Reviews of Recordings

The Times, March 30, 2007
Geoff Brown

For 17th-century English music at its most adventurous, the composer William Lawes remains the first port of call. But Jenkins, his long-lived contemporary, might be the connoisseur’s choice, and he couldn’t have better advocates than the viol group Phantasm. Here, beautifully recorded, are his five-part consorts: music of piquant melodies, alarming harmonies and shifting metres that grow more potent with each hearing.

The Telegraph, April 21, 2007
Elizabeth Roche

Classical CDs of the week

"Sensuous" is not perhaps the word that comes most readily to mind in connection with the viol consort, but Phantasm's richly satisfying sound fully justifies its use in the booklet accompanying this delectable disc. Their superb playing, combined with the fascinating excellence of Jenkins's music, should banish any suggestion that the consort repertoire is an acquired and specialised taste.

The 17 fantasias recorded here display an amazing wealth of imagination, invention and ingenuity. Each has its own distinctive character, some of them, such as No 15, reflecting Jenkins's enjoyment of complex rhythmic puzzles, while others, such as No 4 with its intriguingly distant modulations, show his equal enjoyment of harmonic exploration.

Rapid changes of mood and style, from playfully lightfooted to deeply tragic, can produce an almost kaleidoscopic effect, as in No 10, whose busily contrapuntal and slightly sinister opening is interrupted by a scrap of dance-like triple time, followed by a slow reflective passage.

Phantasm's purposeful, clear-textured and sensitive performances leave no room for doubt that Jenkins is one of this country's greatest 17th-century composers.

Classic FM
John Brunning

Superb playing from one of the finest Baroque Quartets around; these performance make the music of John Jenkins sound as relevant today as they were in the 17th Century.

Fanfare
Brian Robins

Phantasm’s performances of the 6-part viol consorts of John Jenkins (1592-1678) were the subject of a feature review and interview with director Laurence Dreyfus in Fanfare 30:2. At the end of the review, I noted with satisfaction that Phantasm was about to record the companion 5-part consorts. Well, here they are after only a relatively short time. In his note with the new disc – a characteristic combination of enlightened scholarship and overflowing enthusiasm – Dreyfus suggests that even more than the 4- and 6-part works, the 5-part consorts find Jenkins at the height of his compositional powers. He cites particularly the way in which Jenkins teases both player and listener with his obsession with displaced accents set against the prevailing beat, the most extreme example being Fantasy 15. Here Jenkins starts with an extrovert folk-dance – Dreyfus calls it a country fiddle tune – that develops into a near-anarchic riot of subversive rhythmic chaos. Jenkins is frequently described as a conservative composer, but there is absolutely nothing conservative about this music.

As with the 6-part fantasies, their counterparts here are all through-composed, but generally pass through several clearly defined sections, the mood of the opening frequently returning for the final episode. Just occasionally, a single mood will prevail throughout. This occurs in shorter, major mode pieces such as No. 1 or No. 16, the latter thrusting ever forward with a playful exuberance where one senses the composer delighting in the contrapuntal interplay between the instruments. Neither are Jenkins’s surprises restricted to rhythm. No. 9, for example, opens with one of the composer’s favorite three-note mottos before three times introducing a striking modulation we expect to lead us to slower moving music. Only on the third occasion is this finally achieved, with a commensurate move to a more serious vein. For sheer variety of mood, Fantasia 7, the longest, is exceptional. It opens with slow moving, dark-hued music that reminds us of Jenkins’s love of rich sonorities, its development gradually entering brighter territory and seemingly expanding naturally like an unfurling flower. Then comes a passage of imitative polyphony, in itself contrasted with a sustained homophonic passage of great harmonic beauty. Finally, a lively galliard-like passage leads to a few bars return of the opening mood. All this has been achieved in a fraction over four minutes.

Not all is as immediately compelling. At times one senses the mastery of counterpoint, deployed over a relatively small gamut, takes precedence over melodic interest. This can sometimes leave the listener flailing for an aural lifejacket, something to grasp, as I found with Fantasy 12. But for relief at such times we can always turn to the three pavans, which like their 6-part relatives introduce us to a calmer, less contrapuntal world in which expressivity takes precedence, one that often probes the vein of melancholy never far from the surface in 17th-century English music.
As with the earlier recording, Dreyfus has chosen to omit the organ part, a possibly controversial decision for which he put up a strongly argued case in the interview; I can only say that it does not worry me any more than it did with the previous disc. Otherwise there is nothing controversial about performances that are executed with such technical skill, such spontaneity, the sense of responding to each moment in the music’s course that is such a feature of all Phantasm’s performances. Here one need only listen to the calm luminescence achieved in the opening of Fantasia 17, or the thrusting sturdiness of Fantasia 3 to be aware that they are truly masters of all they survey. The sound is of the best kind: so natural and unobtrusive that you don’t even think about it. At present there is no competition for the complete 5-part consorts, so the disc is self- recommending. Those who would like to try a different approach, or would prefer a cross-section of Jenkins’s consort works are reminded of the discs of Fretwork (not reviewed), or the Ensemble Jérôme Hanaï (28:5). But no real enthusiast will pass on this.

The Irish Times, April 13 2007
Michael Dervan

Laurence Dreyfus, the founder of the viol consort Phantasm, sees John Jenkins (1592-1678) as a relentless explorer, a man daring to venture into harmonic territory that would remain largely unexplored for centuries. He has learnt, says Dreyfus, "to transpose himself and his listeners to exotic locations without standing in wearying queues or undergoing tiresome security checks". Dreyfus's sleevenote provides an insider's colourful view of Jenkins's excursions, some of which are daring enough to take the floor from under your feet, musically speaking. The best way to know this music is to play it. Phantasm's lucidly balanced, cogently demonstrative performances have an intimacy that easily outclasses most public concert experiences of this complex yet ravishing music.
*****

http://www.ireland.com/theticket/articles/2007/0413/1176157006765.html

Early Music Forum of Scotland New
James Ross

Under the auspices of the enterprising recording label Avie, Phantasm continue their intriguing and revelatory survey of the viol consort music of 17th-century England. Over the years and a succession of lovely CDs I have praised Phantasm's manual dexterity, their musicality, their faultless ensemble, their ringing tone and their choice of fabulous repertoire. These virtues all apply to this recording too, and the music of Jenkins takes us on a thoroughly rewarding harmonic and melodic mystery tour. There are more subtle harmonic and melodic nuances in each of these small pieces than in an entire i-pod full of pop songs or a complete Eurovision Song Contest, andthe mind is set to speculating the extent to which political and social insecurity led to the fluid and unsettled harmonies and passing dissonances so characteristic of 17th-century English music. This is viol playing at its finest, and the CD is an absolute delight.

Independent, The (London), June 2, 2007
Michael Church

Album of the Week

Phantasm, the award-winning consort of viols, return to this wonderful Elizabethan composer with a collection of his five-part inventions. The sound of these instruments has a bleached purity quite unlike that of the violin and cello, and the music is at once sensuous and extraordinarily inventive. Jenkins is both startlingly experimental and smooth.

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Daily Mail, December 29, 2006
Tully Potter

Celestial harmonies: top classical albums of 2006 ****

Cast aside any prejudices you might have about 'early music' and try these amazing viol pieces by John Jenkins (1592-1678). Born in Maidstone, he was mainly active in East Anglia, and one can imagine that he was a welcome guest in the great houses where a 'chest of viols' was part of the furniture. These works in six astonishingly equal parts were written for amateurs but respond well to the highly professional musicians of Phantasm, led by the American Laurence Dreyfus. This is the kind of playing that banishes any thought of dry and dusty antiquarian professors. The four members of Phantasm and their guests hold the interest with lively interchanges.

You have the feeling that you are eavesdropping on six friends who are indulging in viol consorts for their own enjoyment. The recordings are splendidly alive, too.

Goldberg 2006
Brian Robins

The long life of John Jenkins (1592-1678) spans an era that witnessed the greatest achievements of the English viol consort composers. His outstanding contribution to this repertoire was substantial, including as it does works that conform to the strictly contrapuntal style of his predecessors in addition to those that admitted to newer, Italianate trends.

The 12 fantasies, two In nomines and two pavans included here belong firmly in the former category. In a characteristically entertaining note, Phantasm’s director Laurence Dreyfus makes that the point that this is not, as is sometimes suggested, music for amateurs, the contrapuntal writing demanding equal facility and technique in all six parts.

For the same reason, the often-dense counterpoint means that neither is it music for idle listening. Yet for the attentive listener it makes for a highly rewarding experience, since Jenkins’ writing is crafted with the utmost skill and is never formulaic. Dreyfus cites Fantasia 5 as an obvious example, but one might equally note that Fantasia 1 moves from a mood of playfulness and syncopated dance rhythms to one of austere gravity. Those unfamiliar with the music might turn first to the two pavans, particularly the one in F, a relatively familiar piece with a lovely opening strain that taps into that peculiarly English vein of melancholy.

The performances are throughout beautifully judged, sensing unerringly the rises and falls of tension – listen, for example, to the superb build-up and release the players achieve in In Nomine 2. This is a magnificent recording.

Early Music, Vol. XXXV, No. 1
Lucy Robinson

The 21st century sees the market for early music saturated to a point where it is often no longer viable to offer straightforward recordings of early repertory. To make their mark artists must attract attention in other ways, and the degree of creative fantasy seems on the increase. The CDs reviewed here neatly capture this range, from the conventional to the downright eccentric.

As Roger North reports, John Jenkins (1592–1678) ‘had a very great hand on the consort viol’ and with this consort experience came a thorough understanding of the potential of weaving intricate counterpoint for six viols. His six-part consort music (12 Fantasies, two In Nomines and two Pavans) presents a substantial technical test to all six players, in which the frequently energetic, muscular themes are shared equally among the violists, presenting a lively challenge for the overall ensemble. Phantasm's ensemble on their new recording Jenkins: Six-part consorts (Avie AV 2009, rec 2005, 66') is faultless, and each work is beautifully conceived as a whole with wonderful musical intelligence and clarity. Take, for example, Jenkins' Fantasy no.5, which opens with an extended meditation on Dowland's Lacrimae verae until disturbed by a spirited dance played with splendidly earthy crispness; this gives way to an elegant Almain which is quickly interrupted by an unusual figure based on 3rds, aptly described in Laurence Dreyfus's liner notes as like entering ‘a room crammed with tick-tocking clocks’. The composition concludes broadly, moving through some delicious passing modulations, notably from B major to G major—which Phantasm shapes most lovingly, before concluding with a plagal cadence in D. North hints how Jenkins embraced a wide spectrum of emotions in his own performance, playing with ‘wonderful agility, and odd humours’; this is fittingly matched by Phantasm's professed enjoyment in ‘taking risks in its search for renditions that renew the expressive traditions of early music’.

