A Monk’s Life. Brabant Ensemble; Stephen Rice, conductor. Hyperion (CDA68447). Total time: 72 min.
DIGITAL REVIEW — There are two ways to listen to the Brabant Ensemble’s new recording, A Monk’s Life, both of which are highly satisfying. First, you can simply soak up the sounds of a top-notch vocal ensemble singing polyphony of the mid to late 16th century. Alternatively, you can follow the printed program and librettos, turning the 30 tracks into an intriguing biography of a nameless monk in late-Renaissance Germany.
As scholar Barbara Eichner points out in her fascinating booklet essay, being a monk just after the Reformation was no easy task. The Catholic Church had had its deep-seated flaws pointed out to the world by Martin Luther, so a new seriousness and asceticism flavored the day-to-day routine in a monastery. This album uses music of post-Reformation Germany and environs to sketch out the experience of a young novitiate as he adjusts to the monkish existence.
This is not to say that the music is ascetic. Quite the contrary: The period in question is one of history’s high points for sacred polyphony. The monks’ music was as rich as their earthly life was (supposed to be) plain. Indeed, conductor Stephen Rice and the Brabant conjure up a glorious environment for worship. As the most famous example, there are several pieces by Orlande de Lassus, a Low Countries composer famed for the emotional impact of his polyphonic text-setting.
Most of the works are by lesser-known composers. Rice and Eichner co-created singing editions from original manuscripts and historical printed sources. To tell the generic monk’s story, the pieces are arranged into chapters. The first chapter is “Entering Monastic Life,” which opens with Lassus’ stunning six-voice setting of “Sponsa Dei,” whose text affirms the worshippers’ dedication to the Virgin Mary.
The second chapter, “Vespers,” includes a nine-minute Magnificat by Carolus Andreae, its text split into six miniature movements. Also known as Karl Endres, this German composer was himself a Benedictine monk. He alternates lines of text between Gregorian chant and soaring counterpoint that rings magnificently against the interior surfaces of the Westminster Chapel at Oxford Brookes University, where this recording was made. Matthew Bennett’s sound production prevents the reverberation from taking over, so the text is always clear.
While mealtime might not have been the gluttonous feasting of the pre-Reformation monastery, there was gratitude for the food on offer. For the chapter called “Eating and Drinking in the Monastery,” Rice chose “Agimus tibi gratias” (We give you thanks) by Cipriano de Rore, better known for his secular madrigals. And, acknowledging that spirits can lift even the most devout soul, Giovanni Giacomo Gastoldi’s rousing “Wer wollt den Wein nit lieben” — the only lyrics in a vernacular language — asks who could possibly not love wine.
An entire Mass by Lassus is included in the chapter called “Celebrating the First Mass”; the polyphonic movements of his Missa super Veni in hortum meum (a mass setting based on one of Lassus’ own motets) are interrupted by a gradual by Jacob Regnart on the text of Psalm 36, exhorting the faithful not to admire those who do evil. Presumably that would have been an important reminder for monks trying to behave themselves under the new, tighter strictures.
Someone has to lead a monastery, and apparently our friendly monk gets a promotion in the chapter called “Becoming Abbot.” One item is a double-texted motet by Johannes Nucius. The Brabant’s ensemble work is particularly impressive in this rhythmically complex piece.
“Death and Reception into Heaven” is the final chapter, of course. “In te Domini speravi” (I trust in you, Lord) is the text set by Flemish composer Jacobus Clemens non Papa, while the Austrian priest-composer Sebastian Ertel offers a spectacular eight-voiced motet, “Aeterna laudanda choro,” encouraging our monk to join the eternal choir as he shuffles off this mortal coil.
The concept of the album is creative and compelling. In that context, however, it is a bit odd to hear female voices as half of the 10-member ensemble. True, in the early Middle Ages, monks and nuns sometimes lived and worked as neighbors in so-called double monasteries, but such communities were well out of fashion by the late Renaissance. So, maybe, once you’ve read through the booklet, it’s best not to get too embroiled in the historical aspect and instead allow yourself to be transported simply by the beauty of the music and its performance.
