There is something peculiarly satisfying about performing music in the building for which it was originally composed, or to which it found its way at an early stage in its existence. Nicholas Sandon makes a convincing case for these four works having been copied by Thomas Bull, as part of the repertoire he was preparing for Canterbury Cathedral after the Dissolution. The names of Bull and Tallis are listed among the vicars-choral in the newly established choir of 1540, and although Tallis only remained there a couple of years, these early works of his would almost certainly have been performed in the cathedral during that time.
Listening to this recording, we can imagine their initial impact. David Flood has wisely chosen the nave, rather than the chancel, as the best place in the cathedral to position his choir so that the full power and beauty of the music can be appreciated. And powerful it certainly is, casting a backward glance towards an earlier period, when composers invented those seemingly unending melodic lines, strewing them across the page like huge swathes of sound. A case in point here is the treble line: the choristers deserve to be congratulated on their proficiency in sustaining their part with such confidence.
The tenor, missing from the Peterhouse partbooks, has been skilfully reconstructed. But what was the reason for omitting so much of the Credo – about a third of the total – from the end of “ad dexteram Patris” to “Et expecto”?'