Southern Counter-Tenors

Southern Counter-Tenors, Portsmouth Cathedral, June 23.

It said in the Times on Saturday that the countertenor was a difficult sell, an acquired taste or a minority interest, I forget exactly what it said. I wouldn't have thought so but I'm sure there are record sales figures to prove it. Certainly record companies seem keen to market their respective assemblages of young tenors, dressed to impress but with their bow ties studiously undone as if they're on their way home from a bit of a shindig.

The Southern Counter-Tenors, 'back by popular demand' at the Portsmouth Festivities, are a valiant reply to such tenor dominance. They put on another very varied programme as the midsummer darkness gathered around St. Thomas's Cathedral. The duets were among several highlights. It's probably fair to say that Jason Stanbridge-Howard and Nick Pepin (whose picture I've lifted from elsewhere to here) are the star names and they opened with Purcell's Sound the Trumpet, a glorious baroque masterpiece which sadly was the only time we saw Hattie McCall Davies providing cello accompaniment. If there's one thing I enjoy more than a countertenor, it's a cello. This was immediately followed by a contrasting but very effective Missa Deus Genitor Alme with the singers hidden in the depths of the cathedral making a tremendously evocative and well-modulated sound.
A small ensemble setting of the Mozart Ave Verum Corpus caught the mood beautifully, Tom Watts provided my old favourite from third form Music, Where'er You Walk before a Bach duet. Jason's solo, Dvorak's Wen de Dich zu mir, was forlorn and wintry before apparently ending on a warmer note but even more ambitious, and perhaps the top highlight, was the Variations on Veni Creator by Durufle and it won't be often that I put Durufle top of any list of preferences. The singers were spread throughout the floor, and above it, their plainsong punctuating the organ passages to show off
the acoustics of the place, the fine sound the blended voices make and one of the more fulfilling of Durufle's works, which I believe extend only to Opus 11.
The later part of the programme relaxed into more comedic, easier listening with Flanders and Swann, a poem celebrating the Magna Carta in droll fashion and Jason made some early forays into camp theatrics which were to be more fully realized not much later.
As I believe they did last year, the group ended with the Clark arrangement of the Tallis Canon, a lively tintinabulation and sharing of parts, one of the pieces in which Alastair Hume, co-founder of the King's Singers, took part. It was a memorable and fine ending before the deserved encore, a semi-staged performance of the Meow Song which finally allowed Mr. Stanbridge-Howard the opportunity he had probably been waiting for all night to camp it up more than most Cathedrals (even including Catholic ones at High Mass) are usually witness to. I am no great authority on matters ecclesiastical but I don't believe that even the Pope disports himself in a pink boa very often. Not in public, anyway. If one had to find fault- and I don't really want to- one might say that the programme's variety was stretched plenty far enough. Speaking personally as a devout atheist fan of devotional church music, I'd have been happy with the baroque, the plainsong and the glory of the countertenor voice but it is the Festivities after all, and boys will be boys and must have their fun.

