Month: July 2011

Gounod’s Saint Cecilia Mass in lovely performance by Capital Choir

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Capital Choir conducted by Felicia Edgecombe

Gounod’s Messe-solennelle-Sainte-Cécile, and a miscellany of choral songs

Central Baptist Church, Boulcott Street

Tuesday 5 July 7.30pm

I’d only heard about this performance of the most famous of Gounod’s masses a few days earlier and was at once animated by the prospect. Though previous experiences of the choir hardly led me to expect them to tackle a reasonably large-scale liturgical work of this kind, I was excited in anticipation and my hopes were well met.

The concert was dedicated as a benefit for a Christchurch choir with which Capital Choir had made contact – the South Brighton Choral Society, two of their members had been flown to attend the concert, they spoke about their situation  and they returned with a cheque for the balance of the takings. The Christchurch choir is the main choir of the city’s astern suburbs, which have suffered the worst damage from the earthquakes.

Capital Choir is an all-comers’ choir of around 60 voices, mostly sopranos; if there are some voices that would hardly survive in a small ensemble, the skill of their conductor, Felicia Edgecombe, lay in creating a most impressive, homogeneous sound that was balanced and generally in tune.

While I waited for the Gounod, the choir entered singing chant-like the words ‘Viva la musica’, and the first half consisted of a handful of light items: Franck’s Panis angelicus, two songs by conductor Edgecombe and three popular songs – The Girl from Ipanema, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square and When the Saint go Marching in. They were sung with energy and evident enjoyment and it was clear that great pains had been taken to achieve first-rate ensemble, and to created an effect that was warm and opulent; the more problematic male voices, fewer, as usual, in number, were nicely integrated. Vocal production seemed always unforced; what was missing in the last group perhaps was a little of that elusive ability to swing.

They were ably accompanied by the choir’s pianist Belinda Maclean.

By the time the Mass began I was well prepared, as a result of their singing of the near contemporaneous Panis Angelicus, for a performance that would vocally beguile the ears. The Kyrie indeed did that, reassuring me of the choir’s ability to do justice; the soloists were the next question, and the opening page of the Gloria set me at rest for the soprano solo was taken most capably by erstwhile pianist Belinda Maclean whose accompanying duties in the Mass were taken over by Rosemary Russell. (Naturally one missed the orchestra, especially in the instrumental Offertorium, so essentially an orchestral interlude, but the ears soon accept the situation. Nevertheless, it is worth noting that Gounod had scored it for a large orchestra – as well as double woodwinds, it calls for four bassoons and four horns, pairs of trumpets as well as cornets, organ with pedals, and six harps). Baritone Rhys Cocker took a very attractive ‘Domine Deus’ section of the Gloria, followed at the ‘Qui Tollis’ by tenor Chris Berentson whose voice sounded rather tight at first but soon relaxed, notably in his solo at the opening of the Sanctus.

The Credo is the longest section and the one that has been subject to a certain scorn, ‘swaggering’ for one writer, but which seems to me simply a fulsome statement of the composer’s at-that-stage anyway, touching and unclouded belief. The big tune is splendid and the confidence of its performance was infectious.

At the ‘Et incarnatus’, the three soloists take over alone, soon alternating with the choir: here, they did not quite achieve the expected hushed, mystical atmosphere that is called for, though at ‘Crucifixus’ a dramatic quality emerged; then one of the few moments of unsteadiness came with the ‘Crucifixus’. But vigour and confidence recovered fully at ‘Et resurrexit’, which even achieved a certain grandeur.

One has got somewhat used to the Sanctus anthologized by sopranos – notable Kiri – but the tenor is more authentic in a liturgical context, and as I said above, Chris Berentson dealt with it comfortably. It’s a lovely movement, majestic without bombast, and the choir performed it with considerable warmth and emotional variety: well rehearsed.

The Benedictus was the final opportunity for the soprano; with a voice somewhat tremulous, whether incidental or intended, Belinda Maclean’s singing was far from inappropriate at this stage of the mass.

Throughout most of this early work (well, he was about 35 but had not yet made a great mark as composer), Gounod maintains a dignity and authentic expressive power, but in the Agnus Dei he seems to succumb to something that weakens the spiritual atmosphere, breaking up the normal rhythm of the words so as to diminish their sacred import; there is something routine about the melody that takes charge in this movement. As well as the choir continued to sing, they hardly overcame the diminished dignity with which the composer’s first masterpiece concludes. At least it is not prolonged and ends without undue flamboyance.

