Category Archives: Sound thinking

Developing the ensemble

Lift-off at last

We’ve been talking in the Choir about That One Rehearsal, where it all comes together. It happened last year, a decisive moment when things turned a corner and the choir never looked back, and we’ve been feeling that a similar moment hasn’t yet happened this year; and we’ve been wanting it to. When will it come ? How can we make it occur ?

Last night’s rehearsal started with the three carols we will be singing in the Cathedral for the University Carol Service; some serious note-bashing of individual parts, building the verses section by section, following the lines and thinking about the text. We sang them through – ok, progress had been made, we were starting to get a feel for the carols, but nothing particularly exciting was happening with the music, with the ensemble sound.

In a spontaneous and completely un-premeditated moment, I now asked the Choir to stand to sing through the last of the carols, and said ”Right, let’s try it a little differently; sopranos, can you stand over there (pointing to where the tenors normally stand), basses, can you go there (where the altos usually are), altos, can you stand on the end on the left, and tenors, over where the basses usually sing.” We’ve customarily sung in a line, sopranos on the left, moving through the alto and tenor sections towards the right and ending with the basses on the right-hand end; but in order to try to make something happen here, we were now to stand in a new formation.

There was some shuffling around, we arranged ourselves in the new line-up, and sang through Vaughan Williams’ arrangement of ‘The Truth from Above.” The last chord died away, and there was something of an extended silence; we could, I think, all feel that something significant had just happened. The ensemble sound had changed completely. The balance was better; with the sopranos (who are normally the more dominant of the voices) now standing in the middle, the sound was no longer left-hand-heavy; the altos and tenors, now standing on either end, could now be heard more clearly, and because the basses were now also in the middle, everyone could now hear the bottom of the chords and tune to them better.

After a moment, I said ”Ok – how do you fancy singing through the three pieces for the Gala concert in the same formation, to see what happens ?” There was an excited nodding of heads, copies for the three relevant pieces were gathered, and we launched into them.

The effect was astounding. The ensemble sound was more confident, the intonation was improved, and (very importantly) the pitch didn’t drop throughout the entire set of pieces. We reached the climactic phrase at the end of ‘For the Music,’ and there was a moment’s hush followed by sponteneous clapping and whooping from the Choir. (I may even have done a whirl of sheer delight as well.) We had done it; we’d found Our Ensemble Sound, found a way of arranging the Choir in formation that produced the best result.

The rest of the rehearsal seemed to pass in a whirl, as we sailed through the remaining pieces I’d planned. Handel. BAM! Tavener. BAM! Hassler. (Well, ok, some more note-bashing was required for that one). But the prevailing mood was buoyant throughout the rest of the evening; the moment we’d been waiting for had finally happened, and all through an unplanned decision to mix things up there and then.

It just goes to show – the key is to keep changing, keep trying things out, and be experimental, flexible, until that moment comes when you draw a sound from the group unlike one you’ve heard from it before, and which everyone realises is what we’re striving for.

We have lift-off…

First choral rehearsals in the new hall

And what a relief it’s been this week to get into the new concert-hall and sing (well, for the members of the Chamber Choir and Cecilian Choir to sing, that is…). The reverberant acoustics mean we can actually start working to develop the ensemble sound, as we can now hear ourselves as the chords rise into the rooflight. Rehearsing the plainsong which opens Britten’s Ceremony of Carols with the Cecilian Choir gave us the first chance to shape the lines, waiting at the ends of phrases for the sound to recede before beginning the next – something the former choir rehearsal room (the OTE) has never afforded.

The Chamber Choir get moody…

The Chamber Choir rehearsal on Tuesday evening overran by some considerable margin, as we all got slightly carried away with exploring the acoustics in the new space; we ended up finishing at about 9.55pm. But we were having too much fun… At one point, the Choir were stepping in stately procession around in a circle to get the one-in-a-bar feel of Hear Thou My Weeping, whilst Emma organised them into mixed formation to explore the creation of an overall sound in You Are The New Day. Exploring movement and space was never a possibility in the OTE; this year, it might just become de rigeur

Great Britten from the Cecilian Choir

There was great sparkle about ‘Wolcum, Yule!’ as the Cecilian Choir rehearsed the first movement of the Britten, whilst we were able to start crafting the rise and fall of phrases in the opening plainsong.

