Tag: choral

Organists and Festival Singers bring Vierne to the fore

Posted on by Peter Mechen

The Festival Singers and Wellington Organists Association present:

FRENCH DELIGHTS

Festival Singers / Rosemary Russell (director)

Paul Rosoman (organ) / Jonathan Berkahn (organ/piano)

James Adams (tenor) / Linden Loader (contralto)

VIERNE – Messe Solennelle / Suite Bourguignonne (exerpts) for solo piano

Organ works by Vierne, Becker, and Guilmant

Songs by Hahn, Massenet and Faure

Sacred Heart Cathedral, Hill St., Wellington

Sunday 9th September 2012

A glance at the programme and the list of performers at the head of this review will give the reader an idea of the range and scope of this undertaking – a fascinating, and, as it turned out, extremely rewarding concert.

Centred firmly around the music of Louis Vierne (1870-1937) the presentation included also organ pieces and songs written by other French composers. To begin with, organist Paul Rosoman seemed to put the foundation-stones of the building to the test with a resounding Praeludium Festivum by Rene Becker (1882-1956), from the composer’s First Organ Sonata, music that in any language would make a truly splendid noise.

It occurred to me that this was the first time I had heard the main organ in Sacred Heart Cathedral played at what sounded pretty much like “full throttle” – it was definitely attention-grabbing stuff, stirring and resplendent. I loved the particularly “grunty” figurations in thirds during the fugue, just before the reprise of the opening of the Prelude – all very physical and engaging.

Vierne’s music then made its first appearance of the afternoon with two works for choir and organ – an Ave Maria and a Tantum Ergo. Both stand-alone works, the first, a prayer to the Virgin Mary, had a beautifully seraphic opening, sensitively handled by organ and sopranos, and then featured the full choir bursting in for the second part of the prayer, the “Sancta Maria”. Then, the Tantum Ergo, a prayer accompanying the veneration of the Blessed Sacrament, inspired some finely-crafted singing from all parts of the choir, with the sopranos rising to the occasion at the words “Sensuum defectui” halfway through, and again at “Compar sit laudatio” at the end.

Paul Rosoman again took his turn at the organ, playing this time two of Vierne’s own compositions, both from a set Op.31 containing twenty-four pieces “en style Libre” – I found the first piece “Epitaphe” exuded a strongly Catholic atmosphere, meditative tones, reedy timbres, and harmonies exploring “inner” realms. This was followed by a Berceuse, curiously unrestful –  rather “beefy” for a Lullaby, I thought, to begin with, but then sounding troubled, even angst-ridden, though it seemed as if, again in the best Catholic tradition, rest was eventually achieved at the end of tribulation.

Tenor James Adams was one of two singers who chimed in with heart-warming contributions to this concert, the other being contralto Linden Loader. Songs by Reynaldo Hahn and Jules Massenet were chosen by the tenor, and performed in reverse order to the program listing – so we first got Des Grieux’s heartfelt plea to Manon from Massenet’s eponymous opera, winningly and meltingly floated by the singer, and accompanied sensitively by Jonathan Berkahn’s piano playing. After this we heard the remarkable Si mes vers avaient des ailes (If my verses had wings), written by the thirteen year-old  Reynaldo Hahn. James Adams’ performance of this seemed somewhat inert in effect to begin with, after the radiance the tenor gave the Massenet aria, but the words then seemed to focus more sharply as the song ran its brief but beautiful course. The afternoon’s second singer, contralto Linden Loader, appearing during the second half, brought a rich, velvety voice to two wonderful songs by Gabriel Fauré, the well-known Après un rêve, here lightly and sensitively vocalized and accompanied, and the other, Fleur jetée (Discarded flower), a more dramatic outpouring, singer and pianist relishing the amplitude of Fauré’s writing and putting it across splendidly.

However, for the moment – and keeping a firm focus on the music of Louis Vierne – Jonathan Berkahn returned to the piano to give us two attractive moments from a Suite Bourguignonne, the whole consisting of seven pieces. The “Légende Bourguignonne” owes something to Fauré’s similarly elusive harmonic evocations, not unlike a Barcarolle in effect, with a kind of “rowing” rhythm, here beautifully played, the rather sweet shift into the major suggesting perhaps a journey’s end? Afterwards, a bright and energetic “Aubade” conjured up rolls of pealing bells awakening the new day – we heard a few clangers amid the clamour, but all to great effect, as well as enjoying the piece’s coda, rumbling upwards from the bass and bursting into festive mode once again at the conclusion. Exhilarating!

Rather akin to a musical version of “tag wrestling”, Paul Roseman then took back the reins at the organ console, for a performance of a “Scherzo” from Alexandre Guilmant’s Fifth Organ Sonata (the composer’s dates, 1837-1911). Again the piece immediately caught the ear, an atmospherically “serpentine” kind of opening suggesting some sort of “dans reptilian”, filled with slithering chromaticisms, the creepiness relieved by a charming Trio into which the listener could relax, away from thoughts of “something nasty in the basement”. But a reprise of the opening also brought out a remarkable fugue whose different voicings combined with the Cathedral’s ambient acoustic to suggest the idea of antiphonal forces at play.

An interval allowed us to take stock of all these strands of musical impulse before bringing us still more delights – firstly, two exerpts from a work Pieces de fantasie by Vierne himself, played by Jonathan Berkahn (both organists certainly earned their keep throughout this concert!). To begin with came a graceful, if quirkily-harmonised Sicilienne, its modulations flavorsome, and with lovely chromatic meltdowns in the trio section. Then a lively Intermezzo brought out the composer’s awareness of what sounded like jazz elements, the piece becoming almost circus-act oriented at some points, with frequent pauses for theatrical effect! Incidentally, by way of introducing the item, music director Rosemary Russell had already made the timely point about organ improvisation being akin to what jazz musicians do.

After Linden Loader had given us her two Faure songs, mentioned above, Rosemary Russell brought her choir to the platform for the concert’s “signature item”, Vierne’s Messe Solenelle . Two organists were brought into play, Paul Rosoman upon the Grand Orgue in the choir loft, and Jonathan Berkahn playing the Petit Orgue, the latter placed next to the choir. Throughout the Mass’s unfolding the contrasting effect of these two instruments added colour, resonance and drama. A case in point was the opening “Kyrie Eleison” begun by the men,  with dramatic interpolations from the “Grand Orgue” – and most creditably, the Singers were able to match the organ’s voluminous tones with some full-blooded singing of their own. “Christe eleison” made a sweet-toned, nicely harmonized contrast, throwing the creepily-returning Gothic-like Kyrie into bold relief, the sopranos bravely arching their high notes towards the  Grand Orgue to do battle with its massive tones – spontaneous applause!

The Gloria’s jolly, bouncing opening led to some theatrical exchanges between choir and full organ throughout the “Laudamus te….Benedictus te…..”  sequences, with only a lack of numbers hampering the ability of the men in the choir to float their lines comfortably, though the tenors in particular held on steadfastedly. Full-blooded, committed work by choir and conductor brought out grandeur at “Qui sedes ad dextram Patris” from a plaintive plea at “Qui tolls peccata mundi”, and nicely colored the energy at “Quoniam” with well-registered key-changes with each “Tu solus”, before delivering the “Amens” with much joy and plenty of vigor.

The Sanctus grew nicely from its men-only beginnings, the women’s voices properly ritualizing the “Pleni sunt caeli” and adding joyous energies to the ‘Hosannas”. A plaintive note was struck by the Benedictus, with the organ accompaniments distant and magical, before the Hosannas brought back the festive splendor of it all, the men contributing a ringing “In excelsis” at the end. Finally,the “Agnus Dei” was beautifully realized, sopranos really “owning” their utterances of “Miserere nobis”, and making something enduring out of the composer’s celestial harmonies at “Dona nobis pacem”.

Very great credit to Rosemary Russell, her Festival Singers and her organists, for bringing us closer in spirit to the music and times of a remarkable composer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Splendid singing at gathering of Anglican cathedral choirs

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Cathedral Choirs in Concert:
Choirs of Holy Trinity Cathedral, Auckland; Cathedral Church of St. Peter, Hamilton; Waiapu Anglican Cathedral, Napier; Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul; Christ Church Cathedral, Nelson; ChristChurch Cathedral, Christchurch; St. Paul’s Cathedral, Dunedin.

Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul

Saturday, 8 September at 5.30pm

It was a considerable enterprise to bring together the choirs of seven Anglican Cathedrals, especially when Wellington’s atrocious weather on the day prevented one choir (Dunedin’s) from arriving in time for them to be able to sing their item (it was to be sung in the next day’s Festal Eucharist instead).  Approximately 180 singers assembled for the weekend of singing.

The combined choirs sang first, ‘Hear my words, ye people’ by Hubert Parry.  This music was written for such a building as this one, and it certainly worked.  There was a resounding organ introduction from Richard Apperley, who accompanied the first two items, followed by quite a lengthy choral anthem.  There was lovely shading of the dynamics throughout, but the solos did not carry well.  The work was not as attractive as some of Parry’s better known anthems, and its length probably precludes it from frequent performance.  It was ably directed by Michael Stewart, of Wellington Cathedral.

Next came ‘I saw the Lord’, by John Stainer.  This had the grandeur we associate with late Victorian England.  Wagner might have been proud of the chromatic writing.  In the quiet passages there was a charming stillness, and throughout, effective word-painting.  As in the previous work performed, there was some difficulty in keeping organ and soloists in sync.  Musically, the piece is rather conventional, with effect rather than feeling or subtlety of expression.  It was conducted by Rachael Griffiths-Hughes, Director of Music at the Cathedral in Hamilton.

The choir of Auckland Cathedral sang one of the many unaccompanied church compositions of 16th century Englishman John Sheppard: ‘Libera nos, salva nos’.  There was a splendid introduction from the men’s voices, and wonderful interweaving of the lines.  The singing of the whole motet exhibited sustained beauty.  A gradual increase in volume continued through to the ending.

Junior choristers from Nelson, Napier, Wellington and Christchurch cathedrals combined under the baton of Brian Law of Christchurch to sing two more modern anthems: John Ireland’s ‘Ex ore innocentium’ and ‘Prevent us, O Lord’ by English/Canadian composer, organist and choral director Derek Holman.  The choir of boys and some girls sang with clarity and sweetness of tone.  The organ was very competently played by  Richard Apperley.

The following items were performed by the Hamilton choir, under conductor Rachael Griffiths-Hughes.  First was Palestrina’s ‘Agnus Dei’ from Missa Aeterna Christe Munera.  Mainly an adult choir, it sang with full tone, the female voices more obviously such than was the case with the Auckland choir.  It was a very polished performance, the tone superb and the singers’ mastery of the music very evident.

At this point I had to leave, to attend another concert, so I missed the train; that is, ‘It was on that train’ by Barry Ferguson, from the same choir, combined choir items by Timothy Noon (conductor of the Auckland choir), Bruckner and Elgar, and the Christchurch choir’s singing under Brian Law ‘My beloved spake’ by Paul Halley, an American church musician and composer.

Despite hearing only six items out of ten on the programme (with the removal of the Dunedin choir’s item), I was impressed with the musicianship, confidence, and splendid singing and playing of all concerned.  Words do not travel well in Wellington’s Anglican Cathedral, but the sound was beautiful and the programme (or what I heard of it) very pleasing on the ear.

 

 

Remarkable Big Sing National Finale a brilliant success at every level

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

The Big Sing – National Finale 2012
Organised by the New Zealand Choral Federation

Eighteen competing and four guest choirs, evening compered by Christine Argyle

Wellington Town Hall

Saturday 18 August, 6.30pm

Twenty-two choirs, including four ‘guest choirs’ which are not eligible for an award, from 16 schools came to Wellington for the annual singing jamboree known as The Big Sing, managed by the New Zealand Choral Federation.  The festival began in 1988 when it was separated from the then Westpac Schools Music Contest which included chamber music groups as well as singers.

The latest figures showed that 148 schools, 235 choirs, and 8,440 singers registered to take part this year  nationwide.

The Wellington regional festival had been held on 6 and 7 June in which 33 choirs sang (compared with 36 each from Christchurch and Auckland). Of those 33, five were selected for the Finale: Chilton Saint James School – Seraphim Choir, Tawa College – Twilight Tones, Wellington College – Wellington College Chorale, Wellington East Girls’ College – Cantala, Wellington Girls’ College – Teal Voices.

Wellington choirs won no Golds; three of them won Silver awards, two, Bronze

The choirs to attend the Finale were chosen through an arcane process at the end of the regional festivals that had taken place in June.  They sang to each other and to their friends a families for three days till the three adjudicators had decided which of their pieces should be heard at the Final concert, when august people such as music critics might safely attend.

It’s a mighty production, actually starting around midday Saturday, when the ‘Massed Flash Choir’ sang and made a lot of noise in Civic Square. And the New Zealand Secondary Students Choir was on hand to astonish the drifters-by. Their programme included: Toia Mai (Paraire Tomoana)
Rytmus (Ivan Hrušovský)
Geistliches Lied (Johannes Brahms)
‘Mitten wir im Leben sind’ (Felix Mendelssohn)
Nemesi (John Psathas, commissioned for the 2011-12 NZSSC)
Hamba Lulu (traditional Zulu wedding song arranged by Mike Brewer)
‘Tofa Mai Feleni’ (Trad. Samoan, arr. Steven Rapana)

As the audience entered, most of the choirs were already there or coming in, and they performed in a variety of apparently spontaneous ways. The compere was Christine Argyle, announcer (presenter) on Radio New Zealand Concert. She described what the procedures were and how the organisers had reached this point. Her delivery and comments were useful, interesting and clear yet matched the gaiety of the evening excellently.

I could make certain general remarks about the music and its performance.

The thing feeds on itself. Year by year, the choirs observe the presentation ideas and stunts that proved successful and learn from them, so that few choirs confine themselves merely to singing the piece of music. There is a great variety in costumes, in members’ dispositions on the stage, their actions, hand and facial gestures, in extraneous and intraneous noises and sound effects.

Sometimes one can tell, after a while, how the organisers have been guided in deciding on the order of items: the strongest first or in the middle? grouped together so that contrasts are not too stark? a stunner at the end of the first half to encourage reckless drinks-buying at the Interval?

Those chosen for the Finale was dominated as much as ever by the schools that have become famous for their music, and a couple of them gained places for two choirs: Burnside High in Christchurch, Wellington East Girls’, Tawa, Marlborough Girls’ and Rangitoto colleges, and the two Westlake High schools on the North Shore; and among the private schools, St Cuthbert’s, Chilton St James, King’s College.

The choir that eventually won Platinum sang first: Bel Canto from Burnside High School, with the Gloria from a Mass by Hungarian composer György Orbán. A moderately big choir of tall girls, they are conducted by Sue Densem and also rehearse with a student conductor; they sang a conspicuously bright, non-pious movement with a brisk enthusiasm, sparkling with staccato and easy syncopation, at once setting the tone and a very high standard for the rest of the concert.

Nga Manu tioriori O Kapiti, a girls’ choir (a Reserve Guest choir) from Kapiti College sang ‘I am not yours’ by prominent New Zealand choral composer David Childs. (I heard a Kapiti College Choir sing it in 2009). The chair of the judges panel James Tibbles, in his witty overview at the end, remarked how David Hamilton seemed to have been supplanted as leading New Zealand choral composer by David Childs. Bridget O’Shanassy conducted. However, I thought it a somewhat limp, clichéd piece (ghosts of A Lloyd Webber?) which hardly encouraged the choir to demonstrate their real abilities.

All the King’s Men from the obvious college, is a new choir formed this year; they are conducted by King’s organist and choirmaster Nicholas Forbes. The choir won a Silver award with David Griffiths (only Davids need apply as New Zealand composers) setting of Curnow’s Wild Iron, a poem of short, staccato phrases that did not lend itself to easy delivery, but was handled with skill and intelligence.

