Triumphs of the blessed

I was going to take this quote from Handel’s Theodora, “Pity suing / Mercy wooing” but Triumphs… seemed to fit. When I checked the libretto I found it’s actually “Triumph o’er her boasted chastity” but I’ll use Triumphs … anyway. I like it.

We saw a performance of Handel’s Theodora by the Canberra Choral Society with various guests and with period instruments. It’s dignified and neat and even touching later in the work, when the Theodora and Didymus, the Christian couple, are sentenced to death by Valens, President of Antioch. Didymus is a Roman soldier who’s fought with friend Septimius, but he’s fallen for the beauty of Theodora and converted for her purity. Valens has declared that all citizens should offer sacrifice to some Roman goddesses to honour Diocletian's birthday. Theodora refuses and is sentenced to a brothel. Didymus goes to Theodora and allows her to escape in his uniform and helmet. Didymus is sentenced to death. Theodora returns, they each offer their own death to save the other and of course they are both sentenced. It’s all strange classical stories which mean so little to us these days and stories of saints and worthy Christians suffering at the hands of heathens and that goes over my head. This performance was a one-off. It felt it started a bit unsteadily, although it was comfortable by the end. The voices were very satisfying, and I could follow most of the story other than Theodora’s words. Soprano training is like that and it’s a weakness when there’s a story like this to follow. I loved the CCS when they sang, all rich and full and smooth, but they were the Christian chorus, after all. Kampactus was the chorus of heathens who chuckled at the promised rape of the pure Theodora and they seemed to have some more intricate lines to sing. I lost a few. I also didn’t particularly notice the period instruments other than the baroque oboe and harpsichord and chamber organ. I assume the strings were gut and perhaps the violins were milder, but I didn’t find it particularly noticeable. I particularly watched cello and bass, partly for the different physical approaches to the instruments: cello is more lightly strung and Anthea attacked it with raised fingers; Helen on double bass was smoother and seemed to be natively conserving her strength given its heftier demands. I admired both their playing. The whole ensemble was warmed up by the end and the end also has some of the best music: the final duo of the lovers and a choral segment that finishes it off. A worthy and satisfying finale.

The musicians did a great job, even if I would have preferred to hear it after half-a-dozen more performances. Oh, and the audience sang. CCS apparently has a habit of introducing singalongs. This time is was three lines of a hymn over four bars that were repeated. The words and music were in the program; the lights came up, we stood and sang, everyone smiled, and we sat down. Nice twist and nice work.

Handel’s Theodora was performed at the Playhouse by Canberra Choral Society with Brett Weymark (conductor), Greta Bradman (Theodora), Tobias Cole (Didymus), Christina Wilson (Irene), Paul McMahon (Septimius), Stephen Barnett (Valens), Kompactus Choir (Heathen chorus), Canberra Choral Society Chorus (Christian chorus) and Evan Kirby (messenger). The ensemble on baroque instruments were Bianca Porcheddu (violin, leader), Lorraine Moxey (violin), Heather Lloyd (viola), Anthea Cottee (continuo cello), Helen Cosgrove (double bass), Kirsten Barry (oboe), Peter Young (chamber organ), James Huntingford (harpsichord).

Closest to Bach

It felt like the closest that I’ve got to JS Bach when we heard the St Matthew Passion last night. It was performed by the Llewellyn Choir accompanied by the Llewellyn Sinfonia and conducted by Rowan Harvey-Martin at the Canberra Girls’Grammar School hall. Why the closest? I think because it’s storytelling in German. The music remains glorious, but the essence is the story, recited in German by the Evangelist and sung in person by several solo singers and the choir as the People. The words are the essence. It was likely first performed in Thomaskirke, where Bach worked at providing music each week, on Good Friday in 1727. This was work for Bach but it was work of a believer for presentation to other believers. It’s a Passion, a reciting of Christ’s suffering on the cross, the essence of the Christian story. And from my reading of dictionary.com and the Shorter Oxford, this is the origin, from Middle English and mediaeval Latin, of our common word, passion.

