All in the April morning, and outside it appears to be hailing: ‘the sheep and their little lambs’ must be frozen. All the more satisfying, then, to draw up to the fire with Sir Hugh Roberton, comfy as a cushion, in melodious, harmonious E flat. And how he would have loved these fresh young voices. ‘Soo gracious, soo musical’, he used to murmur when the audience leant their uncertain voices to a rehearsal of Crimond. The new choir under Michael Brewer may not be quite so expert in the choral portamento as the Glasgow Orpheus used to be, but they sing in that tradition, the first requirement of which is beautiful sound, in tone and blend. Sir Hugh’s arrangements of Scottish folk-songs find a natural home here, the melodies sweet and strong, the hummed accompaniments gentle and affectionate. Those by Vaughan Williams have a more distinctive flavour, and this, too, is well brought out, with feeling for the characteristic rise-and-fall, the sadness lurking close to the heart.
The programme takes a natural half-time break after some more of Sir Hugh, and wakes us from an interval-nap with Morley’s Fyer, fyer and John Bennet’s All creatures now: they make us feel that, compared with the first Elizabethans, we’re never really more than half-awake anyway. The effect of having a choir (even if a relatively small one), rather than single voices, is not what we are used to in these things, but Laudibus have the rhythm of them in their bones and the sense of the words in their heads. Then there are some of the masterpieces among our later part-songs: Elgar’s My love dwelt in a northern land (lovely to hear that magical third verse so well done), Stanford’s The bluebird (with the smoothest of textures and a charming soloist), Warlock’s Corpus Christi and Vaughan Williams’s Tempest settings. And then, in spirit if not in truth, back to Sir Hugh for The long day closes, Sullivan’s patent eye-moistener and the very thing for the fireside. It’s a delightful disc, not ‘significant’ enough for ‘Critics’ Choice’ maybe, but if there was a ‘Critics’ Fancy’ it would be there sure enough.'