A decade ago, no one would have thought of giving the title ''Treasures Of The Spanish Renaissance'' to a record that entirely passed over Cristobal de Morales and Tomas Luis de Victoria, men whose works have long been thought to be the pinnacles of the repertory. Here is a record that does exactly that. Admittedly Francisco Guerrero is no minor master, and it is extraordinary only that modern performers have overlooked his wonderful music for quite so long. But Alonso Lobo and Sebastian de Vivanco: are we to expect treasures to come from them? The answer, as this record effectively demonstrates, is emphatically yes. Drawing upon the researches and editions of that indefatigable Hispanophile, Bruno Turner, David Hill and the choir of Westminster Cathedral have brought to life a splendid selection of barely known music on a record that fully merits its title.
The performances too are good, but sadly not quite of the same standard as the choir's recent Gramophone Award-winning record of Masses by Victoria (A66114, 10/84). Part of the problem is the richness of the music's texture. To my mind, the strength of Westminster Cathedral Choir lies in its ability to sing long melodic lines expressively and in a broad, sustained manner. In four-part polyphony, the choir is superb; in five, six or more parts (as here), this unique quality of tensile strength begins to diminish. Two additional factors weaken the effect even further: David Hill has chosen some slow speeds that inhibit the easy flow of the counterpoint; and in several of the large pieces, the choir is accompanied—authentically, it would seem—by a Renaissance double-harp. The issue at stake here is not so much the question of whether or not the instrument should be present, but rather of what it should play and how it should pay it. Percussed with the beat, the harp serves a useful continuo function; but should it also supply rich, luxuriant arpeggios that weaken the momentum and confuse the rhythm? At times its wash of sound adds a new dimension to the music but elsewhere—as at the start of Guerrero's O sacrum convivium, I find its contribution miscalculated and its presence obtrusive.
You will gather by now that my reservations about this record concern not so much the treasures themselves as the manner in which they have been displayed. Such is the case with the two principal items on show. Guerrero's Ave Virgo sanctissima, one of the most glorious and celebrated motets of the Spanish Renaissance, here shows more signs of strain and effort than the piece demands; it is a gem that requires a restrained, simple setting. The same is true of Lobo's remarkable funeral motet, Versa est in luctum, which is paced slowly and makes laboured progress; I have heard more magical performances in concert and radio broadcasts, though sadly none has yet been captured on record. By way of compensation, however, the lithe, clean reading of Guerrero's four-part O Domine Jesu Christe would be hard to fault; this is the choir singing at its very best. A controversial record, then; but it is certainly one that all lovers of late Renaissance church music ought to hear.'