This is a strange program. It’s interesting, for sure, and very well sung by one of the world’s finest English choirs (ah, those sopranos!)–but it seems more like a random compilation than an organized program, and indeed doesn’t quite live up to its description as “a celebration of European and English folk carols, from their early roots…to more recent additions to the canon.” It begins with what must be the slowest version ever recorded of the first movement (theme) of Britten’s A boy was born (not to its betterment), and proceeds through fine renditions of a varied collection of several of the truly “canonic” Christmas works–Bach’s In dulci jubilo; four by Praetorius (including the beloved Es ist ein’ Ros’ entsprungen and one of his own settings of In dulci jubilo); Edgar Pettman’s classic arrangement of the Basque carol Gabriel’s Message (gorgeously sung here, but again, too slowly); Vaughan Williams’ The truth from above; Noah Greenberg’s always delightful Ríu, ríu, chíu.
And then there are several original works and modern arrangements of traditional Christmas songs and carols by William Mathias (a snazzy performance of A babe is born), Giles Swayne (Coventry Carol, a world-premiere) and Clare College director Graham Ross, whose version of the Austrian carol Still, still, still (another world-premiere) is one of the disc’s highlights. His Lullay, my liking, a text that’s inspired composers for 600 years, is a truly unique creation, whose melodies, harmonies, embellished effects in the solos, and harp accompaniment exude an exotic quality that hints of ancient times and Middle-Eastern tradition.
John Tavener’s A Hymn to the Mother of God makes an odd companion: yes, the text (from the Liturgy of St. Basil) is about Mary (although it doesn’t mention her by name), but it’s not a carol, its liturgical context is not Christmas, nor does it belong to any repertorial “canon”. Musically, it’s one long, strained, formulaic sequence of chords desperate for a conclusion–typical Tavener, not compatible with most of this program. Odder still is the inclusion of a Webern song–“Dormi, Jesu”, originally for soprano and clarinet. Okay, the traditional text is a lullaby for the baby Jesus, but by any measure, this anti-melodic 81 seconds of serialism, from a set of five canons (Op. 16), does not qualify as a real “lullaby” nor is it anything like a carol–and it’s difficult to imagine its future inclusion in the “canon” of Christmas choral music. (Pity the poor child expected to fall asleep to this, in 12-tone bliss!) Fortunately, it’s sung by those exquisite Clare College sopranos, it’s less than a minute and a half long, and maybe we don’t mind so much. (And where else do we get to hear a Webern song performed anymore?)
When Webern’s slice of dodecaphony is immediately followed by David Willcocks’ very traditional Quelle est cette odeur agréable?, clearly there’s something out of place here. Where are we? There are worlds that harmoniously merge or gratefully share a space, and then there are those that collide. But a simple collision or two doesn’t seem to phase the producers and performers on this program. When next we delve deeper into the modern pop-ish world of John Rutter’s Nativity Carol, we think, all right, we’re at the end–we’ve come from the sophisticated, technically demanding Britten to Rutter’s popular, schmaltz-tinged creation, and we can ease into those smooth, lush harmonies and relax.
But no, director Ross, his choir, and the instrumental musicians of The Dmitri Ensemble cap this “Music for Christmas” melange with an ultimate rogue selection–of all things, Schoenberg’s Friede auf Erden. This is probably the only time we’ve been asked to accept this substantial and vocally grueling work as a Christmas piece, in forced company with Vaughan Williams and Praetorius and Bach–and Willcocks! If this were a different type of program–say, an alternative look at Christmas music–we would be able to engage more readily and easily with works such as this (and the Webern). There also would be plenty more musical contenders to fill the bill. But this choice, contextually (and literally) at odds with the rest of the program’s repertoire, is nothing short of bizarre. Fortunately, Ross opted for the version orchestrated by the composer, which tempers some of the more injudicious choral passages and rounds off some of the work’s sharp edges. The choir does a masterful job, a performance that makes this work listenable if not particularly lovable.
But ultimately, we’re sold this production as ‘Music for Christmas”. It is–and it isn’t. And even the truly certified Christmas repertoire is puzzlingly chosen–it just doesn’t convince as a credible, unified program. And as good choir directors everywhere know (to paraphrase a distantly recent political slogan): “It’s the repertoire, stupid!” Sonically the production (from All Hallows Church, Gospel Oak, London) is excellent, and as mentioned, the singing first rate. Fans of Christmas choral music will see the name Choir of Clare College and will automatically buy the disc; I can only say that you will be just a little surprised–but, in spite of its oddities, not fatefully disappointed.
