Tag: choral

The 16th century fashion for the 40-part motet: Tudor Consort sing Striggio and Tallis

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

 

The 40-part motets of Striggio and Tallis and other liturgical music by Tallis

The Tudor Consort conducted by Michael Stewart, with Peter Maunder (sackbut) and Douglas Mews (chamber organ)

Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, Hill Street

Saturday 23 July, 7.30pm

Tallis imitates Striggio
On Saturday’s Classical Chart, broadcast on Radio New Zealand Concert, presenter David Morriss took special pains to introduce the CD sitting at No 1; it was a 16th century motet by Italian composer Alessandro Striggio. The piece, sung on the top-ranked CD by I Fagiolini, was written to be sung by 40 distinct voices, each with his and her own part: ‘Ecce beatam lucem’.Striggio was court composer to the Medicis in Florence and the motet was written for the wedding of a Medici to the daughter of an Austrian noble family, so the music was appropriately composed by an Italian to words by a Viennese court poet (in Latin, naturally).

Morriss departed from custom by telling us that he was a member of The Tudor Consort which was to sing the piece in Wellington’s Catholic Cathedral that very evening, and suggesting that this live performance would be even better than that of I Fagiolini. Enough Wellingtonians (and perhaps others) heard the message to pour into the city on a cold, wet evening, making parking difficult in all the Thorndon streets in the neighbourhood of the Cathedral.

The basilica was packed and the unusual step was taken of opening the organ gallery for the overflowing crowd.

The Consort’s history with the Tallis motet
Now this was a special occasion for The Tudor Consort: 2011 is the choir’s 25th anniversary; at their 20th anniversary, for which founding director Simon Ravens had came out from Britain to conduct one of the concerts that celebrated the occasion. It was the one that included the 40-part motet, ‘Spem in alium’, by one Thomas Tallis; it was in St Mary of the Angel’s church (the first and rather spectacular concert of the mini-festival had been in The Great Hall of the former National Museum – now the school of arts of Massey University).

The Tallis motet had been among the works sung by the choir in its early years – it was conducted during a return visit by Simon Ravens in the International Festival of the Arts in March 1992 – when their concerts routinely filled whatever space they inhabited. I was at that performance, the first ever in Wellington and perhaps in New Zealand. Even more astonishing was the encore – a repetition of the whole motet.

Even without Ravens’ electrifying pre-concert talks, which were similarly packed out, the Tudor Consort’s renown was making a widespread impact.

A peak in Wellington’s musical life
 It was just one of several things, however, that generated a high level of activity and excitement that pervaded Wellington’s musical scene at that time, which was bringing large numbers into choral and other concerts.

There were several contributing developments in the mid-1980s: the inauguration of the marvellous (at least in its first decade) international arts festival; the emergence of a vigorous Wellington opera company; the proliferation of chamber music; the increasing contribution to the city’s music by the two separate tertiary music schools through concerts and an annual opera production by each school; the determined growth and energizing of the Wellington orchestra; and the blossoming of new and the reinvigoration of many existing choirs, stimulated in part by Simon Ravens’s brilliant success with The Tudor Consort.

I might also add that the fact that The Evening Post allowed me, from 1987 to the end, and several assistant reviewers, to cover a great deal of the music, is likely to have been of real importance. Typically we contributed around a dozen music reviews each month.

The 40-part motets
Recent research has shown that it was probably the visit of Striggio to London in 1566/67 to sparked Tallis’s interest in writing something comparable.

At this concert the two motets were sung: the Striggio at the beginning and the Tallis at the end.The Striggio was accompanied by sackbut (Peter Maunder on the trombone) and organ (Douglas Mews); it began interestingly, with certain men’s voices penetrating over others, and it was this character that made the experience rather unique in choral performance. I suspect that conductor Michael Stewart’s concerns were with individual detail and not with a conductor’s normal concern: the blending of voices, and it was the very variety of timbres and voice qualities that were audible throughout both the 40-part motets. So the varying size and grain of voices were free from the usual discipline of uniformity. It added enormously to the delight of the whole performances.

During the Striggio all forty singers were arrayed across the front of the sanctuary, but for the Tallis, only 10 were in the front and the rest were spread along the side aisles so that the conductor spent his time turning from front to rear, from side to side, signaling the bewildering entries accurately.

Stewart in the front of his choir presents a lively image. Not given to overly fussy gestures, it is the raised arms that seem to be carry the music to the place where the composers may have imagined their music was directed. His demeanour reminded me of cartoons of Berlioz on the podium, clearly drawn by an artist filled with admiration for the music he was inspiring. Stewart’s gestures seemed to have a similar inspiring effect on his singers.

The Striggio motet was quite short, perhaps six or seven minutes (I didn’t time it) and, compared with the Tallis, with fewer extended passages in which one could sense the full complexity of all those individual voices. The earlier piece seemed to allow more concessions to the style of the usual polyphonic choral setting with far fewer parts apparent.

While the longer more confident lines of interweaving counterpoint of Tallis create an air of greater permanence and moment because there is a denser feeling in his writing.

The other Tallis pieces
Only about half of the 40-strong choir remained to perform the shorter ecclesiastical pieces by Tallis that occupied the rest of the concert.

One could have thought the various short liturgical pieces were merely fillers between the two motets that had surely attracted the crowd. But all those who came because they genuinely loved Renaissance polyphonic choral music would have enjoyed the variety of music that this one composer could bend his talent to: the more complex music for the Catholic ritual compared with the more straight-forward, vertical harmonies, of the pieces for the Anglican rite. The English words of the ‘Magnificat’ and ‘Nunc dimittis’, are set to music that is conscious of the congregation’s comprehension of the words. The organ accompaniment was significant, even in tempo, though not constant as with a traditional hymn; the ‘Nunc dimittis’ ended with a curiously unusual final cadence.

Being conscious of the difference between the Anglican and Catholic (and both Tallis and Byrd had to tread carefully through the switch-back, lethal, religious ferocity that punctuated their lives) threw a new light on the Latin settings of responsories and antiphons where the spiritual impact was sought more through purely musical characteristics – sonority, flowing contrapuntal lines, the pitting of high voices against a bed of men’s more earthbound voices. The two settings of ‘Salvator mundi’, offered an interesting contrast within the traditions of the Catholic liturgy, the second appearing more sonorous and enjoying the warmth of its polyphony, with perhaps a little more attention to the blending of voices – just to show they could do it.

The ‘Loquebantur variis linguis’ caught the attention through its carefully discordant setting of those words, suggesting the polyglot talents of the apostles. ‘Candidi facti sunt’ seemed to play with the listener by starting successively in three different manners, eventually giving space for the tenors’ central plainchant performance.

‘O sacrum convivium’ used the current styles of polyphony in more orthodox manner, and it allowed the audience to enjoy, if it had escaped them before, the chance to hear harmonies involving more sustained contrapuntal passages.

The last motet, ‘Te lucis ante terminum’, more like a hymn in three distinct stanzas, was set as plainsong in the outer two stanzas and polyphony in the second. These examples of Tallis’s music demonstrated further, both the composer’s versatility as he navigated the reefs in religious storms, and the continued, constantly renewal of the choir’s talented singers and their series of imaginative and enterprising directors.

We await a performance of Striggio’s ‘Ecco si beato giorno’, reported to be the mass for 40 to 60 voices from which motet was evidently drawn.


