Showing posts with label Trinity College. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trinity College. Show all posts

Friday, 15 December 2017

Courtiers of Grace : Delightful euphony and intimacy from exceptional voices in their own right

A partial response to the ensemble Courtiers of Grace at Trinity College, Cambridge

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2017 (19 to 26 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


15 December

This is a partial response, at first by Tweet, to the concert-programme 'A rose there is...' as given for Cambridge Early Music by the ensemble Courtiers of Grace (with Stephen Wilkinson as reader) in the chapel of Trinity College, Cambridge, on Friday 15 December at 7.30 p.m.




Somewhat arbitrarily (if it is nonetheless conveniently pat), the Baroque period in music is sometimes considered* to begin, in 1607, with Claudio Monteverdi's L'Orfeo (or La favola d'Orfeo), SV 318, and to end with the death of Johann Sebastian Bach (in 1750). But what about this painting (now housed in The Kröller-Müller Museum, in The Netherlands)... ? :


Stilleven in een kast (Belgium, 1538)


As on the topic of the quirky precision of such still-life paintings, and especially in the case of the instruments (other than the two (principal) human voices, of whose origins and nature we could learn, by implication, from the programme-notes), it would have been nice to have some information about them. However, with a programme that ran very well, in two thankfully uninterrupted sequences (for that, one can rely on an audience at Cambridge Early Music (@CambsEarlyMusic), where would that have been done in person ?

Unless, gracefully, details and / or corrections are forthcoming from the members of Courtiers of Grace (@gracecourtiers), and since this is not intended to be a full review (for which purposes, sufficient notes were not made), here, for the moment, are the remaining observations that were recorded...


Personnel of Courtiers of Grace :

* Gawain Glenton ~ Cornetto (and recorder)

This was adept playing of an instrument that seemed beautifully made from a piece of wood that was light in colour, and which fitted so well into the ensemble, with its well-matched festive sounds of pure tone and significantly engaging affect

* Jacob Heringman ~ Lute

Confident and expressive lutenism (from a performer with a standing tradition as a guest of Cambridge Early Music) – Jake’s delicate instrument seemed to have double-strings (and yet seem nearer the lower part of the range of development of the number of courses in the history of the lute ?)

* Kirsty Whatley ~ Harp

On an instrument that seemed to be a wire-strung harp, with a case made from a darkish wood such as cherry, Kirsty sat next to Jake (on lute), and her playing often blended to suit his, whereas both had very pleasing opportunities to play solo, and with a different manner of attack and delivery to accord with that role

* Clare Wilkinson ~ Soprano

Singing in several languages and modes with assurance, Clare's familiar voice was beautifully warm and resonant in the acoustic, and inflected by the heart's motions, as she exchanged glances and smiles with her fellow musicians

* Stephen Wilkinson ~ Reader

A conversation at the venue earlier had turned to Jonathan Swift, so the satire or ironic assertion that Luther also proved to have employed in some of his writings was very timely – the tension between surface and actual meaning was nicely brought out, in readings that were both well timed after the preceding set of pieces, and (with the aid of very good amplification) compellingly and clearly pronounced




End-notes :

* For example, in the entry for baroque music in the Encyclopædia Britannica. Often enough, a matter of pigeonholing the past by reference to the bits that [we believe that] we know remain from it, even if we may, circularly, assume that we understand why they came into being or survived, because of what they are (or what we assume that they are ?)...

Apart from the fact that, at the level of the sort of composition that is pictured in Stilleven in een kast (compared with that of works in Il palazzo ducale (The Ducal Palace) in Venezia, or, in Roma, The Papal Apartments of Il Vaticano (The Vatican)), the written evidence of the artist being commissioned (or of patronage) is unlikely to exist (when we do not even know who the artist was), is it also improbable that we really know enough why such a work should have been created in 1538 at all ?




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Saturday, 26 August 2017

Real, moving and effective power in these massed voices¹

This reviews Stephen Layton conducting the National Youth Choirs of Great Britain

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2017 (19 to 26 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


25 August

This is a review of a concert given, under the guest conductorship of Stephen Layton, by the National Youth Choirs of Great Britain (NYCGB) in the chapel of Trinity College, Cambridge,
on Friday 25 August 2017 at 7.30 p.m.




First half :

1. Francis Poulenc (1899–1963) ~ ‘Exultate Deo’ (1941)

2. Olivier Messiaen (1908–1992) ~ ‘O sacrum convivium’ (1937)

3. Frank Martin (1890-1974) ~ Messe pour double chœur à cappella (1922-1926) :
Kyrie - Gloria - Credo - Sanctus / Benedictus - Agnus Dei


Judge just by the title (1) ‘Exultate Deo’, and then by the text (as heard, e.g. ‘Exultate timpanum’), that this short piece by Poulenc (from 1941) is a setting of praise (taken from the Psalms). With its bright, dawn-like opening (this material recurs), this was where one first took in the clear, full and assured sound of nearly ninety voices – soon into passages of subtle light and shade, as well as Poulenc’s uncompromising use of dissonance :

Straightaway, in this initial choice of repertoire, and in Stephen Layton’s (@StephenDLayton's) home acoustic at Trinity, Cambridge, we were able to appreciate the clear diction and unmuddied sound² of the National Youth Choirs of Great Britain (NYCGB), and the exciting effect, in this familiar space, of ‘falling away’ into silence at the close.


