A near-contemporary of Gibbons, Tomkins and Weelkes, John Amner (1579-1641) left just one publication behind at his death (though a generous selection of other works have been preserved and subsequently edited). His <i>Sacred Hymns of 3, 4, 5 and 6 parts for Voyces and Vyols</i> was printed in 1615 and its contents, recorded here in full by Fretwork and the Dublin Consort Singers, offer a good introduction to the composer, ranging from simple, declamatory early settings to elaborate five‑part polyphony and accompanied verse anthems. </p>

<p>At first listen it’s hard to find that distinctive musical identity that, within just a few bars, sets a Weelkes or Gibbons motet apart. But if Amner’s stylistic voice is more anonymous, his skill is significant. The three-voice <i>Distressed soul</i> finds some unexpected harmonic colours in its intimate portrait of human grief. Sin is, by turns, repugnant, poignant and overwhelming, and the music eventually collapses into ever more drawn-out suspensions, wailing cries of ‘aye me’. <i>Come let’s rejoice</i>, by contrast, is an ebullient romp of an anthem in the tradition of Byrd’s <i>Sing joyfully</i>, bright with antiphonal effects and chattering delight.</p>

<p>Most impressive are the pair of five-voice anthems <i>Thus sings that heavenly quire</i> and <i>The heavens stood all amazed</i>, which blend madrigalian word-painting with intricate counterpoint, moving between imitative counterpoint and more Italianate antiphony, as well as the verse anthems <i>O ye little flock</i>, with its neatly characterised and differentiated solo verse sections, and <i>Consider, all ye passers by</i>, which sets a solo tenor against a full five‑voice texture.</p>

<p>Performances by the Dublin Consort Singers are neat and carefully shaped by director Mark Keane, the tone throughout clean and unfussy. Fretwork are a luxury addition for the verse anthems, and a Galliard and more extended Pavan give them a chance to get their teeth more thoroughly into music that, if not of the urgent first rank of the period, has plenty of quiet charm to recommend it. A somewhat terse booklet note by Keane himself rather short-changes the music. Anyone curious should consult the much more detailed account in Anthony J Greening’s <i>Grove</i> entry.