From that unique musical by John Kander, Cabaret (Christopher Isherwood, stories, via John van Druten, play), Kristin School’s girls’ choir Euphony sang, with great resourcefulness and wit, ‘Don’t tell Mama’. They sat on low benches and took up changing dispositions, with splendid little vignettes, to create a brilliantly funny rendering, which won them laughter, on top of the shouts and screams (which are almost unvaryingly de rigueur). Cheryl Clarke’s jazz accompaniment was a vital ingredient; with at least some credit to conductor David Squire, it got them a Gold.

Macleans College Choir, Howick sang a Mendelssohn song, In Grünen. It could not have been a greater contrast; though a perfectly unobtrusive song, the experienced hands of their conductor Terence Maskill showed in the way they coped with its demands: in tonally variety, subtlety, in exploring its simple, Romantic era sentiment with integrity and vivacity, all of which they carried off with plain honesty. The judges agreed with my assessment of Gold.

Marist Stella, a guest girls’ choir from Marist College in Auckland, conducted by Rostislava Pankova-Karadjov, tackled Louis Armstrong’s last charts success, in 1968, ‘What a Wonderful World’, with open and unaffected sentimentality. Not the way Armstrong would have played it but, with their undulating tempi, care and feeling, he’d have loved them for it.

Mandate, another pun-title choir from Otago Boys’ High School, sang another comic scena ‘Kiss the Girl’ which I’ve heard sung at an earlier Big Sing. They have made the Finale several times since 1996 and have been conducted by Karen Knudson since 1998. It’s a barbershop number, tackled with manly confidence by this 35-or-so choir, with odd accompanying sound effects and discreet witty gestures. The crowd loved it and the judges too: Silver.

Christine calmed audience alarm by disclosing that SOS means ‘Sisters of Soul’. The auditioned girls’ choir of 38 members from Rangitoto College was founded in 1992 by Jillian Rowe, and they have reached the Finale most years since then. Under Karen Roberts they sang Beau Soir, an arrangement of a Debussy song that one might have had difficulty attributing. This short, not very remarkable song, in very fair French, had attributes similar to Macleans College Choir’s Mendelssohn; the virtue of unpretentiousness and plain, attractive musicality. It too won them a Silver.

Another Rangitoto College choir, The Fundamentals (how pervasive is the widespread fashion among pop bands for taking abstract nouns as their names), also sang Mendelssohn, in German: three poems by Heine together entitled Tragödie. Curiously enough, I heard them sung recently at a Bach Choir concert: this performance captured them with a little more youthful enthusiasm. The choice of these songs involved more than fundamentals, and their polish, dynamic variety and tonal precision, singing unaccompanied, were well handled by conductor, Jonathan Palmer. They demonstrated elegant expressive gestures which I thought might have gained them better than Bronze.

Bella Voce, from Marlborough Girls’ College, directed by Robin Randall, has done well over the years. They sang, with gestures that were not really integrated in the performance, the spiritual ‘Aint no grave can hold my body down’. It’s a well-schooled choir but they gained only Bronze. Here too it was useful to bear in mind that the judges’ decisions are based, not on the evening’s performances, but on their singing in the previous two days.

Burnside’s auditioned mixed choir, Senior Chorale, also under Sue Densem, sang the gently sentimental, a cappella, Earth Song. It might not be an especially arresting song but it made an impact through their slow, quiet, restrained approach, with exquisite dynamic and tone control. But there was real integrity here and they made quite an impression. I was not surprised at their Gold award.

The first half ended with The Seraphim Choir, the premier auditioned choir from Lower Hutt’s Chilton St James School, singing another disguised Debussy song, Nuits d’étoiles. Again in quite good French, conducted by Ella Buchanan Hanify and accompanied by Hugh McMillan, the song is hardly a masterpiece, but it is a good choice to offer judges of taste and refinement, who properly awarded Silver.

Wellington Girls’ College opened the second half; their Teal Voices (teal, the school colour) sang ‘Like a Rainbow’ which involved many repetitions of those words. Though he’s a prolific American choral composer of some renown, Bob Chilcott’s song seemed to do the choir few favours, though the performance, guided by Nicola Sutherland and Michael Fletcher employing small groups or individual voices attractively, was imaginative enough. A Bronze.

Viva Camerata from Wairarapa’s Rathkeale and St Matthew’s Collegiate, a guest choir, sang another comedy number, The Driving Lesson. The choir, conducted by Kiewiet van Deventer and accompanied by Adam Gordon, enacted the little skit effectively if without great flair, but its slender, somewhat obvious wit needed more adult skills than a teenage group is likely to command.

Saint Cuthbert’s in Auckland also entertained the crowd with ‘Johnny said No’; their auditioned choir. Saints Alive, under the direction of Megan Flint, with light and deft singing and discreet, comic gestures, carried it off in a certain droll style, which gained them a Silver award.

A mixed choir, Twilight Tones, an auditioned choir within Tawa College’s main choir, the Dawn Chorus, sang ‘Give me Jesus’. Alongside so many choirs exhibiting flair in both singing, histrionics and comic talents, something special is needed in presenting a traditional religious song. The singing, under Isaac Stone, was technically fine, under good, unostentatious control, but something was needed to lift it from the merely very good.

Saint Kentigern College from Auckland sent a large guest choir, Menasing (get it?). It’s unauditioned, in its first year. Their party piece was a highly effective performance, guided by Lachlan Craig and involving bass and drums, plus piano, as well as comic sound effects, of ‘I’ll fly away’. It elicited stentorian teenage shrieks as bassist took his instrument under his arm, like a guitar.

Con Brio is no stranger to the Big Sing. From Villa Maria College in Christchurch, they included a double-ended drum to accompany, otherwise a cappella, the Xhosa song, Dubula. Their party piece was to launch by throwing off their jerseys. But they also captured the African sound brilliantly. The fact that their conductor, Rosemary Turnbull, stood aside to some effect, might have prompted the remark by Tibbles about the conductor as sometimes surplus to requirements.

Wellington College Chorale, an auditioned choir, sang Toki Toki, a Malaysian song arranged by their conductor Katie Macfarlane. Bearing ethnic relationships in mind, it revealed a quality that could have been Polynesian, and it gave the performance an air of idiomatic ease. They judged their movements carefully and achieved a performance that was vocally skilled and visually effective, gaining a Silver award.

Cantala, from up the hill at Wellington East Girls’ College which had been in the news with its triumphant recent international tour also won (only) a Silver. Dressed in one of the prettiest of all the costumes, their droll song, Bitte Betti, was enacted with refinement and restraint but through that achieved a performance that both revealed some fine individual voices and excellent ensemble singing, not to mention the skilful direction of Brent Stewart.

David Squire conducts Westlake Boys’ High School choir, Voicemale, of round 50 boys. They sang ‘Embraceable You’ from Gershwin’s Girl Crazy, a fairly short song, but more than enough to prove splendid balance of the parts and ensemble, all in a perfectly gauged style, gaining them a Silver award.

Placed at the end of the concert was another choir with a punning conflation of a name, Choralation, from a conflation of Westlake Boys’ and Girls’ High Schools. In the previous three years they gained the Platinum Awards and this year had to settle for Gold. They did that under Rowan Johnston with the Gloria from Bob Chilcott’s Little Jazz Mass, which called for guitar, bass and drums as well as sparkling supported in by their pianist.

The Big Sing does not end there, but continued with snippets of a video of the lunchtime spectacles and speeches; the most insightful came from the chairman of the adjudicators’ panel, James Tibbles, hinting at the need to explore a greater variety of New Zealand composers, and of getting more representation of Maori music and singing which are distinctly absent, though glancing at the choirs appearing at the regional sessions, it looks as if choirs with a larger Maori element simply don’t quite achieve the level demanded. (I wonder whether, as in so many aspects of the way in which Maori prefer to follow paths in education and the arts that tends to view their own culture on terms equal to the rest of the world, their music achievements are disadvantaged by disregarding the importance of the universal world of classical music).

Thus the award for the performance of a song with Maori text went to Saints Alive from St Cuthbert’s, from a not very large field.

The Minister for Culture and Heritage Chris Finlayson spoke and handed out the awards, which have been mentioned in the remarks about each choir. His admiration for the entire fabric of the festival reflected what is certainly felt by all involved, that it is probably remarkable at an international level for qualities like collegiality and generosity, for the huge variety of musical styles and cultures that flourish, and that the size of the country makes possible the staging of an event of this kind that reaches such a wide and disparate range of communities.