Independent on Sunday
Anna Picard

* * * * *

The stocky figures that announce John Jenkins’ six-part Fantasies and In nomines give little warning of the variety that each work contains. Written when English polyphony was losing ground to Italian style, Jenkins’ Consorts blend the operatic emotions of the latter with the discursive complexities of the former. A richer portrait of early 17-century England is hard to imagine. Rustic characters jostle for dominance, lovers languish, and alchemists debate. From the sombre to the carefree, Phantasm have given each personality a distinctive voice and each work an absorbing narrative.

Gramophone August 2006
Fabrice Fitch

Music of refinement and subtlety cast in an exciting new light

His discography may not be extensive, perhaps, but in terms of quality John Jenkins has been remarkably well served on disc, first by Fretwork (Virgin) and more recently by the Ensemble Jérôme Hantai (Naïve). His msic makes enough demands on players to be more than a match for all but the most intrepid consorts. On that count Phantasm have few worries, though as with the previous recordings, there is the odd moment to remind one that these superlative musicians, too, may find themselves taxed. Never mind; the real interest in this recording lies in the different approach Phantasm bring to this music. The slightly languid, Carolinian reserve one so associates with the repertory is replaced by a more incisive, top-down approach, with sharper attacks and more forthright articulation.
This brings the viol consort nearer to the sound and feel of the string quartet than it has ever been on disc. Whether this reflects what a viol consort is ‘about’ is a moot point, but to hear music of this refinement and subtlety in a new light is exciting. Of the three anthologies mentioned, Phantasm’s is most focused on the six-part consorts; Fretwork’s and Hantai’s programmes are rather more varied. Phantasm do their formidable reputation no harm here; if they coax listeners into snapping up more of this music, they have done right by Jenkins, too.

The Times, May 16, 2006
Geoff Brown

Not one-fell-swoop listening, but if you don’t hear Jenkins’s 17th-century viol consort pieces at all you're missing a choice pleasure. Sixteen tracks offer six-[art fantasies, pavans, and In Nomines, all marked by long, tangling lines, quick changes, eccentric phrasings, and an emotional sate finely balanced between exuberance and menlancholy. Phantasm attack this still-neglected repertoire with passion and much-needed muscle.

BBC Music Magazine June 2006 edition

In the first of three discs devoted to the 17th-century English composer John Jenkins, Phantasm explores his six-part consorts – ‘sublime discourses’, as they were fittingly described by Jenkins’s contemporary Thomas Mace.

These works really stretch the art of consort playing to its limits, demanding at once technical bravura and an expressive palette that ranges from sombre intensity to radiant joie-de-vivre. Phantasm deserves full marks for these laudable interpretations: indeed, so harmonious is their mutual musical vision that it is hard to believe there are really six individual players at work here. Their ‘discourse’ is lucid and animated, characterised by eloquent articulation, a luminous sound and finely judged internal balance. The all-pervasive dance rhythms are brought out with a supple lightness of touch while moments of melancholy and reflection are given due weight. Jenkins couldn’t resist introducing a dash of fashionable Italianate flamboyance into these works, and treble, tenor and even bass viol constantly vie for virtuosic supremacy. Nothing daunted, these adroit players negotiate Jenkins’s detailed counterpoint with fleet-fingered dexterity, and ever more intricate elaborations are cast around with brazen panache. The results are a delicious mix of Italianate sprezzatura and English restraint. Kate Bolton

Performance * * * * *
Sound * * * *

Presto Classical
www.prestoclassical.co.uk

Phantasm plays “like angels singing.” This was the verdict of BBC World Affairs correspondent John Simpson who presented Phantasm with a 2004 Gramophone Award for its recording of Viol Consorts by Gibbons (AV0032). The ensemble continues to explore the rich sound world of the golden age of Elizabethan England with its latest release. Listening to the consorts of John Jenkins you could be forgiven for thinking they were written specially for Phantasm, each player from treble to bass viol performing virtuosic feats that are the equal of their colleagues, six voices blending together in extraordinarily sonorous counterpoint. Described in their day as “sublime discourses” and “divine raptures”, Jenkins’ consorts perfectly suit the modern-day mentality of Phantasm’s striking unity of ensemble, unmatched by any other viol ensemble playing today.

The Sunday Times, May 07, 2006

* * * *
These works — a dozen fantasies, two In nomines and two wonderful pavans — date from the 1620s, when, as Laurence Dreyfus’s erudite but colourful liner note informs us, the new Italianate style, with its lighter demands, had begun to make its influence felt in English chamber music. Yet Jenkins’s dense polyphonies sound anything but old-fashioned. He has a personal, vivid style, full of fresh ideas, strong contrasts of mood, bold harmonic excursions and luxuriant sonorities. A spirit of freedom allies itself with, rather than working against, the music’s disciplined counterpoint, and the result is enormously pleasing, especially given performances by Phantasm of such impetus and colour.

The Daily Telegraph, April 20, 2006
Elizabeth Roche

A recording consisting entirely of six-part fantasies, pavanes and In nomines by a single composer, even one of Jenkins's calibre, may not necessarily be a guaranteed best-seller. When performed by Phantasm, however, this fine programme is sure to be welcomed by anybody who relishes beautifully crafted, profoundly expressive and enjoyably characterful early instrumental music.

Their playing has a lightfooted crispness and precision which, when combined with their strong sense of rhythmic momentum, gives the complex web of six-part polyphony a remarkable clarity and transparency. This makes it easy to appreciate both Jenkins's skill in creating the tapestry of closely interweaving lines, abounding in rhythmic traps for the unwary, and the players' achievement in surmounting all difficulties with elegant ease and bringing to life the music's kaleidoscopic range of continually changing moods.

Melancholy and reflective passages have a sometimes heartbreaking eloquence which shows Phantasm's rich, glowing sound to full advantage, while livelier ones overflow with delightfully sparkling playfulness, giving each of these 16 fascinatingly varied pieces its own distinctive character.

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The Gramophone, May 2005
Mary Berry

Editors Choice

Here's a splendid follow up to last year's Gramophone Award-winning Gibbons collection. Phantasm play with the kind of sympathetic interplay that you'd expect from a crack string quartet. The programme concept is a neat one: using the idea of the four temperaments to explore the music of four composers of the 16th century. At the heart of the programme is Byrd's four-part mass, superbly done.

The sophistication suggested by the title should not deter the listener. in the first place the term 'temperament' bears no relationship here to a particular manner of tuning the major scale: it refers back to the ancient theory of the fourhumours, or bodily fluids, responsible for conditions of the body and so, by extension for personalities. Laurence Dreyfus suggests that each composer represented personifies one of these 'temperaments': Parsons the choleric, Alfonso Ferrabosco the Elder the calm phlegmatic, Tallis the sanguine, and Byrd the passionate melancholic.

Admitting, however, that personalities are far more complex than that, what this recording really demonstrates is the vast variety of colour and mood represented not only by each composer individually but also by the skill and beauty of the consort's interpretation. The stately patterning of the pavans contrasts with the sprightly tossing, by one player to another, of small melodic fragments in other pieces.

The arrangement of the programme, too, is carefully planned: pitches, sometimes even themes, follow naturally one after another. A fine example is Ferrabosco's In Nomine I, with its theme of a rising minor scale, followed by the same scale in Byrd's Sanctus. The ingenious interspresing of movements from Byrd's four -part Mass is justifiable by his description of some of his works as suitable for 'voices or viols', though the plangent descending final phrases of the Agnus Dei call for the sung text to fulfil their ultimate purpose.

The players' contribution to the painting and mixing of humours is outstanding. They bring to life the importance of the viol consort in Elizabethan society, in teaching as well as entertainment for old and young. Did Prsons have the children of the Chapel Royal in mind with his Ut re mi fa so la? Or Tallis with his Solfing Song, or in the settings of familiar tunes, both sacred - the Ferrabosco, Tallis or Parsons In nomines - and secular, for example Parsons' brilliant Song called Trumpets? For insight as well as enjoyment, this recording is highly recommended.

BBC Music Magazine, May 2005
Kate Bolton

The four 'temperaments' once belived to define human character are the starting point for this cleverly devised sequence of works by a quartet of Elizabethan composers: the 'melancholic' William Byrd, the unruly 'choleric' Robert Parsons, the 'phlegmatic' Ferrabosco the Elder and the 'sanguine' optimist Thomas Tallis. Phantasm structures the programme with an instrumental transcription of Byrd's Mass for Four Voices, interwoven with consort In nomines and framed by a sequence of dances, variations and folk-inspired numbers.

The spare, pellucid writing of Byrd's Mass translates beautifully to the weightless, delicate-sounding viols, their subtle hues and veiled colours well suited to this intensely private and introspective music. With just one instrument to a part the account has an intimacy and lyricism that choral performances often lack, while its very wordlessness is a moving reminder that such a Mass could only have been celebrated in secret by Catholic recusents. The members of Phantasm convincingly communicate the text's rhetoric and potency- to sublime effect in the Agnus Dei.

Byrd's melancholic temperament is balanced by music of exuberant high spirits and daring virtuosity, all of which is rendered with admirable panache. Musical lines are gracefully shaped and articulated, the internal balance is perfectly judged, as is the warm and detailed recorded sound.

Performance *****
Sound ****

Early Music News, April 2005
Clifford Bartlett

This has been in my CD player more than any other disc for the last few weeks. I must confess that for much of the time it has been background; picking out a few tracks each time through is porbably better than trying to concentrate from beginning to end. Even though it is music I am very fond of, I am prepared to admit that there is a certain sobriety that needs variety - and that isn't successfully provided by the occasional incursions into staccato playing to liven it up. I also feel that sometime variety of tempo between pieces is imposed for the sake of it rather than arising out of the music. but these are minor grouses compared with the marvelous playing and the skill and strength of the music itself. I used to find that the viol-consorts I played with in my middle-age (I'd better not claim youth) found pre-Jacobean music rather dull: listen to this and be converted!

