Paul CARR (b. 1961)
Requiem For An Angel - for mixed voice choir and orchestra (Requiem
Aeternam; Pie Jesu; Chorale - Let Mine Eyes See Thee; Sanctus;
Agnus Dei; Song - Do I Love You; Kyrie; Lux Aeterna)
(2005/6)* [50:54]
I thank You God for this amazing day [9:42]
Holding The Stars (2009/10) [5:51]
Now Comes Beauty (2010) [4:44]
*Sophie Bevan (soprano); *Mark Stone (baritone)
Chorus Angelorum; Bath Philharmonia/Gavin Carr
rec. 23-24 August, 2010, St-Jude-on-the-Hill, London. DDD
Latin/English texts and English translations included
world première of Requiem
STONE RECORDS 5060192780048 [71:37] 
Requiems are very much in fashion these days among British composers. There’s
the very fine setting by John Rutter (review)
and more recently we’ve had recordings of Requiems by Humphrey Clucas, Howard
Goodall (review)
and Sir Philip Ledger. Still awaiting recordings are the new settings by Bob
Chilcott and Gabriel Jackson, both of which I’m eager to hear.
Paul Carr wrote his Requiem in response to the death of his mother, though
I must admit that I am very slightly confused by his booklet note in which
he implies that the composition was his way of dealing with her passing, yet
it appears that the initial score was actually completed a week before her
death. It matters little. What is clear is that the work, which was
prompted by a commission from an amateur choir of which his brother is music
director, is obviously a sincere and deeply felt response.
Carr’s Requiem pre-dates Eternal Light. A Requiem by Howard Goodall
but, like Goodall, Paul Carr has chosen to write a work that is primarily
consolatory in tone and he and Goodall also have in common that they range
for the texts that they set much more widely than the Requiem Mass. Carr’s
score sets some of the Mass texts and also includes words by Emily Dickinson,
Jack Larson and Carr himself as well as a Victorian adaptation of words by
St Teresa of Avila. With one exception, to which I’ll come later, I think
the texts are well chosen.
The piece is in eight movements and gets off to a good start with a melody
for the words ‘Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine’, that lodges insidiously
in the mind. I’m a little less sure about Carr’s decision to re-state the
melody boldly and loudly a couple of minutes into the movement, with unison
choir and full orchestra. To me it sounds a bit too obvious and also, shall
we say, a bit too confident, given the words and the context. I’m even less
convinced by the jaunty, very rhythmic music that we hear shortly afterwards
at ‘Te decet hymnus’; this seems to me wholly inappropriate to the words,
but once that’s past the remainder of the movement is reassuring and lyrical
in tone; it’s also very likeable.
A setting of ‘Pie Jesu’ follows and here we encounter soprano Sophie Bevan
for the first time. She makes a very favourable impression and Carr gives
her some good material to sing. It seems that few, if any, composers are able
to resist using a female soloist when setting this text. It would be nice
to find some composers willing to break the “Fauré mould”. But Carr’s response
to the text is a good one. Even better, I think, is his third movement, a
Chorale for baritone solo and chorus, setting the adapted words of St. Teresa.
Carr’s music is genuinely touching.
The Sanctus is also a success. The music dances joyfully and Carr’s decision
to use tom-toms in the scoring is nothing less than inspired, for this fairly
simple touch really emphasises the joyous nature of his strongly rhythmic
music. After a gently affecting setting of the Agnus Dei, into which some
lines by Emily Dickinson are skilfully interwoven, we come to the sixth movement.
Entitled ‘Song – Do I Love You’, this is the movement about which I have doubts.
The text is a couple of stanzas from a poem by the American, Jack Larson (b.
1928). Emotionally, I can see exactly why Paul Carr included this movement
for it has important personal connotations, which he explains in the booklet.
I’m afraid, however, that I find both the text and the music overly-sentimental
and I think the movement is too much of a good thing. I realise that this
is a very subjective judgement, which others may not share. I also acknowledge
that I might feel differently about the music if I heard it sung by another
singer. Mark Stone, who sings well elsewhere in the work, seems to me to try
too hard to be expressive – something I’ve noticed occasionally on other discs
of his that I’ve reviewed – and the results seem overblown to me.
The penultimate movement is the Kyrie and it’s unusual to find a setting of
this text positioned so late in such a work. Carr’s setting is quite impassioned
and is followed by the longest and, in some ways, the most ambitious movement,
‘Lux aeterna’. There’s a particularly memorable and affecting moment of repose
when the choir quietly sings in Hebrew the first line of a couplet from Psalm
133. Later on Carr builds the music, which now involves the whole ensemble,
into a passage that some may think is a bit over-confident for its context.
