Soloists, Glyndebourne Chorus & Sinfonia © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd, Photo: Richard Hubert Smith |
Thursday, 31 October 2024
Powerfully moving A Child of Our Time at Glyndebourne
Wednesday, 23 October 2024
A great showcase for the Jervaulx Singers and Charlie Gower-Smith, combining strong solo voices in choral textures
The Jervaulx Singers (named after the ruined Jervaulx Abbey in North Yorkshire) were founded by Director Charlie Gower-Smith and soprano Jenny Bianco in 2021. They describe themselves as a professional soloists choir, and on their first recording, they comprise just eight voices. On this disc, they tackle predominantly contemporary choral works, although some solo song, and a finale from Bernstein’s Candide are also included, as well as a solo piano piece performed by pianist Alison Frances Gill. The sound is fulsome, as one would expect from professionally trained voices, and although their intention is to give singers space for ‘each individual’s own sound’, they still create a suitably blended overall ensemble when needed. As a result, the sound is refreshingly bright, particularly in the sweeter repertoire.
They open with a traditional Norwegian song, Ingen Vinner Frem Til Den Evige Ro, arranged by Norwegian composer Ola Gjeilo (b.1978), now living in the US. That bright, clear ensemble is immediately evident, and the rich basses emerge through the flowing folk lines. The balance of the tenors leading in the third verse over the more choral textures below is also well judged. Lithuanian Onutė Narbutautė (b.1956) is a composer new to me, and her Vasara (Summer) definitely intrigues me to hear more. It opens with a cuckoo call, and makes use of vocalisations of bird calls throughout, rather reminiscent of Janequin’s Le Chant des Oiseaux from some 500 years previous. Aside from the bird sounds, playful flowing rhythms evoke the two young lovers running barefoot through nature. Pianist Alison Frances Gill joins the choir for Lili Boulanger’s (1893-1918) Hymne au Soleil next. Setting an atmospheric text describing Brahmins worshipping the rising sun, Boulanger contrasts bright, homophonic choral treatment of the text initially with more polyphonic entries to evoke seven rushing steeds. There’s plenty of word painting, with high chords for ‘il se lève, il s’élance’(it rises, it soars), and there are also delicate choral echoes alongside a rich solo from mezzo soprano Sarah Anne Champion, before the declamatory style of the opening returns, the combined singers here delivering a powerful climax.
To calm things down, Alison Frances Gill treats us next to one of Rachmaninov’s (1873-1943) 12 Romances, op. 21, namely No. 5, Lilacs. The rippling, flowing textures are given a watery lightness of touch, and Gill effortlessly delivers the final cascade with a flourish.
Morten Lauridsen’s (b.1943) Les chansons des roses, which gives this album its title, is a popular favourite of choirs, with its contrasting tempos and styles across five short movements. Here, they take the opening En une seule fleur at a rapid tempo, making it dance along, staying just the right side of not garbling the French text, although their proficient precision is in danger of making it feel a little throwaway here. For Contre qui, rose, Lauridsen is in the familiar territory of his most famous piece, O magnum mysterium, and it receives a suitably tender reading here, with pure sopranos and rich basses. De ton rêve trop plein contains the most variety, with sparky, snatched faster sections against slower, sweeter passages, and the singers capture the folksy feeling well here, with excitement in the contrasts of tempo and dynamics. For La rose complète, we’re back to O magnum mysterium (Lauridsen does definitely have some trademark chord progressions!), and Gower-Smith shapes the slow build here with considerable tenderness, with a lightness and transparency here to the overall sound from the singers. The piano joins for the final song, Dirait-on, a pretty song that borders on the cheesy, but is saved by clever canons and increasing complexity of texture. The sopranos in particular produce a rich sound here, and there is a successful build overall, before a well-controlled quiet ending.
To break up the choral textures, next comes a performance of the final song, Fleurs, from Poulenc’s song cycle Fiançailles pour rire. Mezzo soprano Beth Moxon gives a tender rendition here, with Gill providing gentle pulsing piano chords in the background, and the return of the first verse is particularly delicate and touching.
Jonathan Dove’s (b.1959) The Passing of the Year was composed in memory of his mother, and sets texts by Blake, Dickinson and Tennyson, amongst others. It launches in with minimalist rapid motion in Invocation, with slow lines on top, and the piano driving the rhythm, and it all builds to a glorious final chord. The singers are in their element here, really being able to expand their sound and create extremes of contrast, and in The narrow bud, their lines fall over one another with great energy over the bell-like piano, before the sopranos positively soar for ‘the spirits of the air’. Answer July has a train-like insistence in its playful rhythmic insistence, leading to its triumphant ending. The singers capture the breathy, muggy oppressiveness of Hot sun, cool fire, with its thick, complex textures, and the lyrical tenors lead in Ah, Sun-flower!, with the upper then lower voices cascading around them. Adieu! Farewell earth’s bliss! is tender and haunting, with the singers again drawing out the contrast between the plaintive ‘I am sick, I must die’ and the anger of the middle verse. Then the cycle concludes with Ring out, wild bells, the ‘O Earth’ chant returning from the opening movement, crashing into the circling piano. Entries ring out, and once again, Dove is the master of choral contrasts, with ominous unison for ‘let him die’, against defiant ‘grief’. The singers build to a glorious sound, letting their powerful combined voices bring this exciting work to a glowing conclusion.