Times, March 2005
Geoff Brown

The new disc of 16th century English consort music, Four Temperaments (Avie AV2054), from the excellent viol group Phantasm, deserves an uncomplicated welcome. True, some confusion is sown by the booklet's efforts at tagging each composer with one of the "humours". But music and performances are consistently superb, bathed in the kind acoustic of a Norfolk church.

Pride of place in terms of time goes to an instrumental realisation of Byrd's four-part Latin Mass - not, I feel, exactly pukka as scolarship, though an excellent way of penetrating the music's quiet anguish and rapture. But for visceral excitements, Byrd, Tallis and the senior Alfonso Ferrabosco are easily outdistanced by the four samples here of Robert Parsons, a composer who drowned in the River Trent in 1571. The music's lines become majestically entangled; cadences process without any resolution; solemn musings suddenly switch to a dance or brawl: here is the 17th century's avant-garde.

The Independent, March 2005
Andrew Clarke

Another highly enjoyable, richly rewarding disc from the viol consort Phantasm, and one that neatly sidesteps the hazards of this repertoire. By carefully selecting works from these four composers to reflect the "four temperaments" of ancient medicine, Phantasm provide a widely varied tour through English consort music that doesn't become bogged down in the melancholy.

Phantasm’s Four Temperaments: A Conversation with Laurence Dreyfus
Brian Robins

Now firmly established as the most excitingly innovative viol consort playing today, Phantasm has recently added further to the many laurels it has already garnered by picking up a Gramophone award for their disc of Gibbons consort music, a CD that included high-voltage, passionately lyrical performances that I suggested should be heard by anyone remotely interested in the music (Fanfare 28:2). That disc raised a few eyebrows by including transcriptions of some of Gibbons’s keyboard works, but that’s nothing compared to what Phantasm has done on its latest release, which includes nothing less than a complete transcription of William Byrd’s Mass for Four Voices.

This was obviously going to be a big talking point when I phoned Phantasm’s treble violist and director Laurence Dreyfus, but first I wanted to know what lay behind the disc’s intriguing title, “Four Temperaments.” Surely, Carl Nielsen hasn’t got in the act as well, I asked Dreyfus. “Well, actually I was thinking more of George Balanchine,” came back the reply amid laughter. “More seriously, I thought it would be interesting to take a classical idea that was still current in the 16th century, a way of talking about personality. Although it’s a crude measure on the one hand, the ancients already realized that it had connotations for medicine and psychology. So it seemed a valid way of focusing on the different emotional worlds of the composers featured on the disc.” I observed that the concept in fact comes over very clearly in the selection of works: the ordered or phlegmatic world of Alfonso Ferrabosco the elder contrasted with the at times choleric unruliness of Robert Parsons, whose music at times seems almost out of control. “To a certain extent, yes, but he does mange to exert control over his material, although there are times when he allows that irrationality to come to the fore with quite dazzling ‘cross-relations’ that are at times outrageously dissonant. Parsons was a great discovery, an amazing personality. He’s someone I want to explore more.”

Another work that fits in with the temperaments idea is A Solfing song a 5, the optimistic, sanguine Thomas Tallis piece with which the disc opens. It was unfamiliar to me, and I’d been unable to trace it in the New Grove worklist. I asked Dreyfus about the work. He seemed puzzled. “It’s certainly included in Musica Britannica under Tallis’s name, and I believe it has connections with a chanson text. (Since my conversation with Dreyfus, which had to take place very shortly after I received a test pressing of the CD, further investigation has revealed that the work is only attributed to Tallis, which doubtless explains its absence from the worklist.)
The inclusion of the transcription of the Byrd Mass for Four Voices, one of the great masterpieces of sacred vocal polyphony, as the centerpiece of the disc will doubtless come as a surprise to many. I asked Dreyfus to explain the motivation behind the project. “We started learning it several years ago, because it is a work I was always obsessed with, and I was fascinated to see how it would work as chamber music. It seemed to me that when the music is conducted it doesn’t always allow the independence of line to come out, and it’s such marvelous polyphony. And there are so many crossovers between the style of writing and consort music. For example, before the Sanctus we placed a Ferrabosco In nomine that begins in exactly the same way. You have this relationship between sacred vocal polyphony and consort music that is a very intimate kind of thing. You end up hearing both the consort music and the Mass differently, because Byrd applies real compositional power to trap the striking allegorical images. The fact that so much of it works as beautiful instrumental music made it for me a very spiritual way of doing it, a kind of 16th-century version of Haydn’s Seven Last Words.”

One of the most notable features of the performance is the manner in which the music seemed to take on a greater degree of lyricism than is usually the case with vocal performances. I wondered if this was just the natural effect of hearing it on viols, or whether it was part of a deliberate interpretational decision. “I suppose it might have something to do with the fact that we were of course only using one voice to a part, as opposed to the usual choral rendition, where you get such an amazing blend. But if you think about the whole 16th-century tradition, in a way it’s moving away from that fascination with gorgeous block harmony toward a very intimate style. I think this Mass is part of that movement toward intimacy, a work that was perhaps celebrated in a secret Jesuit chapel at the Petre House or something like that. There is a very real lyricism built into the music, which perhaps the viols tend to bring out.”

Another thing that intrigued me about the transcription was to wonder how conscious the players had been of the text while playing the Mass. “We had the text underlay in front of us all the time, having previously talked it through in very great detail. That applied especially to the Gloria and Credo, where you have so many contrasting worlds. It’s a fascinating text when you look at the historical references, the narrative bits, and the meditative sections. . . . While we were sitting playing it we were trying to capture that experience, allowing the words to inspire us in the same way as would be the case if you had a set of wonderful Renaissance paintings in front of you.” Such careful preparation, and textural awareness is certainly born out by the clear impression that there is a definite intensification at certain key points. I suggested to Dreyfus that the arrival of “Qui sedes” in the Gloria is an example where one is very conscious of a dramatic moment having arrived. “Absolutely. And of course, when you’re singing it you want to do something there to evoke the powerful image contained in those words.”

It is obvious from what Dreyfus had been saying that playing the transcription had proved a unique experience for the consort members. I asked if he could explain what he felt they had learned about the work playing it on viols. “Well, it was partly some very simple things, like seeing it and playing it in the original key. You can’t just use one of the existing editions, because so many are transposed for choir. And then examining the complexity of the lines, how they both look and feel like so much consort music, and then you get these crystallized moments like the C# that shows up in “Crucifixus.” It is so clear. I think what we learned is the kind of Affekt, to take a Baroque word, the kinds of image, or phantasms, if you will, that show up in the music. They help you, giving a sense of discovery that can be applied to similar gestures in other music. I think when you have a text there is a closer link to the composer’s thinking.”

In so far as I could tell, working from the Fellowes score, the performance of the Mass is an exact transcription—apart from one or two places in Agnus Dei, where it sounded as if a few long notes had been broken down into shorter repeated-note patterns. However, Dreyfus assured me that this is not the case, and that the whole performance is a literal transcription. (Needless to say, a further audition confirmed that he is quite correct.) “In fact, it was rather the opposite, because one of the things we were worried about was repeated notes that would have been tied over in consort music, but we felt we should articulate them because there was an impulse from the syllable that works in a metrical rhythmic way.”

The idea of interpolating the In nomines (a form itself originally derived from part of the text of Benedictus) between the movements of the Mass was obviously an inspired idea. As Dreyfus observed, “in liturgical use, the Mass Ordinary would never be heard in sequence. There are a variety of interpolations and the idea of going off into another instrumental world, especially one that lightens the texture, seemed to me highly appropriate.” It is indeed, and just one example of the enormous amount of dedication and thought that has so very obviously gone into this project.

Even after reading the above, there may still be those who find the idea of a viol consort performing a Mass to be a little odd, possibly even disturbing. It’s as well therefore to make the point that there is nothing intrinsically unhistorical about doing so. In the 16th century vocal polyphony, both sacred and secular, was frequently transcribed for instrumental performance, there being in fact no need to look further than Byrd himself, who in the Cantiones sacrae published jointly with Tallis in 1575 described the contents as suitable for “voices or viols.” That example, cited by Laurence Dreyfus in his notes, is just one of many where the option is clearly available.

Among a number of thought-provoking issues that came to mind in the wake of hearing this stimulating disc is that of context. When we listen to vocal performances of the Byrd Masses today, we are in fact already at a huge distance from their original performance conditions, which were almost certainly part of secretive celebrations of Mass held by small groups of recusants, ever mindful of being disturbed by Protestant servants of Elizabeth I. Not for us, as we listen in comfort in a church or at home, the ever-fearful anticipation of rude banging on the door and arrest. The point of this being, of course, that since we are already inescapably far from recreating original performance conditions, the transposition of a Mass adds only a further, new dimension.

The faithfulness of the transcription and its keen adherence to the texts clearly emerged in my conversation with Dreyfus, in the course of which I’ve already drawn attention to the manner in which key moments of rhetoric are brought out in a way that I think will not have been possible without an intimate familiarity with the text. One example has already been cited, but there are many others: the repose of “Domine Deus” (Gloria), the luminescence of the Gloria’s “Qui tollis” (one of many passages in which Byrd provides textural variety by reducing the number of parts), the quiet dignity that settles over the music in the “Ex Maria” passage of Credo, and the dramatic arrival of the ascending scalar figure at “Et resurrexit,” all of which bear eloquent witness to the sensitive awareness of the approach. The sublime Agnus Dei is a case apart, perhaps the one place one might feel controversy is being courted. It is taken at a tempo that would surely be beyond the daring of any choir or vocal ensemble (the timing is 4:07; by contrast the Tallis Scholars take 3:15, the Cardinall’s Musick, my overall first choice for the work, 3:19), yet such is the extraordinary innigkeit of the playing that reservations are swept aside.

Agnus Dei presented Dreyfus with another problem, about which he told me he had thought long and hard. As I suggested to him, the last thing one normally wants after its final, ineffable move to the light of the final tierce de Picardie is to hear any more music. Phantasm’s director agreed, but has come up with a brilliantly convincing solution in the shape of Parsons’s four-part Ut re mi fa sol la, a piece that opens with a mood that uncannily preserves that of Byrd’s Agnus, before proceeding on a course that will lead us a million miles from it.

