significant figure (pace many works needing reconstruction of one sort or another...) — even the composer of a mass cycle once attributed to Ockeghem... — & the latest program includes as well underrecorded composers Weerbeke & Ghiselin (both having e.g. had dedicated Mass volumes published originally by Petrucci...), plus Isaac (whose output is so vast that in some sense it's still somewhat obscure...). Some pieces, especially by Weerbeke, can be more homophonic-homorhythmic than I particularly enjoy, but there's various appealing material here as well (including from previously unknown mass cycles...). Of course, there's also the issue of a "collections" program (that includes extracts too, although in this case, the fact that certain pieces were extracted by scribes of the time & place can indicate something of note...), pace e.g. the immediately prior remarks around Manchicourt, but the explorations do seem to have a broader value relative to understanding the Franco-Flemish repertory in general (as ongoing funding from the Alamire Foundation would seem to confirm...). And the interpretations are indeed excellent, even with their mixed voices (& doubling for a couple of tracks?), such that I'd enjoy hearing this group in a more "central" program. So despite (or as a result of?) their more specific focus, Cappella Mariana has ended up becoming one of the more compelling Franco-Flemish polyphony interpreters of recent years.

I wanted to take some extra time to consider my remarks on the latest Beauty Farm release, a double CD consisting of four masses by Pierre de Manchicourt (c.1510-64). Since I did go ahead & add this item to my personal list, it starts to feel as though I'm rather slavishly following Beauty Farm. After all, Manchicourt's is certainly later than the polyphonic vocal ensemble music that I usually feature. And I hadn't really thought that much of him in the past either, although I guess that's partly a matter of not paying attention: The old Huelgas Ensemble disc from Sony (& these aren't found on streaming it seems...?) has the usual issue with their programs of the time, namely that as a sequence of "greatest hits" across genres & even extracting passages, it lacks overall coherence. And then most recently, I did audition the La Hèle disc from Peter Phillips' new vocal ensemble, enjoying the former's obscure late-period Missa Praeter rerum seriem, but the Manchicourt motets seemed to be the weakest parts of the program.... I've also tried, since the old days of Reese, to balance a sense of "mass cycle as symphony" with where various composers actually devoted their creativity, e.g. focusing on Josquin's motets etc. And I've felt that way especially about Gombert, enjoying his motets more than his mass cycles — a relevant comment here, since not only did Beauty Farm begin their discography with Gombert, but he seems to have been both a mentor to Manchicourt & an overall touchstone for Fra Bernardo label editor Bernhard Trebuch, who compares Manchicourt (in his liner notes) to both Gombert (for the "modern" dissonances between individual lines...) & Ockeghem (for the "never ending melodies" sensation...). And it's the larger canvas of the mass cycle that does seem to let these factors come together for Manchicourt, with the writing not being particularly dense, rather in broad arcs.... (I might compare this transparent, flowing style to some of Obrecht's mass cycles in fact, although Obrecht comes off as more mathematical & precise, whereas with Manchicourt there's more caprice... & more lightness.) And then, except for Gombert (for whom they also recorded a mass disc...), Beauty Farm (& "The Sound and the Fury" before them...) have concentrated almost exclusively on masses. That's been leaving me wanting updated motet readings in many of these cases, but for Manchicourt the former orientation seems to work. Then for the most part, the new double album doesn't consist of first recordings (unlike many others in this series...), but going back to listen to previous items (again, in some cases), I'm far more struck by Beauty Farm's reading: The individual lines are handled so well, particularly phrasing & ficta, that they really soar. Plus I've always preferred the more minimal ensemble (& the others have all been much larger, muddy...). And I think all of this is important to my own reception of the set, as it's really the sense of flow & projecting a more open frame that sets these masses apart, i.e. makes me find them valuable for listening today. The voices seem so unencumbered, sketching out a broad & even airy architecture.... (Regarding this later era more generally then, I still have an interest e.g. in Clemens, although I've yet to hear a really great album for him....) So I definitely forgive Beauty Farm for entering this "more trodden" domain (& later music such as this has long had better editions...), although I still feel as though they should get right to the heart of the matter & tackle Josquin in a big way! (And the Fra Bernardo site has still not been updated either. The Manchicourt set has appeared, or is in the process of appearing, on all the main outlets though — unlike some previous releases that were more partial. But the "digital only" releases, on streaming, remain without details at all.... So this is kind of a strange state of affairs here in 2024, but Fra Bernardo is also not the only label seeming to be undergoing these sorts of transitions....)

It took a while, but the second volume of Ockeghem's Complete Songs has arrived from Blue Heron. Obviously the pandemic had a big effect on their recording opportunities for this project, with the first volume already appearing in 2019, but over the course of 2022, 2023 & 2024, they did get the final round of recordings made. In some sense then, my remarks are already implied, in that I'd been openly anticipating this second volume.... As I discuss over in the remarks for my personal list though, I didn't initially love the opening: Blue Heron has been great for clear articulation in particular, and while I enjoy their quick pace in Prenez sur moi, some lower parts soon become hard to hear. This remains an exception (& the interpretation is very good overall...), but tracks #2 & #4 are probably also a couple of Ockeghem's least compelling songs (while #3 is among the most enigmatic, lyrics-wise...), just by their nature. (One wonders how many Ockeghem chansons have been lost, presumably among those less popular or impressive.... And I probably shouldn't assume the latter part, but then the items appearing in fewer sources can sometimes seem less compelling, at least in this case.) By the time we get to the languid La despourveue, everything seems great again.... (That & the Cornago reworking are the only two pieces on either disc employing a single voice in these interpretations, for whatever that remark is worth.... Moving on, I've particularly enjoyed e.g. the subtle shadings of their Presque transi, although they become relatively quiet for parts of that song too....) Of course the group's basic approach to tuning & singing/playing one-to-a-part continues to be welcome here as well. And I enjoy the one arrangement for brass (which is a good example of hiring musicians for a single track...!). Additionally, the liner notes present evidence of Ockeghem signing his own name as "Okeghem," so maybe I should update spelling here.... (Perhaps I should also mention that the Bandcamp downloads come in 24bit sound.) But I guess much of the CD programs today (revisiting the first as well...) ended up making me wonder about those various presumably lost songs.... I suppose that a sense of completion, especially given such heightened anticipation, does tend to bring along some melancholy. But then, isn't it about time for a new survey of Ockeghem's sacred music?

I guess it's been a slow year so far, at least for releases of interest here, but the always inventive Graindelavoix is back with a new album devoted to Brumel's Earthquake Mass (i.e. Et ecce terræ motus): The 12-voice piece itself is unique for the period, and Schmelzer emphasizes that it's known only from its rediscovery (& recopying...) by Lassus, later in the 16th century — and that this later manuscript is becoming illegible in parts, especially later in the mass. Schmelzer's approach here is then to honor the situation, not by reconstructing the fading notes, but by leaving gaps in the vocal performance — to be filled by a strangely-timbred instrumental combo. As electric guitar is the star there, it's not "period" at all, and even the non-modern wind instruments are selected & played in non-period ways.... This is Schmelzer's way of confronting the manuscript now. What I find ultimately disappointing then about this recorded performance is that this instrumental wave — slowly taking over for the vocal mass, as the music proceeds... — is just not very interesting musically. (For readers who haven't noticed, I regularly review contemporary improvisation — & this part of the album would seem to fit right under that "new music" umbrella... — elsewhere on the site, but the material from Mota & Schmelzer wouldn't register at all with me from that perspective: I tried to enjoy it, but it's boring!) The album begins with a very long instrumental prelude, so there's plenty of time to orient oneself toward it, but it never grabs me (& after several tries). Schmelzer claims the exotic winds make the music sound uncanny or apocalyptic, but I just don't hear it that way: It's more like a wave that gradually takes over... the ocean lapping at the beach (not even crashing waves...), more like white noise or even static... so the old mass becoming engulfed in static. To me then, the result is a concept piece only, not really a sound piece! I think there's something to be said for the basic notion of asking what this music/manuscript can do for us now, though. (For me, recontextualizing Western music's own history was always a big thing. But in the musical-technical sense, we've probably now learned what we can learn, so it's time to move on to other ways of interrogating history & — in this release especially — the passage of time....)

William Kempster continues to work on illuminating more opaque corners of Pierre de la Rue's oeuvre, now with Renewals and Reincarnations, largely devoted to previously unrecorded pieces by La Rue — or likely by La Rue, or previously recorded only in instrumental versions. In fact Kempster argues that the so-called "instrumental pieces" of the era were largely vocal anyway, but simply not copied with texts. (This seems very plausible, at least in many cases.) And in some cases he even finds what could be the correct text for untexted La Rue works. In others, he finds a different contemporary text to fit.... (And since, as he says, instrumentalists are taking over vocal works as their own, he arranges Beethoven's Heiliger Dankgesang for voices, as a sort of revenge....) I don't exactly enjoy the large-ish student ensemble here, as articulation can be muddy, but Kempster does keep answering questions about this music, including via practical performance.

And let me go ahead and mention next Fortune Infortune from recorder quintet Seldom Sene, adding a countertenor for most songs — including songs by Josquin, alongside those of others from the era. This is a credible effort, and I do want to note it, as the general repertory needs more attention. The recorder quintet itself often ends up sounding like an organ though, so in that sense it can be a more monochromatic rendition. I tend to think of recorder arrangements as having their own distinct audience, but I've also enjoyed this album. It's not the first time that Seldom Sene has ventured into this repertory either, so perhaps they'll continue....

Right from the pronunciation (by women) of the opening "Ave" of the arch-famous Ave Maria, the new Josquin I from Boston's Cut Circle announces its intent to shake things up. But it also announces an approach emphasizing clarity, stating that the voices (including of women...) were chosen so as to be individually distinct. Their all-vocal approach to the secular portion of the program then suggests some similarities with that by Graindelavoix & Josquin The Undead, and who knows what they'll do with the instrumental works..., but the prospect of a complete survey of the motets is very exciting to me. (And it's not as though the mass cycles all possess great readings either....) I did thus add this initial offering to my personal list, but more for its promise of a complete edition than for the actual mixed program of the first release. (Rodin states that the program had been developed as part of the Josquin Anniversary, with its recording presumably being delayed by the pandemic, such that by the time they'd completed this production, they were talking about a complete survey....) It remains to be seen what future programs will be like, although the second release will probably inform us considerably as to the format the series will take.... Already Rodin does state an emphasis on pieces that are securely attributed today, rather than returning to the various other "hits" associated with Josquin over the years, so that's welcome. And while some of these motet passages can be a little muddled or shakey, there's already a lot to like in terms of exposing the various lines & passages with excellent polyphonic clarity. I'm assuming their command & fluidity will only increase now as well. They already sound fresh, with e.g. varieties of vocal articulation in the songs. So this could be a very important project.

I'd also reviewed Doulce Mémoire's Josquin album Tant vous aime back in May 2022, noting that it was colorful & sounded like an approach from later Renaissance music.... What I didn't note was the "rustic" emphasis, however, in Raisin Dadre's supplementary remarks: They were performing some of Josquin's earliest chansons, and sought some of the monophonic tunes (from e.g. Bayeux Manuscript, which has had dedicated releases in the past....) for context. Now with the new album, that's the theme, exploring songs of "common people" — via both the monophonic compilations of the later 15th century & the art song reworkings of those popular tunes. And there's still a lot of variety to the instrumentations, including even spinet at times, a generally boisterous "Renaissance" vibe, but I'm also finding the result to be more idiomatic & appealing, maintaining a sort of gravity with the monophonic tracks.... Of course, this version of "popular music" is still what comes down to us in writing, further seeming incongruous here with its big groups of expensive instruments.... It's also worth thinking back to the previous Josquin album, i.e. contrasting his own sense of "populism" (or simply of quoting popular tunes...) with e.g. a relatively acerbic devotional stance later, and what can really seem at times to be a bourgeois mentality. Anyway, I found L'amour de moy, taking up more or less where the Josquin program left off, to be more appealing than I was really expecting. Certainly the basic question of everyday rustic (or urban...) music-making is an interesting one.

And I feel as though I should also note the new Josquin recording from Swiss choral group Gli Angeli Genève. Apparently director Stephan Macleod takes some cues from working with Paul Van Nevel, but the group itself deals mainly with Baroque music, especially Bach. It shows here, especially in the tempi & dynamics, and the general sense of naturalizing later musical styles & choices as if they were always current.... As with some similar efforts during the Anniversary year then, the sound is enjoyable at first, but I get tired of it pretty quickly: There isn't much ongoing coherence after the openings, tending toward the sort of "distant sighing" that's characterized so many EM renditions over the years.... (There's also a lot of talk in the included notes, particularly in an interview where at one point Macleod says he hasn't listened to others perform this music. Okay....) It's a pleasing choice of program though, some great music, and I guess I'm still feeling I should note these releases here, for now at least.... (But maybe that's useless? I'm not sure when I stop mentioning "everything" after the Anniversary....)

Continuing with the next volume of Machaut from Obsidienne (some of whose releases I seem to have missed, probably amid the demise of Harmonia Mundi distribution...), their new series is actually titled more generally than Machaut, so who knows what (if anything...?) might be next, but the second volume (recorded at a later date) is of more distinct interest than the first (as reviewed here in April), presenting two of Machaut's lengthy lais (rather than a more arbitrary program): The Lai de la Rose had only been recorded once before (in 1988, on solo flute), but the Lai de la Fonteinne — which involves responses in 3-part canon — was e.g. released recently by the Orlando Consort (as recorded a month earlier than Obsidienne's, and just reviewed here in July — where in fact I'd remarked that the lai had seemed relatively less prepared, at least per the high standards of that project). So these are more specific contributions to the discography, and again present colorful interpretations, including changing the lead voice (as the Orlando Consort has done at times as well, for the same reason, the large range). I also enjoy the sonorities of the voices here, along with most of the varying "background," which is generally lively, maybe on the theatrical side (including short spoken intros...), dance-like at times... i.e. sort of the opposite of the more starkly nuanced Orlandos. The Lai de la Fonteinne is then presented both as a secular-sacred hymn to the Virgin & as Machaut's meditation on the Trinity (via the 3-voice canons...), so as a major work (as recorded already e.g. by Binkley & the Davieses). Of course, Bonnardot himself has a significant history with Machaut's monophonic music in particular, i.e. especially with his long-admired Ay mi! solo album, and it's no surprise to find strong readings again here. So as noted, I don't know where this series is headed, but "Vol. 2" is of clear value. (On the down side, the many track breaks can be awkward for streaming....)

Then there's the latest volume from the Orlando Consort Machaut Edition, a second release in the series already for this year, and apparently the penultimate. The series in general has been improving its interpretive command from volume to volume — & also interestingly, its recording clarity... presumably as part of moving to high-def (still releasing CD format as well, which is mostly what I have...), but also apparently with some fits & starts around engineering the music. But here some tracks, the long lai in particular, seem a bit less prepared & refined. Maybe they're rushing to finish? (I don't want to be a rumor monger, as I don't have hard facts, but my understanding is that Hyperion has been sold, so maybe there's an urgency to finish....) Many of the performances here are still quite nice though, as e.g. the big late 4-voice motets receive vibrant readings, yet none are actually first recordings either. That said, with only one volume remaining (although that wasn't reiterated by this release...), it might also be time to start reflecting on the whole series, which began in 2012: Will it really be complete? (I note the title doesn't actually include the word "complete," although I'd felt it was implied....) For one, will they be recording the mass? I wouldn't be surprised if that's the climax. (The Orlando Consort has recorded the mass already on a mixed early & contemporary program under Paul Hillier. And I should probably note as well their Dreams in the Pleasure Garden album from 1997, from which they've now re-recorded most but not all of the songs.... Note also that the latter involved two of the four singers from the current Machaut Edition, while the mass recording from 2007 was with three of four.) Regardless, they surely won't be recording all of the lais, as they've now recorded only 6 of 19. (Five of the lais have never been recorded, per our materials, while at this point, the only other unrecorded piece is the ballade #11 in two parts....) The remainder of the works not yet appearing in the Edition would also seem to fill a program by themselves (i.e. minus the Mass): Six ballades (including #11), five motets (of which #24 was already noted as dubious), three rondeaux, four virelais & the hocket.... (The latter has been recorded vocally, e.g. by Ensemble Cappella, so it's not out of the question here.) So we'll see what happens. Perhaps some of the other pieces are now regarded as spurious? If so, that information hasn't filtered down to me.... (Oh, and I did update the rambling comments on this series over at my personal lists, although as noted there, I should really write something more coherent once the series concludes....)

And I should probably also mention the new Vinders recording here: He's a relatively obscure figure, of the generation of Gombert, known for his lament on Josquin's death. His taste in material for mass cycles is also intriguing, e.g. Josquin's Stabat mater & Ockeghem et al.'s Fors seulement (& do note that the Myns liefkens bruyn ooghen cycle on the new double album was also set e.g. by Bauldeweyn...), so there's a sort of appeal to the music — but I wouldn't say it really stands out. It might be fair to say that Vinders was in the orbit of the great composers. I also want to note the performance, apparently by a student choir, as led by longtime period choral director David Skinner. (The very accomplished Andrew Lawrence-King also participates on some tracks, so this can't be considered an obscure production.) While the result isn't as crisp as one might expect from a professional ensemble, it does seem as though they generally "get" the music. I think this new generation is really ready to sing the Franco-Flemish polyphony: Particularly with simplified release channels, are we about to see an explosion of available readings? (That certainly won't solve all of our problems these days, but it'd at least help make Western music history less opaque....)