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

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Capital Choir conducted by Felicia Edgecombe

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

Central Baptist Church, Boulcott Street

Tuesday 5 July 7.30pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Top German Youth Choir on tour – revelations

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Youth choir concert: Christophorus-Kantorei from Germany

Tawa College Hall

7.30pm, Monday, 20 June 2011

Christophorus Kantorei is a choir from a high school in Altensteig in the Black Forest in Germany. The choir has become renowned for its excellence, and the singers tour overseas every four years. Our good fortune was that at present two of the 60 singers are from Tawa, while their father, who organised this tour, works in Germany.

The conductor, Michael Nonnenmann, is a tall, genial gentleman, who had the singers at the tips of his fingers. With the choir and their conductor (all of whom are billeted locally while on their New Zealand tour) were their voice trainer, a tenor, and his wife, a pianist and organist. As well as these tours to other countries, the choir sings many times each year in Germany, has won many international competitions and made numerous CDs.

The choir has a large and very varied repertoire; out of an extensive list of works in the printed programme, in which the German items were translated into English, a selection of 19 was performed, all a capella.

First up was William Byrd’s ‘Sing Joyfully’, one of quite a number of items in English. (As well as German and English, we heard items in Latin, French and Maori). Immediately one was struck by the very clear but full-toned sound, the immaculate rhythm and how all the singers started and stopped absolutely together. The voices were well produced and resonant.

After a short item in Latin by Viadana, we heard a very effective and dramatic piece by Rudolf Mauersberger, written after the destruction of the beautiful city of Dresden toward the end of World War II. The words were taken from the Old Testament book of Jeremiah, but were utterly apt for the desolation left by the bombers. The choir began with an appropriate covered, mournful tone. The singing was very precise, and there were some very fine solo verses.

‘Laudate Omnes Gentes’ by Jacques Berthier, who died in 1994, followed. For this piece the singers were spread round the perimeter of the hall. A solo soprano started and others joined in, part by part, from memory. Its simple repeated phrases led my companion to surmise that it was a Taizé chant, and Wikipedia confirms that the composer wrote much for the Taizé community. It was followed by a very gentle ‘Notre Père’ by Maurice Duruflé, also sung from memory. The singing was well forward in the mouth, and the balance, as elsewhere, was splendid. The piece featured delicate pianissimo singing of great beauty.

I did not know the name Z. Randall Stroope, but he is a contemporary American composer, and ‘The Conversion of Saul’ is a very recent work. The choir rearranged itself for this song, and for many of the items; sometimes this was done in less than a smooth, well-organised way. The piece’s words described Saul’s mission before his conversion “Murder, harass, bind into chains”; these were set in most dramatic fashion, at first in what sounded to me like mediaeval Latin (reminiscent of language in Orff’s Carmina Burana.) There was plenty of fortissimo and emphasis.

This was followed by a ‘Kyrie’ not found in the printed programme. It was apparently by a modern composer, and demonstrated well the choir’s great control of dynamics, and its exquisite tone. Here, the wonderful blend of the choir was especially on show, and the strong movement between chords, which included many discords. The unanimity of sound was achieved by all vowels being absolutely matched; never tight, but open sounds. This was not through unnecessarily wide open mouths, but by the careful shaping of sounds and the use of resonance.

Not every choir sings so well when singing loudly, but here it was excellent, as in the next item ‘Daemon Irrepit Callidus’ by György Orbàn, a Romanian contemporary composer. This started with staccato singing, later alternating with legato. In the men’s solos I heard almost the only slight lapse from good tone and intonation. Generally, the excellence, liveliness, and total commitment of the choir members were exemplary, given that this was their eighth concert around the North Island in nine days. There will be one on each of the next three days; one day off, then three more!

One of the longer pieces came next: ‘Warning to the Rich’ by Thomas Jennefelt, a Swedish composer, written in 1977. This was in English, but it was very useful to have the words printed. It employed sprechgesang (ironic to use a German term for a performance in English by a German choir!) or speak-singing. At the beginning, it was in whispered tones, becoming louder from the men, while the women changed to an Aw sound from their earlier humming. In the second verse all sang the words; later there was sprechgesang again. This was not the only item to make great technical demands, but the singers knew the work very well, and most glanced at their printed scores only occasionally. It was an extremely telling and thrilling work, based on verses from the New Testament: James chapters 4 and 5.

There was no interval as such (we could have done with time to stretch the legs, being seated on school plastic chairs), although the choir had a break. During it, the choir’s voice tutor, Eberhard Schuler-Meybier, a tenor, sang lieder, to his wife Susanne’s excellent piano accompaniment. It was wonderful to hear the opening few songs and a later one from Robert Schumann’s cycle Dichterliebe. Unfortunately we seldom hear lieder these days. I’m told it’s true of big cities like London also, not just Wellington. These songs were preceded by a German setting of ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’, and followed by Schubert’s famous ‘The Trout’. The tenor has a fine voice if not the smoothest tone, and communicated the songs well, singing the words sensitively. The higher notes in ‘The Trout’ were a little strident at fortissimo.

Shorter items followed in the second half, which began with Ward Swingle’s exciting arrangement of ‘Pastime with good company’. One young man imitated a shawm while all processed in. All items in this half were sung without the scores.

Next was ‘Il est bel et bon’, a delightful sixteenth century piece which incorporated some ‘choralography’ (choreography for singers; a term I learnt at The Big Sing ten days ago), as did many of the items in this half.

Two German folksongs were similarly treated to actions, and were sung in very lively and interesting arrangements. ‘Als wir jüngst in Regensburg waren’ was very rhythmic, with tricky timing. The young woman from the choir who announced the items gave us the ‘low-down’ on the story of this song, which involved quite a lot of acting on the part of the choir.

Mike Brewer is a British choral conductor who has visited New Zealand many times; his intriguing arrangement of ‘Pokarekare ana’, was a pleasure to hear. Even if all the vowels were not quite Maori, the choir members all made them the same way, resulting in their usual purity of tone.

We then visited the USA for Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’, which was sung in an authentic American accent and manner, solo and all.

Now for some humour: ‘Short People’ by Randy Newman, arranged by English choral conductor and former King’s Singer Simon Carrington (in New Zealand eighteen months ago for ‘Sing Aotearoa’ in Rotorua) was very slick, incorporating two male soloists, and entered into fully by choir and audience, thanks to very clear words.

The concert ended with some magic: ‘The magic paint brush’ by contemporary Danish composer John Høybye, a brilliant, intricate piece, superbly sung, incorporating a lot of clapping, slapping and stamping, and ‘Magic Song’ by Ray Murray Schafer (a prolific Canadian composer, born in 1933), which incorporated a lot of different techniques, both vocal and physical.

Finally, a hotly demanded encore: Moses Hogan’s quite complex arrangement of ‘Joshua fit the battle of Jericho’ sung with huge energy and style.

It is a pity there was not a larger audience to hear this superb concert, especially that there were not many more students from Tawa College, whose choirs did so well very recently in the Wellington Region Big Sing. They could have been inspired and educated by hearing such accomplished choral singers as the members of Christophorus-Kantorei.

If you are in Wellington and read this in time, do go to St. Peter’s Church on Willis Street Tuesday, 21 June at 7.30pm, when the choir will perform again. Or hear the choir in Nelson, 22 June; Blenheim, 23 June; Dunedin, 25 June; Timaru, 26 June; Christchurch, 27 June.