During much of the 20th century it became fashionable to deprecate Gounod’s works that had been so popular in the mid-19th century, especially, after some of the facts of his life and his character became widely known. In recent decades the balance has been largely restored, not only for  the best of his liturgical works, but more especially the ‘other’ operas such as Sapho, Le médecin malgré lui, Mireille,

The Saint Cecilia Mass had made a real popular impact at its premiere in the great church of St Eustache in November 1855 only six months after the premiere there of Berlioz’s Te Deum. In some parts of Europe, Munich for example, the mass was more esteemed than any of the operas, and it was certainly the composition, preceding Faust by about four years, that brought him emphatically to the attention of the general public.

A quote by his (non-believer) friend (for the most part) Saint-Saëns is interesting:

“The appearance of the Saint Cecilia Mass caused something of a stir. Its simplicity, its grandeur, its serene luminosity rose over the musical world like a dawn, and embarrassed many people… Rays of light emanated in floods from the Mass.”

Concours de la Chanson: second year of splendid initiative

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

French singing competition

Songs by Angelillo et Hamel, Satie, Brel, Berlioz, Duparc, Debussy, Poulenc, Fauré, Delibes

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Sunday, 3 July 2011, 8pm

The commitment of the Alliance Française Wellington to providing a competition for singers continues; the first competition last year gave a platform for some splendid singing of French chanson and mélodie, and Sunday night’s final continued that.

There were fewer finalists in the Chanson Moderne section this year than last year, and of the four, two chose to sings songs by Jacques Brel.

First, we heard Estere Dalton sing Je veux te dire une chanson, by Angelillo et Hamel. Dalton is a confident singer who used a microphone, and was accompanied by Andrew Bruce on the piano. She sang with an Edith Piaf-type voice and delivery. The song included unusual tonalities, nevertheless I thought her intonation suspect at times. My searches on the internet have failed to uncover whether this is one composer or two, however I did discover that the first name is spelt as above, and not as on the printed programme.

Erik Satie’s cabaret song La diva de l’Empire was sung by Angelique McDonald, accompanied by Jonathan Berkahn on piano, but without microphone. This was an attractive voice, but projection was uneven between lower and upper registers. Some gesture was used, but as with the previous singer, it did not appear to have much point.

Daniela-Rosa Young (who, for the second year running, suffered incorrect printing of her name in the first half of the programme), sang Jacques Brel’s Ne me quitte pas most effectively. Her close use of the microphone was just right for this music. She had the style for this song, and created the atmosphere of French nostalgia and regret (despite the title of Edith Piaf’s famous song) right from the beginning. Her words were very good, and she used them, her breath and her face as part of the expression of the music. Sometimes she was sotto voce, at others full voice. A good voice it was, and she was given a very sympathetic accompaniment by Julie Coulson.

The last singer in this section was Kieran Rayner, now quite an experienced singer in a variety of styles. Jacques Brel was his composer of choice also, with the song Amsterdam. He was accompanied on the piano accordion by Jonathan Berkahn, to give that authentic Paris sound. However, either Berkahn was too quiet, or Rayner (with microphone) was too loud; certainly the balance was not right. Some gesture, stamping in time and a beautiful unaccompanied introductory passage all helped to give atmosphere, as did the singer’s spoken introduction to the piece, which was a confident communication compared with those of some of the other singers. I found it a little tiring to be harangued at the volume Rayner chose, but there was no doubt about his commitment to the song.

After a short interval, we heard the classical items. These were French mélodie written in the nineteenth century or since. All were attractive songs, some familiar and some not, but all worth hearing.

The only singer in the finals of both sections was Daniela-Rosa Young, who sang Berlioz’s L’Île Inconnue. While her announcement was a little too quiet, her fine voice was well-produced, and her French enunciation and pronunciation were good. Gestures were rather meaningless, but she did put the meaning into the music and the words to an extent. Julie Coulson was her excellent accompanist, and to all the other singers except one.

Isabella Moore sang the gorgeous L’invitation au voyage by Henri Duparc. It was pleasing to hear her include in her introduction the name of the poet: Baudelaire, and an explanation of the meaning of the poem. Her voice is smooth and she gave good delivery of the words, but there was not enough variation in dynamics in her performance. Although she explained that the word ‘luxury’ featured in the poem, her voice did not convey that feeling when it came.

