The Renaissance Choir in Wells

The Renaissance Choir, Wells Cathedral, May 29

Not long after I bought my David Cassidy t-shirt ( ! ) I heard that one should never wear a t-shirt featuring anybody better looking than you. It was too late by then. Similarly nobody should perform in a venue they're not worthy of which is probably why I never read my poems in the Albert Hall. That, and the fact I was never asked. But you need to be pretty good to justify an appearance in Wells Cathedral. The Renaissance Choir didn't let it down and were well supported on the last leg of their short tour of Somerset.

The slow-moving calm of some choice Victoria and some more celebratory Palestrina led to Bogoroditse Dyevo, a reprise of one of last year's stand-out events, the Rachmaninov Vespers, and always likely to be a highlight as soon as the tenors turn on the turbo chargers and, to me at least, it sounds like we are forlorn and grief-stricken in our wilderness.

Director Peter Gambie introduced Rheinberger's Abendlied as an 'antidote to modern life' in his self-effacing way before it evoked a restful evening with its blend of voices. Peter has the confidence in his choir necessary to make his modest approach ironic. If you've much to be modest about it wouldn't work.

Orlando di Lasso re-echoed through the acoustic before the sopranos stretched it further in Great God of Love by Pearsall. 

It's possible that by putting myself away in a corner in order to annoy as few people as possible with my note-taking deprives me of hearing any such ensemble performance at its best. I was aware of a bass line by being sat right by where much of it was coming from. The sopranos were fine from across the other side but what I heard might not have been quite the same as what most people did. 

William Byrd is a choir speciality and it wouldn't have been right for them not to represent him on such an occasion in this anniversary year. We had too little of the best bits, really, in only 40 minutes. This was more of a taster session than any magnum opus but the Sanctus hung in the air beautifully if too briefly and in need of more to go with it but when they want me to programme their concerts for them, I'm sure they'll ask.

Eric Whitacre's Sleep made me write 'wall of sound' whether or not I'd been reading about Phil Spector recently but it sudsided to a minimal finale that might not have occured to him. This Marriage expressed some hope over expectation for those disciples of Diogenes amongst us before Hail Gladdening Light by Charles Wood filled Wells with top notes and a swelling sound to finish impressively.

 

For once, it might be suggested, less wasn't more. I was anything but disappointed having made the intrepid journey on public transport through deepest Somerset to see my friends in such magnificent surroundings. Wells Cathedral was an ambition achieved in itself and is a masterpiece that will stay with me. To be able to get there, on the very limits of my orbit, to hear The Renaissance Choir in it only multiplied the thrill. There must be good reasons why no more than 40 minutes were possible but, without knowing them, an hour wouldn't have hurt.

In my own, much more justifiable way, I like to play down any claims to being a reviewer, still less a 'critic', which is not a pleasant sounding thing to be. These things I write are brief essays prompted by having attended. Among many great memories will be being invited to take tea with members of the choir as I passed the cafe where they'd ordered their lunch afterwards, which was a privilege for me but half an hour of their lives they'll never get back.