Choral - Secular
357 products
Westminster Choir At Spoleto Festival U.s.a. / Flummerfelt
lib
bklt, tc omit rec dates
Resolicited 05/07/02 Allegro cat
In Tune 5/96 P.138
arg 9/96 p.262
fan 9/96 p.385
The Call - A Concert for Veteran's Day / Willamette Master Chorus
This program honors those who have served in the armed forces of the United States of America. “The Call”, which was commissioned by the choir, is by Dave Metzger, widely known for his many arrangements and orchestrations for films such as Training Day, August Rush, Frozen and the Broadway production of The Lion King--for which he won a Tony Award. (Gothic)
Praise Parisienne with Martin Jean
New American Choral Music Series: William Bradley Roberts
Shall We Gather At The River: Choral Music Of William Hawley
Sounds of Light
Reincarnations - Ives, Barber, Et Al / Dale Warland Singers
Mornings Like This
With Heart & Voice / Brian Jones, Ross Wood, Trinity Choir
Masters in This Hall
Haydn, J.: Jahreszeiten (Die)
Eastern Promises (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)
It Is Time
Arthur Gottschalk: Requiem for the Living
Michael G. Cunningham: Wisdom, Love, Eternity
DARK HOURS (Mystic Moments of Classical Music)
Hear the Christmas Angels
Britten: The Choral Edition
Tying in with the centenary of Britten’s birth this year, this three-disc compilation set brings together a large selection of early and late unaccompanied choral works, performed by the Finzi Singers and Paul Spicer. This disc includes A Boy was Born, Rejoice in the Lamb, and Choral Dances from Gloriana.
Songs Of Sailors And Sea / Us Navy Sea Chanters
The Sea Chanters, the 17-voice chorus of the United States Navy Band in Washington, D.C., was organized in 1956, as an all male chorus specializing in songs of the sea. Female voices were added in 1980 and their repertoire was expanded. They perform throughout the United States, and often perform at the White House, Vice President's house and for Washington dignitaries. In 1994, the chorus provided music at the funerals of former President Nixon in Yorba Linda, California, and former first lady Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis at Arlington National Cemetery.
Canticum: Choral Music Of Jaakko Mantyjarvi
The Carols Album / Huddersfield Choral Society, Et Al
There are a few surprises right from the start of this disc. First, an introduction to the carol "Hark the herald angels sing" by an unnamed brass group, second the use of a new (to me) arrangement, and finally the sound of a well trained and well recorded choir but singing with polished Southern vowels. Whilst I regret the loss of some of the individuality which a more characteristically Yorkshire sound used to give this splendid choir, it is by no means a serious defect, and the other surprises I have mentioned are positive gains. The brass group are used sparingly in a small number of carols, but there they do add a distinctive colour of a kind familiar to devotees of Songs of Praise. The new arrangements (again, to me) of many of the carols are generally welcome, especially most of those by the excellent organist, Darius Battiwalla. The contrasting "Little Jesus, sweetly sleep" and "I saw three ships" show him able to grasp the essence of a tune and embellish it without swamping or contradicting that essence. Unfortunately this does not apply in the final item – "Christians awake" – which loses its wonderful rough dignity in gaining a regrettable Broadway Musicals sound.
Many of the other arrangements are by the conductor, Joseph Cullen, who shows a similarly approach and skill to Darius Battiwalla. Older arrangements are by no means completely neglected, and "Gabriel’s message" in Edgar Pettman’s lovely arrangement and Harold Darke’s "In the bleak midwinter" are highlights for me. Less so are John Rutter’s perversion of Adophe Adam’s delightful song or the pleasant but by now hackneyed arrangements by David Willcocks. One surprise is the inclusion of Reginald Spofforth’s Glee, "Hail! smiling morn". Even if it does sound better with single voices to a part, it makes a delightful effect here, and I hope that other choirs may be tempted to include it in carol concerts, even if the words have absolutely nothing to do with Christmas.
