THE acclaimed Binchois Consort, hailed not least for its astounding number of recordings on the Hyperion label, is honouring the 550th anniversary of the great Guillaume Dufay (c.1400-75). An almost exact contemporary of Binchois, he was widely upheld as the foremost composer and choral pioneer of his era.

At St Mary’s, Warwick (in a typically fine offering from the series Leamington Music), the consort’s founder (30 years ago next year), Andrew Kirkman, supplied impeccable programme notes elaborating on the complex techniques underlying the 15th-century idiom: isorhythm — the sustained melody, usually in the tenor, with brilliant elaboration; imitation; subtle mirroring; the use of (sometimes secular) pre-existing melodies; even ingenious devising of acrostic.

Kirkman’s unflagging leadership has introduced audiences to a flood of, in some cases, almost “lost” composers. Dufay has fared better. Given his association from boyhood with Cambrai Cathedral, he is classed as north French, although his travels to Italy and employment there (at the Sistine Chapel and elsewhere) were considerable.

This selection Kirkman has devoted to Dufay proved an inspiring beacon, a medley of sacred motets and extracts from Dufay’s proliferation of Masses. Apostolo glorioso was indeed glorious: introducing daring bravura, but fabulous diminuendi, too. The top alto line was arguably a mite too searing, but the shared musicianship was quite marvellous. An early Agnus Dei gained delightfully from its beautifully lilting character. Time and again, Kirkman’s practised team unveiled the originality of Dufay.

In the Mass Missa Resvelliés vous (“Wake up!” — the title denotes an enchanting noble’s marriage song), some fresh-sounding decoration in lower parts was entrancing. The motet Rite majorem Jacobum canamus, fabulously melodious and expressive, gained from impeccably judged brief hiatuses. The single solo period trumpet, supplied by James Savan, lent an innocent tenderness to the vocal sextet.

In another Mass extract (identified as “Anon, English”), the passion showed in every detail, and Kirkman elicited a most perfect balance, just as his singers brought out exquisitely the sensitive word-setting of Dufay’s Mass for St Anthony of Padua. The motet Balsamus et munda cera was pure rapture: time and again, the descent in dynamics to what might be dubbed “quadruple piano” yielded mesmerising effects. The alluring quality of even the most complex structuring again shone through.

There were three remaining items: a Gloria plus Credo, in places appropriately declamatory; a deeply poignant Ave Regina caelorum; and the Agnus from a final Mass, which included a truly thrilling unexpected modal shift.

Dufay looked far ahead. This concert, inspiring throughout, left his supremacy beyond doubt.