Friday 13 September 2024

From the Celestial Hills - The University of Glasgow Chapel Choir perform a fascinating range of sacred Scottish choral repertoire from across five centuries


The University of Glasgow Chapel Choir was reestablished in the 1950s, but choral singing at the university goes back centuries. The choir have recorded a fascinating collection of sacred Scottish choral works, much of it little known, including a number of first commercial recordings of recent works. The title of the album, From the Celestial Hills, comes from their opening track, Abbeville. Composed by Elisha James King (1821-1844), it had an alto line added later, and has been arranged here by the Director of Chapel Music and conductor of the choir, Dr Katy Lavinia Cooper. The choir immediately demonstrate their secure and full sound, with bright sopranos on the long lines of this strong opener. This is immediately followed by a bouncing seventeenth-century carol, Ecce Novum Gaudium, arranged by Kenneth Elliot (1929-2011) a former lecturer at the university. The choir show themselves to be adept in the smooth plainchant of Arora Rutilat, which also features a fine solo from soprano Eve Harling, and in Sheena Phillips’ (b.1958) arrangement, the harmonies grow more complex, without detracting from the purity of the original line. What, Heard Ye Not? was composed by Frederick Rimmer (1914-1998), who was responsible for reestablishing the choir, and sets an old English carol. Angular sopranos are set against the organ (played here as on other tracks by Dr Kevin Bowyer (b.1961)), with other voices joining, all delivering the text with precise diction. There are only moments of imitative ends of line, the upper and lower voices remaining mostly in unison with striking interjections from the organ. Other highlights here include Katy Lavinia Cooper’s (b.1979) own Like a Lost God, beginning with lower voices over a kind of drone from upper voices, then roles are switched. Two solo sopranos (Eve Harling again, with Sophie Boyd) intertwine beautifully as the choral textures build up. James MacMillan (b.1959) of course had to be represented here, and his strikingly effective For a Thousand Years, with its murmuring repetition and constant movement from unison through clashing seconds to complex crunchy chords and back again, building to a glorious climax, then a dying ending. The singers confidently manage the challenges here, and Cooper shapes the dynamic trajectory well. Jumping back more than five centuries, The Sang of the Thrie Childrein by John Angus (fl.1543-1595) is a spirited hymn, setting verses from the Benedicite. It has great energy, and Cooper and the choir inject effective dynamic variety across the verses. Here and elsewhere it would be nice to have seen the texts – the singers’ diction is exemplary throughout, but the text here is a little trickier! Martin Dalby’s (1942-2018) Et Resurrexit is the most substantial work here, some six and a half minutes long, and begins and ends with quiet organ. The choir, particularly the sopranos manage their sudden entries and edgy, short rhythmic phrases well, as well as smoothly blended sound on the longer lines. In contrast, Rory Boyle’s (b.1951) O Sacrum Convivium is a mostly close syllabic setting, with crunchy harmonies and a mood of mystery, which the singers convey successfully here. There are lots of other gems to be discovered here, but the disc ends with a sweet and gently lilting setting of Ave Regina Caelorum by Kenneth Tay (b.1992), also a bass in the choir. It builds pleasingly to allow the choir to produce a full sound, and the tenors deserve particular mention for their poise at the end. This is a fascinating collection, demonstrating the choir’s clear command across a variety of repertoire, and there are many works here that other choirs may wish to investigate. 


The University of Glasgow Chapel Choir

 

Thursday 12 September 2024

Baillie & Yandell impress in striking Crosse, restless Fauré, and lyrical Ravel

Cellist Alexander Baillie studied with André Navarra and Jacqueline du Pré, and has had an extensive career as a soloist, chamber musician and teacher, and has recently returned to the UK after his tenure as Professor of Cello at the Hochschule für Musik in Bremen. On his recent disc with First Hand Records, he was joined by pianist Nigel Yandell, who has an equally varied career, as soloist, collaborative pianist and teacher. Both worked with the London Sinfonietta, and it was their partnership that led to the desire to realise a new performing edition of Gordon Crosse’s (1937-2021) 
Wanderings. The work was originally recorded by Baillie with pianist Andrew Ball when it was composer back in 1983. This revival was originally intended for Crosse’s 80th birthday in 2017, but delays and then COVID delayed the project, and sadly Crosse died aged 83 in 2021. Crosse had a relatively successful period in the 1960s and 1970s, writing choral and operatic works for the Three Choirs Festival and Sadlers Wells, as well as orchestral, chamber and vocal pieces. He moved into computer programming and music technology, but returned to composition later, completing four more symphonies and four more string quartets.

