Category Archives: In rehearsal

Kick-starting the choral year

And finally, after all the preparations, amassing the repertoire and two days’ worth of auditions, both the University Chamber Choir and Cecilian Choir each had their first rehearsal this week.

On song: Chamber Choir meets for the first time

On song: Chamber Choir meets for the first time

There’s no gentle easing in for the Chamber Choir; the first commitment, ‘Music for Advent’ looms in about eight weeks’ time, and the Crypt concert in March, and we have to go from zero to full performance assuredness in no time. Ergo, the first few rehearsals represent a whirlwind tour of the full range of repertoire, in order that the singers can get a feel for the geography of the programmes and see what kind of pieces they will be expected to perform. (The other reason for whirling rapidly through pieces is that, if there’s a piece someone doesn’t like, at least they know we won’t be dwelling on it for hours at a time in these early rehearsals).

I’m pleased to say that everyone seems to be taken with Whitacre’s colourful Lux Aurumque with which we ended the rehearsal – the student conductor, Matt, opened with Byrd’s serene masterpiece, Ave Verum Corpus, and I followed with two movements from  Brahms’ Sieben Lieder op.62. After the break, Matt led the first steps into Rutter’s Dashing Away With The Smoothing Iron, which is deceptively simple and offers some real challenges as it builds.

And yesterday, the Cecilian Choir reconvened, this time in mixed-voice formation; sister-choir to the Chamber Choir, it looks as though it might number close to thirty singers, which is particularly exciting! A whistle-stop tour of some of the repertoire for this particular Choir took in the ‘Kyrie’ from Hassler’s Missa super Dixit Maria, the middle section of Maskat’s evocative Prayer to the Night, the first few pages of Rheinberger’s purple-hued Abendlied, and the second section of Sir John Tavener’s Hymn for the Dormition of the Mother of God, which had the sopranos and altos gliding in medieval-esque parallel fourths whilst the basses were slightly confounded by their line which, on paper, reads simply but actually works against the upper voices to provide those typically Tavener dissonances.After all the preparation and learning over the summer months, it’s a relief finally to be getting to grips with the music, meeting the singers, and getting the Choirs off the ground. Ice-breakers and warm-up exercises served to get people introduced to each other and to singing together in a rudimentary fashion – these first few rehearsals, I always find, are somewhat hesitant as people grow accustomed to singing with strangers and finding their feet with new repertoire in a brand-new choir.

But it promises to be a very exciting year for both choirs – and on Monday, the upper-voice incarnation will meet for the first time to explore some medieval pieces. Watch this space…

Summer ups and downs

I’d forgotten what a heady mixture the summer term is at Kent, of excitement and angst: because it’s exam term, one never quite knows how many people will be at rehearsals over the weeks of term, given that (quite rightly!) many students are revising for exams, or taking exams, or attending revision sessions to prepare for exams. Quite often, one never has everyone in the ensemble until the final rehearsal. And sometimes not necessarily then, either…

For all that planning for rehearsals is fraught, the great aspect of this term, in choral terms, is that the Chamber and Cecilian Choirs are each revisiting repertoire from the year, in preparation for the concert at St Paul’s Without, in Canterbury, on Friday 7 June. Because singers duck in and out of rehearsals, in order to take the pressure off and not add to everyone’s already frantic stress-levels, the summer choral concert comprises pieces the Choirs have each already learned, by and large.

Click to view

Click to view

Having said that, though, the Cecilian Choir is learning a short piece by Judith Weir, from The Little Tree for upper-voice choir and marimba, whilst the Chamber Choir is learning three new pieces. (Well, as anyone who knows me well will realise, I never like to do things exactly the same way twice…). So, there is some new repertoire with which to grapple, but we are covering pieces we’ve already learned and performed.

And the effect is tremendous. Both choirs have developed a real confidence in the repertoire, and in performing as an ensemble, such that there is a real commitment to the sound and a solidity about the pieces that is new. The confidence comes, in part, from having already performed the pieces in public, and through being familiar with the tonal landscapes the pieces occupy – this is most readily apparent in the Cecilian Choir’s recent return to Britten’s Ceremony of Carols which will form part of the concert in June. There’s a sense that the Choir is enjoying itself anew, and with the confidence comes a richer, more positive sound. It’s very exciting to discover. (And – dare I say it – there’s a sense that the Choir is starting to enjoy the Britten… 😮 !)

The Chamber Choir, meanwhile, is letting its hair down with three pieces ranging from jazz to arrangement of two pop pieces straight out of the current charts (I can’t say which two, as we’re sworn to secrecy – all shall be revealed in the Summer Sunday concert on June 9). Again, as we revisit pieces from the Crypt concert back in February, there’s a developed sense of confidence and a new freedom in the sound.

