Author: Rosemary Collier

Breaking the song recital drought with a fine, adventurous recital of unfamiliar songs by great composers

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Songbook: ‘Stormy Weather’; songs of the wind

Songs by Wolf, Massenet, Poulenc, Vaughan Williams, George Crumb, Lilburn, Copland, Gurney, Brahms, Rimsky-Korsakov, Frank Bridge, Debussy, Schubert, R. Strauss, Schoenberg, Fernando Sor.

Barbara Paterson and Barbara Graham (sopranos), Elisabeth Harris (mezzo-soprano), Ben Reason (baritone), Simon Brew (saxophone), Catherine Norton (piano)

Adam Concert Room, New Zealand School of Music

Friday 1 April 2016, 7.30pm

Another concert by Songbook, mainly featuring different singers from those in the concert I reviewed favourably last June. The laudatory remarks I made then apply again. Despite the theme, which may have seemed appropriate for Wellington (there was little wind at that stage of the evening, though some light rain), there was huge variety in the programme, not least in the length of the songs, from very short to quite long. The concert attracted a good-sized audience, including numerous singers.

It was a well-constructed programme (would such a concert have been possible pre-Google?) that held the attention throughout. Of the 18 songs presented, three were by Wolf, being settings of poems by Eduard Mörike. Other items were ‘one-offs”. Even Schubert was only represented once. It was splendid to hear a concert consisting of so many unfamiliar songs by leading composers.

Again for this concert, the printed programme had all the words and English translations clearly printed in fine type-faces on quality paper, and dates for composers and poets were given. (I’m horrified that CD booklets do not always give the dates, or poets’ names, even for recordings of famous singers.)

To open the programme, Barbara Paterson sang ‘Lied vom Winde’ by Wolf. It was an exciting song, and given an exciting and accomplished performance by both musicians. The accompaniment Catherine Norton played was quite astonishingly demanding and brilliant. Barbara Graham was up next, singing ‘Pirouchette’ by Jules Massenet, a conversation between a little girl and an unknown person, about the Mistral wind. This was another lively song – the evening’s winds were certainly speedy, so far! It was a wonderful performance, with subtlety and Barbara Graham’s accomplishment in the French language was a delight that continued in the next song, Poulenc’s ‘Air vif’, that lived up to its name.

We then heard from Ben Reason, a younger singer. He has a good, strong voice, but perhaps could have been a little more contemplative in his rendering of Vaughan Williams’s ‘On Wenlock Edge’. The Adam Concert Room is quite a small auditorium; full voice can be a little hard on the ears. Another little point: the way he sang the short ‘i’ vowel, as in ‘it’ and ‘in’, is rather ugly.

Elisabeth Harris sings better each time I hear her, and the George Crumb song ‘Wind Elegy’ suited her voice; she used the words beautifully. Lilburn’s setting of James K. Baxter’s ‘Blow, wind of fruitfulness’ was sung by Ben Reason, accompanied by piano and saxophone (the original setting is for viola), the latter played by Simon Brew. Ben’s tone was pleasing, though the ‘i’ sound again was not quite right in the word ‘wind’. It was a tasteful, interesting and attractive saxophone part. The music sympathetically set Baxter’s marvellous poem, and all the words were very clear, as they were from the other singers throughout the evening.

Barbara Paterson returned to sing Aaron Copland’s ‘There came a wind like a bugle’. From here on, music scores were used for most of the performances. This was very understandable in this case; the music was all over the place in this setting of words by Emily Dickinson. The singer coped well. (Sorry!) ‘Black Stitchel’ by Ivor Gurney was sung by Ben Reason. I would have liked a slightly lighter manner of rendition for this song, from both voice and piano, even though some of the words (by Wilfrid W. Gibson) were quite serious. Again, the singing was overblown at times for this venue.

‘Geistliches Wiegenlied’ by Brahms is a lullaby of Spanish origin, in which the poet (the German Emanuel Geibel) exhorts the wind to be still, because the child is sleeping. The translation was beautiful. Elisabeth Harris sang it, with saxophone obbligato (again, the original was viola). She displayed excellent control of dynamics, and her words were very clearly pronounced. The saxophone was played sensitively, with subtlety appropriate to the theme.

Now for some Russian music; Barbara Paterson sang the language well and confidently, in Rimsky-Korsakov’s ‘It was not the wind’; words by Tolstoy. It was a very touching song. A short song ‘Far, far from each other’ by Frank Bridge sung by Elisabeth Harris featured the saxophone (viola) again. It was attractively considered, with meaning given to both words and music.

Barbara Paterson returned with ‘An eine Aeolsharfe” by Wolf. The Aeolian harp was effectively conveyed in the music, which was given dramatic variation by the singer. It ended with a lovely piano postlude. A short Debussy song, ‘Zéphyr – Triolet à Philis’ received from Barbara Graham excellent treatment of the language, and a lively interpretation.

Schubert’s appearance in the programme was with ‘Suleika’, sung by Barbara Paterson. The busy accompaniment underlined the theme of the wind; the song was full of character. The next song (from the same singer) was ‘Begegnung’ by Wolf, who seems to have written a lot of songs about weather.

Strauss tackled the weather, too, with ‘Schlechtes Wetter’, a poem by Heinrich Heine, sung by Barbara Graham. Her low notes in this song were very good; the charming nature of the song was highlighted by the piano accompaniment, especially at the end. Schoenberg may not be particularly noted for his songs, but ‘Einfältiges Lied’ was an amusing song about a king going for a walk. Barbara Graham emphasised its humorous nature, singing it with exaggerated drama, not least in her facial expressions.

Finally, the three women sang an arrangement of a Spanish song by Fernando Sor: ‘Cuantas naves’, or ‘How many ships. This was a light-hearted end to a fine concert of song. Catherine Norton’s accompaniments were simply outstanding. Thank you, Catherine, for giving us another song recital, breaking the drought there has been in this genre for years. (Time was when we had such recitals in the Festival!) Bravo Songbook!

