These two new recordings of the 1610 Vespers are greatly contrasted‚ though in neither case are precedents hard to find. Suzuki treats the score as a concert work‚ following the order in the original 1610 publication‚ whereas Garrido takes the liturgical approach familiar from Andrew Parrott and Philip Pickett‚ in which each psalm is preceded and followed‚ respectively‚ by its chant antiphon and an antiphon substitute (which necessitates the re­ordering of pieces). Suzuki does follow Parrott‚ however‚ in performing the ‘Lauda Jerusalem’ and the ‘Magnificat’ at a lower pitch; and comparison with Garrido’s higher pitch makes clear the advantages in doing so. Finally‚ Suzuki also adopts a concert approach to scoring‚ which is more lavish than Garrido’s; and he uses the full choral forces at his disposal in the psalms and the ‘Magnificat’‚ reserving solo passages for verses. Garrido slips between soloists‚ full choir and alternating semi­choruses (of which the latter strike me as formally dubious‚ introducing as it does in the psalms a further layer of alternation between verses). Both conceptions – the concert‚ choral tradition and the liturgical‚ ‘chamber’ approach – have long and distinguished pedigrees. That may be another way of saying that neither offers strikingly new insights into a much­recorded score; no great criticism in itself‚ perhaps‚ except that I was often reminded of rival versions that did rather the same thing‚ rather more convincingly. In its fundamentally Latin approach‚ for example‚ Garrido shows strong affinities with Jordi Savall; but his vocalists lack the distinctiveness (Monserrat Figueras comes most immediately to mind) of Savall’s‚ notwithstanding a pleasing ‘Pulchra es’. For the rest‚ Savall’s choir is better disciplined‚ his sense of pacing and drama more reliable (try the first choral entry of Garrido’s ‘Audi caelum’ for an illustration of the latter‚ and his ‘Lauda Jerusalem’ for the former). Garrido’s instrumentalists do better‚ to my mind‚ and the ‘Sonata sopra Sancta Maria’‚ with its plentiful ornaments‚ stands out as one of the recording’s most inspired moments. The sound quality is not without its problems either‚ for in the more densely scored passages inner voices can be obscured‚ and end up sounding muddled. So this Vespers is something of a disappointment‚ particularly as the approach it espouses is not over­represented on disc. Suzuki includes the entire music of Monteverdi’s 1610 publication: not only do we get the alternative six­voice Vespers (which Garrido has)‚ but the Mass In illo tempore as well. This happy initiative gives Suzuki a certain novelty value (though I believe there is at least one older recording that included at least the Mass)‚ and the performance of the Mass is as clean and secure as one could wish (though I confess to finding Philippe Herreweghe’s reading on Harmonia Mundi more involving‚ both interpretatively and acoustically). Suzuki’s Vespers are equally clean and secure‚ though one might try Sir John Eliot Gardiner’s version for a similar conception to greater effect. Clearly Suzuki’s soloists are more confident and experienced than Garrido’s‚ and the discipline of the Bach Collegium Japan needs little advocacy. These are clean‚ polished performances – from such artists one could hardly expect any less. But let’s face it: with so many Vespers around‚ and so many memorable performances to choose from‚ any new recording from an ensemble of this calibre arouses expectations beyond the ordinary. But it is all a bit cautious‚ lacking in fervour (a term I try not to use‚ but what better describes Monteverdi’s sacred music?). With such performances as Savall’s or Parrott’s now available at mid­price‚ this is hard to recommend as a first choice‚ solid though it is. Then again‚ if you have several versions already and the bonus of the Mass is sufficient temptation‚ don’t let these reservations deter you.