Monthly Archives: December 2011

by

Advent Calendar Day 15 – Ev’ry Valley (Handel)

You knew I’d sneak some Ian Bostridge in here somewhere, right? And what could be better than a little more Messiah?

The text of this piece is read at every Advent Carol service I’ve been to – it’s another prepare ye the way of the Lord text (and now I have the Godspell version in my head), though I think it’s actually from Isaiah and not from the New Testament at all.

Look, in all honesty, I feel silly talking about the significance of this piece of music here – it really is, I think, a piece that needs no introduction, except, perhaps, to say that it is one of those pieces of music that really makes Advent for me, and is in my head during most of December. Indeed, I believe it was the inspiration for last year’s Advent Calendar, because we missed out on hearing it at last year’s service. And then my friend Lea pointed me at this recording by Ian Bostridge, and I loved it, and thus my first big opera crush was born. He truly has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard. I hope you love this recording as much as I do.

(NB: You need to listen to both parts of it together – they are part of the same piece, but some obnoxious person has put an ad at the start of Ev’ry Valley, which is a terrible shame. I wish I could find a version where they didn’t, but I can’t.)

Edited December: Alas, Ian Bostridge’s ‘Comfort Ye’ can no longer be found on YouTube.  But his Ev’ry Valley is still magnificent.

by

Advent Calendar Day 14 – The Angel Gabriel from Heaven Came (Trad. Basque)

My little work choir had its first performance today (I’m so very proud of them!), so I’m beginning to feel as though Christmas can’t be far away… time to sneak in a Christmas carol or two, albeit a fairly Adventy one.

The school I went to for late primary had a daily assembly with hymns. If you had been good, you got to pick the hymn for the day. In retrospect, some of the choices were a little odd – one friend always picked ‘Glad that I live am I’, because it was really short. I liked ‘I Vow To Thee, My Country’, because I was really into Rosemary Sutcliff and then the English Civil War, and the whole romantic patriotism thing. We would have Christmas Carols in September or April, and Easter songs in November. We especially liked the one about Mary Magdalene washing the feet of the Lord with her hair. And another very popular choice at any time was Gabriel’s Message, also known as ‘The Angel Gabriel From Heaven Came’. Why? Because you could sing ‘most highly flavoured lady’ at the end of each verse and the teachers wouldn’t notice and we thought this was hilarious. It just got funnier with every verse, I tell you.

(in retrospect, it seems likely that the teachers did notice and just didn’t feel it was worth the argument. Given all the giggling going on, they must surely have known we were up to something.)

(in later years, we liked to sing ‘who knows the swell of the glamourous belle’ instead of the clamorous bell in our school song, because we thought this was terribly risqué. Trust me, the song had it coming.)

So this is a bit of a nostalgia piece for me, though now I’m not ten any more I actually like it because it has a pretty tune. The group performing are just lovely – I hadn’t heard them before, and I hadn’t heard this arrangement, but I am very fond of close harmonies, and they execute them perfectly. Also, they look like they are having fun, which is always a bonus.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHuokdjT4UY&w=560&h=315]

by

Advent Calendar Day 13 – The Cherry Tree Carol

I promised yesterday that I would show you today some of what happens when people go to church every week but aren’t allowed to sing and don’t understand the language. The short version is, they make things up! In fact, as our choir director is fond of telling us, most Christmas carols were made up by non-clerical types, which is why their theology is occasionally a little on the dodgy side.

Today’s carol, then, is a version of The Cherry Tree Carol, which originated in the Middle Ages, and has dozens of different versions, some of which can be found in Child’s Ballads and others in the Oxford Carol book. They all have different words, some of which go all the way from Mary’s pregnancy to the child Jesus predicting his life and his death on the cross, and they have different tunes. None of them are very flattering to Joseph (except for the Willcocks version, and that is because he cheated and changed the words).

I remember being told when I was in Europe a few years ago that there are very few churches of St Joseph around the place, because he is seen (rather unfairly) as a cuckold. This carol clearly springs from the same kind of thinking, as Joesph is much older than Mary, and when she asks him to pick her some cherries he retorts that she should get the person who got her pregnant to pick cherries for her. The cherry tree then spontaneously bows down – sometimes at the command of Jesus in Mary’s womb – so that she can pluck the cherries for herself, and Mary is vindicated.