A richly-informed austerity – music by Heinrich Schütz, from the Tudor Consort

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Heinrich Schütz: Musikalische Exequien (Funeral Music), SWV 279-281
Matthäus-Passion (St. Matthew Passion), SWV 479

The Tudor Consort, conducted by Peter Walls
Soloists: John Beaglehole (tenor), Simon Christie (bass-baritone), with Corinna Connor (cello), Jonathan Berkahn (harpsichord), Michael Stewart (organ)

Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul

Saturday, 25 March 2016, 7.30pm

Heinrich Schütz (1585-1672) is perhaps largely known as a precursor of J.S. Bach, in the development of baroque music. Peter Walls, in his pre-concert talk, referred quite extensively to Johann Sebastian. Thus it came as quite a shock to discover how different Schütz’s music was from that of Bach. Schütz was born a hundred years before the great master, and like him, was involved in music for the Lutheran Church, despite his training with Giovanni Gabrieli in Venice, and later with Monteverdi. He spent much of his life employed as a musician at the court in Dresden, and it was for a nobleman at that court that he wrote the Musikalishce Exequien – commissioned during that person’s lifetime and completed with his approval of the settings.

The work is in three parts. The first, a concerto in the form of a German burial Mass consisted of Kyrie and Gloria in paraphrases in the German language, but with other texts incorporated in the Kyrie. The Gloria used chorales in addition to the Biblical texts. The second part was a Motet, ‘Lord, if I have but thee’, and the third, the Song of Simeon: Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace’, both sung in German.

The choir sang on this occasion from a position directly in front of the altar. This made it impossible for those of the audience seated in the nave to see them. No-one had told me, as some of those in the audience that I spoke to had been told, that the extra seating in the choir stalls section of the church was not only for the talk, but also for the performance. It would have been a much more involving experience to have been sitting nearer the choir. Since the church was very well filled, this would have affected others more than it did me.

The English translations of the words of the works performed were shown on a screen placed in the choir stalls. I could read the words (just) but those on the right side of the church, or further back than perhaps the eight or ninth rows would not have been able to (I sat in the fourth row). One problem was that the screen needed to be hoisted a good deal higher for those in the nave to be able to read the lower lines, though admittedly that would have been somewhat neck-craning for those closer.

The Funeral Music was accompanied by cello, harpsichord and organ (Peter Walls said that Schütz would have had a larger orchestra). I could usually hear the cello, seldom the harpsichord but usually the organ. This was a ‘house’ organ, borrowed from Mark Whitfield, Bishop of the Lutheran Church of New Zealand. It had an attractive sound, but in the main, that sound was rather muffled, probably due to the number of bodies between it and the nave.

A solo voice sang the introit, then all joined in, but that voice continued to be rather prominent for a time. When the women’s voices joined in the sound became much more resonant. The position chosen meant the acoustics of the cathedral were not delivered to their full effect. The result was greater clarity; both choir and solo voices were very fine, with splendid tone. There were a few notes off the mark soon after the beginning, but these were few indeed amongst such a plethora of near-virtuoso singing; I heard no more intonation wobbles.

The louder passages from the choir, and indeed from the soloists, were very striking. The motet was more of a solid choral piece, with echo passages and plenty of counterpoint (though less chromatic than Bach’s motets). The third part involved three soloists in addition to the choir; they sang from the Cathedral’s organ loft, under Schütz’s instruction that they should be elsewhere than near the choir. (How did they read their scores in the darkened church, away from the lighting?)

After the interval came the Passion. This was sung in German, unaccompanied, and only the opening and closing choruses, short compared with Bach’s in his Passions, deviated from the Biblical text. Apart from those two choruses, the work consisted of tenor recitatives expounding the texts, solos from Jesus (Simon Christie), and solo voices from the choir interjecting with the words of Peter, Pilate, Caiaphas, Judas, false witnesses, scribes elders, and the servants of the Chief Priest, plus the choir singing as the mob. These added vocal variety; no chorales or arias were included.

Having the English words on the screen assisted greatly in following the story. Some of the recitative sections were quite lengthy, for example the section covering the Last Supper and the arrest of Jesus, plus his interrogation before the Chief Priest. Since the singers could not be seen, this was at times an endurance test, given the hard seats.

However, all the soloists and the choir introduced variety and drama. Schütz hasn’t the drama of Bach, which is not to say that his St. Matthew Passion is devoid of drama, but Bach’s word-setting is without peer in this genre. Bach Collegium of Japan’s St. John Passion from the 2014 New Zealand Festival was on the radio earlier in the day, making it difficult to switch to the more restrained, plain style adopted by Schütz in his later years (as Wikipedia says, his style became simple and almost austere, but against this, he had sensitivity to the accents and meaning of the text). In particular I enjoyed (as did another listener, who asked for a repeat of this chorus) Bach’s setting of the words describing the Roman soldiers betting for Jesus’s garment; the cross-rhythms surely reflecting gambling’s unpredictable uncertainty.

Schütz’s work had more drama than the music heard in the first half, but on the other hand this was less underlined, being unaccompanied. This was a Passion in the original sense of the word, but not passionate in the modern sense. Schütz used word-painting, emotion and drama also, but of a more subtle and restrained kind, on the whole. The opening chorus featured lovely suspensions, between sumptuous chords.

The choir was effective and disciplined, their passages beautifully phrased. John Beaglehole (his performance a tour de force) and Simon Christie were characterful and accomplished; their voices, also those of the choir, carried well. Both intensity and grief were there in Christie’s tone in uttering the words from the cross. The words ‘Truly this was the Son of God’ were set with beauty and subtlety (as in Bach’s Passion). The final chorus was plaintively anguished, before a long drawn-out cry; the work ended with the Latin Kyrie, sung in an unaffected manner. It had an interesting and unexpected harmonic twist in the final chords.

