The Birmingham Post isn’t always able to post online everything that I’ve written for its print edition, so – after a suitable time lag (you should really go out and buy the paper!) – I’ll be posting my recent reviews here. As per the print edition, they’re all fairly concise – just 250 words. This is of a performance at the Barber Institute on 28th October 2015.

This day is call’d the feast of Crispian – well, give or take three days, anyway. This Agincourt anniversary celebration was exactly the sort of thing a university concert series should be doing: an evening of vocal music from the reigns of Henry V and VI, painstakingly researched and sung with commitment. With the music grouped to represent different aspects of 15^th century court life, Andrew Kirkman gave knowledgeable and enthusiastic spoken introductions to each section. The printed programme was a model of scholarship and presentation: this concert was clearly a labour of love.

What we heard was almost exclusively sacred, almost exclusively in two parts, and almost entirely scored for six or fewer tenors and counter-tenors. The Binchois Consort excels in this repertoire; the singers’ individual tones make a satisfying contrast with each other rather than blending into a homogenised whole. In music such as the anonymous Chant for St John Of Bridlington, that brought much-needed colour to the monody; in more complex items – a Gloria supposedly written by Henry V himself; and the spirited Sub Arturo plebs – it made the most of the tiny flourishes and harmonic clashes that give this music such expressive power as it possesses.

By any standards, this was a challenging evening – and towards the end, the Consort appeared at one point to break down. The arrival of the Birmingham University Singers for a rousing Agincourt Carol brought the first sound all night of basses or female voices, and by this stage it was a welcome contrast. Kirkman and his singers are obviously devoted to this music, but despite moments of piercing beauty, I left the Barber with an overwhelming urge to find a piano and bash out a perfect cadence – just to reassure myself that such a thing still existed.