And then for something different to finish – the finale, Make Our Garden Grow, from Bernstein’s (1918-1990) Candide. Here, tenor Gareth Meirion Edmunds opens with a strong, open-hearted Candide, to which soprano Eleanor Garside responds with bright tenderness as Cunegonde. The company expands to seven solo voices, before building to the full-throttled finale. Inevitably, the piano can’t quite compete here, but the operatic scale of the singing is very powerful.
Tuesday, 15 October 2024
Joyful Glazunov and deeply moving Górecki from the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra and Alpesh Chauhan
Sibelius’ Finlandia was given a rich, expansive reading here, with incisive energy from visiting conductor Alpesh Chauhan. The string sound was full, and Chauhan shaped the music’s sweeping waves with command. Whilst the opening brass onset was a little unsure, the brass then gave us appropriate weight and a broad but bright sound, and the woodwind chorale moments were well-balanced. Chauhan built to a suitably triumphant finish, making for a strong opening statement.
Jess Gillam then gave us a joyous rendition of Glazunov’s short but sweet Concerto for Alto Saxophone, Op. 109, written in 1934 for Sigurd Raschèr. With just strings accompanying the soloist, they opened in secure unison, before Gillam entered with lyrical, smooth lines. Chauhan mostly controlled the dynamic balance well, allowing Gillam leeway for some highly sensitive pianissimos too. Then Gillam picked up the pace with playful rapid runs leading into the faster section. Yet even in the fast, virtuosic sections, Gillam always maintained a pure tone, particularly gentle at the top. Layered string textures built to the cadenza, with again some very sensitive, quiet playing from Gillam. Then she set the fugue off at a healthy pace, followed by tight playing from the strings as each section joined in. Rapid articulation from Gillam built to highly virtuosic finish.
For an encore, Gillam returned with the soprano saxophone to play an arrangement with orchestra of Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen’s Shine You No More. Sørensen is a member of the Danish String Quartet, and this piece has become a popular encore piece for a variety of soloists – I last heard it from violinist Thomas Gould at the 2023 Proms. It is great fun with an opening reel for the soloist, throbbing rhythmic strings, and following a quieter, mournful central section, it dances away to a showstopping finish. Gillam dazzled with fluid virtuosity, and the strings, with a sprightly solo from leader Nicky Sweeney, gave spirited support.
Górecki’s Symphony No. 3, Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, Op. 36, was composed 1976, but really hit the big time in 1992 when the London Sinfonietta’s recording with Dawn Upshaw was championed on newly established Classic FM. After that, it has received steady airplay, and has been used in film and TV, with English National Opera giving a powerful staged production last year, but concert performances are surprisingly relatively rare. Its lengthy first movement is longer than the other two movements combined, with its extensive eight part canon for strings leading to a central 15th century song, a lament of the Virgin Mary, before the canon then unwinds itself in reverse order. Three of the BPO double basses set the canon in motion, a little muddily to begin with, but confidence built, and Chauhan maintained a steady intensity as each string part was added, bringing out the moments of movement within the slow, steady lines. Then soprano Ruby Hughes stood, her voice slowly rising out of the textures, initially quiet, but increasingly pleading in tone. A real mother’s lament, she and the orchestra built to a climax before the full strings then took over their canon in reverse motion, working their way back to the double basses. Chauhan held a lengthy silence in the air, before commencing the glassy, almost sunlit opening of the second movement. Hughes entered quietly, low in her register, with the rising and falling scales achingly painful – this movement’s text is taken from an inscription on a Nazi prison cell in Zakopane, Poland, including a short prayer signed by an 18 year old girl, Helena Wanda Błażusiakówna, again a lament to her mother and the Virgin Mary. Exquisitely controlled pianissimo from Hughes at the end of the prayer, followed by a darkly intoned Ave Maria brought the movement to its intense conclusion. Undulating strings at the start of the finale were then joined by Hughes with doubled flutes, singing the third text, again a lament, this time a mother over her dead son. One or two of the transitions in this movement, where Górecki suddenly stops and shifts the harmony, could have been cleaner, but Chauhan otherwise shaped the dynamic swells well, and the BPO strings showed great stamina of concentration in the long, pulsing passages. After the almost naïve joy of the Glazunov in the first half, the intense sadness of the Górecki was a striking, almost shocking contrast, and Hughes, Chauhan and the BPO gave us a highly emotional and meditative end to the afternoon’s concert. Once again, the BPO are continuing to surprise us with the increasing depth and variety of their playing and programming – next up, The Madness/Lightness of Being, with cinematic music including Herrmann, Schnittke and Piazolla (Saturday 16 November, Brighton Dome).