It was distracting to see a young man in front of me making a video recording of much of the performance in video form, on his cellphone.

Popular trios from NZSO players at St Andrew’s at lunchtime

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Haydn: Piano Trio in G, Hob.XV:25 “Gypsy”

Mendelssohn: Piano Trio in D minor, Op.49

Koru Trio: Anne Loeser (violin), Sally Isaac (cello), Rachel Thomson (piano)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 23 March 2016, 12:15pm

Here was a dream team – two string players from the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra and a pianist who has frequently played with the orchestra when a piano is required as part of the band.

The lively, tuneful Haydn trio, one of his best-known, is a delight to hear. However, a few glitches in intonation early on in the first movement (adagio), and the violin tone being rather too prominent in that movement detracted a little from its glorious melodies.

The sublime poco adagio slow movement revealed a lovely blend of the instruments, and beautifully varied dynamics. The rondo all’Ongarese finale featured, as indicated by the name, Hungarian folk music. These gypsies were very speedy and vigorous, and left a happy impression of their dancing.

Mendelssohn’s trio is much longer, and begins much more sombre in tone than that of the Haydn work. There is much for the piano to do in the first movement – and indeed, elsewhere. The cello was most distinguished here, with its gorgeous flowing theme, after the initial agitato, which returns. Later, all play the theme, with astonishing rippling passages from the piano. This molto allegro agitato movement is quite long, and very dramatic.

The second movement, andante con moto tranquillo, opens with piano only, playing a song-like theme, reminiscent, not least through its pensive quality, of the composer’s Songs without Words for piano solo. Variations upon the theme followed. In the scherzo: leggiero e vivace third movement there were indeed lightness and liveliness. The sprightly character put me in mind of some of the composer’s Midsummer Night’s Dream music. The music became more vociferous as it darted here and there, like so many little sprites.

The Finale: allegro assai appassionata was indeed passionate compare with the previous movement. Broad expanses of music, and greater use of the forte dynamic were features. What a plethora of themes and modulations Mendelssohn worked into this movement! The exciting finishing passages demanded considerable virtuosity from the players.

Prolonged applause greeted the end of the trio’s performance. This was a concert of fine music, from fine musicians

 

Enterprising concert of New Zealand music at St Andrew’s lunchtime

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

 New Zealand Music for Woodwind: Ken Wilson, John Elmsly, Douglas Lilburn, Natalie Hunt, Ben Hoadley, Jeremy Mayall, Anthony Ritchie

Peter Dykes (oboe), Deborah Rawson and Peter Scholes (clarinets), Ben Hoadley (bassoon), Reuben Chin (saxophones), Kirsten Robertson (piano)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 16 March 2016, 12.15pm

An annual series of New Zealand Music for Woodwind, instigated by Ben Hoadley, had its eighth iteration with this concert. The enterprise and enthusiasm of wind players in introducing the audience to both new and older woodwind works by New Zealand composers is to be commended.

The occasion made for an interesting programme. Sadly, due to another commitment, I missed the first item, Ken Wilson’s Duo for clarinet and bassoon; doubly sad because Ken was a former neighbour, and good friend. I know from his widow that this work was recently recorded by today’s players, Peter Scholes and Ben Hoadley, in Auckland. Such was Ken’s modesty that I didn’t know until reading today’s programme note that he had a doctoral degree in composition from Indiana University, though I knew he had studied there.

Next we heard a premiere performance, one of three to which we were treated. This was an extraordinary work, by John Elmsly, currently Creative New Zealand/Jack C. Richards Composer-in-Residence at the New Zealand School of Music. He wrote One mouth, two voices in collaboration with brilliant young saxophonist Reuben Chin, currently undertaking post-graduate study at NZSM.

The work required Chin to play both soprano and alto saxophones at the same time. There were several short sections of the two saxophones being played, described in the programme note by Elmsly as the ‘choruses’, interspersed with ‘verses’ played alternately on the solo instruments.

Such was the complexity that Chin needed the score to be on three music-stands – he had no spare hands for turning pages! According to the programme note, ‘the party trick’ of playing both instruments simultaneously is not unknown, but it seems an astonishing feat. Coupling both instruments is interesting, but of course, there is a limit as to what notes can be played on each instrument, with only one hand apiece.

There were a lot of effects in the piece, but also fine melodic sequences. The solos exhibited exemplary playing, and delicious soft passages on both instruments. This contrasted with the almost raucous quality of their loud notes. The ‘choruses’ tended to be loud, and featured standard chords, as required by the limited notes available. It was an effective work, well worth hearing again.

A short and sweet Canon for two clarinets by Douglas Lilburn followed. It was notable for attractive interweaving of the two instruments. Two “Clarinet Duets in Red and Black”, Ladybug and Muchacho (Spanish for servant or maid), by young Wellington composer Natalie Hunt, a clarinettist herself, were really delightful. The first of the two short pieces was a wonderful dance for the insect (ladybird, if you prefer). One could see the insect hopping and flying around in what seemed a random fashion. The second was a premiere performance, and revealed superb writing for the instrument, bringing out its sonority and lyrical qualities in a very satisfying way. Played by two leading clarinettists, the pieces were a pleasure to hear.

Today’s bassoonist also composes; Ben Hoadley’s brief duet for two clarinets, was lively and fun, titled 10.10.10. To an organist that reads like the metre of a hymn tune, but in fact it was inspired by the film documentary One Day on Earth, filmed over a single 24-hour period in every country, on 10 October 2010.

Jeremy Mayall, recently Mozart Fellow at Otago University and now teaching at the Waikato Institute of Technology, wrote The Effect of Bundled Sticks on Sound for bassoon and effects pedals, which also had its premiere at this concert (the bassoon is the bundle of sticks). Ben Hoadley’s expertise as a bassoonist brought out the beauty of the instrument. I was not sure that the pedal effects (recorded sound, some of it recorded live from the instrument) added to the attractiveness, though they did to the volume and resonance, not to mention adding sundry extraordinary extraneous noises. The composer’s note says ‘…at its essence this piece is an exploration of sound’.