More and more young choirs enter Wellington region Big Sing fest

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Gala Concerts, The Big Sing, Wellington Region: New Zealand Choral Federation Secondary Schools’ Choral Festivals

Wellington Town Hall

Wednesday, 8 June 7pm and Thursday, 9 June 7pm

It is great to be able to report that an increasing number of secondary school students are singing in school choirs: the numbers taking part in The Big Sing increases every year.

This year I attended the Thursday night Gala Concert, which was the culmination of a day in which 15 secondary school choirs from 9 schools sang three items each. The previous night’s concert had featured 18 choirs from 10 schools.

Each choir has to sing a New Zealand or Pasifika piece, a piece from the Western music tradition, and an ‘own choice’ item, which is often, but not always, a more popular piece. They then choose one from these to sing in the Gala Concert that night. Sponsorship is provided by a number of Trusts, Creative New Zealand, and the Wellington City Council which, I understand, provides the venue free of charge throughout the two days and evenings.

The concerts are very well run, with a knowledgeable and clear compère and efficient stage management. A number of schools have several choirs, so their items are taken in sequence, to lessen the amount of moving around required. During the day-time sessions they are mixed up, which would make for greater interest for the audience, being mainly the members of other choirs.

First up was the Tawa College Dawn Chorus, now a very-long established choir, with over 100 voices. They featured lovely unison singing, and their item (‘Where e’re you go’ by Rosemary Russell, arranged by Glenys Chiaroni, both New Zealanders) had beautiful flute and piano accompaniment. As with all the choirs, singing was from memory. The sound was unforced, with admirably shaded dynamics.

That school’s second choir, the Early Birds, was conducted by a student conductor, Fuatino Malo-Siolo. Like some of the other conductors, both student and staff, she conducted without the score. Her style was very graceful. The singing of ‘We are one’ by Greg Gilpin, was accurate and tone was good; perhaps there was not enough attention to dynamics.

Yet another choir from Tawa, Twilight Tones of about 40 singers, was directed by Isaac Stone. He would be one of a number of conductors who had himself taken part in The Big Sing when a school student. This was exemplary singing, of Hoagy Carmichael’s ‘Skylark’. The difficulties in this piece appeared non-existent to the choir.

A new participant in The Big Sing was the mixed choir from Samuel Marsden Whitby. Let’s hope its participation is continued in the future. In the meantime, they were not secure in singing ‘A Joyful Song’, and did not project enough sound, or joy.

The parent school, Samuel Marsden Collegiate, presented a huge choir, Ad Summa Chorale, who appropriately used movement in their rendering of ‘The rhythm of life’ by Cy Coleman. They truly had life. The articulation of music and words was clear despite the fast pace of the piece. A student accompanist and a harp played by Jennifer Newth added to the enjoyment of the item as did the lively conducting of student Anna McKinnon, a winner, with Fuatino Malo-Siolo of Tawa College, of a conductor’s certificate.

A second choir from the same school, the Senior Chamber Choir, numbering 24 singers, presented John Rutter’s arrangement of the traditional English carol ‘Tomorrow shall be my dancing day’. Good tone and great attention to dynamics were features, plus fine legato singing and superb projection.

The next choir, Nga manu tioriori o Kapiti, despite being from a co-ed school, comprised only female singers. With piano and two student violinists, they sang Elgar’s ‘The snow’. Although well sung, this piece was not projected enough, nor was there the range of dynamics the composer calls for.

Sacred Heart College’s Prima Voce Choir was a large choir, but did not have a particularly large sound. ‘You can’t stop the beat’ begins rather too low for a choir of teenage voices. Nevertheless, this was otherwise a good performance.

Porirua College’s mixed choir evoked considerable cheers from the mainly school-girl audience (why is it that boys’ choirs evoke such greetings, but the girl choirs less so?). Their singing of ‘Fa’amalolosi’ a traditional Samoan song, was spirited and effective. The student accompanist played without score. Rhythmic precision was matched with excellent sound. Movement was incorporated in the performance, and a male soloist (using microphone) was another element. However, the song itself was not musically interesting.

St. Mary’s College Schola proved to be a very skilled choir, in every department. ‘This Little Babe’ from Benjamin Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols is quite a taxing piece, but very effective when well sung, as it was here.

Con Anima from St. Patrick’s College, Wellington is a very well trained choir with a lovely tone. They, too, had soloist as part of their performance – of an arrangement of the traditional Scottish ‘Loch Lomond’. However, the setting of his part was a little too low to carry very well. After a quiet couple of verses in which the pianissimo singing was very fine, the performance became literally con anima.

Chilton St. James School can boast that 20% of the school is involved in choral singing. Their large I See Red choir sang the opening chorus from Smetana’s opera The Bartered Bride, no doubt an item to be presented when they visit Prague before long. Impressively, they sang in the Czech language. This was a very accomplished performance.

The next choir from this school, Contempora, is a junior choir. It sang unaccompanied under a student conductor who also arranged the traditional Maori song ‘He honore’ that they sang most successfully.

The third Chilton choir, Seraphim, did attract large cheers, despite being all-female! The singers divided into two facing choirs, to sing a choral arrangement of Papagena and Papageno’s duet from Mozart’s The Magic Flute’. Sung in German, this was a very classy performance, almost faultless.

The final choir on show was the Wellington College Chorale, which performed in Gaelic ‘Dulaman’, an Irish folk-song about seaweed gatherers, set for choir by Michael McGlynn. Here was precision-plus, and a very effective performance of a song that was very demanding linguistically, if perhaps not so musically challenging.

A pause while award certificates and cups were brought onstage was filled by young organist Thomas Gaynor (a former Big Sing participant) playing Vierne’s Toccato in B flat minor, a grand piece of organ music employing many different sounds and a great demonstration of the player’s skill.

In awarding certificates and cups, adjudicator John Rosser from Auckland, was taking into consideration the performances the choirs gave during the day, not only the single-work evening items. Without going into a lot of detail, Rosser gave some pointers of what he was looking for, e.g. in the Western music pre-1930 selection he emphasised phrasing.

For the New Zealand music segment he awarded third place to Porirua College, second to Seraphim from Chilton St. James, and the cup to Tawa’s Twilight Tones. The Western music section saw awards to St. Patrick’s College Con Anima, Wellington College, and again the Twilight Tones.

For the Own Choice section, Twilight Tones and Wellington College were again winners. Rosser made a few remarks about the appropriate use of movement in the performances, for which he had a word ‘choralography’. He encourage the participants to carry on with singing after they leave school, and urged the conductors to take up courses soon to be offered by the Choral Federation.

Wellington Cathedral of St Paul had made an award for the best performance of an item using the Wellington Town Hall organ (to encourage its use), and this was won by the Wellington College Chorale. The item employing the organ was not performed on Thursday night. The commended conductors received certificates, as mentioned above.

Finally, there was a cup for the choir who appeared to carry out the Big Sing spirit best; it was won by Samuel Marsden Collegiate School.

The evening ended with a strongly sung National Anthem in Maori and English, with Thomas Gaynor accompanying on the organ.


