Texte paru dans: / Appeared in: |
|
| "Recommended" |
Outil de traduction ~ (Très approximatif) |
|
Reviewer: Barry
Brenesal Since we’re dealing in effect with two different projects, involving different performing forces and music, let’s deal with them as separate entities. First, a bit of background on the sacred disc. The Field of the Cloth of Gold was the setting for a meeting between England’s Henry VIII and France’s Francis I. The intent was to pave the way for a lengthy peace in support of a united front against Hapsburg encroachment. That wasn’t achieved, but for two and a half weeks the locale enjoyed a display of such wealth that it became legend. Francis relished throughout his life the prestige that came from lavish expenditure, and Henry was certainly in the running for most competitive monarch to ever sit on a European throne. The pair made a rivalry of everything they could think of: dancing, gifting, banqueting, wrestling (Henry insisted upon a match, and quickly lost), jousting tournaments, architecture—for new structures had to be erected to handle the huge retinues on both sides—and of course, music. A Mass was held at the conclusion of the event, presided over by Cardinal Wolsey, in which each kings’ chapel singers took successive Mass movements. While a great deal of detail is known about inventory at the Field, nothing is known about the sacred music employed, so Dadre’s effort here (16 selections, including the Mass movements, various motets, and three short bits of text describing the Field, read with fine theatrical flair by Philippe Valiepin) must count as an attempted reconstruction. It is ingeniously thought out, at least in respect to the French side of matters. Jean Mouton was definitely present as a member of the Chapelle du Roi, and may even have been in charge of musical management. Claude de Sermisy was a member of the Chapelle at the time, and would be elevated five years later to sous-maître de la Chapelle. Antoine Divitis had risen to the coveted position of valet de chambre in 1525. Dadre thinks this is reason enough to believe he was present at the Field, though his Credo was more likely chosen for the rich variety of his textures and dramatic use of homophony among so much expertly handled counterpoint. Simple personal preference would seem to be responsible for Ludford’s inclusion as the sole named English composer here. It’s doubtful his Gloria and Sanctus were performed in this context with other, better known and more appreciated composers present, such as Robert Fayrfax (Henry VIII”s favorite composer) and William Cornyshe, but Ludford’s is a very different, heavily arabesqued sound when compared to the less florid Mass movements of Sermisy. Dadre states emphatically that the Château de Chambord couldn’t be used as a recording venue for the program’s sacred music because its large chapel wasn’t built until the reign of Francis’s successor, Henry II. While he has declared problems with this, Dadre sees no issue using women in the superius and altus parts of the sacred works despite the fact that young boys were exclusively employed in these roles by both Francis I and Henry VIII. Nor does he explain why his Doulce Mémoire utilizes eight singers, when Francis’s Chapelle du Roi had 29 chantres, not including choirboys, and Henry’s Chapel Royal, 20 “gentlemen.” If forging the proper sound is the point, then a choir that’s less than a third of the size of Francis’s, and has women in place of choirboys, would seem as much or more of an issue than the historical venue. In fairness to Dadre, there’s nothing that states all of either monarch’s singers were involved in the celebrated Mass, though one might assume that their intense competitiveness required this; and if he wanted to recreate the experience of the Field, mirroring the vocal splendor of its sung Mass would have demanded more voices. More importantly, it leads to a problem in the balance of forces in the sacred music CD. Dadre takes note of Jehan La Caille’s comment in his report of the Field of the Cloth of Gold that Francois’s trombones were employed alongside the French choir in performing the Mass. That would have worked with 29 singers, but this album supplies a cornett and pair of trombones for its eight singers. They overwhelm at times. (Though some instrumental arrangements on this album for loud ensemble alone, such as the Bonus et miserator, provide useful contrast.) When the instruments double the superius in the opening section of the Kyrie, the result is to cast the other four voices into the shade. There are also issues with one of the two sopranos. Hers is one of the two voices (the other, an unnamed baritone) heard in Mouton’s Reges terrae coingregati sunt, and demonstrates very poor breath support. The voice drops out periodically, and exhibits slips of intonation. At a guess, it is Véronique Bourin, for the basic white color and identical flaws were present in her performance on another Doulce Mémoire album (Glossa 922902; Fanfare 37:6). She is certainly a knowledgeable, stylish singer who fits well into the overall vocal texture of the ensemble, but is a chore to listen to when singled out. Dadre and Doulce Mémoire have created attractive releases in the past of sacred music, but they are more associated with the songs and dance music of their preferred period. They return to the latter with the second disc, though Dadre has created a unique program centered around Sermisy, and Pierre Certon. The latter’s Les meslanges, comprising 96 pieces (87 chansons, 7 psalms) was published in 1570 by Nicolas Du Chemin in six voice books. Since then, the quintus has gone missing. The Center for Advanced Studies of the Renaissance in Tours, however, commissioned a new quintus from Marc Busnel, Doulce Mémoire’s bass singer. One can argue details of any given choices made in reconstructing these works, but the practical result is to permit performance of complex, elegantly fashioned music that would otherwise remain (save for somebody else’s occasional reconstruction) in manuscript. This gives a greater air of distinction to this disc than would otherwise be the case, as you won’t find a fair number of its 31 selections repeated elsewhere. The 16th-century chanson could be performed in many ways: by a series of voices a cappella, single voice with solo instrument, single voice with multiple instruments, multiple voices and instruments, or instruments alone. Dadre typically goes for the broadest variety of textures, focusing on what seems to him to work best for each selection. For this disc, Dolce Mémoire consists of five singers (soprano, alto, tenor, baritone, bass), lutes, guitar, recorders, bassoons, and tambourine. Though the baritone range can be viewed as anachronistic in context, since Dadre doesn’t employ it after earliest practice as the lowest of the voices, there’s no sense of anachronism in these beautifully fashioned performances. The sculpted phrasing and balance between parts that is more obscured at times in the sacred album is abundant here. I have once again to except a few selections featuring Véronique Bourin—such as Certon’s versions of Reviens vers moy, and the popular Tant que vivray—where her white, pencil-thin tone and unstable intonation are painful. On the other hand, I’m at a loss to figure who is singing Sermisy’s Content désir. The only soprano listed for the chansons is Bourin, yet the soprano voice heard on this cut has an engaging flicker vibrato (rather like Claudine Ansermet’s), a bright, open top, and perfect evenness. If it is the same singer, then I’d hazard a guess she’s being encouraged elsewhere to recreate a young treble’s sound. Assuming that’s the case, she should stick to being her more distinguished self. I would
count the second CD an almost complete success, both for treatment and
material, and the first album a moderately qualified one due to the balance
issues already addressed. The oversized book format which has been
criticized in Fanfare’s pages before by some of my colleagues here is used
to supply numerous full-color, well-reproduced images from contemporary
manuscripts and paintings, and black and white shots of the artists,
instruments, and the venues. The engineering is first-rate, with a moderate
reverberation to the sacred music and a close, suitably dry sound to the
secular content. Recommended. | |
|
|
|
|
Cliquez l'un ou l'autre
bouton pour découvrir bien d'autres critiques de CD |
|
/3760009293571.jpg)