Bianca Andrew, who was the winner of the chanson section last year, performed De Soir, the fourth song in Debussy’s Proses Lyrique; the composer wrote the poem. Andrew gave a confident, fluent, indeed enthusiastic introduction which sounded spontaneous. She used both words and music well to characterise the meaning of the song. Some meaningful head movements conveyed more than vague hand gestures would have. There was good variety of tone; this was an excellent performance, including Julie Coulson’s playing of a very busy accompaniment.

Mon cadavre est doux comme un gant (My cadaver is as soft as a glove) sounds a pretty macabre title – but then, Poulenc was given to irony and wit. Imogen Thirlwall’s rich, mature voice, after a good spoken introduction, led us into the song, which she invested with meaning. This was a consummate performance.

Next was Bridget Costello with C, a 1943 song setting a poem by Aragon. After a rather formal introduction. which was nevertheless done well, Costello revealed a strong voice with quite a lot of natural vibrato. This was not a particularly demanding song, but it was well sung.

Thomas Atkins followed, with Adieu by Fauré. After a good introduction, Atkins sang most appealingly. He has a lovely voice, and varied it more than did some of the other contestants, doing something with every note and syllable. His French was admirable, but the song was rather a short one.

A song by Delibes followed: Les filles de Cadix, sung by Rose Blake. This was a saucy song. Rose Blake put over both her humorous introduction and the song in a confident, self-possessed manner accompanied by Claire ? Her lively rendition incorporated quite a lot of gesture (meaningful this time). Blake had a pleasing tone; her voice was strong and well produced. The whole was performed with considerable aplomb.

The last performer was Fredi Jones, who sang Fauré’s charming Aprés un Rêve. Following a very good introduction, his singing demonstrated a very effective use of the language, and a light voice, reminiscent of the late great Gérard Souzay. Although he started very well, I felt that further on he could have varied the voice a little more, and lingered more over the ornaments in the melody; they seemed rushed.

There was a good selection of songs from a cross-section of composers. All the songs presented some difficulties. All the contestants had a good command of French pronunciation, and put the words over well.

The prizes offered were the same for each category, i.e. a first, a second and a third prize in each. The first prizes were $2000, plus a master-class at the Conservatoire Musique de Nouvelle Calédonie; second, $500 and one term of free French lessons at the Alliance Française; third, $250 and one term of free lessons at the Alliance. There were a number of sponsors for the Concours, including the French Embassy; the Ambassador spoke briefly at the prize-giving part of the evening.

Judges were experienced New Zealand singer Catherine Pierard, and M. Bruno Zanchetta, Deputy Director of the Conservatoire de Musique de Nouvelle-Calédonie, whose first words were to praise the excellence of Julie Coulson as accompanist.

The placings were: Chanson: 1st Kieran Rayner, 2nd Daniela-Rosa Young, 3rd Estere Dalton; Mélodie: 1st Bianca Andrew, 2nd Rose Blake, 3rd Fredi Jones.

First of a fine series of French symphonic organ works, from Douglas Mews

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

L’Orgue symphonique: French organ music in the symphonic tradition

César Franck: Pièce symphonique, Lento and Sortie from ‘L’organiste’; Chorale No 2 in B minor; Pastorale from ‘Six pièces’; Cantabile and Pièce héroique from ‘Trois pièces’

Douglas Mews at the organ of the
Church of Saint Mary of the Angels

Sunday 3 July, 2.30pm

In a celebration of the legacy of the church’s great organist Maxwell Fernie, Saint Mary’s is presenting three recitals by three organists of French symphonic organ music. This was the first, devoted to the founder of a tradition that set a new path for organ music which continues to
the present day.

It arose through the arrival of a composer whose instincts led him away from the emphasis on opera in the France of the early 19th century, to the rediscovery of the choral music of the Renaissance and Bach and of the German symphonic tradition.

The other contributor to the blossoming of organ music and its performance from around 1850 was the advent of the great organ builder Cavaillé-Coll: Franck was appointed principal organist at the Marais church of Saint-Jean-Saint-François in 1853 where Cavaillé-Coll’s new organ astonished and delighted him. That church is now the Cathédrale-Sainte-Croix-des-Armeniens, and its website records that it houses two organs by Cavaillé-Coll, one of them built in 1844 – certainly the one that Franck played. I have heard chamber music and vocal concerts there but have not heard the organ. 