It’s really hard to find the right version for this calendar (by rights there should be a Mediaeval Baebes version – this is just their style, I should think – but no such luck yet). The Willcocks has more of the sound I want, but the whitewashing of Joseph irritates me (I hasten to say that I have nothing against Joseph himself, but I do think one should preserve the meaning of the carol). And while I love folk songs, they don’t seem to quite fit, here. On the other hand… the whole point of including this carol is that it was a story and song made up and passed along by the general public, no church involved. So I’m going to just link to the churchy Willcocks version and instead share the traditional folk song version, which I do think is sung very beautifully here.

Enjoy.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lhnNmVQ0VQ&w=560&h=315]

by

Advent Calendar Day 12 – Alma Redemptoris Mater (Victoria)

A little polyphony to start your week… and yes, it’s more Mary stuff. I don’t have much to say about this piece of music except that I find it beautiful. I can tell you that Victoria was a late 16th – early 17th century Spanish composer, and that the text is that of a hymn for Mary that is generally used in Advent (see what I did there?), but really, I chose this because I loved listening to it.

And, actually, that’s at least somewhat appropriate for this style of music. The thing with polyphony is that even if you are fluent in the language it is being sung in, it’s not generally easy to pick out meaning from the words when everyone is singing different things at different times, and composers of this era, being smart cookies, were well aware of this. Add to this an era when, perhaps, relatively few of the people listening to church music could understand Latin anyway and you get a whole lot of church music which is intended to aid contemplation and prayer rather than teach or provide meaning. (Tomorrow, we shall see some of the other things that happen, musically speaking, when the the congregation cannot, on the whole, understand the language of the church…)

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxNOvhe1r_4&w=560&h=315]

by

Advent Calendar Day 11 – Wachet Auf! (J.S. Bach)

My friend Anna tells me that Wachet Auf is to German Advent music what Handel’s Messiah is to Advent music in the English speaking world – namely, ubiquitous! Bach just loved this particular melody, and used it as often as he could – at least three times that I know of. Our music director, Geoff, did the organ solo version of it a few weeks ago, and there’s a straightforward choral hymn version of it, and then there’s this one, which is a slow day for the sopranos and a mad fugal party for everyone else. We did this one year, and if I recall correctly, not only did Geoff end the service with the organ version, the minister also put Zion Hears The Watchmen’s Voices as one of the congregational hymns, just in case anyone in the congregation hadn’t got the point yet.

I actually included a version of the chorale in last year’s Advent Calendar, but unfortunately could only find a beautifully sung but painfully slow version of the piece. Fortunately, in the intervening months, the JS Bach foundation has put up another recording, and it’s brilliant – lively and vigorous and that orchestra is phenomenal. And it’s shown me something I didn’t know about this piece of music, too, which is always a bonus. You see, I always thought of it as the sopranos singing the melody (very sloooowly) while the rest of the parts did the interesting stuff below. And from an alto perspective (I am sadly not very good at looking outside such a perspective), that’s exactly what’s going on.

Hearing the piece with full orchestra, and particularly hearing this recording, however, gives me a different perspective. My first thought was that the altos weren’t loud enough (a thought I have often when listening to choral music, see aforementioned remarks about the alto perspective). But actually, what is going on is that the piece is a great big soprano solo, and the altos, tenors and basses are part of the orchestral accompaniment. They aren’t supposed to be in the foreground, really, any more than the violins are – which is to say, they all have their moments of standing out (the alto line in the alleluia, for example), but basically, they are the accompaniment. Which is still having more fun than the sopranos, but hey, that’s how it goes sometimes…

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lz0FmmNrTck&w=560&h=315]

Ad hoc translation from my dimly recalled German is as follows:

The watchers high on the roof call us “Wake up! Wake up, city of Jerusalem, for this is midnight!” They call us with bright voices “Where are the wise virgins? The bridegroom is coming, get up and take your lamps, Halleluja! Prepare for the wedding feast – you must go to him.

