Tim Phillips Principe

During the years before and after 1600, Portugal produced a small crop of masterful Requiem Masses. All of them seem to have taken Victoria's famous six-voice Requiem as a model, setting the traditional chant melodies in long notes in one of the soprano parts, accompanied by harmonious chords rather than imitative counterpoint. The Requiem by Duarte Lôbo presented here is a particularly good example. Like his compatriots, Lôbo composed his Requiem in a major tonality; Victoria's captivating gloom is replaced by an equally captivating sweetness–this funeral music is anything but morose. The Missa vox clamantis is altogether more extroverted, with a striking octave leap that begins every movement. Peter Phillips and the Tallis Scholars give the skillful, sonorous performances we've come to expect from them.

In the autumn of 1984 Anthony Phillips (ex-Genesis) was commissioned by music publishers De Wolfe to write and record an album of library music for use on TV and Film. In marked contrast to the solo 12-string pieces he was working on at the same time for Twelve, the library project had a number of requirements in the initial brief, one of the key ones being the use of then-contemporary electronic drum and synthesiser sounds.
Anthony composed a number of tracks for the project and scored a selection of them which were then recorded by some top session musicians (credited on the original album sleeve under the name 'X-Cess') in De Wolfe's London studio in the spring of 1985…

As a first, this time around the individual tracks go less by titles than by explanatory cues, for in the first, “Bridging,” we find connections already being made between disparate continents. Its guitar-like exuberance and melodic percussion (courtesy of Alain Joule) skirt arco territories toward stillness. “The Flow” brings about a sense of fluidity through electronic whispers, Joule’s vivid comments accentuating the bass’s inner core and painting its outer skin with observations. Phillips elicits a range of avian effects, from twittering concealed in foliage to lanky elegance of cranes and waterfowl, both hunting and in the rapture of a mating dance. “Ripples Edge” does indeed trace the water’s rim with its opening harmonics and navigates surface tensions like a water skater.

This release is the last in a series of nine Josquin mass recordings by The Tallis Scholars and their director, Peter Phillips. The series began in 1986, and Phillips has been the group's director since it was founded in 1973. The Tallis Scholars are, thus, a well-oiled machine, and they're capable of a flawless vocal blend that's hard to match even among England's superb collection of small choirs (the Scholars are ten strong). There are other ways to sing Josquin, but their hyper-clarity works well in his music, for it brings out the music's striking, Bachian complexity. This particular album, despite its ultimate position, is especially good, for in the Missa Hercules Dux Ferrarie and Missa Faysant Regretz, it's best to have no distractions from the strikingly bold underlying structure.