CD: Harry Christophers/The Sixteen: A Mother's Love: Music for Mary

"Who are The Sixteen Harry Christophers?"

It sounds like the response to a clue on Jeopardy! But that was precisely the question put to me, quite sincerely, by an understandably confused customer at the classical music browser one day. Blame the CD cover design, blame the name of the choir, blame that infernal -s at the end of the conductor's surname.

The answer, of course, is that there is only one Harry Christophers, and it's his job to lead the choral and period-instrument ensemble known throughout Britain, and the world, as The Sixteen.

It is the choir, which blends male and female adult voices, including male altos, in which I'm particularly interested here. Classical music fans, particularly those who are seriously into choral music, are likely familiar with this popular ensemble.

But there is a twist. Beginning in 2000, The Sixteen have made an annual Choral Pilgrimage to various cathedrals, abbeys, and churches in the United Kingdom, performing the works of early music composers. This year's pilgrimage will focus on composers of the Tudor era.

Yes, The Sixteen come from the English vocal tradition and are known for their purity of tone, crisp diction, reverent yet impassioned interpretation of medieval and Renaissance works, but that is hardly the entire story. They are also very much at home with the composers of subsequent eras: early Classical, Romantic, 20th century. If their repertoire includes plainsong and Renaissance polyphony, it also finds a place for Britten, Faure, and the contemporary composer Margaret Rizza.

And that's precisely what they are about with A Mother's Love: Music for Mary.

A word about that title: despite my musical and church background, I was a bit nervous when I saw the album cover. Oh, the flashbacks to treacly parochial school renditions of "The Lourdes Hymn," rows of votive candles arrayed before painted statues, and of course backyard shrines somewhere in Cheektowaga, New York -- not that there's anything wrong with those things.

A few moments of listening to the performances dispelled those memories. Despite its sentimental title, A Mother's Love is something more powerful, more robust, more universal, and ultimately more moving than I had expected: a century-spanning selection of music inspired by Mary of Nazareth. If you love choral music, particularly Renaissance polyphony and medieval plainsong, this is for you. If you enjoy the beauty of the human voice and seek inspiration of any kind, this has your name on it as well.

The Sixteen had taken up the Marian theme before this, with a reverent yet joyous album entitled Devotion to Our Lady, comprised entirely of liturgical music from Tomas Luis de Victoria. A Mother's Love is no less rooted in prayer and meditation, but it is closer to a thematic album than a choral mass. The texts span the centuries, and are recurring -- for example, there are multiple settings of Ave Maria and Ave Maris Stella -- but the effect is exhilarating rather than repetitious.

There are shimmering interpretations of works from the Renaissance, not only Josquin and Palestrina but also Cornysh, Lassus, and Obrecht, as well as a lively reading of the medieval Alma Redemptoris Mater. Note that macaronic text (i.e., in Latin and the vernacular).

Another surprise for me was discovering that both Edward Elgar and Edvard Grieg, the Briton and the Scandinavian, had composed works on a Marian theme. Grieg's Ave Maris Stella typically shows up on Christmas albums and is a most welcome surprise here, as is the Elgar Ave Maria.

The album showcases, as I said, a stunning diversity of composers from across the eras: Durufle, Faure, Liszt, Mendelssohn. One of the jewels here is the early Benjamin Britten composition "A Hymn to the Virgin," and there is an actual world premiere performance as well, Margaret Rizza's Ave Generosa, written according to the Taize tradition.

The texts range from Scripture passages to traditional prayers. Surprisingly, verses from the famously sensuous Song of Solomon turn up, notably in Palestrina's Sicut Lilium Inter Spinas, but this reflects a meditation on spiritual beauty and purity, as embodied in Mary's commitment to the will of God.

I've often thought the figure of Mary of Nazareth was oversentimentalized and misunderstood, and as I set to thinking about this week's blog -- coincidentally, right around the Catholic Church's Feast of the Annunciation, which marks the angel Gabriel's visit to Mary -- a veritable bookshelf full of titles came back to me: Rosemary Mahoney's The Singular Pilgrim, Caryll Houselander's The Reed of God, Ann Johnson's Miryam of Nazareth, all of which touch on Marian themes as a means to press onward to universal issues of grace, the spiritual journey, and human interconnectedness.

Houselander, writing during World ar II, particularly understood that images from the Scriptures are often reflected in modern life, that Mary and Joseph fleeing with the infant Jesus have their parallel in every refugee family displaced by war and persecution. If she were writing today, she'd be able to see the sacred within the sorrows depicted each day in our media.

And the Mary of the Gospels and tradition has long epitomized the reflective soul on a journey of sorrow and joy.