It’s also necessary to recognise the extraordinary feat of organization by teachers and choral federation workers throughout the country in regional and national phases of the Big Sing festival.

It ended with all 750 or so, shoulder-to-shoulder on the choir stalls in massed singing of two South African songs, just rehearsed, conducted by Andrew Withington, conductor of the NZSSC. And organist Thomas Gaynor, a couple of days before leaving to take up a scholarship at the Eastman School of Music in New York State, accompanied the massed singing, by choirs and audience, of the National Anthem.

 

Young musicians’ mid-winter warm-up with Mozart and Rachmaninov

Posted on by Peter Mechen

Wellington Youth Orchestra Winter Concert

RACHMANINOV – Symphony No.3 in A MInor Op.44

MOZART – Requiem (arr. Maunder)

Amelia Ryman (soprano) / Alison Hodge (contralto)

Cameron Barclay (tenor) / Matthew Landreth (bass)

Wellington Youth Choir (Katie Macfarlane – Music Director)

Wellington Youth Orchestra

Hamish McKeich (conductor)

Wellington Town Hall,

Sunday 12th August, 2012

Aside from the circumstance of this being the THIRD Mozart Requiem performance offered the Wellington concert-going public this year so far (after all, it’s only August!), I thought the program of this concert by its own lights adventurous and challenging. And, regarding the combination of Mozart and Rachmaninov, a well-known French saying – “Vive la différence” can easily put it in an acceptable context.

Looking at things more closely than mere concert listings, one then discovers that, unlike with the first Mozart Requiem performance of the year by the Bach Choir of Wellington, this latest performance did feature an orchestra, and not merely an organ accompaniment. And unlike both of the previous performances (the second one being by the Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir and the Vector Wellington Orchestra), the recent one explored some different musical territories, using an edition prepared in 1986 by the scholar Richard Maunder, which largely dispensed with the attempts of Mozart’s pupil, Franz Süssmayr, to finish the work, uncompleted at the composer’s death.

Maunder’s version, completed in 1986, retains some of Süssmayr’s completions of Mozart’s sketches, but abandons what he feels are the non-Mozart parts, such as the Sanctus and Benedictus. Maunder does retain the Agnus Dei, feeling that the influence of Mozart did guide Süssmayr here more directly. But he recasts the work’s two final movements differently – Lux Aeterna and Cum Sanctis – drawing from material earlier in the Requiem. 

Like others before and since, Maunder considered Süssmayr’s work generally unworthy of Mozart’s, though many music-lovers down the years have had far more cause to thank than revile the unfortunate “johnny-on-the-spot”, given the sheer impossibility of his task. Poor Süssmayr wasn’t exactly a favourite of Mozart’s, either, the composer, in a letter to his wife Constanze, referring to his erstwhile pupil as a “blockhead”, and likening his native intelligence to that of “a duck in a thunderstorm” – but then Mozart was often almost pathologically unkind towards people he considered his inferiors.

From the singers’ point of view (as well as from that of this audience member), the dropping of both the Sanctus and Benedictus might well seem unfortunate, irrespective of considerations of greater “authenticity”. Still, both the on-going conjecture and the various attempts to render the work nearer to what the composer might have “wanted” have kept the music well away from any kind of museum mothballing. In essence, it’s very much a “living classic”, and likely to remain that way, considering that some of the work’s secrets can never be actually told – merely guessed at.

As regards the actual concert, I’ve run ahead of things, here, as the evening began with music from quite a different world. This was the Rachmaninov Third Symphony, a stern test, I would have thought, for a youth orchestra to tackle. Rachmaninov wrote this work late in his composing career, and filled its pages with contrasting and conflicting impulses and emotions. In places, the sounds and themes nostalgically evoke the Imperial Russia of the composer’s boyhood, of Tchaikovsky and Rimsky-Korsakov, particularly the latter composer – Rachmaninov shared some of his older compatriot’s fondness for quasi-oriental themes and orchestral colorings. In other places the music snaps at the heels of contemporary trends, with enough rhythmic and timbral “bite” to suggest Bartok, Prokofiev and Stravinsky.

There are the familiar Rachmaninov trademarks, among them the well-known plainchant “Dies Irae” theme, which pulsates like an electric current through much of the composer’s music (contributing not a little to its deep, prevailing melancholy, and undoubtedly influencing Stravinsky’s famous description of his compatriot as “six feet of Russian gloom”), the brilliance of the orchestration, and the heartfelt beauty of the themes, so candidly and unashamedly expressive. It seems incredible when listening to this work to imagine anybody writing of its effect – “a chewing-over of something that had little importance to start with….” which is what one New York critic wrote after the premiere in 1936. Another, a tad more sympathetically, wrote “Rachmaninov builds palaces with his music in which nobody wants to live any more…”.

Fortunately for those of us in the audience at this concert, conductor Hamish McKeich and his young players (their numbers judiciously augmented by a handful of NZSO members, probably some of the students’ tutors) seemed to pay no heed to such agenda-driven comments, and instead plunged into and appeared to revel in what the music had to offer – a whole-hearted, sharply-etched lyricism, expressed through a brilliant and wide-ranging orchestral palette. Both conductor and orchestra leader Arna Morton seemed to me inspirational by dint of gesture and physical involvement with the music, each readily able to delineate the work’s every mood and movement and show the rest of the players the way.

Arna Morton’s solo playing was nicely turned, as were some of the many wind solos throughout the work – the horn solo at the slow movement’s beginning actually sounded rather “Russian” with an engaging “fruitiness” of tone. Then first the flute and afterwards clarinet (from where I was sitting I couldn’t actually see the soloists) made a lovely job of the third movement’s solo lines leading to the whiplash conclusion of the symphony; while, of the other instruments, Dorothy Raphael’s timpani made something resplendent of the brief but impactful crescendo at the climax of the central movement’s scherzando section.

The richly lyrical moments were what this orchestra did best – the opening soulful “motto” theme, and the movement’s luscious tunes, the second movement’s richly and exotically-wrought archways, and the finale’s dying fall, the melodies and their inspiration spent. In these this orchestra gave its all, bringing a natural, youthful ardor to the shape and intensity of those yearning lines. And the  ceremonial episodes, such as the finale’s opening, had great exuberance, a similar sense of “playing-out” and letting things “sound”. Somewhat predictably, the players found the many treacherous “scherzando” passages in the work difficult, fraught with syncopations and difficult rhythmic dovetailings, as though the bar-lines were booby-trapped and waiting to pounce. To their credit, conductor and players kept going through the squalls, celebrating the triumphs and thrills along the way as readily as coping with the spills – at the end of the day the performance’s overall effect did enough of the work justice for conductor and orchestra to be pleased with its achievement.

Orchestrally, the Mozart was more uniformly impressive, perhaps even too much so in relation to the choir and soloists, whose relative backward placement seemed to put them at a dynamic disadvantage. Of the soloists, soprano Amelia Ryman shone brightly, her lines clear and silvery and always a delight. The others lacked her projection, and sometimes had to force their tone to be heard, stationed as they were just at the foot of the choir. It’s always seemed to me that composers intended soloists’ voices to stand out, rather than be given a “solo voice from the choir” kind of balance; and here for most of the time alto, tenor and bass needed all the help they could get, not necessarily an enthusiastic student orchestra anxious to demonstrate what they could do, to accompany them.

Throughout, both the general playing and detailing of individual instrumental lines from the orchestra was of a high standard – a sonorous trombone solo at “Tuba mirum”, majestic strings at “Rex Tremendae”, and secure brass and strings throughout the final “Cum Sanctis” fugue. The choir sang truly, beautifully and accurately, even if there were times when those voices didn’t manage to get across the weight of tone required to properly dominate the sound-picture, such as in the aforementioned fugue. To fill a Town Hall with sound, after all, takes some doing. I would have actually like the soloists closer, so that I could have more readily enjoyed Amelia Ryman’s singing, and got a better sense of the voices of the other three. For each of them, mellifluous moments of singing alternated with sequences where they seemed to struggle to be heard against the orchestra. Tenor Cameron Barclay made the most consistent impression, though his voice seemed not to have quite the same command and attack that was evident when he sang in the Beethoven Missa Solemnis, earlier in the year.

