Tag Archives: Chamber Choir

Make we joy now

The season of Advent has well and truly begun over last weekend. In fine voice, the Chamber Choir rose to the match the occasion on Friday and delivered a performance rich in nuance, flexibility, and with a unity of ensemble that at times made them sound as one voice.

In fine voice: this year's Chamber Choir

All the aspects upon which we’d worked in rehearsals – dynamics, diction, flexibility – came out.

In the rehearsal earlier in the afternoon, we’d practiced the pieces, of course,  but more importantly, we’d rehearsed processing in and out and bowing. As I said to them, the performance starts the moment the group processes into the performing space; you win or lose the trust of the audience in that moment, in the manner in which you take command of the space, the way in which you hold yourself as you walk on. Walk with confidence, and the audience will immediately trust that you are about to deliver a performance equal in confidence. Walk on sloppily, self-consciously or nervously, and you communicate that sense to the audience and lose their trust in you. No matter what happens afterwards, walking into the performance governs their initial reaction and trust in what follows.

We also rehearsed bowing. In focusing so much on the pieces, on performing, It’s easy to overlook what happens after the singing stops. If you deliver a polished programme, it can be tarnished by losing discipline in bowing and leaving the performing area; a good group carries high standards of professionalism right through until it has left the public eye. There was some mirth over whether to mutter ‘Have I cleaned my shoes ? Yes, I’ve cleaned my shoes!’ in lowering and raising one’s head or to use ‘Down, two three – Up, two three!’ instead. Then there was confusion (and much hilarity) over whether, whichever phrase one used, one lowered the head over the length of the phrase (‘Have I cleaned my shoes ?’), or whether one whipped one’s head down straight away on the first word (‘Have’) and then immediately up on the later word (‘Yes’), which could potentially result in whip-lash. With such issues are pre-concert rehearsals concerned…

In the waiting-room outside the church, Steph led the warm-ups and we sang the first antiphon and our trusted Remember, O Thou Man to focus our minds on the opening of the concert. When we filed into the back of the church, preparing to process down the middle, we were greeted by a packed audience; from outside, candle-flames flickered and danced a warm orange halo at the windows, and the atmosphere inside was electric. As the first Advent antiphon rose into the rafters, I was immediately reassured; the sound was confident, the ensemble was secure, and the group was about to deliver a fine performance. As the text of Steve Martland’s carol puts it, ‘Make we joy now in the fest,’ and we certainly did.

Congratulations and thanks to everyone who participated, to the choir, readers, those who manned the ticket-desk, to Janet and Tim for their help with setting the church, to those who ran the post-concert refreshments and the nocturnal parking arrangements, and to Stephen Laird for the invitation to perform. Advent has begun.

Not long to go…

It’s the morning of the concert: the programmes are printed, tickets are selling well, I’ve been going through all the music for tonight in my head as I took the dog roaming over the hills this morning, the Choir are chafing at the bit, ready to get to the church this afternoon for a short practice, and there’s little else to do.

Advent concertWe’ve had our final two rehearsals this week, and momentum is well and truly built: we’re full of potential energy (physics-at-school flashback), poised to begin the push through this afternoon into tonight’s performance. Even the Steve Martland carol, which has caused us some interesting moments, is reaching its zenith.

Looking back over this blog at the choir’s evolution over the course of this term, I realise how far we’ve come in a short space of time; I suddenly remembered that, until the first rehearsal back on October 4, this choir hadn’t met, hadn’t sung together, people didn’t know one another. In a mere seven weeks, they’ve turned from a nervous group of strangers into a fully-fledged choir; in the past two weeks especially, they’ve developed confidence in one another, and begun to develop a rounded, confident sound, flexible in its dynamic scope. They’ve learnt an entire programme for  concert performance, and have also been learning repertoire for the concert in February.

Not bad for a group that tends to meet only once a week…a testament to their commitment, and to Steph’s work with them as well.

The church people are currently setting the church for tonight, including (I hope) an array of candles, and possibly even a candelabra suspended from the roof mid-way down the nave. With the place a-glow with candles, hushed expectation in the audience, the first of the Advent antiphons is about to weave its magic through the air and really open the door into the season.

Here’s to tonight: stand by for a review afterwards.

Bass Desires: Eyebrow Action

Bass Desires: third-year English student Charles Green reports from the bass section…

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Mixed formation has shaken things up in the Chamber Choir.

The eyes have it...

At practise, I no longer sit with Matt Norman, whispering the same old euphemisms and profanities; now I get to look at him on the other side of our horseshoe. Faces have replaced words, and not always distracting ones. It has changed the way we handle our line.

On Tuesday, at his suggestion, we laid aside our copies of Carol of the Bells and put in some physical expression rather than rigid folder-holding. Likewise, when Dan again proved his superfluity (but obviously only a tiny bit) in Remember, O Thou Man, there was an excellent moment in which we all looked eagerly to each other for entries and tempo.

