Berberis' World

Thursday, 13th April 2023, Royal Festival Hall.

Nearly a decade since last singing it with Lewisham Choral Society, we were joined for this performance of Verdi’s Requiem the Hackney Singers. The Festival Hall is one of my favourite venues, and this evening it was packed. There were more people in the audience than for probably any other concert I’ve been part of.

There may be very little else for me to say about this work. If the different shade of yellow highlighter is anything to go by, there were some minor changes this time round: all Altos join the Tenors for the 2 bars immediately after Figures 9 and 94; Choir 1 and 2 join forces from 7 bars after Fig. 78 to Fig. 79. Any excuse to sing more Verdi is fine with me.

The programme has some interesting Guiseppe gossip: Wagner – perhaps following the old adage of “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all”, or because his opinion was thought irrelevant – declined to say what he thought about the Requiem, whilst both Brahms and George Bernard Shaw respectively declared it the work of a “genius”, and an “imperishable monument”: their agreement about at least one requiem mass in all probability being of absolutely no note whatsoever.

Saturday, 16th March 2024, Blackheath Halls.

Ralph Vaughan Williams – Five Mystical Songs

Francis Poulenc – Piano Concerto in C# minor / Stabat Mater

Conductor: Dan Ludford-Thomas

Piano: Nico de Villiers

Forest Philharmonic Orchestra

Baritone: Daniel Tate

Soprano: Helen Meyerhoff

Piano: Cliodna Shanahan

This term’s major work for Lewisham Choral Society was Poulenc’s Stabat Mater, something I appear to have performed almost exactly 13 years ago with the London Philharmonic. I don’t remember that earlier performance, although I do recall the rehearsals, during which a fellow alto – Stephanie – and I doodled on our scores and wrote comments on how awful the text was.

However, unless Poulenc wrote two Stabat Mater‘s this wasn’t the same work. I don’t have the score from when I was in the LPC so can’t be absolutely sure, but a quick peek at the post from back then has a quote from a review that mentions a Pavan, which wasn’t in this score. The review refers to the piece as having something “sensually Caravaggian about its pained chromaticism…“

Pained is certainly a word one could use.

The other work was Five Mystical Songs by Ralph Vaughan Williams, words by George Herbert.

Song 1 is Easter, and contains the phrase “The cross taught all wood to resound his name who bore the same/His stretched sinews taught all strings, what key is best to celebrate the most high day.” Apart from the ridiculous Tolkienian notion that trees communicate with each other even after they’ve been felled and fashioned into an instrument of torture, comparing the tuning of a lute’s strings to stretching a human being’s sinews to tearing point is just horrible.

Song 2 is the quaintly titled I got me flowers. I prefer Blur’s version.

Song 3, Love bade me welcome, is a dinner invitation. I’d put good money on the fact that no-one has ever invited anyone to dinner with the words “You must sit down […] and taste my meat”.

The choir stay silent during Song 4, The Call. Following on from Song 3, this call should be to the police.

Song 5 is one song – Let all the world in every corner sing – to the tune of another (and not one that I’ve heard before). However, after the other 3 it’s quite cleansing. The altos end on a high D, surpassed only by the E in Easter.

The final rehearsal is in situ with the orchestra. The RVW was as expected: I hadn’t practised anywhere near enough, and it showed. The Poulenc was slightly better, but I finally decided to mark off several bars where – even with considerably more practise – I still couldn’t pitch the notes. Thankfully, there were more than enough altos who knew what they were doing but miming isn’t what I plan to do during a concert. Where I was confident, I sang up. It was a pleasant surprise to end the rehearsal feeling slightly better disposed to Frankie Plank and his pained chromaticism.

For the concert, the Five Mystical Songs passed without incident, bar my forgetting – at different times – both the tune and the words. By contrast, both Daniel, the baritone soloist, and Cliodna, the pianist, were superb. There was a palpable atmosphere in the Hall at the end of Song 4, a collective breath that was held until the Antiphon. I found the D at the end and was glad it was over.

