Intoxicating textures to offset the Lenten penitence: Mother of Mercy – Music for Lent from Harry Christophers & The Sixteen at St Martin in the Fields

Domenico Scarlatti wearing the Order of Santiago by Domingo Antonio Velasco (1738)

Mother of Mercy – Music for Lent: Lotti, Diogo Dias Melgás, João Lourenço Rebelo, Caldara, Domenico Scarlatti: Stabat Mater á 10; The Sixteen, Harry Christophers; St Martin in the Fields
Reviewed 26 March 2026

A rich feast of Lenten music, comparing and contrasting 17th-century Portuguese intensity with Domenico Scarlatti’s dazzling ten-part Stabat Mater in a luxuriant programme full of lesser-known gems

Considering that Lent is a season for penance and reflection, it is somewhat surprising that much of the music associated with the season is rather rich and lush. Some of this is that the intensity of reaction to the events of the Passion seem to have brought out an almost Romantic leaning into the pain, at least in Southern Europe. You suspect that the more northerly Protestant states would be rather more austere.

Harry Christophers and The Sixteen‘s programme, Mother of Mercy – Music for Lent at St Martin in the Fields on 26 March 2026 explored exactly this vein. They opened with the best known work in the programme, Lotti’s Crucifixus á 8 and ended with a work that is, at least, known but not often performed, Domenico Scarlatti’s Stabat Mater á 10 and in between we had music by the Portuguese composers Diogo Dias Melgás (1638-1700) and João Lourenço Rebelo (1610-1661). Thus making a rather rich but varied diet.

We began with Lotti. Despite the fact that Ben Palmer made a terrific disc of Lotti’s sacred music for Delphian way back in 2016 [see my review] which put Lotti’s Crucifixus movements in context, we persist in hearing the music in isolation. But it is stunning. The Sixteen brought out the long sweep of the phrases, the dissonances smoothly progressing and growing in intensity.

Music by Diogo Dias Melgás came next. Much of his music is lost, but he seems to have had a highly distinctive voice. His Popule Meus – Improperia for double choir sets a text used for the Adoration of the Cross on Good Friday. The music is considered and reverent, yet with a sense of intimacy to it, the harmonies open and warm. The majority of the work was written for the two choirs interleaving and answering each other, only coming together for the major moments. Christophers’ performance was unhurried, allowing the music’s luminous intensity to register. Domenico Scarlatti’s Iste confessor was rather simpler and somewhat hymn like. Sung with continuo support from Eligio Luis Quinteiro (theorbo), Thomas Allery (chamber organ) and Joy Smith (harp), the work featured soprano Alexandra Kidgell in charmingly fresh melodic verses answered by the full choir. 

We then returned to Melgás for his Lamentacão de Quinta Feira Santa, the Lamentations of Jeremiah for Holy Thursday which featured a solo quartet of two sopranos, high tenor and baritone (Alexandra Kidgell, Katy Hill, Jeremy Budd, Ben Davies), choir and continuo. Melgás clearly liked beginning with one or two voices and then having a slow build, the solo voices intertwining with the choir in a way which drew out the lusciousness of the harmonies. The sound was rich, warm, intense and completely fabulous. If you had to sit (stand) through and interminable Maundy Thursday service in a cold church then listening to this would be a great consolation. Melgás’s Santa Salve Regina was an unaccompanied motet where the warm openness of the harmony reminded me of Victoria, but then the music became increasingly intense and urgent in a way that was not at all obvious. We ended with another familiar hymn in unfamilar guise, the Panis Angelicus from Rebelo. He was perhaps the first Portuguese composer to study the polychoral works of the Gabrielis, though his Panis Angelicus was an altogether rather proper piece, with rich yet intense polyphony building to dramatic climaxes.

After the interval we had another Crucifixus, this time by Antonio Caldara who grew up in Venice but would spend a lot of his time writing music in Vienna for the Hapsburg emperors. His Crucifixus seems to evoke that of Lotti, but Caldara went one (or perhaps eight) better as the work is in sixteen parts. It was sung by just sixteen singers, who combined beauty of tone with relish for the composer’s handling of aching dissonances. Mobile and flowing it created a rich, continuo-accompanied texture, though Caldara seemed uninterested in enabling the words to come across. This was pure, intense texture.

The programme ended with Scarlatti’s ten-part Stabat Mater sung by a choir of twenty singers. This is a top-heavy ensemble, with four soprano parts, clearly Scarlatti relished the ability to weave these four into transparent magic. The work was written in Rome, before Scarlatti decamped to the Iberian peninsula. He uses his multiple lines to pass short, memorable motifs around to created undulating, rocking motions. There is a rich intensity to the writing, but Scarlatti turns on a pin when it comes to changes in emotion and texture. Some phrases such as ‘Vidi Jesum in tormentis’ are set with such intensity as to be almost word painting. And when considering the Mother as fount of love (‘Eia Mater fons amoris’) the speed slows and the music expands into luscious yet intimate harmonies. Though later intensity of suffering is represented by more vivid, rhythmically urgent music. The later verses featured elaborate solo writing for soprano and tenor solos (Katy Hill and Jeremy Budd) which contrasted with and overlaid the choir, and the whole ended with a surprisingly perky fugue.

This is a fantastic piece, and here it was winningly performed, yet I cannot quite feel it as Liturgical. Perhaps again we need to go back to standing for hours in that cold church and then imagine hearing this wondrous music performed. Creating a bit of magic.