The conventional view 
                of the Lawes brothers sees the older, 
                Henry, as achieving greatness as a writer 
                of songs and the younger, William, as 
                doing his best work in his instrumental 
                music. Certainly, any one who has listened 
                to top quality recordings of William’s 
                music for viols – such as those by Monica 
                Huggett and the The Greate Consort on 
                ASV Gaudeamus (ASV GAU 146 and 147), 
                Phantasm (Channel Classics CCS15698), 
                Hesperion XXI on Alia Vox (AV9823) or 
                by Fretwork (Virgin Classics 759021-2) 
                – will surely harbour no 
                doubts as to the power and inventiveness 
                of his work in that idiom. William’s 
                writing for voices has attracted less 
                attention; his achievement here is perhaps 
                rather more uneven – certainly less 
                consistently remarkable than that of 
                his brother – but there is much that 
                is skilled and enduringly enjoyable. 
                Gordon J. Callon’s 2002 edition of William’s 
                vocal music contains almost sixty solo 
                songs, almost seventy items he groups 
                as dialogues, partsongs and catches, 
                three verse anthems, more than forty 
                psalms and some music for masques. A 
                major source for William’s vocal music 
                is the manuscript collection in his 
                own hand (Add. MS. 31432) in the British 
                Library – which also possesses the remarkable 
                and splendid autograph folio of the 
                songs of his brother Henry (Add. MS. 
                53723). Apart from their musical value, 
                both are important sources for the texts 
                of English poets of the period. 
              
 
              
I know of only one 
                other CD devoted to the vocal music 
                of William Lawes. That, called In 
                Loving Memory, was issued in 1995 
                on Musica Oscura (070972) and was also 
                the work of Anthony Rooley, with a later 
                incarnation of The Consort of Musicke 
                (though Emma Kirkby and Alan Wilson 
                contribute to both recordings). There 
                is little over lap between the two discs. 
              
 
              
In the documentation 
                of this reissue a few things have gone 
                astray. ‘Cease, O cease ye jolly shepherds’, 
                Henry Lawes’ tribute to his brother, 
                killed at the siege of Chester in 1645 
                is attributed to John Jenkins, while 
                John Jenkins’ elegy for William Lawes, 
                beginning ‘Why in this shade of night’ 
                is erroneously attributed to the dead 
                Lawes himself! I have made the necessary 
                corrections above. It should also be 
                mentioned that the words of ‘Charon, 
                O gentle Charon, let me wooe thee’ are 
                by Robert Herrick – a poet with whom 
                both brothers clearly had extensive 
                dealings. 
              
 
              
Such details apart, 
                this is a thoroughly pleasant – and 
                instructive – listen. Emma Kirkby and 
                David Thomas are on particularly good 
                form and both the tenors make attractive 
                contributions, but nobody lets the side 
                down. Particular delights include ‘Musick, 
                the Master of Thy Art’ a ravishingly 
                mournful elegy for the organist John 
                Tompkins (1586-1638); the exquisite 
                interplay of voices in ‘Charon, o gentle 
                Charon’; the grave beauty of the setting 
                of Psalm 22. Lawes doesn’t have an especially 
                strong melodic gift, but he is carefully 
                responsive to the meaning and phrasing 
                of his texts, without ever indulging 
                in excessively crude word-painting. 
                It is good to welcome this recording 
                back into circulation. It still sounds 
                very well and no one with an interest 
                in the music of mid-seventeenth-century 
                England, music centred on the artistically 
                creative but ill-fated court of Charles 
                I, should miss the opportunity to snap 
                it up. 
              
Glyn Pursglove