Resonemus laudibus – “Let our praises resound” – is a 14th-century Christmas carol of which The Sixteen sang three different arrangements in the most thrilling carol service I’ve ever heard.
This superb ensemble started out 50 years ago as a group of 16 friends who just liked to sing. But in the field of unaccompanied vocal polyphony, they and their founder-director Harry Christophers are now the world’s unchallenged brand leaders.
Drawing on carols from every corner of Europe plus medieval England and Ireland, they wove a stunningly varied tapestry. From the dark beauty of a carol by Byrd, to the village charm of “Gabriel’s Message”, to the intricacy of Palestrina’s Christmas Mass, the works came like a string of jewels, illustrating the wonderful fecundity of Europe’s amateur traditions, as well as the magnificence attained by its professional masters.
Stile Antico are younger but had a similar genesis – as a bunch of Oxbridge graduates who liked to meet in vacations and sing – and they, too, now enjoy global stardom. The term stile antico simply denotes the polyphonic style of Renaissance vocal music performed without a conductor, and their repertoire has some overlap with that of The Sixteen.
Stile Antico’s Wigmore concert was cast in the form of the Nativity story, and started with a piece of plainchant sung by an unseen tenor and took in Palestrina, Monteverdi and Byrd along the way. They climaxed with a six-part motet by John Sheppard, a 16th-century English composer whose wonderful music these days is largely forgotten.
Their sound ranged from intimate tenderness to massive communal power, and they took it in turns to step forward and introduce the music: it all felt like a party.
Meanwhile Solomon’s Knot, the vocal and instrumental ensemble who have just embarked on a residency at the Wigmore, delivered two Bach cantatas with passionate intensity.
Their name – historically known as “Solomon’s seal”, and often found on Roman mosaics – indicates a mysterious pattern of interlinked loops and it perfectly suited the intricacy of the music they performed.
Baroque virtuosity seldom comes in as brilliant a form as here, with voices and instruments interlaced, accompanying or echoing each other. Almost everyone on stage – both singers and instrumentalists – had their moment as a soloist, and three voices stood out: Alex Ashworth’s thundering bass, and Thomas Herford and Andrew Tortise, two vividly contrasting tenors.
All these groups tour, so wherever you live, each may make a pit-stop near you. They are each in their different way first-class, blending emotional intensity with the easy professionalism of their musicianship. And if I had to choose one, it would be The Sixteen.