And might I add, a perfect day for letting my mind wander.
As I write, it is raining, and ponderings about Venice usually come equipped with water, where of course the city is located. It rains a lot in Venice. There is fog and mist, contributing to the mystery.
To begin, let’s define our terms.
Venetian Vespers sees Paul McCreesh and the Gabrielis attempt to recreate a Vespers service as it might have been celebrated in St Mark’s in the mid-17th century. While Monteverdi is the most significant composer in the programme, the bulk of the disc draws on the work of his colleagues from the Venetian basilica to create a plausibly authentic service.
That’s the Gabrieli Consort & Players, and to be clear, it’s a two-disc set released in 1993. I acquired my copy a few years after that. Once or twice a year since then, this pants-down pagan feels the pull, and the listening begins.
I try to make it a time when both discs can be played all the way through, complete, just as I’d do for Quadrophenia or Tusk (i.e., two of my favorite double albums in the rock canon).
After a quarter-century of listening to Venetian Vespers, I cannot point to a single melody or passage that has stuck with me. In short, this music is mercifully absent ear worms. However, as the more prescient among readers have already guessed, it’s all about the atmospherics. It hits me where my brain tends to reside, this being elsewhere.
As a card-carrying Europhile, this album (and others like it) takes me to a time and place. Time travel is hokum in a corporeal sense, but if I were to have lived in Venice 400 years ago, it’s clear that Roman Catholic services would have been as much of daily life as our rote observances of American patriotism are now.
I suspect that I’d be just as atheistic as always, although more inclined to be close-lipped about it. Things could get “inquisitional” back then, although Venice probably was more tolerant than most.
However, it’s time to pack away the daydreams and get to work. I couldn’t tell you how much money was spent to buy Venetian Vespers those many years ago. I’ve definitely gotten full value from the purchase.
Conflating religious music with an appointment later this evening to meet up with my cousin Don, I’m reminded of 1985.
Euro Pilgrimage ’85, Ch. 5: A critical Mass in Rome — and the famous Pecetto bus incident
