Tenebrae make their
concerts visual experiences as well
as musical events. They wear deep purple
robes, like cassocks, and illuminate
the performance stage with a few substantial
candelabras. I can imagine, therefore,
that this performance of Rachmaninov’s
great sacred masterpiece must have been
a potent experience for the audience
gathered in St. Asaph Cathedral.
There is no point in
comparing this recording with one from
Eastern Europe. Tenebrae, for all their
virtues don’t possess the Slavonic timbre
of a choir such as the St. Petersburg
Capella and that applies across the
voices; it’s not simply a question that
a Western choir lacks the cavernous
Russian basses. Tenebrae’s performance
doesn’t belong in that tradition, nor
does it pretend so to do. Instead, they
come head to head into competition with
other crack Western choirs, and most
especially with the Corydon Singers,
whose award-winning 1990 Hyperion disc
still remains a formidable rival.
Actually, these two
performances are different in several
important ways. Nigel Short, directing
Tenebrae, appears to have a fairly intimate
conception of the Vespers (I propose
to use the incorrect shorthand title,
simply for ease of reference.) That’s
not to say that this account lacks weight
and substance at critical moments. However,
Tenebrae consists of thirty singers.
By comparison, I suspect the Corydon
Singers was a larger body on their recording
– it certainly sounds larger. I’ve seen
them perform this work twice in unforgettable
late night concerts in the 1990s in
Gloucester Cathedral during two separate
Three Choirs Festivals. If memory serves
me right the choir then numbered between
forty and fifty.
However, it’s not just
in size of ensemble that the two performances
differ. Nigel Short’s reading of the
Vespers occupies just about 57 minutes.
Matthew Best’s reading, recorded under
studio conditions, comes in at 66’27".
The music never sounds rushed in Short’s
hands (nor does it drag with Best) but
he’s quicker overall than Best in nearly
every movement, sometimes appreciably
so. Best seems to be aiming at a grander
conception. The difference extends to,
and indeed is magnified somewhat by
the recorded sound afforded to each.
Short’s very satisfactory recording
has the singers relatively close to
us (though there’s adequate resonance
and space round the sound.) Best’s choir
are recorded at a bit more of a distance
(though no detail is lost) and sing
in a more resonant, more obviously ecclesiastical
acoustic (they were recorded in St Alban’s
Church, Holborn, London.)
Though I point out
these differences I must say that each
account works very well on its own merits.
I like the urgency that Short imparts
to the opening movement Priidite,
poklonimsya) (‘Come, let us worship’)
but, having said that I do also appreciate
the greater degree of weight that Best
achieves at a slightly broader tempo.
In the succeeding movement,
Blagoslovi, dushe moya (‘Bless
the Lord, O my soul’) there are some
beautifully limpid vocal textures from
Tenebrae and their basses descend with
quiet sonority at the end. Frances Jellard
is a good soloist but I have a sneaking
preference for Joya Logan (Corydons),
partly because I like the pure sound
of her voice and partly because the
slightly greater distance at which she’s
positioned from the microphone gives
a preferable sense of space.
The other soloist is
a tenor, who features in three movements,
most prominently in the famous setting
of the Nunc Dimittis, Nyne otpushchaeshi.
Paul Badley sings well for Short
but John Bowen, Best’s plangent tenor,
is more satisfying. Bowen sounds more
at ease with the cruelly taxing tessitura
and Best’s gently swaying tempo strikes
me as near ideal. At the end of this
movement is the famous passage where
the basses descend very quietly to a
low B flat. Both choirs do well here
and though I suspect Short has fewer
basses at his command his singers go
down into the basement with splendid
control.
Other sections that
are especially worthy of note in this
Tenebrae performance include the well-known
Bogoroditse Devo (‘Hail, O Virgin
Mother of God’). This exquisite movement
is shaped quite beautifully and rises
to fervent, brief climax. In Khvalite
imya Gospodne (‘Praise ye the
name of the Lord’) there’s a joyful
spring in Tenebrae’s singing and the
final movement, Vzbrannoy voevode
(‘O Victorious Leader’) dances ecstatically.
This Tenebrae performance,
then, is one of real stature and I enjoyed
it very much. It doesn’t quite dislodge
the Corydon Singers as my preferred
choice for a reading by a Western choir
but it runs them close. Tenebrae sing
with the precision and finely produced
tone that one has come to expect from
them. Their singing is splendidly controlled,
whether in soft passages or in the fervent
climaxes.
As an encore they sing
one short movement from Rachmaninoff’s
earlier Liturgy of St. John
Chrysostom, Op. 31. This is a hushed
movement of exquisite tenderness that
features a gently soaring soprano solo.
The unnamed soloist sings beautifully.
The CD comes with good
notes and the transliterated text and
an English translation are provided.
The recorded sound is very pleasing.
The only slight quibble I have is over
the inclusion of applause. Unlike several
of my colleagues I quite like to hear
applause at the end of a live recording
as it reminds one that this was a genuine
performance in front of real people.
However, after the Vespers we hear slightly
over one minute of applause, which is
surely excessive. Also, I wouldn’t have
allowed any applause to intrude after
the rapt encore.
But that’s a minor
quibble and doesn’t detract from the
overall excellence of this disc. If
you already have the Corydon Singers
version in your collection I think you
can rest content. If not, however, this
newcomer is well worth considering.
It’s surely not insignificant that both
of these fine recordings are conducted
by men who are themselves experienced
singers. I warmly recommend this new
recording and am glad to have it as
well as that by Matthew Best in my own
collection.
John Quinn