by

Advent Calendar Day 10 – Christus Factus Est Pro Nobis (Bruckner)

Having sung Bruckner for the first time this year, I knew that I had to find some way to shoehorn him into my Advent Calendar! He’s another of the romantic composers, and his harmonies are so deliciously lush, and every line gets the most beautiful melodies. Also, I’ve decided that he is great-great-uncle Bruckner, because my great grandmother was a Brukner and from Vienna and a singer, and really, how many professional-level musician Bru(c)kners could really have been wandering around Vienna in the late 19th – early 20th century anyway? He must be some kind of relative.

(of course, I wouldn’t be saying that if my great-grandmother’s surname had been Rutter)

Anyway, the tricky part here was finding something Advent appropriate. I did find Virga Jesse Floruit, which is pretty much a Christmas anthem (and I certainly recommend it to your attention if you listen to this one and need more Bruckner afterward), and quite appropriate, but it didn’t quite speak to me. But then YouTube led me to this one, and it turns out that I *had* in fact sung Bruckner before and had inexplicably failed to notice that he was my cousin. This anthem is really intended for Lent (being about how Christ was obedient even unto death on the cross for us, and for this reason his name is above all other names), but I have it on excellent authority that Lenten texts can be appropriate for Advent, this being a season of fasting and reflection too.

And to be honest, having heard this anthem again, there was no way I wasn’t going to include it, because it is Cousin Anton (I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me calling him that) at his best. It’s dramatic and lyrical and exciting to sing and has some absolutely heart-stopping moments (and in the alto line, too!) – I love that bit right at the end after the huge climactic chords when the parts come back in one by one on the ‘qui est super…’ – it sends shivers down my spine.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6fAT3iGRWc&w=560&h=315]

by

Advent Calendar Day 9 – The Angelus

After yesterday’s rather insane Handel, I thought we needed a palate-cleanser. So this is a very simple, quiet piece of music – a choir of religious sisters singing the Angelus. The woman leading the chant has a truly lovely voice – very clear and pure and sweet, and very appropriate for this style of music. This style of music is much earlier than the other things I’ve posted here – Wikipedia (which is, of course, infallible) tells me that plainsong dates back to the 4th century AD, and started getting written down in the 6th and 7th century, under Pope Gregory (hence Gregorian chant). It doesn’t have a discernable beat or barlines, but the phrasing doesn’t entirely follow speech rhythms (as in Anglican chant) either. It just flows onward in its own time until it’s done.

I’m not sure if this particular piece of chant dates back that far, or whether it’s a modern piece that leans on the old style (i suspect the latter, because most of the Gregorian chant I’ve heard is a lot more complex than this), but it’s very pretty and peaceful either way.

While the text is generally sung as one of the monastic Hours, I think it is also appropriate for Advent, being another text about the angel Gabriel and Mary. But mostly I’ve chosen it for its peacefulness.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UuQQWzDAJHg&w=560&h=315]

by

Advent Calendar Day 7 – Let all mortal flesh keep silence (Bairstow)

There’s just something about these particular lyrics that bring out the best in composers. I’ve sung, I think, three versions of them (including the hymn), and they are all gorgeous. This one, by Bairstow, is very lush and an absolute joy to sing. It sits in all the very best parts of the voice, and the lyrics are set beautifully, though in a very different way to the way Gibbons does it. Bairstow doesn’t follow the inflections of speech, but he captures mood very effectively and gives you just the sort of notes and tempo you want to sing for those particular words. This is the Romantic style of classical music, which I don’t always care for (early music is much more fun for the alto, and I am very biased in that direction – though having said that, Bairstow does seem to appreciate us too). It’s all about emotion and mood and lots and lots of hairpins (or sausages, as another choir director I worked with liked to call them) – that is to say, phrases which crescendo and then decrescendo (get louder and then softer).

Also, who wouldn’t love a piece where you get to sing about ‘the cherubim with many eyes’. This always reminds me of Madeleine L’Engle, which is definitely a bonus.