It’s been a terrific first couple of rehearsals; the chance for the Chamber Choir to sing the pieces we’ll be performing in the Gala opening concert in December, in the very space we’ll be using, will no doubt do wonders for our confidence on the night.

It all starts here…

Workshop, cake and acoustics

The Saturday Chamber Choir workshop soon comes around in the Autumn term, and it seems only yesterday that we all met for the first time; in fact, that was three weeks ago, and so today’s all-day session appears to have rocketed into being.

For an ensemble accustomed to rehearsing from seven o’clock in the evening, meeting at 10am felt really very wrong; it was far too light outside for us to be meeting, surely… But there we were, soon engaged in some motivational warm-up exercises led by Emma that soon shook a few of the members into a state of wakefulness.

We began by returning to Handel’s Hear Thou My Weeping, which we last sang at the very first rehearsal. With the notes coming relatively quickly, the main task was to develop the range of dynamics operating across the piece, in particular the central section with its shift to minor keys and more chromatic motion. By really bringing the dynamics into sharp contrast, the return of the opening section which follows felt much more intimate in comparison; writing the drama of the middle section in broad strokes allows the contrasting outer sections to feel much more effective.

Dawn was in need of some careful tuning, and we rehearsed sections out of time, working through them chord by chord to make sure the intonation was accurate in order to bring the full spectrum of colours in the piece to life.

20121020-195121.jpgThe last piece before the mid-morning break was yours truly’s For the Music, in which we grappled with learning the last section, the only remaining part of the piece that was new to us; imparting a driving rhythmic verve, particularly in the opening section, will be crucial to getting the piece into motion, such that it doesn’t fall flat.

After a break (and much-needed coffee), Emma then led the choir through a first look at Vaughan Williams’ setting of the folk-tune, Just as the tide was flowing; this piece turns out to be deceptively difficult, with lines ducking and diving all over the place; you certainly have to keep your wits about you in this one. This was followed by re-examining Finzi’s My Spirit Sang All Day, in order to establish the tuning in lots of places and makes sure we are moving through the changing harmonies with confidence; the second page represents something of a challenge here, but we have a few weeks in order to address this further.

Lunch ensued, complete with cake as today was alto Olivia’s birthday (happy birthday!), after which we resumed in gentle fashion with Lauridsen’s O nata lux; as I said to the group, this piece is rather like a piece of sacred barbershop music: the text dwells on a religious theme, but the voices are all working hard in close harmony, and it’s jolly difficult to sing with accuracy.

A revisiting of You Are The New Day allowed Emma to take the choir through the final section of the piece yet to learn, and to explore the range of dynamics throughout the work. After this came Tavener’s The Lord’s Prayer which came with ease in this, its second reading; the tranquility with which it unfolds, and its lulling harmonic repetition, means it will be wondrously effective in the Crypt concert in February; I can’t wait to try it…

The last session of the day was unexpected; discovering at lunch-time that the richly resonant hall in Eliot College was free (the move into the new music building is imminent, but sadly didn’t occur in time for us to hold the workshop in the hall), we de-camped from the unforgiving lack of acoustic in our customary rehearsal room and went to sing in Eliot’s lavish, sonorous hall. With no piano, this was our first chance to try Dawn and My spirit sang all day without a safety-net, in a more supportive acoustic – and the difference showed. By the time we’d turned the first page of Dawn, some of the group had started to grin with the sheer pleasure of singing in such a resonant echo, with all the work we’d put into capturing the range of colours and the final aleatoric page where the sopranos shimmer on an eight-note cluster-chord. The Finzi has some, shall we say, rather more hairy moments, but is getting there, and we concluded with a romp through my four Forgotten Children’s Songs , by the end of which we were singing in a circle, pretending we were back in the playground and getting positively tribal in our ensemble.

A long day, hard work, but productive; the opportunity to have sung without the support of the piano, in a kinder acoustic, will have done us good; now all that’s left, as Paris exhorted us from the soprano section, is to get the three pieces for the December concert learned by heart, so we can sing from memory unhindered by having copies. I hear the sound of a gauntlet being thrown down…

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The final term: Ave Maria and a summer Sunday

The Chamber Choir is now heading into its final performing commitments of this academic year, the first of which is Friday 8 June.