The sad thing, though, is that all this comes scant weeks before the end of the academic year, when many of the singers will graduate, and the Choirs (as we have know them this year) will cease to exist. For such positive steps in each Choir’s evolution to come only a few weeks before they will finish is sad, really. But very exciting to finish with such a flourish, too.

Celebrating Britten: the Cecilian Choir

The University Cecilian Choir has been rehearsing industriously for its concert as part of this year’s Britten centenary celebrations, including working on the Ceremony of Carols together with second-year harpist, Emma Murton.

In rehearsal: the Cecilian Choir

In rehearsal: the Cecilian Choir

The concert looms this Wednesday, with the additional prospect of hearing other music by Brittten – a short fanfare for three trumpets, and two folksong settings, the lachrymaic O Waly Waly and the regret-tinged Down By The Salley Gardens, which will be sung by two sopranos, Paris Noble and Kathryn Cox.

Also in the programme are two choral pieces from the preceding era, Mendelssohn’s Abendlied and Debussy’s star-light Nuit d’Etoiles, from the Cecilian Choir with pianist Sharon Yam, plus the reading of two poems.

Britten_KarshA veritable cultural feast; come and see it this Wednesday, 1.10pm in the Colyer-Fergusson hall – admission free!

Starting again

After the high of the Crypt Concert nearly two weeks ago, this week’s rehearsal (the first since the concert) was a real back-to-Earth session.

Picking up again after the concert is the hardest part of the year; it’s time to learn new repertoire, back to learning the notes, and sitting back in sections rather than in mixed formation.

As one of the basses remarked, ‘It’s like we’ve gone right back to the beginning;’ and it’s true. Harder even than those very first rehearsals at the start of the year, when the Choir is finding its feet both musically and socially, when people are meeting each other for perhaps the first time, some of whom are only recent arrivals at the University. Having to go back to the start after such dizzy heights as the Crypt performance is always a challenge.

Nice work...

Nice work…

But this is when we can really start to push ourselves. The new pieces we’re learning for the remainder of the year are possibly harder still than anything we sang in the Crypt, because they are mostly close-harmony jazz arrangements, including some Gershwin. Plus there’s the customary arrangement of a piece plucked from the Chart-Dwelling Popular Music Tunes by yours truly to learn – sometimes even with added choreography (the latter, thankfully, NOT by me…)

So, whilst there was a sense of picking ourselves up once more, the new pieces are both challenging and fun, the two elements key to motivating the Choir to continue its progress now the February milestone has gone.  Close-harmony a capella singing is harder than it sounds, with angular lines written in order to articulate those purple-hued, augmented-fourth-rich jazz dissonances. But there was a sense of relish as we began to work on them, and the concert in the summer could possibly be our best yet…

The day’s last sigh: final rehearsal before the concert

Next time the Chamber Choir meets to rehearse for Friday night’s concert in the Cathedral Crypt, we’ll be in – the Cathedral Crypt.

Last night was our final rehearsal before Friday, and I have to say, it went like a dream. We sang through the entire programme, and Carina also performed the two pieces for solo marimba which she will be playing as part of the concert, to get a grasp of the geography and scale of the programme, to get a feel for the flow of the pieces and how they stand in relation to one another.

The Choir was in top form; intonation spot-on, pitch reliable and constant; there’s a wonderful unity to the ensemble now (as I said, the Choir is working like an accordion, breathing and relaxing together throughout the pieces) that means we are really feeling the works as a combined group. There’s lots of scope for us to be flexible according to the atmosphere on the night in the Crypt, to be able to respond to the richly-resonant acoustics, to dwell on particular chords, to push through individual phrases, and to linger as the final notes recede.

Ch_Choir_last_rehearsal

In final rehearsal

The new mixed-formation ensemble line-up has really taken hold, with the overall sound much richer (and blending better) as a result – a bold decision taken two weeks ago has really paid dividends, and yielded a much more sonorous and mature sound. As a few of the members observed, we’ve started to enjoy ourselves to the point where the ppp passages aren’t perhaps quite so ppp as they were before – a sign of how much we’ve relaxed into singing, but something to make sure we’re mindful of when we perform on the night.

We’re ready to go: see you on Friday…

Challenging the boundaries between sound and silence

Last night’s rehearsal involved singing quietly. A lot of quiet singing. In fact, most of the session was spent exploring just how quietly we could sing some of the pieces in next week’s concert programme.

From the opening of Handel’s Hear Thou My Weeping, through to various passages of contrasting light and shade in Lauridsen’s O nata lux, and the entirety of Tavener’s setting of the Lord’s Prayer, last night was an exercise in seeing just how intimate a sound we could make.

