In the city and university
of Cambridge the Advent service with
Carols at St. John’s College, given
on the weekend of the first Sunday in
Advent, and the Christmas Eve Festival
of Nine Lessons and Carols at King’s
College stand like twin liturgical pillars
at the opening and close of the season
of Advent. The King’s service has won
international renown thanks to the live
radio broadcast of the service each
year by the BBC. The service at St.
John’s is not quite so famous, though
in recent years the BBC has broadcast
that event also. Listening to it most
years on the radio, I have found it
to be as essential a part of the preparation
for Christmas. Indeed, to be frank,
I find the choice of music usually more
interesting than the bill of fayre at
King’s on Christmas Eve. Now this Hyperion
CD gives us a good representation of
at least the musical core of that service.
In fact, the selection
of music goes beyond Advent Sunday.
As Andrew Burn remarks in his excellent
notes, "the sequence of words and music
takes the listener on a spiritual journey
that starts in the darkness of Advent
anticipation and continues to Christmas,
the Epiphany and even (in Holst’s This
have I done for my true love) to
Easter with its promise of redemption."
One other thing that is worth noting
is the number of connections that are
made in the programme. Thus we find
a carol by Otto Goldschmidt, the founder
of The Bach Choir in London, of which
David Hill has been conductor for some
years. There’s also a link with Winchester
Cathedral, where Hill was Master of
the Music prior to his appointment at
St. John’s. This is Judith Bingham’s
The clouded Heaven, which was
jointly commissioned for that cathedral
and for St John’s and which achieved
simultaneous premières at both
places on Advent Sunday 1998. There’s
a St. John’s connection with Herbert
Howells, who was acting organist there
during World War II and who became an
honorary fellow of the college in 1966.
The pieces by John Rutter and Francis
Pott were written for St. John’s choir.
Finally it’s good to find David Hill’s
distinguished predecessor, Christopher
Robinson represented by his telling
descant for Wesley’s majestic hymn,
Lo! He comes with clouds descending.
We are summoned by
the tolling of the College bell. Then
in the ante-chapel the Advent Prose,
Rorate cæli is sung. The
choir processes to the quire stalls
singing O come, O come, Emmanuel.
As I recall, at the Advent Sunday
service proper this is a congregational
hymn, accompanied by full organ and
part of me misses that stirring sound.
Instead the choir is unaccompanied until
the organ joins them for the last verse.
Then we hear the first
of the seven "Great ‘O’" antiphons.
During the last week of Advent each
of these is sung in turn at Evensong
or Vespers before and after the Magnificat.
Andrew Burn draws on the researches
of Dr. Mary Berry to tell us that in
monastic communities there was a definite
pecking order according to which the
first antiphon would have been sung
by the Abbot, the second by the Prior
and so on. In the light of this fascinating
information, which was new to me, I
rather wish that David Hill had allotted
a different singer to act as cantor
for each antiphon. As it is, tenor Peter
Morton intones them all, and very good
he is too.
These antiphons occur
at intervals throughout the remainder
of the programme, coming in between
a splendid selection of carols. Otto
Goldschmidt’s offering is a lovely,
fluent little piece and it’s beautifully
sung by Hill’s choir. They also give
a winning account of Howells’ A Spotless
Rose. This is a wonderful gem of
a piece, but isn’t there a danger that
it’s becoming excessively ubiquitous?
It seems to crop up on every CD of carols
these days. It would have been nice
if David Hill had chosen another of
the composer’s Christmas pieces, perhaps
its marvellous companion. Here is
the Little Door.
Edward Naylor’s superb
and ambitious anthem, Vox dicentes:
Clama receives a vivid and dramatic
performance. Hill ensures his choir
makes the most of the dynamic contrasts
within the piece and the radiant ending
is delivered splendidly. Judith Bingham’s
setting is imaginative – and very difficult.
However, though the singing is technically
completely secure I did wonder if the
choir was not singing too loudly – or
recorded too closely. Most of the music
is marked mp or mf - there
isn’t a marking louder than mf
– but it rarely sounds that quiet in
this performance. I readily acknowledge
that the fearsome demands of tessitura
made on the trebles and tenors in particular
make quiet singing very difficult but
one consequence is that the important
organ part is often inaudible. This
is a pity since Bingham’s restless,
unquiet music is well worth hearing.
Having criticised the dynamics, however,
I must add that the choir copes excellently
with the very difficult, dense chromatic
harmonies.
John Rutter inhabits
a very different musical world, of course.
I’ve long thought that There is a
flower is one of the most effective
of his carols. The undulating melody
is memorable and disarming and the choir
does the carol splendidly. They also
rise superbly to the different and even
greater challenges of Holst’s This
have I done for my true love.
This is a magnificent and resourceful
piece. On this occasion the rhythms
are sprung excellently, as they need
to be, and the often-complex choral
textures are delivered with admirable
clarity.
Francis Pott’s Lullay
my liking confirms the high opinion
I’ve formed of his choral music on other
occasions. It’s a fine piece with plenty
of variety, featuring an impressive
use of different choral textures. The
familiar Warlock setting is given in
an unfamiliar guise. David Hill has
combined the original a cappella
choral setting (verses 2 and 4) and
the solo-song version (verses 1 and
3). The organ accompanies the first
and third verses, which are allocated
respectively to trebles and the men.
I have to say I think the result is
unsatisfying, neither one thing nor
the other. For me, the chaste sound
of the choral version with its intriguing
harmonies is the preferable way to hear
this rapt carol and I rather wish Dr.
Hill had contented himself with that.
Morten Lauridsen’s
O magnum mysterium, aptly described
by its composer as "a quiet song of
profound inner joy", is rapidly
acquiring the status of a modern Christmas
Classic. I think it’s a sublime piece
though I do hope it doesn’t become over-exposed.
The present performance is quite superb.
The choir sustain the long, slow lines
magnificently, something which requires
complete concentration. The tuning is
magnificent.
At the very end, after
David Hill’s own exuberant descant has
crowned O come, all ye faithful
the choir processes out to the ante
chapel whence they came while the tenors
and basses sing the Christmas Day antiphon
Hodie Christus natus est. Thus
the celebration of Christmas at St.
John’s is very satisfactorily brought
to a conclusion.
This is a very fine
disc indeed. Though I’ve expressed one
or two reservations the overall impression
with which I’m left is one of great
satisfaction and pleasure. The programme
has been assembled with great imagination
and the execution is well nigh flawless.
When one adds in excellent and very
atmospheric sound, first rate notes
and texts and translations, it all adds
up to a very distinguished package indeed.
I shall be surprised if I encounter
a finer CD of Christmas music this year.
John Quinn
for
details
The Choir of St. John’s College, Cambridge/Paul
Provost (organ)/David Hill 