Southern Countertenors

Southern Countertenors, Extravaganza, Portsmouth Cathedral, June 25th

It was worth waiting until 9 p.m. before starting as the evening gathered around the cathedral, the candles grew in power inside it and the sound of the eight gathered singers filled the space with their glorious sound.
The light creates various effects on the interior, not least the angle of the last light casting colours from the stained glass in the north window onto the stone around it. It was beautiful but you had to be quick to catch it because five minutes later it was gone.
In the introduction we were told that the idea for this new venture came from a group watching You Tube and finding the Hawaiian Falsetto Festival (with which I'm sure we are all familiar), and James Bowman, the doyen of English countertenors, agreed to join seven of his juniors in this programme, developed by Jason Stanbridge-Howard.
The opening piece was the first of those from the Missa de Angelis, in which the singers were positioned in different parts on the cathedral and none at first were actually on stage. It is hardly a new device but it is always a good one. As ever the acoustics of Portsmouth Cathedral were
awful to hear anyone speaking but great for the soaring voices. James Bowman remains in fine form but this was as much a showcase for the coming generation of aspirant Scholls, Jarousskys and Cencics and, without wanting to show particular favour to any among a fine set of voices or deride any of them, I think it might be Paul du Plessis-Smith and Jason that have the most potential on this showing.
The programme was an hour of varied ensemble and solo singing, with duets, pieces in several parts and, of course all eight together, the finale being a fine new arrangement of the Tallis Canon by June Clark who was there to take a bow. But although we had Purcell, Palestrina and, most notably the Missa de Angelis, there was also the drawing room piece Shenandoah and the novelty of The Slow Train by Flanders and Swann but it was all fit to exploit the high ceiling and give these great voices the opportunity to demonstrate their full nuance and power.
Reviewing a concert like this is something of a fool's errand as if words can describe how a diamond shines or ever hope to communicate a starry night but one thing to reflect upon in coming away was the difference between the spacious arrangement of the Mass with the closer harmonies and more intricate arrangement of pieces like the Palestrina in which by all means the top line is the bright, celestial focus of attention but there is much to be enjoyed in the intricacies and interweaving in the other lines, too.
I left happily with the Tallis echoing in my memory, walking to the bus stop past the open upstairs window of some university accommodation where they were having a good time to the tremendous sound of Levi Stubbs of the Four Tops belting out I Can't Help Myself and music is indeed a wide church. There wasn't going to be a bus for quite some time and so I walked home through the cooling streets of a Portsmouth summer evening and was only approached by one drunk. Wednesday nights aren't what they used to be round here.
It was a shame to see that the Andrew Motion event had to be cancelled and one hopes that nothing is amiss but, otherwise, hurray for the Portsmouth Festivities programme providing such choice performances. It is going to be a very difficult choice, come the winter time, for me to nominate which was the best event I attended this year. The Southern Countertenors ft. James Bowman is another for my ever expanding short list.

The Tallis Scholars

 The Tallis Scholars, Portsmouth Cathedral, June 20th

The last time I saw the Tallis Scholars and reviewed them here I had the temerity to suggest that perfection was no longer enough. There was a time, perhaps twenty years ago when I'd have given anything to see them but now I've seen them a few times, I'm a bit blase about it. By all means if they're in town, I'll go but I'm almost doing them a favour.
I'd like to recant on any such idea immediately if I may.
It is wonderful how many stars these days are prepared to meet their public and engage with them. I know they are promoting themselves but many do seem to genuinely enjoy giving a bit extra. Peter Phillips appeared in a pre-concert event to talk and answer questions for 45 minutes. He was born very much in the neighbourhood into a non-musical family. And on the evidence grew up to be a charming man. Most amazingly, his interest in music came from records like the Cambridge University Willcocks recording of Spem in Alium, not from any nurturing or fostering by a well-meaning teacher or family, and somehow, all these years later, he is pre-eminent in the field.
His aim is to produce the immaculate tone and blend that have made The Tallis Scholars outstanding at what they do over the last 40 years and there is no way of telling if the sound they make is anything like that which Tallis and Byrd would have heard. His guess is that contemporary performances would have been more private and probably quieter. And those 45 minutes were an invaluable introduction to the performance.
He did express his own doubts about their efforts to fill larger concert halls with sound with such small, unamplified resources. The Albert Hall holds 7000. I said I'd been at the Prom a few years ago when they had done the Striggio and it was fine, it was okay. And a lady in the audience asked 'only okay?'
(Yes, madam, that's right, I said it was 'okay'. I entirely take Peter's point that his group might be better suited to more intimate venues. And if you want to write in and debate it then I'll be more than happy to publish our exchanges here rather than provide gushing endorsements to our heroes when they don't necessarily apply. There are more than enough opportunities to enthuse about stuff without making it compulsory.  (I'm sorry about that.))
The highlights of the first half were Arvo Part's The Woman with the Alabaster Box and Mouton's Quis dabit oculis, which was remeniscent for me of the plaintive lament on the death of Ockeghem by Josquin and needs investigating as soon as I've rushed these notes out to the world.
There were pieces by Victoria, extracts from the Missa Batalla of Guerrero, the great master Josquin himself, Palestrina who belongs in the same bracket and almost inevitably outstanding in the second half was John Tavener's Song for Athene which I don't even feel qualified at the moment to find an adjective for.
The programme included several different combinations of the five sets of two voices. The top line is always likely to be most memorable for its use of the cathedral's acoustic but especial mention for me needs to be made of the counter-tenor in the Mouton, Patrick Craig, as well as the basses in the Tavener. But it is very much an ensemble performance and no part would amount to as much without the excellence of the rest of it. Peter Phillips doesn't believe in auditions- they can all do that; he needs a bit more convincing than that before you can join his liitle choir.
I don't know if I've ever seen a musical act while they were number one in the charts. Possibly the Boomtown Rats. But the Tallis Scholars' website says today that their latest release has been number one in the Classical Chart for six weeks. And Peter Phillips made no secret of the financial considerations involved in touring, performing or being prepared to sign a copy of his book (which cost 25 pounds) for you or direct you to the CD stall. I've never quite been able to line up the most sublime art with commercial expediency but it pertains to these fine people just as it does to Simon Cowell's latest generic pop singer. But at least they're honest about it.
I will never doubt them again. I didn't actually doubt them, I just took them a bit for granted. I won't be doing that either.
Fine, gorgeous, immaculate and forever.