Risurrezione from a new arts trust at St Mary of the Angels

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

La Musica – Sacra I
Böhm: Præludium, Fugue and Postlude J.S. Bach: ‘Komm süsses kreuz’ Biber: Crucifixion, Resurrection and Assumption sonatas Bruhns: ‘Mein herz ist bereit’ Buxtehude: ‘Singet dem herrn’
Krieger: ‘Ihr Christen, freuet euch’

The Historical Arts Trust: Gregory Squire (baroque violin), Pepe Becker (soprano), David Morriss (bass), Robert Oliver (viola da gamba), Douglas Mews (harpsichord and chamber organ)

St. Mary of the Angels Church

Saturday, 14 May 2011, 7pm

The Historical Arts Trust (THAT) is a new organisation, launched at the end of llast month, presenting four concerts this year under the title ‘La Musica’ (though despite that, and this concert’s title ‘Risurrezione’, the music was all German and Austrian, not Italian), in succession to the Musica Sacra concert series organised by Robert Oliver over the last ten years. Only two of the items, both vocal, could be considered well-known. As the name implies, the Trust intends to promote historical dance and other art forms, not only music.

The performers were all well-seasoned at their crafts – experts, in fact – and all have been busy lately in other performances. The novel feature of this concert was the fact that Gregory Squire had no fewer than four fiddles with him, given four different tunings. Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber von Bibern (ennobled for his services to music) was a 17th century composer who delighted in employing scordatura; i.e. the re-tuning of the violin. This was not in order to give the violinist a headache, in having to play the notes on the page in different places on the fingerboard from usual. The technique of tuning the strings differently, and in different arrangements, alters the sound markedly.

The three of Biber’s sonatas played in this performance each employed a different tuning. The remaining works Squire played in, in a very busy evening for him, used the standard tuning, hence the fourth violin. Biber is not often heard – although I have an LP from the early 1980s with Peter Walls’s Baroque Players playing a piece of his, and as I write this review, RNZ Concert is broadcasting ‘Chamber Music from Lincoln Center’, in which a Biber violin sonata is being performed, one in which the violin imitates animals and birds. Biber was considered a violin virtuoso in his day; Gregory Squire can’t be far behind.

Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians says of Biber’s use of this technique: “Bringing some of the strings closer together in pitch makes possible or simplifies the production of the most resonant intervals and chords… The result is a smoother, more easily flowing, richer-sounding polyphony than is possible with conventional tuning. … Mystery Sonata no.11… was planned for a highly resonant performance in octaves, each octave stopped across two strings by one finger.” The audience experienced these effects.

The programme opened with Douglas Mews playing the harpsichord in the Böhm work. This, one of two items on the programme once attributed to J.S. Bach, was no rote reproduction of the notes on the page, nor ‘fork on a bird-cage’ sound. It was an attractive work, sensitively performed.

Bach genuinely composed the next item, ‘Komm, süsses kreuz’, a bass aria from St. Matthew Passion. David Morriss sang, with continuo of viola da gamba and organ. While the recitative lacked a little in ensemble and tone, the aria developed well. It was sung with feeling and evenness of tone throughout its quite wide range. I found the organ, using flutes only, a little light behind the voice and viola da gamba.

Next came the first of the Biber sonatas – ‘The Crucifixion’ Sonata X. The harpsichord accompaniment was not very audible, but perhaps it was sufficient for a continuo part. This was very skilled violin playing. The sonata became fast, and was rhythmically exciting. The difficulties of playing while reading notes different from the usual for the various strings were certainly not obvious. The sonata featured double-stopping, and its ending was fast and furious, featuring the earthquake that followed Christ’s crucifixion in a most evocative manner.

Gottfried Henrich Stötzel is now credited with the composition of the well-known aria long attributed to Bach: ‘Bist du bei mir’. (All the composers in the concert except Stötzel and Krieger were B’s.) Soprano Pepe Becker sang it, with organ and viola da gamba continuo. It was sung simply, in a straightforward manner, quite beautifully. Here again, I found the organ a little quiet in the continuo, compared with the sound of the viola da gamba.

Biber returned in the form of ‘The Resurrection’ Sonata XI. The effect of the re-tuning was more obvious here than in the first sonata performed. There was a marked contrast between the mellow lower strings and the more strident upper strings. The slow, discreet organ accompaniment consisted of seldom-changing chords, i.e. long pedal points (not literally; the small chamber organ is played with the performer standing.)

The viola da gamba begins the second movement with a chorale melody, on which the violin then plays variations, interspersed with repetitions of the chorale (Easter hymn ‘Surrexit Christus hodie’) itself, in octaves, possible because of the re-tuning (see note from Grove, above). Again there was very intricate work for the violin, which was expertly executed. A surprise towards the end was all the performers (except the very occupied violinist) singing the chorale. In the final iteration of the chorale there were delightful key modulations.

Bruhns’s cantata Mein herz ist bereit for bass, violin and continuo was very varied in the treatment of the words, though I thought David Morriss’s pronunciation of ‘bereit’ a little strange. However, this was a piece making great demands on the singer, to which he rose admirably. The words in the first verse which translate as “I will sing and give praise” were very ornate; the composer certainly had a very competent singer in mind. The next verse began “Awake, my glory:. Indeed, anyone would have to wake with the amount of sound declaimed rapidly in one’s ear! The bass’s sound filled the church (which is more than the audience did).

The third verse, “I will praise thee, O Lord, among the people”, featured a lovely violin part (presumably with standard tuning). The final voice, “Be thou exalted, O God”, was followed by very decorated “Amen’; the whole well sung by Morriss. In this work, I felt the balance was better between the instruments. The work was notable for great sound, rhythm and accuracy. The organ came into its own, but was never too much for the other performers.

After the interval came a work by Buxtehude, that Danish-German composer beloved of organists: Singet dem Herrn. Pepe Becker sang, with violin and continuo. The joyous first verse was preceded by a lovely violin introduction. The voice part began low in the register, which we don’t associate with Pepe Becker; she revealed a fine, rich tone. From there, soon there were florid phrases in the upper register, skilfully managed, as always, while the violin part was very exciting.

Then there was a slower calmer pace with lilting passages in the second verse to the words “The Lord declared his salvation”. More vocal gymnastics followed, leading to a lively final verse.

The third Biber piece was ‘The Assumption of Mary into Heaven’ Sonata XIV. Gregory Squire used yet another of his four violins. A wonderful, full-toned opening with the continuo revealed a very rhythmic dance-like piece in ¾ time, lots of finger-work for the violinist, incorporating left-hand and right-hand pizzicato and a ground bass from the viola da gamba, also incorporating a pizzicato section, and variations for violin and organ over the ground. After a slow beginning, more and more rapid ornamentation gave this item the ‘wow’ factor.

Finally, a cantata from little-known Johann Philipp Krieger (1649-1725), only a few of whose many works survive: ‘Ihr Christen, freuet euch’. This time, both singers were involved, with violin and continuo. Some verses were solo, while others were duets.

In the fourth verse, David Morriss’s excellent low notes were rich. Violin obbligato passages were ecstatic, especially in the instrumental interlude between verses 4 and 5, the former being a delightful duet. The fifth and final verse featured great purity of the harmonies and melodic lines, and decoration of the latter on the violin and viola da gamba during the pause after the vocal lines, and before and during the Amen, which brought this charming work to a conclusion.

Concert-goers were presented with an attractively produced printed programme. I’m not sure why this concert was timed to start so early; perhaps there were logistical reasons. As someone who lives some way out of town, I find it a challenge to the stomach to have to rush to a concert in the city that commences before 8pm.