The final work (that made the concert rather too long) was Anthony Ritchie’s Sonata for oboe and piano. An energetic allegro vivace opened the work, with both Peter Dykes (NZSO associate principal oboe) and pianist Kirsten Robertson (née Simpson) all over the place on their instruments, at considerable speed. Its spiky changes were spirited and exciting. The adagio middle section is described in the programme note as ‘featuring a soulful oboe melody’, though to me, the oboe’s biting tone, particularly in the St. Andrew’s acoustic, belied this description somewhat, especially if auditorily compared with the saxophone. It was a tuneful sequence, though mostly (as with the rest of the sonata) fairly loud. The last section, maestoso-mesto-allegro, was musically diverse, but to me became a bit tedious with repetitions; I thought shorter would be more satisfying.

It was marvellous to have a group of such expert players all performing in one concert, and to hear new and not-so-new New Zealand music.

Inbal Megiddo and friends stage fifth Cellophonia at School of Music

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

New Zealand School of Music Te Koki
Cellophonia Concert

David Popper: Requiem
Handel, arr. Claude Kenneson: Adagio and Allegro from Organ Concerto in G minor, Op.4 no 3
Elgar: Salut d’amour, Op.12, arr. Kenneson
Kreisler: Liebesleid, arr. Kenneson
Piazzola: Libertango, arr. Alvin Ware

Adam Concert Room, Victoria University of Wellington

Saturday, 20 February 2016, 6.30pm

Cellophonia consists of a day of rehearsals for cellists, followed by a concert. This was the fifth such event. While organised by the New Zealand School of Music at Victoria University of Wellington, it includes mature cellists from amateur orchestras as well as students of various ages. Tutors were Inbal Megiddo (cello soloist and NZSM Senior Lecturer) and Andrew Joyce (Principal Cellist of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra). There was no printed programme; I am grateful to Brigid O’Meeghan for supplying the details.

There were other highly experienced, indeed expert, cellists participating. I saw Rolf Gjelsten, Brigid O’Meeghan and Lucy Gijsbers; there may have been other top-line cellists also.

A good-sized audience heard the short programme (approx. 40 minutes) from the 23 cellists, of whom between one-half and two-thirds were female.

Before the concert commenced, Inbal Megiddo paid tribute to the late Wellington cellist and luthier, Ian Lyons, who died suddenly, recently. The first item, written for multiple cellos and piano (Jian Liu), appropriately, was dedicated to his memory. The work was suitably sombre. There was strong tone from Megiddo and Joyce against a background of the other cellos. Soon the piano joined in. The music was solemn, even portentous; the players created a big sound, playing without a conductor, but carefully following the two tutors’ head, bow and eye signals. However, I sometimes found the volume too much in this rather small auditorium.

The piano made a considerable contrast, with its higher pitch and different timbre. This was an effective work, and being written for this instrumentation, made a greater musical impression than did the arrangements that followed.

Some rearrangement of the players took place for the Handel piece. Two groupings of two cellists each provided the concerto effect: Megiddo and Joyce; Gijsbers and another young woman whom I have seen and heard before. They played more-or-less alternate concerto sections of the score.

Not every other player was in tune all the time, but all made a solid contribution. The allegro in particular sounded odd after the familiarity of the organ original. The playing was a little too insistent, with the harmonic variation being rather swamped. However, there were lovely solo, duet and quartet passages from the four leaders.

The Elgar piece was not sufficiently ingratiating, with all that low grumbling below the solo part, played by Megiddo and Joyce. Others got a chance to carry parts of the melody, but the playing of the remainder of the band was insufficiently delicate. The polished wooden floor is responsible for a lot of this sound; the cello, unlike nearly all other instruments, has direct contact with the floor.

The two cello tutors swapped places for the Fritz Kreisler piece. Joyce’s playing of the melody was mellow and gorgeous, and the accompaniment was nicely varied with not so much deep grumbling here. Some harmonies were pitched above the melody, which made for variety.

Astor Piazzolla’s brief tango “Libertango’ was played by some of the group with great aplomb; by others more cautiously. It ended with a great flourish.

I am sure that those of the players who are not under regular tuition at NZSM would have got a lot out of their day’s workshop; the final concert was by no means a compromise of quality, with its variety of pieces.

 

Happy Christmas concert from Nota Bene at The Prefab in Jessie Street

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Nota Bene Chamber Choir, conducted by Mark Dorrell

Prefab Hall, Jessie Street

Thursday, 17 December 2015, 6.30pm

From the moment I arrived in a packed Prefab Hall, standing room only, and found the last seat thanks to a friend signalling to me, I was in an informal atmosphere of enjoyment. Well over 150 people were present, a good 40 or so of whom were standing round the walls.

The seating was arranged on three sides, the choir performing from the other side. This hollow square arrangement made for good sight lines, and a feeling of everyone being involved. Acoustically, the hall was fine, not being low-ceilinged, and having plenty of timber around.

Mark Dorrell gave informal introductions to many items, and for those that were accompanied, he played on a tolerable electronic keyboard.

The choir immediately impressed in the first of several carol arrangements by Sir David Willcocks, with its strong tone and excellent legato singing. This was ‘Birthday Carol’, a bright and jolly opener to the concert.

The beautiful Czech carol ‘Rocking’ made a complete contrast, with its gentle lullaby character. It was followed by what was possibly a New Zealand premiere: ‘If ye would hear the angels sing’ by Peter Tranchell (British composer, 1922-1993). It featured soloist Joe Haddow, in a piece that began gently, then broke into fortissimo, then subsided to piano at the end. A charming carol – but Sir David would not have approved of the emphasised ‘thuuh’ – he believed in throwing away this unimportant word, and pronouncing it as a less prominent ‘thi’.

