Fretwork, the fine English viol consort, has recorded a selection from Petrucci’s first three collections, Odhecaton A, Canti B and Canti C (1503/4) that demonstrates how effective the viols are in bringing this music to life. (Harmonia Mundi HMU 907291, 2001). This recording is a major accomplishment. The viols, to judge by both their timbre and appearance in Fretwork’s group photo, but not by any comment to be found in the notes, are reconstructions of sixteenth-century instruments. They appear to be modeled on Venetian instruments such as those made by Antonio and Battista Ciciliano, viols much like one portrayed in a tempera painting by Bernardo Zenale in Santa Maria di Brera in Milan (1508). Wendy Gillespie confirmed that the ensemble plays on two tenors pitched in A minor, two basses in D and a big bass in A commissioned from Henner Harders. These have gut strings throughout and no sound posts, which give a particular color to the timbre of these instruments. Their tonal qualities contrast with one another as well as being quite different from the familiar sound of seventeenth-century English viols. In four-part music the tenor line is played on an instrument that could be described as nasal, or as having prominent high overtones, to be more polite. The treble has an expressive range of dynamics, and a full sound, helped a bit by the discrete vibrato used by its player from time to time. The alto part sounds a bit smoother, and the bass, more the sound we might expect from a later instrument, speaks with authority in the lower register. Ms. Gillespie comments that all the instruments are surprisingly resonant despite having no sound posts.

In the fifteenth-century counterpoint of the Odhecaton’s repertoire the individual parts have a somewhat hierarchical relationship. The tenor part is the organizing voice; it clearly outlines the modal structure and makes authoritative cadences by its step-wise descent to the modal finalis. The soprano (also called superius or cantus) is next in the hierarchy, it forms a duet with the tenor and usually rises one tone to the octave of the tenor’s finalis. The other two parts, as cleverly made and as interesting as they may be, only fill out the texture and harmony. Above the tenor is the contratenor altus (how else could it be given the name ‘high’?) and below it is the contratenor bassus.

Fretwork’s performance is beautifully nuanced and clearly illuminates each melodic shape. These are miniatures; few of them are longer than three minutes and many are less than two. Each is intense and states its emotional message succinctly, so that the listener must be fully attentive and perhaps should pause between compositions to reflect rather than rush on and overwhelm the senses.