It was a great evening of highly professional performances of difficult and mostly rare baroque music, with a couple of more familiar arias thrown in.

Kapiti Chorale’s Homage to Haydn

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Haydn: Little Organ Mass 
Excerpts from The Creation and The Seasons
Pieces for Clockwork Organ

The Kapiti Chorale, Marie Brown (conductor), Peter Averi (organ), Janey MacKenzie (soprano), John Beaglehole (tenor), Roger Wilson (bass)

St. Paul’s Anglican Church, Paraparaumu

Saturday, 7 May 2011, 2.30pm

While Haydn is an extremely important composer (1732-1809) and wrote in a great variety of genres, an entire concert of his music, not being one of his oratorios or major masses, may appear a little too much of one man’s music in a single performance.

However, the insertion of the delightful Six little pieces for flute clock lessened the effect of sameness.

The Kapiti Chorale must be the best choir around, certainly of its size, for watching their conductor. The opening of the Little Organ Mass was exemplary from this point of view. Most of the singers appeared to have memorised the opening. However, the singers started a little flat in intonation, and this unfortunate characteristic recurred rather too often through the performance. Not seriously flat, but flat nonetheless, especially the soprano section. The church has a lively acoustic, which makes it difficult to hide any inaccuracies.

The indomitable Peter Averi, this year celebrating 65 years since he first began playing the organ for church services, accompanied throughout, as well as playing a solo work. However, even he could not make a digital organ sound like a pipe organ plus string quartet, the combination for which this Mass was written, either in volume or tone. The bass of this instrument seemed particularly dull.

However, there was good sound from the choir, especially from the women. It must be said that a choir composed primarily of seniors does not achieve the brilliance or firmness of tone compared with one having a greater proportion of members of younger years. That said, the choir does very well. The problem for many choirs, of being weak in tenor numbers (and therefore sound) is not totally redeemed by using women. This does not dispose of the problem, since the register and tone are so different. Nevertheless, they were not totally overcome by the other parts by any means.

This being a short Mass, there was not a lot of repetition of the words; the lovely Benedictus solo for soprano was the only movement with an extended setting. This was beautifully sung by Janey MacKenzie, with warm, assured tone and great clarity, light and shade, and graceful legato. The movement featured an attractive organ solo.

The choir entry sounded rather feeble after such a superb solo. While the forte and mezzo-forte singing was fine, the piano singing was poor; final s’s were all over the place. The altos had the most consistent good tone, but often they could not be heard.

Peter Averi was able to come into his own in the next item: Six little pieces for flute clock, a mechanism made for large clocks by one Joseph Niemecz, an inventor who was librarian at the Esterházy court in 1780. Since the original musical device would have been small, it was well within the capabilities of the digital organ.

The opening allegretto was played with detached notes (as were other movements), appropriately for this music. The second, entitled ‘Gossiping over Coffee’ was very realistic. The fourth, ‘The Quail’ featured high 2-foot sounds replicating the squeaky call of these birds quite delightfully. The last of the six, the March, seemed as amusing a send-up or joke as the other movements. The whole work was utterly charming, and given as good a performance as was possible: this, the digital organ could do, especially in the hands of someone like Peter Averi.

Fittingly, the following item was about birds – the Air from The Creation with the words opening ‘On mighty pens uplifted soars the eagle aloft’ (remember, the first writing pens were quills from birds), and continuing on to characterise the lark, the dove, and the nightingale. Haydn did the most enchanting word-painting in sound of these birds, as of the quail. Janey MacKenzie’s solo here showed that she could make the most of this feature. This, and all the choral items, was sung in English.

The chorus and trio from The Seasons echoed the creation of the world in its words about the plenty of the earth. I felt that the choir knew this music better than they did some of the Little Organ Mass. The three soloists were well-balanced, and their words very clear. Clear too, was Marie Brown’s conducting, and this piece was successful. Throughout the concert, rhythm and tempi were fine.

Further excerpts from The Creation made up the second half. It was good to have the printed words and not have to rely on their being always audible, especially in contrapuntal passages.

Roger Wilson began proceedings solemnly and portentously in declaring the creation of the heaven and the earth. The dramatic chorus that followed contains unison passages which, unfortunately, were not always in unanimity. However, the feeling of drama came over well.

John Beaglehole was thrilling in his first recitative, about the division of light from darkness. His aria was well sung, but there was insufficient phrasing or expression. The choir sang the following chorus very well. The demanding aria ‘The marvellous work’ was exquisitely rendered by Janey MacKenzie.

Roger Wilson was very characterful in the bass recitative and aria that followed, concerning the land and sea. His singing was expressive, clarity of words and pianissimo and especially his lower notes, admirable. The organ part depicted the foaming billows, the mountains, plains and brooks with glorious, and amusing, detail.

The well-known soprano solo ‘With verdure clad’, preceded by its recitative, was most enjoyable. The high notes were refined; the repeat tastefully and appropriately ornamented.

After a jubilant chorus, in which the sopranos sang very well, two bass recitatives and aria aroused amusement with their depiction of the creation of the lion, the tiger, and especially the ‘nimble stag’ with ‘his branching head’, suitably given a fugal treatment in the accompaniment. When it came to the flocks, Wilson made sure they bleated. As for the worm, its ‘sinuous trace’ was slowly revealed on the organ and in the bass’s voice, including what must surely be Roger Wilson’s lowest note.

He revealed also some lovely higher notes in the aria, which was sung with clarity and eloquence. Here, the music caused a smile as the phrase ‘By heavy beasts the ground is trod’ was portrayed.

Tenor recitative and aria followed, telling of the creation of humankind. The captivating ‘In native worth and honour clad’ was sung very competently, but there was a lack character to it, despite some graceful expression and attractive tone.

A final recitative from the bass led to the triumphant chorus ‘Achieved is the glorious work’, sung splendidly by the choir, with the organ at full blast.

The audience greeted this with enthusiasm; the choir should be pleased with its efforts, despite my reservations.

Tudor Consort sings Victoria’s Tenebrae Responsories

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Music for Holy Week

The Tudor Consort directed by Michael Stewart

Tenebrae Responsories by Tomás Luis de Victoria with plainchant interludes from Pange Lingua by Venantius Fortunatus; De Profundis by Pizzetti; Three Motets, Op 110 (Brahms); Crucifixus à 8 by Lotti

Cathedral of St Paul

Good Friday, 22 April, 9pm

When I starting writing reviews for The Evening Post in 1987, I was not particularly au fait with very much liturgical music and even less with its technical vocabulary, having not been brought up in a religious family. Coming to grips with the significance of parts of the liturgy like the Tenebrae responories and their use in the church was interesting….

Let me assume that fewer today, even the nominally Catholic, are very familiar with some of the more arcane areas of the liturgy.

Holy Week is the busiest period in the calendar of the Christian church, and the commemoration of the events surrounding Christ’s crucifixion supplied the church with the opportunity for an extensive and complex variety of rituals most of which involved, from the earliest times, the speaking, chanting or singing of texts from the Bible; at Easter, that was mainly from the Gospels. And the events in the story provide for the expression of emotions of every kind, of betrayal, persecution, grief, experience of death both by the victim and by others, and the mysteries of the resurrection. The ceremonies that evolved very early to symbolize and represent the story involved extinguishing candles in gathering darkness (though there was no enactment of that in this concert), accompanied by chant and, from the 16th century, polyphonic choral singing of some of the most richly and emotionally charged compositions in the western musical tradition.