The natural concentration here has been on the Byrd Mass, but it would be remiss not to mention at least some of the other music included to frame its performance. The Tallis (or not, as the case may be) is a delight, its flowing, confident polyphony here expressively pointed up by the playing. Byrd’s five-part Prelude and Ground based on the popular “Good night” ground bass, is a tour de force of fluctuating moods that inspires some dazzling division-playing. The originality (not to say eccentricity) of Robert Parsons was noted in the conversation, and can be heard at its most striking in the grinding bass dissonances that open A Song of Mr. Robert Parsons (surely a wry title?). It’s exciting music that suits Phantasm’s intensity to a tee, and one hopes Dreyfus’s discovery of Parsons will inspire him to program more of his music; there are, for example, four more In nomines in addition to the one recorded here.

In the final analysis, the question is who will benefit from or respond to this unique treatment of Byrd’s sacred masterpiece? Not, I think, those who do not know the vocal version, unless perhaps they belong to that rather strange breed that simply does not like any form of singing. They will certainly be rewarded by characteristically warm and emotional viol consort-playing, superbly executed. But the greatest enlightenment will surely come to those with an open mind, and real familiarity with the Mass. For them this sensitive, reverential (in the best possible meaning of the word) performance will cast new illumination on a familiar treasure. I would urge strongly all who feel they fall into this category to hear this truly remarkable disc.

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Diapason, January 2005
5 ‘Forks’ (out of 5)
Benoit Bart

Those who, on our side of the Channel, imagine the interpretation of English music by the English as a vast, featureless landscape, will find themselves greatly mistaken: professional standards apart, no groups differ more in their approach to Gibbons, the ‘Batchelor of Music, than the two leading figures of the new aristocracy of the Elizabethan viol consort, Concordia (Diapason d’or for the second volume of their complete Gibbons) and Phantasm (Diapason d’or for their Purcell Fantasies). The fascinating needlepoint woven by Concordia is answered by the fiery pleasure found in Phantasm’s music-making: vigorous attacks, chiselled cadences, heavily marked triplets, unremittingly sustained bow-strokes, and fleeting timbres all seem geared to reconcile the magnificence of the theatre and the pomp of the English court with the spontaneous intimacy of the ‘domestic’ consort – home sweet home!

Nonetheless, even if Wendy Gillespie (Treble 2) tries to tone down the excitement by sweetening the exemplary phrasing driven with precision by the ‘consort-master’ Laurence Dreyfus, the virtual dearth of ornamentation proves at times a little frustrating, and some triplet figures are frankly a bit ‘border line (Track 9, 4’30”). Yet several explanations given us by Dreyfus himself, an eminent musicologist and author of a brilliant statement of intention, are crafted with such flair and style that they furnish a splendid guide for the listener: ‘The brevity of some imitative points, such as in the middle of Fantasia IV, creates a dazzling array of lightening flashes, with each strike visible if never predictable in its location’. Or: ‘The lamenting descent meets its inverted alter ego, and from then on, rising dactyls soar upwards, creating an illusion of continuously ascending spirals which exhaust themselves only at the rapturous final cadence’.

Yet there’s the rub: in the (too) generous acoustic of the chapel of Merton College Oxford, the spirals toil to take flight under such demonstrative bowing just when Concordia amble onto the dizzy heights of illusion. But when Dreyfus and his colleagues allow their lines to calm down, as in the Silver Swan and the Pavan Lord Salisbury (transcribed by Dreyfus), we discover in the first the most tender-hearted of musics, and in the second a kindred spirit to the swoons of Dowland’s Lachrymae.

The Times, 11th September 2004
John Simpson, BBC’s world affairs editor

Music plays an important part in my life because it’s my way of finding another and better world than the one I often seem to find myself inhabiting. It creates a sort of barrier, a sort of wall separating me from the lunacy around me. If I’m in Iraq, for instance, I really want to have something around me which represents rationality and calm and beauty — and that’s what music gives me.

I’ve got very wide interests in classical music, but I suppose the music that I most enjoy is not very rational and not very calm! It’s Soviet music from the 1920s and 1930s. It’s absolutely the reverse of common sense and calm, but when I need calming, piano music by Tchaikovsky, Debussy or Ravel does the trick. I tend not to be particularly switched on by the music of the 17th and 18th centuries, except for Mozart, though I used to be.

When I first heard this disc of music for viol consort by the English composer Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625), performed by the Phantasm quartet, I was taken way back to university when I had a recording of some of these pieces. I don’t suppose I’ve listened to it in 40 years, but when I listened again — and it’s partly the performances and partly the writing — it had a purity that simply took me away from where I was and what I was doing. On Consorts for Viols the instruments are like angels’ voices. I was terribly moved by it and it’s certainly going to accompany me on my travels from now on.

I encountered it on holiday in a remote part of south-western France, in Gascony, where the internet hasn’t made much of an impact, and even making a call on a mobile requires a hunt for a signal. So when I discovered that I could get at the music by downloading it rather quicker than waiting for the CD to arrive, I thought I’d give it a try. We had a friend staying who is a Cambridge don and something of an expert in these things, so we went to magnatune.com, found the album and downloaded it to my mobile phone. I was seduced by the technology as well as the music.

I don’t have an iPod but I do have an Archos MP3 player which can carry hundreds of hours of music and I’m gradually filling it up. For example, I ripped all of Berlioz’s The Trojans in a few minutes and now I can listen to it anywhere — and still have about 78,000 other recordings. The wonderful thing is that if you suddenly find yourself on the Afghan border and nothing but a consort piece by Orlando Gibbons will do, there it is at the touch of a button.

Classics Today, July 2004
John Greene

Much has been written on this site extolling the brilliance of Orlando Gibbons' music, and this new recital by the viol consort Phantasm (celebrating its 10th anniversary) reaffirms such praise. It seems that no matter where Gibbons turned his attention--from numerous vocal settings to innovative complex keyboard works or ravishing consort music--he was a natural. Here is a selection of Fantasies and In Nomines Gibbons scored for three, four, five, and six viols, as well as an assortment of inspired transcriptions (by the group's director, Laurence Dreyfus) of some of the composer's more familiar keyboard and vocal works.

Dreyfus points out in the notes that unlike his equally celebrated contemporary William Byrd, whose consort settings remained primarily focused on exploiting tuneful popular dances of the day, Gibbons deliberately encouraged his performers to depart from those relatively safe parameters with settings intended to be performed without bar lines, resulting in often unpredictable, adventurous music making. As exemplified in the six-part first and fifth Fantasias, simple themes often evolve into richly luminous chromatic displays while singing harmonies frequently give way to irregular dissonance. And like the British ensemble Concordia (type Q2285 in Search Reviews), Phantasm's animated up-tempo performances of the four three-part Fantasies fully realize the wealth of lyricism typical of Gibbons' compositions.

Avie's sound is quite good--clear and detailed--and Dreyfus' informed notes feature many entertaining anecdotes. Incidentally, Concordia has recently released the promised second and final volume of its Gibbons consort music edition. Given the ensemble's aforementioned superb first entry, this will be of interest to all fans of the period and especially of the composer. However, for those looking for an excellent sampling of Gibbons (and perhaps prefer their consort settings without the unorthodox additional harpsichord continuo that Concordia often employs), Phantasm's recital certainly stands among the finest.

Fanfare, July 2004
Brian Robins

Orlando Gibbons composed some 35 works for viol consort. Of those nearly half are short, multi-sectional fantasias (or fantazias), of which nine for three-part consort were published between 1619 and 1621 (authorities vary on the date) with a dedication to Edward Wraye, a friend of Gibbons's, and a Groom of James I's bedchamber. There is also a set of six-part fantasias, works that for their profound expressive depth, and contrapuntal richness stand not only at the heart of the composer's consort output, but also among the finest works of the repertoire.

Unsurprisingly, the six-part fantasias well suit Phantasm's highly personal way with English consort music, a style that above all seeks to search out a level of lyrical eloquence often not sought by the more restrained traditions of English viol consort playing. While I would have no wish to abandon that tradition, Phantasm have frequently shown that they can, in comparison with groups such Fretwork or Concordia, often throw valuable fresh light on the music they play. Such is, I think, the case here and one need only hear the profound inner world Phantasm create at such a passage as the start of the last of the six-part fantasias to be conscious of it. Is this deep introspection a manifestation of the melancholy that so often pervades the music of Gibbons (and so many of his 17th-century English colleagues), or is it a reflection of profoundly thoughtful serenity? The ambiguity is left unanswered in Phantasm's performance, and the question unasked by Concordia, their main rivals in this music. How illuminating Phantasm are, too, in No. 3, making much of the high lying dissonance of the opening, bringing extraordinary expression to the sighing motif that develops from them, and screwing up the increasing agitation as the fantasia develops. But all the performances of these utterly rewarding pieces are shot through with moments of revelation.

The three-part fantasias are more abstract, less intense works in which one senses the composer reveling in his skill as a contrapuntist, while the Pavan and Galliard a 6 show Gibbons in more extrovert mood, the Pavan unusually elegant and poised, the Galliard robustly playful. The variations on the popular ballad "Go from my window" call for a virtuosity eagerly exploited by Phantasm, who put on a dazzling display of the art of division playing.

Laurence Dreyfus, Phantasm's leader would not be Laurence Dreyfus if he did not introduce some controversial element into the program, which here takes the form of including a number of transcriptions of works that lie outside the canon of Gibbons's consort works. His notes amusingly relate the horror of certain academics when they discovered Dreyfus was planning to include transcriptions of several keyboard works. In fact, of course, there is absolutely nothing inauthentic about transcribing this period's instrumental or vocal music (the two contrasting anthems come off very well here, while Gibbons himself made it clear that his famous madrigal "The silver swan" was suitable for either voices or viols). Moreover, Phantasm's perceived 'naughtiness' is responsible for one of the highlights of the disc, a performance of the magnificent Pavan Lord Salisbury that realizes overwhelmingly all the work's melancholic intensity.

