LOOKING FORWARD, LOOKING BACK

LOOKING FORWARD, LOOKING BACK

Writtle Singers at All Saints’ Church

11.11.17

Unaccompanied songs of anticipation, grief and regret in this beautifully crafted sequence of music and readings.

The Singers began with Sterndale Bennett’s 1846 setting of Marlowe’s Come Live With Me, and ended with the equally upbeat Swansea Town, by Gustav Holst.

The Thaxted composer was also represented by a polished performance of his Five Part Songs – the first, Dream Tryst, could easily have been mistaken for Sullivan [not represented this time …].

Finzi’s spare settings of Elegies by Scots poet William Drummond were followed by Maxwell Davies’s beautiful Lullabye for Lucy. Tavener’s poignant Song for Athene was superbly sung; a selection of Parry’s Songs of Farewell included Campion’s Never Weather-beaten Sail and Vaughan’s My Soul, There is a Country.

The only non-British, non-English work was Whitacre’s hauntingly beautiful Lux Aurumque.

The readings, by Martyn Richards, included Great War poems written by women – Aelfrida Tillyard’s rationing rhyme of 1916 a parody of the Marlowe – as well as Carol Ann Duffy’s Last Post, written to mark the death in 2009 of the last of the Tommies who fought in that war.

The Writtle Singers were conducted, and the pieces were introduced by Christine Gwynn, who can now look back on twenty years at the helm. The future looks bright, too, with no fewer than six new voices in the ranks this time out. This is, alas, my last review of this excellent village choir. I can look back even further to less certain times, and I look forward to hearing many more of these carefully curated concerts in All Saints’.

Their next is the always popular Carols by Candlelight on Wednesday December 13.

Last Post

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If poetry could tell it backwards, true, begin
that moment shrapnel scythed you to the stinking mud…
but you get up, amazed, watch bled bad blood
run upwards from the slime into its wounds;
see lines and lines of British boys rewind
back to their trenches, kiss the photographs from home-
mothers, sweethearts, sisters, younger brothers
not entering the story now
to die and die and die.
Dulce- No- Decorum- No- Pro patria mori.
You walk away.

You walk away; drop your gun (fixed bayonet)
like all your mates do too-
Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, Bert-
and light a cigarette.
There's coffee in the square,
warm French bread
and all those thousands dead
are shaking dried mud from their hair
and queuing up for home. Freshly alive,
a lad plays Tipperary to the crowd, released
from History; the glistening, healthy horses fit for heroes, kings.

You lean against a wall,
your several million lives still possible
and crammed with love, work, children, talent, English beer, good food.
You see the poet tuck away his pocket-book and smile.
If poetry could truly tell it backwards,
then it would.

TO THE FIELD OF STARS

Writtle Singers at All Saints' Church

20.11.16

The programming for this enterprising chamber choir has invariably been interesting and rewarding.

This concert, taking us from a damp Essex November to the heart of Spain, was affecting too, reminding us of a time when the church's rites alone held the keys to heaven, and pilgrimage was an obligation to which all aspired.

Luis de Victoria's Officium Defunctorum, based on the plainchant of the requiem mass, was given an atmospheric performance in the consecrated darkness of the church, the polyphony subtly underpinned by the cello of Alastair Morgan. The central Sanctus was especially moving.

The Singers, directed by Christine Gwynn, were joined by the cellist, and by Chris Brice and Nathan Gregory on a variety of bells, for Gabriel Jackson's To The Field Of Stars, commissioned to mark the 400^th anniversary of Victoria's death in 2011. Challenging for the choir, it blends ancient pilgrim hymns with settings of Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson – Miracles and Our Journey Has Advanced – as well as a prayer for travelling, a history lesson [spoken by bass Andrew Taylor] a murmured evocation of the stars, and at the last a glimpse of the glorious Basilica of Santiago, using an elaboration of the motet O Quam Gloriosum which opened the concert. 

An intriguing poetic reflection on pilgrimage and life's journeys, its elusive melodies and rich harmonies beautifully handled by the choir. Especially magical, suspending time for a moment, was the whispered litany of star names, decorated with tinkling bells and high cello melodies in a luminous evocation of Compostela, the Field of Stars.