The best, straightforward account of the Tenebrae is from the New Grove Dictionary of Music: I paraphrase: the combined offices of Matins and Lauds on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday of Holy Week. The service is marked by the extinction of 15 candles, one after each psalm. At the end of the canticle Benedictus Dominus all the candles are extinguished and what follows is said or sung in darkness – ‘in tenebris’. The musically significant parts of the ceremony are the first three of the nine ‘lessons’ of the Matins, taken from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, and the responsories that follow each.

The Responsories are just that – responses to each of the readings of lessons at Matins (the equivalent after readings at Mass is the Gradual). It was in the late 16th century that polyphonic settings of the Tenebrae responses became common. Out of the full 27 responsories to the Tenebrae ceremonies, Victoria set 18 of them and just six of those were sung on Friday evening. Each response consists of two parts – the respond and the verse – and the distinction in this performance in terms of voices used and the more hortatory character of the settings, was dramatically rendered.

The choir, positioned between choir stalls and sanctuary, while the audience occupied the choir stalls and seats between, sang with remarkable musical, though less verbal clarity: consonants were often allowed to pass unattended. But the deeply contemplative and grieving mood was wonderfully sustained and the singers grasped every expressive opportunity. In ‘Unus ex discipulis’, dealing with the betrayal by Judas, the descending lines and the highly charged singing described the event and its impact far better than any explicit expression of condemnation or outrage could.

Interspersed between parts of the Responsories and other pieces, were plainchants from the 6th century ‘sequence hymn’ by Venantius Fortunatus, Bishop of Poitiers, Pange lingua gloriosi proelium certaminis. They are chanted during the Adoration of the Cross on Good Friday and so were actually more exactly appropriate to performance on the evening of Good Friday than the Tenebrae Responsories themselves.

This concert included from Pange lingua, the ‘Crux fidelis’, ‘De parentis protoplasti’, ‘Hoc opus nostrae’, ‘Quando venit ergo sacri’, ‘Sola digni tu fuisti’ and ‘Aequa patri filioque’. Long stretches of plainsong I sometimes find tedious, but these were quite brief and, in any case, sung so exquisitely, shared between male and female voices and then together, that they were highly satisfying intercepts.

In addition to the selections from the Tenebrae Responsories and punctuating plainsong from the Pange Lingua, was one of the most remarkable pieces of modern polyphony reflecting the Renaissance style: The De Profundis of Pizzetti. (Pizzetti, 1880 – 1968, 20 years or so younger than his more famous operatic contemporaries, wrote mainly orchestral and vocal music, though he did have some operatic success, for example with his setting of T S Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral – Assassinio nella cattedralae).

De Profundis, composed in 1937, is drawn from Psalm 130. It emerged as a religious expression of great integrity, bearing essential marks of 16th century liturgical music, but with harmonies and colours clearly post-Brahms, and recognizably of 20th century sensibility, and handling of voices. It was a superb performance; one of those that will drive me to explore more of Pizzetti’s music (though I did see Assassinio nella cattedrale in Rome a few years ago).

Then there was the group of three motets of Brahms, late works. The first and third could be compared with the Pizzetti motet, composed lineally in flowing counterpoint, while the second, ’Ach, arme Welt’, had a clear German chorale character, with vertical harmonies. The choir’s adroit stylistic shift was a further mark of its versatility. 

Another composer was called in to end the concert. Antonio Lotti, who lived from 1667 to 1740, about a hundred years after Victoria, continued to compose in the Renaissance style. Music had changed very considerably from the time of Victoria. As well as writing liturgical music (he was maestro di cappella at St Mark’s Venice), he wrote some 24 operas (though only eight survive) and he spent two years as opera composer for the Elector of Saxony, Friedrich Augustus I at Dresden.

The Crucifixus for eight voices from a Credo in F is a famous and popular piece; in turn it comes from his Missa Sancti Christophori, which was written while Lotti was at Dresden.

For this final piece, the choir was spread out across the full width of the sanctuary; it lived up to its promise, melodically interesting with women’s voices in long descending lines against varied accompaniment by male voices. Though the mass itself is written with instrumental accompaniment, in this section only a continuo line remains, and that was of course dropped from the performance, no doubt making the maintenance of pitch rather more difficult.

It brought a thoroughly enrapturing concert to an end, neatly affording a view of the high Renaissance from a beautiful, backward-looking work of the Baroque period. Once more, this superb, world-class choir which is far more than simply an ‘early music’ ensemble, delivered performances of warmth, precision, wide-ranging expressiveness, beauty and impressive ensemble.

Rewarding concert of choral works by two French organ composers

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

The Bach Choir of Wellington conducted by Stephen Rowley

The Seven Last Words of Christ and Toccata No 3 in G by Théodore Dubois; Messe Solennelle in C sharp minor, Op 16 , Naïades from Pièces de fantaisie, Op 55 No 4 and Berceuse from 24 Pièces en style libre, Op 31 by Louis Vierne

Organists: Douglas Mews, Christopher Hainsworth and Emmanuel Godinez
Bryony Williams (soprano), Thomas Atkins (tenor), Kieran Rayner (baritone)

Church of St Mary of the Angels

Sunday 17 April, 7pm

Two days after Richard Apperley had played Haydn’s account of the Seven Last Words of Christ on the Cross on St Paul’s Cathedral organ, an choral version of the story by Théodore Dubois was sung in St Mary of the Angels. If Haydn’s version saw the New Testament story as offering hope and spiritual renewal for mankind, Dubois’s account of Les sept paroles du Christ, only 70 years later, seemed to remove it from the divine world to a bourgeois world where spiritual ideas and emotions are filtered through a style of music more reminiscent of the theatre and drawing room.

That is not to say that in the eight movements (an Introduction and the seven verses that were compiled in early Christian times from various Gospel sources), there were not episodes in which the composer captured the sense and the emotions of the words and the meaning behind them. ‘Mulier (woman or mother), ecce filius tuus’, is the equivalent of the medieval poem Stabat Mater, set by many composers, and part of which used as the following gloss, there was, through baritone, tenor and soprano soloists, an affecting representation of grief in descending phrases. It was perhaps a pity that the two male singers had voices that were rather similar in timbre so that it was often only when singing at the extremes of their registers that I was absolutely certain who was singing.

All three voices, of current students or recent graduates of the New Zealand School of Music, were bright, splendidly produced and fitted the roles they depicted admirably.

And in the fourth Word, ‘My God, why have you forsaken me?’, perhaps the most challenging theologically, the feeling may not have been utterly despairing and uncomprehending, but its intensity created a small tour de force. It so happened I heard Stainer’s setting of these words in his Crucifixion on RNZ Concert on Wednesday morning (as I was finishing this review). And though I find the work pretty glutinous and religiose, Stainer captured the words with simple honesty.

The entire concert was performed from the choir gallery which proved most congenial in terms of sound projection, detail and balance. Solo voices seemed less subject to any undue reverberation, and the choir’s first entry after short verses from tenor and baritone, was surprisingly powerful; I suspect that both the supportive acoustic and the entire ambience stimulated the Bach Choir to perform at a level of distinction that it has been regaining steadily under the leadership of Stephen Rowley in the past couple of years.