It’s a long work, written for soloists, double choir and double orchestra. It was to be performed in two halves, before and after the sermon on Good Friday. The score is further divided into three parts: a narrative using biblical text; various recicatives, arias and choruses; and the chorales. It’s music that is subject to the story and the demands of the people, the claps of thunder, sadness or fear or rejections of the apostles are all expressed clearly. I revelled in the big chorale sections and loved the several returns of the main choral theme, sometimes slower, sometimes livelier, usually with varying words. I enjoyed the dignified Evangelist as he told his story that I wished I could understand without looking at a projected translation, I loved the instrumental accompaniments with the solo singers: violin, cello, organ (I think this is the same chamber organ used by Igitur Nos last week), harpsichord, flutes or oboes. I enjoyed the autal and contrapuntal movements left to right of the choirs and also the orchestras. And it’s an impressive theatre. It looks to be carefully set up for sound, although perhaps for a bigger rather than a precise sound. And it’s pleasantly human in dimensions; it has a massive stage but you still feel close. (Too bad about the noisy aircon). From the orchestra, I particularly noticed the clarity of the two single basses, and that glorious little but persistent organ sound. This music is dignified and ordered, but more than instrumental Bach, it is subordinate to words. A stunning piece of beauty well performed. Congratulations to all involved.

The Llewellyn Choir and Llewellyn Sinfonia performed JS Bach’s St Matthew Passion at the Canberra Girls’Grammar School hall. Key performers were Rowan Harvey-Martin (conductor), Michael Martin (Evangelist, tenor), Stephen Barnett (Jesus, bass), Rebecca Collins (soprano), Christina Wilson (contralto), Rohan Thatcher (bass).

It must be Christmas

Sally observed it wasn’t jazz, but Handel’s Messiah well deserves a post on CJ. The Canberra Choral Society performed it again this year at St Christopher’s Cathedral, the cream brick Catholic cathedral at Manuka. We went to the first of two performances and it was an immensely satisfying experience. The Cathedral is not my favourite building around town, the acoustics were heavy with reverb that made for a loud but somewhat mushy sound and there was frequent traffic noise and Harley splutter outside on Canberra Avenue, but nonetheless this was a treat. It was the long performance with the full 3 Acts, verging on 3 hours with the interval. I thought this was a daring choice and all praise is due. This was my first Messiah (a late starter) but I was glad to hear one where the three parts, dealing with the Birth, Passion and Aftermath, were present, and the familiar arias and the exultant Hallelujah Chorus were in their right places. It was long but the time passed like a breeze. I was impressed by the stamina of both performance and audience. Pews are not the most comfy places to spend three hours, and I noticed the audience stirring but it was uncomplaining and stood for the famed Hallelujah Chorus, as people apparently have since King George 2. I expected that we would be too casual for that these days, but no. It was a pleasant surprise. And the applause was deafening at the end, so the effort was much appreciated.

It was a small orchestra with a light presence that was sometimes overshadowed when the voices took flight. But it had a lovely courtly baroque tone that benefited from the reverb. Clear, fat trumpet ringing through (beautifully resonant and very different from a jazz trumpet tone), bassoon or oboe evident at other times, the strings fairly restrained with 7 violins, 2 violas, 2 cellos and a double bass. Organ and a harpsichord that presumably played the original basso continuo part. The choir was 21 sopranos, 30 altos, 10 tenors, 14 basses and there were arias and recitatives for SATB - Rebecca Collins (soprano), Christina Wilson (mezzosoprano), Christopher Saunders (tenor) and Stephen Barnett (bass) - and the whole was directed and conducted by Peter Pocock.

What glorious, exultant, dignified, elegant, rational music it is! Lines echoed by passing between voices and on to instruments; big and joyous interval jumps, and shapely lines. Apparently Handel is famous for word-painting where the melody mimics the meaning of the lyrics, so lines rise to mountains and fall to valleys, and “crooked” alternates crookedly between B and C#. I heard a unison bass and bassoon line that surprised and amused me. But always the neat cadences to confirm dignity at the end of scenes. I enjoyed it immensely, and the final applause was long and enthusiastic, seemingly beyond the expectations by the performers. In the end, I felt the words were strangely other-worldly (no-one much chats about exalted valleys, easy yokes or feeding flocks these days or even walking in darkness) but the rational baroque music fits well enough with modern rationality in architecture and politics and economics. We left with high spirits and much joy to take on the Christmas season. Truly a fabulous outing, so thanks in spades to my neighbour Trish and the rest of the performers. BTW, ArtSound were recording the Saturday night performance, so keep you ears tuned for the replay.