We had a really good rehearsal. Last week at Blean we were suffocated not only by the dry acoustic of the church, but by our own lack of confidence in attacking phrases and singing with a bit of gesture, but this time we went for it. Actually, the first half was [censored for readers of a gentle disposition]  – only when Paris Noble made a startlingly inspirational appeal for positivity did we all begin to sing like we wanted to be there. For these Christmas carols (Ding Dong springs to mind), we can afford to overdo it, and this is particularly true for the cathedral service, where consonants need to be spat to be heard at all as our voices will wash over the Nave.

If we look and sound like overenthusiastic idiots, then we’re probably doing the right thing. I look like I’m about to burst into tears when I’m singing high, but I think I can be proud to look this way when everyone else does. That said, the horseshoe shape might prove our undoing if everyone looks like me while singing. It might just set Matt Norman off mid-concert.

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…

Mixed-voice formation: it’s official

It’s official: we’re going to be standing in mixed-voice formation for the concert next week.

All mixed up: and loving it!

Working on the programme in rehearsal last night, we made the decision to run the entire session standing in mixed voice-parts, as we’re keen to develop this aspect of our performing, with a view to trying it out a week on Friday. A decision not without challenges, especially given that last night’s rehearsal was the first time we’d been in the church in which we’ll be performing, and given also that some of the Choir were seeing the music for perhaps only the first time, and we were three members short due to illness. (Look after yourselves, people, between now and next Friday!).

Some of the pieces were very good: the three that we’ll be singing in the Cathedral in December in particular are in robust health. Some are finding their way off the page a little less quickly; the up-beats in the soprano melody in The Angel Gabriel need taking firmly in hand in order to give each verse a confident start, which then reassures the accompanying voices that they are also coming in correctly.

In the Bleak Mid-Winter by second-year Rachel Richardson is beginning to ebb and flow nicely – and even had the composer’s approval last night! – as the voices become gradually more secure.

Steph Richardson stepped out to direct two pieces; the carol It Came Upon A Midnight Clear is developing well, but just needs more commitment to the story-telling; there’s a mixture of intimacty and celebration in the words that the group really needs to communicate. Carol of the Bells is a delight, and promises to be a highlight.

The biggest challenge left to us is the Martland carol; the refrains are beginning to develop a lively dance-feel, together with the dynamic markings that lead through a gradual crescendo as the phrase ‘Make we joy now’ is repeated. The verses, however, require supreme confidence both in knowing where the melodic line is leading, as well as in the words, a blend of Latin and English. I can see where the focus of our last few rehearsals is going to be…

In contrast, I proved myself to be utterly redundant in Remember, O Thou Man; as a test of the unity of ensemble, the choir faced not inwards but outwards, away from each other and unable to see one another, and sang the piece through. They have such a firm grasp of the piece that they sang without needing any conducting at all; listening to one another, breathing together and sure of the tempo, they delivered a pinpoint-perfect rendition that had them moving as one. It’s at this point that I feel my work is done.

Speaking to Janet, the extremely helpful Church Warden who looked after us last night, there’s also the possibility that the church will be candle-lit for the concert. Fingers crossed that this might be so: it would create a wonderful atmosphere…

A few rehearsals left before the day; some fine-tuning to do (and Martland to instil!), but we’re on track.

Touching the past: the Advent antiphons

And so, this week we ventured yet further into our Advent repertoire. With the concert looming at the end of November, time to start the great Advent antiphons. As written about in a previous post, the magic of these antiphons resides in breathing life and flexibility into them, finding a rhythmic freedom that will allow the lines to ebb and flow with a naturalness, whilst still retaining the integrity of the ensemble. We explored the first and third, ‘O Wisdom’ and ‘O, Root of Jesse.’ Singing this music is a direct link with the past; you really feel history coming alive as the music unfolds. The antiphons date from before the ninth century, culled from Old Testament texts to foretell the coming of the Messiah, and singing them puts one in direct contact with a tradition dating back over a thousand years.

From medieval simplicity to the rich, clashing harmonies of the carol, Remember, O Thou Man; we worked at particularly pungent chords, moving very slowly between particular dissonances in a way that rendered certain passages actually rather alarmingly modern.

Steph then led the group in their first look at the Carol of the Bells, getting the choir to sound like bells ringing. A sprightly piece, this, and popular with the group. Lots of words to get across, too…

Time also to get to grips with a tricky corner in Barnum’s Dawn, building some of the chords note by note, a real opportunity to revel in the rich colours of many of the added-note chords that require great commitment from the voice-parts: the chords need to be delivered with great conviction for the colours to bloom.

Brahms’ In Stiller Nacht is maturing nicely; just some pronunciation aspects to sort out, as there are also in Monteverdi’s Ecco mormorar l’onde. This piece is the hardest so far. By contrast, and as a respite from the linguistic minefields afforded by these pieces, we went back to Sleep Wayward Thoughts, which is starting to lift off the page and achieve some rhythmic grace.