Part of the University’s ‘Summer Music,’ a five-day festival of musical events celebrating the end of another academic year, the Chamber Choir comes together with the Cecilian Choir for a programme of music in praise of the Virgin Mary.

Click to view

Ave Maria, on Friday 8 June at 7.30pm at St Mildred’s Church, Canterbury, includes Schutz’s lively Jauchzet den Herren for double-choir, and a combined performance of Gorecki’s epic Totus Tuus. Other pieces in the concert include Rachmaninov’s Bogoroditsye Dyevo, the ‘Kyrie’ and ‘Sanctus’ from Victoria’ Missa O Magnum Mysterium, and we’ve replaced Victoria’s version of the motet with Lauridsen’s beautiful setting, together with Lauridsen’s light-footed En une seule fleur.

After the concert, should the weather be fine and summery, we’ll be spilling out onto the greensward behind the church for al fresco refreshments, which may even include some impromptu music-making as well…

It’s going to be a lovely occasion, in the fine acoustics of St Mildred’s, and the penultimate choral commitment of the Chamber Choir’s year; we’ll be making a final appearance in the Music Society Sunday concert, Music for a Summer’s Day, on Sunday 10 June, in a boisterous finale together with the Concert Band, Chorus and Orchestra.

Details about Ave Maria, together with all the events in Summer Music, online here. Don’t miss it…

No ‘Rest:’ still rehearsing and a concert next week

We’ve spent the past two weeks exploring new repertoire for our concert in June, but last night returned to a distilled section of our Crypt Concert programme to prepare for a lunchtime concert a week on Friday.

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Having spent the previous weeks looking at works by Schutz, Gorecki and Tippett, last night was time to resurrect pieces from the concert last month, ahead of the concert at St Peter’s. Floating through the first piece of plainsong and through into ‘Dawn,’ it felt like we were finally home again. Two weeks sojourning amongst new repertoire, and we’d finally come back where we belonged.

It’s a testament to how much we’d prepared for the previous concert that all the pieces were recalled near-perfectly; there was some dynamic scope to remind the group to explore, but the pieces were all there, as they had been in the Crypt. Returning to a selection of the pieces for next week, it made me realise how much work had gone into the Crypt concert, and how lovely it was to go back to it.

There’s a feeling of relaxation amongst the group, now that the pressure of the previous concert has been lifted; last night, the Choir sang with a new-found freedom, more assurety, than in previous rehearsals. Having performed them publically, we now know we can bring them off, and so we’re performing with a greater sense of accomplishment.

The concert next week (details here) is shared with the debut performance by the University Sirocco Ensemble, and will be a light-hearted way to bring this term’s music-making to a close. We’re looking forward to it…

Light and shade with the Cecilian Choir

On the heels of the Chamber Choir earlier this week, the Cecilian Choir sprang back into rehearsals this afternoon, assembling to rehearse our programme for June.

The theme to this year’s programme uses movements from Victoria’s mass, O Magnum Mysterium, as a skeleton framework, which will be interspersed with other works, using the mass as the unifying thread. The programme will conclude not with Victoria’s setting of the motet, but Lauridsen’s meditative and enduringly popular incarnation.

The ‘Kyrie’ of the Mass opens with a single note, held suspended for four beats in isolation; the effect is that we don’t know what we’re hearing, which degree of the scale it is, or if it is even the tonic. The phrase descends a fifth for the second note, at which point the altos also enter, and we realise the opening note was in fact the dominant of the scale. The motionless nature of the opening contrasts with the gradual polyphonic build-up as the other voices enter and begin to weave their lines.

The Lauridsen setting requires some fine intonation, and whilst there are some beautiful colours, some of the movement between chords is not necessarily as linear as one might like – occasionally angular intervals creep in which sound lovely in context, but aren’t always going where one might expect. We explored several sonorities, practicing stepping between difficult chords to make sure we all knew where we were going.

The same is true of the last piece we rehearsed, Lauridsen’s deft, ephemeral En une seule fleur, which presents even more challenges in the same regard! Good fun, though; the programme will provide contrasting light and shade as we move from Italian polyphony to rich American colours and elsewhere.