In (2) ‘O sacrum convivium’ (1937), a second piece – and a more difficult one (?) – sung from memory, appropriately reflective tone and affect were brought out in a very mature and measured response to this text, a setting that wonders at the sacrament of communion (the Eucharist).

Although Messiaen’s spiritual and theological message is abiding in his canon, it appears that this work is unusual in being liturgical. Particularly striking were the gradations of dynamics across the ensemble, and the employment of softness and hush, which may be known from works as diversely religious as Quatuor pour la fin de temps [Quartet for the End of Time (1941)] or, for solo organ, La Nativité du Seigneur (1935), his beautiful meditation(s) on the birth of Christ.



The Kyrie of this well-known (but simple and unfussy ?) (3) mass-setting by Martin (1922-1926) begins with a multi-entry section [the first entreaty of Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy)], which, through the rendering of its flowing melismatic lines, established warmth and the celebratory sense of participating together in the mass. The central Christe eleison rose at least to fortissimo [ff], but still with a good balance.


Characteristically rounded and pure vowel-sounds flooded the sound-world of the Gloria and, as Frank Martin again gives us a multi-entry setting of the text, we clearly heard, in a trio of statements prefaced by Domine Deus, Agnus Dei… [‘Lord God, Lamb of God’], the sincere and solemn heart of this section of the Messe :

Martin has some of the singers imitate a drone, thereby giving the quality of a suspensive underpinning to each affirmation (and, not for the only time this evening, the powerful sense of sounds that, because one could not immediately locate them, evoked aetherial disembodiment). At Quoniam tu solus sanctus (‘For you alone are the most high’), we bridged into a form of chanting, and with the vivid impression of composer, conductor and choir together heightening our perception of what is very active within the words of the standard text of the Latin mass.


Except when one such as that of Stravinsky (1944-1948) whisks through it, the Credo – which almost certainly contains more words than in the other four sections combined – inevitably forms a significant portion of a setting : this one makes generous and vibrant use of a double choir, and, again, of wordlessly hummed notes and of crescendi to the full sound of the ensemble.


Amongst various others, some features in particular were highly moving : the tenderness, in the singing and the writing, of the passage that sets Et incarnatus est ('And [He] became man') ; then, the dramatic present of Crucifixus etiam ('For us [He] was likewise crucified'), but with neither Layton nor Martin rushing anything in the specificity that is in the text that starts with sub Pontio Pilato… (‘in the reign of Pontius Pilate’) ; and in the simple joy of Et resurrexit ('And [he] was resurrected'), which re-deploys the theme of running notes from the Kyrie.



There is a real, moving and effective power in these massed voices, they and we alike enjoying Martin’s flowing melodic lines, but held back in Et unam, sanctam, catholicam… ('And a single, holy, catholic [church]') – before a declaration of faith in Et exspecto…, ('I await [resurrection and eternal life]') and the closing ‘blaze’ of Amen.


Maybe these are not the right words for it, but there was ‘luxuriant’ writing and singing in the repeated word ‘Sanctus’, which then gently ‘retired’, so giving a strong contrast with the dynamics of Pleni sunt coeli (‘The heavens are full…’). Afterwards, we were into the peals / waves of the first Hosanna - before the Benedictus commenced with almost sub voce 'utterances', developing and ‘rolling’ into repeating the acclamation Hosanna !


With its tri-partite form, the Agnus Dei had an otherworldly, ‘uncanny’ feel to it at the start [for the words are addressed directly to Christ], with voices supporting, and yet moving against, each other – and then an evocation as of a calm beat of a clock (or heart ?), in which one senses Martin’s conviction most, and also, just as significantly, these performers’ dedication to conveying the text.

After all that has gone before, both in this section and in Martin’s mass for double choir as a whole, the concluding chords - which set the supplication Dona nobis pacem (‘[Lamb of God,] give us Peace’) - are open. As Peace is open to us... ?


Certainly, the audience seemed very open to giving applause from its hearts for this accomplished and engaged performance under Stephen Layton, a celebrated interpreter of such sacred works – one had also had the privilege of seeing close to his encouragement of and approbation for the members of NYCGB, and of feeling pride as they took an orderly step down to walk along the aisle, and out, at the end of this impressive first half.




Second half :

4. Vytautas Miškinis (1954-) ~ 'Angelis suis Deus' (2006)

5. Eriks Ešenvalds (1977-) ~ 'Salutation' [world premiere]

6. Ugis Praulinš (1957-) ~ Missa Rigensis (2003)

7. Paweł Łukaszewski (1968-) ~ ‘Nunc Dimittis’ (2007)


Again from memory, two short pieces (maybe shorter again than the Poulenc and the Messiaen ?) began the second half, by which time one finds that, both as one settles into a programme, and into taking further pleasure from it (even as it advances into territory that is less familiar, but no less engaging), one tends - for good or ill - to have to keep prompting oneself to record impressions in one's review-notes, and so makes fewer… [Apologies for anything not noted at the time, and so unlikely to be here now.]