Still, very great credit is due to these young singers and players for what they achieved, and to their “guiding hand” on the night, conductor Hamish McKeich, who was able to bring the different elements together and preside over their fruitful interaction. The efforts he and others inspired made for an enjoyable and heartening evening’s concert.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bach Choir recovers its earlier renown with fine concert of Mendelssohn and Brahms

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

The Bach Choir of Wellington conducted by Stephen Rowley, accompanied by pianists Douglas Mews and Diedre Irons

Mendelssohn: Six songs to sing in the open air (Sechs Lieder im Freien zu singer), Op 41 and Six duets for voice and piano, Op 63 (with Rebekah Giesbers – mezzo soprano and Ailsa Lipscombe – soprano)
Brahms: Die Mainacht, No 2 from Op 43; Feldeinsamkeit, No 2 from Op 86; Botschaft, No 1 from Op 47 (with Rory Sweeney – baritone)
Hungarian Dances Nos 1, 3, 6
Liebeslieder Walzer, Op 52

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Saturday 28 July, 5pm

This concert had been originally scheduled for the evening, but was moved to 5pm when it was realised that it clashed with the Orpheus Choir’s major performance of Bernstein’s Candide in the Town Hall.

The clash would probably have been more damaging to the Bach Choir than to its big cousin. As a result (I suppose), quite a large audience came to this concert. A good programme was available giving words in both German and English with informative notes about the composers and the works.

The choir was on very good form. The balance and ensemble were admirable and the choir held audience attention through their sensitive variations in dynamics and articulation. Though probably with too few tenors, and perhaps as a whole, not presenting quite the level of vocal polish of the women, the men’s contribution was more than adequate.

Mendelssohn composed the set of open air songs to be sung on a summer evening in a forest near Frankfurt and a letter to his mother described their delightful effect in words that could, with a few modifications, describe this performance. They were, naturally, set for unaccompanied singing, and the choir generally avoided the problem of slipping intonation.  The texts included three poems by Heine, together entitled Tragödie, first published in 1837 in a collection called ‘Salon’, and later collected in Neue Gedichte of 1844. They tell a typical tale of ill-fated love, but in the last poem the lovers’ common grave is the tryst of blissful lovers of a later time,  oblivious of the earlier event. The musical settings did not perhaps capture the tone of fatalism though it was hinted through understated musical figures and moods. The sixth poem, Auf dem See by Goethe, expresses in words and music an optimism in the superiority of present life and love over the longings of a dream world, and the choir captured it in fast, joyous triple time.

Mendelssohn’s six open air songs are hardly masterpieces; the settings follow a conventional strophic pattern, in which the last two lines of the text are usually repeated; melodies are pleasant if not especially memorable.

The other Mendelssohn songs were four of his Six Duets, Op 63, and they were scattered through the rest of the programme. They were sung, with Douglas Mews at the piano, by Rebekah Giesbers, mezzo soprano and Ailsa Lipscombe, soprano; the two voices blended very agreeably and the guileless spirit of words and music emerged happily from them. Again, however, the somewhat formulaic pattern of the settings and their avoidance of anything in the nature of tragedy or fatefulness lent them an air of blandness.

So it was a good idea to intersperse them with the three somewhat more profound and complex Brahms songs, taken from different collections, between the late 1860s and 1877, all sung by baritone Rory Sweeney.  The first, Die Mainacht by Hölty, was a bit of a warm-up for the singer, but he dealt very capably with the second and third songs, Feldeinsamkeit and Botschaft, minor poems but both intrinsically more interesting songs than Mendelssohn’s, capturing a more enigmatic mood and Brahms’s gift for illuminating the words. He managed to highlight the quoted words of the message (Botschaft), creating an effective little dramatic scene.

Diedre Irons joined Mews to play three of Brahms’s Hungarian Dances, in the original piano duet form. With the piano lid off, the sound, at least at the start, was rather coarse, and while Nos 3 and 6 were more refined there was an air of spontaneity about the performances.

Finally, the original version of Brahms’s Liebeslieder waltzes, Op 52, with both pianists, and the chorus (the original was envisaged for vocal quartet). Initially it sounded slightly loose in ensemble and articulation but by the third song things were going very well and the whole half-hour sequence was carried off with a panache and delight, an ever-changing spirit as Brahms was inspired by the light-hearted folk-based words with their little dramas and tableaux, that was hardly to have been expected.

With this concert of not altogether great and profound music, as well as other recent outings, the Bach Choir has recovered its position as one of Wellington’s important choirs, which causes one to look forward to their November concert of Handel’s Dixit Dominus and Vivaldi’s Beatus Vir.

 

 

 

 

Psalm settings from Cantoris at St Paul’s Cathedral lunchtime

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Cantoris: a lunchtime concert: ‘Like as the hart’

Anthems based on Psalm texts, by Mendelssohn, Stanford, Howells, Franck and Elgar

Director: Richard Apperley with Janet Gibbs at the organ

Cathedral of Saint Paul, Wellington

Friday 13 July, 12.45pm

The choir of around 30 took an unusual position in the church, arrayed in a semi-circle at the front of the choir, facing the sanctuary, while the audience sat on the choir stalls on either side and on seats placed between the choir stalls, facing the singers and out to the nave.

Since the concert was opened with words from the (I assume) Canon The Revd Jenny Wilkens, and a prayer, I took it to be in the nature of a service about which it would be inappropriate to write a normal review.

What struck me was the manner in which Richard Apperley (assistant director of music at the cathedral) had succeeded in producing performances from what is essentially a secular choir that sounded perfectly apt in spirit, scale and musical understanding, as if from the cathedral choir itself. Seated very close to the singers, one could not tell what the sound would have been like in the nave, but my impression was of singing that was produced effortlessly, that expanded into the huge space with perfect clarity, while also exploiting, almost ecstatically, the long reverberation that can be such a wonderful experience, with the right music from voices handled properly.

The Mendelssohn anthem, ‘Hear My Prayer’, Psalm 55, is in two parts, each providing solos for a soprano. The first, Ailsa Lipscombe, sang with what one has come to think of as a perfectly pure, Anglican choir voice, most attractive, even and very adequately projected, and beautifully balanced with the subtle organ lines.

Apperley got singing from the choir that was crisp, almost staccato in nature, so leaving the job of sustaining the sounds to the body of air in the cathedral.

The second soprano who entered in the section, ‘O for the wings of a Dove’, was Asha Stewart, surprisingly similar in timbre to Lipscombe’s, though a slightly quieter voice. The balance between organ and choir in this, and throughout the recital, was very happy indeed, and the careful dynamic variations and phrasing was simply admirable.

The pieces were sung in pairs: the second pair opened with Stanford’s setting of Psalm 100, ‘Jubilate Deo’ – ‘O be joyful in the Lord’. Ailsa Lipscombe introduced this and the following anthem by Howells.

Stanford’s piece captured the joyous spirit suggested by the words, and the singing drew my attention to the quality of the men’s voices, particularly the basses.

Howells’s ‘Like as the Hart’, Psalm 42, involved alternating sections by men and women, the latter accompanied by high organ registrations. The effect was ethereal.

The next pair also began with Stanford – Psalm 23 – again with Lipscombe’s introduction which I thought a little too long. But here was another piece by Stanford, with an interesting organ accompaniment, reinforcing a process of revising my feeling about his music, as more and more of his orchestral and chamber, as well as choral music is being heard in good performances.

‘Lift thine eyes’ from Mendelssohn’s Elijah is a setting of Psalm 121. Here, the men of the choir left the semi-circle, allowing the women alone to reconfigure and sing this, now under assistant director Tessa Coppard: familiar Mendelssohn piety, though very nicely sung.

The last pair included Franck’s version of Psalm 150, ‘Laudate Dominum’ or ‘Alleluia! Praise the Lord’, and Elgar’s ‘Give unto the Lord’, Psalm 29.

I was pleased to hear something from outside the English tradition, though the Franck piece, with its almost martial rhythmic character, seems not especially French. The following Elgar anthem was more complex and elaborate, again with something of a martial air.

