Our untiring classical editor Rob Barnett having already
reviewed
this disc, it was an unexpected pleasure to be asked by him
to contribute my own comments. I went through the 1970s absorbing
broadcast and recorded contemporary music like a sponge, but don't
remember encountering these pieces when they first appeared. I
suspect my ears were more orientated towards the more European
and especially Polish avant-garde at that time, the fascination
of those new sonorities being as far removed from convention as
I could imagine.
That said, there is nothing parochial about John Tavener's music, and on a 'blind' audition of this CD I might imagine more people spotting the British quality of the singing rather than that of the composition. There are some features in these settings which reminded me a little of Tippett. The twinkling piccolos and sonorous bell-like utterances in the
Dies Irae from the
Requiem might owe something to that composer, but for me the influence which kept sneaking back is that of late Stravinsky. There is something about the cool flutes in some of the
Canciones Españolas, and in the nasal muted brass, serial tone relationships and tintinnabular chords in parts of the
Requiem which remind me of the
Requiem Canticles. This and other connections exist within and enrich these scores, Messiaen in the piano part of the
Sanctus of the
Requiem for instance, but Tavener was undoubtedly a pioneer and highly individual in this field.
There are some fascinating sounds in the
Canciones Españolas. The first and last of the instrumental pieces, the
Prelude and
Postlude,
have the restrained vibrato of flutes against the similarly coloured by straight-line notes of a portativo organ. I'm not quite so convinced by the mix of medieval/contemporary rough and tumble of movements such as the
Pastor, non te aduermas and
Tres morias: the superimposition of 'new' spiky piccolos and harpsichord on 'old' drum and voice don't really do much for either. Comparing this to the kind of transformations in something like Peter Maxwell Davies' 1969
Vesalii Icones argues for a slightly less sledgehammer approach. This is however a recurring element and takes on stronger forms in the sustained clusters of the
Interlude and the timeless march of the flutes and sparkling bells which runs through the
Rosa das Rosas movement which follows.
One of the central features of the
Requiem for Father Malachy is the familiar sound of the King's Singers, in their own right pioneers of contemporary music for vocal ensemble in this period. Theirs is the limpid core of the work, with immaculate sustained chords which run through the final
Libera Me, as well as the fascinating chorale at the end of the
Dies Irae and elsewhere. Nobody sings blue notes or intonates dissonance in quite the same way, but these vocalists are also champions in some of the seriously demanding rhythmic writing elsewhere in the score. I can't get away from the Stravinskian resonances in the opening
Requiem aeternam, but the sense of nuance and colour in the chords is fascinating. The way the
Kyrie eleison builds into quasi-atonal cluster writing reminds me a little of that Polish school I mentioned earlier, and combining this with traditional plainchant creates a chilling juxtaposition of disparate worlds - comfort and discomfort, faith and unstable insecurity. The opening of the
Dies Irae might be from an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, but does create its own dramatic atmosphere. This is the longest of eight movements by far, and is filled with dark imagery.
Paul Conway's excellent booklet notes fill in more detail
about the genesis and content of these works, but to sum up, these
pieces are relatively early Tavener, and fans of his later less
dissonant work might prefer to try before they buy (the MusicWeb
offer is Sale or Return). This is music of and for its time, but
still has much to offer today. There are fascinating worlds to
be explored here, and many of the instrumental colours and compositional
structures found here are those which he has been exploiting ever
since.
These 1975 recordings are stunning. Some of the musicians in
Canciones Españolas are set widely apart in the stereo mix, giving heavy headphone users like myself the feeling that those players and singers were behind me. This works in a more antiphonal way over speakers and is more an intriguing quirk than a problem. The
Requiem for Father Malachy is an even more complex set of challenges for sound engineers, but from the subtle detail of Tavener's trademark hand-bells to weighty brass and drums the entire musical landscape is captured superbly.
Dominy Clements
The King's Singers;
The Nash Ensemble/John Tavener 
