There are dozens of superb choirs dotted around the 
          universities of the world, many of them in the southern hemisphere. 
          Here’s an impressive and enjoyable offering from Pretoria in South Africa 
          – a fascinating potpourri of music from the past one hundred and fifty 
          years or so. An added dimension of interest lies in the fact that some 
          of the compositions are European, some contemporary South African. 
        
The first offering is Himne by the South African 
          composer Roelof Temmingh. A setting of a fragment of the ‘Te Deum’, 
          it is attractively eclectic. At the outset we have shifting ‘mystic’ 
          harmonies for the voices against a triplet accompaniment in the piano. 
          This gives way to a strongly rhythmic section, quite jazzy, while the 
          conclusion brings us some modest ‘special effects’, influenced by the 
          music of Penderecki, Ligeti or the UK composer Patterson. The virtues 
          of the choir are well displayed here; extremely well balanced, blended 
          and integrated, with a disciplined sense of ensemble. Diction could 
          be clearer and more forward, though, particularly in the sopranos and 
          altos, and the dynamic range is fairly limited. 
        Having thus announced its national allegiance, the 
          choir now proceeds to show its strengths in music from the European 
          classical repertoire – Mendelssohn’s lovely Jauchzet dem Herrn alle 
          Welt (‘Praise the Lord all the World’), Bruckner’s great Os Justi 
          (‘The Mouth of the Just’), and Verdi’s setting of the Lord’s Prayer. 
          The Mendelssohn is sung affectingly, though a strange quality in the 
          singing does manifest itself in a tremulous vibrato from all sections 
          when singing softly. Not quite sure whether this is caused by ‘nerves’ 
          or is a deliberately cultivated feature – I suspect the latter, and 
          it’s not unpleasant, just slightly unusual. In Os Justi, the 
          limited tonal resources of the choir become apparent, as the great crescendi 
          and wondrous outbursts of stepwise descent are under-powered, despite 
          the undoubted sensitivity of the singing.
        Another ‘sub-plot’ of the recording is the inclusion 
          of five pieces from Northern Europe. The Estonians Pärt and Tormis 
          are represented by the first’s gently minimalist Magnificat, and 
          the second’s impressively primitivist ‘Curse upon Iron’, which is a 
          setting of a text from the ninth century Kalevala, complete with pounding 
          bass drum. These are done well, though intonation gives problems in 
          the Pärt.
        Two pieces of Swedish origin are included; the innocuous 
          To the Mothers of Brazil is originally by the jazz pianist Lars 
          Jansson, and has been arranged for choir with alto saxophone obbligato 
          by Gunnar Eriksson, while Dilemma by Sven-Eric Johanson opposes 
          the men’s and women’s voices. The booklet tells us that the women sing 
          the ‘good’ words of the text, while the men the ‘evil’ ones, but for 
          some reason no translation is given – so unless you have a Swedish dictionary 
          to hand, or a good knowledge of the language, your guess is as good 
          as mine! Nevertheless, this, the shortest work in the programme, is 
          an enchanting and beautifully written little motet.
        The Scandinavian contingent is completed by Mäntyjärvi’s 
          wonderful and hilarious Pseudo-Yoik, a take on the traditional 
          Lappish form of the yoik. The choir’s enjoyment of this is easy to hear, 
          and though their performance may not be as totally convincing as that 
          by the Tapiola Chamber Choir on their recent FINLANDIA recording (0927-41563), 
          with the composer himself in the choir, it’s not far off, and draws 
          a delighted response from the audience. (Incidentally, it’s not made 
          clear if all the performances are ‘live’ or whether we are hearing a 
          mixture of concert and studio work.)
        Of the South African music, the most impressive for 
          me was the strange Villarosa sarialdi by Thomas Jennefelt. Like 
          Pseudo-Yoik, this has a nonsense text, which in fact looks very 
          much like Latin (and has some real Latin words in it), but has been 
          assembled by the composer purely in order to explore choral and vocal 
          tone. After a couple more ‘popular’ items, the programme closes with 
          an entertaining gospel-style number, Operator, once more featuring 
          the saxophone of Marc Botha.. 
        This choir is a young one and has its limitations, 
          but it does sing very well, and clearly works hard to develop a strong 
          sense of style, whatever the music that is being tackled. Well worth 
          hearing, and a fascinating sidelight on an aspect of contemporary music-making 
          in Africa.
        Gwyn Parry-Jones 
         
        John Phillips was not quite so impressed
        The University of Pretoria Camerata, a mixed choir 
          of 65 students, was officially established in 1968. They give regular 
          concerts on campus and also participate at church services. Every year 
          they undertake concert tours abroad, and besides the standard large-scale 
          works of the Classical and Romantic repertoire, they sing much contemporary 
          music from Africa and abroad. They have won many prizes in international 
          competitions, not only in Africa. 
        
 
        
This disc is a curate’s egg of music; there is a wide 
          range of styles of singing and periods of music, but with a preponderance 
          of modern idiom. The problem is that the modern works have often no 
          theme or plan, and one asks the question why write them or even perform 
          them? To my mind music should have a meaning or message, particularly 
          when words or sounds are made; in several of these pieces purpose seems 
          lacking. 
        
 
        
The first item "Himne" is a setting of the 
          Te Deum for Chorus and piano, most unusually; the impression I got is 
          one of trying to be too clever with sounds at the expense of meaning. 
          This also applied to Raua Needmine, Dilemma, and Pseudo-Yoik. In Villarosa 
          sarialdi Jennefelt first wrote the music and then wrote his own nonsense 
          text for it (his words!). As is admitted in the booklet, the text may 
          look like some strange form of Italian or Latin, but in fact means nothing 
          at all. 
        
 
        
Against these forms, the Mendelssohn, Bruckner and 
          Verdi are moments of sanity and well, if rather blandly, sung. I would 
          have liked to hear more attack and emotion in the performances, and 
          although the choral singing is accurate and tuneful, and the diction 
          good and clear, the whole performance misses that final finish which 
          makes it enjoyable and remarkable. The sopranos tend to some shrillness, 
          but I would have expected more from an Afrikaans choir, and the two 
          part-jazz, part-Gospel songs, I am the voice of Africa and Operator 
          come across very well and are obviously enjoyed by the choir. There 
          are saxophone solos in To the Mothers of Brazil and Deep River, 
          and the performances of the first of these, together with Pseudo-Yoik 
          and Operator are taken from live concerts. 
        
 
        
The booklet is informative, but in Raua Needmine 
          only English words are given (it is sung in Estonian), and in Dilemma 
          and Villaros sarialdi no English translations are given. 
        
 
        
At full price, this disc is of very limited appeal. 
        
 
        
        
John Portwood