In any case, from a trio of twentieth-century composers in the French tradition (none still alive, though their music continues) to ones all still living and from Eastern Europe (Latvia [Ešenvalds], Lithuania (x2), and Poland [Łukaszewski]) – and, this time, not with works now seventy-five or more years old (yet sounding so fresh), but everything from the twenty-first century.

We even had a new commission from Eriks Ešenvalds, as well as a second of the composers (Ugis Praulinš) with us, in the chapel itself. Before it, though it had in common that it evoked the sound-world and affect of John Rutter (also said afterwards to have been present), (4) Vytautas Miškinis’ ‘Angelis suis Deus’ (2006) had a swaying motion to it, which was rooted in the bass and treble lines. [As for the text, that will need to be researched (for an end-note), but had apparently been set to celebrate Stephen Layton’s birthday, when he was forty…]

(5) ‘Salutation’, with a text in English, felt like a pæan, and we had been told that Ešenvalds, in common with large numbers around the world (via live-streaming), was intending to watch the world premiere of this work : the words Senses reach out, and touch thy word at my feet were noted, but this, too, needs research. The overall impression of the ensemble was of brightness, but, within it, Ešenvalds had placed little harmonic hesitations, or what seemed like remembrances of Morten Lauridsen, and then brought the piece to a close with a beautiful bass-note : repeated listening will be necessary, but the audience responded very well to his setting, as it had to that of Miškinis.



As with the Mass setting by Frank Martin, that by (6) Ugis Praulinš, Missa Rigensis (2003), had a strong opening, and the effect of echoic falling-away. To judge by the singing and how the choir looked, it must be thrilling to perform this composition, and this was an excellent space in which the sounds could die away.


In the Kyrie, one could pick out some lovely soprano voices, nicely blended. A bass took a solo in Christe eleison³, and Praulinš also gave us little lingering individual sounds, and an a capella voice to close.

The rhythms and style of the Gloria were exciting, but it was also a moving setting, and employed chant-style sections. One almost had the feeling here, as when soloists step down from the choir, of individual testimonies being given³, and with a vivid sense of expectation in the Domine Deus.


The clever impression (as of rain-drops) that is formed by the overlay of voices in the Credo also feels in line with worship, and the harmonic riches that Praulinš bestows (as Martin did) on this part of Missa Rigensis put one in mind of Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms (other composers' works aplenty were discernibly quoted). Particular focii for attention were, again, the words Qui propter nos homines ('Who, for mankind and for our salvation, came down from Heaven'), and a remarkable setting of the Crucifixus, after which Stephen Layton brought us an impassioned believer's personal confession of faith³.

The Sanctus was full of life, especially the 'Hosannas', and was simply set until the repeat of Dona nobis pacem ('[Lamb of God], may you give us Peace'), when the Agnus Dei then had unexpected twists and turns. An accomplished bass recitation³, to a wordless hum, led to a simple close.


Ugis Praulinš, who was in the front row, keenly applauded the NYCGB and Stephen Layton, and was clearly affected by the performance. (It was also a pleasure to have him kindly receive some brief words of thanks afterwards.)




The programme closed with - as fitting both the purpose of the work and the reason for programming it - a ruminative setting by (7) Paweł Łukaszewski of the 'Nunc Dimittis' (2007), and with the uncomplicated beauty in which it ends : again, there was an element of voices 'coming off' and so our hearing a remaining voice exposed.


This was an extremely enjoyable concert, and one that gives great comfort at the depth and breadth of new choral singing, and also very real delight in individual performers within a tight and disciplined ensemble.

No doubt some very proud parents and other relatives would have shed a tear of pride as the NYCGB processed out !


End-notes

¹ A review-comment, as noted on the National Youth Choirs of Great Britain (@nycgb) in Frank Martin's Messe pour double chœur à cappella (1922-1926).

² The confidence of these young performers – and the worthwhile promise that they show for the future – was, too, inspiring in their appearance, in how they held and comported themselves : assuredly, one power that there is in justified self-belief.

³ As if, perhaps, the representative characters of The Apostles had been given, to show that we, through them, were in the midst of this act in remembrance of The Last Supper. (Some - if so, they could not have been many - might have found this work theatrical, but it served the liturgy and felt apt in doing so.)




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Monday, 19 September 2011

Monday at the festival

More views of - or at - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


20 September

Four sessions (five films) to-day – should have been five, but I couldn’t count, and somehow hadn’t spotted, when booking, that one of them would be going in whilst another was still being shown, but which gives me £3.85 credit on my Blue Pass for another day.

Plus a hurry from the extravagance of seeing Douglas Fairbanks (from 1922) in and as Robin Hood in the Great Hall at Trinity (thanks to the indulgence of the college's Master and Fellows), to get back to Festival central for Tirza, of both of which more later. (Suffice to say that those who thought that they were dining in the hall, which was set up like a cinema when I arrived, must have been fed elsewhere.)

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