This is an intentionally understated performance of what is probably 
                Monteverdi's best known choral work. Restful, subdued, nuanced 
                with good cause - and to great effect. This won't be the Vespers 
                for those who want the bold brass of a more exuberant interpretation. 
                Yet it is a faithful, subtle and persuasive account.
              
                
              
It's sometimes wrongly 
                believed that the Vespers were written for the vast and 
                resonant spaces of St Mark's, Venice. In fact, completed in 1610, 
                they predate the composer's appointment to the position of maestro 
                di cappella of the basilica by three years. Although it is usually 
                conjectured - quite reasonably - that Monteverdi trusted that 
                to expose his expertise and splendid imagination by presenting 
                this outstanding collection of pieces to the Mantuan court would 
                strengthen his claim to the position in Venice. It probably did.
              
                
              
The numbers in the 
                Vespers are apparently unconnected - or at best disparate 
                in origin and conception. There's little or no evidence that Monteverdi 
                planned to have them performed as a whole, a sequence - as we 
                are used to today. Nor, certainly, that they would be the kind 
                of blockbuster quasi-oratorio in the way they have often been 
                treated since their re-entry into the repertoire from the 1960s.
              
                
              
Yes, the music is 
                polyphonic. Indeed it's grand (not grandiose). And certainly profound. 
                But in some ways the greatest and most lasting appreciation of 
                the force, passion and intricacy of the work comes by concentrating 
                on each part of the sequence in its own right; rather than a noisy 
                rush to the more spectacular passages.
              
                
              
Such an approach has 
                informed the interpretation of Kuijken with his Petite Bande, 
                who record the Vespers for the first time. Listen, for 
                example, to the humble, unostentatious and yet highly distilled 
                and flavour-rich Nigra Sum [CD1 tr.3] and the more ebullient, 
                yet here quite subdued Dixit Dominus [CD1 tr.2]. Even the 
                Laudate Pueri [CD1 tr.4] sounds closer to one of Monteverdi's 
                madrigals than to a church cantata (the text is from Psalm 112). 
                As Monteverdi always wanted, the words, the articulation and phrasing 
                of the devotional sentiment are paramount. The singing could hardly 
                be less operatic!
              
                
              
Kuijken went back 
                to Monteverdi's own careful instructions about how this music 
                should be performed. And followed it to the letter. Given the 
                freedom with which musicians at the time worked, to restrict oneself 
                (as here) to such a precise set of stylistic guidelines may seem 
                odd: they could choose 400 years ago, so why not do so now?
              
                
              
Well, because Kuijken 
                has succeeded in enhancing (uncovering?) a spiced and trenchant 
                drama in the Vespers. One to a part, the ten soloists of 
                La Petite Bande each play a consistent role throughout the performance. 
                These same soloists sing the choral parts. Again, this favours 
                greater intimacy and integrity; a greater unity to the whole. 
                We become familiar with singing and interpretative styles. The 
                music becomes more immediate and approachable. The way the voices 
                interact in the Laetatus sum [CD1 tr.6], for example, shows 
                this working very well. More dialogue than declamation.
              
                
              
Similarly, instruments 
                have been used more sparingly on this recording. And they are 
                either contemporary ones, or reproductions more faithfully held 
                and played than is sometimes the case. Nor is this performance 
                conducted as such. In his pithy and apposite introduction in the 
                accompanying booklet, Kuijken explains his belief in the communal, 
                joint craftspersonship approach which seems likely to have elicited 
                the best and most persuasive results in Monteverdi's time - so 
                the same now. Ownership; joint investment; subscription to a commonly 
                held conception.
              
                
              
If you want a modern, 
                spare and concentrated Vespers, this will be for you. Let 
                it  grow on you; you'll come to appreciate how intensity and focus 
                can be achieved through an almost introverted distillation - yet 
                a gentle and undemonstrative one. There is certainly a real emphasis 
                on the text. The tempi, momentum (listen to the clip of the Nisi 
                Dominus [CD1 tr.8]), technical attack and expressive power 
                of the performers are still highly polished.
              
                
              
The recording, not 
                too resonant yet spacious, supports these priorities. The miking 
                of all the soloists is appropriately close. Very satisfactory. 
                The booklet contains Latin, English, French and German texts in 
                full with brief backgrounders on Kuijken and La Petite Bande.
              
                
              
This recording is 
                a winner. Not by the opulent, extrovert terms by which we usually 
                judge Monteverdi's Vespers. But because Kuijken's conception 
                has unselfconsciously grasped the piety, wonder, celebratory nature 
                and almost passive loveliness of Monteverdi's idea without any 
                kind of 'stripping away' of varnish. And because the execution 
                of the consequent performance reaches such high standards in sound 
                and interpretation. Definitely one to add to the collection.
              
                
              
Mark Sealey