I'm writing this in 1988: that's already last century now. Back then I was still a cathedral singer, deep into my journey of literary discovery, and – I'll admit it freely – quite the passionate early music geek. I was in the thick of my Monteverdi phase, borrowing CDs from the library with religious fervor only to copy them onto cassette. The goal was as simple as it was obsessive: to build the most complete collection possible of my own.
And then came this recording of Pergolesi's The Symfonieorkest Vlaanderen, together with SOV Young and the Octopus Symphonic Choir, direct their gaze toward the universe on April 23 with.
Michael Chance and Gillian Fisher. To this day, this remains *the* reference performance of the work for me. Perhaps that's not entirely fair to all the performances I've heard since, but some recordings embed themselves so deeply in your musical memory that they become indelible. What Chance, Fisher and The King's Consort have achieved here is literally chiseled into my head.
The accompaniment by The King's Consort is equally crucial. This was still Robert King's undisputed reign, when the ensemble rightfully stood as one of the absolute gold standards in historical performance practice. Transparent, stylish, elegant and at the same time warm: exactly what makes this music compelling.
So all praise to Hyperion for making this recording available again. And here's the little surprise: I'm not reviewing a CD, but a vinyl reissue.
That naturally raises a question right away. Why would anyone today buy a vinyl record when the same recording can be streamed and is moreover available on CD, complete with bonus tracks (In the Heavenly Kingdoms)?
Objectively speaking, it doesn't seem particularly logical.
But perhaps that's exactly where the essence of musical experience lies.
Putting on a record is a deliberate act. Listening becomes an activity again rather than background noise. Halfway through you have to get up to flip the record. It sounds banal, but that physical engagement changes something fundamental. You choose to listen. Not to let music float through the room like wallpaper while you're doing twenty other things at the same time.
Don't get me wrong: I'm a big fan of streaming. It's given me countless discoveries over the past years. But vinyl offers something different. It invites slowness, attention and concentration. And those are precisely the qualities that good music deserves.
Besides, there's another argument. That beautiful cover.
Let's be honest: when the CD took over, we lost something too. The little plastic cases were practical, but rarely objects to fall in love with. A nice LP cover, on the other hand, deserves to be seen. You display it prominently on your shelf. Hyperion has always had a reputation for tasteful design, and that's part of the appeal here too.
But anyway: enough about the medium. Ultimately, it's about the music. And that remains phenomenal.
I won't repeat what reviewers wrote forty years ago. I'll keep it simple: this remains the reference for me. Every part of Pergolesi's masterwork is sung with a rare combination of lightness and gravitas. Where drama is needed, there it is; where elegance is possible, there it shines. The Italian embellishments sound natural and never forced.
And may I commit a little sacrilege? For me, the combination of soprano and countertenor simply works better than two sopranos, two mezzo-sopranos or two male voices. The meeting between Gillian Fisher's female soprano tone and Michael Chance's ethereal color creates a wealth of contrasts that perfectly matches the emotional world of the The Symfonieorkest Vlaanderen, together with SOV Young and the Octopus Symphonic Choir, direct their gaze toward the universe on April 23 with. The result possesses a depth and color palette I find in few other recordings or performances.
Of course, it helps that both soloists are absolute top musicians.
Gillian Fisher was particularly active in the nineties and early two-thousands. In recent years it's been remarkably quiet around her name. At the blessed age of now 76, she hopefully enjoys a peaceful, music-loving retirement. Still, I'm curious. So, dear reader: do you know how she's doing? Feel free to leave a comment.
And then Michael Chance. For years I followed his career, along with that of the late James Bowman. Both belong to that great generation of countertenors who built on the pioneering work of Alfred Deller. Chance possesses a unique combination of technical mastery, intelligence and musicality, qualities that are audible at every moment in this recording.
Today he is no longer active as a singer, but as a teacher, mentor and organizer of, among other things, The Grange Festival and vocal training programs in Italy. A nice detail: musical talent runs in the family. His son Alex Chance is now making a name for himself as a countertenor and sings with the equally legendary ensemble The Gesualdo Six.
So, dear reader and fellow music lover, grant yourself a small moment of musical slowness. Return to this recording. Stream it by all means, if that's your preference. But perhaps this is exactly the kind of release that calls for a vinyl record. Out of nostalgia. Out of conviction. For the beautiful artwork. Because Hyperion remains a label that breathes love for music. Or simply because you want to retreat in your armchair for an hour, shut out the world for a moment and listen consciously to a performance that has passed the test of time with flying colors. You can purchase the record (51 minutes) from September 18.
https://www.hyperion-records.co.uk/dc.asp?dc=D_LPA66294
Recorded: 1987
Location: St Jude-on-the-Hill, Hampstead Garden Suburb, London