A modern setting of the well-known ‘Angels from the realms of glory’ was next. The tune was varied and interesting, and very vigorous.

The audience then had its turn, singing with the choir ‘Once in royal David’s city’ and ‘The first Nowell’. All the carols in which the audience participated were sung with energy and panache, and a thoroughly good sound.

Poulenc’s setting of ‘Hodie Christus natus est’ is another joyous song, and the choir sang it unaccompanied. The music is quite tricky, with a good deal of staccato. The tenor tone in this and the following carol was occasionally a little raw. However, words throughout were very clear. The next was also by a French composer: ‘Hymne à la Vièrge’, by Pierre Villette (1926-1998), and also unaccompanied. It was a contrast with the previous carol, having long legato lines, but great dynamic gradations. The French pronunciation was good.

Also a French carol, but in an English translation and arranged by an Englishman (who was an early mentor in Mark Dorrell’s musical life), John C. Phillips, ‘Listen to the sounds in heaven’ featured attractive singing from the women, in what was quite a tongue-twister, and whistling from the men. Mark Dorrell gave it a lively ‘pom-pom’ accompaniment.

The audience had its chance again in ‘O little town of Bethlehem’ and in a loud and hearty ‘Hark! The herald angels sing’, with the Willcocks descant.

A modern carol was ‘Jesus, springing’ by noted British choral composer (and former member of the famed King’s Singers), Bob Chilcott. Like the late Sir David, Chilcott has visited New Zealand. Mainly accompanied, this was an appealing carol, with interesting harmonies. ‘Tomorrow shall be my dancing day’ by John Gardner (1917-2011), another British composer had a very bouncy setting. Here, I missed the resonance of the piano in the partly accompanied piece. Nevertheless, it had considerable appeal.

After the interval, we were into the more light-hearted part of the Christmas repertoire. Leroy Anderson’s ‘Sleigh Ride’ had received a jovial arrangement. This item was accompanied; I noticed that, presumably because Mark Dorrell was accompanying rather than directing many of the items, the choir members tended to be stuck in their copies, not looking up. This limits the communication with the audience.

The world premiere of an amusing parody, entitled ‘Deck the porch’, was next. The words were by John Smythe, who was present, and had won a competition in the New Zealand Listener with his Kiwi take on a traditional Christmas carol. It required clear diction; I got most of the words. The refrain was ‘Come and have a barbecue and bring your togs’.

A change of mood gave us John Rutter’s setting of Shakespeare’s words ‘Blow, blow, thou winter wind’. (A topical parody could be ‘Blow, blow, thou Wellington wind’). It featured, as well as fine singing, a lovely ‘piano’ introduction and accompaniment. There followed a medley of popular Christmas pieces, in which the audience joined, with noticeably good attention to rhythmic details. ‘Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer’ was followed by ‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas’ and ‘Jingle bells’.

The choir gave us Irving Berlin’s White Christmas, in a multi-part arrangement for unaccompanied choir (this had the choristers looking up more) that was most effective, then ‘Be a Santa’ from a show entitled Subways are for Sleeping, by Jule Styne (1905-1994). Four male soloists from the choir helped bring out its verve and fun, as did the several changes of key.

We all know the ‘Twelve days of Christmas’, but ‘Twelve days to Christmas’ from She loves me by Jerry Bock (1928-2010; Fiddler on the Roof) was a hilarious look at the human tendency to leave everything till the last minute, seen from the point of view of workers in a department store.

After the audience had its turn in ‘Silent Night’ and ‘O come all ye faithful’, perhaps the two most popular carols, the choir sang ‘A merry Christmas’ (that’s the one about figgy pudding) to end. But the audience demanded more, so a repeat of ‘Be a Santa’ made a good way to end the concert.

Throughout, much precision in enunciation was required and supplied, so that the audience could enter fully into the entertainment, and everyone went away happy.

 

Fine a cappella singing from Supertonic Choir and Tawa College Blue Notes

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Christmas at the Gallery

Music by Mendelssohn, Whitacre, Pompallier, Stanford, David Hamilton, Rheinberger, Childs, Swider, Britten, Frank Martin, and well-known carols

Supertonic Choir and Tawa College Blue Notes Choir conducted by Isaac Stone

New Zealand Portrait Gallery

Wednesday, 9 December 2015, 7pm

Once again, Supertonic performed to a virtually full venue – this time, at the Portrait Gallery on the waterfront. I concluded that about 140 people were present. As on the previous occasion, in June, the audience comprised people I don’t see at other concerts; I knew no-one in the audience. I hope that their enjoyment of this concert will enthuse them to attend other choral concerts.

I have been to concerts in the Gallery before, but the chairs have always been arranged along one long side of the narrow space, in several long rows, whereas this time they were arranged 12 seats per row, in 12 rows from front to back across the narrow width of the room. This was not as satisfactory for seeing the performers, and, I conjecture, giving a different acoustic effect, as well as probably seating fewer.

The conductor welcomed everyone, but I have to repeat what I said in my review last time: if you speak prepare what you are going to say, then say it fluently and succinctly; it is simply easier on the ear. The entire programme was sung unaccompanied, with Isaac Stone singing the notes after consulting his tuning fork. This is no mean accomplishment for choirs singing a full programme.

The concert opened with Mendelssohn’s Sechs Sprüche. It was a pity that the printed programme did not given the titles of the six individual Christmas songs, since the audience unnecessarily applauded each song, and since only the German title for the set was given, many audience members were unaware of where we were in the programme, not realising that the six made up one item. Nevertheless, the singing immediately demonstrated blend, shape and colour, in the first song (‘Christmas Day’). The songs were sung in German, but I have given English translations of the titles here. The acoustic proved to be lively.

