It was not so long ago that Winchester Cathedral Choir recorded the Funeral Music under Martin Neary in a fine disc of music for solemn occasions (EMI, 9/88—nla). Since then, of course, there have been directorial changes in the upper echelons of cathedral music and for the past five years the Winchester choir have been drawing on David Hill's unusual qualities. Hill is a master of long-breathed melody and sustained intensity over a long period, as he demonstrated at Westminster Cathedral with several unsurpassed recordings of polyphonic masterpieces. In his current post there is less call for seamless and abstract mass settings but he none the less brings to Purcell's anthems a breadth of vision inspired by the time-span of earlier genres. Indeed, it is the range of anthems skilfully chosen from amongst Purcell's finest church music which distinguishes this disc as much as the funeral pieces. Jehova, quam multi sunt hostes mei is particularly effective, exemplifying not only Hill's astute pacing but also his vigorous sense of the dramatic declamatory style which Purcell must have gleaned from continental sources. The open-throated treble sound is equally appropriate and characterizes the vocal colouring of almost all the works.
The soloists for the verse anthems are drawn both from the ranks of the choir and a pool of professional soloists. Between them they shape the music with spirit and eloquence as can be relished in the abundant fruits of My beloved spake. The strings of The Brandenburg Consort balance the buoyant vocal style here with sparkling rhythmic exchanges but I was less persuaded by their clipped and somewhat mechanical articulation. Rejoice in the Lord alway is a case in point where the ravishing opening is denied the imploring and enigmatic phrasing which in the hands of Herreweghe and Leonhardt lends an air of irresistible nostalgia to the proceedings.
For the Funeral Music, the choice is almost endless and likely to increase as Purcell's tercentenary fast approaches. This version includes the Sentences from the early 1680s with the music from Queen Mary's funeral of 1695, as does Andrew Parrott's thoughtful account. Winchester benefits from that fragility and loneliness which a solo treble can give to ''In the midst of life'', especially in a gothic acoustic (though which of the two solo trebles sings here is not clear in the booklet). For such a moving liturgy I unashamedly plump for the supplicatory prayerfulness of a fine cathedral choir who balance expression and dignified restraint without a hint of self-indulgence. The Baroque Brass of London capture the doleful strains with finesse and make wonderful musical sense of the Canzona. The same players on 'flat' trumpets reappear on all current versions (five on my desk). There is good reason for this: only the truly dedicated are prepared to spend hours practising an instrument which splits notes as soon as you look at it, for a complete repertoire lasting no more than ten minutes. The one consolation is a cornered market and maybe after next year's Purcell celebrations a lower mortgage repayment.'