Well, going back a bit, musicologists have often described Ockeghem’s music as being seamless, otherworldly—phrases like this—and although in certain circumstances I think they’re correct, I think also that Ockeghem’s music is rhetorical; there are obvious paragraphing moments in his music. Even in a mass like the Missa Mi-mi which is considered to be the most seamless, it seems to me that there are obvious moments where the declamation of the words is paramount. One such moment that springs to mind immediately is at the beginning of the Gloria, where after the opening point we have a setting of “Laudamus te,” with everyone in homophony and exactly the same rhythm. It’s immediately a very dramatic rhetorical moment at which text declamation is very important, so Ockeghem is certainly not a composer of simply pure, abstract music.

“The way people should approach Ockeghem—and the Missa prolationum is as good a place to start as any—is to forget about the canons, forget about the cleverness. Sit back and just enjoy the sonority. Having started to appreciate the eccentric and beautiful ways in which Ockeghem’s music moves, then an understanding of the technical aspects of the music, fills out one’s appreciation of it. But it doesn’t create it”.

I think what I’m also getting at here is a more personal question. You are the son of a clergyman, so do you personally approach this music from a spiritual angle? I know there are a lot of early music performers who perform sacred works who don’t. Does it have importance for you?

No, it doesn’t. In fact, if you were to accompany me to church on a Sunday morning, you’d find me probably going to a church that doesn’t have music. That’s not my primary concern. Having said that, I’m a practising Christian so I sympathise with the spirit of devotional texts.

But surely that must make some difference to your interpretation, to the way you approach the music?