Musica Sacra at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre

By WILLIAM DART

There was almost no room in the church, despite extra seats covering most of the pewless areas. So popular was this programme of Passiontide music and readings, devised and conducted by the indefatigable Indra Hughes, that it was a matter of standing-room only for latecomers.

Music Sacra did not spare themselves with some extremely demanding repertoire. The most taxing was William Byrd's gripping Infelix Ego, setting a text written by the religious reformer Savonarola on the eve of his execution.

This 15-minute work was admirably carried off, with only the occasional softening of focus through the odd tentative entry and a tendency to shrillness in the soprano line.

These musicians were not afraid to sing out lustily when required in Purcell and Battishill, or give every chord in John Wells' Drop, Drop, Slow Tears its considered weight and attention.

Bruckner's Christus Factus Est, apart from a perilous bass moment, revealed the group's well-honed ensemble and tonal range, from rousing crescendos to feather-light pianissimi.

The highlight of the evening was David Griffiths' The Servant, a setting of the prophetic scriptures of Isaiah, some of which are familiar from Handel's Messiah. Scored for soloists, choir and two string quartets, this is a major work.

Griffiths' score is alive with subtle interplays and exchanges between various voices and instruments. The word setting is finely thought out and the composer is not afraid to burst out in the brightest of E majors.

Although some harmonic progressions give a nod to Philip Glass, there is also a glowing kinship with Vaughan Williams in the inventive handling of the rich string textures.

The choir was full-bodied but the soloists were uneven. Tenor Iain Tetley sang the lamb to its slaughter with a quite terrifying resolve, and the redoubtable Margo Knightbridge, following in that proud tradition of oratorio altos founded by Dame Clara Butt, clearly relished the march tune that Griffiths had given her.

The closing number, a serene When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, without the over-fussy harmonisations that had marred an earlier hymn-tune offering, was the perfect leave-taking.