The problem of the order in which to perform carols to ensure a good variety of character is solved very well, so that the disc can be enjoyed when listened through as a whole. All in all, if you want a recording of most of your favourite carols (but no "Good King Wenceslas" or "While shepherds") in varied and mainly attractive arrangements, well sung and recorded, this may well be exactly what you are after.
--John Sheppard, MusicWeb International
STILLE NACHT … CHRISTMAS CHOIR MUSIC
Delius: A Mass of Life, Idyll / Opie, Hill

To witness a performance of Delius’s A Mass of Life, arguably his supreme creative achievement, is to look into the heart of the composer and his Nietzsche-inspired world. Moreover, this ravishing music, written between 1898 and 1905, represents Delius at the height of his powers, when musical ideas seemed to pour out of him at a time when he had finally learned to assimilate, in an entirely individual, not to say maverick manner, a confluence of modernist styles embracing Grieg, Wagner, Strauss, Charpentier and Debussy.
There is no doubt from the vivid opening choruses of Parts 1 and 2 of this recording (and what openings!) that the message of the work is a life-affirming one. There is a dynamic momentum to the tempi which perfectly evokes Zarathustra’s ruling passion, the Will of Man, and there is a richness to the orchestral sound which adds to the sense of muscularity. The chorus negotiate Delius’s often awkward vocal intervals with great skill and the intonation is virtually flawless. Just occasionally the sheer weight of the orchestral sound, which is quite forward on this recording (more so than Hickox), is apt to overwhelm the voices but this is a minor distraction.
Hill brings energy and élan to the third section, ‘In deine Auge’ (for me perhaps the most exhilarating section of Part 1), where the parallel with the end of Act 2 of Die Meistersinger is almost palpable and where the most unusual example of a Delius fugue (!) is given life, vigour and meaning.
Alan Opie, who has the lion’s share of the solo music in the work, is almost Wotan-like in his performances. From his first Nietzschean dance he is majestic and brings out of the score that vibrant, heady, Teutonic contemporaneity with which Delius had clearly become enthralled at this point in his career. Opie’s singing of what is effectively the role of Zarathustra has immense authority and his impressive range (up to high G) is ideal for Delius’s onerous vocal demands.
Andrew Kennedy, Catherine Wyn-Rogers and Janice Watson also offer fine lyrical interpretations of their solo parts and the choral accompaniments are allowed to intermingle subtly as an extension of the orchestra. The BSO are on fine form too, and special mention needs to be made of the haunting horn-playing in the introduction to Part 2 (‘On the Mountains’), a sound which sums up so much of Delius’s nature music.
This is a must for any Delius Liebhaber and, with the added bonus of the late Prelude and Idyll, a marvellous starting point for anyone new to Delius’s unique but compelling art.