 

Crosse’s Wavesongs is a fascinating work which begins with a long introduction, Deep Sea. From empty space, glassy cello harmonics emerge, with rumbles and a persistent semitone pattern. It’s so quiet and mysterious, it’s initially hard to discern what’s happening, and low piano tolls hint of something in the distant depths of the ocean. Slow movement on both instruments develops, with fluttering from the cello and changing from the piano. Sea Shanty then emerges, with a lilting melody developing on the cello. Agitated repetition on the piano is taken over by the cello, building to wild piano scales and high wailing from the cello in Troubled WavesStorm which follows is actually quieter, with rumbling turbulence, before piano strikes of lightening break through. The swinging shanty rhythms return over relentless movement in Cruel Sea, before calm arrives in Aria, cluster chords releasing into a soothingly harmonic melody. Turbulence returns in Tempest, with wild running piano scales and violent cello explosions. By now, the cello is screaming in its upper registers against repeated high piano notes in Lost at SeaHomeward Bound is spiky and fragmentary with slithering, glassy cello. A train-like rhythm gets going, and there’s little let-up, until the piano slows first, and finally they both stop. Calm returns in Peace and Enlightenment, and the high cello harmonics of the very opening are back. Everything slows, with a final cry of the shanty tune from the cello, and quiet piano chords bringing the journey to a close. This is a highly effective piece, with evocative use of both instruments, and Baillie and Yandell’s performance is engaging, making coherent sense of this complicated and ever shifting score. 

 

First on the disc comes a rendition of Fauré’s Cello Sonata No. 1. Both of his sonatas for the instrument came from the latter period of his life, when he was plagued by distortion of sound and increasing deafness. The first Cello Sonata, from 1917, is a compact work of three movements. The jumpy, impetuous start sets the mood of restlessness, and lyricism when it comes has edgy harmonic twists, meaning the music never relaxes. Despite the intensity, Baillie is never too weighty, and Yandell rises to the demanding persistence of the piano part. The central Andante is warmer, and here Baillie’s lyricism is underpinned by delicate chords from Yandell. The sense of turbulence from the opening movement creeps in, and the middle of the movement moves into wistful sadness. The Finale has greater drive, and a conversation dances along between the two instruments. Baillie’s melodic line sings, if occasionally becoming a little astringent at the top, and both drive through to a spirited, joyful finish. 

 

They end their recording with an arrangement for cello and piano of Ravel’s Violin Sonata No. 1 in A minor. This was a very early work, but was not published until 1975. It works very well on the cello, particularly in the wistful, wandering opening, with the piano responding with rippling textures. There are lots of lyrical lines for the cello, and plenty of rhapsodic development of the material from both instruments. Emphatic octaves from the cello lead to a yearning climax, then as the opening materials returns, substantially transformed, a more relaxed, summery mood is established, leading to a light, major key conclusion. Baillie and Yandell make a great case for this arrangement here.

 

The two French works provide an interesting contrast to the striking work by Crosse, and allow Baillie and Yandell to demonstrate their command in varied repertoire for cello and piano.


Various. 2023. Fauré, Crosse, Ravel. Alexander Baillie, Nigel Yandell. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR152.

 

 

Handel's Messiah overpowered by massed forces to close the Proms Choral Day

Messiah at the BBC Proms Choral Day
© BBC/Andy Paradise
Nardus Williams (soprano)
Helen Charlston (mezzo-soprano)
Ashley Riches (bass-baritone)

Gavin Carr (coordinating chorus-master)

John Butt (conductor)

Helen Charlston
© BBC/Andy Paradise

7pm, Saturday 7 September 2024

 

George Frideric Handel (1685-1759): Messiah
(orch. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791))

'Conductor John Butt had a massive juggernaut to control and, with the best will in the world, nuance was always going to be a challenge. The Academy of St Martin in the Fields played with precision and lyricism, but in solo arias and recitatives, they were often sadly just too loud to allow room for the soloists’ subtleties of expression'.

