Tag Archives: Chamber Choir

Tomorrow never comes: but the Crypt Concert will!

That’s it! The final two rehearsals this week are over, and arrangements are in place for tomorrow’s Crypt Concert.

On your marks...

Since last Tuesday, all the rehearsals have been without a piano; and we’ve found we no longer need it. This is a tremendous boost for the group. And now, after the unkind and spartan acoustics of the lecture theatre and OTE rooms in which we’re used to rehearsing, the next time the group invokes a chord, it will be in the richly reverberant acoustics of the Crypt. After all the hard work, it will be a fine reward: we just have to make sure we’re not overwhelmed by the sound, and forget all the discipline and the nuances we’ve worked to achieve.

The challenge with rehearsing and performing in the Crypt on the day of the concert, for the conductor at least, is to pace the pieces – and the programme as a whole – to take account of the tremendous sonic possibilities offered by the Crypt. We get a short time to sing through the pieces in the afternoon, before the performance in the evening, and very quickly both conductor and choir have to adapt to the new acoustic, to allow sufficient time for chords to die away and to pace phrases so that words and quicker passages of notes aren’t lost.

It’s a very steep learning curve on the day: but we’re ready for it. Here we go…

We sing both night and day: the Carol Service

Picture, if you will, an ancient cathedral plunged into darkness; the only light comes from the dancing flames of the candles held aloft by the congregation. From out of the silence, and the dark, two voices begin singing the first verse of Once In Royal David’s City. The voices soar into the recessed depths of the vaulted roof; the second verse begins, the same melody now supported with rich harmonies. The Carol Service is underway.

The Chamber Choir rose to the occasion in admirable form, beginning the service with Tavener’s Today the Virgin, delivered with punch and rhythmic vitality – having performed it this time last week at the Advent Concert, it’s become comfortably familiar, and the group delivered it with great confidence, each lengthening ‘Alleluia’ growing and filling the Cathedral with ringing harmony.

On a roll, now, the next solo choir carol, The Holly and the Ivy, virtually sprang from the page, and was by turns vivacious, playful and wonderfully legato in all the right places.

And my piece, A Babe Is Born, had an air of medieval magic, the second sopranos and altos evoking the distant choir of angels abroad on a winter’s night, celebrating Christ’s birth, and the whole choir dancing as one with the feel of the rhythms throughout. We decided, in rehearsal that afternoon, to give the final gesture, a three-note rising phrase on ‘cardine!’ more impetus by half-singing, half-declaiming the phrase – notes were less important than the drive of the phrase in the larger-scale surroundings of the Cathedral – and the final, exultant shout echoed wonderfully round the Nave for a good eight seconds before receding.

Traditionally, the University Carol Service celebrates the multi-culturalism of the University community by having Silent Night in a variety of different languages; this presented something of a linguistic minefield for everyone, with some fairly exotic verses being dealt with admirably, if not necessarily with quite the proper pronunciation!

As the service ended, and the congregation left the Cathedral with their candles re-lit during O Come All Ye Faithful, there was a sense that Christmas really had, finally, begun. The University community had come together in words and music to reflect on the season; and as the sea of dwindling candle-flames receded down the nave and out into the winter night, the spirit of Christmas went with them.

With thanks to the Choir for all their hard work over the course of this term; it’s been a great success: friendships have been forged, great performances have been achieved, meat and mead have been shared, and the group have done themselves proud. They have become a family: looking after and supporting one another, and achieving great things together.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Trolling the ancient Yuletide carol: Chamber Choir at St. Mildred’s

Touch and go, this week, as to whether the concert would even happen. Heavy snow since Monday, icy roads and dodgy travelling conditions meant it wasn’t until ten o’clock on the morning of the concert, with event organisers exchanging phone-calls like Nato Superpowers planning a strategic response, that the green light came on.

Digital communication then came to the fore, with texts, e-mail and Facebook being deployed to tell performers and potential audience-members alike that the concert was still on. Choir and readers travelled gingerly along icy roads to rehearse at the church in the afternoon, before repairing to an hostelry in the centre of Canterbury for dinner; treacherous travelling meant that most people preferred not to have to go back to campus or home betwixt rehearsal and concert.

And what a concert it was. The Chamber Choir rose to the occasion and unleashed a sound quite unlike anything they have ever delivered in rehearsals hitherto; ensemble was tight, intonation excellent, and well-worked diction meant the words were clear. The readers, including staff from the University, an alumnus and members of the choir, provided some thought-provoking reflections on the Advent season, and the church community provided wine and mince pies for the benefit of all afterwards.

And the aspect most commented upon about the concert ? Not the performing (about which the feedback from the audience was highly enthusiastic afterwards), but the attire: how smart and professional everyone looked. New ties for the chaps and scarves for the ladies, matched and co-ordinated, added to the visual presentation of the performance, and was remarked on by nearly everyone with whom I spoke afterwards. It’s the details that count, just as much as the performing; in fact, perfecting the look and visual presentation of the group already establishes a level of professionalism even before a chord has been sung. Look organised, and the audience already believe you will sound thus, before hearing a thing.