Anyone wanting a complete set of Gibbons's consort works will have to turn to Concordia's splendid performances on Metronome (METCD 1033 and METCD 1039), discs not reviewed in Fanfare and which may be difficult to obtain in the USA. Their performances are a little 'purer', slightly less high voltage than those of Phantasm, but of high quality. There may indeed be certain moods when I would find them closer to the spirit of the repertoire, but Phantasm's passionately lyrical Gibbons demands to be heard by anyone remotely interested in the music.

International Record Review, June 04
Andrew O'Conner

The viol music of Orlando Gibbons (1583 - 1623) represents the major link in the chain of string consort music between the Elizabethan generations of Byrd and Dowland and the Caroline masters such as William Lawes. Though affected by developments taking place on the Continent, the tradition which culminated in Purcell's Fantasias, was quintessentially English. The music, often in five or six parts, was generally abstract in nature. It could be playful, but was more inclined to melancholy or at least sobriety. Such pieces were probably composed for talented and presumably wealthy amateurs. It is not known if Gibbons himself played viols. He doubtless became acquainted with the new European manner through the expatriate Italian Ferrabosco, the Italian-descended Lupo and the pseudo-Italian Giovanni Coprario (born John Cooper), all of whom were viol players. But his consorts nevertheless represent all that is appealing about the English tradition. They are rich and complex, intimate but not esoteric. Gibbons's teasing counterpoint, bold use of dissonance and inexhaustible invention make these exceptionally rewarding works in which to immerse oneself.

Phantasm have supplemented Gibbons's authentic works for viol consort - notably the fantasias for six and three parts and two In Nomines - with their own very convincing arrangements for some of the composer's best keyboard pieces and, more speculatively, of two of his church anthems. Led by the American scholar and musician Laurence Dreyfus all the members of Phantasm are distinguished soloists in their own right. But they combine to from an ensemble that is perfectly suited to the consort repertory. Their individual voices and instrumental timbres are not blended into a reedy buzz, as can happen with viol ensembles. Rather they appear as distinct participants in a seamless conversation, neither too self-effacing nor too idiosyncratic. Phantasm's subtle tonal shadings, varied articulation and rhythmic buoyancy seem to draw even more from this music than Concordia. Compared with Phantasm, Concordia's recording of the six-part Fantasias seems just a little undercharacterized. But these are subjective distinctions. The real disadvantage of the Concordia recording is not the viol works, but the unappealing singing by Rachel Elliot of some of Gibbons's consort songs.

Avie's recording is immediate and vivid, but I found it a little too close when listening on headphones. Dreyfus's notes are full of interest, but I, for one, could have done without his lengthy excursus on Glenn Gould as a Gibbons enthusiast. Surely we have moved beyond needing 'real musicians' to tell us when Early Music has value.

Gramophone, July 2004
David Fallows

Two important surveys of Gibbons: Phantasm play viol consorts with verve, Magdalen sing church music with elegant charm

Anything done by Phantasm these days must be taken very seriously. They are a superb ensemble. If they now turn their attention to the viol music of Gibbons, it is inevitably with a focus on the central works that are definitely for viols and definitely by Orlando Gibbons: the six great fantasies for six viols, the four marvellous fantasies for three viols, and a selection of what is otherwise best of his viol music in five and six parts.
They play with vast assurance and verve, always attractive, always with fresh and varied textures, always beautifully balanced. This is often playing of a breathtaking virtuosity that communicates the music with irresistible vitality. Some listeners may feel that they hit poor Gibbons a little too hard, occasionally losing track of the poetry that is his own special contribution; and others could feel that some of the tempi are chosen simply for the bravado, especially in the dazzling performance of Go from my window that ends the disc. But this is classy playing and a major contribution to the catalogue.

As a slightly eccentric bonne bouche they steer away from the music with a violone, preferring to offer arrangements of keyboard pieces and vocal anthems. This is presumably to stress the unquestionable truth that music in those days was often not genre-specific; but in the event it emphasises that the greatest of Gibbons's viol pieces are perfectly suited to that particular ensemble - which is itself worth remembering.

By contrast, the Magdalen College choir focus on his church music, including the finest of his verse anthems - This is the record of John with Rogers Covey-Crump slightly below his best and See, see the word is incarnate, with a fine range of top-flight soloists (and a doubled treble line). In all this the viols of Fretwork provide a marvellously fluid accompaniment to the Magdalen College Choir on persuasive form under the direction of Bill Ives. This is a much gentler vision of Gibbons than Phantasm offer, always judicious; but it also has slightly less personality. Jonathan Hardy contributes two neatly turned organ solos.
The eccentricity here is in the central piece, the Second Service, which is performed with accompaniment not by organ but by a consort of viols. The argument, as I understand it, is that there is no clear evidence that this was not done at the time. Well: it sounds nice enough and certainly doesn't detract from the music.

Early Music Review, May 2004
Robert Oliver

A real feast of Gibbons: all six 6-part fantasies, two of the 5-part In Nomines, 4 of the 3-part fantasies, some keyboard pieces arranged for consorts, The Silver Swan and two anthems: O Lord, in thy wrath rebuke me not and Hosanna to the Son of David. Pavan, Galliard, and the brilliant (and brilliantly played) Go from my Window divisions bring the disc to a toe-tapping conclusion. The approach is mostly full-toned, strongly contrasted, almost orchestral at times. The playing is at once authoritative and careful, with a studied feel to it, which suits the music. I feel these string works of Gibbons are the perfection of the genre - a mix of charm to the senses and delight to the musical mind, with that extra fire of inspiration which warms the greatest music. This is evident enough in the 3 part fantasies, with their delight in puzzles and cross-rhythms, yet an almost popular melodiousness like the opening of VdGS 1, but particularly in, for example, the ecstatic opening of that A minor 6-part fantasy which requires the two treble viols to be so perfectly tuned. The arranged keyboard works are fun, but less convincing to me as consort pieces than the vocal works. My enjoyment is slightly tempered by some over-emphatic accents and contrasts, and over precise imitation of some phrases, but the playing is really very good, and the music so marvellous that it can be warmly recommended.

The Guardian, April 16, 2004
Edward Greenfield

The Fantasies for viol consort by Orlando Gibbons are among the most sublime works in the string repertory, leading on to the Fantasies of Purcell, even breathing the same air as late Beethoven quartets. Sadly on disc they have too often been treated to performances that slice your ears off in period abrasiveness, but happily the group, Phantasm, is different, at once authoritative and beautifully matched.

The complexity of the six Fantasies in six parts, presented here as a cohesive group, is astonishing both in rhythm and counterpoint, and the two six-part In Nomines, more austere, have a similar intensity.

Four Fantasies in three parts demonstrate Gibbons's contrapuntal mastery just as clearly. Quoting the composer, Phantasm supplement this music written specifically for viols with transcriptions of such keyboard pieces as the superb Lord Salisbury Pavan as well as three of Gibbons's greatest vocal pieces, the motets, O Lord in Thy Wrath and Hosanna to the Son of David, and the lovely madrigal, The Silver Swan.
Well-balanced sound, though with a limited dynamic range.

Daily Telegraph / arts.telegraph.co.uk, 3rd April 2004
Elizabeth Roche

This disc may raise a few purist eyebrows. The very idea of playing idiomatic virginals music on a consort of viols seems audacious if not downright perverse. But the juxtaposition of transcriptions and music originally conceived for viols makes for a varied and attractive programme. Musically, the transcriptions of vocal as well as instrumental pieces are remarkably convincing. Even the virtuoso variations of The Hunt's Up and the plangent dissonances of Pavan Lord Salisbury lose nothing in translation. The bulk of the programme, however, is made up of groups of fantasias and "In Nomines" for up to six viols, all beautifully characterized in playing of rhythmic drive, crisp articulation and transparent textures. A clear sense of the overall shape of each piece, with well-judges contrasts of mood and pace, produces performances that do full justice to the music's profound expressiveness. This is viol playing of quite exceptional quality, calculated to convince any listeners who see the consort repertoire as something of an acquired taste that it is, in fact, delightfully easy to acquire.

Classic FM magazine, May 2004
Rick Jones

Against 'academic' advice, the viol consort Phantasm presents a disc of Orlando Gibbons's music including arrangements of works originally written for choir or keyboard. Good for Phantasm, say I, even if Hosanna to the Son seems thin without the cathedral acoustic and the Silver Swan misses its thoughtful text. The Fantasias, in Nomines and Dances remain the disc's glory and Phantasm play with a lively, weightless touch. The six-part Galliard is Gibbons at his most infectious.

BBC Music Magazine, May 2004
George Pratt

This is very exciting playing indeed. The orientation of viols, held upright from the knees, encourages smooth bow-strokes articulated from fingers and wrist. Phantasm adds a lifted stroke, more associated with a violin band. This creates an exceptionally wide tonal palette noticeable from the Fantasia à 6 which starts the disc - wonderfully light before the foil of seamless counterpoint which follows. The four members of Phantasm together with two guests, and led by the rigorous yet lightly worn scholarship of Laurence Dreyfus, focus on every detail: motifs emerge and retreat in a constant flux of sound. Every strong beat of Fantasia No. 3 expels a dissonance - an extraordinary level of intensity; a single note (No. 2) expands gradually to a rich six-part sonority; chordal textures (No. 1) dance airily. Dreyfus admits being warned against trespassing on keyboard repertoire. For me, the acidic harmonic clashes of Pavan Lord Salisbury are positively enhanced by his transcription. I'm less sure, though, about borrowing from vocal sources: for The Silver Swan, 'apt for voyces or viols', my memory provided the text, but two wordless anthems give an impression of spoken drama shorn of text and played in mime. Otherwise, a revelation - viols fashioning a new world of sound - within a perfectly recorded ambience.

Irish Times, 14 March 2004
Michael Dervan

The viol consort Phantasm offers here a rich selection from that master of rich counterpoint, Orlando Gibbons. The six-part Fantasias which open the disc tug ear, mind and heart with a complexity that most listeners associate with the 20th century rather than 17th. And Phantasm play them with the sort of awareness of their harmonic impact that's not to be taken for granted. Along with three-part fantasies and five-part In Nomines they include arrangements of keyboard and vocal music, all played in a style that finds impressive potency of expression in gestures that are actually quite delicate in contour.

