John Dowland at 400: the Renaissance master’s enduring appeal
It’s 400 years since his death, but the music of the Renaissance composer and lutenist feels as compelling and contemporary as ever. Edward Breen tells his story, and traces the history of his music on record
There really ought to be such a thing as a national song dispensary. Tucked away at the far end of a floor wax-scented corridor in the sub-basement of an old Victorian library, it would be my ideal job: with a four-colour biro hanging around my neck I would rummage through card index drawers to recommend songs and recordings to anyone in need of musical solace. Be it a Madeleine Dring moment, one of Strauss’s sparkling orchestral Lieder – perhaps the shimmering Die heiligen drei Könige aus Morgenland – or Poulenc ’s cycle Le bestiaire sung by Pierre Bernac, it would be a joy to match every mood with the perfect song (or songs). But what would I listen to myself while tending to the extensive dispensary database? The more I think about it, the more I suspect Dowland would be my most frequent form of self-medication. Why Dowland – that consummate melancholic whose own pun-like work title Semper Dowland semper dolens warns of his continual dolefulness? Sure, there’s inwardness in his lyrics but there’s also a swish and a snap to his galliards and awesome contrapuntal latticework throughout his solo lute music that is easily overshadowed by the Flow, my tears juggernaut that dominated the music history syllabus in my student days.
There really ought to be such a thing as a national song dispensary. Tucked away at the far end of a floor wax-scented corridor in the sub-basement of an old Victorian library, it would be my ideal job: with a four-colour biro hanging around my neck I would rummage through card index drawers to recommend songs and recordings to anyone in need of musical solace. Be it a Madeleine Dring moment, one of Strauss’s sparkling orchestral Lieder – perhaps the shimmering Die heiligen drei Könige aus Morgenland – or Poulenc ’s cycle Le bestiaire sung by Pierre Bernac, it would be a joy to match every mood with the perfect song (or songs). But what would I listen to myself while tending to the extensive dispensary database? The more I think about it, the more I suspect Dowland would be my most frequent form of self-medication. Why Dowland – that consummate melancholic whose own pun-like work title Semper Dowland semper dolens warns of his continual dolefulness? Sure, there’s inwardness in his lyrics but there’s also a swish and a snap to his galliards and awesome contrapuntal latticework throughout his solo lute music that is easily overshadowed by the Flow, my tears juggernaut that dominated the music history syllabus in my student days.
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To read the full text of this article please visit Gramophone.co.uk (March 2026)



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