Berezovsky’s contribution to Russian musical life was 
          significant. There is debate as to his year of birth – though 1745 seems 
          to be a reasonable guess – and legend has it that he was born "to 
          Cossacks in the town of Glukhov" in Eastern Ukraine. But his apprenticeship 
          was a classic one, entirely familiar to composers in Western Europe 
          – he studied under Padre Martini in Bologna, writing the first opera 
          and Violin Sonata by an Ukrainian/Russian composer. The notes of this 
          most welcome disc are somewhat elliptical on the point but I infer that 
          he committed suicide at 32. 
        
        The CD divides broadly into two parts – Liturgy and 
          Eucharistic Verses. It seems fair to agree with the sleeve-note that 
          musico-religiously Berezovsky’s impulse was to try to bring the form 
          of Ukrainian liturgy closer to the Catholic Mass. Presumably his firm 
          Italian grounding had equipped him to that effect and the impress of 
          the music, notwithstanding the native forms Berezovsky employs, seem 
          to demonstrate it conclusively. In the Credo of the Liturgy, the remarkable, 
          rapid homophonic chant is one such example of Berezovsky’s use of a 
          national tradition. It is a spectacular piece of music, well negotiated 
          by the choir, and was published several times in Russia in the nineteenth 
          and twentieth centuries. Typically eloquent expressively is Meet 
          it is, a small masterpiece of a setting from the Liturgy. 
        
        The Eucharistic Verses consist of two stanza verses 
          and a refrain to "Alleluia." Within the seemingly limited, 
          indeed self-limiting form, Berezovsky constructs compact polyphonic 
          movements. The flexible basses in The Salvation Cup I will receive 
          embody an already characteristic Russian tradition. In Joy for the 
          Blessed, a very short setting, we can hear some wayward and exposed 
          voices in the female choir – there is some bulging of the line elsewhere, 
          notably from the women. There are three settings of Praise the Lord, 
          of which the third is the most propulsive, devotionally ecstatic and 
          least inward looking. Let the Lord Enthrone is one of the so-called 
          Choral Concerts, a form at which Berezovsky was particularly adept and 
          one of only three such to survive. His Italianate training equipped 
          him with a sure lyrical gift, though the work is itself thematically 
          uncomplex. Nevertheless his singular sensitivity for word setting and 
          placement is always in evidence. In four recognisable movements in its 
          barely six minute span it brings to an end a revealing disc. A pity 
          there are no texts.
        
        
        Jonathan Woolf