-- Jeremy Dibble, Gramophone
DELIUS A Mass of Life. Prelude and Idyll1 • David Hill, Cond; 1Janice Watson (sop); Catherine Wyn-Rogers (mez); Andrew Kennedy (ten); 1Alan Opie (bar); Bach Ch; 1Bournemouth SO • NAXOS 8.572861-62 (2 CDs: 118:19 Text and Translation)
A Mass of Life is quintessential Delius, musically and existentially, composed over 1904–05 in the first great rush of his maturity. From the bounding affirmative choruses to the breathtakingly sustained nature contemplations, from the melancholy to the ecstatic, the Mass of Life traces and forecasts the gamut of Delian affect with a concision, fullness, and abundance he might rival but never achieve so comprehensively again. Unless I’ve missed something, this is but the fourth recording of the work since Beecham’s nonpareil 1952 account. Though its musical demands are daunting—if nowhere near as challenging as those of Mahler’s “Symphony of a Thousand,” with which it invites comparison—the primary bar to frequent performance is its text, drawn by Delius’s friend Ernst Cassirier largely from the Dance Songs of Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra. For those coming in late, one recalls the oft-quoted passage in Eric Fenby’s Delius as I Knew Him: “When, one wet day … he was looking for something to read in the library of a Norwegian friend … and had taken down a book, Thus Spake Zarathustra—a book for all and none—by one Friedrich Nietzsche, he was ripe for it. The book, he told me, never left his hands until he had devoured it from cover to cover. It was the very book he had been seeking all along, and finding that book he declared to be one of the most important events of his life. Nor did he rest content until he had read every work of Nietzsche that he could lay his hands on”—to which Fenby, a devout Catholic, adds—“and the poison entered his soul.” For listeners and performers today it may still be something of a jolt to find, in place of the supplicating Kyrie that the unfortunate term “Mass” leads one to expect, a glowingly charged hymn to the Will, “dispeller of need, my own necessity,” followed by Zarathustra’s brief praise of laughter (“My own laughter I pronounced holy”), succeeded by Zarathustra’s love duet with Life in a meadow filled with dancing girls, an archetypal encounter transpiring in a mythical dimension “beyond good and evil,” beyond place and time, crowned by the first, murmured, utterance of the Bell Song, the work’s central mystery. A Mass of Life may, of course, be enjoyed for its power and sensuous magic without reference to its text, but only to those nurtured on Nietzsche will it reveal its full import. Shrugging incomprehension of the text renders Benjamin Luxon’s Zarathustra, for Charles Groves (with the London Philharmonic Chorus and Orchestra), merely mellifluous, while Peter Coleman-Wright’s deadpan delivery for the late Richard Hickox—with the Waynflete Singers directed by today’s conductor, David Hill, and the Bournemouth Symphony Chorus and Orchestra—proves anesthetically workmanlike. When it appeared in 1997, I rated that reading, on Chandos, the best since Beecham’s (Fanfare 20:6). That honor goes now to the present offering. While Alan Opie does not efface memories of Bruce Boyce, for Beecham—whose delivery resonated from the nexus of Delius’s realization of Nietzsche—he teases the text gingerly, making a credible Zarathustra. In some numbers, Delius asks the soloists to share parts, with some of Zarathustra’s lines persuasively taken by Andrew Kennedy, and a portion of Life’s happily rendered by Janice Watson, though Catherine Wyn-Rogers’s beguiling, seductive Life recalls Monica Sinclair’s divinatory geste for Beecham. The choral work is beyond praise, though in Hill’s brisk approach the melting lyricism heard chez Beecham tautens and leaps.
Idyll is a late reworking of music from Margot la Rouge, composed in 1902 for the new opera competition offered by the music publisher Sanzogno. Though it failed to score and was not heard in Delius’s lifetime, it comes from the composer’s ripest years and contains gorgeous swaths of his richest utterance, which he salvaged in 1932, recomposing it to words by Whitman and making an extended love duet of it. Idyll has not lacked for vocally lustrous, persuasive performances submerging Whitman’s quaintness (“Behold me when I pass, hear my voice, approach, draw close, but speak not. Be not afraid of me”) in absolute conviction. Of major interest, the lovingly lingering 1981 account led by Eric Fenby—who took down the score from dictation by the blind, paralyzed Delius—features Felicity Lott and Thomas Allen (deleted Unicorn-Kanchana UKCD 2073). Meredith Davies’s still-available 1968 tilt at Idyll, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, is made memorable by the divinatory partnership of Heather Harper and John Shirley-Quirk. In keeping with his go at the Mass of Life, Hill pushes the work a bit, spurring the impassioned moments to escalate from the pervasive tone of wistful elegy. Opie, as the anonymous man, is authoritatively resonant, in response to Janice Watson’s brightly edged soprano (touched by a bit of vibrato), with its gloriously amber lower register, buxomly filling the part of the nameless woman.