However, the music dies away to a quiet, consolatory conclusion, which is
much more apt.
I’ll confess that the first time I listened to this work I was not too impressed.
I came away from that hearing feeling that Carr’s melodious, largely consonant
music was rather like a warm bath and that the music doesn’t challenge the
listener sufficiently. I mention that in case the piece has the same effect
on others. If it does, I can only say that repeated listening has persuaded
me otherwise. The piece is evidently sincere; it’s skilfully written, both
for the voices and for the orchestra; and Carr’s natural, melodious style
makes the work readily accessible. Though I haven’t seen a score I should
imagine that the work lies well within the compass of a good amateur choral
society and if this CD catches on, as it probably will, then more performances
are likely to result, which is surely the raison d’être of this recording
– and rightly so.
The performance is a good one. Both soloists are effective – despite my one
reservation about the baritone – the choir do a fine job, as does the orchestra,
and Gavin Carr conducts his brother’s music with evident commitment. The recorded
sound is good but I must voice one concern. The choir, which I suspect is
a pick-up group, numbers just thirteen singers, Frankly, it defies belief
that they could be so easily heard against an orchestra that numbers forty
players – including timpani and three percussionists – without a good deal
of intervention on the part of the engineers. That’s especially the case in
passages, such as in the Sanctus and Agnus Dei where the orchestral writing
is particularly loud and full, I would much rather have heard the work sung
by a larger choir – say forty voices - but one that is more credibly balanced
against the band.
To complete the disc we’re offered three shorter choral works, all of which
are very well done. I was especially struck by Holding The Stars, a
setting of words that the composer himself wrote when copyright issues prevented
him from setting James Agee’s Sure on this Shining Night. The music
seems to me to carry – beneficially – the influence of Samuel Barber. It’s
a fine piece of unaccompanied choral writing and, actually, I think this is
the best music on the disc.
John Quinn
A first recording of an accessible, recent Requiem by a British composer.
and a second opinion from Rob Barnett ...
Cornish-born composer Paul Carr already has a substantial work-list. This
includes concertos for piano, viola, clarinet, oboe and flute. Rather like
Carey Blyton he also does a good line in catchily memorable titles – always
a strong suit: Jazz Cardigans (for guitar), Diverting Sundays (for
wind quintet), Forbidden Waltz (for bassoon and piano), Running
With Dogs (for clarinet and piano) and Very English Music (for
string orchestra). His Air for string orchestra (Naxos)
and a couple of pieces for flute and piano (Cameo)
have been recorded.
His Requiem is smooth, certainly romantic and more than a touch sentimental.
This is not ivory tower music but is accessible to the widest range of sympathetic
ears. It speaks to everyone in its sharing of loss and exaltation through
sorrow and consolation. The idiom resides in the bailiwicks of John Rutter
and Herbert Howells though the tonal complexity of the Howells is not what
Carr is about. Other names come to mind – Patrick Larley and Ian Venables
– though on this evidence his music is not as profound as either. The Requiem
has none of the anger of more savage examples – there’s no Dies Irae,
for a start. The companion pieces are broadly in the constituency of Delius
and of Stanford's Bluebird. These in no way disappoint and belong most
comfortably and comfortingly in the English lyric tradition allowing for glances
towards film music – in which he has experience – Saving Private Ryan and
John Barry. Balmy, honey-honed consolation is in the ascendant - no rasp,
no tremor. Words are printed in full in the booklet with background notes
from the composer.
Rob Barnett
Balmy, honey-honed consolation is in the ascendant.
comment received
I just wanted to respond to John Quinn's review of my new disc "REQUIEM
FOR AN ANGEL" - basically to thank him for a very intelligent and thoughtful
review, but also to take up issue with two points. Firstly, I don't understand
his mild attack on the 6th movement "Do I Love You" - I think that
Mark Stone sings it exquisitely and that the performance and the movement
as a whole are in no way overblown.
As for his thoughts on the choir - it was a group of 17 choral soloists from
amoungst the very best this country has to offer, not 13 as mentioned in his
review. Although in the editing process a general balance is artificially
enhanced, as with all recordings, the 17 solo choral singers in this case
had such a vibrant and rich quality of sound, that the editing of balance
is no different had the choir been a massed chorale of 40 standard choir singers,
it's more a matter of quality of sound. I wanted, and I think gloriously obtained,
a much higher quality of sound that you simply don't get with massed choirs.
This choir - Chorus Angelorum, all of whom work regularly together in professional
choirs such as The Sixteen, Polyphony, and The Monteverdi, create a much richer
sound than could ever be created by a massed choir of 40 standard choral singers;
their sight-reading ability is extraordinary and the end result, for me anyway,
much better than any standard choir could ever deliver.
PAUL CARR