John Butt conducts Messiah
© BBC/Andy Paradise

'Tenor Benjamin Hulett 
opened with a gently sustained “Comfort Ye”, followed by a nimble “Ev’ry Valley”.... When Mozart got out of the way and left things to strings alone for “Behold, and see”, (Helen) Charlston shone.... Soprano Nardus Williams delivered pure tone in “He shall feed his flock”, again, muted strings allowing for delicate colour....Bass-baritone Ashley Riches’ penetrating tone cut through the textures well'.

'The Philharmonia Chorus formed the semi-chorus (still 120 singers), delivering confident precision in the fiddlier choruses'.

'The fully combined chorus produced a phenomenally powerful sound, and this was used to dramatic effect for “Wonderful Counsellor” in “For unto us a child is born”'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here




Wednesday 11 September 2024

Rattle and the Bavarian RSO offer a glimmer of hope in epic Mahler 6

Sir Simon Rattle conducts the
Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
© BBC/Chris Christodoulou

Sir Simon Rattle (conductor)

8pm, Friday 6 September 2024


Gustav Mahler (1860-1911): Symphony No. 6 in A minor (1903-4, rev. 1906)





The Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra percussionists
© BBC/Chris Christodoulou

'With short phrases thrown around the orchestra, detail can easily get lost, or lack connection. Yet Rattle (without score) led from one to the other, and just watching him alone delivered complete coherency'.  

'... alone at the top of the staging was a large, beehive-like wooden box on legs. At the appointed moment, the percussionist rose from his seat below, solemnly walked up the steps, picked up the huge mallet, and then scared the living daylights out of the audience in the choir stalls behind, hitting the box with such force it jumped around on the stage. Thankfully it didn’t fall to bits, and no swarm of bees emerged'.

'In the Scherzo, Rattle contrasted the violent, twisted march with the pecking, petulant woodwind, but also brought out the laughing violas alongside the shrill E flat clarinet at the movement’s end'. 

The Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra woodwinds
© BBC/Chris Christodoulou

'From the dreamlike opening with weirdly twanging, muted harp effects and more offstage cowbells, to the galloping brass and trilling birdlike woodwinds, the BRSO demonstrated their unquestionable prowess and ability to produce stunning orchestral colour'.

'In the finale, Rattle and the BRSO excelled'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.


Sir Simon Rattle & the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
© Nick Boston






Monday 2 September 2024

Gazzaniga's Alcina's Island - a fizzing romp from Bampton Classical Opera at The Barn, Old Walland

Thomas Blunt (Conductor)
Jeremy Gray (Director)
Christian Hey (Assistant Director)
Karen Halliday (Movement Director)

Inna Husieva (Alcina)
Sarah Chae (Lesbia)
Dafydd Allen (La Rose)
Monwabisi Lindi (Brunoro)
Jonathan Eyers (Don Lopes)
Owain Rowlands (Baron Brikbrak)

The Orchestra of Bampton Classical Opera

6.30pm, Saturday 31 August, 2024

Giuseppe Gazzaniga (1743-1818): L'Isola d'Alcina (Alcina's Island)
(libretto by Giovanni Bertati (1735-1815), translated by Gilly French

Sarah Chae (Lesbia), Monwabisi Lindi (Brunoro),
Owain Rowlands, (Brikbrak), Charlotte Badham (Clizia),
Jonathan Eyers (Don Lopes) & Dafydd Allen (La Rose) 
© Anthony Hall