Brodsky Quartet

The Brodsky Quartet, Portsmouth Cathedral, June 22

That the Portsmouth Festivities can only provide an act like the Brodskys with an audience of about 60 is to be regretted. But if quality is any recompense for a paucity of paying listeners, there was enough appreciation in the ovation to make it very worth their visit.
The programme they offer is their Wheel of 4tunes, a disc divided into four concentric circles representing the four pieces they will play and each of them divided into ten equal sections for the pieces available. A guest spins the wheel for each selection and the schedule is thus produced.
Piazzola is something I can usually take or leave but as a lively opener Four for Tango served a purpose. It uses more than bowing techniques in getting sound out of the instruments. As in the picture here, the violins and viola stand and that certainly seems to help with Daniel Rowland, who had the better of the lead violin parts on this occasion at least, being expressively mobile at times throughout.
The Britten  Quartet no.3, a late piece and something of a swansong, seemed to benefit from the slightly echoing acoustic of the Cathedral with its harmonics sustained. The third movement kept Rowland high up on his fretboard to glorious effect and this would have been a perfectly acceptable highlight worthy of turning up for had the second half not, luckily for us, begun with the wheel landing on Tenebrae by Osvaldo Golijov. You don't necessarily go to a string quartet concert expecting to find that half the featured composers are Argentinian.
Another passsage of spare modern passionate desolation was sandwiched between two in imitation of Couperin. I thought first they meant Louis but was extravagantly thrilled to find it was Francois as the ending quoted from the troisieme of the three Lecons de Tenebres which, in the recording by James Bowman and Michael Chance, is officially my favourite record of all time.
Golijov's piece concerns terrorism in Jerusalem, at least in part, and the very high point of the Couperin invokes Jerusalem to 'turn to the Lord thy God'. It was that very part it quoted. I say 'quoted'. 'Lifted' might be a better word for it. Golijov's CD including Tenebrae was ordered from Amazon even before I started knocking out this foolish piece of commentary.
Although, having been able to make out the titles on the outer ring of the wheel (those being in the largest writing), and hoped for Bartok or Shostakovich, it was going to be difficult for anything to impress more than that. Perhaps the Shostakovich Quartet no.3 might have been the safer option because I know that quite well. But it was Bartok who had to take responsibility.
The Quartet no. 1 is 'lyrical and romantic' (for Bartok) and so was interesting to hear. There is, of course, darkness in it but he can manage brief spells of lush as well. It seemed episodic, and was at times rhythmic and dramatic, but no musical idea was sustained for very long. Thus, it appeared inconclusive which might quite rightly be exactly what was meant. None of which is to say there wasn't brilliant playing throughout this piece and the whole concert by all four of the quartet. I've only mentioned one musician by name but that's only because he got the flashiest things to do.
I arrived with the criticism I read recently still not gone away, that the Brodsky's were somehow suspect because they credited their tailor as their fifth member. They weren't overdressed or in any way apparently victims of a style makeover. They were exceptionally well-judged in everything they did, said and wore and produced a superbly resonant sound. I can only apologize to them that Portsmouth didn't have more people who wanted to see and hear them but it was clear that each and every one that did was glad to have done.
Thank you very much for coming.

