The venerable eight-person Binchois Consort
under director Andrew Kirkman has followed the well-established
practice of coupling a Renaissance mass with the (secular) ballade
on which it is based. For this excellent CD, though, they have
also interspersed the five movements of the Mass, Se la face
ay pale, with excerpts from the Proper that celebrates the
soldier-martyr, St Maurice,
a major Savoyard saint and patron.
The CD is really an attempt to recreate
aspects of the musical sound world of the Court of Savoy at
its height, in the middle of the 15th century. With the improved
economic and political fortunes of the Duchy came more opulent
artistic achievement: Guillaume Dufay (1397-1474) was at the
height of his powers. His Missa, Se la face
ay pale is thought to have been composed in the early 1450s
for the court of Savoy.
It's classic in proportion, noble in structure
and penetratingly lovely in texture. Given its prominence and
provenance, it would be tempting to look for ostentation and
superfluous manipulation of emotions in this outstanding piece
of writing by Dufay. Far from it. There is invention, accomplished
depth and a measure of innovation, although Dufay was working
within a well-defined and stable convention. But as the Binchois
Consort effortlessly makes plain, it is the power of the composer's
skill in leading us from formula (the process of the mass) to
feeling that actually affords the music its greatest impact.
They equally effortlessly set out Dufay's rich interpolation
of lines and handling of texture to communicate not grandeur
but confidence. This because the many complex passages do not
lose us; they enhance our appreciation of the in fact somewhat
simple melodies on which the Mass is based.
Is it fanciful to locate this sense of control
(distance, almost) in the expansion of Savoyard political power
at the time when Dufay was writing? His reflection of the greatness
of the Duchy in which contemporary documents suggest the composer's
patrons all believed would certainly not have been unwelcome.
But his genius is in having been able to extend this majesty
and splendour beyond the political through the sacred into the
universal. And it's such a wholeness of vision that the singers
on this CD convey so successfully.
In other words, to the Dukes Dufay was an
attribute of, almost a 'trophy' to, the grandeur of their court.
To Dufay, Dufay was a communicator of a 'higher' splendour.
This is the vision which the Consort has so successfully captured
here. Through perhaps a slower pace than might have been expected
in places; through a more leisurely and understated grasp of
the Mass's structure; and through the interspersing of movements
as previously described. The music stands in its own right.
From what we know about Dufay the person,
it's unsurprising that his political astuteness (when he came
and went from the Court in times of trouble, for example) contributed
to the impact of his music: it never ran away with itself, nor
took itself too seriously. The integrity of its very monumental
stature saw to that. So, too, the Binchois Consort sings without
pretension, secure in letting the vocal lines speak for themselves.
Two motets - O très piteulx and
Magnanime gentis as well as the ballade, Se la face ay
pale - are also to be heard. The tenor of the latter forms
the basis for the cantus firmus for the Mass. We know the dates of the motets
with unusual certainty: Magnanime gentis was written
in celebration of the peace treaty between Louis of Savoy and
his brother, Philippe. O très piteulx was composed probably
within a couple of years of, and as a stark reaction to, the
fall of Constantinople in 1453. The Binchois Consort approaches
these three pieces not as slighter second cousins to the Mass,
but with as much flexibility, suppleness and insightful subtlety
as they deserve. For there is real emotion - joy and distress
- almost palpable immediacy, and truly deft contrapuntal writing.
These suggest a mature musical reaction to external events of
such importance to patron and pilgrim.
So this is a CD to be considered very seriously
if the greatest achievements of early Renaissance polyphony
are of interest to you. There are four recent recordings. That
of Diabolus in Musica with Antoine Guerber on Alpha (908) is
undoubtedly the most worthy competitor. In fact, it's good to
have that and this both. For every bit in which the account
of Diabolus is rich, that of the Binchois is composed, collected,
restrained. It's not an argument of authenticity or expressiveness:
both have both in good measure. The Missa, Se la face ay
pale is so central to the repertoire that it can bear multiple
interpretations. And that of the Binchois Consort gets as close
to the soul of Dufay's intention as can reasonably be expected.
This is a superb account of
Dufay's Missa,
Se la face ay pale,
which is a cornerstone of the early Renaissance choral polyphonic
repertoire. The performance has flair without show, commitment
without stodginess and insight without ponderousness. A worthwhile
attempt to evoke fifteenth century court life in southern Europe at a time when so much seemed
possible.
Mark Sealey
see also Review
by Brian Wilson