The programme notes say that he earlier encountered a Cavaillé-Coll organ in the church of Notre Dame de Lorette; that was certainly his first organist post, but it is not clear that the church had a Cavaillé-Coll organ; that church’s website makes no mention of one. In 1858 he became principal organist at the new church of Sainte-Clotilde with its magnificent Cavaillé-Coll instrument and remained there the rest of his life. 

The recital began with three early pieces from a large collection, L’organiste. Pièce symphonique, was an extrovert piece in very four-square military tempo in its outer parts  in which Mews used
suitably brash stops, contrasted with a gentle middle section. The Lento movement and the Sortie were offered no more than hints of the great organ works that were to follow, though Mews’s imaginative registrations made the most of them.

The second of the three Chorales written in his last year was the most important work of the recital. The chorales do not enjoy the strong melodic character of some of his music, and their success depends greatly on the colours that the organist can create from the combinations of stops that he can contrive; Mews familiarity with Maxwell Fernie’s in-some-ways idiosyncratic masterpiece allowed him to move from one phase to the next, from the boisterous to the pastoral to the heroic, with dynamics and colourings that were always immaculate.

The Pastorale of almost 30 years earlier is one of the most familiar of his works – I think my LP including a performance by Jeanne Demessieux was one of the first organ discs I bought aged about 20: I am chastened by Mews’s reference to its being in an ‘easy-listening’ style. Nevertheless, it wears well, especially in such an affectionate, subtle performance.

The ‘Three Pieces’ were written for the inauguration in 1878 of the Cavaillé-Coll organ at the Trocadero (across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower, built ten years later). The Cantabile enjoys a vivid melody on loud reed stops that, like most of Franck’s tunes, ranges over a quite narrow compass. The last item was the Pièce héroique, played with splendid vitality and timbale colour, the raucous pedal stops perhaps a little indiscreet but perhaps intended mocking and undoubtedly arresting. 

As a totally inappropriate aside, it stuck me as odd that in Mews’s well-recorded, 2010  CD in Priory Record’s Great Australasian Organs series, he included no French music in a programme that in itself I find less than interesting, and which to me hardly displays the Wellington Town Hall Organ in the sort of important repertoire that does either player or organ proper justice.

Wellington Chamber Orchestra with Emma Sayers in Mozart

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Debussy: Petite Suite (‘En bateau’, ‘Cortège’, ‘Minuet’, and ‘Ballet’)
Mozart: Piano concerto no.25 in C, K.503 (allegro maestoso; andante; allegretto)
Brahms: Symphony no.2, Op.73 (allegro non troppo; adagio non troppo; allegretto grazioso
(quasi andantino); allegro con spirito) 

Wellington Chamber Orchestra, Emma Sayers (piano), conducted by Kenneth Young

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Sunday, 3 July 2011,2.30pm

Another ambitious programme from Wellington’s major amateur orchestra was this time conducted by a leading and very experienced musician. His encouraging attitude was very apparent, and the orchestra responded well. Although this orchestra is named a chamber orchestra, it more often these days plays works for symphony orchestra, as in this programme.

Debussy’s Petite Suite, originally written for piano in the late 1880s, was arranged for full orchestra by Henri Busser (1872-1973). This delightful work is in four movements, each with music clearly illustrative of its title, the rocking of the boat in the first movement being the most obvious. The marching band in the second reminds the audience that it is a procession (only in English is the word cortège used solely for a funeral procession), while after the lovely minuet, the ballet is of an extremely energetic kind.

The first movement featured interesting and enchanting interplay between harp and flutes, in which a young harpist revealed a high level of competence. Throughout, the music was tuneful, joyous, varied, and unveiled the splendid orchestration. The brass finally got to contribute in the bouncy final movement. The playing was not faultless, but the band gave a good account of this attractive work.

The Mozart piano concerto called for a smaller orchestra, there being no harp, no clarinets, only one flute and fewer strings.

Emma Sayers played strongly, but with plenty of subtlety and light and shade, and a fine, light touch, appropriate for Mozart. At all times she played with clarity, as befits this composer.
The cadenza for the first movement was written by conductor and composer Kenneth Young. He made very appealing use of Mozart’s themes. This cadenza was not showy for the sake of it, but did incorporate some un-Mozartean harmonies to betray its recent origin.
After it, Young gave Sayers an appreciative smile.

