It’s very exciting when you come across a really talented
new composer, one who has a distinctive voice and yet who can communicate
strongly with the listener. This disc is a substantial achievement;
witty, intriguing music, brilliant performances and perfect recording
techniques.
Jaakko Mäntyjärvi is a 39-year-old Finn,
who studied English and linguistics, and who has steadily been building
an international reputation over the past ten years. His interest in
things English is demonstrated by the Shakespeare settings here, and
by his knowledge of bell-ringing which informs two of the pieces. His
linguistic expertise is not so evident in the works themselves, but
does make itself apparent in the composer’s hilarious booklet note on
‘El Hambo’.
In fact Mäntyjärvi’s infectious sense of
humour comes over strongly throughout the disc. The opening number Pseudo-Yoik
is based on the Lappish traditional vocal form the Yoik, and has
a nonsense text made up by the composer. It’s a hilarious and bracing
number, in which the choir produce an appropriately ‘earthy’ tone, complete
with fortissimo choral grunts. The first set of Shakespeare settings
that follow are more serious as well as perhaps more conventional. Yet
how refreshing to find a contemporary composer shunning ‘gimmicks’ and
concentrating instead on writing really idiomatic, singable music.
The aforementioned El Hambo is probably the
most memorable number on the disc, with its stamping, clapping, grunting
and cod Swedish accents. The next set of Shakespeare songs contain a
solemnly beautiful setting of ‘Fear no more the heat o’ the sun’
, and a delightful Scurvy Tune with a piccolo solo introduces
the famous Hornpipe as well as references to Bach’s Brandenburg no.3.
But the most interesting and original numbers on this
extraordinary issue are the two based on change-ringing. Both are settings
of Psalm 150, Laudate Dominum; the first, Grandsire Triple,
uses a descending scale whose variations are quoted fully in the
booklet in musical notation. Kent Triple Bob is, if anything,
even more delightful, with the individual notes of the scale split up
between seven solo voices – quite a feat for these vocalists (entertainingly
credited in the booklet as ‘bells’!), who acquit themselves superbly.
Canticum Calamatatis Maritimae is a haunting
and rather moving short work based on the tragic shipwreck of the Estonia
in September 1994. Murmuring choral voices set up a barely perceptible
accompaniment to a soprano melody with a distinctly Celtic flavour –
the parallels with the music for the film Titanic are quite striking
here (though Mäntyjärvi got there first of course!)
The final item uses a small orchestra with striking
economy and colourfulness in this tale of the Finnish shaman of folk-lore
Kouta. Again, the choral writing is endlessly inventive, and
the climax in which female voices represent Earth-Spirits and Mother
Time, hovering over a tracery of instrumental sound, is memorably beautiful.
This is a truly outstanding disc; if you love choral
singing, buy it - you’re in for a rare treat!
Gwyn Parry-Jones