Richness & austerity: music by Morales & Vivanco alongside Kerensa Briggs & James MacMillan’s settings of John Henry Newman in The Sixteen’s 2026 Choral Pilgrimage

Kerensa Briggs & Harry Christophers at the Old Royal Naval College Chapel, Greenwich  (Photo: The Sixteen)

Lead Kindly Light: Christobal de Morales, Sebastian de Vivanco, James MacMillan, Kerensa Briggs; The Sixteen, Harry Christophers; 2026 Choral Pilgrimage at Old Royal Naval College Chapel, Greenwich
Reviewed 12 May 2026 

Luxuriant richness and lush textures of music from the Spanish Golden Age alongside two contemporary responses to the writings of theologian John Henry Newman as The Sixteen stop off in Greenwich as part of their Choral Pilgrimage 

I have no idea what the theologian John Henry Newman might have thought about the luxuriance of Spanish religious music of the Golden Age. Newman was certainly musical, yet he also thought that music ought to be subservient to religion.

For their 2026 Choral Pilgrimage, Lead Kindly Light, Harry Christophers and The Sixteen have had the intriguing idea of combining two contemporary settings of John Henry Newman by Kerensa Briggs and James MacMillan with music from the Spanish Golden Age by Christobal de Morales and Sebastian de Vivanco. The focal point was Kerensa Brigg’s Lead Kindly Light which was commissioned for this tour and paired with James MacMillan’s Nothing in Vain which was commissioned in 2021 by the Genesis Foundation.

The Choral Pilgrimage began at Southwell Minster on 16 April and continues until 17 October with the final performance at Greyfriars Kirk in Edinburgh. We caught the performance on 12 May at the Old Royal Naval College Chapel, Greenwich.

We began with Christus factus est pro nobis by Sebastian de Vivanco (c1551-1632), whose career was entirely in Spain as he rose to become maestro de capilla in Avila and Salamanca. Christus factus est pro nobis is for three four-part choirs creating an austere yet complex musical structure. The opening with its slow building of lines in imitation grew in richness, though Vivanco delighted in making lines appear and disappear, the texture ebbing and flowing.

Cristobal de Morales (c1500-1553) was somewhat more celebrated, his career spanning Spain and Rome. In Rome, he was in the Papal Choir, but returned to Spain as maestro de capilla in Toledo. His five-part Emendus in melius had a focused intensity to it; the music flowed and the polyphony created remarkable richness. Vivanco’s Assumpta est Maria created a rather special effect here sung by six voices without basses. The result was both light and full of passion, with scalar passages and rhythmic invention livening the textures. There was a restrained sense of exuberance to Morales’ Gaude et Laetare Farrariensis civitas, the piece being written for a service in Ferrara Cathedral celebrating Ippolito II d’Este’s appointment as cardinal. Though gradually the music threw off constraint and worked itself up to richly textured conclusion.

Kerensa Briggs’s Lead Kindly Light sets the text of John Henry Newman’s hymn, with Briggs weaving in also threads from Vaughan Williams’ Dives and Lazarus. The work opened with a solo soprano and solo alto, later joined by the choir with the resulting music having a lovely melodic flow to it with Briggs really enriching the harmonies. The music was unashamedly melodic, with Briggs making harmony and counterpoint flow around this melodic core, enriching and thinning textures in a fluid way. The piece was melodic and approachable, yet rewarding and never simplistic.

The first half finished with Vivanco’s Magnificat octavi toni where Vivanco set the odd numbered verses to polyphony of surprising richness for up to eight voices, contrasting with the even versed plainchant which was vibrantly sung by the tenors and basses. There was a remarkable variety to Vivanco’s invention in the polyphonic passages with moments of real passion. Complexity of texture, number of voices, and rhythms were all varied, yet the music remained its own. It concluded with some wonderful rhythmic excitement in the ‘Gloria patri’ yet we ended with the chant, where we began.

Morales’s Jubilate Deo omnis terra opened the second half with restrained rejoicing and rhythmic liveliness. Written for the Truce of Nice between Francis I of France and Emperor Charles V in 1538, Morales built in a cantus firmus based on the word ‘Gaudeamus’ (let us rejoice). The middle section, ‘O happy age’, was slower and more intense but built to a climax of rhythmic felicity. 

Vivanco’s O quam suavis est, Domine in four parts was built of slow sinuous lines with much use of imitation, the music growing in intensity. Morales’s Exaltata est sancta Dei Genitrix featured rich counterpoint which built to a vibrant climax of surprising passion. The same composer’s Lamentabatur Jacob had long slow lines in austere counterpoint growing with a certain intensity. The second verse, where Jacob prostrates himself before God, built from rhythmic liveliness to intensity.

Vivanco’s Caritas Pater est was a celebration of the Trinity using three three-part choirs (SAB, ATT, STB) with the middle choir (ATT) sung one to a part thus providing some striking textural contrasts. As the three groups interacted, Vivanco created some remarkable textures, and he seemed to relish the way he could interfold the groups, using the full 12-part ensemble only rarely. A piece memorable for striking textures and luscious moments.

We followed this with James MacMillan’s Nothing in Vain. Now I will say from the start that I loved the piece, but it was clear that except for a few moments (Mark Dobell’s tenor solo, the concluding lines) the text was largely unintelligible and you sensed that MacMillan was using it as a source of inspiration rather than any didactic purpose. Rather than clarity of texture we had richness of invention. The piece began from a solo soprano singing MacMillan’s familiar Gaelic chant-inflected music with its characteristic ornaments and MacMillan expanded this to create a highly satisfying choral texture. The work was written for double choir, though moments of choral dialogue were rare, instead MacMillan used his forces to expand and thin the number of lines, ebbing and flowing between complexity and austerity. There were moments of intense anxiety (the work is considering the individual’s relationship to God) and the sopranos were certainly pushed to limits. The end was powerful indeed and here we could hear the words: ‘Nothing in vain’.