One caveat: In the headnote the title of the work is given per the album, but you will search the catalog of Delius’s works in vain for an orchestral Prelude. The work so designated is simply the first three minutes—an orchestral prelude, to be sure—of Idyll and has never, until now, been listed separately. The fake title generates a phantom work to bedevil buyers, scholars, and connoisseurs, and detracts from—rather than adding to—the program’s generosity.
Sound packs an immediate wallop making for occasional congestion. In the opening chorus, for instance, the leaping underlining of trombones and tubas becomes indistinct, overwhelmed by choral mass, and while one can pick out the glockenspiel, its function of festive accentuation is lost. In quieter passages, and in the capture of the vocalists, on the other hand, this upfront take is gratifyingly welcome. In German, Zarathustra’s pronouncements recall and parody the Lutheran Bible, in light of which the ostensibly stilted thee-ing and thou-ing of William Wallace’s singing translation—made for Beecham and used by him for all of his public performances (according to notes by Delius aficionado Lyndon Jenkins)—fall into place, if not quite into King James English. Whitman’s text is included.
In sum, a superb production and the grandest addition to the Delius discography in many years. Highest recommendation.
FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis
La Jeune France / The Sixteen
R E V I E W S:
“This disc is something not far from a revelation ... elaborately sonorous, radiantly glowing ... as usual from this fine group, the performances are immaculately detailed, and, especially in the Messiaen, they have a very un-English sense of the sumptuousness that binds it in to a compelling whole.” THE DAILY TELEGRAPH
Fanfare:
"Formed as a counterpoise to the urbane neo-Classicism and iconoclastic tendencies of Les Six, La Jeune France was a group of French composers who, in the words of Harry Christophers, wished to “restore eternal spiritual values to music.” Its members were André Jolivet, Olivier Messiaen, Jean Yves Daniel-Lesur, and, not represented on this CD, Yves Baudrier. All four were born between 1905 and 1908. The three cycles on this CD were commissioned by Marcel Couraud for his eponymous Ensemble Vocale. Couraud specified that they should be in 12 parts, about 20 minutes in length, and set to texts dealing with love.
Jolivet wrote his own text, compiling it from Egyptian, Hindu, Chinese, and Greek sources. This is a fantastically difficult work—not choral at all, but actually a setting for a “vocal orchestra” consisting of 12 solo voices. Similarly, Messiaen wrote his own texts for the Cinq rechants, basing it (as with the Turangalîla-symphonie and Harawi) in part on the story of Tristan and Isolde, and using Sanskrit and the Quecha language of Peru’s original native tribes. The music is absolutely typical of this composer, and the similarities between the Cinq rechants and the aforementioned Harawi are too numerous to mention here. Daniel-Lesur turned to the Bible and the Song of Songs for his text. At least in this recording, La cantique des cantiques uses a larger group of singers (24) than is used in the Jolivet and in the Messiaen (12). (One wonders why this ensemble is called “The Sixteen”!) At least in the United States, Daniel-Lesur is almost unknown today. (Norman Lebrecht, in his Companion to 20th-Century Music, drops the nugget that Daniel-Lesur “retreated” from the ideals of La Jeune France, and “wagnerized Pelléas” in his only opera Andrea del Sarto.) Of these three works, Messiaen’s is the most distinctive, Jolivet’s the most musically advanced, and Daniel-Lesur’s the most straightforward and conventionally erotic.
The members of The Sixteen sing with such accuracy and control that parts of the Cinq rechants are actually terrifying. (The climax of the middle song may have you worrying that your CD player is malfunctioning.) In terms of technique, there’s nothing lacking from these readings." - Raymond Tuttle, FANFARE
Bob Chilcott: The Angry Planet
A double album of new works to confirm Chilcott’s status as one of the most popular choral composers of today. The Angry Planet ('An Environmental Cantata' commissioned for the BBC Proms in 2012) sees the precision and skill of the BBC Singers and The Bach Choir conflated with the exuberance of a veritable army of young singers.