Dubois’s work consists of the ‘Words’, sung generally by one of the soloists, followed by an enlargement of the verse with appropriate liturgical texts, all in Latin and sung by the chorus and/or the soloists. The organ, in Christopher Hainsworth’s hands, added very importantly to the interest and liveliness of the whole work.

The first half of the concert was in Hainsworth’s hands for, as President of the Dubois Society, he had grasped an appropriate opportunity to advocate for him. The society is dedicated to the revival of attention to this neglected composer, as much in France as other countries. He had chosen his exhibit for the court very well. It is interesting to recall that Dubois had been director of the Paris Conservatoire during the time that Ravel was being repeatedly failed for the Prix de Rome, though he actually resigned just before Ravel’s last (unsuccessful) attempt.

He played Dubois’s most familiar organ piece, his Toccata in G, having warned us not to imagine that Dubois had merely imitated Widor: Dubois’s toccata came first. It was a splendid display, employing the organ’s brilliant capacities with a sure instinct for effective registrations.

After the interval there were another two organ solos – by the concert’s ‘other’ composer, Louis Vierne. Thirty years younger than Dubois, Vierne’s music is far removed from the theatre-dominated music of his predecessor: impressionism and fastidiousness are the hallmarks. Douglas Mews played the much anthologized Naïades, aqueous and luminous; and then the Berceuse from Op 31 was played by Emmanuel Godinez, still at secondary school – St Patrick’s College, who was last year’s Maxwell Fernie Trust scholar. His performance of this quiet piece was of course no spectacle, but sensitive and poetic.

Vierne’s Messe Solennelle, written around 1900, was accompanied at the organ by Douglas Mews; it does not include the ‘Credo’. Again, the organ’s part was distinctive and refined, but not without dramatic moments, in which some of the more colourful, occasionally ‘peasant’ registrations, lent interest to a work whose refinement and subtlety might otherwise have deprived it of variety and drama. The choir’s performance was again remarkably confident and robust, though when necessary, as in the ‘Benedictus’ and in the undemonstrative ‘Agnus Dei’, the singing was of a delicacy and calm that brought the concert to a moving conclusion.

If Dubois’s life was fairly untroubled, Vierne’s was a tale of loss and misfortune. He was born near blind; he was deeply distressed by a divorce from his wife; his brother and son were killed in the First World War; he injured a leg in a street accident which took a long time to mend, and he had to relearn his pedal technique at the organ. And though he held the presitigous post of organist at Notre Dame Cathedral, the organ was in a state of serious disrepair through most of his time. And the story of his death during his 1750th recital in the cathedral rests among the strange semi-myths of music.

His recital was to end with two improvisations on submitted themes; he read the first theme in Braille, then selected the stops he would use; he suddenly pitched forward, and fell off the bench as his foot hit the low E pedal of the organ. He lost consciousness as the single note echoed throughout the church, and the story goes that the congregation only realised something was wrong as the note continued to sound. The latter is apocryphal however as his friend Maurice Duruflé was beside him at the time. But he had thus fulfilled his oft-stated lifelong dream – to die at the console of the great organ of Notre-Dame.

Orpheus Choir triumphs with the St Matthew Passion

Posted on by Peter Mechen

JS BACH – St. Matthew Passion

Paul McMahon – Evangelist; Michael Leighton-Jones – Jesus; Jenny Wollerman – soprano; Claire Barton – alto; Andrew Grenon – tenor; Daniel O’Connor – bass
Choristers of Wellington Cathedral of St.Paul; Orpheus Choir of Wellington
Douglas Mews – continuo / Robert Oliver – viola da gamba
Vector Wellington Orchestra
Michael Fulcher – conductor

Wellington Town Hall

Sunday, 10th April, 2011, 6.30pm

From a mere listener’s point of view I invariably approach the prospect of attending a performance of Bach’s most monumental undertaking with keen anticipation tempered by feelings of mild anxiety. The work always astonishes with its capacity (as observed by the redoubtable Professor Frederick Page, quoted in the program notes) to furnish “a glimpse into eternity”; though performances can sometimes suggest eternity in more uncomfortably temporal ways, more especially in church settings where the seating seems designed for the infliction of on-going penance upon listeners, ahead of repose and solace. I’m therefore happy to report that this was a performance whose beauties, energies and overall focus made for an enjoyable and involving musical experience throughout.

Michael Fulcher’s direction of the work’s ebb and flow seemed to me a key element – in his hands the music unfolded with a naturalness of utterance that enabled the music’s essential character at any given moment to shine forth to its advantage. There were two or three moments that I felt worked less well than they might, but in the overall scheme so much seemed right, that our engagement in what was being played and sung never faltered. The work’s very opening, ‘Komm, ihr Töchter’, was splendidly launched by both orchestra and choir, Fulcher’s lilting direction enlivening the lines and textures while encouraging from the musicians plenty of pointed phrasing, the sound-picture both focused and beautifully transparent. Only in the difficult Aria for Alto and Chorus ‘Ach! nun ist mein Jesus hin!’ that opens the second part did I catch a sense of things being slightly out-of-sync, the music’s different elements working hard to try and gell, the various dove-tailings of the lines a truly precarious business.

Above all, there’s a story being told by this music, and in this respect the performance delivered splendidly – I thought the Evangelist Paul McMahon excellent in his dramatic focus, so alive to the text’s possibilities and so fluent a technique as to do his interpretation full justice. The other soloists, including several from the body of the choir taking minor but still significant roles, played their part in realizing the drama and pathos of the story. Perhaps not as visceral and graphic as the exchanges in Bach’s other great Passion, that of St.John, these nevertheless came resoundingly alive throughout the recitatives, giving us a real sense of the work’s inexorable progress towards that mystical fusion of death and fulfillment that accompanies godly sacrifice in Christian and non-Christian cultures alike.

Each of the soloists “entered” his or her roles in complete accord with the proceedings – soprano Jenny Wollerman, though over-tremulous of voice in places, brought her dramatic instincts marvellously to bear in episodes such as her recitative ‘Er hat uns allen wohl getan’ and aria ‘Aus Liebe’, whose sequence, together with some beautiful wind-playing at the beginning made a truly affecting impression. I was also much taken with the voice of the alto, Claire Barton, whose bright, slightly plangent tone-quality gave life and meaning to her utterances, despite some slightly ungainly moments in passagework here and there – obviously a voice to listen out for in years to come. Right from her opening recitative ‘Du Lieber Heiland du’, leading into the aria ‘Buß und Reu’, her tones struck the lines squarely and resonantly, to memorable effect, again supported by on-the-spot instrumental duetting and continuo playing (flutes and solo ‘cello).

Of the men, baritone Michael Leighton-Jones, long-time resident in Australia, made a welcome return to Wellington as a sonorous, dignified Jesus, never over-playing the drama (as befits the role’s god-like dignity of utterance), but often touching this listener with the resonant simplicity of his tones, emphasizing the text’s and music’s humanity and vulnerability. Promising performances came from his two younger colleagues, tenor Andrew Grenon, and bass Daniel O’Connor, each of whom had taxing arias to grapple with, and in both cases emerging with considerable credit. Despite the occasionally strained note, Grenon took to his recitative ‘O Schmerz!’ and aria ‘Ich will bei meinem Jesu wachen’ with real commitment, making something truly heartfelt out of ‘Er solo vor fremden Raub bezahlen’, and bringing real “point” to his interaction with the choir throughout both recitative and aria. I loved the vivid “plodding” quality of the accompaniment to Grenon’s recitative ‘Mein Jesus schweigt zu falschen Lügen stille’, the combination of organ and viola da gamba here and throughout the aria most affecting.