Portsmouth Festivities - Catherine Bott and James Bowman

Catherine Bott and James Bowman, Portsmouth Cathedral, Monday 22 June

You don't always get quite what you're expecting and it's not always a bad thing. James Bowman has long been one of my favourite singers on account of his recording of Couperin's heavenly Lecons de Tenebres and so I wasn't expecting to see him perform duets like O What Very Charming Weather. While this sort of parlour entertainment would have been familiar to our grandparents, it was an unusual mix for us. Having been given a free hand to perform whatever they would, Bott and Bowman presented an idiosyncratic pot pourri of Handel opera, Michael Tippett, English folk songs and Noel Coward among a varied selection. Bowman is apparently moving forward in his career from other worldly counter tenor to part-time comic turn.

Both singers began with unaccompanied solo pieces that showed off their extraordinary voices, leaving top notes resounding in the clerestory. Then they chose fittingly sea-related songs from The Tempest, Blow the Wind Southerly, Full Fathom Five as well as a duet from Julio Caesare, folk standards like All Things Are Quite Silent and moved on to mark midsummer with Gershwin's Summertime and some gaiety from Flanders and Swann.

Catherine Bott's soprano might have been marginally the more impressive overall but Bowman retains the capacity to astound with his remarkable tone and surge of power. The strength of his counter tenor voice is the more remarkable when contrasted with his more ordinary performances when required in the middle register.

Moving readily between elegiac moods and witty lightheartedness they made a lively if approximately matched couple as if on a date that had yet to prove it would lead to a permanent relationship. But it was a pleasure, an old fashioned English sort of treasure that fitted in a much wider range of songs than you would hear in almost any other show. For both novelty value and top quality voices, they are a rare combination.

Portsmouth Festivities- Tasmin Little and the London Mozart Players

Tasmin Little and the London Mozart Players, Portsmouth Cathedral, Friday 19 June

Tasmin Little is so radiantly cheerful that there's never any doubt that she is enjoying the music as much if not more than anybody else. She is immediately engaged in everything that is going on, turning to conduct a few bars during the violin rests whenever she can.
She conducted the Overture to Marriage of Figaro before the pace slackened in Seigfried Idyll, as redolent of a passing English summer as any of those pieces specifically designed to evoke one. But it was when Tasmin brought out her own violin in The Lark Ascending, which is the genuine article, that the concert became something special. The cathedral acoustic displayed the clarity of Tasmin's playing superbly well and her quick fingerwork was made startling by the detail. It is a sumptuous and evocative piece whether it is quite one's favourite or not, and here it was given an exemplary rendition. The advantages of live performance over any recording become much clearer at times like this.
In the second half, Beethoven's Violin Concerto was inevitably more substantial than anything that had gone before. At once stately and with a storm in his heart, Beethoven is majestic and all encompassing. The drumbeat motif that begins the first movement recurred throughout while Tasmin used the cadenzas to express a dramatic range of emotions from doubt and darkness through to the playfulness of the second movement's well-known final theme. Her playing is confident, positive and compelling, she is a warm and friendly performer apparently playing for the sheer joy of it rather than with specific points to make.
The programme built towards a resounding climax, becoming more involving as it developed in compass and musicality so that no encore could have satisfactorily followed it and I, possibly for the first time, joined the several who gave it a standing ovation.