In the andante there was much exposed playing for winds. The horns did not always come out of this successfully – a difficult instrument indeed (and presumably even more difficult if the musicians had been playing the valve-less horns of Mozart’s time). The sound was often rather heavy for the rest of the orchestra to compete with. The flute played frequently in concert with the oboes, making a most attractive sound.

While it is good to see children in the audience at an orchestral concert (no doubt they were family members of the players), it is a pity their carers think it necessary to give them sweets with noisy wrappers to rustle when the orchestra is playing something as delicate as the andante in Mozart’s concerto, thus interfering with audience members’ enjoyment.

The winds were able to let fly in the last movement, and they acquitted themselves well.

The final work in this appealing programme was a massive one. Perhaps this great symphony was a little too difficult for the orchestra. Intonation problems struck at the beginning: unfortunately the opening was not the horns’ best moment; later they had some better ones. There were four horns,
three trombones, and tuba. In the louder part of the second movement, and elsewhere, this brass choir was rather too noisy for the rest of the orchestra. The solo oboe theme in the third movement was beautifully played, as was the whole of that movement.

Trombones also had moments of difficulty, but they and the tuba came into their own in the last section of the last movement; they had plenty of power in the fortissimo passages. However, this venue is not really large enough to take the sound of a symphony orchestra playing at that level with modern brass instruments.

All of that said, the work developed well, and the extra strings contributed to a mainly admirable sonority in that department. Details and themes came through well, and syncopation at the end of the first movement and in the second movement was crisp and clear.

It was good to see and hear an amateur orchestra alive and well, and playing fine music. Obviously this was not a performance at professional level, but it was creditable nonetheless. Aberrations of intonation were the main problem; dynamics, themes, rhythm were all well observed, and the concert represented a considerable achievement.

Earthly and Heavenly Delights from the Historical Arts Trust

Posted on by Peter Mechen

LA MUSICA – Sacra II

Earthly Delight, Heavenly Respite

The Historical Arts Trust

Music by CORELLI and HANDEL

Pepe Becker (soprano)

Gregory Squire (baroque violin) / Katrin Eickhorst-Squire (baroque ‘cello) / Douglas Mews (harpsichord)

St. Mary of the Angels Church, Wellington

Saturday 2nd July 2011

Formed in 2010, the Historical Arts Trust was set up by a group of enthusiasts involved in the disciplines of early music, theatre and dance, in order to promote interest in Medieval, Renaissance and baroque music, dance and drama in New Zealand. The aim of the Trust is to present concerts and other events such as workshops and demonstrations which showcase these highly distinctive eras, and will encourage wider awareness and involvement on the part of performers and audiences.

Dimitrios Theodoridis, well-known as a versatile singer with period vocal groups, was appointed the Trust’s first Executive Director, and was instrumental in co-ordinating the group’s first workshop, in April 2011, taken with students from both St.Patrick’s and St.Catherine’s Colleges here in Wellington, and featuring also the talents of musicians Robert Oliver, Brendan O’Donnell and Stephen Pickett. The students were able to experience the authentic sounds of renaissance music and its performance, and discuss what they heard with the musicians.

The group’s first concert, Risurrezione, which took place in May,  got the series, “La Musica”, off to an exciting beginning with the music of Biber, JS Bach and Buxtehyde. The considerable instrumental skills of Gregory Squire, Douglas Mews and Robert Oliver each played a vital part supporting the glorious singing of soprano Pepe Becker and bass David Morriss. It all promised well for the events to follow, and special interest accompanied the first of these, which featured two of the Baroque era’s most spectacular composer/performers, Arcangelo Corelli and Georg Friedrich Handel.

Stories of the rivalry between the two composers, arising from their encounters in Rome, have gone into the realms of musical legend, the most well-known one being Handel’s deliberate placement of a high E in a sonata of his that Corelli was due to perform, after the latter had avowed never to write – or perform – such a note. Despite the resulting stand-off causing a never-to-be-healed breach between the two composers, Handel wasn’t slow to recognize the popular appeal of the “Italian style” and thus adopt his own potent realization of it in his own works. The concert thus gave us a chance to further the “cheek-by-jowl” interaction of the two composers’ music, albeit playing to different respective creative “strengths”, Corelli’s with some of his instrumental sonatas, and Handel with his famous set of German Arias for soprano.

