Occasionally, you come across a disc that,
despite many shortcomings, is illuminated by something very
special. Sometimes, too, this can be combined with the discovery
of one track which is quite exceptional. That is the case
here; what we have here is, in its way, quite an amateurishly
produced CD, often with quite poor balance between voice
and accompaniment; but the sheer beauty of the singing of
young Freddy de Rivaz makes any reservations beside the point.
It is very important to persevere beyond
the first track, the ‘title number’, Walford Davies’ lovely God
be in My Head. I say persevere, because the balance problems
are apparent right away, with the voice almost uncomfortably
close and the organ a mere distant echo. Here, Freddy’s diction,
too, is at its most self-conscious, with over-long ‘a’ sounds – ‘arnd in
my understarnding. But, if you listen on, I
guarantee that by the end of track 2, Bennett’s The Bird’s
Lament, you will be won over by the singer’s glorious
voice and his natural musicianship of a very high order.
It’s perhaps the breathing and phrasing
that are most remarkable in someone who was not yet fourteen
at the time of recording, for both are very mature, making
possible long, musically intelligent parsing. In addition,
though, intonation is faultless, smack in the centre of every
note, and diction, if occasionally mannered as above, is
exceptionally clear. Finally, what is so lovely is the ‘untrained’ naturalness
of the singing despite its high quality. This is in a sense,
of course, an illusion; Freddy has received masses of training
of the best sort, in his years as a chorister in St. Albans
Cathedral under the guidance of Andrew Lucas, as well as
elsewhere. But the characteristic of the best musical training
is that it guides and develops a natural gift rather than
taming it and turning into something manufactured.
There is great variety in these sixteen
short tracks, from sacred numbers of various eras – Lallouette
in 17th century, Mendelssohn in the 19th,
Britten in the 20th – plus the occasional folk-song
(Salley Gardens arranged by Britten, Evelyn Sharpe’s
version of the Skye Boat Song) and opera aria (Caldara’s Alma
del Core), while the final track is In Trutina from
Orff’s Carmina Burana. A highly appropriate number
to end with, as its title means ‘In the balance’, and the
words speaks of the wavering of the adolescent between childish
and adult emotions. Our Freddy not only sings this splendidly,
but manages a final D which lasts for a whopping 18 seconds – not
bad for young lungs!
Oh, and that one, exceptional track I mentioned
at the start? That is track 10, Peter Hurford’s ineffable Litany
of the Holy Spirit. It’s beyond me to describe this,
you have to hear it. Suffice it to say that it’s a graphic
illustration of the fact that when music is at its apparently
simplest it can also be at its most devastating.
Congrats are due to all who have contributed
to this disc, which has undoubtedly been produced con
amore.
Gwyn Parry-Jones