The words were clearly articulated in this and in most of the works in the programme. Others of the songs (‘New Year’s Day’, ‘On Ascension Day’, ‘At Passiontide’, ‘In Advent’ and ‘On Good Friday’) featured gorgeous bass singing and rich harmony. The tenors were not quite as strong. All demonstrated Mendelssohn’s fine word-setting. Beautiful pianissimos were notable. One song included four solo voices at the opening, later joined by the choir. It was short and very effective. In another, the opening was low in the voices, giving a rich, mellow sound.

Eric Whitacre is a popular American choral composer, and his ‘Sleep’, with words by C.A. Silvestri, is a prime example of his writing. The singing was notable for fine unanimity, and appropriate expression of the words.

‘Mo Maria’ was something of a curiosity, written in Maori by Bishop Pompallier, who apparently became fluent in both Maori and English, without abandoning his native French. I find there are numbers of entries for it on Wikipedia, and it was sung at the re-interment of his remains in New Zealand in 2002, 160 years after it was written. It featured rich blocks of harmony, though having a rather conventional hymn-type melody.

Supertonic was then replaced by Blue Notes choir from Tawa College – quite a large choir for a cappella singing, but their ability and hard work proved that size was not a handicap. They began with Stanford’s lovely ‘Beati quorum via’, sung, as were all their items, from memory. The choir’s tone was very good most of the time, despite occasional breathiness. Splendid phrasing and dymanics marked the performance. The basses gave a marvellous sound – all the more commendable in a school choir.

David Hamilton’s ‘Willow Song’ began with altos singing the theme, accompanied by the other parts. The words were very clear, and the hummed passages sonorous. The choir stood in a semi-circle, not a block, so the sound was distributed, not concentrated. The Rheinberger piece, ‘Abendlied’, sung in German, revealed some strain in the tenors, but in the main the tone continued to be excellent. There was a wonderful diminuendo at the end.

Blue Notes’ last selection was ‘Salve Regina’ by New Zealander David Childs. This was the only piece on the programme which had been sung by the choir in the National Finale of The Big Sing, in August, at which they received a bronze award. This ws a most sympathetic and imaginative setting of the words, but not in a particularly contemporary style. As well as an appealing and well-sung soprano solo, the men-only section was quite splendid. The choir showed subtlety and sensitivity to the words, always singing with flawless intonation.

After the interval Supertonic returned to sing ‘Cantus Gloriosus’ by Polish composer Józef Świder (d. 2014). Here, the music was smooth and peacful, but build to a great crescendo. The precision of singing consonants enhanced the effect superbly. ‘Prayer of the children’ by Kurt Bestor, a contemporary American composer (arranged by Andrea S. Klouse) was sung in The Big Sing by Dunedin’s Sings Hilda choir. An unemotive setting, it was full of fortissimos. Yet the voices sang with good tone and no evidence of strain.

Blue Notes joined with Supertonic to sing Britten’s ‘Hymn to the Virgin’. It is in English, with interspersed Latin phrases as a kind of echo, the latter being sung by the students. It was written when the composer was only 17 years old. It begins slowly, then becomes brighter and faster, with the final section going back to slow meditation. Beautiful music, and beautifully performed.

The final item was an ‘Agnus Dei’ from a Mass by Swiss composer Frank Martin. It is a difficult and complex work, for double choir. I noted a little misfire on a top note, but this was a very rare aberration. There were exciting harmonies, and the choirs’ last chords were greeted by a siren in the street – an appropriate mark of the excellent singing we had heard.

That was not all; the audience then joined in the singing of ten popular carols, with the choirs (perhaps the exception to ‘popular’ was the ‘Coventry Carol’). They were mostly taken at a rollicking pace, to end an enjoyable evening’s entertainment.

Palliser Viols and Pepe Becker enjoyed at St Andrew’s lunchtime concert

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

‘Curious Fancies’; pieces for viols, and viols and voices by Pierre Phalèse, Orlando Gibbons, Alfonso Ferrabosco, Tobias Hume, Thomas Tallis, William Byrd, John Jenkins

Palliser Viols (Lisa Beech, Sophia Acheson, Jane Brown, Andrea Oliver, Robert Oliver), with Pepe Becker (soprano)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 9 December 2015, 12.15pm

I find that I reviewed Palliser Viols at St. Andrew’s as recently as September. However, although some of the composers were the same, the music was not duplicated, and we had this time the addition of a singer, not named in the programme.

This time the programme was not clearly set out, so it was not always easy to tell which piece we were on. The interesting programme notes did not discuss the composers in the order in which we heard them, which was a little confusing. Nevertheless, it was good to have the words of most of the songs printed.

The opening Pavane Lesquercarde and La Roque Gailliard were the only pieces not by English-born or resident composers (Alfonso Ferrabosco coming into the latter category). Phalèse was Flemish, and these dances were from Antwerpener Tanzbuch, published in 1583. They were very pleasing pieces, and although there were one or two flaws in the playing, the ensemble was well-balanced and skilful.

Gibbons’s song The Silver Swan is perhaps his best-known secular song today, and its simple beauty never fails to delight. It followed another of his songs: O that the Learned Poets, whose amusing words included the following, wishing that poets ‘Would not consume good wit in hateful rhyme’.

A Fantasy for four viols by Ferrabosco was followed by further songs by Gibbons, from Hymns and Songs for the Church, published by George Wither in 1623. A straightforward ‘Song III’ had the words ‘Blest be the God of Israel, For he his people bought…’   while the next, ‘Song IIII’ began ‘Now in the Lord my heart doth pleasure take…’ This was very engaging, both melodically and harmonically. As the programme note pointed oiut, the language of these hymns and songs is not highly poetic, but rather ‘deliberately ‘common’ in its expression’.   The third, ‘Song XXXIV’ is titled ‘The Song of Angels. While the words are not used today, the tune is frequently used in churches, with its original number and title, to Charles Wesley’s words ‘Forth in thy name, O Lord, I go’; there are other words set to it, too.

(Pedants like me note that the words said ‘Thus angels sung and thus sing we’, and ‘If angels sung at Jesus’ birth’ whereas we would consider this a misuse, and that the word should be ‘sang’.)

