I have previously (in relation to Osgood’s Magnificat; see Fanfare 47:6) referred to Clive Osgood’s music as “stimulating fare.” I also welcomed an all-Osgood disc back in 43:5. Somehow it seems right to move on from a Magnificat to a Stabat mater, keeping the Marian line, and here it is. The 20 sections of the text are coupled together, so there are 10 parts to Osgood’s Stabat mater. Recorded at St. Jude’s, Hampstead (London), the sound is true and lush, supporting Osgood’s cushioned harmonies well. The piano sound is well captured as well (an acid test of any recording). 

The Choir of Royal Holloway (a college of the University of London based in Egham, Surrey), has gained fame via its recordings on the Hyperion label. We hear how well balanced their sound is in the opening movement, “Stabat mater dolorosa,” a sort of processional. Flecks of piano offer contrast. A description of the sword passing through Mary’s soul, “Cujus animam,” seems curiously underwhelming here, though. There is indeed a climax at the sword-piercing (“Pertransivit gladius”). 

I must say that Jack Liebeck’s violin sounds absolutely splendid, heartrending in expression, for “O quam tristis,” against a piano background. It leads to the fine soprano solo from Grace Davidson, now against both strings and piano. This music is very heart-on-sleeve: The intertwining of soprano and solo violin is lovely, but the whole is very saccharine sweet. It is true, though, that what is good is a consistency within the composer’s harmonic language and expressive remit. There is space for spiritual depth, as in the “Quis est homo,” a set of six variations that increase in urgency before finding some peace. The finest moment comes with the “Pro peccatis,” a chant on single voices from the choir pitted against almost treble-like soprano solos. This is performed a cappella, with the voices very present in the sound space. While the text of “Eja mater” brings a lightening of texture, and indeed that is reflected in the music, Osgood’s mode of utterance seems too superficial. The “Virgo virginum” is better, with two solo voices (Wilde and Empett) contrasted against a closely miked string quartet (taken from the LMP players). On headphones it sounds too close; I do not have access to a hard copy of the disc. 

The “Fac ut portem” is a kind of mirror of the fifth movement, “Pro peccatis,” and effectively so. Davidson, who is the real star of this release, triumphs in the penultimate “Christe, cum sit hinc,” with her sinewy line moving against the slower choir. I honestly do not think the piano adds anything to this movement; it sounds rather twee as well as redundant. The ninth movement runs, I think, into the 10th (without the disc it is impossible to tell, but the music implies that it should). Osgood melds beauty and depth here, while returning to the music of the work’s opening before a hopeful “Amen” leads us towards the hope of resurrection. 

The true joy of this disc comes from soprano Grace Davidson, whom I found superb in a Toccata release of music by David Braid (Fanfare 36:4); she has previously been a finalist in the renowned London Handel Competition and has been a longstanding member of the respected group The Sixteen. (See Raymond Tuttle’s comments on her contribution to a Handel disc by that group on Signum in Fanfare 42:3.) 

There is nothing revelatory here, nothing that will change the course of your life, but Osgood’s setting of the Stabat mater is clearly deeply considered, if not profound in result. Do seek this out for Grace Davidson’s artistry, though.