Early Music Forum of Scotland News

Just the sort of bitter-sweet repertoire for a snowy day in February, this CD opens a window on the full gamut of Elizabethan and Jacobean musical sensitivity. From the heroic to the genial, from the hilarious to the tragic, from the deeply sonorous to the lightly deft, the range of Gibbons' writing is unparalleled, and Phantasm capture the every nuance in a simply superb account of this powerfully evocative music. In addition to the three- and six-part Fantasies, we are also given two lovely In Nomines as well as adaptations of madrigals ('The Silver Swan' has never sounded more poignant), anthems and keyboard music. Contrary to expectation the intricate divisions in the latter come off extremely well on the viols, a testimony to the great skill of the members of Phantasm. But ultimately it is the carefully wrought rich musical tapestry of the six-part Fantasies which impresses most. Highly recommended.

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Gramophone, August 2002
Julie Anne Sadie

Having succeeded so well with their recording of William Lawes's five-part consorts setts (Channel Classics, 8/00), Phantasm have turned exclusively to the six-part repertory, inviting Varpu Haavisto and Susanne Braumann to augment their quartet.

Although a supporting organ part in Lawes's own hand survives for the six-part setts, it evidently doesn't always agree with the autograph score. Feeling that superfluous doubling was a positive hindrance to their music-making, Phantasm chose not to take up the option (provided, should it prove necessary, to maintain order and intonation).

Dreyfus has nevertheless purloined the occasional independent line from the keyboard part, originally meant momentarily to enrich the ensemble textures, and has skilfully (and surreptitiously) incorporated them into his own versions ­ was something, I wonder, added near the end of the first Fantazy of the C minor Sett? ­ seeking the best of both worlds.

Dreyfus writes passionately about the music, referring to 'a Dionysian frenzy hell-bent on breaking civilised taboos' and 'jubilant incantations', at last concluding that Lawes must have been the kind of composer 'who frankly doesn't give a damn what you think'.

So what do we hear? A subtly resonant, particularised landscape: in effect, an Elysian soundscape. Gone is the corporate consort sound we learned to relish in former decades. With seeming ease, the voice of each viol emerges and withdraws and withdraws on cue as the music unfolds with sublime logic and unquestionable momentum. For me the best setts are the two in minor keys, which offered Lawes a richer harmonic palette and the players greater expressive possibilities.

The harmonically bizarre first Fantazy of the C minor Sett must have excited 17th-century ears, which ­ if they were lucky ­ were treated as we are here to an excitingly paced second Fantazy, then an 'Inomine' ('sinewy' and sustained at first, then quicker in the second section, the plainchant exquisitely interwoven and at the same time plain for all to hear), and finally a vibrant Aire, resplendent in its swaggering repeated notes and syncopated dash. Whether it would make so vivid an impression from another ensemble is doubtful.

Dreyfus's unselfconscious hyperbolic enthusiasm aside, these are beautifully thought-out, sympathetic performances, worthy of a cultivated monarch and the composer's quatercentenary. It is unfortunate that [the Concordia and Phantasm] recordings should have appeared in such close proximity. Connoisseurs of consort playing can't help but be struck by the greater impact of the music from Dreyfus and his colleagues: Phantasm is truly in a class of its own.

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Diapason, September 2000
Jean-Luc Macia
*****

Appealing renditions of these same works typical of the art of the English viol have already been offered by the ensemble Fretwork [CD Virgin]. Phantasm, led by Laurence Dreyfus (whom the excellent Sarah Cunningham joins for the five-part consorts, three quarters of the disc) need not envy them at all. Here the articulative precision highlights the polyphonic complexity of these dreamy pavans and vibrant fantasies. The viol players of Phantasm succeed in creating an impression of ceaseless new melodies and new beginnings, and the result never stops seducing the ear.

To be sure, the ensemble's sonority is less silken, less comfortable than the one produced by Jordi Savall's Hesperion XXI in this repertoire, but the acidity of the treble viols countering the hollow depths of the basses emits a more distinctly English and aggressive humour which prevents Lawes' works from sinking into monotonous melancholy. Certain movements (such as the first Fantasy) attain a realm of magic that allows one to guess what Purcell will do with this combination.A feast for viol fanatics.

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Classic CD, August, 2000
Paul Riley

The last line of Ye Sacred Muses, the exquisite tribute to Tallis which ends this disc, insists that "Tallis is dead and music dies". Happily whilst the first part is undeniably true, Byrd's plangent setting protests otherwise for the veracity of the rider! And with a bewitching disc of Byrd's Fantasies and In Nomines already behind them, Phantasm are well placed to fight Byrd's corner. One Fantasia a4 and a couple of In Nomines (unravelled with almost sensuous commitment) fly the instrumental flag, but the bulk of the programme is given over to song - who subtexts and ciphers (which makes Shostakovitch seem like a model of transparency) are skilfully elucidated in Laurence Dreyfus' excellent notes. Jewels abound: the soulful lament on the death of Henry Prince of Wales "Fair Britain Isle", and flirtatious "Susanna fair", the substantial Lullaby, enwrapt but concealing an unexpected stridency. Ian Partridge nor Geraldine McGreevy sing unfailingly with stylish good taste.

BBC Music Magazine, August 2000
Kate Bolton

Phantasm's artistic policy to 'dwell in the here and now' rather than to recreate the past has resulted in some of the most vital and unashamedly passionate viol-playing around today. Here, the four instruments are optimally balanced - conversing, articulating and breathing in quasi-vocal fashion. Intonation and ensemble are near impeccable; rhythms are keenly buoyant in the dance-inspired pieces, sinuous in the more reflective ones. The same policy has presumably led to their choice of two singers whose voices are a far cry from what has been decried as the 'whitewashed' early music sound. Ian Partridge will be known to many readers - particularly as a Lieder and opera singer - and here he is in fine form. Geraldine McGreevy's lustrous, bell-like voice and intelligent delivery are most appealing. And while the members of Phantasm certainly imbue their playing with Romantic spirit, they are nonetheless deeply grounded in period style.

Gramophone, October 2000
Lindsay Kemp

Vivid performances from players and singers committed to projecting both text and music with character and imagination.

The latest release from the award-winning viol consort Phantasm sees them turning to the consort song repertory for the first time, with singular results. Geraldine McGreevy is a different type of singer from those normally heard in early music these days, her firm clarity and fast vibrato sounding rather more like the kind of voice one used to hear in the 1970s. Ian Partridge, of course was one of those voices (though not of that particular sort) and it is interesting to hear him again now, his easy tones sounding as instantly recognisable as they ever did. This suggestion of a throwback is not intended as a criticism, however; rather it is a recognition of the individuality that Phantasm bring to their music-making. Just as no other viol consort offers such a rich and vibrant instrumental sound, so there can be a tendency among many performers of consort songs to make the voice imitate the viol, recessing it in the texture and suppressing some of its natural expressiveness. Here the opposite approach holds sway: Phantasm, one feels, are really 'playing the words'. and with good reason. McGreevy, for one, is not going to pretend that she is anything other than a fine young singer with something to say of her own. She allows herself a little portamento from time to time, uses voice colour to good effect (for instance in contrasting 'Peace and quietness' and 'Terrors great' in Rejoice unto the Lord) and shows herself equally adept in lively rhythmic numbers such as Though Amaryllis dance in green and more elegiac songs such as Fair Britain Isle or the near-epic Lullaby my sweet little baby. Partridge has fewer songs to sing than McGreevy, but then he has the plum in Ye Sacred Muses, Byrd's great lament on the death of his teacher Tallis, which he delivers with simple feeling, yet adding one telling and memorable detail: a tiny extra note in the third-last phrase, the musical equivalent, it seems to me, of an emotional crack in the voice.

International Record Review, October 2000
Jeremy Noble

So much on the disc is both good and unfamiliar that lovers of Byrd's music should snatch it up.

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Gramophone – August 2001
Lindsay Kemp

Phantasm offer a consistently illuminating approach to Locke’s eventful Fantasies.

Writing in the booklet, Laurence Dreyfus also draws attention to Locke’s ‘striking muscularity’ and also to his ‘purest lyricism and most … generous warmth’, dubbing his work ‘true music of consolation’. Changeable and abrupt though it may at first seem, it is certainly music that grows on you with repeated listenings.

Phantasm play with their customary expertise. Their combination of vibrant tone quality and strong rhythmic attack allows them to make the most of Locke’s mercurial musings, bringing lyrical gravity to the Fantasies and an exhilarating spring to the faster dances. A fairly close recording helps them in this, giving them at time the clarity and substance almost of a string quartet. By comparison the equally accomplished Fretwork have a thinner and less defined sound, and their performances are less consistent in offering moment-to-moment excitement. Their generally more subdued approach has power to charm … but for me it is Phantasm who tend to make more of this intriguing music.

The Observer (London) - 6 May 2001
Tarik O'Regan

Taking a break from his work as an internationally renowned musicologist, Dreyfus leads the Phantasm viol quartet in this intoxicating recording of seven suites by Matthew Locke (1622-77) for the recording arm of www.gmn.com. As Dreyfus admits himself, the listener may take time to get used to the ‘abrupt quality of Locke’s musical thinking’. Even on a first hearing, however, one can glean an inherent wit and charm in the writing, assisted in no small measure by the colourful yet delicate playing of Phantasm.

International Record Review - October 2000
Jeremy Noble

Here’s another valuable contribution from Phantasm to the repertory of English viol consort music on disc. Locke’s suites consist, for the most part, of a substantial multisectional fantasia followed by a group of dance-like pieces, usually courante, ayre and saraband. One says ‘dance-like’ advisedly, because although they fall into the standard bipartite form with each half repeated, these are clearly no more dances for dancing than those in Couperin’s ordres or Bach’s keyboard suites and partitas. They are true chamber music, to be enjoyed above all by the players, who can relish the genuinely contrapuntal conversation of their individual parts and the witty shifts of rhythm (particularly in the courantes).

For all his turbulence as a personality, Locke’s music on the whole makes a less extravagant impression than that of William Lawes, which Phantasm has also recorded recently (reviewed by me on page 64 of the August issue). At the same time there is something almost theatrical about the way in which the various sections of the opening fantasias juxtapose contrasting material, contrasting moods. The young Purcell, who knew Locke’s music and composed an elegy on his death in 1677, learnt much from this, and Phantasm’s alert, pointed playing does full justice to it. The six four-part consorts are printed in Volume 32 of Musica Britannica, the three part ‘Flatt Consort’ in volume 31.