The new Barbireau album from Beauty Farm (recorded earlier this year) generated some buzz in my inbox before I (or correspondents) could hear it. Barbireau is that sort of enigmatic figure: He died young, his output was mostly destroyed by revolutionaries (or vandals, depending on perspective) & his pieces are mostly unica. Like Ockeghem, he wrote in extended free counterpoint, generating flowing lines without a sense of systematic technique, but also with a strongly sculpted sense of musical result. I went ahead & discussed some aspects of his modest output then, in the discussion of the new album for my personal list, and I do indeed find the new program to be intriguing (with the motet Osculetur me needing no disclaimer...), while the interpretations from Beauty Farm show yet another step in terms of clarity of conception & articulation of the polyphony. (There's also a new singer taking the top line, so I thought I'd note here that I'd encountered him a little earlier, on De Labyrintho's Josquin anniversary album.) Since I already wrote some other remarks there though, I want to undertake a few tangents here: For one, in terms of musical availability, I feel as though I must note — contra e.g. the download-only Obrecht reviewed here in April (that I'm told will also receive a physical release later in the year) — that this Barbireau album became available as a physical release in the US prior to any download (or e.g. UK availability). It's almost as if they're trying a different release channel-mechanism for every album.... (But maybe this is also part of moving to 24bit recordings? It really seems bizarre to me how mysterious the music industry has become again in the 2020s, not unlike Barbireau's music I suppose....) I also went ahead & made a Barbireau discography page for the FAQ. And so I should discuss the Clerks' album as well: This was the first "full" Barbireau album, recorded in 1999, and made a splash at the time, in part because it was the first time the group had been recorded singing straight from choirbook notation. It's partly that the five-voice mass cycle is set higher (& comes off lighter?), i.e. seemingly with more of a showpiece orientation, that it made less of an impression on me. (They recorded the motet too, on an earlier program. Not that I ever really loved the Clerks' interpretive style.) As over on the "personal remarks" page then, I do still have some ambivalence around the four-voice cycle too & specifically its affectivity: I mentioned what's perhaps a kenotic quality, suggesting a sense of Zen I guess (ahistorical as it is...), maybe even a kind of atheist-humanist mass? The model is unknown, and I certainly wonder if it was already "perverse" itself, and even by Barbireau, the cycle being an expansion.... (The latter's also nothing like the relatively straightforward Barbingant cycle from Beauty Farm's previous album, although confusing the two composers does apparently date back to the era. Indeed, when the previous album was announced, I was thinking it was Barbireau.... Now it is.) Anyway, the somber quality of the Missa Faulx perverse, together with the way it seems to go off on "tangents" to pull itself apart-together, does contrast with Barbireau's other cycle, and especially in the latter's Clerks' rendition, where women's voices are quite prominent: I've tried to take an open position on gender in performance here, and readers will note that I do still recommend some mixed voice readings, but the all-male ensemble of Beauty Farm does seem especially apt in this material, ritualistically somehow.... (And note that, as constructed around one voice to a part, Beauty Farm cannot currently render Barbireau's Missa Virgo parens Christi, because the individual parts have "divisi" & so must be doubled....) So Barbireau was a powerful thinker of the idiom, and didn't need a cantus firmus, or another mechanical procedure, to structure a coherent work — to the extent that he even "plays" with this sense of coherence in the Missa Faulx perverse, although his career was doubly truncated, so we can barely even contextualize it.... But he appears to have been a powerful rhetorical thinker, maybe even hearkening back to a figure such as Zacara (pace the September 2021 review here...), and certainly in a different direction from the mechanical-"minimalist" Josquin. (E.g. while Josquin frequently reduces to duos, Barbireau might split voices in two "within" the texture.... The latter does project his own feelings of restraint, though, so doesn't present as any sort of "maximalist.") As I keep saying then, the present mass cycle seems unique, but I retain some uncertainty on how to judge it. It could rise higher in my estimation with time — but this does seem to be about all there is from Barbireau, unfortunately.

There's also another new Machaut album, now from Ensemble Obsidienne: It's a dense program of many tracks, including text recitations & a variety of colorful orchestrations, figured as a "virtual production" — in lieu of public performance during the pandemic. (So it was recorded in 2020 — & apparently there's also a Youtube video.) The effect is thus far more theatrical than what I usually feature here, the title raising a "voyage to the heart," almost a fantasia on Machaut, via shifting use of forces.... (The orchestrations involve ringing thirds at times too, presumably to satisfy contemporary audiences. There's a kind of "warmth" to the result.) The included discussion even raises the notion of "illumination," which doesn't seem inappropriate. (As it happens, the latest release from Blue Heron is similarly derived from a stage production. In an earlier era, there was La Nef.... And it's not as though the classic Ensemble Gilles Binchois programs are so very different in conception, also involving text & instrumental variety, but there the vibe is still more "home audio" — i.e. more akin to a book than theater.) There's also a very immediate feel to the production, bucolic, yet highly orchestrated, boisterous & even hurried.... (It squeezes a lot of Machaut's music into not quite an hour.) There're thus some great moments, occasionally more intimate (pace e.g. Bonnardot's own solo Machaut album, which couldn't otherwise be more different in its bare, fragile intensity...), mostly later in the program, but it's generally more about extrovert variety than it is detailed passagework. So while I wouldn't say that Voyage au cœur du Moyen Âge involves an additional understanding of Machaut's music (although the all-vocalized hocket is a less standard approach...), it might well attract new listeners....

And although I didn't know it was coming while writing the previous entry, let me turn now directly to the new Obrecht album from Cappella Pratensis. That album reprises the Missa Maria zart from the Beauty Farm set (& e.g. the prominent Tallis Scholars reading...), and for the first time here, I find myself downgrading a Beauty Farm rendition — relatively speaking. Per the included notes, it seems that the Cappella Pratensis interpretation actually originated around the same time, as its roots lie in a 2018 conference (around the time of which, with unclear connection, the Beauty Farm recording was made...), after which they continued to perform & refine the work, emphasizing its metrical (mensural) intricacies. (The pandemic brought extra time & an increased focus on this work, it would seem.) The articulation is consequently at a new level, and so I've added this reading to my personal list: As stated there, it's more of a "cool" rendition, versus the always-passionate Beauty Farm, and so takes a bit of patience to appreciate. After all, it's a very long mass setting — the longest of its era — spinning out seemingly endless sequences, relying on constant shifts of meter & inflection. (As also noted in the personal list remarks, the intent was apparently to make the German song as audible as possible, as its hearing was supposed to convey benefits for the listener, including relief from syphilis!) The technical precision here also marks a new turn for Cappella Pratensis: I think it's fair to say that they've been an ensemble that I've "wanted" to enjoy more than I actually have.... I mean, the sophisticated engagement is evident, but their programs tended to include a lot of (ritualistic) fluff, a tendency to superius-dominated textures, and e.g. some rhythmic unwinding at times (from their Stewart days...). That's not to say that setting is unimportant, as I think various aspects of situation are critical to study, but that doesn't mean that I want to hear them all here in 2023, i.e. whenever I want to hear music.... (Stewart also seemed to be ideologically opposed to strong rhythmic contours, for some reason.) Anyway, they've been under Stratton Bull for a while, and their singers do generally have wonderful tone (in spite of the doubling/tripling here...), but this release also presents a conscious shift for them: Bull specifically cites "a closer examination of the work in terms of its musical coherence" (or what I sometimes call elsewhere "nuts & bolts...") as a new emphasis here, replacing the orientation on liturgical context. To me, this is part of rejecting a reductionist view, i.e. of prioritizing some (single) aspect of musical expression over others.... Such a shift is of course quite welcome, and joins their already-welcome emphasis on vocal tone. (There's also talk of "surround sound" in the accompanying literature, but I've encountered only a standard CD-quality stereo release, i.e. with less presence than some other current releases, but with nicely recorded details once attention is attuned....) So there isn't a lot of ecstasy here, less of a "push" presentation one might say, more unhurried, but it does draw & reward listener attention over time. The work itself seems to require patience, and that's matched by the (highly measured) performance. (And it seems, moreover, perhaps to herald more precise rhythmic articulation in Josquin or La Rue too....) I wouldn't say it's "100% coherent" yet, since there're still a few awkward moments, but maybe closer than ever to really being able to "hear the score" rendered directly into sound, in this case, basically an unprecedented study in rhythmic subtlety & metrical changes per se....

I still don't have information (not even catalog number...) to make a file (& I'll add the link here once available...), but some readers may have noticed a "new" Sound and the Fury recording labeled "Obrecht: Mass" available on streaming services. As noted, I don't have any production information about this recording (& the Fra Bernardo web site hasn't been updated since last year, while the distributor is apparently undergoing some kind of reorg, already per February comments below...), but it's easily available to hear online. (The situation thus seems quite strange. Will this become normal, i.e. recordings released without info?) So the contents are Obrecht's Missa Salve diva parens & a Salve regina — drawn to my attention by a reader. (I also haven't tried to determine which setting of the Salve regina, as there're three extant, but this reading is rather dense & ends abruptly....) I did add preliminary entries to the Obrecht discography, as well as to the SATF page. I would also guess this is an older recording: Their most recent release had been the La Rue anniversary set recorded in 2013 & released in 2018 — i.e. the 2013 date being contiguous with when they'd been active. This recording is probably similar, or maybe even earlier, e.g. unreleased at the time of their Obrecht 1 set (recorded in 2008).... It's a generally loud performance with a lot of buzzing bass, also many track breaks & a similar sort of boisterous quality as e.g. the old A:N:S series (begun in 1998), but also generally a choppy reading, rather heavy... with Obrecht's typical soaring lines never really taking off. Still, it's good to have another Obrecht cycle on record (& this isn't a first recording, but it's the first for the mass since the LP era...), and I'm assuming the details of the recording will actually appear at some point.... (I feel as though what I have to say about the performance is settled though, so might as well make this entry now, since who knows about the timing....) It doesn't seem to set any new standards then, in repertory or performance.

I decided to have a listen to the Huelgas Ensemble's new Polyphonic Masses album of music by Ludwig Daser: I'm often resistant to move later into the 16th century here, but Daser suggests a sort of old-fashioned style that reminds me of music from a few decades prior. That's not to say that I want to hail being old-fashioned per se as a kind of virtue, but in particular, his cycle on Josquin's Praeter rerum seriem is impressive & satisfying (especially for this late date). It's not entirely a parody mass either, as Daser creatively reinjects elements of cantus firmus as well.... There's also his take on a Missa Fors seulement — and Van Nevel doesn't say why he doesn't record the Credo — but that mass cycle is less satisfying in general, pace an extensive Kyrie... while obviously evoking the fifteenth century. (Van Nevel calls it more an example of Daser's "everyday" music, versus the "monumental" Missa Praeter rerum seriem.) These mass cycles are also from the first half of Daser's career — after which he moved from Munich to a Protestant court in Stuttgart — & so Van Nevel intends a second volume, i.e. of Protestant hymns, etc.... And while it's tempting to think of Daser as a sort of fringe figure who happened to write a piece that I'm particularly enjoying today, it should probably also be noted that he appears to have been a mentor to Lassus, after being a student of Senfl. (That said, there probably are more fringe figures who wrote pieces that I'd enjoy today....) As far as the performance, it's clear & quite solid, with Van Nevel explicitly defending his use of more than one singer to a part as appropriate to the historical context....

I ended up having to wait a while to hear it, but the new Unicum by Ensemble Leones of songs from the Leuven Chansonnier (a c.1470 compilation discovered only in 2015...) does end up being a great addition to the discography, highlighting the unique pieces from that source. (The written materials arrived promptly, but Naxos USA seems to be undergoing some kind of reorg — or maybe it's about weather & mail terrorism in this case, since the CD still hasn't appeared in the US.... However, Naxos is usually responsive for me, and it's been silence so far this year....) So as noted in the entry for my personal list, the performance draws on the group's ongoing experience, particularly with their Chansonnier Cordiforme album (recorded in 2014), and continues to develop a wonderful style, originally from the instrumentalists, but increasingly involving the repertory's best vocalists as well. Of course, there's also the Sollazzo Ensemble series — having itself completed two of a planned four albums devoted to the complete manuscript — & theirs is worthwhile too. But whereas Leones is at the height of its powers, Sollazzo is developing a style... & so in their case, the Leuven Chansonnier seems to involve a double process of discovery.... (And I do expect the project to be quite meaningful for developing that group.) Marc Lewon of Leones also mentions the somewhat paradoxical interest in these anonymous songs (as none are attributed in the source...), which are usually ignored historically, but are suddenly the objects of intense study here, apparently for no real reason other than remaining hidden so long.... It'll also be a while before I have as deep a reaction to these items as to some other "hits" of the period, but they seem promising, including on an individual level.... So, particularly as it focuses on otherwise unknown material, Unicum ends up being an easy album to add to my list of mid-15th century favorites.

There's always a question of what to write about here.... I mean, there're some releases where I'll definitely have something to say, but there're also releases of more mixed programs, maybe some greatest hits, younger ensembles getting started.... And of course there's a matter of repertory, especially as I've been leaving more of the monophony aside: The Italian Ars Nova can exemplify this situation — & do note that French Ars Nova programs that aren't dominated by Machaut have never really been prominent... — especially as they're so often mixed programs recycling many of the same "hits" from what is actually a rather large repertory. So I do want both to affirm my interest here in Ars Nova polyphony (& through the Ars Subtilior into Burgundian music & the Josquin generation...) & to support new performers. In the former case, I might prefer more systematic programs... although there've been a few over the years devoted to Italian Ars Nova composers (& other than Landini), and in the latter, there's always (also) a question of the "tone" here. So to turn to the recent Sento d'amor la fiamma by the previously unknown-to-me "I Trobadores" ensemble, I hear a generally colorful program featuring a variety of instrumental playing, prominently reeds, but the usual gamut, and especially in dance music of the period, earlier sources such as the Rossi Codex, but into more variety too, including Landini et al. (And I should emphasize that while Landini is surely the biggest name in this repertory, unlike Machaut, he isn't almost bereft of quality, named colleagues: Several Italian composers seem to offer real catalogs, develop personal styles.... Landini was quite prolific, though.) The vocal articulation seems relatively stiff, however, and there's a sort of "roughness" to the result, including some questionable tuning. (Or maybe this is part of the rethinking, but it does seem the singing needs more practice. And there's an "out there" track, opening with around 90 seconds of snapping & windy desolation... not unlike some programs including a contemporary composition, I suppose.) There's also quite a bit of unison doubling, and the sound can be heavy or even foggy sometimes. There tends to be a good energy though, pressing forward, and the distinctiveness of Italian Ars Nova music is emphasized. (There's a corresponding de-emphasis of the French influence, and one does wonder how much of that was simply the notation per se. This production's point about the Italian repertory seeming quite mature from an early date does seem valid. Of course, the Italian music also feeds directly into the subsequent Ars Subtilior repertory, much of which is tied to Italy or thereabouts, even if it was more often written in French....) So yes, let's see/hear where this young group of musicians goes from here....

The 9th volume (including reiterating that it's of a projected 11) of the Orlando Consort Machaut Edition appeared this month, devoted entirely to Machaut's most famous secular cycle (i.e. dit amoureux), Remede de Fortune: Although the monophonic pieces opening the cycle (& there's far more of this text that isn't set to music, plus they omit some verses from the long Complainte...) can seem over-extended, the sequence as a whole includes some of Machaut's most directly enjoyable music — revelatory when I first heard it. And the Orlando Consort's experience in the work is basically unparalleled at this point, having been engaged in this particular recording project since 2012 (after having recorded e.g. a Machaut album for DG in 1997), and so they do bring both a wonderful sense of pace & diction to the monophonic pieces as well as a sort of airy lightness to the polyphony.... The whole thing seems fresh & unpretentious. (But I do suppose that the performance would be more impressive per se had one singer handled the entire, virtuosic Lai....) Anyway, this is a fine addition to their Edition, especially given the extensive competition, and was of course added to the existing entry on my personal list. I'd also neglected to discuss the previous volume, The Lion of Nobility here in 2021, because I didn't really have much to say about it specifically, but the project does continue to be of high value, including of course turning to the Remède here.... I guess I also feel that, ultimately, the biggest value of this Edition will be in its completeness, i.e. the chance to reference various pieces according to the same performance approach. (So at some point, I should probably also plan some more overall thoughts on the complete Edition....)

