Byrd Flies Again in New Deutsche Release

William Byrd

Performed by FRETWORK

Virgin Records

Virgin Classics has recently spun off an ancillary series called Veritas, which offers an opportunity "to hear early music performed in an authentic style" while striving "to be faithful to the past through a combination of academic research technical excellence and interpretive insight."

These are heady goals for even the most robust of classical labels, but though Virgin Classics may not occupy the uppermost rung in term of financial clout and big-name draws, it has championed several relatively unknown ensembles which can outplay the competition, big label or not. A good example is the Brahms piano quartet cycle recorded by Domus, which outshines Sony's offering with a super-powerhouse lineup of Isaac Stern, Jaime Laredo, Yo-Yo Ma, and Emanuel Ax.

The viol consort Fretwork may well be next on the list of Virgin Classics' fortuitous finds.

Their release of the Consort Music of William Byrd is a most welcome complement to the Tallis Scholars' sublime recording of Byrd's Great Service on Gimell.

Fretwork does not use the oft-abused phrase "authentic performance on period instruments" as crutch or excuse for poor intonation, uncoordinated ensemble, or sheer artistic ineptness. Perhaps no other musical field has had so many artistic shams and imposters.

But, true to motto of the Virgin Classics Veritas series, Fretwork manages to integrate early music scholarship with excellent playing and convincing and convincing interpretations.

Though William Byrd predated Bach by well over a century, those who find Bach's music enchanting (I cannot help but reflexively consider the Goldberg Variations at this point) should find much in common with Byrd's own brand of contrapuntal music.

Most of the pieces Byrd wrote for the viol consort were based on a plainsong theme, supported by contrapuntal figurations by the accompanying instruments. Though the bare-bones outline of the form itself is admittedly simple, those who simply dismiss Byrd's mantric writing as constricting or stultifying miss the point.

It is not so much the form that matters here as that of the content within that form. Think of the sonnet--its construction is rigidly decreed, but poets have demonstrated time and time again that it is possible to transcend the apparent limitations of the sonnet, for within its confines, one can say whatever one wishes. Likewise, Byrd showed that it was possible to outstep the ostensible boundaries for plainsong writing by imbuing it with a passion (perhaps a bit cerebral by Romantic standards, but potent passion nevertheless) that stemmed from his religious frustration as a staunch Roman Catholic in Anglican England. Similarly, though Bach was "only" a Lutheran, his music resonates with passion that many of his interpreters and biographers sought to downplay or even negate, thinking it incongruous with the strict Baroque compositional forms.

Of the viol consort playing itself, the technical and artistic execution most enjoyable, and I especially appreciated the carefully treated passages where Byrd deliberately toyed with dissonance.

Fretwork produces a highly listenable recording, it a bit hypnotic at times. I must also admit a special fondness for some of the extra-musical sonic background of the hair on the bows against the strings. Rest assured, though, that if is not so much disconcerting as endearing.

My only objection was the fragmented nature of the recording itself, a compilation taken from three separate takes in as many different locations, and spanning 1987 to 1993.

One would expect the sound quality to differ quite perceptibly between the sections recorded at one location versus another, but there are no such abrupt signposts, which earns my praise for the sound engineers.

Quite impressively, Fretwork maintains a stylistic and artistic continuum throughout the years. One could be fairly easily convinced that this recording was made in one continuos period, rather than three.

Will this become a best-seller? Probably not, though in classical music, as in all else, one should not judge the quality of a master merely by counting his followers.