But whatever the character of the music, prayerful or proselytising, it was the choir’s singing and organ accompaniment, under Apperley that made this a rather unexpected pleasure to have listened to.

 

A Grand Night for Singing – Voices from California, USA

Posted on by Peter Mechen

New Zealand Choral Federation

Association of Choral Directors Inaugural Convention, July 2012 presents:

AMERICAN VOICES

USC Thornton Chamber Singers

Jo-Michael Scheibe (conductor)

ChoEun Lee, Stephen Black, pianists

Brierley Theatre, Wellington College

Thursday, July 12th 2012

After this concert, a pianist friend said to me, at once enthusiastically and (I thought) somewhat resignedly, that “there’s something about the directness of singing that tops everything!” And that was certainly true here, right from the moment at the concert’s beginning when the audience was transfixed by the appearance and solo singing of a beautiful young soprano from the choir by herself on the platform, regaling us with the opening verses of “The Reapers All with Their Sharp Sickles”, a setting of the eighteenth-century American folk-hymn Meditation by Elisha West. The singer was joined by another soloist at the end of the second verse and then by the choir, quietly entering from the aisles and taking up a vocal accompaniment in verse three consisting of cluster harmonies, continuing with verse four and joining in with the last couple of lines with the soloists. The effect was of music gradually spreading through the world, before the first singer again took charge of the vocal line at the end, reminding listeners in the final verse that all shall bring mankind to a day of reckoning with Christ’s Second Coming.

This was how the concert at Wellington College’s Brierley Theatre opened, presented by a choir from the University of Southern California Thornton School of Music. The USC Thornton Chamber Singers group and its conductor Jo-Michael Scheibe were here to give this keynote performance at the July 2012 New Zealand Choral Federation National Conference in Wellington. It was the first of a series of appearances by the group who are undertaking a brief Australasian tour. They’ve since been “across the ditch”, but are flying back from Australia to perform in Auckland at the Holy Trinity Cathedral on Thursday (July 19th), joining the Auckland University Chamber Choir and Choralation (goodness, what a marvellous word!).

Appropriately, the concert was subtitled “American Voices”, indicating much (though not all) of the content as it did the origins of the performers. Two New Zealand works featured, one by David Hamilton, and the other an arrangement of a song Don’t Dream It’s Over by Tim Finn, and other cross-cultural strands included settings of Scottish folk-songs, and anAfro-American spiritual. So there was enormous variety of repertoire and performance style over the evening’s course, which intensified the interest of an audience already held in thrall by the performances alone.

Every item had its own intensely-wrought character, whose contrasts the group seemed to relish and readily communicate to us. Some of the composer’s names were new to me (presumably known to choral “buffs”, though two were those of current choir members, Jordan Nelson and Nolan Frank). A work by Abbie Betinis,  Cedit Hyems, was reminiscent in places of Carl Orff (hardly surprising, considering that part of the setting was of verses from the original Carmina Burana Benedictbeurn) Introduced by a flute solo, the piece brought tightly-worked harmonies at the beginning, which energized into Orff-like rhythms and stimulated engaging physical movement – very syncopated, and dramatically contrasted music. Jordan Nelson’s The Snow I Hated mirrored the text’s “haiku” intensities, tight harmonies, frequent repetitions and magnificently-sculptured chordings (both composition- and performance-wise) – intense “wrong-note” harmonies which conveyed single words such as “away” so vividly.

I loved the evocations of memory stimulated by Dale Warland’s Always Singing, the word “singing” repeated and resonated at the start, as if transporting us trance-like to nostalgic realms, music both of comfort and sadness, the voices’ rich blend reaching into the tonal depths in places, suggesting the roots of human feeling suggested by the composer. And though I can’t really remember when and where I last heard David Hamilton’s Veni, Sancte Spiritus, the music’s beautifully-wrought, deeply underpinned flowering from the beginning, and the frisson of its central cascading episodes straightaway reconnected, carrying the momentums as if on air through the concluding array of amens and alleluias.

Another name known to me was Morten Lauridsen, his Lament for Pasiphae a setting which I didn’t know of Robert Graves’ verses, but relished as one would the company of an old friend. The music powerfully conveys the poet’s anguish of lost love and departed joy, the voices clanging like tocsins, obsessively railing against the “dewless and oppressive cloud” which has blotted out the sun, and imploring what is left of the day’s warmth and light to bring some comfort and resignation. Relief from such angst-ridden sounds was forthcoming with Mack Wilberg’s arrangements of Three Scottish Folk-Songs, the Britten-like “O whistle and I’ll come to ye” canonic-like progressions, underpinned by a lovely four-hand accompaniment, one of the basses from the choir joining Korean pianist ChoEun Lee at the keyboard. The second “My love’s in Germany” outlined a tragic story of a soldier killed in the war and mourned by his sweetheart, the singing a full-blooded lament, the accompaniment haunting; while the third “I’ll aye call in by yon town” whirled us all away on energetic reel-like caperings, voicings and accompaniments enjoying themselves hugely.

Samuel Barber’s dark, Prokofiev-like waltz-song “Under the Willow Tree” from his opera Vanessa was performed by a tenor solo, the emotion ready and heartfelt, the tones full-throated at “Where shall we sleep, my love?”, the piece making a startling foil for Eric Whitacre’s little man in a hurry which followed, almost its antithesis, in fact. Whitacre’s setting of characteristically pithy verses by ee cummings fitted the words like gloves – repetitive, molto perpetuo rhythms and syncopated irruptions, all brought off with wonderful control by the singers – a contrasting, more lyrical section characterizes the “little child” before the piece speeds up with a glissando and dove-tailing syncopations, words and phrases flailing in all directions, the pianist’s turbo-charged energy rocketing the piece to its conclusion.

We next enjoyed a truly revivalist Shenandoah by way of preparing for the choir’s take of Neil Finn’s Don’t Dream It’s Over, stunningly sung and played by Nolan Frank, his “freer” guitarist-vocal style extraordinarily fused with the choir’s concerted accompaniments in a wholly spontaneous-sounding way. Last on the program was the invigorating Ride On King Jesus, an arrangement by Stacy V.Gibbs of a traditional Afro-American spiritual, a tour de force of controlled, energetic singing. In a note Gibbs explained how he wanted the soprano line to exemplify the joy and confidence of faith in “King Jesus” – and some extraordinary stratospheric work from the sopranos towards the end certainly galvanized our sensibilities and uplifted our spirits!

A standing ovation was a “given” in such circumstances, one to which the choir warmly responded with both an encore and a “blessing”, the words of the latter read by the conductor before being sung. It all made for an extraordinarily satisfying and heartening concert of great singing from a wonderful group of musicians.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Varied and various concert from National Boys Choir of Australia

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Bach: Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring
Fauré: Messe basse
Songs by Ennio Morricone, Bruno Coulais, Lionel Bart, Todd McNeal, Peter Allen, John Rutter
Pokarekare ana; Waltzing Matilda

National Boys Choir of Australia, directed by Peter Casey and Philip Carmody, accompanied by Robyn Cochrane (piano) and (in the Fauré) Richard Apperley (organ)

Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul

Monday, 10 July 2012, 5.30 pm

The visiting choir of 42 trebles is the cream of a much bigger enterprise, based in Melbourne, that trains 200 boys in choral singing.  It was founded back in 1964, but this was the choir’s first visit ‘across the ditch’, despite its having visited many northern hemisphere countries, on no fewer than 14 tours.

In addition to producing a fine choral sound and singing all items from memory, the choir had excellent soloists performing in quite a number of the items.

The choir began by singing ‘Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring’ from the ambulatory, and processed in to take their positions on the chancel steps.  The music was taken at a very fast pace, but the boys produced a gorgeous, unified sound that was well projected.

Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for the considerable amount of talking to the audience that the two conductors did, as they alternated in the role.  Neither used a microphone, and the second of the two spoke far too quickly than is audible in this size of auditorium, with its very resonant acoustic.  They may have thought that with a small audience (approx. 50), most of whom were near the front, a mike was not necessary.  But it is.  There was considerable interaction with the audience, especially with the few children present, including quiz questions (most of which were too difficult for the children, but fun for the adults).  All of this gave the boys a rest.