Jess Gillam, Alpesh Chauhan & the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra © Nick Boston |
Ruby Hughes, Alpesh Chauhan & the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra © Nick Boston |
Friday, 11 October 2024
The Madrigal Reimagined - effortless virtuosity and informative expertise from the Monteverdi String Band and friends
The Madrigal Reimagined is a fascinating programme of vocal, solo instrumental and ensemble pieces from the late sixteenth century, ending with a demonstration of how the madrigal form and style fed into early opera, in a brief selection of highlights from Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo. Ely delivers the Prologue and two key arias (Ahi caso acerbo and Ma io ch’in questa lingua) with clarity and drama, capturing the intensity of the emotion in this chamber rendition. The string Sinfonias are suitably plaintive, emphasised in the rich yet mournful lower registers, yet Vanne Orfeo, with its bright, falling soprano lines, and the cheerful, spirited dance bring the disc to a nonetheless cheerful conclusion.
But before that, we have the delights of Rore, Caccini, Cavaliere and Malvezzi, amongst others. Cipriano de Rore’s (c.1515-1565) Anchor che col partire is heard first in a lute transcription, with Toby Carr bringing out its doleful delicacy, and managing to make the melodic lines sing. Then Carr is joined by Ely, who brings an aching beauty to the vocal line, with effortless diminutions (ornamentation consisting of breaking the melodic line into groups of shorter, often rapid notes), written by Giovanni Battista Bovicelli (1545-1618). Vergine bella and Ben qui si mostra il ciel by Rore have the solo line given over to the violin, with Webber providing the diminutions (along with diminutions by Orazio Bassani (bef.1570-1619) for the former). Webber’s bird-like violin, athletic yet effortless, skitters and meanders over the delicately plucked lute. The final piece by Rore included here, Hor che’l ciel et la terra, also has diminutions by Webber, but this time Ely has the solo line, brightly delivered over rich string textures, with ornamentation in all parts.
There is a sequence of pieces from the famous 1589 Florentine Intermedii, lavish wedding celebrations for Ferdinando de’ Medici and Christine of Lorraine, with their famed extreme special effects. Cristofano Malvezzi’s (1547-1549) Sinfonia a 6, takes us into La Regione dei Demoni (the realm of demons) with its rich, complex string textures, before Giulio Caccini (c.1650-1618) takes us up into the heavens with Io che dal ciel, Ely delivering startlingly shimmering ornamentation here. This segment ends with O che nuovo miracolo by Emilio de’ Cavaliere (c.1550-1602), which dances along with instrumental fizz, the rapid ornamentation adding to the sense of celebration.
There’s more from Monteverdi, with extracts from his Il ballo dell'ingrate, the stately Entrata and swinging Ballo followed by Ah dolente partita, with Ely’s highly expressive falling soprano lines echoed in the violin, here played by Theresa Caudle. Ely’s bell-like high notes cry out, then there’s a swap into her lower vocal register, with Caudle taking over above. Ahi, troppo è duro follows, with dramatic expression and doleful falling lines.
There’s a solemn Canzon by Giovanni Gabrieli (c.1554/1557-1612) from the strings which dances along nicely, the disc opens with Canzon decimottava by Claudio Merulo (1533-1604), brightly paced with clear textures, and Carr also gives us a beautifully sad Preludium from Lorenzo Tracetti (1555-1590). Cruda Amarilli appears first in a setting by Johann Nauwach (1595-1630), Ely’s pure, expressive line gently accompanied by Carr on the theorbo. Ely’s ornamentation here is especially nimble, with humming repititions and fluid runs, and it is then followed by Monteverdi’s more familiar setting, here given over to the plaintive strings. And Giovanni Perluigi da Palestrina (1525-1594) is represented here in Vestiva i colli, with ornamentation shared between the soprano and bass violin in an unusual and delightful dialogue.
With expertly informative notes from Webber, this disc combines these musicians’ clearly expert research and knowledge of this repertoire with virtuosic command of the technical demands of such ornamented performance, making for a highly stimulating and impressive collection.
Various. 2024. The Madrigal Reimagined. Hannah Ely, Toby Carr, Monteverdi String Band, Oliver Webber. Compact Disc. Resonus Classics RES10341.