This is certainly the most intriguing crossover project I’ve listened to, and the most genuinely inventive. Judge for yourself: this is Palestrina in the style of Bulgarian folk-singing, performed by four women who have that instantly recognizable timbre, wonderfully full and slightly acidic. The credit for this off-the-wall idea is due to the Hungarian composer Ivan Lantos. In order to accommodate the music with the ranges of the four singers, Lantos effectively rearranges the music, overdubbing his own voice several times: often he sings the lower voices of Palestrina’s polyphony, but elsewhere he does stranger things (a whispered mumble on track 9: is this an imaginary celebrant?). Another signal departure from the Urtext is the music’s transmogrification through Bulgarian folk rhythms. This is carefully worked out, though mostly at the expense of Palestrina’s much-vaunted dissonance-treatment. There are other, brief episodes of an instrumental character. The conclusion is that those who found Sergio Vartolo’s vocal experiments with Palestrina on Naxos (9/97) unnerving shouldn’t touch this with a bargepole.
Yet there are several reasons why this weird recording ought to be taken seriously. Most crossover projects involving early music tend to combine it with a more popular contemporary idiom (‘popular’ in the sense of commercially successful), whether straight pop, jazz or the dance music of today. But in this musico-genetic manipulation, both subjects are esoteric (though both are perceived as classics of their respective niches); so ‘dumbing down’, that familiar charge levelled at many crossover projects, is not so easily alleged here. Equally, those inclined to regard crossover as a cynical marketing ploy may have a tough time defending their point of view here: I would guess that Bulgarian music is roughly at level pegging with Palestrina’s in pop music terms – commercially negligible. That’s not to say that artistic integrity should be measured in inverse ratio to commercial viability – but if these particular artists are banking on a hit here, they’re taking a huge gamble.
So it is fascinating that this album is produced and packaged like a pop album. Just listen to the way in which the first soloist has been recorded at the beginning of track 7: the sound image recalls that of many an established female vocalist (a very beautiful voice, by the way). And I’ve already mentioned the pervasive use of multi-tracking. As to the packaging, there are tell-tale signs: few insert-notes, a highly fanciful account of Palestrina’s life (to say nothing of musical history – “the first great exponent of vocal polyphony”?!) and an index that contains the phrase “All tracks composed by Palestrina except ...”. That last point is a little misleading, since Lantos has arranged or composed everything on the disc. More worryingly, the cover itself bears no indication that we have here anything other than a Mass by Palestrina. I hope that those who may have been misled will listen without prejudice.'