Classics Today.com
David Vernier

With a little bit of work, Matthew Locke could have been the Gesualdo of English consort music. He certainly had those tendencies toward rule-bending structural and harmonic thinking that occasionally creates an ear-tweaking moment or smile-inducing episode in these engaging works for four viols. Coming along as he did at the end of the "viol period" - he died in 1677 - Locke neither strictly followed tradition nor offered anything substantially innovative to the genre; rather, he just did his own thing, which sometimes seems disjointed, undeveloped, or just plain capricious. Not that these pieces aren't enjoyable, sonorous, melodically interesting, or otherwise just plain entertaining.

For the most part, the writing is idiomatic, varied in texture, tempo, and color, and alternately somber and lively (mostly the latter). At the beginning of the Suite No. 2, just as we're settling in to an up-tempo dance, the tempo slows, then speeds--and without warning stops and falls face down in a totally different key. Then the music changes completely--are we in another piece altogether? Similarly, at the end of Suite No. 4 we are happily jostled and jolted from one set of rhythmic figures to another, interrupted with sudden stops and starts. By the last bar we feel like someone who's been spun around with a blindfold on and suddenly turned loose, slightly disoriented but enjoying the experience nevertheless.

The four viol players of the group Phantasm obviously are enjoying themselves immensely, catering to Locke's quirky yet controlled inventions with more animated articulation than we usually get from these instruments. The sound, from the ideal and oft-used venue of England's Forde Abbey and engineered by veteran Mike Hatch, is, well, pretty close to ideal. This is not great-with-a-capital-G music; but it's fun, and definitely worth a visit.

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The JS Bach Homepage
Jan Hanford

Because it is written in open score, there has been some controversy regarding what instrument Bach's "Art of Fugue" is written for. According to Laurence Dreyfus' extensive and wonderfully informative notes in the cd's booklet, Bach's son, Carl Philipp Emanuel, advertised a published version of the "Art of Fugue" as 'expressly arranged for the use of harpsichord or organ.' In reality, while most of the movements are playable by one person at a keyboard, several movements are not. Therefore, there have been many recordings/versions of the Art of Fugue by ensembles, dividing the movements up to be played by various instrumental combinations alternating with solo harpsichord. Their goal is to present the individual lines of music in such a way as to reveal the complexity of the fugues and make them more easily heard and enhance their musicality. To my ears, no one has accomplished this task more successfully than Phantasm in this new recording.

The intellectual value of the Art of Fugue is much discussed. But Phantasm has produced the most beautiful interpretation I have heard to date. I've rarely heard such clarity and energy in a performance of this work. Phantasm plays as a completely unified ensemble; each musician's performance blends perfectly with the others. In an era where I find too many ensembles to be a collection of soloists intent on making their agenda heard, Phantasm's ability to play as a whole is refreshing and exciting. The vitality and interpretive skill they put into what is often considered one of Bach's "dry" works is exceptional, I was capitivated by the entire performance. Perhaps it is the fact they are playing viols that makes this intepretation so clear and musically vibrant. The uniformity of the sound is a perfect palette for presenting the individuality of the melodic lines and the nuances of the counterpoint. For this recording, Phantasm has chosen 12 of the Contrapunti from the Art of Fugue.

In the booklet notes Laurence Dreyfus explains, "We've left out canons and the mirror fugues as they don't seem especially suited to performance on viols and also - dare one say it? - because they do not seem to occupy the same artistic plane as the other works in the collection." A special note: Bach died before finishing the final fugue. Rather than coming up with a self-invented ending (as many ensembles do), Phantasm keeps true to the score and the final fugue simply... stops. The result is emotionally powerful, I was deeply moved by the effect. A few movements of the Art of Fugue may be missed but there is a reward: it has left room on the cd for the inclusion of the rarely (if ever) recorded Mozart arrangements of Bach fugues from The Well-Tempered Clavier II. What a treasure! Phantasm approaches these works with the same sensitivity, energy and interpretive consistency. I am excited to have the opportunity to hear these works and Phantasm's including them is truly a milestone.

In my large collection of Bach's music, this cd is included in the list of my favorites.

The New York Times, 4 April 1999
Bernard D. Sherman

...a commanding new recording of Bach's "Art of Fugue". To say that Phantasm (whose members, in addition to Laurence Dreyfus, are Wendy Gillespie, Jonathan Manson and Markku Luolajan-Mikkola) avoids the "Where's Waldo?" trap is like saying that Mikhail Baryshnikov avoids the clumsiness trap. The group's refined sense of contrapuntal balance is most evident in spots where Bach intentionally hides the first note of the main subject when it is played in the middle of a fugue. Many performers spotlight the otherwise hidden entry by accenting the first note to make it stand out from everything going on around it. Phantasm instead lets the entry emerge naturally out of the texture and surprise us once we recognize it.... Phantasm communicates more than just the subtleties of contrapuntal technique. As Dreyfus emphasizes, "The Art of Fugue" is full of emotion and also of "fascinating commentary" on the musical world in which Bach lived. Phantasm catches the allusions when Bach refers to various Baroque styles, like a sacred choral motet, a French overture or a gigue. These allusions raise another quandary of transplanting old music to modern contexts: do the period references mean anything to the nonspecialist modern listener? Phantasm shows how they might. The allusions help define the music's emotional character.... Phantasm's recording, while on historically "wrong" instruments, will not become outmoded. It conveys too much of the musical accomplishment, the mystery and the humanity of "The Art of Fugue." Like other outstanding Bach performers before it, Phantasm reminds us that anachronism can have its uses.

Aftenposten (Oslo, Norway), September 22, 1998
Idar Karevold

This is a recording which should arouse special interest. It coheres with the choice of movements and with the group's ability to articulate and pinpoint the themes with elegantly chosen phrasing. The four members with the American Laurence Dreyfus all live in different parts of Europe and the United States but when they come together to make music, they are well worth hearing. That the Norwegian company Simax issues everything that they produce is no small coup and has already resulted in a prize from the magazine Gramophone. This recording, too, should also not come very far from taking a top prize. Their reading of the Art of Fugue is a harmonic treat thanks to the consort's exquisite intonation. For those who are excited by the rhythms of the Baroque, it can be said that this recording swings with the most ravishing nuances. It is music that attaches itself to your inner ear and sounds long after the recording has concluded, a recording about which Bach and Mozart lovers will rejoice.

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Fanfare - May/June 1998
Brian Robins

I've yet to catch up with Phantasm's award-winning debut disc of Purcell's great viol Fantasias (warmly welcomed by Robert Maxham in Fanfare 20:4), but can immediately confirm that they have another resounding success on their hands with its successor. Indeed, about the only thing wrong with the disc is the foolish title Simax has saddled it with—Still Music of the Spheres. Still? Much of this music has a forward-moving momentum and rhythmic vitality you'd be hard put to equal anywhere. As for the spheres, well, I suppose there are places where Byrd's viol consorts seem to move on different temporal levels, but that's about as close as you'll come.

Having disposed of that gripe the rest is enthusiastic praise, not least for the adventurous idea of teaming the Byrd works with those of a virtually forgotten composer of the next generation. Richard Mico (c. 1595-1661) was descended from a French Huguenot family that emigrated to England, where he worked initially for Byrd's former patrons, the Petres, later becoming organist of the Roman Catholic chapel of Henrietta Maria, Charles l's wife. None of Mico's consort works were published in his lifetime, although Burney records that Christopher Simpson, writing six years after his death named him as one of the best composers of “Fansies.” It is 10 of these Fancys that form the principal part of a selection chosen by Phantasm, which has divided them into four short Sets, prefacing three of them with Pavans. Without exception all these pieces reveal Mico to have been a composer with a distinctly individual voice whose closely woven counterpoint is skillfully laid out for the four-part viol ensemble, frequently belying the verdict of the New Oxford History (Vol. 4) that Mico was one of a group of later consort composers who avoided the "problematical and pro­found." This is in fact eminently worthwhile music; and I for one am grateful to Phantasm for reviv­ing it and playing it with such commitment.

The principal rival in the Byrd pieces is Fretwork's complete disc of the consort music on Virgin Classics (assuming it to be still available). There's a marked (and equally valid) difference of approach between the two groups. Whereas Fretwork adopted a considered and poised interpretive style, Phantasm is considerably more expressive and excitable, bowing more deeply into the strings, and bringing pieces like Browning and the second of the six-part Fantasias to truly thrilling perorations. Technically and rhythmically, too, they are absolutely superb. I did wonder whether the con­clusion of the In nomine IV was possibly just a shade too hectic, but then cast my mind back to the luminescence of the opening of the same piece and forgave all. The sound captures this full, rich, and buoyant playing to perfection, and there is no doubt that the disc demands unqualified recommendation. Those wanting Byrd's complete consort music will probably already own the Fretwork. If you don't, it's worth making the point that most of the cream is here, in addition to which you will have the pleasure of making Mico's acquaintance. For the best of all worlds have both—they complement each other in the most satisfying manner.

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Diapason (France), 2003
Dennis Morrier

Conduite de main de maître par le violiste et musicologue Laurence Dreyfus, Phantasm se distingue par la souplesse du phrasé individuel et la parfaite lisibilité de la polyphonie.

[Directed with a masterly hand by the viol player and musicologist Laurence Dreyfus, Phantasm distinguishes itself by the suppleness of its individual phrasing and the perfect clarity of the polyphony.]

Fanfare (USA), March 1997
Robert Maxham

Phantasm's performances of these fantasias are transparently clear, timbrally attractive, and, through their consistently well-considered balances, texturally inventive. The notes by Laurence Dreyfus are among the most illuminating ever to accompany a disc, bringing to the reader almost as many insights as the performance itself brings to the listener. The recorded sound is a model of clarity and presence, once again nearly as revelatory as the performances themselves. If I were pressed to identify the greatest string music of all time, these youthful fantasias by Purcell would come as readily to my mind as Beethoven's late string quartets. This is music that seems to open the seals of the great book of life. The dearth of recordings of the fantasias need no longer plague devotees of these magnificent works. (In the same breath should be mentioned Jordi Savall's with Hesperion XX, more reflective but less straightforward timbrally and interpretively than Phantasm's.) Happy days are indeed here again, because Phantasm's excellent recording also deserves a high commendation."