Perhaps it started to feel like a long wait for remarks on the new Tinctoris / Barbingant album from Beauty Farm, but it's nothing compared to the old days of waiting for several weeks for CDs to arrive from Europe.... The novelty in this case, though, was that I was already able to hear the music online — but not to read the liner notes. (And one never knows if liner notes will be worthwhile until one reads, but it seems irresponsible to write a review without considering what the producers have to say.... And in some ways, as a writer, I like the idea of making the writing something of a premium feature, but this only works if it's readily obtainable! OK....) Anyway, I'd already enjoyed the music, especially the Tinctoris mass, and so added the album to my personal list before it actually arrived. As those remarks emphasize then, I'm particularly taken by the Tinctoris cycle, perhaps because it's in three voices at this late date.... There's something masterful & summarizing (& economical? hence intensifying spirituality?) about it, increasingly seeming like its own apex, or perhaps antapex, because this piece does aim for the depths.... The Barbingant I enjoy too, and it has a sort of melodic intricacy, i.e. beyond the Faugues reference that comes to mind, but I'm also not hearing it as a major work in the same way. Performance-wise, Beauty Farm continues to show no compromises, performing the entire album with a bare three singers: The sound is huge, though, very present... almost needing to be turned down in order to process. (But I stopped turning it down after a while.) And as noted over in the "list" remarks as well, an obvious parallel for the Tinctoris mass is the Ockeghem Missa Quinti toni (pace that the old 3-part "Ockeghem" Missa Sine nomine is now attributed to Tourout, per remarks here around the album devoted to that previously obscure figure...), a rather different summit, and also recorded by Beauty Farm — in fact, for their only other single disc release! The Ockeghem is a rather more luminous piece, even delicate, exploring modal harmony in more vertical fashion than Tinctoris, but the latter's cycle is also notable for its range, i.e. the bass voice set almost in relief, thus seemingly inspired by Ockeghem (if not by his own 3-voice mass...). There's almost a prophetic, future-oriented & virtuosic, vibe from this seemingly retrospectively oriented cycle.... And this is the third recording (I believe...) of the Tinctoris Missa Sine Nomine No. 1, but clearly also its most emphatic & expressive: The entire cycle comes off much more compellingly than other Tinctoris mass material too, e.g. as anthologized on the Miroir de Musique album (or via the old Clerks' Group album from 1997, which did seemingly select his two most appealing cycles nonetheless...). Maybe there wasn't so much contemporary enthusiasm for Tinctoris because there wasn't anyone (with the stature) to express it? He seems increasingly to belong in this conversation as much more than a (mere) theorist.

After The Dufay Spectacle, I'd remarked that Gothic Voices should consider another album devoted to Dufay. Instead it seems that they've continued to record Dufay, including more isorhythmic motets, but amid more general programs: The Splendour of Florence thus joins Echoes of an Old Hall in featuring Franco-Flemish polyphony, including by Dufay, around a semi-particular context. Technically, The Splendour of Florence is actually a more coherent program (versus the awkward "Reverberances" linkage to Old Hall...), but I can't say that I've really loved it as an album. So this reaction raises additional questions about these sorts of comments in 2022: There's an attempt to "forge an album" here, including some small thematic groupings & plainchant insertions, but isn't the "natural outcome" for an endeavor such as this actually a bunch of individual tracks on random play? In other words, I'm not sure the effort to make this program cohere is actually necessary or even worthwhile, but I'm also not sure what to do about a sort of track-by-track response: It seems too much, but then per remarks I've been making lately on Ars Nova music, perhaps it's also a sign that my comments need to move into a different register, i.e. as a new generation of performers proceeds, in general, with the level of technical polish that I'd long been wanting here.... (So in the context of comments in this space from many years ago, these are now all excellent performances.) Of course, Gothic Voices also happens to be a kind of amalgam of a new generation of performers with an "old" ensemble, and mixed programs of this sort were prominent in their prior run. It's also that much easier e.g. simply to program digital Dufay tracks from other releases into one's own pseudo-album, which I believe I'll do here.... That said then, The Splendour of Florence also marks Gothic Voices' debut in the Ockeghem discography, including a pleasing (if a bit muddy, particularly pace the history of this group...) Alma redemptoris mater (the Ockeghem motets suddenly not having been recorded so often recently). The program underlines the distinctive sophistication of Compère's chanson writing for me too, as well as the fact that Busnois remains increasingly spectacularly neglected.... (I mean, when I learned this music from Reese so many years ago, it was Busnois who was presented as Ockeghem's nearest peer, and indeed as his superior in secular music!) Oh, and I also enjoy the twangy harp here, even as the texture is overwhelmingly vocal (thus making for a ready comparison with the Orlando Consort in some of this material...). I don't know, but despite good ingredients, the result here (i.e. the overall program) still seems forced to me (perhaps even hastily assembled), even as I do welcome more attention to the 15th century.... I also have to wonder if this response will seem rather inadequate in a few years, assuming I'm mainly interacting with this series as isolated tracks....

And I should note the new Remede de Fortune from Blue Heron: I've actually been monitoring them, so to speak, waiting for their second volume of Ockeghem Songs, which was promised for 2022 (& which, I'll admit, was on my mind in part because I started naming records of the year again last year...): The good news on that is that, although they now say 2023, the final installment of the series is portrayed, with a cover & everything, in the discography appearing in the back of the Remede de Fortune release notes.... Remede de Fortune is a live concert recording, however, from 2019, and I suspect the release was substituted due to (pandemic-related) delays in preparing the Ockeghem. So I don't think things were exactly planned this way, and their Remede de Fortune isn't nearly as polished overall as the first Ockeghem volume, but does also include many fine moments. (In particular, the degree of mastery in vocal articulation seems to vary from track to track....) It's not all of the music from Machaut's Remède either, truncating the longer & more repetitive items, but also includes various other pieces as well — to reflect more of the content of the substantial unscored portions of the poem. The original production was also a multimedia concert, including more poetic recitation (a small amount of which is retained...) & projection of the illuminations. So again, I don't think the CD release was really the intent, but there're some excellent tracks. (It follows their A 14th-Century Salmagundi, earlier readings released early in the pandemic period, presumably as an alternative to concert activity....) It's a difficult field, though, in that much of the 14th century has been rendered coherently at this point, making interpretations more a matter of personal choice.... (There's plenty of music in the 15th century & into the Josquin generations that hasn't been rendered coherently, as of yet, so I consider my role around that here to be a little different....) The sound quality of the concert recording is also less crisp, etc. Still, 2022 has been a slow year for medieval music, especially after the relative explosion of important items in 2021, so it's good to hear this....

Mouton is then another composer in the immediate wake of Josquin whom I've auditioned over the years, at one point excited to hear more, but never really had click (so to speak...). Following the Willaert comments, and with a second album from the Brabant Ensemble appearing this month, this also seems like a good time to offer some further interrogation in this space: I'd suggested that Willaert can come off as Gloria after Gloria, a sort of ongoing exaltation buoyed by concepts of alternation & ultimately architectural solidity & resonance... leading straight into the Venetian school. Mouton likewise can be affectively monotone, perhaps even more in the realm of "prettiness," or per some quotes from Rice's notes, "gentle & delicate," "loosely imitative and texturally light" & finally "uncomplicatedly joyful." However, Mouton — who died in 1522, so 500 years ago — also shows a real flair for both melody & counterpoint (e.g. in various solemn canons), taking up a variety of musical figures & contrapuntal arrangements straight from Josquin (as with the Faulte d'argent mass here), and so a general description of his music might suggest that I'd particularly enjoy it. It continues to leave me flat, though, aside from this generally pleasant, decorative aspect. And Brabant is generally a "pretty" ensemble itself, so it does seem like a good combo.... (Mouton can indeed seem very French, and worked the last 20 years of his career at the French royal court. One might even suggest a sort of "French cleverness" to his music, in contrast to Willaert's. And of course, continuity with the subsequent Parisian chanson....) I'm actually wondering more about Mouton's chansons at this point, though, as recordings have generally featured his sacred music (an orientation grounded in his own name, apparently...), but what he really seems to lack are "big picture" ideas. (Of course, unlike Willaert, classic musicologists never made a case for Mouton as one of the greats of his generation either.) His sacred output is indeed quite substantial, though, a complete edition underway.... The songs I don't really know: There're various "medievalisms" in Mouton's music too, partly just as a matter of its textural variety (& Mouton is texturally innovative too), but also as something that might appeal to a more old-fashioned listener: What I find, though, is that Mouton's (sacred) music tends to lack a directly communicative quality: It's highly decorated, including e.g. by canonic entries prior to their main articulations (to name one aspect that works against concurrent "understanding"), not so unlike some English cycles of the period (that similarly leave me unaffected) — versus e.g. Ockeghem or indeed Dunstaple, who offer a more coherent rhetorical sweep with direct affect. Textual references (that become increasingly prominent in Mouton's generation) thus become a kind of (musical) abstraction themselves, i.e. through which we're led to think about how the music corresponds to the text, rather than experience musical affect more directly.... The result can end up seeming monolithic, despite the (sometimes overwrought) contrapuntal variety. Mouton's "technical palette" is thus not unlike La Rue's, but his musical effectiveness seems considerably less, almost tending toward the vacuous (if I dare say...).

In some ways, Willaert has been an elusive composer for me: Sometimes I'll talk as if I haven't really heard much of his music, and he was indeed quite prolific, but then other times I realize that I've actually heard dozens of albums over the years.... These haven't necessarily resonated with me, though, as Willaert's rather broad output has proven difficult to render with passion. So although Willaert is still of the generation following my focus here — and I do continue to feature a smattering of repertory from the subsequent era of music publishing — I want to take a moment for a longer discussion of the recent series from Dionysos Now!, beginning with Adriano 1. I also have to apologize, because I don't have detailed information on these vinyl releases. I'm not "a vinyl person," but these are also available as downloads, albeit with limited info. (This sort of vinyl & download combo is becoming common in contemporary music too, but then the issue becomes whether the download includes the info. In this case, though, they are releasing a separate "book" but via LP channels. And if readers are curious about review copies, I do receive many review copies, but this situation is usually in flux. These days, that's almost entirely downloads, and many are simply "available" meaning that I have access to download them, but might not notice individual items, etc.... And the notes might or might not be included, although this aspect has been improving. And then things will also shift in availability as distribution changes, etc. I haven't wanted to pester artists about this, especially when they've hooked me up via prior distributors for instance, and I also made a firm policy decades ago not to let freebies dictate what I discuss, so I just kind of float through this situation as best I can.... After all, this is not really a profitable arena for anyone. I do appreciate when people think of me though....) That said, I've particularly enjoyed the Dionysos Now! albums, and they include top international singers, e.g. from Beauty Farm, including their leader Tore Tom Denys: Renditions emphasize line, not unlike Beauty Farm's recent recordings of Willaert's contemporary Gombert, but images also seem to show Denys conducting. The performances are quite strong, however, with a directness of expression & powerful momentum. So what about Willaert's music? I've been enjoying Adriano 1 a little more than Adriano 2, I guess, but the secular material included on the second program does add a further aspect to the survey — & provides some quite direct expressivity as well. (All performances in the series thus far are entirely vocal.) The sacred material, though, even as it's certainly masterful, does seem to involve more a sense of abstraction: Unlike with Gombert, who can of course be accused of affective monotony as well (or at least of not responding to texts particularly closely, per the prior entry here...), but with a sense of "flow" that I continue to enjoy, Willaert's music involves a variety of register changes & alternations, another way of filling sonic space with polyphony, but more starts & stops, more concern with mapping vertical space. There's thus a very "busy" (sloshing?) quality to much of this music, pervasive imitation animating entire coordinated textures motivically. It also comes off more as "decoration" than as expression per se, i.e. as pretty or even showy, energetic but at a remove from directness. (One can feel not only that Willaert heralds the subsequent Venetian repertory, which he certainly did, but the Baroque in general....) It's as if prior expression, i.e. that subsumed in chants or motets, is then simply duplicated & spread around a broader sonic space, illuminating every nook & cranny, so to speak.... (There's sometimes a resulting compactness from this verticality, more so than linear extension, but then these comments don't particularly apply to Willaert's songs....) Indeed, it's a style not unlike e.g. the most elaborate English masses of the period, saturated with figures, but basically non-rhetorical. (Maybe it can even be called architectural, particularly via use of register.) These programs can thus come off like Gloria after Gloria, but almost (or because of this...) at a distance. (Maybe there's even a sense of "discovering" the score, i.e. as a technology: The result does seem less spontaneous, even e.g. than Josquin masses, which already sound researched... and of course Willaert was to move on to Ricercari per se, i.e. to move to a further level of abstraction. The latter pieces do continue to seem seminal for me, but still not with a close affectivity — even as they lead into the history of developing notions of affect per se....) I do continue to enjoy various items from Willaert, though, and there're probably still pieces I'd enjoy more than others, but it's challenging to sift through his large output: Much of it would still be "showy" though, as e.g. the hypothetically attributed 7-part conclusion to the recent In memoria mea, or maybe even the climactic 12-part Inviolata on Odhecaton's Josquin anniversary program (which isn't actually suggested as by Willaert, but shows some similar traits), illustrate contextually.... I don't think there's any question of Willaert's historical importance, though, as Palestrina is really only more austere (but reflecting a similar abstraction...). As noted, one might even figure Willaert as the first Baroque composer, if one wants to be historically aggressive.... He more or less defines "ornate" in these works, while directly elaborating a post-Josquin style.

And Beauty Farm continue their focus on Gombert with a third double album of motets, rerecording some from prior releases (not to mention from earlier Sound and the Fury albums...), mostly because of new editions, i.e. those also used for their recent Gombert Masses discs (as reviewed here in December 2020): I feel as though the masses are basically stretched out motets sometimes, but did call that their "best rendition yet," emphasizing "flow" & letting the dissonance loose. (The included notes here characterize their approach as less smooth, though, i.e. because the dissonances aren't altered for vertical concerns, but for me, that ends up sounding flowing, i.e. lines not being bottled up by others....) So these latest discs of motets continue that approach. I've also noted, e.g. over in my personal list remarks, that I hadn't really discussed individual pieces: The notes for this issue then observe an "almost total absence of any relationship between music and text" in Gombert's music, i.e. a sort of generic style. Still, I find it fascinating, enjoyable & illuminating — even if the counterpoint can seem to have its own logic irrespective of the texts. (In that sense, Gombert marks an endpoint. And it also struck me that these liner notes use "ethereal" in a positive sense: I'd call this a very earthy rendition, and I mean that positively too!) Does that mean less emotional resonance then? I tend to think it points more toward (the still anachronistic for this period...) notions of "absolute music." The music also comes to sound almost spontaneous, as lines generate concords & discords seemingly of their own logic, projecting a sort of linear continuity further inflected by the continuity of this series of interpretations.... And so after recording Gombert motets in 2014 & 2016, Beauty Farm returns with these (relatively unspecified, presumably due to pandemic...) 2020/21 recordings, further positioning Gombert's music as a unique apex of Franco-Flemish counterpoint. As well as reflecting back, perhaps, on the latter's particular, overall logic.

I hadn't really noted Johannes Tourout (fl. 1460) before, so perhaps some preliminary thoughts are in order before turning to the recent dedicated album: Tourout was in the employ of the Habsburg Emperor Frederick III, so working mostly around contemporary Austria — but was apparently from the area of Tournai. He further appears to be a contemporary of Ockeghem, and compositions in parallel with Ockeghem's still seem in relatively short supply. However, his material survives (only?) from Central Europe, especially sources such as Codex Speciálník, and so although a few tracks had appeared over the years, I hadn't really noticed: I tend to think of those sources as emerging from cultural backwaters, and to be mainly useful for correlating versions of pieces and/or resolving scribal errors. I'm sure my response is quite unfair in many ways, but the more local music comes off relatively square-ish rhythmically to me, and (objectively speaking) its composers were not widely influential. But then there are apparently cases such as Tourout, a prestigious master being hired away from the core region.... And Cappella Mariana has indeed been performing the Central European sources in general, including some tracks from Tourout — including his "greatest hit" the motet O gloriosa regina mundi — prior to this. Thus they're clearly his main exponents, after musicologist Jaap van Benthem, that is, who prepared much of the material for publication. The latter includes reworking some pieces surviving with sacred texts "back" into chansons, and those are some of the most appealing tracks on this album... with the motets also having a distinct charm (& as everyone reading this surely knows, Ockeghem left few such works — the style very much being in flux in the interval between Dufay & Josquin...). That first section is the most consistently appealing part of the program, then, and (pace survival...) complete? Van Benthem has also attributed the three-voice Magnificat, but that hasn't made much impression on me.... The four-voice Missa Mon oeil is relatively grand, though, and has some appealing moments, a sort of sinewy delicacy in the Sanctus & evoking a strong chanson feel in the Agnus.... But they've also omitted the Credo without comment, and I suspect it's relatively tedious — as are parts of the (also long-texted...) Gloria. (The reconstructed secular model, included on the program as well, does also seem more like an academic exercise than something I needed to hear....) Moreover, and this is perhaps the most explosive observation: It's not stated with this release, but Benthem has also attributed the three-voice Missa Sine nomine previously attributed to Ockeghem to Tourout, publishing it as Missa primi toni.... (There's also at least one more mass cycle attributed to Tourout, whose name has been spelled variously over the centuries.....) In any case, Cappella Mariana does adopt a soprano-topped texture, but projects nice clarity overall. They come to this survey with plenty of experience, and seem to bring out the main features of the music well. (I should also note that the Passacaille label, like Tourout also from Belgium, seems to have really stepped up its production of intriguing items lately....) So Portrait of an Imperial Cantor is already an interesting presentation, and might herald more...?

