Prom 75 Monteverdi Vespers

Prom 75, Monteverdi Vespers (1610),

Monteverdi Choir
London Oratory Junior Choir
Schola Cantorum of The Cardinal Vaughan Memorial School
English Baroque Soloists
His Majestys Sagbutts and Cornetts
Sir John Eliot Gardiner conductor,

Radio 3, September 10

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It's hardly for me to find fault with John Eliot Gardner on the subject of Monteverdi and listening to this latest account of the Vespers on the radio rather than in the Albert Hall might not have had the same stupendous effect. But I have seen it at the Proms, with the King's Consort and Carolyn Sampson and others a few years ago, and in a still sumptuous performance in Portsmouth Cathedral more recently as well as the recordings I have of it, so despite the rapturous reception it received on the next to last night of the Proms, I did have reservations.

It was, I'm sure, as they say, Monteverdi's calling card, job application and portfolio of his compositional talents and so it might well have been intended as the bright, showy concert piece it was here, taken as quickly, it seemed to me sometimes, as decency might allow, and no doubt filling the hall with a jubilant grandeur.

But, not being a religious person myself, I like a bit of solemnity when it comes to sacred music whether it was intended as a concert performance or an act of devotion. It's one of the places I hope to get the glimpse of the heaven I'm never going to see properly for myself. And, honestly, I don't imagine many church services these days using the Vespers of 1610 as one of the hymns, if it ever was. One can take this music in a more luxurious, sensual and sedate mood than this seemed to be and gain more from its langours and passion than treat it like a virtuoso concerto.

The school choir will have had the experience of a lifetime performing this in such a setting and all good luck to them but they were junior voices, drilled to the moment in every detail but sounded young when a profounder maturity might have been of more benefit than well-trained innocence.

Of course, one sometimes prefers what one is used to and my Taverner Consort CD with Andrew Parrott is what I return to now that it is so much trouble to get the boxed set LP's out and see if the record player still works. But I hope I'm not becoming so narrow-minded that one reading of a work will do. I took my chess rating up by about 50 points during this concert so I'm very grateful to it and replaying it over the weekend on BBC TV i-player will hopefully reveal greater glory in the visual effects. As one of the very cornerstones of my hit parade of all-time favourite things in any genre, you never get such a thing as a bad Monteverdi Vespers, not the 1610 set anyway, in the same way that almost any Hamlet will have something to offer, even if it's only the words. But this was Gardner, who first heard the piece at the age of 11 and formed the Monteverdi Choir at University to perform it, so one expects something tremendous, and expectation has ruined things before.

And, yes, it was fantastic really, glittering, shiny and gorgeous in the places where it is supposed to be. But what's the point of saying that if one can tilt at windmills and suggest that one knows better than the world's leading authority on the subject. It is one of the achievements of civilisation and, if you take away any possible devotional meaning, an unexplainable glory that is deeply moving and wonderful for its own sake.