Our journey had advanced —
Our feet were almost come
To that odd Fork in Being's Road —
Eternity — by Term —

Our pace took sudden awe —
Our feet — reluctant — led —
Before — were Cities — but Between —
The Forest of the Dead —

Retreat — was out of Hope —
Behind — a Sealed Route —
Eternity's White Flag — Before —
And God — at every Gate —

Emily Dickinson

pilgrim path photograph by Bishop Stephen Cotterell, who recently completed the Camino - his blog here

SOUNDS AND SWEET AIRS

SOUNDS  AND SWEET AIRS

Writtle Singers at All Saints' Church

16.07.16


Marking 400 years since Shakespeare's death, an enjoyably varied selection of choral works inspired by his words.
Beginning with a piece often heard on All Saints' aisle, Mendelssohn's Wedding March, in a witty, wordless arrangement by conductor Christine Gwynn.
More orchestral manoeuvres in Schubert's Sylvia, and plenty of opportunities to compare different settings of the same text: Come Away Death, for example, by way of Finland and New York, A Lover and His Lass from Shakespeare's time and our own – one of the Rutter Madrigals which ended the evening.
Even the Weird Sisters get a look in, their Double Double bubbling away in a dark, dramatic setting by Jaakko Mantyjarvi.
Local composers represented, too, with a richly traditional Winter Wind from Martin Taylor, and an inventive Sonnet 8 [Music to Hear] from Janet Wheeler, ending, sublimely, with a choral sigh.

SING FOR THE MORNING'S JOY

SING FOR THE MORNING'S JOY

Writtle Singers at All Saints Church

22.11.15

The title for this concert – and the first words we heard sung – is from Ursula Vaughan William's Hymn to St Cecilia, set by Herbert Howells. The hymn seemed ideally suited to the chamber choir, as was the same composer's Like As The Hart – a beautifully balanced sound.

November 22 is St Cecilia's Day – we heard the Britten/Auden Hymn here a couple of Novembers ago – and also the date of the first performance of Howells' “Take him, Earth, for cherishing”, a piece commissioned for the memorial service for John F Kennedy, assassinated exactly twelve months earlier. A dignified, deeply felt, expression of grief and loss, confidently tackled by the a cappella choir, augmented by the organist for the evening, Jonathan Dods, who gave us an agile Dialogue by Peter Hurford, as well as Howells' Master Tallis's Testament, a series of variations which grow in complexity and intensity, brilliantly performed on this modest instrument.

For the final work director Christine Gwynn chose Norman Caplin's Missa Omnium Sanctorum, a mass, lively and reverential by turns, written for All Saints' Margaret Street, with plenty of opportunity for solos and duets.

As ever, Writtle Singers excelled in celebration of the serendipitous and the lesser known, knowledgeably introduced and convincingly performed.

photograph of All Saints' St Margaret's Street by David Nicholls

WOMEN OF NOTE

WOMEN OF NOTE

Writtle Singers at All Saints' Church

18.07.15

Celebrating 100 years of the Women's Institute, this concert combined music by women composers [and others] with readings charting the history of the movement and celebrating some notable local ladies.

Bessie Blount, Beryl Platt and Margaret Anstee were joined by Writtle-born soprano April Cantelo and antipodean Dame Nellie Melba, who made radio history on “Two Emma Toc Writtle”.

Fanny Mendelssohn, sister of the more feted Felix, began the programme with two songs; Lili Boulanger's Soir sur la Plaine was followed by two charming piano duets by Cécile Chaminade, played by the Singers' director Christine Gwynn and their accompanist Caroline Finlay.

Four living composers were represented – Judith Weir's Love Bade Me Welcome, a lovely Upon Your Heart from Canadian Eleanor Daley, two pieces by choral conductor Janette Ruocco: a beautifully delicate Psalm 23 and a Shakespeare setting, with solos [for Puck and Oberon ?]. Ruocco joined us in the audience, as did Cecilia McDowell whose moving motet of Remembrance, Ave Maris Stella, originally commissioned by Portsmouth Grammar School, closed the first half.

A stirring Jerusalem, a cheeky Jericho and a political anthem set to Men of Harlech. To finish, two songs about women – enjoyable arrangements of Miss Otis and The Girl from Ipanema.

Lovely settings, lovingly performed, with Writtle's usual attention to detail both in interpretation and in programming: a worthy tribute to the WI, five of whose members were on hand to read the extracts.

MUSIC'S MEASURE

MUSIC'S MEASURE

Writtle Singers at All Saints' Church

22.11.2014

craftsman's art and music's measure
for thy pleasure
all combine

[Francis Pott – Angel voices]

Words and music carefully blended to mark the feast day of St Cecilia, patron saint of music and musicians.

The words came from Auden, once a friend and collaborator of Britten, and from Susan Tomes, who combines her career as a pianist with writing.

