It’s a crowded field these days for new choral music, which is good news for the genre, but it does make it harder for composers and their compositions to stand out from the rest. Thankfully, this new recording by The Choir of Royal Holloway, directed by Rupert Gough of Oliver Tarney’s (b.1984) Lux Stellarum is a welcome addition, with its combination of familiar and less familiar texts, and use of varied choral textures. This is assisted by the strong showing from the choir here, with Andrew Dewar on organ. Tarney was new to me, but he clearly already has a body of music behind him, with several recordings of his works also already in the catalogue. Lux Stellarum is a short requiem for choir and organ, which he wrote for the choir of the American Cathedral in Paris, and biblical passages are mixed with texts by John Donne and the Canadian writer Marjorie Pickthall. With its focus on light, the stars and the universe, it sits in the more positive, hopeful camp of requiem interpretations – no hell and damnation here, but more reassurance in perpetual light and eternal rest. And so to the music. Tarney writes smooth lines and mixes use of plainchant melodies with fuller choral settings, and soaring intertwined soprano voices open the first section, followed soon by the organ heralding the full choir. The setting of the Requiem text is confident, with plainsong elements reminiscent of Duruflé, followed by more rhythmic writing for the Amos text. The Kyrie is gentler, and the choir’s diction here is exemplary, as well as the purity of the high sopranos. The third section sets a Pickthall poem focussing on the vastness of the stars above. The setting is clear, and once again the choir’s diction allows the text and Tarney’s word painting to come across effectively. There’s a beautifully controlled high chord on ‘soft infinite’, and the harmonic shift for ‘unafraid’ stands out within the otherwise relatively straightforward harmonic language. There’s a bit more movement in the Sanctus, and the Hosanna is warmly joyful, ‘excelsis’ ringing out. The Agnus Dei is the most effective of the movements for me, with the combination of chant of the psalm text interspersed with the Agnus Dei text, with more and more layered, falling lines. The lower voices also get more of a showing here, with a particularly strong tenor chant section, but attention returns to thinned out upper voices for the conclusion. The final section, with the In paradisum text combined with John Donne, contains some of the most crunchy harmonic writing, delivered with impressive blend from the choir here. There’s a hefty, powerful organ solo, and rich tonal chords spread out into more complex textures. Sometimes full albums of choral music, especially from one composer, can mean that works get lost within a homogenous soundworld, however well written. With just the one work here, at just under half an hour, this is a short release, but this allows this effective piece to stand out on its own, leaving us wanting to hear more from the composer rather than less. Gough and The Choir of Royal Holloway also deserve credit for their clarity and rich blend, as do the team from Convivium for their generously warm recording.
Showing posts with label The Choir of Royal Holloway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Choir of Royal Holloway. Show all posts
Thursday, 30 October 2025
Monday, 3 July 2023
CD Review - Matthew Coleridge: Requiem - The Choir of Royal Holloway
Matthew Coleridge wrote his Requiem in 2014/15, and it has now received its second recording, this time with Rupert Gough directing The Choir of Royal Holloway, with Southern Sinfonia. Soloists are cellist Maxim Calver, Soprano Karin Dahlberg and bass baritone Andrew Thompson, with Simon Earl on organ. This is definitely a Requiem of comfort and peaceful resolution, rather than torment or anguish – there is no Dies Irae, for a start. The musical language is melodic and lyrical, with warm writing for the choral forces throughout. Yet what stops this becoming cloying is Coleridge’s writing for the solo cello, and also for the soprano soloist. It is the cello that provides the voice of lament, and then ultimately comfort, and the different registers of the instrument are exploited well, with the cello’s ‘Byzantine’ scales contrasted with the choral plainsong and low drone in the Offertory, and the plaintive, high registers entwined with the soprano solo in the Lacrimosa (with hints of Górecki’s Third Symphony here). Calver on cello is confident and assured throughout the instrument’s range, and his tone is richly warm. This is well matched by Dahlberg’s rounded tone, and Coleridge makes full use of range here too, with the soprano line started richly low in the Pie Jesu before rising to a tender duet with the cello. The choir are impressive throughout here, with clarity of tone in all voice parts, but with a particularly radiant tenor section and soaring high sopranos, exploited to the full in the Introit, with the sopranos ringing out at the top of the texture at ‘Exaudi’. Thompson delivers a suitably pleading solo at ‘Hostias’ in the Offertory. Organ is used sparingly and Earl ensures that even at the climaxes it never overpowers the texture. The strings are equally supportive, providing throbbing underpinning, as well as moments of mood change, lifting proceedings with delicate fluttering towards the end of the Lacrimosa, for example. Moments of drama are few, and the use of the steady, funereal drum in the Kyrie is effective, but never builds to anything too severe. The Rex Tremendae has the most dramatic music, with a slow build of tension up to the desperate cries of ‘Salve me’, but these are soon forgotten when the consoling Agnus Dei arrives. The Requiem is joined on this latest disc by assorted choral works by Coleridge, and one instrumental piece. The latter, And There Was Light, was written for strings and solo cello with the current recording in mind, and it consists of an open, warm solo cello part with gentle string underpinning. As with the Requiem, there is little rhythmic drive here, but the solo line is lyrical and warmly performed here by Calver. Of the choral pieces here, it is the Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis that stand out, as there is greater sense of rhythmic movement than in any of the other works on offer here. The organ (here played by George Nicholls) gives an energetic opening to the Magnificat, and its rocking, oscillating rhythms give a sense of propulsion perhaps lacking in some of the other pieces. The Glorias are rich and fulsome, with the Royal Holloway sopranos souring beautifully at the top of the Amen. My Beloved Spake hints at passion in the repetitions of ‘come’, the choral textures are indeed sensuous, and Olivia Earl’s alto solo is equally sumptuous, followed by Thompson’s contrasting but tender solo, but I’m not sure true ecstasy is reached here. The Stabat Mater is soulful, with low voices moving slowly at the start, and again sparing use of organ, once again leading to a conclusion of solace and comfort. The choir deliver some particularly top notch singing with clear and bright tone in Coleridge’s Abendlied setting. Soprano and cello (Dahlberg & Calver) return for And I Saw a New Heaven, with now familiar open and lyrical lines for both, over soft organ pedals, slowly meandering towards a soft conclusion with delicate choral backing to finish. The disc is full of strong performances from the choir, soloists and instrumentalists, and it serves as an excellent showcase for Coleridge's strong choral writing.
Coleridge, M. 2022. Requiem. Maxim Calver, Karin Dahlberg, Simon Earl, Southern Sinfonia, The Choir of Royal Holloway, Rupert Gough. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR081.
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