I don’t remember if we’ve ever sung this piece in Advent, but to me the text seems to capture the mood of the season very well – let all mortal flesh keep silent… for the King of King and Lord of Lords cometh forth… with lots and lots of cherubim, WITH MANY EYES, hooray!

(why yes, that was a paraphrase)

(not the bit about the many eyes, though.  That’s right there in the lyrics.)

But really, this sort of music needs no excuse.

by

Advent Calendar Day 6 – Lullay My Liking (Trad.)

Today’s piece is what happens when I go looking for the version of ‘I saw a maiden’ that we sing in my work Christmas choir and find every other setting of that carol, ever, but not the one I’m looking for.

I haven’t heard this one before, but it’s staying in my head. The recording is from 1948, and the singers are Isobel Baillie, Gladys Ripley, John McHugh and Harold Williams. The style of singing is one I think of as slightly old-fashioned (I think they teach singers to use less vibrato these days? There is certainly something characteristic about the vocal style that sounds to me like an older generation.

My great-grandmother was a singer of this generation (I have a photo of her dressed as Cherubino – the one in the header of this blog, in fact – which suggests that her vocal range was similar to mine), and sang on the radio in Austria in, I think, the 1930s. I don’t think I ever heard her sing, but I’m constantly fascinated by the idea of another semi-professional singer in the family. I can’t help wondering if she sounded a bit like Isobel Baillie…

Perhaps it’s the elusive family history aspect, but this is another piece that appeals to me for the sense of history and continuity over time. I love the feel of these old recordings, and of course the words themselves are far older, and date to the middle ages.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUpPWGIdBf4&w=560&h=315]

by

Advent Calendar Day 5 – The Record of John (Gibbons)

In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. We have to have The Record of John now.

Sorry, sudden attack of Pride and Prejudice there.  Put it down to severe lack of sleep and far, far, too much time spent making confectionery this weekend.

But the other thing I did this weekend was attend (and of course sing in) our Advent Service, which was this evening.  Every year, we do a service of readings and carols.  We always do some new pieces – this year, we did some lovely, medieval-sounding polyphony by Heinrich Isaacs and some truly demented Palestrina, as well as Es Ist Ein Rös Entsprungen – but there are some we do every year.  The Matin Responsory.  Adam Lay Y Bounden.  The Record of John, by Orlando Gibbons (also known as my big Elizabethan crush).

(Incidentally, the other highlight of the Advent service is sitting there during the readings and mentally singing along with the reader.  “For unto us a son is born,” says Isaiah, and I’m in Handel-land.  “Make straight in the desert a highway,” and there’s John’s tenor solo.  Actually, currently it all seems to be Handel, but I know there were other composers in my head too.)

I posted this in the Advent Calendar last year, but I feel no hesitation in posting it again now, because for me, Advent starts on a Thursday in late November when Geoff starts playing the accompaniment, generally without warning, and I come in on the alto solo: This is the record of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites to Jerusalem, to Jerusalem, to ask him, “Who art thou?” And he confessed and denied not, and said plainly, I am not the Christ.

The specific part where Advent begins is on “And he confessed and denied not’.  There’s something about the way the accompaniment and the voice combine there that affects me on a visceral level.  Suddenly, everything is just right (until we get into the chorus and I screw up my section because I’ve forgotten what the other alto part is doing).  And then there’s the part: And he said, I am the voice of him that crieth in the wilderness “Make straight the way of the Lord,” which just sends shivers down my spine whenever I sing it.  It’s something in the writing, I think, because it’s on the same bar every time, and for just a few moments right there I can’t help believing absolutely in what I’m singing. Belief of this kind (of any kind, really) doesn’t come easily to me.

I do think this is down to Gibbons’ writing, and his exceptional way with setting lyrics.  I’ve mentioned before his habit of setting the lyrics so that they follow the inflections of speech, and this does something – I don’t know what, exactly – to enhance the emotion in the music.

Basically, it’s a perfect, perfect piece of music.  It’s in my head now, and will be all the way until Christmas.

It might as well be in yours, too.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9pE5vrgBHQ&w=560&h=315]