La Reverdie has been around since the 1980s, and has made many albums: I tend to associate their style with more outdoors or folksy music, but they've recorded a variety of more sophisticated contrapuntal material at times as well. It still involves extensive instrumental doubling, and with a more "festive" Italianate air than some other groups, but their latest album Lux Laetitiae does make some real "technical" contributions, particularly with three major pieces by Dunstable & Power. (The opening track, by Binchois, feels more like a rhythmic processional, i.e. laud-like....) The largest part of the program is actually devoted to Dufay, though, and e.g. La Reverdie had already released Voyage en Italie 20 years ago (& then even a Missa Sancti Jacobi reading in 2006...), but Dufay releases are also (relatively) frequent in general lately: The obvious reference here is then not only to La Reverdie's own prior Dufay recordings, but e.g. to those of Cantica Symphonia, i.e. another Italian group. But the latter's landmark set is close to 20 years old too, and does start to feel dated. (And La Reverdie did also participate, only as instrumentalists, on last year's massive Giosquino program, another entry into "serious" polyphony....) Still, perhaps ironically, I didn't get much out of the Dufay tracks (compared e.g. to less foggy recent readings by Orlando Consort or Gothic Voices...), particularly compared to the Dunstable portion: I guess this really points to the fact that there hasn't been anything resembling a definitive investigation of Dunstaple's music on record, not even a dedicated program for many years.... (The Orlando Consort did recently release e.g. Beneath the Northern Star with a couple of significant tracks, as did Gothic Voices with Echoes of an Old Hall — both crisp all-vocal English readings, and in the former case, seemingly pairing, presumably coincidentally, with the first part of Florentine Renaissance to parallel much of the program on Lux Laetitiae....) Nonetheless there's a real solidity to the Dunstable tracks here (whereas the Power projects a wonderful sense of filigree via extending verses...), I guess some sort of Italianate Dunstaple then... complete with big cathedral resonance & surprisingly effective recorder parts (& sometimes chimes). The result is actually strongly affective, so makes for a notable release & via an unexpected combination....

Tant vous aime is then the first Josquin release since I wrote the anniversary discussion of recent recordings, still following what's become a trend of late to feature the secular music: In this case, instead of another program devoted to the so-called Seventh Book, Denis Raisin Dadre & colleagues address the (mostly earlier) secular music for e.g. three parts. (The Ricercar label thus presents an obvious pairing with their Ensemble Clément Janequin release of the later songs.) But the program also contains a variety of other material, not only (explicitly) music by other composers, but also some of the misattributed material that seems to follow Josquin around in this space. (It seems the program was selected for variety of sound, rather than anything to do with authenticity. The notes from David Fallows are worthwhile, though, and discuss the various circumstances — apparently reacting to the choice of program after the fact.) And as opposed to the landmark "nuts & bolts" Ensemble Leones reading of overlapping material, which does include some music by others (but perhaps in a more conscious way...), Tant vous aime also adopts more of a "Renaissance" style in terms of tuning & articulation, coming to sound almost like an Elizabethan program via its variety.... Sound is immediately "sweet" (& mean-tone), solemn to begin, but with a liveliness at times as well, even summoning a sense of lightness for some textures. (Raisin Dadre plays only winds here, and the bombard consorts might be the most stimulating tracks on the album....) In fact, there's a real sense of mastery developed here, some actual polish... — albeit directed differently from how I'd prefer: Immediate sonic impressions are thus that this is music of a later era from that of the Christophorus release, i.e. kind of musically disorienting from what I usually hear, but with a sophisticated recorded sound too.... (And we'll see if I continue to review every Josquin release from this point....)

I don't ordinarily feature mid-sixteenth century motet programs, or much post-Josquin music in general, but instrumental music does figure some of the repertory I've been following over the subsequent century or so, and that's thus included e.g. the Recercadas by Ortiz. (I had the second Savall program listed for decades, and since more recently the Cocset album. For many years, there was only Savall....) Indeed, it almost seems obligatory for me to make some remarks about the new Ortiz double album by Comet Musicke, especially considering that their (only) prior release was Quinze (recorded in 2018), i.e. right in the middle of my fifteenth century interests. The ensemble turning to Ortiz, generally more than a century later, thus feels strange in some ways — yet obviously reflects my own preferences in others. That said, the full-bodied motets, unusually (still for the period...) scored explicitly for voices & instruments, do provide a context for Ortiz's elegant instrumental selections, the latter (otherwise) suggesting more of a didactic program. There's also a sort of folksy quality to the interpretations here overall, similar in a sense to how Quinze presents, but there's also no recording date to be found. So although Caleidoscopio was released late last year (& I was slow to order a copy from France...), it's actually unclear if it even predates the relatively austere Cocset set (recorded in 2019 & also including a few other pieces for context). The heavy orchestrations & alternations aren't really my thing either (although can suggest e.g. English verse albums, perhaps...), but there's certainly an energy to the production, a boisterous quality that the more intimate instrumental tracks can almost seem to interrupt.... There's a feeling for the lyricism of the recercadas, then, but also a sort of rhetorical quality via rubato etc., interspersing & inflecting the larger motets in what can seem a "busy" production overall.... However, Ortiz's recercadas also focus on a sort of harmonized monody, i.e. exude linear concentration & rhythmic intricacy, while the motets (alternations & all) do present more of a polyphonic (& festive) environment. They were supposedly quite influential for a short period.... I probably won't be featuring more vocal polyphony from the era in general, though.

I also want to note the new Jenkins album from Phantasm: The program surveys the four-part consorts, thus completing their long-running survey of the 4-, 5- & 6-part fantasies, i.e. Jenkins' greatest works. (And it was actually recorded back in 2012, but released only now... presumably due to awkward "seams" in recording contracts. "Awkward seams" are something Jenkins himself really avoids...!) It's also an album involving organ for half the tracks, and the notes basically state that they wanted to include both performance styles: I still don't understand the choice, as the keyboard parts were clearly intended to help amateur players not to get lost. (They thus seem irrelevant for professionals, but I guess it's still a chance to hear these parts, which do date from the period itself....) And I do continue to enjoy the basic Phantasm sound, but in some ways, this entry is more about the previous Spirit of Gambo recording of the five-part consorts (from 2019), that I didn't even review.... I've now replaced the Phantasm album of that material on my personal list, though. And so I should probably offer some thoughts on my slowness to do so: As I mention there, I guess I was basically "hypnotized" by Phantasm, and their bright top-first sound, more harmonically compact than the more polyphonic approach of Spirit of Gambo. And in my defense, their early recordings did improve upon previous technique, but I also needed a bit of a kick in the pants (which a reader did provide last year...) to move off of the "favorite band" effect that'd developed for me, i.e. obscuring some actual attention to the details of the performances. (And they did make the first full recording of the 5-part fantasies, so that part is always going to be true....) Further, I'm not sure that it's really a defense, but of course the consort material has been something of an "adjunct" for me, in terms of extending some Franco-Flemish interests, etc. I've thus waffled on how much time to spend, leading basically to laziness in evaluating these choices. I definitely need to do better, though, because if I'm going to offer suggestions for this repertory at all, they need to be meaningful. (It should be that or nothing, right?) In any case, after a lapse, I feel I'm finally hearing this music more clearly, as well as confirming my specific interest in Jenkins.... As far as the 4-part consorts, though, I do still prefer those from Spirit to the recent Phantasm release, which comes off more monolithically (although still enjoyably...).

Maybe it's my imagination, but it seems as though releases of significant repertory for this space have become more frequent. Maybe that's just a short trend of the moment, or maybe the proliferation of publishing will mean increasing access to this repertory in quality, contemporary interpretations.... In that, it's appealing — at least to me — when musicians put out material systematically, whether completing a composer's output, some thematic genre (perhaps), or of course a period source: Leuven Chansonnier 2 is an album of the latter sort, the second of an intended four volumes to render this newly discovered (in 2015) source. I reviewed the first volume here back in 2019, noting its program around e.g. Ockeghem songs, as well as unica. Both continue into the second volume, although my impression is that the first program was generally stronger musically (& so we'll see about the third & fourth...). I also remarked upon the vocals & noted the prevalence of instrumental part doubling: This second volume continues with Ensemble Sollazzo under Anna Danilevskaia, then, but with different singers (to reflect the perspective of the songs, say the notes). And there is, if anything, an even busier quality, including e.g. unusual doubling of voices by shawms. There's quite a concern with the orchestration here, combining alta & bassa capella in novel ways, generally doing alternations, etc. To me this suggests a lack of trust in the material.... But there are still intriguing items, and more attention is surely warranted. Some of these other chansons, some lengthy, may end up resonating more than their initial impressions. And the renditions do involve considerable skill (with many of the musicians being, apparently, of a younger generation).

The Orlando Consort continues to be one of the hardest working ensembles in medieval music, at least when it comes to recording. And so I guess their latest, The Florentine Renaissance, should come as no surprise: Continuing on Hyperion, it not only marks a departure from their (presumably still ongoing) Complete Machaut series, while presenting new material, but is in some ways a followup to their Dufay album (released in 2019). Actually, upon returning to reference that album, there's no real genre overlap, as The Florentine Renaissance features a couple of grand isorhythmic motets, as well as e.g. a chanson setting repurposed for a laud text (as well as another by Binchois...), the latter leading into what otherwise seems like a very different (& longer) second half to the program, oriented more on laude & carnival songs around Lorenzo de' Medici & his fundamentalist "successor" Savonarola (who also apparently prompted e.g. Josquin's Miserere setting, not addressed in this program...). The latter then include a variety of music around Isaac, also involving a couple of (sometimes derivative) motets — but also a completely different body of work from e.g. another Isaac secular disc. In other words, after the imposing & technical Dufay motets, The Florentine Renaissance mainly features simpler material (some of it also being reconstructed & so the result of recent scholarship). And the liner notes are definitely long (& dense), connecting this material across generations in Florence, but the musical repertories are still rather distinct technically (& thus don't make for an obvious program combination). In any case, besides the two (isolated) Dufay motet tracks, which are immediately among the most intricate & striking performances of these great works (& I should add, I guess, that the performance of Dufay's cantilena Florentine motet is less remarkable...), the Orlando Consort does a nice job with much of the lighter material: The latter has more often been performed by more colorful ensembles (e.g. including percussion, etc.), but they're rather successful here in projecting a "catchy" quality with entirely vocal resources. (The bulk of the program isn't really music of high interest to me, though....) And I'd also like specifically to congratulate them, as an ongoing ensemble, for not trying to "force" their programs to be mostly (or entirely) of music for four voices. That's worth noting, and certainly adds to the quartet's flexibility.

So a couple of Josquin Year items that I hadn't reviewed are Volumes 9 & 10 of Maurice Bourbon's series of Josquin Masses. These issues apparently complete that series (& it's ten volumes instead of nine, as per the Tallis Scholars & Vocal Ensemble Cappella series, because some of Bourbon's own music is included on a couple of volumes, although not these...), but I also wasn't able to peruse the liner notes, so don't know e.g. recording dates. That suggests a brief digression here: Especially the past couple of years, I've moved more into listening to downloads, not only because of the cost (& this site takes in less money than ever these days... while no one really makes money recording this music, either), but because of the material consequences involved in packaging, shipping, etc. And then the downside is that downloads don't always include liner notes — which can be especially frustrating for a project such as this. In any case, I was indeed able to audition the remainder of Bourbon's series, if not to know some details. [ Edit: Both volumes were recorded in 2020. ] And of course, it's difficult not to turn to the Tallis Scholars series as a sort of reference for a similar project... not that I love everything about that series, but since it restarted, it simply offers the clearest articulation of most of these masses. While the "defects" in the sound, i.e. modern breath support & consequently sometimes strident blend around sopranos, are also found — if not more so — with Bourbon's group.... So in that sense, these series are comparable, and then, particularly by the end, the Tallis Scholars articulates everything so clearly, which I really appreciate, even if I don't really love their sound, while Bourbon is playing more with personal conductorial flourishes.... (And I feel as though the former needs to happen more regularly, or at all, before the latter starts making sense....) So what this basically means for me is that e.g. Bourbon's L'homme armé disc has been worthwhile, since the Tallis Scholars interpretation of that program is quite dated/eccentric (from the 1980s). I also find these later issues from Bourbon to be generally more forceful in their sweep, at least at times, but meandering or murky at others... often stylized (e.g. per typical contemporary choral approaches). But it's also worth hearing other takes on these masses, and Bourbon (originally an engineer...) has remained committed (& with a relatively big, spatialized sound by the end). It's not as though I consider any of the current readings to be amazing... just more steps in a process of interpretive discovery. Josquin's major mass cycles continue to be challenging music to understand & render, and these interpretations do develop a (somewhat coy) personality....

And I wasn't familiar with the Swiss ensemble Thélème prior to their Josquin Anniversary contribution, Baisiez moy, but their previous albums are a broad trilogy oriented on Janequin (that I obviously hadn't noticed). In that, their Josquin album recalls various aspects of the Parisian chanson, and so suggests elements of close compatibility with e.g. Ensemble Clement Janequin's new Josquin album, but they're also using self-consciously modern instruments — in fact, being technical, 20th century instruments, not 21st century instruments. In some ways this is a "spice" & I've enjoyed many of their lively interpretations here — perhaps focusing more on (vocal) effects than my preference in general, but yielding some rousing Josquin (with some very clear motivic articulation)... — but it's also apparently their thing. So let me give more specific impressions. The Buchla appears only on one strange track of buzzing that appears to have nothing to do with Josquin: This track is, uh, enigmatic. The Fender Rhodes, though, sounds more or less like some weird period keyboard. (The music comes through in a straightforward way.) And the ondes Martenot... definitely seems weird, and certainly nothing like instruments available in the past, but I've kind of come to enjoy that too (as a sort of "vocal" accompaniment — an alternate vielle). Of course, given the desire to use these particular instruments, I suppose there's no real reason for the group to be concerned with authorship either. That's largely ignored. But another secular album? My prior comments regarding their scarcity certainly seem to be receding into the past.... And it turns out that I've enjoyed much of Baisiez moy more than I really anticipated, yielding another look at Josquin's output, and especially his (early? epochal?) sense of motif-melody. There's a real whiff of "essence" here beneath the (sometimes self-conscious) weirdness. (And some tracks aren't "weird" at all.)

Not unlike the Josquin entry below, the new Ensemble Gilles Binchois album devoted to Dufay reprises, somewhat, their older disc from 1987. (So that's an even longer interval, but EGB has also been active this entire time....) And not to ruin the suspense, but I've added it to my personal list. Not so unlike the prior entry, though, there's little real conceptual update here. Rather, it's some younger (& older...) performers with a crisper style of articulation, & that much more precise with their period instruments too.... It's also basically the same arrangements of Dufay by David Fallows, dating back decades now. (And I'm not the first person to note that some updated settings would be worthwhile!) There are even the keyboard tracks that seem to define every Dufay chanson album... i.e. the Buxheim factor. So I don't hear a rethinking here at all, but it's still an enjoyable album in a straightforward way, colorful & clearly articulated. And to elaborate, particularly considering the "rethinkings" e.g. of contemporaneous secular material by Comet Musicke, or of epochal Josquin settings even more recently by Graindelavoix, it seems as though Dufay's songs are really calling out for a new treatment. This is some of the greatest material in Western music history, and e.g. the recent Zacara set (of music not so far removed, chronologically or geographically, from much of this...) also shows that the various stylistic strands can be interrogated in a richer & more detailed fashion.... (It's also been a long while since an all-vocal Dufay chansons album, i.e. the Northern orientation, appeared....) The overall flow here, nonetheless, is definitely enjoyable, on a wonderful "linguistic" foundation, and around an outstanding single-disc (approximately one quarter of the Dufay chansons...) program.

The Josquin anniversary continues, this time with a relatively obscure release by an ensemble that contributed more substantially to the discography about 15-20 years ago, namely De Labyrintho: Testolin states that this is their first recording "after ten years" & indeed that the program was one they'd developed back in 2001 (when they formed), but never recorded: It's an appealing program of motets around Jesus' birth, featuring the five-part motet (or five motets...) around the Vespers of In Circumcisionem Domini, but also gears up a larger ensemble for Praeter rerum seriem (which, apparently, Testolin wished he could make even bigger?), and is probably at its richest (interpretively) with the final genealogy motet, Factum est autem (perhaps not coincidentally, appearing recently on The Spirit like a Dove..?). All in all, though, the concept doesn't really seem updated, as the various tracks tend to run together in their impressions, with some fuzzy articulation & passages that don't always seem particularly integrated to the flow. (In this, I'd say the group's "best" album is still Musica Symbolica, recorded in 2004. That album seems more vibrant, in the "thick" of their sonic investigations of the time....) In any case, In principio did give me a renewed prompt to revisit those older albums — once again in Italianate renditions (although less colorful than some of the other Italian anniversary albums here...) — & also to hear updates on some different motets. I'm still waiting on that "big impact" Josquin motet collection, though....

