Herbert Howells. Sine Nomine. Ikon. David Hill, conductor. Hyperion CDA68476. Total time: 65:50.
DIGITAL REVIEW — Hymnus Paradisi, Missa Sabrinensis, An English Mass. These large-scale sacred choral-orchestral works are what usually come to mind at the mention of British composer Herbert Howells (1892-1983). Conductor David Hill seems determined to change that automatic association. His album Sine Nomine, with the vocal ensemble Ikon and a handful of instrumentalists, offers a taste of Howells that few have had a chance to try.
This is a collection of little-known, shorter small-group vocal works by Howells. The longest piece, the title track, is just over 12 minutes; most are much shorter. Even Howells’ own reduced forces on a few songs are further shrunken in new arrangements by pianist Iain Farrington. And none of the works is sacred. The closest to a religious piece is Sine nomine itself, whose only text is the word “Ora” (Latin for “Pray”) — otherwise it is vocalise.
Tenor Ruairi Bowen opens the title work on the syllable “Ah,” his gentle voice blending with the lower register of Charlie Lovell-Jones’ violin and Farrington’s piano chords. Soprano Hilary Cronin’s “Ah” seems to grow organically from that mix. It’s a swooping, constantly expressive piece, very much of its time (1922). Howell originally wrote it for two soloists, SATB chorus, and orchestra. Farrington has replaced the orchestra with piano and solo violin, while reducing the chorus to two on a part. This change in no way reduces the work’s enveloping sound, but only clarifies its textures.
The album opens with another Farrington arrangement. “King David” (1919) was composed for chorus, cello, and piano; Howells himself then created a version for solo voice and piano; Farrington has restored the original divisi SATB voicing with just piano. It’s a setting of a poem by Walter de la Mare (1883-1956) telling of how the biblical king was finally cured of his sorrow by a nightingale’s song. The small chorus makes a haunting, ethereal sound evoking King David’s chronic melancholy.
The song choices here illustrate Howell’s wide range of poetic interest, which will probably be news to most listeners. The oldest source is the anonymous Medieval text “A Maid peerless,” set in 1931 for women’s voices and small orchestra. Farrington has kept the voicing but replaced the orchestra with piano. This slow, meditative work is a particularly fine example of Howells’ contrapuntal skills, the result of the composer’s training at Westminster Cathedral, co-editing with Richard Runciman Terry some volumes of late-Renaissance English masters.
Howells blends Renaissance-influenced counterpoint with words of that time in “In Youth Is Pleasure” (1915), using a poem by 16th-century writer Robert Wever. The fragmented text passed from voice to voice; the contrasting textures of individual lines and four-voiced polyphony; the constantly churning harmonic motion that rarely settles on a single key — all of these harken back to the likes of William Byrd and Thomas Tallis.
In a style less sparkling and more somber, Howells sets an early 20th-century poem by Seumas O’Sullivan, “The Shadows” (1923). James Micklethwaite takes a heartfelt tenor solo in this text comparing nature’s beauty at twilight in the countryside to the aging of a man. Employing dissonances as coloration like a painter adding lighter flecks to the surface of a lake, Howells effectively draws a contrast between the purity of the solo sound and the richness of the choir.
The ensemble known as Ikon isn’t a permanent, regularly rehearsing and concertizing group. Instead, it is described by its promoters as “the UK’s foremost singers brought together to form one superchoir.” The booklet lists 21 names, although not all of them sing on all tracks. They’ve been working with Hill for a couple of decades and have made a handful of recordings, including a 2022 performance of two works by Richard Blackford with the Britten Sinfonia for the first and the combined forces of the Bach Choir and the Philharmonia Orchestra for the other. Ikon and Hill have also made a couple of worthy Christmas albums.
“Supergroup” may be just a publicity term, but there’s no denying that Ikon is made up of highly skilled, musically sensitive singers with rhythmic and dynamic precision supporting a clear, beautifully crafted sound. In big-emotion works like Howells’, it’s easy for a choir to get a bit shouty as the intensity grows, but that never happens here. Much credit goes to Hill’s elegant guidance: Big never turns into frantic, yet he doesn’t have his singers hold back. A nod, also, to producer Andrew Walton and engineer Deboral Spanton, who captured the natural acoustics of St. George’s at Headstone, Harrow.
