Flow my Teares

Fretwork: Asako Morikawa, Reiko Ichise, Liam Byrne, Richard Tunnicliffe and Richard Boothby, viols

Elizabeth Kenny, lute

Chapel of the New Jerusalem, Christ Church Cathedral
November 16, 2013

By James Young

The dominant affect of the early seventeenth century was melancholy (much as cynicism is the dominant affect of our own). Robert Burton wrote the book on melancholy: The Anatomy of Melancholy: What it is, with All the Kinds, Causes, Symptomes, Prognostickes & Severall Cures of it (1628). In Part I, Section I, Subsection IV of this rambling, quirky, learned and, above all, massive tome, Burton considers the question of how many species of melancholy can be identified.

Some of the authorities Burton cites believe that the species of melancholy can be easily enumerated. Hercules de Saxonia, Burton writes, identifies two kinds, “material and immaterial; one from spirits alone, the other from humours and spirits.” Savonarola, on the other hand, “will have the kinds to be infinite; one from the myrach, called myrachialis of Arabians; another stomachalis, from the stomach; another from the liver, heart, womb, hemrods: 'one beginning, another consummate'". Burton goes on to note that, "Melancthon seconds him."

John Dowland was a man of his time and wore his melancholia like a badge of honour. His Lachrimae or seaven teares seven passionate pavans, with divers other pavans, galiards and allemandes, set forth for the lute, viols, or violons, in five parts (1604) can be cited as evidence that Savonarola and Melancthon were right and Hercules of Saxonia wrong. Dowland's magnum opus can be heard as a kind of catalogue of the species of melancholy, almost endless in their variety. (Of course, there are some sunnier moments in the dance movements.)

The full greatness of Dowland's achievement can only be appreciated when his work is essayed by musicians of comparable distinction. In Elizabeth Kenny and the musicians of Fretwork, Dowland's Lachrimae have found their perfect advocates. In the hands of lesser musicians, the work might seem to be mere Gebrauchmusik, but this evening its wonders were manifest for all to hear. Fretwork has had some turnover in his membership in recent years, but it remains a magisterial ensemble. If anything, the new members have only enhanced the transparency of the ensemble's sound. A review of an earlier concert in the tour, the one in Chicago, referred to "Fretwork's ravishing crushed-velvet tone". (http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/music/chi-fretwork-review-20131110,0,2350266.story) I can only add to the simile and suggest that that the upper voices were like embroidery on the crushed-velvet of the bass viols.

The evening was enhanced by the acoustics of the Chapel of the New Jerusalem. Little bigger than the great hall of an Elizabethan manor, every note was warm and present. Even the lute solos were perfectly distinct. (For the originally announced solos, Kenney substituted a lute version of Langston's Pavan to lighten the mood a little and the Farwell fantasia to mark the end of a long tour.) The only acoustic problem was that the viols tended to overwhelm the lute a little in the ensemble pieces.

Besides the Dowland, the programme included a piece by Adrian Williams, Tears to Dreams (2004). While the composer does not incorporate material from Lachrimae into his work - apart from a brief quotation that I think I heard - he describes the composition as "a drifting, elegiac piece which on the whole retains Dowland's melancholia, ultimately slipping slowly away into a dream". Williams was revealed to be a composer of very considerable distinction. I thought that this accessible work successfully added to the catalogue of types of melancholy. Perhaps our distracted times have seen additions to the list.

The concert was presented by Christ Church Cathedral and the Pacific Baroque Festival, who are to be commended for bringing such distinguished musicians, and such a wonderful programme, to Victoria.


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