The British love their traditions. One of these is the
searching of the cellars of the Palace of Westminster, prior
to the 'State Opening of Parliament'. Only when they haven't
found any explosives does the Queen enter the Houses of Parliament
in order to deliver 'the Queen's Speech'. This tradition refers
to an event in 1605 which shook the country, and which is known
as the 'Gunpowder Plot'.
Queen Elizabeth had died in 1603, and the Catholics had
hoped her successor, James I, would change the attitude of the
government toward Catholicism. But they were disappointed, and
some decided it was time to take action. A plan was made to
blow up the Houses of Parliament, which would kill the King
and of course many Members of Parliament. But during the preparations
some of the plotters got cold feet, and some may also have realised
that those parliamentarians who were on their side, would be
killed too. One of the plotters sent an anonymous letter which
reached the King, who took measures to stop the conspirators.
On 5 November the cellars of the Houses of Parliament were stormed,
where Guy Fawkes and barrels of gunpowder were found. Fawkes
and his co-conspirators was arrested and executed.
The programme on this disc has been put together at the
occasion of the fourth centenary of this event. The King's Singers
have chosen compositions by composers from both sides of the
religious spectrum, and commissioned a new composition by the
British composer Francis Pott. The choice is rather unbalanced:
Byrd, Dowland, Philips and Dering were all Catholics, and Weelkes
is the only composer in the programme who was of Protestant
conviction.
The problem with this recording is that most of the music
isn't connected in any way to the 'Gunpowder Plot' itself. The
main exception is Francis Pott's composition, and also Thomas
Weelkes' anthem 'O Lord, how joyful is the King', which was
headed with the words "for the fifth of November",
and was apparently written for the annual services of thanksgiving
for the failure of the plot. In the booklet John Milsom sheds
some light on the religious convictions of the composers on
the programme, but unfortunately he also speculates about their
view on the plot, which we don't know anything about. As if
that is not enough, the booklet contains an essay by Deborah
Mackay, 'The Powder Treason - A script in the persona of William
Byrd', which describes the turbulence of those years through
the eyes of William Byrd - again, completely fictional. It escapes
me in what way writings of this kind really help the listener
to understand the context of the music. And a comparison between
1605 and '9/11' - the terrorist attacks in the USA - as in Francis
Pott's commentary on his work, is a pretty risky business, and
is mostly based on a rather superficial understanding of the
historical context of both events.
Let us forget the booklet and concentrate on the music.
The thread of the programme is Byrd's four-part setting of the
Mass Ordinary. It was one of three mass settings which Byrd
had written between 1592 and 1595. Although Byrd was privileged
in that he was able to compose and even publish music for the
Catholic liturgy, his publisher didn't want to take any risks,
and printed the masses without title page. It is likely that
Byrd's masses were performed as part of the services in the
home of Sir John Petrie, leader of the Catholic community in
Stoudon Massey in Essex, where Byrd had moved to in 1603. From
this perspective the rather intimate atmosphere of this recording
is very appropriate. The performance by the King's Singers is
very good, but it seems to me the entrance of 'Et resurrexit'
in the Credo is too abrupt and too dramatic. The second work
by Byrd is his motet 'Civitas sancti tui', whose very sombre
character ("Thy holy city is made desolate. Sion is wasted
and brought low, Jerusalem desolate and void") is captured
perfectly.
In Thomas Weelkes' anthem 'O Lord, how joyful is the King'
we find a wholly different atmosphere, which comes through very
well in the performance. Richard Dering and Peter Philips went
abroad for religious reasons. Dering visited Italy, and his
motet 'Ardens cor meum' bears the marks of the Italian style
of the early 17th century, in particular in its declamatory
character, which isn't fully exploited here. Concordia delivers
fine performances of consort pieces by another Catholic, John
Dowland.
Lastly, 'Master Tresham: His Ducke' by Francis Pott. The
title is a clear reference to the Elizabethan era. Pott uses
texts from the 'Emblematum liber' (Book of Emblems) by Andrea
Alciato, published in Augsburg in 1531, as well as verses from
the Bible and fragments from the official record of the interrogation
of Guy Fawkes and the Agnus Dei from the Mass. In addition Byrd's
motet 'Civitas sanct tui' is quoted. The work starts off as
an Elizabethan consort piece, but when the singers enter the
style changes drastically. As I have no knowledge of contemporary
music whatsoever, I can't say anything about this composition's
merits. I'm limiting myself to saying that it doesn't appeal
to me in any way.
I'm in two minds about this disc. If I try to forget the
booklet and concentrate on the music, there is certainly a lot
to enjoy, but if I am going to play this disc again, I'll skip
Francis Pott's piece. That leaves only 55 minutes of early music,
most - probably all - of which is available in other recordings.
In particular Byrd's Mass has been recorded frequently. Those
who are open to contemporary music have to find out for themselves
whether Pott's composition is their cup of tea.
Johan
van Veen
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The King's Singers (David Hurley, Robin Tyson, alto; Paul Phoenix, tenor;
Philip Lawson, Christopher Gabbitas, baritone; Stephen Connolly, bass)
