Medieval music by Christians, Jews and Arabs

All-female vocal ensembles specializing in medieval music have become increasingly common in recent years, but there is little danger of market saturation. While I imagine that most listeners will be familiar with Anonymous 4 and Trio Mediaeval, I wholeheartedly recommend immediate investigation into the work of both Canty and Ensemble Peregrina. Canty, like Trio Mediaeval, also performs contemporary music (including my own, it should be noted in the interests of full disclosure), and the four singers who make up the group bring a singular intelligence and breadth to their performances that I am convinced would be quite different if they sang only medieval chant. And medieval chant is precisely what makes up Flame of Ireland (Gaudeamus CDGAU 354, rec 2002/4, 77'), a celebration of St Brigit, the greater part of the material for which comes from a 15th-century breviary (MS.80 in the library of Trinity College, Dublin), a Sarum book but including Irish saints.

Canty approach the repertory with simultaneous respect and vigour; Rebecca Tavener writes in her notes that 'The date of the manuscript might have tempted us to perform this material using late-medieval techniques such as applied measures and improvised harmonies. We have steadfastly resisted doing this, wishing to present the Office in a much more archaic manner', and this certainly pays dividends. What is speculative, however, is the use of a harp (played by William Taylor), apparently following an increasingly large body of evidence that such instruments were used in this kind of context. While I have no problem with this idea in itself, I do wonder sometimes at the kind of improvised accompaniment to the lectiones—it does on occasion seem harmonically to undermine the formulaic modal structure of the readings, though I sense no such problem in the antiphons or responsories.

The harp also appears on another Canty disc, this time of Scottish polyphony: Felix femina (Gaudeamus CDGAU 360, rec 2006, 78'). Indeed, the sounds of the harp are the first thing one hears, prefacing an Ave maris stella sung in chant. The basic structure of the recording is that of a Lady Mass, using material from the manuscript w1, but this has not been adhered to strictly, with the result that intuition and good programming for purely musical reasons play an important and successful part in the disc.

Ensemble Peregrina, one of many groups trained at the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis, in Mel et lac (Raumklang RK 2501, rec 2003, 52') construct a programme around the 12th-century Aquitanian polyphonic repertory, specifically music for great feasts of the Virgin. The contrast with groups such as Sequentia or Anonymous 4 is marked indeed; one not only feels that the members of Peregrina live and breathe this music, but that they truly enjoy singing it. There is a sense of joyousness in their ravishingly full sound that, in combination with their mastery of this elusive style, makes this recording unique. Very occasional use is made of the harp and the symphony, but by far the greater part of the disc is unaccompanied—indeed, the entry of the harp, as in Epithalamica, attributed to Abelard, can come as quite a shock, though there is of course plenty of room for instrumental participation in a work so outside traditional categories. The variety of timbre achieved by the four singers of Peregrina ensure that there is no question of monotony, and this in its turn underlines the tremendous variety to be found in the repertory itself.

Gothic Voices are, of course, no strangers to the variety of a number of medieval repertories. Their new disc, The unknown lover (Avie AV2089, rec 2006, 71'), including the complete works of Solage, is perhaps one of their most impressive. Like Ensemble Peregrina, they show the kind of familiarity with the music that enables them to grab it by the scruff of its neck, and treat it with a familiarity that breeds anything but contempt—no mean achievement when it comes to the complexities of the Ars Subtilior. The very first track, the remarkable Le Basile, points to what is to come in no uncertain terms, its complex polyphony...