On a quiet Wednesday evening in the lush gardens of Jnan Sbil in Fez, the pure, crystalline voices of the Swiss vocal group Zenaida filled the air with haunting precision. As part of the 28th edition of the World Sacred Music Festival, the eight singers, all hailing from Basel, brought new life to the intricate Franco-Flemish polyphony of the Renaissance.
Their program focused on sacred compositions from the 15th and 16th centuries, highlighting the work of Josquin Desprez, Pierre de la Rue, and Jean Mouton. Rather than simply paying homage to the past, Zenaida offered something far more immersive: a journey into the soundscapes and vocal traditions of a bygone era. The selection ranged from sacred masses and motets to a Dutch song, all performed with an intensity that was both solemn and intimate.
Zenaida’s singers are alumni of the AVES program at the prestigious Schola Cantorum Basiliensis, and their shared commitment to historical accuracy shapes every aspect of their performance. In keeping with Renaissance practice, they sang from a single facsimile score placed centrally before them. There was no conductor, no overt cues—only shared breath, acute listening, and deeply internalized lines guiding the ensemble’s unity. The result was a carefully calibrated vocal blend where every voice found its precise place.
Gathered tightly around the stand, the group delivered an unflinching a cappella performance—dense with emotion, yet vividly alive. Tenor Raphaël Joanne described their approach as an effort to get as close as possible to how this music was originally performed: “We all read from the same book, with each line inscribed within it. That demands absolute mastery of your own part, and an ever-present awareness of the whole.”
Though still a relatively young ensemble, Zenaida has already made clear its artistic direction. Following past projects exploring biblical lamentations and Florentine court music, the group continues to delve into early repertoires with a level of discipline that reveals their enduring relevance.
In Fez, there were no microphones, no effects—only the raw power of the human voice. Their sound carved through the stillness of the garden, fragile yet precise, forming a sonic landscape that felt at once ancient and immediate. In that moment, the performance reminded the audience that sacred music isn’t solely a matter of faith. It’s also a demanding art form, where restraint, rigor, and breath itself become instruments of expression.
