These settings of the same text by two Italian composers (more exactly, Sicilian in the case of Astorga) who spent much of their lives in Spain vary from each other both by the different groupings of the lines into movements and by the stylistic changes that had taken place in music in the course of at least half a century, possibly more, that separates them. (Dating of Astorga’s work – very popular in the nineteenth century, rarely heard in this – is variously placed at 1707 and 1730.) In this earlier setting there is a good deal more contrapuntal writing, especially in three of the four choruses it contains, as well as some diversity of style: more ornate in the double duet ‘Quis est homo’ and, in particular, the extremely florid, almost operatic, final ‘Amen’, but gently pathetic in the instrumental introduction and the soprano solo ‘Sancta mater’ (accompanied almost throughout by the upper strings only). Intensity of feeling is heard in the duet stanza voicing the desire to weep with the distraught Mary, and the chorus sings expressively throughout, though ‘Virgo virginum praeclara’ sounds altogether too cheerful, and in the initial chorus the tenor line obtrudes rather edgily.
There is not much question that Boccherini’s is by far the more remarkable and beautiful setting. Originally written in 1781 (at Las Arenas, where the composer was in the Infante’s service) for solo soprano, it was expanded in 1800 for three solo voices: fears expressed by a colleague on a previous occasion that this has often led to a more ‘symphonic’ sound are dispelled by King’s use of only seven instrumentalists. The anguished melancholy of the opening and the grave serenity of the ending enclose a finely planned diversity of treatments, from the intense ‘Quae moerebat’ or the lyrical ‘Fac ut portem’ (both admirably sung by Sarah Fox) to the vigorous ‘Tui nati’ or the vehemently passionate ‘Fac me plagis vulnerari’ (for all three singers). Outstanding in this work are the lamentoso ‘Quis est homo’, the heart-easing ‘Eia mater’ for soprano duet, with an affecting long prelude and postlude, and the idyllic ‘Virgo virginum praeclara’, in which, however, Susan Gritton sounds rather too forthright for so exquisite a movement. The whole performance is accomplished and polished, but the recording venue is apt to amplify singers’ higher notes out of proportion.'