The Fauré Messe Basse, or Low Mass, consisted of four of the usual movements, but without Gloria or Credo.  The Sanctus was notable for delicious echo effects.  The cathedral acoustics were not a problem here; the music was written for this kind of building.  The music was quite simple in style, but potent.  Latin pronunciation was absolutely uniform, making for a clean, open sound.

The song River by Morricone (famous for film music, notably that for Chariots of Fire) was accompanied by a drum as well as piano.  The music was quite percussive, the clear enunciation of the Italian words enhancing the effect of the music.

Next were settings of three poems by Walter de la Mare, by Todd McNeal, a contemporary Australian composer.  ‘Five Eyes’ I knew in another composer’s setting, but this was a most effective one.  The boys sang it in a sturdy and clear manner, and conveyed a picture of cats capturing ‘the thieving rats’.  ‘Silver’ was once well-known to primary school pupils (maybe it still is): ‘Slowly silently, now the moon/Walks the night in her silver shoon’.  The setting had a serene, calm feeling, as did I, listening.  These boys know their music and words very well.

The third song, ‘Tartary’, had a grand character, although the setting didn’t allow all the words to be heard.  These were, however, three skilful settings, sung well.

Three songs by Bruno Coulais from the film Les Choristes (two of them sung in English translation) followed.  They were a very pleasing reminder of a heart-warming film.

Six songs from Lionel Bart’s Oliver: ‘Food, glorious food’, ‘Where is love’, ‘Oom-pah-pah’ (sung very heartily), ‘I’d do anything for you’, ‘Who will buy’ and ‘Consider yourself at home’ were performed with feeling, and character appropriate to each song.  Soloists featured in several numbers; most were assured and communicated both music and words extremely well.

Although it was hard to hear all that was being said, I thought I heard New Zealand’s most famous Maori song, ‘Pokarekare ana’ attributed to Te Rangi Pai (or Fanny Rose Porter, Fanny Howie; a woman, not a man!).  However, her famous song was ‘Hine, e Hine’.  Wikipedia says ‘East Coast Māori song-writer Paraire Tomoana, who polished up the song [Pokarekare] in 1917 and published the words in 1921, wrote that “it emanated from the North of Auckland” and was popularised by Māori soldiers who were training near Auckland before embarking for the war in Europe.’

The choir’s Maori pronunciation was beautiful; the arrangement delightful.

This was followed by ‘Waltzing Matilda’, in an arrangement by Philip Carmody, featuring four soloists in harmony, blending their voices with superb tone.  The choir used an appropriate accent, and incorporated whistling.

The choir then moved to the sides of the cathedral, around the audience, to sing Peter Allen’s popular ‘I still call Australia home – this featured a gorgeous pure note a the end – and finally Rutter’s beautiful setting of ‘The Lord bless you and keep you’.  Suddenly, the acoustics no longer got in the way.  The sound was quite lovely and everything was easily heard.  For me, it was the high point of the concert.

 

Varied, attractive 25th anniversary concert from Kapiti Chamber Choir

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

‘Full Circle’:
Byrd: Mass for Four Voices
Choral music by Katherine Dienes, Felicity Williams, David Hamilton, Rossini, and folk songs
Piano music by Janáĉek and Lilburn
Violin music by Tchaikovsky

Kapiti Chamber conducted by Stuart Douglas, with Carolyn Rait (piano) and Ken Dougall (organ); solos by Helen Ridley (piano) and Richard Taylor (violin, with accompanist Judith Wheeler)

St. Paul’s Church Waikanae

Sunday, 8 July 2012, 2.30pm

The ‘Full Circle’ of the title of the concert was due to the fact that this was the 20th anniversary concert of the choir, and the programme being performed was virtually the same as that performed at the initial concert.

The choir was founded by Professor Peter Godfrey at the request of two local singers: Paddy Nash and Pat Barry.  Peter Godfrey was present at the concert, as was his successor, Dr Guy Jansen.  Stuart Douglas took over last year.

The printed programme provided a list of works sung in each year of the 20. I appreciated having all the words and translations printed.

The singing of the Byrd Mass was very fine – full of beautiful chording and purity of tone, especially from the sopranos.  The quiet opening set the scene for contemplation and plangent melismas (though these were not quite so good as the chords).

The opening was a little uneven, as were the beginnings of some of the other movements.  Latin pronunciation was excellent, and beautiful vowels were to be heard throughout the work.

This was unaccompanied singing of a high standard.  Dynamics provided variety of expression; for example in the Gloria, at ‘propter magnam gloriam tuam’(‘according to your great glory’).

The decision to modernise the translated words in the printed programme rather than use the English words of the period, or of the Anglican Prayer Book of 1662, led to a few infelicities: despite “You alone are holy, You alone are the Lord”, we had “You who removes the sins of the world…You who sits on the right hand…”

In the ‘Domine Deus’ section of the Gloria the basses were particularly admirable, while at the ‘Qui tollis’, the parts were particularly well balanced, and all produced a lovely sound; this continued in the ‘Quoniam’.

The Mass was divided, so that the Kyrie, Gloria and Credo were heard together, then after the interval, the Sanctus, Benedictus and Agnus Dei.  This was a great idea; a sung mass is interspersed throughout a church service, not all sung at once.  The attention is more focused by interspersing it in this way.

Between the longer movements, Stuart Douglas used his pitch pipe; in this first part of the mass the intonation held up well.

The ‘Et incarnatus est’ in the Credo had a limpid quality.  I thought that if I shut my eyes, I could imagine I was listening to an all-male choir in the Chapel Royal in London, for which the work was composed.  (Ladies, this is meant as a compliment!)

The crescendo at ‘Et resurrexit’ was splendidly achieved without loss of tone.  The counterpoint at ‘Et iterum venturus est’ was a fit vehicle for the words ‘And he will come again with glory…’; sublime in both its conception and rendition.  From here to the end of the Credo, there was tricky music to sing, but this choir knew its stuff very well.

‘In the mists’ by Janáçek, a work in four movements, was played by Helen Ridley, who had played at that concert 20 years earlier.  This was difficult music, and as described in the short programme note, ‘enigmatic and often melancholy’.  The pianist in her introduction described the music as expressing the composer’s mental state, his isolation as a musician, seeing what he saw as a nationalist, as tragedy occurring in his country, and to him personally.  She said that he employed folk music, and the inflections of speech, and this was obvious in the andante first movement, which built from a quiet opening to turbulent passages followed by soft cascades.

The second movement, molto adagio also contained folksy sounds, but was more contemplative to begin with, followed by stormy passages that nevertheless used the same theme.  A quiet ending finished the movement.  The third, andantino was again folksy, but also one could imagine a conversation going on between higher and deeper voices.  The tonality was modal

The final presto was not very fast, and there were many hesitant figures (and in earlier movements also).  Faster passages followed, with numerous different figures, having a dance-like feeling.  This was very skilled playing of a seldom-heard work.

The choir turned now to unaccompanied New Zealand music, the first being ‘Jesu, dulcis memoria’ by Katherine Dienes.  I remember singing this in a church service at the Cathedral in Dunedin, as part of an early New Zealand Choral Federation conference.  It is a very fine piece.  The only difficulty here was that because women tenors are used as well as men, the tone is changed, since they are singing at the bottom of their voices, whereas the male tenors are often at the top of theirs, so the effect is quite different.  It was more noticeable in this work than in some of the others.

Next came ‘Exultate jubilate’ by Felicity Williams, accompanied on the piano by Carolyn Rait.  The Christchurch composer has created a piece that is truly joyous, and also thoughtful.

Lastly, David Hamilton’s ‘Nunc dimittis’, a very effective piece with lovely harmonies and a quiet ending.

After the interval, we had the remaining movements of the Byrd Mass.  The opening tonality of the ‘Sanctus’ seemed a little difficult to begin on, and was not quite together.  However, what followed demonstrated wonderful purity in the upper parts.

The start of the Benedictus also seemed also to provide some difficulty, though the pitch at the end was fine.  However, then the Agnus Dei started slightly flat.  The work lost a bit of life at the end, but I think Byrd would have been impressed overall, as was the audience.

