John Bull, an early example of the species of virtuoso performer/composer, lived in a time of cultural and political ferment in England. Unlike most of his contemporaries, however, he traveled extensively and became acquainted with the musical styles of other European countries, particularly the Netherlands. One of the composers of the a golden age of English choral and keyboard music that includes Byrd and Tallis, Bull frequently used the "free-voiced" textures that mark the period of transition from Renaissance to early Baroque, yet his sacred music reflects the contrapuntal complexity of J.S. Bach. His intricate plainsong settings and hexachord fantasias for organ also show a continental influence; the virginal music is more English in character, and includes highly ornamented variations and fantasias. Under Bull's influence, the simple melodic style of popular songs and folk tunes became a starting-point for elaborate excursions into keyboard virtuosity; the anthems and multi-part canons are more direct in feeling, and preserve the formal structures of English masters such as Tallis. Bob van Asperen is one of the most famous early music specialists for harpsichord, clavichord, and organ, and is also known as a conductor and musicologist.

John Taverner's accidentally totemic theme is subjected to more wondrous transformations by the likes of Robert Parsons, Henry Purcell and of course Christopher Tye—and inspires new works from Nico Muhly and Gavin Bryars.

The portrait of John Bull on the cover of this two-CD U.S. release gives an idea for the uninitiated of what to expect from the composer's music: it's intense, single-minded, and even a bit demonic (although the hourglass topped with a skull with a bone in its mouth is apparently an alchemical symbol). Bull was, in the words of an unidentified writer quoted by harpsichordist Mahan Esfahani, "the Liszt of the virginals." The most immediately apparent feature of his music is extreme virtuosity, on display especially in the mind-boggling set of variations entitled Walsingham (CD 1, track 8) and in the galliards of the pavan-galliard pairs. But the opposite pole in Bull's style exerts just as strong a pull: he is fascinated by strict polyphony by what would be called harmonic progressions, and by the close study of the implications contained within small musical units. As spectacular in their way as the keyboard fireworks are, the three separate settings of a tune called Why Ask You? on CD 2 are marvelous explorations of compressed musical gestures.

This sensational recital—featuring some of the greatest keyboard music to emerge from these islands—is the perfect vehicle for Mahan Esfahani’s abundant talents. His accompanying booklet notes are an added bonus, guaranteed to inform, illuminate and provoke by turns.

This disc takes us on a whistle-stop tour of English keyboard music in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. The fantasy, pavan and galliard were among the most popular forms of their day. The latter two dance movements were often paired together, and sometimes linked thematically. The pavan, wrote Thomas Morley, was ‘a kind of staide musicke, ordained for grave dauncing’, while the briefer galliard serviced ‘a lighter and more stirring kinde of dauncing’. The most attractive examples here are Bull’s charming John Lumley’s Pavan and Galliard and Byrd’s Pavan ‘Ph. Tregian’ & Galliard, its regal pavan among the disc’s high spots.

Sophie Yates finds the right manner far all these works, the small and unassuming, the intricate and emotionally charged. Her sense of rhythmic flexibility is subtle. Her articulation of simultaneous musical strands - no mean feat even in the simplest of works performed on the virginal - is a delight.

–Fanfare