How eloquently the instrumentalists stirred the silences into life with the opening of the first of Corelli’s Op.5 Violin Sonatas! – the Grave opening marvellously punctuated by energized irruptions, the tones held and savored by the church’s grateful ambience. Greg Squire’s violin confidently led the dance, while Katrin Eickhorst-Squire’s ‘cello seemed a more “contained” though always reliable consort. In attendance, too was Douglas Mews’ ever-tasteful continuo, finding a just balance between expression and discretion in support of the violin. For a time, the combination jelled more consistently in the slower movements, during which the instrumentalists conjured up exquisitely-voiced and -balanced sounds; whereas the allegros found the string-playing a touch off-centre in intonation and more wispy in tone than was ideal – as the evening progressed, so did the playing focus more truly and consistently.

Interspersed throughout the concert with Handel’s seven German Arias we heard two further instrumental sonatas from Corelli’s Op.5 – No.9 in A Major made a nice contrast with its secular dance movements as opposed to the opening work’s more formal “churchy’ structure, longish slow movements set against virtuosic allegros and fugues. Particularly noteworthy (excuse the pun) was the performance of the Gavotte from this sonata, decorated busily with running passagework that kept the players on their toes, although the playing never lost sight of the underlying dance rhythms, the ‘cello and harpsichord working as hard as Gregory Squire’s violin throughout this work.

Fittingly, the most famous of the Op. 5 set was also represented, the D Minor Sonata No.12 being a theme and variations on the well-known La Follia. This was a glittering display of music-making form all concerned, very exciting and physical in effect, with the ‘cello given as much to do, it seemed, as the violin. Corelli’s inventiveness seemed unflagging, including many unpredictable and volatile moments, a world of ebb and flow that these performers took unto themselves without hesitation – though the playing wasn’t absolutely note-perfect, it was the energy and drive of the virtuoso irruptions set against the more poised and dignified episodes that triumphantly carried the listener’s attention throughout.

It made excellent musical sense to ring the changes between instrumental and vocal items throughout the evening. Pepe Becker was in her usual fine vocal fettle, though I couldn’t help thinking that, on this showing, her voice seemed in places somehow less comfortable with this repertoire than with the Renaissance and earlier Baroque works we’d recently heard her perform so magnificently. It’s a voice that floats and fills out melismatic contouring with the utmost beauty, of the kind that abounds in more florid music than this – here, in Handel’s more tightly-conceived figurations I noticed a blurring of the coloratura lines exacerbated by the ample acoustic which took away some of the music’s clarity in quicker passages as well as most of the singer’s consonants! Having said this, Becker made some lovely sounds, the opening Süsse Stille particularly successful, especially in the voice’s combination with the instruments. Apart from some sightly uncomfortable intonation at the end of the the aria’s middle section, the following Singe, Seele, Gott sum Preise just as successfully conveyed the music’s essence, energetic and joyful.

In the next bracket of two arias, Flammende Rose was beautifully shaped by the performers, the structure most satisfyingly “built up” by the composer,and rendered here with appropriately sonorous singing and playing. I thought the opening of Künft’ger Zeiten either Kummer (Vain care of times to come) with its low tessitura difficult for the soprano voice, but the succeeding episode featured some exquisite work, with beautifully-held notes from the singer. Two further arias immediately after the interval featured, firstly, Süsser Blumen Ambraflocken (Ambrosial petal of sweet flowers), the singer making up for somewhat blurred articulation throughout by some shining, stratospheric decoration of the penultimate line “I will soar Heavenward and sing praises”, followed by an oddly sombre and agitated setting of In dem Angenehmen Büschenand (In the pleasant thickets), the music sounding more disturbed than tranquil, with an undertow of unrest even through the more settled tones of “Dann erhebt sich in der Brust” (Then in my breast my contented spirit).

Fortunately, the concluding aria Meine Seele made amends, Becker’s voice taking to its exaltations with buoyancy and openness – a lovely, more circumspect moment at “Horen nur, Hark!” placing Creation’s delight in a more thoughtful, metaphysical context, before returning to the leaping joy of “Alles jauchzet, alles lacht” at the end. Delight in the music,in the singing and playing, and in the beauties of the venue (despite the slightly over-generous ambience already alluded to) gave this concert the kind of distinction which did the Historical Arts Trust’s purposes full justice.