Image: subrealism.blogspot

Image: subrealism.blogspot

The idea, particularly with the Tavener, which never moves away from pp throughout the whole piece, is to draw the audience to us, to make an intimate performance space into which the listener has to lean, in order to be involved. There are moments in the Lauridsen where the dynamics change quickly, and briefly – as I said to the Choir, it’s as though you are standing in a church on a cloud-darkened day, and suddenly, for a brief moment, the sun appears from behind a cloud and comes streaming through a stained-glass window, filling the space with colour. These transient moments of contrast, where radiant colour suddenly blossoms in a passage that crescendos and then diminuendos swiftly, are what give the Lauridsen piece its life.

Sustained pp singing is the cornerstone of Tavener’s The Lord’s Prayer, too; the dynamic remains unchanged through the piece, a quiet meditation on the prayer that, in its contemplative serenity, actually does what music can often do – transcend time, for a while, and take the listener into a very different realm. We hope to blur the distinction between the music and the silence surrounding it, creating a hiatus where it will be unclear whether the piece has actually finished, drawing out the moment of listening. It will be a lovely, intimate way in which to close the first half of the concert.

So, listen hard a week on Friday, if you’re coming to the concert; you might just hear the Choir singing very quietly indeed…

Radical changes and relinquishing control

There were major changes made during the Chamber Choir’s all-day rehearsal over the weekend, brave decisions being taken, and lots of creative ideas – most of them, excitingly, from the Choir itself!

Throughout the day, I felt as though I was slowly relinquishing control of the group, as they started to operate more and more independently. Whilst this was ever so slightly alarming, not to mention unexpected, it was a good thing, a positive sign that, at last, the group is beginning to act and feel as one.

Percussion Scholar Carina Evans took time out from playing the Orchestra and  Concert Band to come along and play the percussion parts in the piece I’ve written for the concert, ‘Forgotten Children’s Songs;’ moving between marimba, triangle, bodhran and tambourine, the new textures added some real zip to the movements, especially the last one; the set has really come to life, and will be a vibrant way to bring the concert to a close.

Second-year Emma leading a warm-up

Second-year Emma leading a warm-up

There were problems with pitch during the early part of the rehearsal, with intonation not always very secure and pieces often ending up dropping a semitone by the end (which, when you’re delivering bottom D’s as a bass in Tavener’s setting of the Lord’s Prayer, can be quite a challenge!) we changed our approach to key vowels to try to keep the pitch up; we thought about breathing; we changed our psychological approach to the shapes of phrases to think about intervals differently; and none of them yielded any significant change.

Then, from out of the blue, two of the ladies in the Choir suggested, for a change, we should stand in mixed formation, with each singer standing next to voices singing a different part, and see what happened. We duly shuffled around, and once arranged to make sure this was so, we started the piece again. Whilst this immediately resulted in a very different sound, it also meant (as everyone observed afterwards) that you could hear different parts that previously you couldn’t hear. The intonation was much improved, and now the group decided to stay in this formation for the remainder of the rehearsal. Singing in isolation from their own particular voice-part, suddenly everyone had to take charge of driving their individual line, with the resulting collective ensemble sound very much improved.

There was a great deal of fun to be had with extremes of dynamic contrast in the Hassler madrigal; we’ve decided to keep the dynamic changes throughout the verses spontaneous and unplanned on the night; it keeps everyone on their toes, and because we’re clearly having a lot of fun being mischievous with them, hopefully the audience will sense this too.

The Choir decided, by the end of the day, that they want to sing in the new formation on the night, a brave decision given that it’s less than two weeks until the performance and it means re-thinking all the pieces, including the three which we sang in the Gala concert in December. But it’s a measure of how much the group is growing in confidence, the fact that it wants to try new things and push itself further. There’s still work to do, now, in getting used to singing all of the pieces in the new line-up – and, as a conductor, I’ve got to re-think where and how to cue the voice-parts, given they are now scattered throughout the entire group; thanks, team! – but there’s a sense that the choir is really starting to fly now. We just have to trust each other and let go.

In performance mode

In performance mode

Find out more about the concert on the Choir’s ‘Wallwisher’ wall here, and details about the concert on our What’s On diary online here.

 

Changing shape in formation (and vowels)

As I stood in the Crypt of Canterbury Cathedral during a meeting on Monday, ahead of the two concerts the University is holding at the Cathedral this term, it dawned on me just how close the Chamber Choir concert is – just over three weeks away.

Crypt-ic…

Rehearsals have taken on a new intensity this term, as we really start to make sure all the pieces are as good as those that we performed back in the gala concert in December. We’ve been pacing slowly through the rich and strange harmonic territory of Lauridsen’s evocative O nata lux, in which tuning is all-important – get in wrong, and the chords turn from lush to awkward. We are working hard, too, to get an increased flexibility in the plainchant sections of Hassler’s Ave maris stella, and have also been taking apart the vowel sounds in his madrigal, Tanzen und Springen. (With two native German speakers in the choir this year, it’s even more important that we get the pronunciation exactly right!) I’m assured by them both that there’s no echt Deutsch way of singing ‘Fa la la,’ but we have been tidying this up by replacing broad ‘ah’ vowels with ‘uh’ and singing more on the ‘l’ than the vowel itself – this seems to have worked, and creates a much tidier (and less Lady Grantham-esque!) shape to the sound.