This last song particularly was a demonstration of the skill of Robert Oliver; accompanying these melodies on the bass viol, there is the difficulty of playing the chords on a six-stringed instrument. The instrument came into its own in two pieces by Tobias Hume, from Captain Humes Musicall Humors, of 1605. The first was ‘A Humorous Pavan’. Robert Oliver’s programme note says ‘all puns intended’. The Pavan roamed through different moods, with lots of tricky work for fingers and bow. Specifically, it introduced pizzicato and col legno (hitting the strings with the back of the bow), as instructed by Hume. The four Humors (melancholic, phlegmatic, choleric and sanguine) were traversed, and the piece had humour in the other sense as well.

The other consort members returned for a solemn In Nomine by Thomas Tallis, and a lively Fantasy a 4 by William Byrd.

Two more Gibbons songs followed, the first a setting of a poem by John Donne (though considerable liberties were taken with the text): ‘Ah, dear heart’, which was short and sweet, and ‘What is our Life?’ written by Sir Walter Raleigh as he sat in his condemned cell. The latter was, understandably, mournful. A final song, with mainly bass viol accompaniment was an anonymous ballad to the tune of ‘All in a garden green’, and then Fantasy no.6 by John Jenkins on that tune, employing all the instruments.

The songs all revealed a wonderful marriage of words and music, and the concert was one of delights as well as of Curious Fancies.

 

Final concert in marathon Bach organ project at Cathedral of Saint Paul

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

The Bach Project: Michael Stewart and Richard Apperley play the complete organ works of J.S. Bach throughout 2015; final concert

Michael Stewart, Richard Apperley, organ

Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul

Friday, 4 December 2015, 6pm

Yet another varied programme in the Bach Project, for this final concert in the year-long project. This time, being at a more user-friendly hour than most of the performances have been, there was a good-sized audience. There was an Advent and Christmas theme running through the choice of chorale preludes.

Opening with a chorale prelude that was not familiar to me, though on a very familiar chorale: ‘Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme’ (‘Wake up! A voice is calling us’). This one was catalogued in the appendices (Anh.II 66). The second part of these (i.e. II) refers to works of doubtful authenticity. This work was unusual: it was written for trumpet and organ. Richard Apperley played the trumpet part on the trumpet stop on the organ, standing, while Michael Stewart played the organ part. It all came off very well and was most effective, the trumpet giving the music life.

There followed two settings of ‘Christum wir sollen loben schon’ (‘We should indeed praise Christ’), BWV 696 and 611, the latter from the Orgelbüchlein. The first is a fughetta (little fugue), and is slow and solemn, while the latter is more extensive and florid, while being harmonically interesting.

Two chorale preludes on ‘Wir Christenleut’ (‘We Christians’) next, the first BWV 1090 and the second deest (not to be found in Bach catalogues). The first was played with a lovely variety of registrations, bringing out the counterpoint strongly, while the second featured gorgeous running lines. However, the chorale, played on the pedals, sounded rather dull and unimportant in contrast with the bright upper parts.

‘Vom Himmel kam der Engel Schaar’ (‘From heaven came the angel host’, BWV 607) is an affirmative and joyful piece, not very long, as is typical of Orgelbüchlein (Little Organ Book) chorale preludes.

Bach set the lovely chorale ‘Vom Himmel hoch, da komm’ ich her’ (‘From heaven above to earth I come’) numbers of times. The first setting played (BWV 701) is a short and delightful one for manuals only, while the second (BWV 769) is a set of canonic variations of varying tempi and amazing complexity. It certainly demonstrated what Bach could do, when he wrote it in order to join the select ‘Society for the Musical Sciences’. The programme note says “One of the very greatest achievements in contrapuntal writing, surpassed only be his own Art of Fugue!” Surely no-one but Bach could compose such a work.

The third variation, a canon at the seventh, is marked andante, is thus slower and less active than its predecessor. It particularly appealed to me. Variation 4 had a somewhat duller sound as against the bright chorale melody. Variation 5 was complex, but jubilant. Much dexterity was demanded of the organist here, to bring all to a triumphant conclusion.

Michael Stewart took a well-earned rest after this, and Richard Apperley took over. He began with the two glorious chorale preludes on ‘In dulci jubilo;: BWVs 729 and 608. The grand 729 has a dramatic effect; the other is lighter and clearer. With quieter registration, it gives more of a feeling of wonder. However, the resonance in the Cathedral played havoc somewhat with the runs in both, and some of the variations are lost. Exciting, both of them, though very different.

Two short and interesting chorale preludes followed: ‘Lobt Gott, ihr Christen, allzugleich’, BWV 732 and ‘Der Tag, der ist so freudenreich’, BWV 719, and then it was Concerto in C, BWV 595. This full-blooded work contained many contrasts. Not being restricted (or inspired) by a set of words, this is much more ‘absolute music’ than the other works. Many enchanting figures and developments flowed, yet without a Biblical or poetic theme, it lacked some of the subtle nuances of the chorale preludes.

It was followed by three of the latter, treating the same words: ‘Gelobet seist du, Jesu Christ’ (‘Praise to you, Jesus Christ’, BWVs 722, 697, 604). All are short, and two are set for manuals only – though I have a suspicion that in the edition Richard Apperley was using the pedals were employed in the first one. That one had plenty going on, while the second was so appealing I wanted it to go on for longer, with its bright registration including a two-foot rank. The third was smooth and mellow.

‘Puer natus in Bethlehem’ (BWV 603; ‘A child is born in Bethlehem’) has received many wonderful settings, and this gentle and thoughtful piece is one of the best.

The recital finished with a major work: Fuga a 5 con pedale pro organo pleno BWV 562/2, to give it its full title. This is the fugue that follows the Prelude BWV 552/1, with which the Bach Project opened, many months ago. It is a three-part fugue, each part having a different character and time signature. The opening theme resembles the hymn tune for ‘O God, our help in ages past’, so in English this is often called the St. Anne fugue, that being the name of the hymn tune.