A final return to Whitacre’s Sleep, to look at the climactic section towards the end; tricky lines for the choir, where each part has to have courage to follow their lines through and stand firm in clashing dissonances.

A great rehearsal, full of colour; next week, we’ll be getting seriously in the Christmas mood as we broach, for the first time this year, that harbinger of the Christmas season: Carols for Choirs

A new Dawn, a new day: the new Chamber Choir

And rising, phoenix-like, from the ashes of last year’s Chamber Choir is the new ensemble, which met tonight for the first time.

First meetings are always tentative, with new members suddenly thrown into the fray alongside returning singers from the previous year. It’s difficult to sing confidently amongst strangers, especially when grappling with new pieces to sight-read and sometimes different languages in which to sing, in an unfamiliar venue on a campus at which you might only have arrived a few weeks previously.

And the group rose to the occasion splendidly.

After some tricksy warm-ups from Steph Richardson, this year’s student conductor, it was straight to work, looking at four pieces for the Crypt Concert in February of next year. First up, Dawn by the American composer Eric Barnum, a Whitacre-esque meditation on the rising day. We followed this with Vaughan Williams’ Sweet Day, a mock-Elisabethan part-song.

A sojourn in Italy next, with Lassus’ Tutto lo di, a deft villanelle which trips through various metric values, full of life and vigour. Some might consider not introducing the challenge of singing in a foreign language at a first rehearsal – all those tricky vowel-shapes and the minefield of pronunciation – but the group rose to the challenge with spirit.

We finished by looking at some genuine Whitacre,  Sleep, his profound and beautiful piece to a poem by Charles Anthony Silvestri. Some astonishing chords here, with consonant sonorities supporting semitone clashes that give a real piquancy to the music, some rich colours and breath-taking sonorities – we’ve begun building certain passages chord-by-chord, and the choir have taken to it straight away.

All in all, a terrific first rehearsal: well done to all the choir for their work, to Steph for leading the group through the warm-up exercises: more next week. It’s time to start getting excited about the year ahead…

The Chamber Choir

The final concerts…

As the final term gets underway today, preparations are already apace for the final two choral engagements for the Chamber and Cecilian Choirs of the year.

A titanic event looms, as both choirs combine to perform out at St. Vincent’s Church, Littlebourne on Friday 10 June; the programme includes the ‘Agnus Dei’ from Frank Martin’s sublime Mass for Double Choir, which I blogged about back in December with an audio link: it’s a dream come true, to be able to perform part of the work.

Each choir will perform some of their solo ensemble pieces, and will come together for a further two pieces during the same concert; I’ve not been to Littlebourne since last year, and can’t quite remember the dimensions of the performing space, so I’m hoping there’ll be enough room to accommodate both choirs at the same time!

The Chamber Choir will also bid farewell to the year with an appearance in the Sunday concert as part of ArtsFest on 12 June, which sees performances also from the Concert Band, Chorus and Symphony Orchestra; I can’t tell you what the Choir will be singing at the concert, as it’s top-secret – suffice to say, it’s a recent chart-topper straight from the pop charts, and is sure to have everyone singing along if they haven’t forgotten the words… (see what I did, there ?).

As rehearsals begin this week, it’s also a sign the end is in sight, always a sad occasion, as final-year students leave; both Choirs, when they return in October, will be completely different. But I console myself with the reflection that it’s the process, not the product, that is the great delight with the choirs; the year-long round of rehearsing and performing, learning repertoire, crafting the sound, and getting to know each other over the course of the year that is what choral singing here at Kent is all about. We’re lucky to have two such ensembles, indeed a vibrant Music Department, at a university which doesn’t offer a formal Music degree at its Canterbury campus: it’s been a terrific year, and although the last concerts indicate the end of another year, they will be great occasions as well. We’ll be keeping you posted here as we rehearse over these last weeks before the concerts: don’t miss them…

All Wye on the night: Chamber Choir review

First-year student Matt Bamford reviews on-line last Friday’s Chamber Choir concert over on ‘Music Matters,’ as the choir brought the term’s music-making activities to a triumphant conclusion in a performance at Wye Parish Church.

There was great assurance about their performance: terrific craft, subtlely, wit and elegance – like a fine wine, the Choir has continued to mature this term in the period since the Cathedral Crypt Concert, and they delivered a concert full of confidence, polish and character. The madrigals danced with fitting elegance and poise, the Macmillan blossomed off the page, the Skempton revelled in its sonorous yet subtle colours, and the jazz piece demonstrated the close-harmony singing is another of the group’s strengths, aided by some terrific scat improvisation from Steph Richardson.

Thanks to both the Chamber and Cecilian Choirs for all their hard work and commitment across the course of this term, it has resulted in some fine performing and a terrific demonstration of the quality of music-making at the University. There’s more to come next term: watch this space!