We’ve also started to work in a slightly deeper horse-shoe formation, mimicking the space in which we’ll be singing, inside the pillars of the Cathedral’s Norman Crypt.

The Cecilian Choir is also preparing for its concert celebrating Britten in his centenary year, and this afternoon we’ll be putting the Ceremony of Carols together with the harp for the first time. Find out how we get on later…

Sweet singing in the Choir

It’s been the end of a very busy period for the Chamber Choir, with two performances as part of the Gala weekend of concerts celebrating the opening of the new music building, followed hard upon by rehearsing and performing in the Cathedral for the University Carol Service.

All of the hard work and commitment came to fruition on Saturday and Sunday with two terrific performances in the Gala concerts, and the most interesting thing to have emerged from both occasions is the fact that all the comments and feedback that have come my way since, all of them have referred to the fact that the pieces were performed from memory. Everyone has noticed this, and it has obviously made a significant impact.

Rehearsing in the concert-hall

I’m very pleased at this; it’s something that the Choir itself (well, Paris at first, but then everyone!) decided it wanted to achieve, and they have worked extremely hard to get the music off the scores and into their heads. It’s certainly true that, as soon as you’re not looking down at the music but out at the audience, you deliver a piece with greater conviction and heightened levels of communication. And it’s clearly worked.

There was a sense of euphoria, therefore, as we gathered in the Cathedral on Monday afternoon, to start rehearsing for the Carol Service. The first two carols are sung from the West end, behind the congregation; and as we did last year, we sang facing sideways to each of the adjacent pillars (no-one can see us: the lights are switched off, and everyone is facing the other way!) to get a little more resonance, and some return on our sound.

As usual, the most excited confusion came with organising how we would process from this formation down the Nave during ‘Once in Royal’ and end up in the right formation on the choral risers behind the altar. Not overlooking the fact that some of the ladies had long dresses and long hair, troublesome for navigating steps and handling lit candles respectively.

Having retired to an adjacent hostelry for dinner in between rehearsal and performance, we gathered in the north aisle at 7.15pm, where Emma led the Choir in her usual dynamic warm-up exercises beneath the sheltering sounds of the Salvation Army playing pre-service carols to the slowly assembling congregation.

Gathering before the Carol Service

Shortly before 8pm, we processed down to the West doors, and waited whilst the lights in the entire Cathedral were doused and candles were lit; from out of the darkness Emma launched ‘The Sussex Carol’ with sprightly vigour, to which the Choir responded, and the service had begun.

Can I get there by candlelight…

After a short silence, there then rose the wonderful warm tones of Paris, one of the sopranos, in the opening verse of ‘Once in Royal,’ with a lovely relaxed, flexible and confident sound. No matter how many years one has heard this carol at the start of a service, there is nothing quite like hearing it at the start of the Carol Service in Canterbury Cathedral.

The processing went, you will be pleased to hear, without a hitch – none of ladies tripped up as they ascended the stairs, and no-one set light to anyone else – and the rest of the service unfolded in the majestic surroundings of the city’s historic cathedral.

At the end of the service, the order of service bids us take our ‘lit candle out of the Cathedral and into the world.’ As I left the Cathedral, walking across the city centre, in front of me a Chinese family were similarly heading home, and the two small children were doing just that – carrying their candle, still alight, through the city. They turned off ahead of me and disappeared down one of the smaller snickleways, and I watched the candlelight dwindle as it must have done many hundreds of years ago, passing between Tudor-timbered shop-fronts as it faded into the night. This is the real magic of the University Carol Service – the combination of a vibrant, international community coming together in an historic venue, where the current University members renew again the Christmas message in the middle of an ancient city.

Merry Christmas.

Sweet singing in the Choir

 

The Estates Team: going bananas in rehearsal

The team from the Estates department met for the second time yesterday, as we launched into two festive pieces for performance next week – arrangements I’ve made of ‘Santa Baby’ and ‘Winter Wonderland’ with which to see out the end of this term, which had us in wintry mood as we explored the words, making sure consonants were clear and getting into the spirit of the pieces.

So eager was a member of staff from a different department to join us, that there was a joke that he would only be able to become a member by turning up to this rehearsal in a banana-suit. Imagine our surprise, then…

Going bananas…

I should assure readers of a nervous disposition that this is not going to become standard dress-uniform for the choir this year… Welcome aboard, Andrew!