I haven't tended to note interpretations with later stylistic orientations in this space, but did say I'd review all of the Josquin anniversary issues, and have already started in that direction.... So, Josquin's Legacy by The Gesualdo Six does actually present an appealing approach to vocal tone (both high & low...), although it's clearly oriented on later music: The liner notes even begin by linking the program to Gesualdo! But at least that's clear & sincere. In any case, although the singing is "impressive" & the program is (in principle) appealing, the later style tends to wash right over me... the sequence of "points of imitation" blurring from one into the next. Without the fifths ringing out, the acoustic structural markers just aren't there, and it produces a hazy feeling for me (even a headache — & in another sense, does actually make the singing more impressive, since the references aren't there). The notes also ignore matters of "approach" to the music, instead suggesting or implying various universalizing messages, i.e. about how music "just is," i.e. in some timeless way — such that I found myself thinking of these performers as simply reading a choral score (once set into contemporary format...) as they would any other... although there's also a sophistication here suggesting more than that (presumably via their regular, 17th century orientation). And there's a sort of prettiness & grit together in the vocal tone that I do enjoy, as well as impressive (e.g. rhythmic) precision & articulation, even if the whole production seems bizarrely anachronistic.... (Opening with the Ockeghem motet & other 15th century pieces makes this very clear very soon. And then e.g. the Lhéritier does eventually sound "right," articulated structurally by thirds....) But the formal impact isn't generally there for me anymore (... almost as if it's been abandoned along with its context).

And since I'm here, I should go right ahead & note the new The Josquin Songbook as well: That production is very specifically oriented on the mid-16th century, namely vihuela transcriptions in Spain. But as opposed to e.g. Heringman's Inviolata (from early in the anniversary, reviewed here already in December...), there're also — per 16th century Spanish priorities — vocal lines retained, basically transcribing several pieces into monodies (as well as some vocal duos...). So The Josquin Songbook is clear in its (historical) approach, but similar comments do apply from my perspective.... (And a feature for some readers will surely be María Cristina Kiehr, once quite popular in this general repertory, but now seemingly less active....) This release likewise has enjoyable qualities, despite an orientation that I don't really share (although it doesn't betray a universalizing attitude either).

And a new album of anonymous masses by Cut Circle & Jesse Rodin presents some fascinating (but previously unknown) repertory, while taking steps forward in performance practice. To the latter point, these are outstanding renditions of these difficult — the album's theme — mass cycles: Not only did they involve extensive reconstruction from sources & correction of errors, but puzzling through the performance instructions themselves, as well as the physical complexities of rhythm & extended breath.... Cut Circle also remarks on their one-to-a-part style, closely mic'd for a strong vocal presence (& articulation), obviously paralleling presentation styles developed by The Sound and the Fury & Beauty Farm in this repertory, and geared toward hearing the music intimately within the circle of musicians themselves (rather than via the haze of cathedral reflections...), but Cut Circle is especially clear & precise too. (It can also be very clear that a woman is participating, pace historical norms... & contra some other recent groups where gender isn't as clear to the ear. I should note further that, while already involving some impressive interpretive solutions, the first albums from Cut Circle did still involve part doubling....) Or maybe that clarity has something to do with the "high res" recording available (although I should note, specifically, that I'm not contrasting it with other versions...). Besides being complicated, I'm less sure that the music is especially appealing, but it's still an intriguing era. In particular, although he isn't noted as a possible attribution, these masses seem to parallel some of the "constructivist" ideas of Busnoys — & I should note also that there isn't really a "great" Busnois album to this point, the Cantica Symphonia release being another based on similar technical puzzles along with hypothetical attribution... and thus, very much in parallel with this project from Rodin et al., although with a distinctly different performance style around grandeur & instrumental support.... So, in some sense, Messes anonymes addresses the confusing Busnoys legacy, but also recalls earlier 15th century complexities in Italy, especially around the Papal Chapel (e.g. pace Zacara), suggesting almost a mid-15th century version of "academic music" — & as the suggestion implies, also lacks some affective coherence at times around its technical exposition. So, what of this subject of difficulty? I'm not aware of more from the Berkeley conference referenced in the notes, and am probably being redundant (but not sure of it...), but I'm definitely inclined to note two different sorts of difficulty, namely that around the puzzles (which, once resolved, presumably bring a feeling of satisfied completion) & that around the physical challenges of singing (which are never really "resolved," but rather accommodated — with one's ability to do so, perhaps, even declining with age, not increasing with experience...). And then it's worth noting that Ockeghem (among others) took this orientation on puzzles, presumably only entertaining to the singers themselves, and turned it toward more direct expressivity.... (Should I even raise the specter of Protestantism as already driving a sort of "musical clarity" by the 1470s?) Pace the "irrational" quality of Ockeghem's music, though, these anonymous cycles were only reconstructed based on the (presumptive) rigor of their treatments: In that sense, they almost seem to prefigure Obrecht, yet the latter (famously) comes off completely differently in sound than (as seemingly formulaic...) on the page. (One doesn't find e.g. Dufay — or Regis — the melodist appearing here either, but rather a "technical" sort of intensification applied to preexisting material.) Anyway, I can't escape the impression that these cycles were intended to be (technically) impressive for other musicians, and they definitely add to the picture of this period. But what we really need is a few dozen "other" masses recorded with this kind of mastery too! (Via this & other recent releases it's also becoming harder for future singing groups to claim that the music is just too difficult to render directly....) But what I'm also hearing here, more specifically, is a context for the judicious use of technical elements by the ensuing "traditional masters."

The next Josquin issue (also just recorded in June, pace Stewart below) is then the provocatively titled Josquin The Undead, from Björn Schmelzer & Graindelavoix — and this has been the most striking anniversary release (yet) for me. The opening homage from Gombert is performed strongly, not really unusually, but next comes a strangely spooky version of Baisiez moy, and by the time we're to a rollicking take on Petite Camusette (the sixth track), it's more than clear that this won't be a routine reading of Josquin's late songs. The program is actually quite ordinary, though: It's taken from the Susato collection, just like that from Ensemble Clément Janequin (as reviewed here already in January), but instead of leaving the edition alone — i.e. sounding like mid-16th century Parisian chansons — as ECJ (who does refine their own vocal technique, but as noted, kept to the same basic presentation...) did, Schmelzer & company apparently undertake some sort of "un-editing" of the Susato source, producing a program that's more evocative of 15th century style. And apparently it also turns out that this was what I'd been wanting! Regular readers will know that I'd been calling for a new reading of Josquin's chansons for a while, which I'd tempered with the appearance of the Musica Nova program. The latter is also taken (mostly) from the Susato publication, and even includes later organ works (by others), etc. That always struck me as a strange orientation for Musica Nova, as they've mostly recorded earlier music.... In any case, I do still enjoy that program, including e.g. for the great items that Graindelavoix didn't include (e.g. Incessament livre, which would've seemed to fit their project perfectly...), but Josquin The Undead has really captivated me. With the strangeness, I wasn't sure on first hearing, but by the second, it starts to seem almost as if the songs envelop me... there's a sort of sensuality & fullness of sound (despite generally one voice to a part, perhaps with modest instrumental support), a sense that one is being pulled inside another world. (There's a strongly un-mechanical quality, for instance, compared to some less flexible renditions, perhaps even evoking the later madrigal... but not quite.) The entire program is incredibly evocative, and some of these "strange" interpretations have already "ruined" the others for me, such that the album was soon added to my personal list. Whatever happened in terms of making these performance decisions, though, is basically opaque on a technical level: There's no discussion of how they approached the scores, but there's a sort of "psychological" take on Josquin & his late output — & of course the posthumous publication does suggest its own "zombie" quality as well — suggesting a (Freudian) death drive via emphasis on repetition. (Does Schmelzer want to go on to suggest that minimalist music is about the death drive? Maybe it is.... I mean, it marked the end of another historical era, right?) I'm not actually convinced that either Josquin's musical repetition or thematics were particularly notable for his era, but it's an interesting orientation, and there's certainly a sense of the uncanny being projected here (albeit more via reworkings of familiar songs...). Schmelzer basically disclaims historical performance, though, meaning that he's not trying to situate specifically, but there's then a sort of "timeless" late medieval quality emerging as a result, meaning that the (frequently lamenting...) mood isn't so different in (performance) style from his Binchois album (recorded in 2006), even as technique & command do improve. Again there's a sort of familiar-unfamiliar feeling, to some degree taking these songs out of time, yet... somehow capturing them more powerfully (in another register?). There's also a sort of refiguring of the whole "memorial" mood going on here... or a transfiguring, i.e. to a different register (of aching...). And as noted, this release really does show me something new about Josquin's music — even bringing a newly satisfying intimacy. So this might be Schmelzer's most powerful album yet.

Josquin Anniversary releases look to be appearing again for the fall season, including an anticipated album from Rebecca Stewart & company, In memoria mea. In fact, I'd noted this pending release in my discussion of Tetsuro Hanai & Ensemble Cappella here in June. And in most ways my response to In memoria mea (featuring the Missa Mater patris along with three Requiem-based memorial motets) is basically the same: I appreciate the singing technique, some of the slower passages (& textures) being quite appealing, but there's not much rhythmic drive in faster passages or (especially) climaxes. (I was also reminded that Stewart derives part of her ideas on vocal production technique from Indian classical dhrupad, and so, that makes me think of the building to quite intricate rhythms in that style, and indeed the way that Josquin's own music tends to build in rhythmic complexity through a movement or cycle.... But Stewart doesn't really do climaxes, it seems. She mostly keeps it mellow, although dynamics do surge e.g. for the end of the mass....) I also appreciate the reconstruction of the possibly-Willaert motet, suggesting (once again) that there's more intriguing material from the period to hear.... But then what of vocal technique in Josquin? I'll reiterate my prior remarks that this seems like an era in transition (in this way as well...), and I'm very supportive of Stewart's ideas on overtones & timbre, but I guess where I really depart is on "drawing a line" stylistically, in terms of virtuosity, etc. Much of this music obviously involved virtuoso singers, at least for these prominent pieces — which were, of course, always exceptional (by definition). And why would e.g. a laud-motet have little rhythmic contour? It just doesn't make sense. Anyway, Stewart — & this program was recorded just a few months ago, while featuring especially good sound — continues to discover & highlight aspects of the music, even as (per my previous comment) some is "left on the page." What I've also come to appreciate, pace e.g. my recent re-confrontation with Cage, is the "silence" that she finds within polyphony. I think that's an intriguing notion, and goes to a sort of comfort level as well..., again suggesting that (per dhrupad) perhaps these cycles (might) begin with much less rhythmic aggression (even as they develop it themselves along the way)? Anyway, I enjoyed the Requiem-based pieces (per Stewart's chant-inspired approach...) more than the mass cycle (overall), which can seem rather distended & incoherent (as constructed seemingly from a series of passages, particularly in the longer texts...).

And it seems that there will be another burst of Josquin releases later in the year (& perhaps more being made during the year?), the latest being that from Paolo Da Col & Odhecaton: Da Col hasn't recorded often, but his general confrontation with this material goes back at least to the 1990s, i.e. first(?) with the Gombert Coronation Mass program, including a Josquin motet, but also commencing the usual mood of solemnity & grandeur that animates Odhecaton interpretations. (And Da Col had already moved from more obscure labels onto Outhere by reissuing his big Compère production, likewise in the mode of spectacle....) There's also the addition of other ensembles, both to boost the sound in a few moments, and to play a couple of short instrumental tracks. The "main" piece, though, is the Missa Hercules Dux Ferrariae — seemingly an extroverted, "natural" choice for Odhecaton — taken mostly by the 15-voice male choir, until adding additional groups for a massive & climactic ending. However, the decision to interpolate Tu solus into the mass doesn't work for me (& seems to be a bizarre choice), and with other, more detailed accounts available, the Odhecaton reading ends up seeming on the muddy side. There's still no "go to" reference for the motets, though, and so some of the large-ensemble offerings here immediately become among the best options: Both Praeter rerum seriem & O virgo prudentissima add voices (beyond the base 15), and while the promised potency of the former, opening the album, doesn't quite come to fruition for me, it sets a rumbling stage for those that follow, i.e. mostly motets associated with Ferrara. O virgo prudentissima is gorgeous (using the "big group" to fine effect...), and Inviolata, integra et casta is a potent reading as well — although the program notes say nothing about the (relatively unsophisticated) 12-part adaptation that concludes the program. There's also an obvious comparison to be made with the Cantica Symphonia album, starting with its shared Italian orientation — where Odhecaton does focus much more on music actually by Josquin (while Maletto et al. largely dismissed that topic!) — but also including various performers in common (as well as with the new Zacara set). In that sense, the program makes more sense (& includes better music overall), although it's perhaps less lively per se. (And also per the Zacara comments, some of these Josquin pieces do suggest a "new kind of propaganda" too. Is that what formal innovation means?) In any case, while not as detailed as some productions, Odhecaton's Giosquino album ends up involving a strongly affective overall sweep, with various aspects of large-scale momentum handled with both grace & potency, including via the orchestration of the program as a whole.

Antonio "Zacara" da Teramo was a composer I'd noticed in anthologies — Ars Subtilior anthologies, that is, for some elaborate songs. (I tend to think of his music as part of the broad Ars Subtilior, but I guess some people would prefer to draw stronger stylistic distinctions, in which case, much of his music is actually outside that particular style.) And his songs tended to be particularly elaborate, including a wealth of both contemporary & historical references as well. So in that sense, his music almost seemed like a curiosity, although I definitely enjoyed the previous Zacara secular album by "Currentes" (a Northern group). But I definitely didn't know what to make of earlier dedicated albums either, i.e. those by Micrologus (a group I've particularly appreciated in general...), and before that, the overlapping Sine Nomine ensemble: Those albums felt over-orchestrated to me, as if the performers had added a healthy dose of Baroque sensibility. I guess I just couldn't believe my ears when it came to those albums, burgeoning with ideas & sonic variety. But now with the new complete set from Le Fonte Musica, I'm realizing that those weren't performer indulgences so much as they were direct attempts to render Zacara's spectacular & rhetorical music. And now the 4CD set makes a strong case for him as the greatest composer of his generation.... It's a great production, first of all, including a handful of essays & all the lyrics, reconstructing some of the songs (including via spectral analysis of parchment...), and articulated (musically) with remarkable clarity. Indeed, not unlike my reaction to those earlier Zacara productions (of 20 years ago & more...), I didn't want to believe my ears when it came to the opening Mass movements. And it took me a while to feel as though I was really entering Zacara's musical world, but at that point, the clear diction & studious attention to differing emotional resonance in the various pieces came to seem like a real asset. (One thing about the production, though, is there's no discussion of performance choices in individual works, i.e. why some use instrumental support, what instruments, etc. One goal appears to have been variety, but it's the starkest a capella pieces, one voice to a part, that prove to me that various ideas on space, register & even "orchestration" are embedded in the scores themselves.) The music, then, generally involves an incredible sense of space, as well as sudden stops & changes in direction, the latter heralding the later Renaissance madrigal. At other times, there's a strong sense of declamation — & particularly in the Mass movements, this recalls for me the development of a "declamatory" performance style for Machaut's Gloria & Credo (these long texts presenting different issues than the shorter Mass texts...). So while I went into listening to this project mostly interested in Zacara's secular songs, I also soon began to hear him as — in fact — the most impressive elaborator not only of Machaut's embryonic mass movements style(s), but of the sometimes-bizarre Avignon Mass repertory. That arose from the Papal Court there, and Zacara was intricately involved with Italian politics around the Papacy, so the notion that he was addressing this tradition directly is easy to accept. Indeed, a piece by Zacara is found in e.g. the English Old Hall Manuscript, and the sort of pointillistic styles he (sometimes) constructs suggest parallels with e.g. the mysterious Pycard & other layers of Old Hall, i.e. the last elaborations of the Ars Nova per se. In his Mass movements, Zacara also clearly influences Ciconia — & while I certainly value many of the latter's songs & motets, Zacara is the master here: Ciconia left the smaller output as well, his greatest songs taking on what could be characterized as a more interiorized "Northern" style around flowing lines.... (The "Northern" album of Zacara on Lawo thus projects a more similar style to Ciconia.) Surely Ciconia has been prioritized, then, because of his greater similarity to later music, but also due to the sheer difficulty of Zacara.... (Tangentially, these Mass movements from Zacara have also made me more eager for a complete Matteo da Perugia: I've particularly enjoyed the recent Tetraktys album, becoming one of my favorite secular albums, but that's also a more recent appreciation. And I'd largely ignored his liturgical works, although a couple appeared in the Huelgas anthology, after more in a strangely-Baroque production from Memelsdorff in the 90s....) What Zacara accomplishes in this repertory is then not only integrating a wealth of contrapuntal invention & allusion (into individual, coherent pieces...), but within the sort of "pointillistic" style, a conjuring of space per se: One might even suggest that Zacara's music accommodates a feel for silence (& as I'd been auditioning Cage simultaneously, this feeling was unmistakable... contradictory as it may seem). Its various notions of register, balance, alternation, declamation, etc. also suggest a dazzling rhetorical practice — with the liner notes cryptically suggesting that Zacara was basically constructing a new kind of propaganda around the Papal intrigue. The music seems as though it might fall apart at any moment, yet it doesn't.... (There's a sort of choreography, one might say, that remains in place.) And frankly, while I'm unsure what to make of some of Zacara's material, I feel as though I need to go the extra mile here for the performers, because they've brought a new level of facility to this project. This was obviously a very large project, and Zacara does come off as the greatest composer of his generation — so I'd have to say it's a rousing success! At the least, I have to say that he presents a distinct stylistic pole: When speaking of "an Italian style" against which the Northern developments transitioned European music beyond the Dufay era, Zacara most embodies (or at least most elaborates...) that style. (And it's worth noting the more "inward" focus of later Protestant devotion, the Reformation seemingly being heralded almost in reverse here.... It's hard to suggest much "inwardness" especially to Zacara's sacred music! It's about public spectacle. But although he apparently invented parody, he only quotes himself...!) And I don't actually know what I'd think of Zacara as a person, especially his politics (& e.g. his view of money?), which seems rather confusing (at least at this distance), but he was clearly a musical (& literary) genius. The set was added to my personal list, with the highest rating, although I still need to update that discussion.

