Both these recordings were done at All Hallows’ Church, Gospel Oak, by English mixed choral ensembles who perform in a circle. Beyond these coincidences, they could hardly be more different. Clare College focus on two Masses that were printed posthumously. The four-voice Missa Emendemus in melius was recorded more than 10 years ago by the Choir of Westminster Cathedral (Hyperion, 3/13). Clare College take things much more briskly, which does the music no harm at all. The five-voice Missa Memor esto verbi tui is perhaps more distinctive but both are delivered clearly and lucidly, as one might expect. Along with the Magnificat that opens the disc, they show the collegiate choir at its best.

The Masses of the Roman composer are paired with settings of the same texts as their models by English composers, a decision that has the virtue of variety within unity. But curiously, it is in its native repertory that the ensemble’s occasional shortcomings of intonation and ensemble creep in more audibly; or perhaps that is not so curious, given that Robert White is harder to sing than Palestrina (though one wouldn’t necessarily say the same of a warhorse such as Byrd’s Emendemus in melius). But most listeners will want to hear this for the sake of the Palestrina, where they sound more secure. (Incidentally, it is claimed wrongly in the booklet that both Masses are new to the discography; would that record labels felt no need of such meaningless selling-points, or at least checked their facts.)

Where Clare College’s Palestrina anniversary commemoration avoids the obvious, Stile Antico aim straight for the top of the playlist with his most famous Mass and some scarcely less famous motets (just as they did with their Josquin disc, headlined by the Missa Pange lingua – 2/21). Thanks to their flawless ensemble work, Stile Antico can project whatever they choose, and although their approach to the work is familiar, on their own terms one can hardly imagine it done better. Of course, the terms themselves can be debated. That the latter movements seem to lose steam may be down to my taste for a less reverential approach overall, and brisker tempos. (As I’ve observed of their work previously, Stile Antico rarely resist the opportunity to luxuriate in slower ones.) But whatever the affect chosen, Stile Antico seem not to distinguish one phrase from the next in terms of emphasis or dynamic – an ‘all-over’ approach that detracts from the articulation of the musical form (at significant internal cadences, for instance) or the singling out of special moments. That the motets here fare better as a rule is arguably because there are few changes of affect within each work; even so, there can be more to the famous Sicut cervus than placid, pellucid serenity – a hint of poignancy, surely, which here eludes me, at least. (Where Stile Antico’s account of Papae Marcelli sits within the work’s vast discography is an intriguing question, which I shall address later in the year.)

Longstanding readers will be familiar with these reservations; those who don’t share them will judge that Stile Antico are on top form. Listening to the opening Exultate Deo or the superb Tu es Petrus, which maintain a jubilant and triumphal affect (respectively) throughout, it can be hard to disagree.