The Portrait of Sir Henry Unton by unknown artist
Verse anthem workshop in memory of Pat Lockwood
VOICES & VIOLS
Tutor: William Hunt
Location: Knutsford Methodist Church
Reviewer: Philip Gruar
Pat Lockwood had a long and close involvement with NWEMF, and was for many years a prominent and much-loved participant in the Ambleside Summer School, so to have a workshop specially dedicated to her memory was a lovely idea – and what better subject than verse anthems for voices and viols, to reflect Pat’s love both of viol-playing and singing. Bill Hunt, a founder member of ‘Fretwork’, has extensively researched the history and performance practice of the verse anthem, and has led successful workshops on the subject for other Fora, so he was the obvious choice for Pat’s memorial day.
As we gathered over coffee, we were able to look at photographs of Pat playing and singing at musical gatherings over the years, most of them including other well-remembered NWEMF members, as well as ourselves looking disconcertingly younger!
The workshop was well supported, with about 20 singers and seven viol players, of whom I was one. The pieces studied were in six parts, so two of the viol players also took turns at singing. In his introduction, Bill stressed how popular and successful the verse anthem was in England in its time. He quoted Andrew Ashbee’s estimate that no fewer than 800 works may have been composed that could be called verse anthems. This number includes both consort anthems and anthems with just keyboard accompaniment. Of these 800, about 300 may survive intact or in a form that would allow them to be reconstructed, and of these David Pinto has listed about 100 consort anthems. From such a rich repertoire, only a tiny handful such as Gibbons’ ‘This is the record of John‘ or ‘See, see, the Word is incarnate‘ are at all familiar today.
After the religious upheavals of the 16th century the function of music in worship was challenged and, in the Protestant countries at least, radically changed. It could no longer be a mystical and other-worldly background to ritual, where complex polyphony could enhance the ‘beauty of holiness’, while remaining incomprehensible to the ordinary worshipper. Instead, where it was allowed at all, its function was to be essentially an extension of the sermon – expounding the Word of God, and using all the arts of persuasion to do that most effectively. Verse anthems fulfilled this Reformation ideal perfectly, with the solo voice taking the role of preacher, plainly and powerfully giving out the text as if from the pulpit, and the chorus as congregation, affirming their assent and acceptance of the message.
The consort anthem, where the voices are supported and accompanied by instruments – most suitably viols – would typically have been used in the domestic worship of households where viol music was practised, as well as establishments like the Chapel Royal, where the boys were taught to play the viol along with their other musical training.
By far the greater part of the day was spent on just two works, both appropriate for Easter; Byrd’s ‘Christ Rising – Christ is risen again‘ and Gibbons’ ‘We praise thee, O Father‘. The Byrd (which incidentally can be heard on Youtube in a wonderfully vigorous performance complete with ‘authentic’ pronunciation by Red Byrd and the Rose Consort) is a glorious early example in six parts, from ‘Songs of Sundrie Natures’ of 1589. The text is the introductory anthem for Easter Day from the 1559 Book of Common Prayer. Its second part, ‘Christ is risen again, the first fruits of them that sleep‘, bursts away from the Common Time first part into even more exuberant joy in 6/2 – a Galliard no less! – and within that there is even more sprightly syncopation before broadening out into the Amen. This piece alternates between two solo ‘Mean’ voices, and Chorus, and is full of examples of word-painting and rhetoric, from the opening rising major thirds, fourths and fifths of ‘Christ rising‘ – obvious perhaps, but still very effective – to the placing of important chorus, block harmony declarations of words such as ‘Death’ on the syncopated ‘off-beats’. Because timing was expressed through the ‘Tactus’ the alternating down- and up-beats of the hand, any note which is deliberately placed after a short rest on the Tactus itself is inevitably emphasised.
The Gibbons piece, ‘We Praise thee O Father‘, is smoothly mellifluous and also more complex, being basically in five parts, but with divisi sections and solo Alto, Tenor, Bass and Treble (Mean) voices, going to six parts in Chorus sections. It too has a ‘galliard-time’ section, though less exuberant and syncopated than the Byrd.
In both the pieces, Bill stressed the rhetorical devices used, and pointed out their musical implications; repetition of a short phrase, for increased emphasis (anaphora? – as a one-time Classics student I should know these technical terms!) demanding greater intensity on the repetition. He drew our attention to the colouring of emotionally important words by setting them to notes which would be sung to ‘Fa’ – these may be flattened accidentals or any note a semitone above the note before – and he mentioned the book ‘The Performance of 16th Century Music’ by flautist Anne Smith, which deals specifically with this issue. I had already come across these ideas as a renaissance flute player (‘Fa’ usually comes on ‘fork’ fingerings, and always needs special colouring) so was particularly interested.
An issue with this repertoire is pitch: leaving aside the question of what the late 16th century pitch standard may have been, these pieces were intended for all-male groups of singers. The Gibbons piece is scored for ‘Mean’, two ‘Contratenor’, Tenor and Bass voices, and the Byrd has a Contratenor part too, and typically these go too low for modern female altos, being more suitable for a high tenor, while the Mean parts are also a little low for sopranos, so modern editions have usually presented the music transposed up. Bill asked the indulgence of his singers to try singing at original pitch, which they gamely did, but he also presented editions one tone higher, which worked better. We viol players were glad that parts were provided (with words, of course) and we didn’t have to do the mental gymnastics of pretending we were playing a different size viol in a different clef – devices that can sometimes be useful when transposing! I found the day altogether fascinating, and the music wonderful – no exaggeration to say quite deeply spiritually moving and uplifting in places, and I enjoyed playing bass viol, which I rarely do.
At the AGM, held in the lunch break, there was some discussion of how NWEMF workshops could be more widely publicised and younger participants encouraged to come. I certainly finished the day wishing I had told several people I know about it, and encouraged them to come. They would need to be reasonably competent sight-singers, but some members of an ‘occasional’ village church choir I help direct, as well as local choral society singers would surely have been as inspired by the music as the rest of us, though not being Early Music specialists they have never even heard of NWEMF.
Altogether a very special day, and one which Pat would have enjoyed hugely.
Philip Gruar
First published in June 2015 Newsletter