Continuing with Josquin anniversary releases — & these do seem to have slowed considerably at this point — I hadn't been ordering from Japan much, and so hadn't heard much of the Ensemble Cappella series: It turns out that ordering by email is quite painless & friendly, though, even as prices are a little higher (& liner notes a lot more Japanese) than most sources these days.... And I'm finding this series to be worth hearing — as promised — & in particular for its vocal technique & textures. And as it happens, the most recent issue shares a program with the first "good" Tallis Scholars album from 2008: The former was actually recorded back in 2013, as apparently they're pacing the releases (although I guess the final, "anniversary" recording was delayed by the pandemic, as they're likewise intending a nine disc cycle...), but is still the latest on offer. As noted, the strength is in the vocal techniques & so textures, yielding a fine clarity & coherence to many passages. As I understand, the approach is derived directly from that of Rebecca Stewart, i.e. specifically her approach to "modal" singing, and so suffers from the same weakness from my point of view, namely that they don't press through rhythmically driving cadences, tending to engage the sort of cliché sighing ritardandi that I'd found so irritating in performances of this music in prior days.... I should back up, though, and restate that the interpretations from Tetsuro Hanai come from a strong place: Much of the music is indeed performed quite coherently, but per Stewart's ideas on vocal production, the singers aren't able to complete some of the lines. (In the past, I've seen it argued that this was historically valid, i.e. that many ensembles would've basically "punted" on some passages, and sung them more simply....) And I want to highlight this not so much as criticism, but to focus on the musical transitions of the era, namely the high degree of virtuosity coming to be involved in "modal singing" (per Stewart's label), likely stretching such technique beyond some of its ritual orientation, very soon leading into "tonal singing" with modern breath support, etc.... This repertory thus seems to fall on yet another cusp of stylistic transition, the limits of prior singing style being reached — & being refigured into something (perhaps paradoxically) less intimate around the Reformation, i.e. basically more in the line of "professional entertainment" (i.e. exactly as had been criticized in ritual terms!). Anyway, I still find the music of this era to be highly appealing, and the sense that it was breaking technical boundaries for voices — & do note that e.g. the new Ockeghem tour-de-force proves that these works can be performed this way, it's just not easy... — highlights another sort of "end of era" feeling for me as well. Moreover, Josquin himself adopted various "simplification" ideas in his later works as well, especially (apparently?) around notions of ritual efficacy, so it seems as though such a tension was felt by him personally.... (And that idea does seem to parallel Stewart's notion that something significant was lost with such a shift toward virtuosity....) In any case, then, the Tallis Scholars rendition is not as coherent in its details as are some of their subsequent Josquin releases, but it's relatively coherent — and in a more modern or generic singing style. I end up preferring it, though, because the climaxes in these pieces are exciting. However, another aspect of the Japanese performance to note is its approach to architectural resonance, which together with the vocal style presents some curious twisting effects... but can also come to obscure some of the lines in a resonant haze. (This aspect of recording continues to be tricky, in terms of engineering, it seems.) In some ways, that also parallels my ambivalent response to this series. (Although do note that, pending more releases around the anniversary, and hence my own "freeze" on new recommendations in this space, their prior L'homme arme album — also recorded in 2013 — is the most satisfying for that program that I've heard to date.... So I don't want to overstate the extent to which Ensemble Cappella is making rhythmic simplifications. Oh, and perhaps I should note that Stewart herself looks to be releasing a Josquin anniversary program with a new ensemble, so that will be exciting to hear, after quite an interval....) So in sum, I don't find these interpretations to be fully satisfying, but they do offer rather compelling readings of various passages that so often end up murky elsewhere, as well as an overall approach that does "make sense" even if it "leaves some music on the page." (And it'd be nice if selecting Josquin albums didn't involve so much "pick your poison" equivocation, but obviously we're just not there yet.... But then, this era also has an explicit tradition of "music as a challenge" for singers, so perhaps this entire process is quite authentic!)

Another ongoing (& seminal) medieval group is then Gothic Voices, and they've likewise undergone various changes, particularly with founder Christopher Page leaving the group. Those changes seem to be inaugurating a new era of fresh explorations for the current vocal quartet, though, as their latest album Echoes of an Old Hall comes to recall the excitement of some of their issues from decades past (i.e. especially as they were pioneering Pythagorean tuning). Regular readers will know that I don't necessarily like these broader programs, and indeed the program extends beyond the Old Hall Manuscript into (later) continental influences, but the production is so immediately striking that I have to take notice. Regarding the history, it's also interesting that this latest album is back to an all-vocal presentation (supplemented by a couple of extra voices when needed), but of course I'd already admired their recent Dufay Spectacle, i.e. another mixed genre presentation, there with a variety of instrumental support. That's also quite an extrovert album, and seems more like a (welcome) consolidation of style, while Echoes of an Old Hall is more about "new" explorations & refinements: There'd already been the Orlando Consort album (2017), and that includes some earlier (versus later) repertory in a larger program, but also illustrates a similar intricate variety. Gothic Voices might bring a little less pure precision, then, but I also start to feel more the "resonance" of the tuning, the basic machinic background of these little jewels. In other words, they continue to take on the feeling of "rightness" & sparkle. Everything thus feels so sophisticated here, and generally well-articulated. (It's definitely worth contrasting the Dufay Ave regina celorum with that on the — also quite welcome — recent Diabolus in Musica album. The Gothic Voices rendition is far more intricate, bringing out all the lines, i.e. lets one hear Dufay's "smooth" style itself as a product of its isorhythmic heritage.... And Binchois is given some similar treatments, although not more compellingly than those of the recent Comet Musicke set, which is likewise grounded in a more medieval approach....) The singers do end up a bit breathless at times, and I'm not sure if that's intentional excitement or remaining challenges to singing this music... probably (authentically) some of both, but they do build to some impressive climaxes at times. And I'm not sure why so many monophonic tracks were included (although it's still a long program, and actually I'm pretty sure they're there to break up the density...). Oh, and the "studio FLAC" for this release was particularly enormous: It does sound great, and is apparently able to accommodate the second half of the program's (dubious, if you ask me) idea to interject some Old Hall material "from off stage...." Anyway, the album was added to my personal list, and I should probably note the previous Nowell synge we... here as well, since it involves some similar tracks (& since I'd ignored it previously as "just another Christmas album"). So having recaptured some of their prior excitement, what's next for Gothic Voices?

I only just noticed that Alla Francesca has apparently moved to the Paraty label, the move coming together with Harmonia Mundi distribution disappearing, and so the label not appearing in North America.... (I've also heard that Harmonia Mundi could be available again soon....) I guess I'll suppress my too-frequent whinging around this general state of affairs, as I did eventually notice.... Also, it appears that Alla Francesca is increasingly Brigitte Lesne's group, as Pierre Hamon didn't appear on their landmark Thibaut de Champagne album, nor did he on last year's Variations amoureuses — but he does appear, in a supplementary role, on the latest, Le Chansonnier de Bayeux. That album is portrayed mainly as a duo between Lesne & Pierre Boragno on winds, and so not really as an Alla Francesca album. But it does also involve "transposing" their approach to the trouvère repertory, namely the involvement of polyphonic & improvisatory elaborations, as well as chasing melodies across genres. Such an approach is welcome in this c.1500 material, which is likewise all monophonic in the manuscript — whether as tunes extracted from contemporary art song settings or as prompting them, apparently in a rich interaction back & forth — & could perhaps be analogized to a book of "jazz" standards. Lesne & Boragno thus provide another, welcome perspective on this later repertory (albeit mostly with recorders, in terms of the sonorities). I also want to note Variations amoureuses more specifically, though, as I failed to notice it last year: Like the Thibaut album, there's a degree of theatricality to the presentation, and an urge to variety overall. There's a high degree of mastery as well, and that stands out, but if I'm to criticize, it's that these renditions become almost "too lively" for repeated auditions.... Nonetheless, Variations amoureuses is another landmark album interrogating cross-genre variations, and was added to my personal list. (Indeed, one might note that e.g. their Gautier de Coincy had already exemplified such sacred-secular hybridity back in 1995, so this is very much a long term development for Alla Francesca.) In this, it continues to reflect a generally increasing facility with music of this broad era....

Johannes Martini (c.1430-1497) hadn't made much impression on me, and so I guess it comes as something of a surprise to be reminded that he left so much music, including e.g. eight mass cycles in one manuscript (originating in Ferrara). And that reminder comes in the form of a dedicated, cross-genre program from the generally excellent — although I still don't appreciate the frequent instrumental doubling, "period" (Italian) or no... — Le Miroir de Musique ensemble. There they position Martini as an early instrumental composer, and illustrate some stylistic changes through the second half of the fifteenth century.... But I guess Martini still doesn't make that much impression on me: Actually I tend to notice the vocal pieces more, just in terms of the fine singing & bigger sound, but close attention doesn't suggest that they're among the era's best. (E.g. Tinctoris, for whom Le Miroir de Musique also produced a program, doesn't include Martini in his discussion of prominent composers. Indeed, besides dying the same year as Ockeghem, Martini seems to have been a close contemporary of both Tinctoris & Busnoys — & somewhat older than Caron, Compère, Agricola....) And relatively speaking, the instrumental pieces fly by without making an individual impression; the program likes to change the instrument families on different tracks to add color. Martini does show an early penchant for reworking other material (i.e. anticipating the parody mass), but his reworkings end up seeming more cobbled together than they do profound.... Anyway, I appreciate the opportunity to hear this program, and so to gain a more personal impression of "another" composer from the glory days of the late 15th century.... This increasingly distinguished group of musicians does appear to have illustrated his broad output rather well. (And so when will they be tackling a fifteenth century program less on the fringes?)

When a recent correspondent let me know about the new Diabolus in Musica Reine du Ciel album, centered on Dufay's Missa Ave Regina Celorum, I was excited: After all, recent momentum — especially after the amazing new Ockeghem album just reviewed — had me anticipating a great reading. Moreover, Diabolus in Musica has recorded Dufay albums already (including the Missa Se la face ay pale), plus their recent Requiem disc (with its Ockeghem cycle from around the same time period) was quite coherent.... Yet despite adding Reine du Ciel promptly to my personal list, I guess I was still disappointed: In some sense, this entry is then a reflection on that situation, basically that a new album could immediately include the most appealing rendition of a significant work & still be disappointing.... But I guess that's always a possibility in the world of historical recreation! And that this interpretation involves significant improvements to both prior concepts & technique seems obvious enough, but after a strong reading of the opening plainchant, the central polytextual motet immediately comes off relatively timidly & even as a little awkward (versus e.g. its sometimes dance-like passagework).... Some of this might have to do with the part doubling & so coordination, defended almost defiantly by Guerber in the brief discussion, but mostly I think the ensemble just didn't spend as much time rehearsing and/or performing the piece in public before recording. If the situation is really as simple as that, I suppose it's not nearly among the top covid tragedies, but still unfortunate.... Oh well. But then, per the contradictory tenor of this entry, it's nonetheless the best recorded performance we have available, so I should still celebrate, right!?

And it's not as long as many releases in this field, but the new Ockeghem album by the new vocal quartet "L'ultima parola" made an instant impression: This is just a great recording of great music & was promptly added to my personal list. (There's been a delay in writing this discussion only because I was waiting for the physical CD to arrive from Germany, so that I could read the booklet... which doesn't really discuss the performance much anyway. Actually, the essay on Ockeghem sounds similar to things I was writing in the 1990s, so that's a little eerie....) Obviously I hope this group continues to record more music from the 15th century (as appears to be their focus), and I mostly have raves. If I'm to be critical, as noted in the linked discussion, having a woman sing the top line isn't historical, but everything works so well here, it doesn't seem like an issue. What else? I think my biggest gripe is actually the way the booklet falls right out of the digipak... this is something we can't get right in 2021? (Packaging generally remains a disaster in all areas of life, but I digress....) There's also an issue of interpretive slowness, which suggests clichés of respect, but these four singers hold their tone so well, there aren't musical issues with it.... Their clarity is great in general. And the polish is amazing for a first album! This is a great example of 15th century vocal virtuosity in general, not to mention such great music from a more technical perspective — and sung basically without compromises.

As far as Josquin anniversary releases, these are already in a lull it seems, but I certainly do expect (or hope for...) more at some point....

As noted, I'm intending to review Josquin anniversary albums this year — & that's (inevitably) going to include some that aren't really to my taste. Actually, I'd convinced myself that the new Golden Renaissance from Stile Antico could be appealing, particularly after spending time with the Brabant Ensemble album & deciding that it had a lot to offer, despite working within a set of performance choices that wouldn't really have been my own.... (Some of the singers are even in common between the two groups.) And I don't want to dwell on negativity, but I didn't enjoy this new release from "major" label Decca very much, apparently the first in a trilogy to be devoted to "Renaissance music" by the ensemble (& presumably the earliest such repertory). That said, the choice of Missa Pange lingua is straightforward & reasonable in the sense that it's a relatively pliant setting, and so amenable to the kind of showmanship on offer here.... (Or maybe not amenable at all, given the cycle's contemplative austerity, but the counterpoint itself does offer more space than some for further flights of fancy....) So while I'd hoped for a more extroverted companion to the "nerdy" (in a positive sense) Brabant program, and was willing to accept some performance choices motivated mostly by later music, this is more in the way of the choral clichés I've lamented here for so long... the "pointless sighing" & ritardandi, moving from climax to climax with so much music seeming uninteresting in between.... In other words, there's a strongly rhetorical quality & — at least for me — it tends to scream out a typical pro-modernist (& again for me, automatically pro-imperialist, i.e. figured as triumph) message that surely dominates the thinking of the parasitic executives at the "major" media outlets.... There're still some great moments here, the famous Ave Maria ringing out, with more of Josquin's greatest motets to follow (plus some later, homage-type pieces), as well as a couple of truly bizarre secular choices (the one ubiquitous & surely inauthentic, the other obscure & stunningly unidiomatic here in its first recording...). Anyway, I've done my duty to review this. I'd truly come into it with positive feelings, hoping for a nice extrovert album (with a strong reading of the Missa Pange lingua, which does happen in spurts...), but this ends up being more in the range of ear candy. And then correspondingly (or paradoxically) ponderous when no striking effects are in play.

I guess I also need to note the recent double program of Binchois & Ockeghem songs on the new-to-me Son an ero label, by the new-to-me Comet Musicke ensemble. Before even getting to a musical discussion, I should also note that I only see this label coming over streaming services & with limited info.... (I "downloaded" rather than streamed a copy, and it did come with liner notes. However, they don't include e.g. catalog info.) So I'm not sure how to react to that, but it does feel as though this program warrants comment, even as I'm also doing so belatedly (for what was, apparently, a 2020 release).... In any case, this is a relatively raucous interpretation, but originating somewhat paradoxically from Francisco Mañalich's study of manuscript incipits for the lower parts in Binchois' songs, suggesting both instrumentation & phrasing. There's indeed some good technical inspiration shining through here, although also seemingly exaggerated at times — & mixed with other ideas on vocal diction, genre... including some poetic recitations (& too much part doubling). The program also continues into what are sometimes some relatively awkward interpretations of Ockeghem.... (The author of the notes seems almost unaware of prior interpretations, so it's kind of strange....) There's actually much to appreciate here, on a case by case basis, even as the album tends to grate on me at times. (Its relative coarseness may well be authentic, particularly the — unstated, mind you — notion that these different songs really belong to different contexts, derive different sounds... and wouldn't really have been thought of as part of one program.) There are definitely some good ideas on phrasing etc. here that can contribute to a better overall picture of this repertory.