Well done to all, who worked to make the concert a success, and thanks to St. Mildred’s for their support and for the opportunity to perform in their historic church. They’ve asked us back again in the future: the bar has now been set pretty high! The ensemble has flexed its muscles in public on three occasions now, and has grown to become a fully-fledged choir, with a rich and exciting sound. And I confess: I’m proud of what we’ve achieved, proud of the choir and the commitment they’ve shown, and of the heights to which they have risen and the standards they’ve reached.

Next up: Canterbury Cathedral, for the University Carol Service. Bring it on!

Getting all medieval: Chamber Choir at the Society Showcase

Stepping back in time (musically-speaking, that is), the Chamber Choir sang two medieval pieces as part of the Music Society Showcase last week.

Seasonally inappropriate it might have been, but Sumer is icumen in was delivered in fine style, and was followed by Tourdillon, a traditional French song which here had English words comparing the repsective benefits of ale and punch. (The jury is still out…).

Thanks to everyone who performed, and to the Music Society President for inviting us to participate: our first public engagement this term, we now have three in quick succession, so it was great to get the Choir singing  and flexing their (vocal) muscles publically for the first time.

(And no thigh-slapping in sight…)

Let there be (Christmas) lights: Chamber Choir in town on Thursday

Time to squeeze another event into the Chamber Choir’s packed seasonal schedule: we’re delighted to have been invited to perform in town this Thursday, as Canterbury officially launches its Christmas celebrations and switches on its Christmas lights.

The Marlowe Theatre panto

On-stage in the area outside Fenwick’s at 5pm, the Choir will be performing a selection of carols before stars from this year’s Marlowe pantomime ‘Robin Hood‘ turn on the lights; this year’s show includes The Fast Show’s John Thompson (“Hullo, and welcome to Jazz Club: nice!”) and CBeebies’ Sid Sloane, so there’ll be a chance for some celebrity-spotting as well.

Catch them if you can!

Mostly medieval, with thigh-slapping

History on the page: Sumer is icumen in

The Choir are singing as part of the Music Society Showcase on Saturday, for which we rehearsed last night two lusty medieval pieces – the French song Tourdillon, which we’re singing with English words in praise of English booze, and Sumer is icumen in in four parts with a medieval-style pronunciation of the text; ‘Sumer is icumen in, lhude sing cucu! Groweth sed and bloweth med and spring be woode nu.’ The tenors and basses were reduced to thigh-slapping bombast and peasant dance-style footwork to relieve the monotony of their repeated two-bar accompaniment, which actually did much to get the lively, robust style into the piece that it needs. Will you do the same on the night, chaps ?!

For the Crypt concert, we looked at Britten’s early, antiphonal Hymn to the Virgin; dynamics are the key to bringing this piece to life, the crescendi in the second choir that lead into the beseeching harmonies of the first choir’s reply, and the diminuendi  that lead into the more intimate passages – ‘Darkest night – then comes the day,’ to which the second choir respond in Latin.

Continuing the medieval theme were the Advent antiphons, which  are finally starting to come together; the group are beginning to feel the ebb and flow of the phrases, and to take responsibility for delivering the line; a confident start to each one with clear vowel and positive first gesture means the rest of the phrase comes together well.

Thence back to carols, and time to check some of the intonation in the inner voices in The Holly and the Ivy. The Choir are now delivering this with real character, the driving conviction with which the refrain bursts into life at ‘O, the rising of the sun’ and the syncopated inter-play between voices at ‘the playing of the merry organ’ contrasting with the legato lines of ‘sweet singing in the choir.’ There’s real spirit about it now.

A Babe Is Born has at last found some real shape, some real conviction about the final page with its widely-spaced dissonant chords reflecting the angel’s cry, and some genuine energy in the Latin phrases, ‘Veni Creator Spiritus’ and ‘A solis ortus cardine,’ and so on. It’ll be a nerve-wracking experience, presenting a piece of mine in performance and wondering what sort of reception it will receive, but it will at least have great energy and commitment in its delivery that might win people over!

The Advent concert is in two weeks on Friday: after this evening, and with a couple of rehearsals to go, I’m starting to be confident in that fact that we’re going to be fine. And, in the case of A Babe Is Born and The Holly and the Ivy, some genuine craft and musicianship to demonstrate.

I’m not sure about the thigh-slapping, though…

A church, some carols…and Skempton

A miserable night yesterday: dark, windy, cold and raining.

Inside St. Mildred’s Church, however, light, music and jollity abounded; we had battled the elements in order to hold our customary Tuesday night rehearsal in the church, in order to work without a piano and to get a sense of the space and the acoustics for the concert.

The antiphons are developing: a little more confidence in delivery is needed here; singing plainchant is a skill that requires initial groundwork, and many have not sung this style of music before; a combination of flexibility in the line, following the rise and fall of the speech, as well as confidence in taking responsibility for the line and doing so at the same time as everyone else. Tricky – it requires a lot of work to appear effortless!

