1989 was something of an annus mirabilis for recordings of Tallis's works, especially his great responsory Spem in alium: here is yet another to add to the list. The Sixteen, expanded to 'The Forty' for the occasion, have produced a brilliant performance, possibly the most musically satisfying of any I have encountered, matched only by that of The Tallis Scholars (Gimell) in 1986. In company with the Taverner Choir and Consort under Andrew Parrott on EMI, The Sixteen opt for a single singer to a part: this, and the fact that they have transposed the piece up a tone, makes for greater clarity, and it is this recording, to my mind, that brings out the counterpoint with the best definition—a joy for the ear. The balance, too, is more even than in the Taverner recording. But what really distinguishes this performance is the skilful handling of the whole architectonic structure: as it stands, the motet might appear an unwieldy, almost unmanageable mass of sound; Christophers, with well-defined individual entries, with the great on-going sweep of the movement from choir to choir, with the exciting interchanges of closely-wrought antiphony, has made it possible for every listener to register a clear picture of the entire musical edifice. Finally, by attacking the second ''Respice'' rather quietly, he sustains, in a masterly fashion, the slow crescendo that works its way through the whole of this last section, bringing the motet to a strong climax, with a sense of inevitability as well as power. It may lack the peculiarly other-worldly quality of David Hill's Winchester recording for Hyperion, but is none the less a splendid musical achievement.
The 40-part motet is followed immediately by Tallis's well-known gentle, unpretentious setting of the Te lucis. Nothing could be a greater contrast: the complex multi-choral texture gives place to the lean single line of the chant, with its quiet, five-part alternatim variant. Here, and in Jesu salvator saeculi, a minor adjustment of the tempo might have matched the chant more perfectly to the polyphony. Apart from this important question of tempo, the chant sections, here and elsewhere—particularly in the responsory Loquebantur—are sung with a fine legato and a good sense of shape and phrasing.
Christophers has opted everywhere for a higher-than-written pitch, usually up a minor third. This enhances the clarity of the part-writing and adds brightness and intelligibility to Tallis's delectable false relations, notably in Salvator mundi and O nata lux. This last piece is performed to a slow three-in-a-bar, not the frequently heard compound time. Its attractive, unhurried tempo is characteristic of Christophers's interpretation of most of the pieces, though not of the final and most glorious one of all: Tallis's rarely heard six-part Marian antiphon, Gaude gloriosa—a fitting conclusion to such a feast of sound. The high voices have the leading role, particularly in the fifth stanza, where both means and trebles are divided. The blend and tuning are immaculate. Tallis reverts, in this piece, to the ecstatic style of the early Tudor school, with long stretches of blissful melismata and an endless momentum propelling the music forwards towards a mighty climax—just the sort of piece in which The Sixteen excel.'