Rowan Atkinson narrator
Choir of The Queen’s College, Oxford
Britten Sinfonia
SIGNUM CLASSICS SIGCD917
I imagine that for a lot of our members this issue, with its headline title That Sweet City, will be self-recommending. The fact that it is also an outstanding recording in every respect must be an additional attraction.
Kenneth Leighton actually, and perhaps confusingly, wrote two pieces with the title Veris Gratia (‘True Grace’). Opus 6 recorded here is scored for Flute, Choir, String Orchestra and timpani, while opus 9 is scored for oboe, cello and strings. There is some sharing of material, but this is not significant. Both were written when he was a student at Oxford, enthralled by the music of Finzi and the pastoral elements of VW’s style, and thus, before his output became more stringent (albeit just as engrossing).
The text of 0p.6 derives from the Carmina Burana via Helen Waddell’s well-known Medieval Latin Lyrics. Even at this early stage of his career Leighton was quite clearly an accomplished composer of the first rank. Owen Rees and his forces project the music with assured vigour and liveliness, and the fresh-voiced choir are a real treat to hear.
Though VW was a Cambridge man he loved Oxford almost equally, and thus paid homage with his entrancing Oxford Elegy. I suspect that many of us will have lived with, and loved, the Willcocks recording which dates from as far back as 1968 (but is still available!)
Apart from any other qualities this earlier recording has, the masterly contribution of the speaker, John Westbrook, remains venerated, so how does Rowan Atkinson fare in this, for him, unusual capacity? In fact, his rendition could hardly be more different inasmuch as he is quite closely, softly, miked and thus his vital contribution is far more intimate and confidential. I liked this a lot, the only issue being that on occasion the music obscures his words. Listeners who follow Matthew Arnold’s evocative text as the music plays will not mind this, for sure.
The performance is marked by extreme tenderness and sensitivity, beautifully articulated by all concerned. Here the exquisite final stanza comes over as almost unbearably poignant and leaves me, I have to admit, moist eyed.
Review by Geoffrey Atkinson