It is a great and complex fugue, with much melodic and harmonic interest. This was the grandest way in which to see off this year-long series of performances of all of Johann Sebastian Bach’s organ music. Its supremely positive ending mood lifts the spirits, as does the thought of the achievement of Michael Stewart and Richard Apperley in undertaking and completing the project.

And there are plans for more ‘Complete works…’ projects next year. Watch this space!

Rites of Spring – from the sublime to “cor blimey” in all respects

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra
Rite of Spring

Vaughan Williams: The Lark Ascending
Walton: Cello Concerto
Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Jaime Martín, with Vesa-Matti Leppänen (violin) and Jakob Koranyi (cello)

Michael Fowler Centre

Friday, 20 November 2015, 6.30pm

 

Spring was celebrated before a nearly full Michael Fowler Centre on Friday.  Though the very popular Vaughan Williams work and the famous Stravinsky ballet score were composed within a short space of time of each other, their musical languages were vastly different, yet they both in their own ways celebrated spring, one in the English countryside, the other in a primitive Russian past.  Thus the programme was rather a case of the sublime to the cor-blimey – not that I am complaining.

 

It was good to have the orchestra’s concertmaster as soloist.  Many of us recall his predecessor in that position, Wilma Smith, playing the Vaughan Williams work.  Naturally, this performance differed from hers.  Leppänen began very softly, with the medium-sized string orchestra plus a few woodwind instruments and two horns making up the accompanying ensemble.

 

Apparently it is not only in New Zealand that this work is an immense favourite with audiences.  Here, it nearly always rates at or near the top of the annual end-of-year ‘Settling the score’ programme on Radio New Zealand Concert, in which listeners’ selections are ranked in order of  popularity.

 

This was very fine violin playing, if not having quite the warmth of tone that I anticipated, though it did warm up over time.  The orchestra’s contribution was always in keeping with the mood; the horns’ subtle interjections were splendid, as were the flourishes for triangle near the end.  The violin’s solo finishing section was gloriously delicate in its lilting tunefulness, and was greeted with tumultuous applause.

 

Walton’s cello concerto was not a work that I knew.  It was appropriate to have another English work after something so English as the Vaughan Williams.  It required a normal full orchestra – though it still appeared comparatively small, set among all the places required for the Stravinsky.

 

A gorgeous quiet opening from the cello immediately concentrated attention on the soloist (dressed quite informally compared with the orchestra members in their tails and white bow ties, who again were contrasted with the conductor in a business suit and tie).  The first movement, unusually, was the slowest (moderato), and conveyed a dreamy and meditative mood; the mute was employed for much of the movement, giving the music a restrained character.

 

The second movement, allegro appassionata, was faster and more dynamic.  Quite a lot of athleticism was required of the soloist, expressing the tempo marking.  Brass, timpani and percussion contributed largely to the driving mood.  There was pizzicato from the cellist, then a very animated bowed passage.  Koranyi (from Sweden) expressed the varying moods elegantly and with panache, though he did not have the big sound to be heard from some cellists.  However, he met Walton’s considerable demands with style and skill.  According to the programme note, ample as were those for the other works, this movement demonstrated Walton’s enjoyment of shifting accents and changing his metres ‘giving the movement an engaging vivacity and unpredictability’.

 

The third movement (tema ed improvvisazioni) opened soulfully, the soloist accompanied by pizzicato cellos only.  Many of the solo passages were in the high register.  Ravishing woodwind came on the scene; the following solo section had the cellist drawing on a variety of technical skills in short order.  After this sections contemplative close, we were woken by drum rolls and loud brass flourishes.  Another extended solo section called for more double-stopping and great dynamic variation; all this was accompanied by multiple-toned coughs from the audience!  Deep notes from the soloist, along with chanting flutes, were quite thrilling.  Cellos and basses joined in with their own low notes, while the harp contributed delicious timbres, along with those of the xylophone, to end.

 

A very full orchestra, of over 90 players, was required for Stravinsky’s tremendous work.  The brass section included 9 horns (two of the players sometimes playing Wagner tubas) and two full-sized tubas, the woodwind four flutes plus piccolo (sometimes 3+2), four oboes plus four bassoons and contra-bassoon; four clarinets and a bass-clarinet.

 

A century after its composition, the opening of this music (and indeed much else in it) is still startling, and must have been extraordinary at its first performance – and indeed (to impresario Diaghilev’s delight) there was famously a riot.  This music was something the like of which the audience would never have heard before.  I admire the French for their boldness and expressive trait in showing their displeasure, and on the other side, their admiration for the work.  How often today do we get any demonstration of dislike of music?  We’re far too self-conscious and timid!    Not only the dancers must have been very fit for such energetic rhythms, the string players especially needed to be fit to play their fast figures leaping from string to string.

 

This was the most dynamic, exciting performance of the work that I have heard, and the players were absolutely on top of their game.  This is a work that you experience rather than simply enjoy.  It has probably not been surpassed in the annals of Western music for energy, dynamism and sheer exuberance.  No wonder so many sound shields were in use behind members of the brass and woodwind sections of the orchestra!   There was so much remarkable playing from them, and the thrust and vigour are unlike anything else in music.  The score is crammed full of contrasts.   A section of off-stage brass was very effective in the second part of the work.   Insistent rhythms are a major feature of the work, and come up in various of its 15 sections.

 

Compared with other of Stravinsky’s works for ballet, there is little melody in Rite of Spring.  The interest lies elsewhere.  Despite the huge demands, and the large number of players, the orchestra played as one.  The performance received a rapturous reception, not least from conductor Martín, who selected individual players for a handshake before standing sections of the orchestra one by one.  Of the strings, he singled out the violas.  But there was no mistaking that the principal bassoon, who introduces the whole work with plangent notes in a high register, won his especial favour.