Sometimes the musician and the wordsmith were one and the same: William Byrd, whose Mass for Four Voices we heard, also wrote passionately urging everyone to take up singing - “It doth strengthen all parts of the brest, & doth open the pipes ...”. And Kodaly, an equally impassioned defender of music, was represented by Evening Song and Ode to Music – exquisitely sung by Writtle Singers directed by Christine Gwynn, with a wonderful wordless accompaniment under the melody.

The main work was JS Bach's Jesu Meine Freunde, an unaccompanied motet sung with a pure tone, precisely but eloquently phrased, with real dramatic power in the defiant “Trotz!” chorus.

Pour out your presence, O delight, cascading
The falls of the knee and the weirs of the spine,
Our climate of silence and doubt invading

[WH Auden – from “The Composer”]

stained glass image from Ohio:

http://stmaryshillsboro.diosohio.org/ST-CECILIA-WINDOW.html

HISPANIC TREASURES

HISPANIC TREASURES

Writtle Singers at All Saints' Church

29.03.2014

Yair Avidor with theorbo

A glorious programme of music from the Golden Age in Spain and Portugal, and the Latin American liturgical works which drew their inspiration from it.

Beginning with the culture clash – Victoria from the Spanish counter-reformation followed by an anonymous piece performed, impressively, in the original Inca language.

It was the meeting and melding of these two traditions which spawned the rich legacy of South American Catholic settings. Padilla's Mass, written for the cathedral at Puebla in “Nueva Espana”, is one famous example, and it formed the backbone of the second part of this concert, enriched and illuminated by other works of the period, both choral and instrumental: a lovely performance of Serafin by Joan Cererols and a showy Improvisation on Follias.

Our enjoyment was immeasurably enhanced by players from the authentic instrument group the Amphion Consort – viols, lute, theorbo and an array of percussion.

The music, sung with an impeccable sense of style, and a feel for the idiom and the rhythms of this fascinating repertoire, also featured some secular pieces, including a sparkling sequence by Juan del Encina. The Singers were conducted by Christine Gwynn, who devised and introduced the programme.

CANDLELIT CHRISTMAS CONCERT

CANDLELIT CHRISTMAS CONCERT
Writtle Singers at All Saints' Church

15.12.13

Under the real candles in the real chandelier, this enterprising chamber choir brought us seasonal delights from all over the world, as well as an opportunity to join their voices in perennial favourites like Holst's Rossetti setting, In The Bleak Midwinter.

Christine Gwynn conducted a bright, positive Adam Lay Ybounden to set the mood, then gentler sounds from Norway [an exquisite setting by Ola Gjeilo of A Spotless Rose], from the Basque Country [Javier Busto's Night Songs] and from Venezuela [the lovely Nino Lindo, beautifully sung].

My favourite pairing: The Huron Carol from Canada, and the Argentine For A World Without Faith, with its clever rhythmic effects. Both using the choral forces with inspired inventiveness.

The accompanist, Edward Wellman, played Blatchly's three charming Versets on Away In A Manger, after two brave youngsters joined the Singers for the Willcocks arrangement of the familiar carol.

And Martyn Richards' readings this year included Peter Howard's poem in which an ancient shepherd reminisces …

They say I'm old, that I should give up my flock,
stay back with the women in the warm.
They say the cold is bad for me, and hiking

over hills to find a lost sheep, sitting up
all night to nurse a lamb are young men's jobs.
When I tell my story, I see glances and disbelief.

Yet none would dare deny my flock's
the best-kept in the region, my memory
still sharp as winter wind. It was a night

much like this. We huddled round the fire,
and passed a cup for warmth. I was youngest.
Now the rest are gone, so when I die

there'll be no one to remember.
Each of us heard a voice that gave commands.
(Afterwards, we couldn't recall

what words were said, but all agreed
we had been instructed to go somewhere,
for a reason we didn't understand.)

While it spoke, Winter seemed
to withdraw, and it was Spring
(though still cold, dark, and wind blowing bitterly)

When the voice stopped, we didn't like to catch
our neighbour's eye: each thought
perhaps he should keep this to himself.

But there was a burst of light, that blinded us
as sunlight does when you
come out of a dark cave into the morning.

We had no doubt then, packed up our things,
and went, without much talking,
to where we had been directed.

At length, we stood, and saw. Just for a moment
it occurred to me that it was me that had been chosen
out of the whole world. Me, to stand here

and be a witness. Not kings, or lords or the village mayor,
but me. A warmth crept up like an August breeze,
or a woollen coat, or more like long thin fingers

trying to curl round me and drag me away.
Then it was gone, and I knew my thought
had been wrong, despicable. That is why

I'll tend my sheep, welcome the bitterest nights,
tell my story to anyone with half an ear,
and one day I will have atoned.