Daniel O’Connor did well negotiating Michael Fulcher’s urgent speeds during the bass aria Gerne will ich mich bequemen, after delivering a well-rounded and sonorous recitative ‘Der Heiland fällt vor seinem Vater nieder’; and again survived the bluster of a spanking pace for ‘Gebt mir meinem Jesum wieder!’
He demonstrated a fine feel for line during all of his recitatives, relishing the beautiful Vivaldi-like pictorial writing for both voice and instruments of ‘Am Abend, da es kühle war’ (a kind of Bachian ‘In the cool, cool,cool of the evening…’!), even if both soloist and orchestra struggled a bit with the ensuing aria ‘Mache ditch, mien Herze, rein’, trying to do justice to the syncopated figures and getting a just voice/instrumental balance. Of the solo voices from the choir, special mention needed to be made of Kieran Rayner’s true-toned Pontius Pilate, and Thomas Barker’s angst-ridden Peter, the disciple who denied his Master three times.

True-toned and eagerly responsive throughout, the Orpheus Choir sang like angels, whether divided into two antiphonal groups or en masse, completely at one with Michael Fulcher’s overall conception of the music. At first I thought the more dramatic choral interjections were going to lack sufficient urgency and bite, as with the choir’s contributions to the soprano and alto duet ‘So ist mein Jesus nun gefangen’, but the immediately subsequent ‘Sind Blitze, sind Donner’ had all the vehemence one could want, as did the accusatory cries of ‘Er ist des Todes schuldig!’ in response to Kieran Raynor’s vengeful High Priest. Elsewhere, the voices brought just the right amalgam of radiance and gravitas to the chorales, as exemplified by the wonderful ‘Wie wunderbarlich ist doch diese Strafe!’ in the “Jesus before Pilate” section of the work; and a winning tenderness to the exchanges with the soloists in the penultimate recitative ‘Nun ist der Herr zur Ruh gebracht’. It was fitting that, in tandem with the orchestra, the choir had the last say, delivering the words with the same focus, fervor and vocal splendor with which the same voices had begun the journey a couple of hours before. Contributing with bright, bell-like tones to the choral sonorities as well were the Choristers of Wellington Cathedral of St.Paul, dressed as for a church service, and contrasting as such with the secular severity of the main choir’s black attire.

Yet another bastion of the performance was the Vector Wellington Orchestra, its playing for Michael Fulcher unfailingly stylish and characterful, whether from the groupings of strings spread across two antiphonally-placed orchestras or among the various combination of winds whose tones enlivened many a texture along the way. Further interest was generated by fine solo continuo playing from both ‘cellist Paul Mitchell and viola da gamba specialist Robert Oliver (though the conductor’s rapid tempo for the bass aria ‘Komm, süßes Kreuz’ resulted in Robert Oliver’s viola da gamba accompaniment sounding uncharacteristically breathless). Organist Douglas Mews as well contributed unfailingly secure support in the continuo role. In sum, the performance was of a concerted splendour, with the music-making’s refulgent glow warming hearts and satisfying intellects alike – an achievement of which the Orpheus Choir and its various cohorts can, in my opinion, be justly proud.

Kapiti choir’s farewell to Guy Jansen: Serenade to Music

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Kapiti Chamber Choir’s Farewell to musical director Guy Jansen

Soloists: Janey MacKenzie, Linden Loader, Michael Gray, Roger Wilson and an orchestra, with Jonathan Berkahn – organ

Haydn: Te Deum; Bruckner: Ave Maria; Duruflé: ‘Kyrie’ from his Requiem; Debussy: ‘Dieu, qu’il la fait bon regarder’; Stravinsky: Pater Noster; Franz Biebl: Ave Maria; Vaughan Williams: Serenade to Music; Handel: three choruses from Messiah (‘Hallelujah’, ‘Worthy is the lamb’, ‘Amen’)

Waikanae Memorial Hall

Sunday 10 April, 2.30pm

Guy Jansen took up the post of musical director of the Kapiti Chamber Choir after founding conductor Peter Godfrey retired in 2007. Now, having become chairman of the New Zealand Choral Federation and becoming more involved in educational activities, he was giving his last concert with the choir.

The hall, which is designed basically for indoor sports, with a high roof, presents difficulties for music, though the recent construction of a recessed stage for chamber groups has been an improvement, at least for those near the players. But it was of no use to a 40-voice choir,  raised on benches, and a 28-piece orchestra, all on the floor; and it wasn’t helped by a curtain that covered the recess, absorbing some of the sound.

The concert opened with Haydn’s Te Deum, employing the orchestra. It comes from late in Haydn’s career, the period of the last half dozen masses. Though it’s not the equal of the best of those masses, the effects of careful rehearsal were evident and it was an arresting start to the concert. Even though one was grateful for the presence of an orchestra instead of an organ, it was the vocal part that was generally more polished and energetic than the orchestra: the brass instruments were not entirely integrated either with the strings or the choir.

In Bruckner’s Ave Maria, an a cappella piece that opened with women’s voices alone, the choir was spread, in groups, out across the full width of the hall, illuminating parts very nicely, and it offered the singers perhaps a better opportunity to shine.

Maurice Duruflé’s Requiem has become popular in recent decades, and it gave the choir the double opportunity – to demonstrate its skill in quasi-plainchant and in a 20th century French idiom; rather restrained at the start, the singers became more lively as it moved along.

One of Debussy’s three unaccompanied choral songs, ‘Dieu, qu’il la fait bon regarder’, might have seemed an odd choice, but it was Guy Jansen’s obvious aim to demonstrate his choir’s versatility. With careful French pronunciation, and conducted by Bridget O’Shanassy, the singing nevertheless showed quite understandable signs of intonation shakiness at certain moments, such was the choir’s conspicuous exposure in this difficult piece.

There was no let-up from the challenging music with Stravinsky’s Pater noster, a coldly powerful piece delivered without much dynamic variation; it had the character of chant in spite of its somewhat stark harmonies.

The conductor introduced the Ave Maria by Franz Biebl, an Austrian-born American composer, as his only composition to have found favour. Its melodic character was clear and the solo parts, beautifully sung by all three – soprano, tenor and bass (Janey MacKenzie, Michael Gray and Roger Wilson) – gave it interesting variety.

If there was some diffidence in the performances in the first half, Vaughan Williams’s Serenade to Music which opened the second, was a more striking demonstration of what they could do. The orchestra opened with very encouraging confidence and good ensemble, and the choir (the piece was originally for sixteen solo voices, but we heard the composer’s arrangement for four soloists and choir) sounded well rehearsed and filled with affection. Here, the soloists were occasionally a bit stretched, but all four, now including mezzo Linden Loader who sang the phrase from ‘Music! Hark!…’ comfortably with special warmth, were individually striking as well as integrating beautifully with the choir and the orchestra. The charming violin solo was beautifully handled by Sharon Callaghan.

The three choruses from Messiah were also vigorous and well sung, particularly the ‘Allelujah’ in which the audience was invited to join. As Guy Jansen stepped aside after long applause, baritone Rodney Macann came forward to sing a spiritual, unaccompanied apart from some gentle intoning from the choir, ostensibly a spontaneous gesture. It brought a very appropriate occasion to a nice conclusion.