Micrologus; David Munrow

81-15 IN MEMORIAM: DAVID MUNROW

“David Munrow did not just emerge into the field of medieval and renaissance music. He exploded into it.” Those are the words of Sir Anthony Lewis, principal of the Royal Academy of Music in London, and spoken after Munrow's death on May 15th, 1976, just five years ago now, at the age of only 32, and after less than ten years as founder and director of the Early Music Consort of London, David Munrow took his own life. He enriched the lives of thousands of music lovers on both sides of the Atlantic through his concert tours. His more than 20 recordings, by my count, his music for films, among which are the widely acclaimed films for the BBC, the Six Wives of Henry VIII and Elizabeth R, and his radio programs, which unfortunately have been heard only in England. In a period of only five years, he produced 655 radio programs for the BBC. After his death, a number of his colleagues published tributes in Early Music magazine, which is the most prominent journal of the early music world.

I'm going to quote at length from the one written by John Willan, who was for many years Munrow's recording producer at EMI. It deals only partially with Munrow's expertise as a musician and director, but it gives what I think is an essential insight into his character, the enthusiasm and the energy.

“It can only have been a few weeks after I started working with David in the studio that he discovered I had a large sailing boat. ‘Have you got a diary?’ asked Munrow. And shortly afterwards he had booked himself a sailing weekend. No, I thought it rather unlikely that someone so much involved with krummhorns and Henry VIII would be much use on a boat. I was somewhat surprised, therefore, when David appeared at the appointed time and place, dressed in an inflatable anorak, khaki shorts, plimsoll, and with a large rucksack on his back, having nearly capsized my dinghy with his enthusiasm. He leapt on board my boat with the agility of an Olympic rock climber, and disappeared below.

“Half an hour later, I was tucking into the first ‘Munrow meals afloat’. David refused to accept that the fare on board should be of a quality less than that available in a good London restaurant, and his cooking will be sorely missed.

“I will never forgive him for running my boat aground, for insisting on using the spinnaker in a Force 6 [gale] while trying to enter the midway and avoid a sunken ammunition ship and a large tanker. I will never forgive him for leaping off the stern deck into my dinghy with a saucepan in his hand whilst doing six knots at sea in a stiff breeze after someone had idly remarked that it needed bailing. I shall always remember the sinking feeling as I watched David and Anorak disappearing up the mast to free a halyard whilst the boat was rolling 30 degrees from the vertical.

“In the studio. David's expertise as a musician rather excelled his skill as a sailor. His efficiency and attention to detail was as constant as his musicianship and virtuosity. These things were only surpassed by his boundless energy and enthusiasm, which gripped everyone on a session. I never saw him lose his temper except with himself, and he never failed to praise his artists and encourage them if they were a little despondent. He organized his sessions down to the last semi-quaver. He arrived an hour and a half before a session and set out everyone's music stands, chairs and music, always knowing precisely what he wanted. At a playback last week, he said to me, ‘You know, John, the essence of recording this type of repertoire is a good program and a good producer’. How typical of him to omit the one vital ingredient: himself.”

We're going to listen to a selection from a three-record set which was issued posthumously. It's entitled Music of the Gothic Era and contains organa of the Notre Dame School and motets of the 13th and 14th centuries. The selection we'll hear is from the four-part organum, “Viderunt Omnes” by the Parisian master, Perotin.

[MUSIC: “Viderunt Omnes” by the Notre Dame composer, Perotin, performed by the Early Music Consort of London, directed by David Munrow]

Munrow, of course, was known primarily as an instrumentalist, but it’s said that in rehearsals and recording sessions, he gave great deference to singers. No singer, I'm certain, would have enjoyed more deference than James Bowman, whose countertenor voice, since he was the only regular singer with the Early Music Consort of London, became the vocal trademark of that group. In the next selection, we’ll hear Bowman joined by tenor, Martyn Hill, in the first verse of Dufay’s famous chanson, “Se la face ay pale.” This is followed by a four-part instrumental version of the same piece. These are from a disc which Munrow issued marking the 500th anniversary of Dufay’s death, so it's appropriate that we hear them on this program marking the fifth anniversary of David Munrow's passing.

[MUSIC: The first verse of Dufay’s “Se la face ay pale,” and a four-part instrumental version of the same piece, performed by the Early Music Consort of London, directed by David Munrow]

Next, we get a chance to hear Munrow as an instrumental soloist. He performs a shawm part in a piece entitled “Falla con misuras,” which is a basse dance from the 15th century, in an improvisatory style.

[MUSIC: The 15th century basse dance “Falla con misuras,” performed by David Munrow and the Early Music Consort of London]

While audiences obviously appreciated David Munrow's virtuosic solo playing, nothing seemed to delight them more, in my experience, than the zestful consort dance performances, such as the one for three krummhorns and racket, which we're going to listen to shortly. Chances are that ensembles such as this weren't heard very often in the Renaissance, but no one was about to argue with the rich, reedy sound and the new standards of ensemble-playing and tuning which Munrow produced. We'll listen to two dances, The Danse du Roy and the Ronde from the 1551 Danserye collection.

[MUSIC]

That was, by the way, Munrow himself thundering away with obvious relish on the bass part, playing a racket.

I mentioned earlier that there was a three-record set music of the Gothic era, which was issued posthumously. That's one of a number of multi-record sets which David Munrow issued during his lifetime and some of which appeared also after his death. These recordings provided me with literally hundreds of selections to choose from, and obviously trying to choose something representative for this program was a difficult task indeed.

The next thing we're going to listen to is from the Gloria movement of the Missa “Et ecce terrae motus,” by Antoine Brumel. The special reason for choosing this is that many of the singers who worked with Munrow chose to mark the fifth anniversary of his passing with a performance of this complete mass. The work itself is impressive and unique for its time, by virtue of the 12-part writing throughout. We'll hear from the “Qui tollis" to the end of the movement.

[MUSIC: The final part of the Gloria movement from the Missa “Et ecce terrae motus” (And behold, the earth moved), by Antoine Brumel]

The last selection on today's program was certainly the easiest one to choose: two Courantes by Samuel Voeckel, late 16th or early 17th century German composer. They're performed on four shawms and side drum. The significant thing about the performance— and it's a circumstance made possible by the wonders of modern technology— is that all four shawms are played by David Munrow.

[MUSIC: two Courantes by Samuel Voeckel, performed by David Munrow on four shawms, assisted by David Corkhill on side drum]

This program has been a tribute to the magnificent contribution made by David Munrow and marks the fifth anniversary of his passing.

One final note. The theme music from Micrologus is the Istanpita Tre fontane from Munro's multi-record set, The Art of Courtly Love. It holds a special significance for me because, just two weeks before he died, I heard David Munrow perform this piece with a boundless energy and enthusiasm which seemed to symbolize his whole being, and which most of us somehow thought, would last forever.