And here’s a foretaste of the motet in a richly colourful performance from the choir of King’s, Cambridge.

A tale of two halves

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… Last night’s rehearsal began, I think it is fair to say, pretty poorly. Tempi were dragging, voices were behind the beat, intonation wasn’t great, lines kept going flat, the words were lifeless, there was no story-telling; it felt like an uphill struggle.

And then, and then…

Before...

Midway through the rehearsal, the choir sang what has recently become its calling-card piece, the carol Remember, O Thou Man: they sing this piece extremely well, it has to be said – they breathe as one, they each commit to leading their voice-part, the words really come alive, and the piece works.

It’s as though the group suddenly remembered what they can do, and that they can do it well. The mood changed instantly after the piece, and the second half of the rehearsal worked like a dream. The antiphons had lilt and shape, the other carols came alive, and the prevailing mood was suddenly one of realisation: we can do this, and we are doing it jolly well! At the end of the session, we went back over two of the carols with which the rehearsal had started, and it was as though they were different pieces. Or perhaps we were a different choir.

What’s particularly exciting about this moment is that members of the group are starting to comment on how they can improve, and are starting to give highly motivational speeches – ‘Look, this is what we need to do…’ The first half had been full of my exhortations, trying to get them to do all those things that they hadn’t been doing; but in the second half, they were motivating themselves.

When the group are all working as one, when they are all breathing together, coming in confidently, positively, and telling the story, the results are electrifying. It’s this magic that elevates a performance from a good one to a great one; we just have to remember that we are capable of great performing… When the ideas are fizzing around amongst the singers themselves, when they’re starting to work out what is working well and how they can work to make it happen each time, that’s when things start to get really exciting; the group are learning much faster when they are realising things for themselves.

Such was the palpable enthusiasm that the group suggested singing one of the piece without copies; and did it work! As soon as heads are lifted out of scores, as soon as they are having to look up and sing out, the change in the level of performing is remarkable. You know things are starting to go well when the choir volunteer to sing pieces from memory!

We’ve worked out how to get rehearsals starting at the same standard as that at which last night’s ended: we’re going to start each rehearsal by singing Remember, O Thou Man¸as a reminder of what we should be doing.  As we all realised last night, we were a completely different group at the end of the rehearsal than we had been at the beginning. The trick now will be for us to remember how we were performing at the end, to capture that sense, and to bring it out at the start of subsequent rehearsals, so we start working at the improved level at which we have previously finished.

After...

If we can do this, and do it on Friday, then the concert promises to be something really quite extraordinary…

Nearly there…

With only a week to go before the Crypt Concert, the Chamber Choir are starting to hit their stride. It’s interesting how, on two consecutive days, you can have to completely contrasting rehearsals. Tuesday night was hard work – the end of a long day for many of the students – and the Jackson and Macmillan are difficult pieces.

A second rehearsal on the following Wednesday, however, was a really tonic; gathered in the round in the old OTE rehearsal room, we had our first complete rehearsal without any piano accompaniment, and worked on all the pieces we’ve (I’ve ?!) neglected whilst concentrating on the more challenging repertoire.

And what a fillip it was: everyone came out of the rehearsal on a real high; flying completely solo, with no piano-safety-net, confirmed that we’re nearing our best.

The final rehearsals loom this week: with the impetus of Wednesday behind us, they should fly by. We’ve actually started to become excited about the concert now, a sure sign that we’re becoming more confident in the music, and can start thinking about really performing the pieces rather than simply singing them through.

Roll on Friday!

New concert brochure now on-line

It’s going to be a busy period of music-making at the University this season, and the Chamber Choir are presenting not one but two concerts this term.

The customary Cathedral Crypt Concert in February sees the result of all our rehearsals, in the programme exploring choral music from England, Wales and Scotland, evocatively titled This Scepter’d Isle. In addition, the Choir will be be visiting St. Gregory’s in Wye, in a second programme which will include new repertoire we’ll be learning in between the two engagements.

Details of the Cecilian Choir’s concert this term are being finalised as I type: more details will follow about this later, which should prove an exciting European musical odyssey.

The new choral term starts here: keep up with what’s happening here on the blog, and click here to download the new events brochure (PDF).