A Frenchman, an Italian, a Spaniard and an Englishman all walk into a barn… And if that sounds like the start of a joke, well, Gazzaniga’s take on L’Isola d’Alcina, or Alcina’s Island, is a jolly romp, packed full of witty jibes at national stereotypes, all done with affectionate wit, and director, Jeremy Gray’s production really brings out the playful comedy throughout. So librettist Giovanni Bertati’s take here on the original story in Ariosto’s Orlando Furiosa (which in turn, drew on Circe in Homer’s Odyssey) is that the four men declare an oath to resist the enchantment of Alcina, but it takes the efforts of Alcina’s servants, and the late arrival of a German, Baron Brikbak to secure their escape (or do they?...). With three performances behind them in Oxfordshire & Gloucestershire, Bampton Classical Opera visited the charming setting of The Barn at Old Walland in East Sussex for another outing, before their final performance at Smith Square Hall (Friday 13 September). 

 

Magnus Walker (James), Monwabisi Lindi (Brunoro),
Jonathan Eyers (Don Lopes) & Inna Husieva (Alcina)
© Anthony Hall


In the considerably smaller space provided by the stage at The Barn, the cast nevertheless delivered a joyful performance, the restrictions of space somehow even adding to the comedic effect. For example, Brikbrak and Lesbia creeping back and forth across the stage in their attempt to escape from Alcina, only a couple of feet away from them made the nonsense of it all even funnier. However, I was nervous, thankfully unnecessarily, that someone – particularly the very tall Don Lopes – would crack their head ducking on and off the stage. Apparently, some scenery items had to be jettisoned (a lion was banished to sit on the lawn outside the stage door), but the staging and simple lighting effects were effective nonetheless. Costumes were bright and eclectic, with ample use of beachwear and props, and identifying features for the men – a fedora and red cape for the Spaniard, striped top for the Frenchman, you get the idea. Alcina had a couple of costume changes, ending with a glorious cape revealing lights and dragons for her parting curse on the escapees. 

 

Owain Rowlands (Brikbrak)
& Sarah Chae (Lesbia)
© Anthony Hall

The music is lively and bright throughout, and Blunt and his small band of players took things at a spirited pace. Ensemble was on the whole pretty tight, apart from a couple of pickups, and there was some fine playing from the horns in particular, with incisive harpsichord accompaniments to the brief recitatives from Alex Norton. Whilst there aren’t really any showstopping arias, the music pushes along the action well, and the balance between the band and singers was carefully judged throughout. And there are some fine ensemble pieces, with a glorious opening chorus from the four men, and a joyous septet at the end of Act I. Gilly French's translation also added fizz to proceedings, with some great rhyming puns and even a reversal of 'Your tiny hand is frozen' for Alcina when she realises Brikbrak's power in a handshake. 'The Frenchman has gone doolally' led to a clever string of rhymes, but unfortunately I couldn't quite catch them all at the rapid pace. And the Eurovision Song Conests even gets a look in, when the singers compete to find the best 'Arietta' to make La Rose feel 'better' after drinking too much of Alcina's potion.

 


Bampton Classical Opera at The Barn
© Nick Boston

Inna Husieva’s Alcina began on the lighter side, but gained in power as her role developed, achieving suitable scariness by the end. The strongest vocal performances of the evening came from Dafydd Allen as La Rose, with mellow tone and great comedic gusto throughout, and Charlotte Badham as Clizia, delivering the most assured vocal line with equally strong comedic instincts. But when it came to comedy, Owain Rolands as Brikbrak took this to even greater heights with a fine line in gestures and silent actions alongside his rich baritone lines. Monwabisi Lindi’s Brunoro had a suitably Italianate tenorial twang, with some deft coloratura, and Jonathan Eyers was commanding as Don Lopes, with some fancy cape work as well. Sarah Chae’s Lesbia was bright and playful, and Magnus Walker’s James was light and engaging, with suitably English reserve. As a company, they blended well together in the ensemble pieces. Although squeezing all eight on stage at once was clearly a challenge, they made it work and clearly were all having a ball.

 

All in all, this was another great success for Bampton Classical Opera on their third visit to The Barn, and we look forward to their return next year.



The Barn at Old Walland
© Nick Boston


Inna Husieva (Alcina)
 © Jeremy Gray


Alcina's Island at The Barn
© Jeremy Gra