Gramophone, February 1997
Lionel Salter

It is the music's deep expressiveness and the dramatic tension created by its unpredictable harmonies which Phantasm emphasise in this striking recording, both in their varied dynamics and in their use of vibrato. These performances are, if anything, even more striking than those by Fretwork, whose approach was, on the whole, plainer - one might even say more severe. Speeds here are faster in general and there is rather more variety of bowing and hence of articulation. If it weren't that rival versions inevitably affect each other's sales, one could rejoice that two such fine, though differing, readings of these superb works were both available

Gramophone, Awards issue 1997
Lionel Salter

The music has a deep expressiveness, even emotionalism, and a dramatic tension created by chromaticisms and bold harmonies that makes itself felt even by those unconscious of, or indifferent to, such intellectual considerations... There have been other excellent recordings of these masterly works, but that by Phantasm has a sense of commitment, a vital impetus and a variety of articulation that puts it to the fore.

Gramophone, March 1998
Tess Knighton

Gramophone Critics' Choice for 1997
I know this is unoriginal of me, but I must also go for Phantasm's recording of Purcell's Fantazias and In Nomines, winner of the Baroque non-vocal category: quite electrifying.

Gramophone, March 1998
Lionel Salter

I was glad to find my enthusiasm for two of my present choices shared by colleagues to such an extent that both won Gramophone awards late last year: Rameau's Hippolyte... and Purcell's Fantazias become more riveting in their expressive and dramatic contrapuntal mastery on every rehearing.

Rondo (Finland), December 1996
Antti Häyrynen

Phantasm makes one wonder yet again why the Purcell Fantasies are not accorded a place of honour next to the best instrumental works of Bach or the late string quartets of Beethoven. The interpretations on the recording are honest and clear. Above all, they are pervaded by a truly burning spirit. Not even in their most meditative ecstasy does the music-making remain aloof but the message is conveyed in a generous and thought-provoking manner. I envy the lucky ones who haven't yet come across this music and have still to be introduced to it.

American Record Guide, March/April 1997
Laird

This is an excellent disc in what has become a crowded field... The musicians are sensitive to the great subtlety of this music and quick to match its changing affect. Releases by Fretwork and Savall's Hesperion XX have been my favorites, but this recording matches them well.

Canor (Poland), June 1997
Tomasz Biel

It is an intriguing world in which a small, little-known Norwegian record company would want to publish the completely non-commercial viol consort Fantasias of Purcell performed by musicians from the US, Scotland and Finland. This in itself astonishes me, and I am even more astonished by the effect of this enterprise. This is a recording which I do not hesitate to place among the most magnificent which has ever been made for this configuration of instruments. The Fantasias are works which, for unknown reasons are considered to be a 'music one cannot listen to.' This unbelievable nonsense has been repeated thoughtlessly for years, though every one of the last few generations of musicians has presented us with its own vision of Purcell's work - Wenzinger, Harnoncourt, Medlam, Savall, Boothby, and now Dreyfus. At least for once I can say that I move with the spirit of the times, since the most magnificent among these visions seems to me precisely the last.

Hufvudstadsbladet (Helsinki), 17 August 1997
Cecilia Björk

Intellectual and Sensual Purcell - Purcell's Fantazias are magnificent music - fresh, inspired, and amazingly expressive - there are moments when one feels that Beethoven and Schubert's string quartets are not so far away. Phantasm's interpretation is as fresh as the music, the ensemble playing is polished, and the sensitivity and eloquence of the viol sound mark a great triumph.You can almost feel the sympathetic vibrations of the viols so much that, when you listen carefully, you imagine yourself seated in the middle of the ensemble.

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Early Music Today, August-September 2000
John Allinson

Lufthansa Baroque Festival ­ 15 June 2000 ­ St John's Smith Square - London (England)

Flights of Fancy and Fugue

The highlight of the festival for me was the performance on 15 June by Phantasm, a young London-based viol consort. In the first half they performed fancies and fantazias ­ episodic works, with dark, chocolatey harmony ­ by Richard Mico and Henry Purcell. The balance was near-perfect, their intonation superb. They breathed, swayed and listened as one: this was truly communicative, engaging music-making. The second half contained two fascinating groups of works: Mozart's arrangements for quartet of fugues from the book 2 of the Well-Tempered Clavier (K405) and movements from Bach's Art of Fugue (BWV 1080). In the Mozart arrangements the unfolding of the familiar fugues was beautifully articulated, with contrasting subjects and countersubjects well characterised as they moved around the semicircle of players. Best of all was the Bach: no note or phrase went unthought, each player aware of his place in the shifting polyphonic web. This was far from a didactic performance: indeed, the ravelling and unknotting of tension, the ebb and flow of the musical argument, was touching, alive. I was unexpectedly moved by this most intellectual of works. The rush of warm applause which followed was heartfelt, and well-deserved.

Berliner Zeitung, 2 May 2000

Review from Phantasm's appearances at the 'Long Bach Night' in Berlin

Both of Phantasm's concerts were completely filled to the brim: crouching on the floor to the Music Club, the mainly youthful audience lapsed into meditation as they took in the achingly beautiful, silken timbre of the four baroque viols...

Los Angeles Times, 28 January 2000
John Henken

Phantasm Displays Power, Expressive Flair of the Viol

Phantasm, a 6-year old quartet basked in London and widely admired for its recorded work, made its West Coast debut with a revelatory and affecting survey of the golden age in 17th England. Although for the most part linear rigor was the driving force here, there was never anything mechanical about Phantasm's playing. Rich in subtly shaded colour, it moved with an organic ebb and flow, clearly thought, deeply felt and communicative on all levels. ... Phantasm also brought along a fine singer. Geraldine McGreevy's soprano is a suave, flexible instrument in its own right: pure, gleaming and wielded with relish.

Santa Barbara News Press, 31 Jan 2000
Greg Hettmansberger

Phantasm makes old music very fresh

The viol consort known as Phantasm is already internationally renowned for taking music as old as 400 years and giving performances of compelling vitality. Having them demonstrate their unique gifts Thursday night at UCSB's Lotte Lehmann Hall was made all the more fitting by the fact that the players were this year's featured guests of the Karl Geiringer Lecture series.The goal of the series is to present artists who not only produce great art, but illuminate it. Phantasm founder Laurence Dreyfus had lectured earlier in the day, and the performances spoke volumes as well. The joy of hearing the four players of Phantasm lies in the freshness and excitement of their interpretations. The instruments are a wonder: Dreyfus' treble viol looks from a distance almost like a violin, but it is held not under the chin, but between the thighs. The two tenor viols (played by Wendy Gillespie and Jonathan Manson) do look like miniature cellos, and although Markku Luolajan-Mikkola's bass viol looks like a modern cello minus the extension pin it shares a more slender elegance of shape with the smaller viols. All of them also have tones far less bright than modern string instruments, but also possess a sweeter, more intimate sound. The repertoire was as fascinating as the instruments, with half the composers more obscure than footnotes to modern concertgoers -- when was the last time you sampled Mico, Jenkins or Locke- The players of Phantasm know all these men and more as distinct stylistic personalities; there was never any danger of timbral monotony. But the enjoyment was greatly increased by Dreyfus's scholarly program notes. For all of the ensemble's charms though, the evening's most memorable moments came when the soprano voice of Geraldine McGreevy was intermittently added for three short sets of songs by William Byrd. She too dispelled old stereotypes about the vocal sound one expects in this Elizabethan music. Not a trace of hollowness or hootiness was heard, but a rich colorful and expressive instrument. McGreevy's nearly flawless diction and subtle gift for inflection nearly obviated the need to follow the printed texts -- but they were welcome, as again were the notes of Dreyfus. Several of the seven songs had meanings between the lines, whether political, satirical, or saucy.Closing the second set was 'Lullaby', a tender and charming work that alternates a lullabying chorus of Mary comforting the baby Jesus with narrative and reflection on the events following his birth. The final lullaby chorus kept the near-capacity audience hushed. The closing number of the night also served as the concert's collective title. 'Ye Sacred Muses.' A tribute to the passing of the towering Thomas Tallis, Byrd suggests that when Tallis died, a part of music died with him. The eloquence of the music and the performers was thoroughly persuasive. The final note died away, and an impetuous 'Bravo!' triggered a long ovation. The reward was a final Byrd lyric as encore, 'In Fields Abroad.'

Helsinki Sanomat (USA), 24 Aug 1999
Jukka Isopuro

Review of Phantasm at the Helsinki Festival

The world-famous viol consort, Phantasm, are deeply attuned to their crystalline, warm and resonant sound-world. Despite the subtle emotional range of 17th-century viol music,one can experience its meanings in the here-and-now as a soft timbral bath or seek allusions from the pleasures of the past. Each of the fantasies, pavens, and ayres by William Lawes remained true to character, at the same time that one also heard passing chromatic shadows, melancoly repeated figures and darkly descending steps. The Fantasies by Henry Purcell provided a greater sense of summarising within the tradition of skilful contrapuntal composition. The pieces exist in weird, multi-faceted atmospheres that disperse in different directions. Full of joy and tranquillity, the fantasies recall Bach's Art of Fugue and late Beethoven, in which the imagination is limited only by its own autonomous rules. There have been complaints that there wasn't a good composer in England for another 200 years after Purcell, but a genius of this magnitude is not born every day. Phantasm combined an evocative and transparent sound with seamlessly varied gestures. The shadings in the Purcell Fantasies were a particular revelation. They arrived without explanation and disappeared just as mysteriously. Even when listening to the viols tuning, one grapsed a direct connection between the listener and a tonal miracle that dispensed with either artificial amplification or equalising equipment. Having tuned in to the right frequency, one is intoxicated by the shimmering and deeply satisfying tone of the viols. "

New York Times, 16 August 1996
Allan Kozinn

Phantasm in its New York debut at the Frick Collection

One had the sense that the works ... were played with an exploratory sense, as if they were being discovered afresh.... The players produced a sound of great beauty. Individual lines were clear and distinct, and when a line sang out about the others, the players helped it with a subtle touch of vibrato, an effect not often heard at viol concerts.

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