[ Addendum: Actually, the more I listen to this, the more that much of the first "Binchois" playlist reminds me of the Graindelavoix album. Such an observation makes claims of a new approach more perplexing (albeit not for the "Ockeghem" playlist), but also underscores that the sound grows on me.... I still don't know what to make of the release mechanism, whatever that actually is, but this is a worthwhile Binchois album, now added to my personal list. - 02/28/21 ]

So Josquin: Motets & Mass Movements from Stephen Rice & the Brabant Ensemble has been the most "musically provocative" Anniversary release thus far, even as the interpretations involve both positive & negative factors from my perspective. Basically, this style of choir & singing was a post-Restoration English invention, since applied to "Renaissance" music in general by 20th century revival efforts: It's a big sound with a sort of "naïve" tone in the top line (i.e. women sounding a bit like children, the latter per 17th century style). There's also the basic "Renaissance" approach here, as updated for the 21st century, featuring various 16th (or even 17th) century parts added to Josquin's motets (in the "si placet" tradition, as cited), and an orientation toward a mid-16th century context that's been the heart of the repertory for the Brabant Ensemble, including its tuning. (In that sense, it's a curious program in that it includes earlier pieces as well, some of which clearly involved a more 15th century tuning context. Yet, this factor has been neglected in all releases thus far, so there's no real reason to hold this ensemble particularly accountable for it....) On the other hand, there's great attention to detail here, even as that detail is (once again) refracted through later perspectives, and so "a lot of music" — much of which hasn't been recorded recently. (I appreciate just getting the notes & rhythms together, and laying that out clearly in performance, at least.... Not that those basic issues are entirely separable from tuning, etc.) Attention to detail is reflected in the program discussion from Rice as well, particularly as he both considers arguments around authenticity for the works presented (including that of their added parts) & debates the process more generally. The choice of program was apparently motivated by variety (although he doesn't say), not the security of the sources then, with earlier works included as well (counter to style).... There's also not a lot of intimacy from this group, such that e.g. the tour-de-force Alma redemptoris mater / Ave regina caelorum comes off as relatively distant. Their Stabat Mater is then (aside from "bigness") so opposite to that recently reviewed from Cantica Symphonia... including the latest (added) voice part on the program here. (The Binchois reference is immediately buried to open, although more audible later as transformed....) I also have difficulty imagining Usquequo, Domine being by anyone but Josquin, while Huc me sydereo is a particularly impressive rendition here, including the wild sixth voice that might or might not be from Josquin himself.... (Mittit ad virginem could very easily be by Thérache to my ear, opening the program in another register....) There's thus a mix of famous & obscure pieces here, but also some powerful music. (Regarding the trade-offs with this performance style, I really enjoyed e.g. this group's La Rue... because the Missa Inviolata is a great piece that hadn't been recorded. But I didn't think much of their Obrecht disc, even though it also involved new music & similar attention to detail.... I.e. the repertory didn't call out to me individually there.) The ensemble can also sound a little tentative at times — relatively speaking anyway — but one might also attribute that to a generally balanced approach toward forward momentum.... Anyway, as Rice notes, despite some concerns, these pieces are all presented as authentic in the New Josquin Edition, underlying just how unlikely we are really to know exactly what is or isn't a part of his catalog. Even as the performance style isn't entirely what I'd like, not to mention the later orientation for sources, there's still a lot of important music here receiving its most coherent (revived, that is) rendition to date — making for a must-hear in this context.

I should probably also mention La la hö hö, a well-rendered program of c.1500 consort music from a newly discovered and/or noticed manuscript compiled for Jacob Fugger around 1533: Although the included discussion doesn't mention them specifically, the program appears to include e.g. previously unknown instrumental works by La Rue. Unfortunately, I was also unable to audition this album in full, as my digital download is corrupted, and I never got a reply from the label's customer service on this issue.... (Hopefully it's not a problem that'll recur for others...?) In any case, the relatively weighty program by the new-to-me Linarol Consort must be noted for its unique items.

Although I'm intending to keep up a general dialog around the Josquin anniversary & its releases, I don't want to start making perfunctory comments about everything that appears.... However, despite that it's actually outside the repertory I usually feature here, I feel as though I must mention the new Palestrina album by Beauty Farm — at least after I'd just mentioned here in December how their new Gombert double album further positioned the latter's music as a step toward Palestrina: This live release, not originating from their usual Mauerbach monastery sessions, thus seems like an obvious continuation of that work. It's a rather stark rendition of the arch-famous Missa Papae Marcelli, surrounded by plainchant. And the review download didn't come with liner notes, while the release has yet to appear at all on the Fra Bernardo site, so if there's something else particular to note about this rendition, I'm in the dark.... (I'm still not intending to feature Palestrina here, generally speaking. But there's already more Josquin on the immediate horizon....)

And as Josquin anniversary releases accelerate (& hopefully we're still near the start of that process...), of course they're going to include interpretations by various (perhaps more famous) ensembles known more for later music, although in some cases e.g. a sixteenth century orientation will overlap with Josquin's later output. (And I should emphasize the degree to which Josquin's music straddles eras in a technical sense, not only in terms of music publishing & modernity broadly in that sense, but also according to ongoing transitions in tuning: It's important to note that Pythagorean tuning & mean-tone are almost opposites, meaning that there's considerable sonic tension between the two. Although most interpretations of Josquin, if considering period tunings at all, tend to dive straight into the amply documented sixteenth century style around various instrumental transcriptions & so also mean-tone temperaments, recall that various Josquin pieces do still cadence on open fifths....) And it already seems to be a trend to sidestep issues of authorship entirely, continuing to record some of the catchier "hits" that have subsequently been questioned: Indeed all of these factors are wrapped into one package for Ensemble Clément Janequin's new Septiesme livre de chansons, based on Susato's 1545 publication. That's a retrospective collection devoted to Josquin a generation after his death, and tends to position the music in terms of the early madrigal, or especially the Parisian chanson. (It also sits contemporaneously to & is inclusive of various instrumental transcriptions for e.g. lute or keyboard... i.e. with their tuning implications.) So to back up for a moment, it's probably accurate to suggest that I first started calling for new attention to recording Josquin's secular music once the prior Visse interpretation started seeming dated: This new album isn't dated in terms of the development of their own performance style, but it certainly does keep to a 1540s orientation — if not actually subsequent to that, given the heavily doubled (suggesting continuo?) bass parts, etc. (A specific orientation on the Susato book, having the benefit of more modern notation etc., is also reflected by e.g. Se congie prens — already almost a nine year-old recording, and likewise featuring quite a lot of organ, although from a group with a more medieval orientation in general....) I guess what I'd really wanted, as I try to articulate that for myself now, is a program featuring Josquin's songs in the more classic style of Ockeghem & La Rue. Although Marc Lewon's program remains the most idiomatic & compelling for me overall (despite mixing in voices in kind of a jarring way that took a while to enjoy in a more relaxed setting...), that's also more of a nitty-gritty "instrumental variation" sort of perspective, such that the pure "courtly chanson" take still seems open to me.... (Maybe the main issue around such a project has really been that Josquin, absent the greater variety that ultimately seems to define his output, would suffer in comparison to e.g. Ockeghem & La Rue....) ECJ also does without the viols of their first program (generally in favor of organ), using a larger variety of voices, particularly doubled in the lowest registers (& producing a stiff or heavy sound). And e.g. the spinet sounds jarring to me here, although actually it's pleasant enough. Anyway, the point seems to be a lot of pretty singing, sighing lines, big/clear harmonies, a kind of nostalgic drama.... In other words, it's an enjoyable update with some stylistic differences from their first album (released more than 30 years ago now!), but doesn't break new ground in period technique or articulation. I.e. I don't feel as though I've learned anything about Josquin or his music from this release, but some of the tunes & figures surely do resonate: What's perhaps most notable is how well his music continues to respond to these different settings & orientations (including already in the sixteenth century...).

Beauty Farm embarked on their recording career with two double albums devoted to Gombert (motets), and now return for a new double album of Gombert Masses. This was after The Sound and the Fury had begun their discography with two Gombert albums as well, so someone around Mauerbach must be a serious Gombert fan. In fact, the liner notes for this issue — not to mention the interpretations themselves — go some way toward positioning Gombert's music as a sort of inflection point in the (musical) history from the earlier Franco-Flemish polyphony heading into the so-called Palestrina style: The continuous "flows" Gombert achieves — in terms of seemingly endless overlapping lines — turn into the sparser lines of the Palestrina generation once "preparation of dissonance" (not specifically mentioned in the notes) is injected into the conception... the inflection thus taking us from the "most dissonant" Franco-Flemish polyphony "straight" to the "least" (or rather, the canonical style). One might characterize this step into the Counter-Reformation as the final blurrings of analogism (cf. Descola) — & I suggest listening to Gombert's extensions as a sort of blur (i.e. into the later "uniform style").... And Gombert's masses do show us this inflection most clearly, particularly in this superb new reading, as they take the "flowing" style to greater lengths (although the more enigmatic "Coronation Mass" is in a more hybrid/older style...). That's how it ends up feeling, though, greater lengths: There are also two motets included in this set, and they're brilliant pieces, but e.g. the Missa Media vita seems much like a thrashing out of the stunning motet Media vita... a ponderous, ongoing dilution, if I may. Not that these masses are unappealing, but they're basically elaborations of the jewels of the motets, without many new ideas. This release also suggests a new start for Beauty Farm, i.e. by returning to Gombert? On that count, I'd say this is their best rendition yet, with new editions prepared for them, and continuing attention to the recorded sound: I've tried not to get too involved with sound issues, but they can be a factor in this music, particularly in terms of balancing the directness of the voices with the haze of architectural resonance. And Beauty Farm's recordings have tweaked things along this continuum, perhaps moving to "too immediate" at times (although I still prefer that to the most distant, hazy renditions elsewhere...), but here they strike an excellent audio balance. Everything comes off that much more confidently too, clearly articulated & well-paced. The result might even be described as sensual. And so I very much hope that they bring these resources to a Josquin anniversary project....

Before I turn to another Josquin release, I want to note the recent Song of Beasts by Ensemble Dragma. This is "another" enjoyable anthology spanning the c.1400 era of secular songs, i.e. around the Ars Subtilior, but including both some earlier & (maybe) later music. In that sense, I rarely know how to react to these releases, in the sense that the program includes a mix of various greatest hits & some lesser known material — in this case, oriented toward more virtuosic items in parallel with its invocation (or imitation) of various animals. The virtuosity is fitting here, as I'd already featured Marc Lewon on lute in various (mostly somewhat later) repertory, and he's one of the best today. Vocalist Agnieszka Budzinska-Bennett has also appeared on various programs (e.g. relatively recently on Con voce quasi humana), and is one of a new generation of vocalists who likewise continue to develop an idiomatic medieval style. (The other member of the trio, Jane Achtman, also appears on many albums to good effect, although is usually less specifically noticeable.) Thus, this is a new generation of virtuosic & idiomatic medieval performance: That performance practice continues to improve is one of the basic facts of the medieval discography, and particularly in this Ars Subtilior-esque repertory (& Ars Nova in general), such performance practice is becoming quite refined (particularly versus a couple of decades ago, when it was still embryonic).... Then as far as evaluating these albums, I'm kind of left with the program, and what I want to hear for a program: This is a part where I struggle here sometimes, including to learn about new items (& I've surely groused about this too much already...) — especially anthologies, because if an album appears with a composer, it can be much easier to pick out of a long & largely undifferentiated list — but also to choose "better" programs among what is really a juggling of dozens of similar songs. And I'm not sure how useful my remarks in that area are getting to be — i.e. when there isn't a larger piece dominating a program — as I've habituated over the years to evaluating albums as a whole. (This is of course how the industry has been oriented in general....) I still tend to listen to an album-length program when I'm in the mood, rather than individual songs, but constructing a program from the latter becomes increasingly practical in the world of digital downloads. So should I be reviewing individual tracks? I guess I feel as though I've spent so much time NOT doing that, that it'd be awkward to start. (Maybe it's too late?) But I do want to think about how to make these reviews more worthwhile. Anyway, all that said, Song of Beasts is fairly "typical" in that it presents an advance in technique, and does so with an increasingly idiomatic feel, but around well-known music, where a new interpretation is of only incremental value & within an arbitrary thematic program.... (And to be clear, I'm offering no real criticism of that basic practical dynamic, but rather questioning how I should respond...).

Of course, I feel differently about music that's never had a very good rendition on record — but as noted, I still feel a need to praise "progress" in that area, as obviously it's taking various incremental steps (of familiarization, etc.) — & that still applies to much of c.1500 music & even to the output of a towering figure like Josquin.... Continuing that anniversary project then, I want to note Inviolata, a program of lute transcriptions of motets performed by Jacob Heringman. The recordings are undated, and presumably Heringman spent a period of time recording this project, some of which consists of intabulations from the sixteenth century, but some is also Heringman's own work of transcription, including e.g. famous motets also appearing on the recent Cantica Symphonia disc. Transcriptions & performance are very well done, very precise, and moving beyond some of the constraints of Josquin's own instrumental music.... Clarity of conception & articulation are outstanding. But I've also never been that into the sixteenth century lute repertory.... Still, Inviolata includes a valuable perspective on some of Josquin's most famous motets, once again illustrating the decisive move into modern tunings & style, feeling like something of a linearization of the material (i.e. blunting some of the vertical pull), thus suggesting extension & in turn sequences of "points of imitation" (per my recent discussion of Ockeghem chansons here...), as the style developed into the modern era. We'll see what else appears....

Following already on the heels of the final Tallis Scholars installment is an Italian-themed program from Cantica Symphonia. Josquin's connection to Milan has been alternately one of the clearest parts of his biography & mostly fictitious (& at least in these entries, I'm intending to focus on the recorded music per se), but also obviously continues to inspire as a program.... There's his connection to Ferrara too, of course (per the Herclues Mass of the previous entry). It all gives Giuseppe Maletto & colleagues an opportunity to justify a big ensemble with instrumental support — in a mode similar to their lavish Dufay interpretations — for the opening Stabat mater: I haven't generally appreciated such big productions, but it's worked in their Dufay, and it works here. It's a great piece, and every detail is strongly articulated across a broadly colorful tapestry.... Most of the program is actually performed by smaller forces, though, especially the lengthy Vultum tuum... cycle (performed one to a part), which continues to be popular with singers. Presumably that's because it's easy to sing, with short easy phrases & some embryonic word painting (suggestive of e.g. Brumel), but it's not a cycle that's ever really sustained my attention (probably for similar reasons), and it's the main item on the program here.... The iconic Ave Maria, probably the most popular composition of its era, is given a quality reading with two voices to a part. While the rendition of the famous 5-part Salve Regina (another ostinato-based piece, and another summit) employs a couple of horns together as sustaining tenor amid an otherwise single voice texture... that's a less successful choice. The punchy, concluding Nimphes napées likewise involves a big, mixed ensemble, and could benefit from more (conceptual) attention to intonation.... Ecce tu pulchra (a4) & Benedicta es (a6) are probably the highlights though — after the exciting reading of the well-known Stabat Mater (which, note, does unusually evoke music of two generations prior in its Binchois citation...) — in terms of advancing the Josquin discography... the six-part motet in particular sometimes ends up a bit unbalanced whether vertically or horizontally, but it's still a worthwhile effort on a great but sometimes unwieldy piece... especially when I have no real idea what will be coming over the next year. Finally, the handful of short instrumental tracks are enjoyable, played with elegance & flair, but don't really render anything new. This program doesn't thrill me as a whole, but some of its tracks do immediately become some of the best Josquin motet interpretations on record. (For now? I guess I'm never satisfied....) And at times it's an exuberant & extroverted program, while at others it seems more intimate: It certainly does exhibit some of Josquin's characteristic chameleon quality across its various presentation styles, though.

I guess there are plenty of distractions in the world at the moment, but it was only recently that I "noticed" that next year is a major Josquin anniversary! I saw one release announced, then another, thinking it was a coincidence, then a couple more &... wait a minute. Anyway, this seems like an event that I need to cover in this space, especially since I've generally been frustrated with the Josquin discography to this point. Maybe next year it'll be transformed for the better.... I'm consequently going to freeze that section of my "personal list" for a while, with the further hope that there'll be a surplus of fine items from which to choose, and why choose too soon? I'll review items here as they arrive, though, with an eventual update on "favorites" at some point.... The 500th anniversary of his death also provides an impetus to take stock of the Josquin biography, and that remains vague: Much like Shakespeare, maybe people will never learn a satisfying amount about the man's life, and indeed the various musical masterpieces in a variety of styles suggest a chameleon-like personality (or even a pseudonym for multiple authors, although I'm not making that suggestion seriously). And for the most part, Josquin didn't write a series of great works in a particular idiom, but rather a large set of "isolated" great works (many with lesser companions) across a range of styles. That's perhaps most true of the motets, where Josquin practically defined a new stylistic range based on text & context, such that his masterpieces sound unique, but of the masses as well, with the several mature masterpieces being rather different from each other. But what continues to amaze is that Josquin interpretations have been lagging those of his contemporaries for compelling quality for some time now: There are no notable programs of motets, for instance, with updated technical interpretations (except, perhaps, those just now appearing), although there are (finally!) a couple of very different (& rather idiosyncratic) secular discs (coalescing around organ & lute respectively), and really only one compelling series of mass cycles....