Richard Taylor, violin, played with Judith Wheeler two parts of Tchaikovsky’s Souvenir d’un lieu cher, Op.42 ( ‘Mélodie’ and ‘Scherzo’), the composer remembering his stay at his benefactor’s Ukrainian estate.  This young violinist (12 years of age??) performed with confidence, excellent control, a warm tone, and technical mastery.  Having long fingers is obviously an advantage.  He used dynamics well in the well-known and very lyrical first part, and performed demanding runs and double-stopping in the second.  This was quite a tour de force for a young fellow, and, along with Judith Wheeler’s exemplary playing, received a great reception.

Three sacred works of Rossini were sung by the choir with the singers mixed up in their positions, rather than being together according to voice part.  I thought this improved the blend of the choir. ‘O salutaris hostia’ featured splendid dynamic variation, while ‘Ave Maria’ (again the start not quite together), and ‘Salve O Vergine Maria’ were well-performed, with organ.  The last (in Italian, not Latin) was more rollicking in nature and romantic in style.

Helen Ridley returned to play Sonatina no.2 by Douglas Lilburn.

This piece, which the composer had dedicated to his colleague and supreme interpreter, Margaret Neilsen, was also given a spoken introduction.  There was considerable use of the sustaining pedal, which had been clearly prescribed by Lilburn.

The piece had very spare scoring, and featured typical Lilburn rhythms.  The atmosphere of the bush was created with bird song.  The three short movements were mainly slow and dreamy, the ending fading away.  They were played with empathy and clarity.

To end this rather long concert the choir sang in English three unaccompanied folk song arrangements: ‘Early one morning’, ‘O come you from Newcastle’ (both English) and the American ‘Shenandoah’.  While they were all fine, the last was the most telling, with appealing harmonies and a real feeling of longing conveyed in the voices.  The last verse was split into many parts; a most effective arrangement and a lovely ending to the concert.

The choir, through a wide repertoire, proved itself most versatile and capable.

 

Remarkable performance of a noble work: Mozart’s Requiem

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Mozart Requiem by candlelight

Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir, Vector Wellington Orchestra, Morag Atchison (soprano), Bianca Andrew (mezzo-soprano), Bonaventure Allan-Moetaua (tenor), Shane Lowrencev (bass), Douglas Mews (organ), conducted by Karen Grylls

St. Paul’s Cathedral, Hill Street

Wednesday, 6 June 2012, 7.30pm

Hearing a performance of Mozart’s great Requiem, (completed by his pupil Süssmayr) is always an event; it seems a pity that this presentation came so soon after the Bach Choir’s performance of the same work (see Middle C review by Peter Mechen, on 31 March).  Bianca Andrew was the mezzo-soprano on that occasion also.

Prior to the performance, there was a talk by Peter Walls.  He traced the history of the myths around the work’s composition, Mozart’s premonitions of death, and of the various hands that contributed to the completion of the work, at the request of Mozart’s widow, Constanze.

Peter Walls had a timeline of when each event occurred, and a table showing which composer ‘had a go’ at which sections of the work.  He concluded that for well-argued reasons, Süssmayr’s was the most satisfactory completion, although the latter apparently lacked confidence in counterpoint (he was only 21), and in writing for trumpets and timpani, and ignored some of Mozart’s writing.

Some other notes from the talk are worth recording: the work incorporates elements of opera, drama, and rhetorical ideas.  The work is both ceremonial and personal.  The instruments accompany the choir; they do not have much scope for ‘doing their own thing’.  The orchestration is spare, being for strings, organ, basset horns and bassoons, plus brass and timpani.  The basset horns give a plangent, reflective sound.  Some of the writing echoes Handel, and also plainchant, not to mention the material that Mozart was working on at the time of commencing the Requiem: the operas La Clemenza di Tito and Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute).

It was gratifying to see a ‘Sold Out’ sign in the Cathedral foyer, but not so pleasing to see that numbers of the reserved seats remained unoccupied, and that several rows at the front, not reserved, were largely empty, with no-one ushering people into them.

What struck me first about the choir was its comparatively small size; six to each part made for a well-balanced choral sound, but initially I considered the choir too small for this work.  It is the size of the choir (men and boys in his case) used by Mozart for his 1789 arrangement of Handel’s Messiah.

With the orchestra, notably the brass, in front of the choir, the sound at first was too quiet and not focused – it didn’t speak out.  After the mournful opening orchestral phrase, the basses’ entry in the Introit was strong; the tenors’ less so.  By the Dies Irae opening of the Sequenz, the sound was being projected better, and I realised that rehearsals would have taken place in an empty cathedral; the sound would have carried well compared with the performance, when several hundred bodies were soaking up the wavelengths.

Peter Walls suggested that the first movement, Introit, with its walking , might be seen as journey towards death.

The fugal Kyrie was taken fast, as was the Dies Irae.  The organ was employed for almost the entire work, but while it obviously provided a continuo basis to the texture, it was seldom heard through the other instruments.

Apart from a short earlier passage from soprano Morag Atchison, the soloists came into their own in the Tuba Mirum.  Both tenor and bass proved to have exciting voices, though that of bass Shane Lowrencev from Melbourne was not particularly rich, and good projection.  Bianca Andrew sounded fine; Atchison’s voice had a little too much vibrato for my taste, but her tone and accuracy were very good.  All put over the words clearly and accurately.

It might  have been useful to leave a gap in the printed programme between the various parts of the Sequenz, to assist the audience to find their places, since following the words gives infinitely more meaning to Mozart’s word-painting.  However, the concert was advertised as being by candlelight, in which case the printed words would not have been of much use.  In the event, the lights were not lowered until after the start of the Benedictus.  Whether this was deliberate or simply forgotten earlier, I do not know; certainly the choir had their mini-torches on their music folders lit from the beginning.

The Rex Tremendae section started in thrilling fashion from the men of the choir, while the women’s Salva Me was beautifully done.

Recordare began with the basset horns giving a wonderful almost spooky sound, followed by the soloists’ parts intertwining appealingly.  Confutatis again featured marvellous contrast between the male voices and the ethereal women’s voices.  All was delineated carefully, with just the right tone.  Indeed, attention to detail and variation of vocal tone were common denominators through most of the concert.

How wonderful the Latin language is to sing, especially when set by a genius like Mozart!  All those pure vowels!  It hardly needs to be said that in this choir everyone makes the vowels in exactly the same way.

The orchestra, too, was unified.  The strings made their anguished sounds here and in the Lacrimosa.  The players were in good form throughout the performance, although there was not the bite that an orchestra of Mozart’s time would have had, with narrower bore brass instruments, and smaller timpani.

The Offertorium provides contrasts between the legato words against the running strings accompaniment.  The music reflects the words so well that there is a case for having surtitles, as the Tudor Consort did at a concert not so long ago, so that the audience can really tie words and music together, and learn why the composer set the words as he did.  The soloists sang splendidly in this section

Then comes the Hostias; my favourite part of the whole work.  This is heavenly and sublime, with wonderfully gentle clashes and contrasts, before the rapid repeat of ‘quam olim Abrahae promisisti’.

The Sanctus (the first of the three movements thought to be written entirely by Süssmayr) was sung in robust fashion.  Then the beautiful melody of the Benedictus, sung first by the mezzo-soprano, enchanted.  It was well executed, the wonderful chromatic phrase having full impact.

The poignant, even anguished Agnus Dei exploited dynamic contrasts to the full.  The setting of the words ‘luceat eis’ never fails to move, the whole being quite thrilling.  The basset horns and bassoons underlie the pleading tone, while the chords of ‘sempiternam’ give a positive cadence to the ending.  The Communio ‘Lux aeterna’ creates an exciting build-up to the repeat of the fugue from the beginning of the work.  The powerful, intricate polyphony of ‘cum sanctis tuis’ is the dramatic ending.

As an encore, following prolonged, enthusiastic applause, Karen Grylls conducted the choir in an exquisite performance of Mozart’s motet ‘Ave Verum’, also written near the end of his life, but harmonic in structure, rather than contrapuntal.  It was the perfect conclusion to a remarkable evening of hearing one of the noblest works of the choral repertoire.