Dan seemed to thoroughly enjoy conducting Poulenc’s Piano Concerto – disjointed and weird as it was -and the orchestra responded to his enthusiasm. There’d been a huge round of applause from the choir when Nico arrived during our rehearsal, and another for his virtuoso performance on the piano. It’s not the main instrument, as in some other concertos, and each section of the orchestra gets their chance to shine. I’d not heard this work before, and probably won’t again.

Stabat Mater went better than I thought it would. At the rehearsal on Wednesday, Dan – referring to the Forest Philharmonic – said “they can play it”. Well, they can – and they did – with an enthusiasm unmatched by mine. Helen sounded wonderful – especially considering she was recovering from a bad cold.

Listening to practice tracks and recordings of the work was probably counter-productive as so much of it sounds wrong. However, the silent four (perhaps five) bars aside, I felt confident, but was still relieved when I managed to pitch the last note correctly. We’ll have to wait until Monday to find out what Dan thought.

Saturday, 11th November 2023, Great Hall, Goldsmiths College.

I missed three things in the run-up to this concert: the Staff Awards on the Friday, where the choir performed in a room largely full of drunk people; the Frankie Boyle gig at the Broadway Theatre in Catford; the final rehearsal on the Saturday morning. All thanks to an ENT consultant who, frankly, should have known better than to bring their virus to a crowded office with no access to fresh air. So, having gone through several hours of self-imposed voice rest, I turned up at 7 with no idea where I was going to stand (hopefully, by one of the basses) or if any last-minute instructions had been given by Dan.

There were no additional notes, but there were two seats reserved for me. I suspect that one of the altos had realised I wasn’t there but would be later on, so saved one independently of the one requested by the seating organiser. Not everyone can always attend the morning rehearsal, so this is quite common.

To be honest, my voice still wasn’t fully recovered, but I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to sing this piece for what must have been the sixth time. This time, though, it was different. This time I knew both Osanna‘s.

The hall was packed – there were even people in the gallery – and they seemed to approve (not of my very minor accomplishment) of the whole performance.

Saturday, 17th March 2018, Great Hall, Goldsmiths College.

Edward Elgar: The Dream of Gerontius

The Bromley Boy Singers
Forest Philharmonic Orchestra
Tenor: Peter Davoren
Bass: David Stout
Mezzo Soprano: (I’m ashamed to say I don’t remember the name of the lovely lady who stepped in at the last minute – my profound apologies. I will find out.)
Organ: James Orford
Conductor: Dan Ludford-Thomas

The text for Gerontius is awful stuff. The glorification of, and wallowing in, the suffering and pain and fear associated with death in the name of religion… it’s loathsome. It’s a tribute to Elgar that he managed to write music glorious enough to overwhelm such nonsense.

And I do mean glorious. As a member of the chorus, by far the highlight of Gerontius is in Part 2. It starts at figure 74 and goes right through to the end of figure 100, and is arguably some of the most exhilarating and exhausting music written for a chorus. It was fortunate that Dan’s conducting from figure 89 (moreso from figure 95) was at a speed slow enough that it allowed us to relish the big build-up to the final chord – and the lung-shredding crescendo through it – but not so slow that the mawkish text got in the way. I’ve heard recordings where it sounds like it’s on fast-forward, and they are definitely not to my taste. Happily, Dan seemed to agree.

Before this thirty six page workout there is a section in Part 1, from the start of bar 639 to the end, which is almost as fabulous, if nowhere near as physically draining.

Dan admitted that he had very personal reasons for staging this particular work. I understood this feeling completely. Performing Gerontius had been a long time coming for me: it was the next concert in line for the LCS when I left in 2008, and it was the same for the LPC when I unsuccessfully reauditioned in 2011. So there was a certain degree of ‘what’s going to happen to prevent me singing it this time?’ about this third attempt*. Viruses/work stress/another engagement could all have intervened – thankfully, nothing got in the way. I don’t think I’ve enjoyed rehearsing as much since the Deustches Requiem, and the concert did not disappoint.