Writtle Singers are a friendly, ambitious group of musicians who care about what they do, and are ready for any challenge. In my experience, their concerts are invariably interesting, professionally performed and great fun.

In 2014 they will be looking to expand their ranks. If you are a musician [not necessarily a singer] who might enjoy working with them, doing something a little bit different, why not give them a try. You can contact them on info@writtlesingers.org or look at their Facebook page

https://www.facebook.com/groups/writtlesingers/

Remember, choral singing brings physical, psychological and social benefits hard to achieve by most other routes.

And it keeps dementia at bay …

http://science.howstuffworks.com/life/singing-happy1.htm

OPUS ANGLICANUM

OPUS ANGLICANUM – THE SONG OF ANGELS

at All Saints' Church, Writtle

18.05.13

How then can mortal tongue hope to express

The image of such endless perfectness?

This brand new sequence from Opus Anglicanum looked at those heavenly messengers, warriors, healers and guardians - the angels: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and a myriad others. 

The ethereal blend of five male voices, with readings from the King James Bible, Spencer, Eliot, Wesley and more, made a deeply spiritual experience.

The music included the Russian tradition, with its solemn, resonant cadences, as well as Gibbons, Victoria and Byrd. Much of it was based on plainchant, the standard unaccompanied melody of the liturgy, which seemed very much at home within these thirteenth century walls, the sounds these stones absorbed when they were newly laid.

The tale of Dunstan, Anglo-Saxon saint and confessor, visited by angel choirs in the Mendips, was followed by the Respond from his own Night Office.

But there was new music too, commissioned by Opus Anglicanum: Patrick Larley's Antiphon, setting words by George Herbert, and, the talk of the interval, Howard Skempton's amazing And There Was War In Heaven, of 2005, a meditative texture of drone and bells disturbed by conflict.

The final reading, a Celtic prayer - Lead thou me to the land of angels ... to the peace of heaven – was followed by a simple chant, May Angels Lead Thee To Paradise, to end a memorable programme, superbly devised and performed.

O world invisible, we view thee, 
O world intangible, we touch thee, 
O world unknowable, we know thee, 
Inapprehensible, we clutch thee! 
Does the fish soar to find the ocean, 
The eagle plunge to find the air-- 
That we ask of the stars in motion 
If they have rumor of thee there? 
Not where the wheeling systems darken, 
And our benumbed conceiving soars!-- 
The drift of pinions, would we hearken, 
Beats at our own clay-shuttered doors. 
The angels keep their ancient places-- 
Turn but a stone and start a wing! 
'Tis ye, 'tis your estrangèd faces, 
That miss the many-splendored thing. 
But (when so sad thou canst not sadder) 
Cry - and upon thy so sore loss 
Shall shine the traffic of Jacob's ladder 
Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross. 
Yea, in the night, my Soul, my daughter, 
Cry--clinging to Heaven by the hems; 
And lo, Christ walking on the water, 
Not of Genesareth, but Thames! 

In No Strange Land, Francis Thompson

title photograph: Hugh Homan

PARIS IN THE SPRING

PARIS IN THE SPRING

Writtle Singers in All Saints Church

17.03.13

In a typically meticulous programme, the Writtle Singers took us on an organ-stop tour of Paris churches.

Saint-Sulpice for Marcel Dupré, whose exquisite O Salutaris began the concert; round the corner to Sainte-Clotilde, and César Franck's familiar Panis Angelicus, with an impressive contribution from the men's voices. Still on the Left Bank, Saint Etienne du Mont for four plainsong motets by Duruflé, perhaps closest to the sound of the average French church choir.

Over the Seine to Notre Dame, for a miniature lullaby for the organ by Louis Vierne, played by the Singers' accompanist Simon Harvey. On Writtle's modest Johnson instrument, standing in this evening for nobler organs, he also gave us an arrangement of Fauré's Pavane. The same composer's Messe Basse, for upper voices, was given a touching, simple reading to end the first half.

After the interval [a very acceptable Corbières] some secular music – a light music madrigal from Fauré, a wicked gossip song from the Renaissance, and two charming traditional songs beautifully delivered by Elizabeth Tiplin. This mix of sacred and profane was an apt introduction to the Mass in G of Francis Poulenc, a challenging work sung unaccompanied, in a performance capably shaped by Christine Gwynn's direction, with a lively Gloria, richly textured Hosannas and an ethereal Agnus Dei to end.