The carols are progressing, too; singing in the acoustic of the church meant we could really start to draw forth a full ensemble sound from the group, balance the parts, and begin to explore bringing out specific notes and phrases in particular voices. Bethlehem Down especially is starting to develop some three-dimensionality as it lifts off the page, and with some sensitive dynamics starting to be included, it’s going to be a treat.

The final singing of the evening was a chance to re-visit Skempton’s He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven. It’s not a Christmas piece, it’s not in the Advent service in a few weeks’ time – in fact, we’re not actually singing it until February. But this was too good an opportunity to miss: the chance to sing it in a sonorous acoustic, arranged in a crescent-shape similar to the way we’ll be standing to perform in the Cathedral Crypt. (And besides, I love the piece, so any opportunity to sing it is welcome indeed…). We took it a fraction under-tempo, as it’s been several weeks since we first sang it, and this is only the second reading; this meant the chords hung in the air for just a little longer than usual, and the colours really had a chance to blossom. It worked so well, in fact, that I’m wondering whether it shouldn’t go at that speed in performance; it’s marked Andante, but perhaps my enthusiasm has pushed the speed slightly ? Something to think about…

(Don’t tell the composer…).

A medieval summer, Bethlehem Down and dancing with Shakespeare

Credit to the choir for this latest rehearsal: we worked through a lot of repertoire in a very short time.

Time to re-visit the Advent antiphons, and to capture some of that floating effortlessness that sounds so easy, but is hard to achieve; you can’t really conduct them too much lest you destroy the sense of freedom that they seem to occupy, so the choir have to trust one another to come in after the pauses and have confidence in the phrases; in other words, they have to know the music really well!

History on the page: Sumer is icumen in

From a wind-swept and rainy late October, we moved through the seasons to the approach of summer with Sumer is icumen in, with its lusty dance-rhythms and its rustic celebration of the turning of the season to herald the beginning of summer. We’re working on a medieaval English style of pronunciation – ‘Sumer is icumen in, lhude sing cucu; growth sed and bloweth med and spring be wude nu.’ I firmly believe in performing ancient and modern music side by side, a terrific way of glimpsing the sounds of the past and sometimes showing that some modern music sounds as ancient as medieval manuscripts, whilst some ancient music can sound as modern as contemporary pieces. We’re working on creating a vibrant, lively sound – no ‘received pronunciation’ here! – to bring it to life. There are also sacred words to the song, ‘Perspice christicola,’ which we’ll perform later in the same February programme with a wholly different and more appropriate sensibility.

Thence to the last of the Vaughan Williams Shakespeare Songs, ‘Over hill, over dale,’ which in its 6/8 rhythm dances along over bush and briar; we worked at it slowly, and then sang it through at a rough mid-tempo pace – it’s nearly there, another rehearsal will have it dancing off the page. We also returned to the first half of ‘Full Fathom Five,’ and really worked to make the bell-peal imitations ‘ping’ off the page with a percussive start to each ‘ding.’ We also explored the rich chords clothing the word ‘strange,’ and immersed ourselves in the chords by prolonging them, to get used to the sound of the flattened sixths and added seconds and the way the notes beat against one another.

After the break, we entered the almost mystical landscape of Warlock’s Bethlehem Down, and it was here that the choir started to come together for the first time that evening. Something obviously clicked – several of the choir have sung the piece before, admittedly – but somehow the atmosphere created by the text and the harmonies Warlock spins around the words came straight off the page. We explored dynamic contrasts between verses, as well as between lines in the verses; the greatest challenge was to get rid of the bar-lines, and sustain the long phrases across the bars without breaking the line and losing the impetus.

A brief recap of the opening sections of the ‘Gloria’ from the Jackson Edinburgh Mass; difficult music, rhythmically challenging and harmonically, lots of cluster chords to get right.

We ended by singing Today The Virgin and A Babe is Born; lots of rhythmic drive needed for the Tavener, and a richer sound required, whilst A Babe is Born needs plenty of bounce and energy to help it dance along.

Some really good work here, particularly the Warlock: with all its meandering lines and harmonic twists, it came alive almost immediately and was a joy to work up. Next week ? Hopefully the carol books will have arrived, so we can prepare the more traditional carols for the Advent concert.

Advent by Candlelight: forthcoming concert

Advent posterThe first concert commitment in the Chamber Choir’s diary is now only six weeks away, and is a new addition to the Concert Diary for the department.

We are delighted to be launching the Advent season for St. Mildred’s Church on Stour Street, Canterbury this year, in a programme that includes popular seasonal music and readings.

We’ll be performing Britten’s Hymn to the Virgin, Tavener’s Today the Virgin, giving my carol A Babe is Born an outing before the Cathedral Carol Service the following week, as well as an array of traditional carols to welcome the beginning of the Advent period.

There will also be a selection of poetry and scriptural readings on the Advent theme, and the concert will be threaded through by the wonderful Advent antiphons. With the whole church lit by candlelight on this winter’s night, when the past, present and future will, for a short moment in words and song, come together, it promises to be a wonderful occasion

Tickets are now on sale: details on the What’s On calendar on-line here.

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