*This isn’t strictly true. The third attempt was successful: in 2015, I somehow managed to get involved in a scratch performance of Gerontius that had been arranged by a wonderfully enthusiastic and dynamic woman called Diana Bickley. This was staged at Henry Wood Hall in Central London. I have to confess to not remembering much about it, apart from one rehearsal in a very warm room, and feeling very emotional during the section in Part 2 that I found the most rewarding in 2018.

So, thanks to Dan for choosing this for us, and thanks to everyone who made this concert so enjoyable.

Saturday, 16th December 2017, St Mary the Virgin, Lewisham.

Vaughan Williams: Fantasia on Christmas Carols

Carols for choir and audience: It came upon the midnight clear/Gabriel’s message/The crown of roses/There is a flower/O little town of Bethlehem/Star carol/Hush! my dear, lie still and slumber/Sir Cristémas/Of the Father’s heart begotten/Carol of the bells/God is with us/I wonder as I wander/God rest ye merry, gentlemen/Hark! the herald-angels sing

Baritone: Pierpaolo Finaldi

Piano: Nico de Villiers

Conductor: Dan Ludford-Thomas

Ah, Xmas. Or Christmas, if you think the X takes Christ out of the season (it doesn’t). Add a splash of red to the usual long and black!, partake of mulled wine during the interval!, join in with the descant!

All three are optional, of course. In reality, as an alto, only two of them are achievable on the night. The descant is, on the whole, about two or three tones too high for comfort. Besides, some of the alto lines are actually better than the melody. Only some, mind you – there really are only so many Es you can sing in a row…

As far as the carols go, there were the usual suspects. All of these are lovely, and just being able to sing the tune in the last verse makes a change.

Gabriel’s message is – to all but the sopranos – you only get one word. The crown of roses is a song about a child being really very badly bullied – where were the parents of these yobs? Horrific.

There is a flower is a bit twee. I have never yet managed to pitch the C in bar 57. O little town of Bethlehem is rehearsed with the warning that it is NEVER ‘where meek souls will receive him still <breath> the dear Christ enters in’. We know. Why not remind the audience?

Star carol is really for children. And the 1980s.

Hush! my dear, lie still and slumber was my favourite, because the altos got to sing the tune… not once, but twice!! And there was much rejoicing. Seriously. Just remember to NOT sing verses 3 and 5, and yes there’s a verse 7 over the page. One of the best things about this being that, if you forget, there is a minim rest in the first bar so no-one will notice. The other best things are the final 10 bars. Splendid stuff.

I hate Sir Cristémas. But I can channel this into the first alto entry in bar 4, which helps me get through the rest of the nonsense. Dan loves it, so I can say with almost 100% certainty that we’ll sing it next Xmas as well.

Of the Father’s heart begotten is an old-school majestic sing, with a glorious alto line in the last verse. And the end of the first half of the concert.

There was the usual rush for mulled wine, which always smells nicer than it tastes.

Carol of the bells is irrevocably improved changed by the Cracked Christmas parody. God is with us is all breves and weirdness. Not sure about this one. Needs a good soloist, so that may limit whether we sing it every year. I wonder as I wander is quite jazzy – given my dislike of modern religious music, I shouldn’t like it, but I do.

God rest you merry, gentlemen is another make-sure-you-breathe-in-the-right-place carol. It’s ‘God rest you merry <comma> gentlemen’. Again, no-one takes any notice.

Hark! the herald-angels sing – I always want to sing the descant but it goes to a top A, and that’s a good tone above my present range.

Fantasia on Christmas Carols we’ve sung before. I think I also sang it with the LPC, but can’t find any evidence of that. Again, it needs a good soloist –  which we definitely had – and you need to be able to count, as the time signature is all over the place. There are a few bars towards the end that, in previous performances, I’ve always sung incorrectly but – yay! not this time.

A hugely enjoyable – and very well attended – concert.