And The Tallis Scholars have now released the last album in that cycle, the ninth, bringing the total to eighteen masses. Leaving aside (problematic) notions of a canonical list, the series is also basically in two parts, with the two albums from the 1980s (which I'd expected they'd re-record, but apparently they won't...) being of no real value. The other seven, though, include a variety of top flight material — usually with one masterpiece paired with a more forgettable cycle. This latest issue is no exception to that, as The Tallis Scholars turn out a sparkling & energetic rendition of Josquin's ostinato showpiece cycle, Missa Hercules Dux Ferrariae: This is an extrovert tour-de-force & seems almost made for the group. (Of course, this latest issue continues maddening choices like refraining from documenting the recording dates & dividing each mass into an unwieldy number of tracks.... The former is truly nonsense for a group that obviously wants to be taken quite seriously. I can only conclude that the last few items in this series were recorded years ago, and held for release over a period of time... but I have no real info.) Anyway, I wouldn't characterize the Herclues Mass as being among Josquin's most profound, but it's masterful contrapuntally & a major entry in the "ostinato mass" category, one that e.g. La Rue would take up more regularly. And Josquin also wrote Missa Faysant regretz on a very short & insistent ostinato, making for a distinctive but less satisfying cycle: The rendering of the short motive into sequential climaxes suggests Obrecht at times, and of course the ostinato suggests Hercules, but the severity of the basic material also comes to suggest something of the Missa Mater patris (from the previous Tallis Scholars program, numbered higher than this one, suggesting they wanted to end with a showpiece...) — the latter being the more mature elaboration (& a cycle that seems to be growing on me now, despite dismissing it years ago...). One might even note e.g. nascent madrigalisms or relate this thread of "insistence" in Josquin's output to e.g. Faulte d'argent.... (None of the masses on this last disc seem particularly transformative, in fact, even if one ends up being a stylistic exhibition....) The other item — on what is the only three mass program in the series — is then the Missa D'ung aultre amer, which replaces the benedictus with the motet Tu solus & on this program even involves singing the Ockeghem song. And although I've generally been content with technical choices by the Tallis Scholars in the last seven entries in their Josquin series, they do often lack detailed consideration, and basically opt for a consistent overview sort of approach. In the case of the Missa D'ung aultre amer, though, tuning considerations come more to the fore, such that sections of this short mass suggest ambiguities between Pythagorean (as would have been normal for Ockeghem) & mean-tone (as was becoming more common in Josquin's lifetime), a "historical" sort of tuning clash ignored by this rendering.... (Per prior comments around tuning in recent Ockeghem chanson projects, this mass then presumably gives an opportunity for a more detailed look at these tuning transitions & how they're sometimes handled ambivalently in music — not so unlike Ockeghem's music simultaneously suggesting multiple modalities....) So that's not an investigation for which one would turn to the Tallis Scholars, who take more of a high level view of "Renaissance music" in the first place (i.e. downplaying or eliding the medieval transition from the start...). But the interpretations here, and generally since this series resumed in 2008 with the Missa Sine nomine, have been striking & energetic & with a good sense of the overall characteristics of the masses. It's unfortunate that the first two programs weren't redone, but the rest make for a solid "backbone" of major mass interpretations heading into 2021: Maybe several will still be my favorites in a year, maybe not, but mostly I'm hoping for more attention to the motets & various other unilluminated corners. We'll see. It's time to transform the Josquin discography, and I'd be happy to view the Tallis Scholars series as the last of its prehistory(!).

Releases tend to come in bursts in this area, but even after all these years, I have to note surprise in seeing a second Ockeghem Complete Songs production come not only so closely on the heels of the first (in decades), but at both having been recorded in Massachusetts mostly in 2018.... I'm still partial to the approach taken by Blue Heron, whose second volume is due to be released in 2022, but that by Cut Circle is impressive in its own way: For one thing, the latter is already complete — albeit with a tentatively attributed item slated to appear on a future, more general program of anonymous songs (that also sounds welcome) — while hopefully the virus situation won't derail the former. (Glancing at their web site in preparation for these comments suggests that Blue Heron is still in business....) And Scott Metcalfe's approach for Blue Heron does involve some instruments at times, although virtually no doubling, and with the vast majority of parts (at least so far) performed by a changing selection of voices, while that by Jesse Rodin for Cut Circle is entirely vocal. The latter comes off a little dogmatically, despite the disclaimer to that end, but is certainly worthwhile, particularly as it's conceived with all voices singing the texts at all times (rather than the simple vowels that some groups use). More significantly among the differences, though, even as it's not specifically discussed in the accompanying materials, is tuning: Cut Circle is tuned in mean-tone, and always sounds grating to me when their album starts, but I warm up to it with exposure.... Actually, their tuning is very good, very precise... which seems kind of odd to hear for mean-tone vocal music, but I can pretend I'm listening to the Buxheimer Orgelbuch sometimes.... So what should it be? I find the sort of post-Pythagorean tuning by Blue Heron truly buoyant in comparison, with a lively rhythmic quality that emerges from the more incisive cadential phrasing. In contrast, Cut Circle sounds more like later music, with phrasing a bit more blunted at times, the music generally more extended & ponderous... suggesting those "points of imitation" that would become so ubiquitous. It's a quality interpretation, though, and clearly projects a more future-oriented vision of Ockeghem, although note that cadences in thirds wouldn't even be definitive yet for Josquin.... It's a kind of 16th century vision of Ockeghem, but his music does hold up to it: Obviously as the Buxheimer remark suggested, mean-tone was not unknown in this period, and even as a prestigious composer of polyphony like Ockeghem presumably thought in the older technical context, his music works remarkably well this way. (That's unlike, say, some of Dufay's music which totally falls apart outside of a Pythagorean scheme — even as some was also successfully adapted for new contexts. One might also consider Ockeghem's works created to be sung in more than one mode: Perhaps that's analogous, and it wouldn't surprise me if tuning ambiguities were consciously considered too....) And actually, the songs performed in a coarser or more rustic manner are the strength of this interpretation (perhaps ironically, evoking the later Parisian chanson at times?) — so it would then probably be worthwhile to figure out exactly which songs sound most idiomatic in mean-tone (although I haven't attempted any such specific tracking to this point myself). Anyway, I hope that this release also signals that neglect of 15th century chansons will be receding into the past more generally....

Firenze 1350 is the fourth album from the young Sollazzo Ensemble, and to avoid any pretense of suspense here, it was also added to my personal list. Since winning a recording contract, Sollazzo Ensemble has drawn quite a bit of attention, with this latest album having been visited here at the FAQ more than most before I could get to this write-up.... Yet their first album was released only in 2017, even as it seems much longer ago now (& indeed their previous, Leuven Chansonnier Vol. 1, is still on the "recently issued" list here...). And while their performances had been appealing, including as exemplifying the next generation of conservatory technique, the programs have generally been of the motley sort, and so haven't really grabbed me in terms of exploring repertory (as opposed to refining technique). When it comes to this "medieval Florentine garden" though, most programs continue to involve a variety of composers & sources anyway, and so a mixed program seems normal — & in this case, actually more focused than most of their previous releases (which have been thematic). And even the sacred tracks bring something compelling here, seeming to fit right into the program as a whole.... Of course, another factor around this particular album is that director Anna Danilevskaia had already appeared (albeit on only one track) with Ensemble Syntagma — led by Alexandre Danilevski — on their two Trecento albums (which still seem relatively recent, but are actually from 2008 & 2011), along with (sister?) Sophia, who has appeared on all three. So there's a specific history, and Sollazzo builds on that history, becoming both less idiosyncratic (as e.g. there's a carillon track on Rosa e Orticha), as well as more precise & expressive — including via better sound engineering. There's less cumbersome orchestration, with variety arising more organically from the ensemble... & generally a greater command & sophistication emerging with time & attention, as one would expect (or at least hope). The result makes a strong opening impression, even as the breakneck voices become a little choppy keeping the rhythm in the showy first track, cadencing magnificently into the following instrumental.... There is nothing stiff here, and the ensemble's handling of mensuration is also exemplary, allowing lines to regain their own sense of space, especially in moments of repose: It's not a raucous performance, but rather a charged & colorful one, bringing a potent expressiveness to a repertory that appears relatively often — in general — on record, but never systematically. (And perhaps it's about time for that latter point to change.)

I'm not sure that there's really much to say about the new recording of Ortiz's Trattado de Glosas beyond that I'm adding it to my personal list to replace the Savall classic, but perhaps a few additional thoughts.... Of course, although the lists include some rather old recordings, especially as the years continue to sail by, they're meant to be updated with new interpretations — particularly since performance continues to advance in this repertory, and on many fronts. That the Savall recording remained in place for so long is definitely a testament to its stature, expressed in part by the fact that another musician hadn't chosen to duplicate it. It'd also started to feel dated, both in technique & sound, and so the new program is clearly superior in those "objective" ways (& indeed learns so much from Savall). But then, the sense of exploration, even struggle, in that classic rendition becomes an expressive factor of its own... although perhaps coming to seem uniformly languid at times. The new interpretation, in contrast, seems totally in command right from the opening stroke, tautly energetic & lyrically effusive. It's thus the next generation for both technique & expression — making for a clear choice, both more lively & more delicate. And so why Ortiz? This is one of those unique sets of pieces, perhaps with an academic intent one might say, that does continue to stand out for me within a wealth of sixteenth century instrumental development, in part because of its novel textures around solo viol with contrapuntal accompaniment, but also for its sophisticated contrapuntal-melodic analysis, shining through in sound after all these years.

As I anticipate (perhaps?) some other Spring releases on which to remark, I do want to note the recent Two Lutes with Grace (Grace being the name of the vocalist who appears on five tracks of this actually quite literally named album): In some ways, this is a followup program to Lewon's previous Straight from the Heart, although the music is centered a short while later. In particular, while the former also includes later transcriptions — & an unusual (for its situation more than its music) Duo by two known composers — it continues to advance plectrum lute technique. Recorded only four years later, and after interpretations about which I'd already specifically noted advances in instrumental technique, it does so notably yet again, yielding what appears to be a very idiomatic rendering of this relatively secondary music. (Although such ideas on lute rendering would obtain increased currency in the sixteenth century, that would come to be without the plectrum....)

The Beauty Farm project continues apace with a new Ockeghem double album, and to remove any suspense, I did add it to my personal list: In fact, the discussion there quotes the prior discussion of the Sound and the Fury's Johannes Ockeghem 2, which ended up being the most read entry over in the "cdc" listings. In particular, I discussed my view of the vocal interpretation, the approach to ensemble tuning, etc., and why I (greatly) prefer it to the more "ethereal" versions featuring meek singing & alignment focused on the highest registers. Of course, Beauty Farm continues the same priorities, and is consequently even more committed to that approach — if perhaps their voices end up sounding a little more "professional." In any case, that digression into my past comments aside, the first disc of the new double album duplicates that prior program, and does so with even more energy & sophistication. (The Beauty Farm version is about ten percent faster, in factual terms.) In this, they continue the tradition of their own prior Ockeghem program (which ends up being their only single CD album to date, actually) — still a superlative performance — & even go on to duplicate much of the next SATF Ockeghem program with a newly sophisticated take on the Missa Cuiusvis toni. The latter is paired, finally, with the early Missa Caput, which although not a major feature of the double program for me, is also given a strong interpretation. And as noted in the paired discussion, the Missa My My of the first disc remains one of Ockeghem's most striking cycles, here in a particularly striking interpretation as well, while the Missa Ecce ancilla Domini is one of his most satisfying "traditional" cantus firmus masses. At times, Beauty Farm seems noisier or "grittier" than SATF, particularly in the lower parts, but while part of that is improved articulation, part of it relates to recording balance & resonance. And although I hadn't talked much about recording quality until recently, experience with contemporary repertory has let me hear how much the newer technology can improve clarity, something that still seems to be in flux when it comes to engineering these resonant church settings: So here the greater sense of space is welcome, but the resonance is also a bit much (i.e. hazy) at times. (It's also amazing that the SATF program being reprised was recorded nearly ten years ago. Time flies.) While the notes go on to discuss the Phrygian mode (around not only Missa My My & Missa Cuiusvis toni, but the model chanson Presque trainsi as well), they also make a quality attempt to locate these cycles within Ockeghem's output as a whole. (One thing they don't discuss is his five-voice cycles — & how these also elaborate new techniques while pointing to the future....) So that's welcome, and I might also note e.g. how abruptly some of these cycles seem to end, particularly as compared to e.g. Josquin's carefully prepared climactic endings in the next generation. Comparatively, Ockeghem's music simply seems to run its (lyrical) course — & one can even come to appreciate why a handful of his cycles end with the Credo.... So is there such a thing as "a great interpretation" in this repertory? For years, it seemed like we were struggling just to understand the notes & rhythms, let alone the overall flow of the pieces, but things do continue to develop. I still find myself regularly preferring the latest releases, as understanding & command continue to improve, but perhaps that changes at some point? It seems that I continue to feel, so often, that another group has achieved a new standard.... (And if some of Ockeghem's masses "resist categorization" for their "experimental" qualities, it stands to reason that they would be among the last to receive their due today.... Yet, I suppose that situation is also countered by the relative frequency of these re-readings.) These interpretations are indeed following other quality interpretations, though, and so I should note that although I came to prefer them, they didn't necessarily jump out with a huge first impression, but rather created a stronger sense of the music over time. And that seems more typical of a more mature performance repertory.... Finally, perhaps I should say something about the delay in discussing this album: When I first learned of its release, it was marked for December, and so I didn't check back until last month (& wanted to avoid holiday-time shipping if I could), but it turned out that it was released in October & so I could have done this write-up a while ago.... As it is, then, there were "only" four albums added to my personal list for 2019, with this being the most impressive (if I'm tempted to reprise the Record of the Year after a hiatus...), and with (coincidentally, I guess) the other Ockeghem release being particularly valuable (although "incomplete," e.g. no Presque trainsi, until its pending second volume appears) as well. So I guess this was an "Ockeghem Year," for some reason. As far as criticism, I'm also really getting tired of these covers, boring pictures of models against garish backgrounds... but I suppose they're easy to spot.

The new album in the Tallis Scholars' Josquin cycle actually begins with Brumel — to recall the previous entry — & indeed a similarly "danceable" & motivic piece in Mater Patris: Their performance of this short motet is less lively or taut than those by Musica Secreta, but it does set the stage for a quality performance of Josquin's parody mass on this piece. I'd actually forgotten about the Missa Mater Patris, since I'd long ago accepted suggestions that it was stylistically incongruous, and thus not by Josquin. However, more recently, e.g. in considerations around the Missa Quem dicunt homines, I've come to realize & appreciate (i.e. believe) that incongruity could actually define much of Josquin's late mass writing, in that experimenting with different styles apparently appealed to him. Peter Phillips actually spends very little time making an argument that the mass is by Josquin, merely noting that some had suggested otherwise, and indeed, who else might have written this? That said, it's also completely different from so much of his music, taking the repetitive motivic style to an extreme, or as Phillips says, "paring down a highly developed method." I can't say as I really enjoy the result, but it's distinctive — & that much more severe than what Brumel himself undertook. (One might analogize the sacred austerity of Missa Pange lingua, a cycle that could really use an updated interpretation, to a sort of "secular austerity" in Missa Mater Patris, with their differing configurations of simplicity....) Phillips goes on to make more curious remarks about the paired Missa Da pacem, as having been attributed to Bauldeweyn (after a history of being admired as a work by Josquin), even suggesting that perhaps the cycle is a dual composition because, while some of the passages are not very interesting (to Phillips anyway), some are just too good to be by Bauldeweyn! I find this to be an outrageous suggestion, as if Bauldeweyn was simply incapable of writing good music (which I'd very much dispute based on the revelatory Beauty Farm double album that I continue to hear often), but also as if Josquin basically defines good music for the period. I suppose that the latter is a historical position, but also seems like patent nonsense that Phillips ought to be able to resist... I guess he's fallen under the spell of deification. (Or perhaps the suggestion is actually whimsical, simply a way to argue for continuing attention to the piece?) Anyway, the Missa Da pacem is definitely more directly enjoyable for me, although not as appealing as some of Bauldeweyn's other settings. Both interpretations are well done, especially (perhaps ironically) the second, as the Tallis Scholars continue to improve their command, year after year. (And once again, we have no idea when these recordings were made, as documentary information of the sort is totally & outrageously neglected. There are also far too many track breaks, making the album a real hassle to use. It seems almost hostile.) The first mass performance could probably be more aggressive & lively.... Still, as performances of c.1500 mass cycles go, these are among the best. I'm just not that excited by the resulting music (particularly given Phillips' condescension toward Bauldeweyn). Anyway, if previous comments are to be believed, there's only one planned issue remaining in this cycle: I won't try to guess what it might contain, as this program was already something of a surprise....

Discussion

I will now be keeping at least a year of remarks on this page. This will allow readers to construct their own year-end summaries of recordings in this category, if they so desire. (There is now also an archive, although it dates only to the October 2014 format revision.)

Because of changes in the recording business, and taking a more flexible approach personally, the timeliness of remarks will not be as much of a priority as in the past. So items might be discussed somewhat later than they appear, and the "year" in releases will be compromised.

(I will dispense with the other self-serving remarks that used to occupy this space, and keep it brief.)

To earlier remarks.

To early music CD Index with search.

To jazz remarks.

To Early Music FAQ.