JOHN TAVENER'S FLOOD OF BEAUTY / A Tapestry of Sacred Music / Review

JOHN TAVENER'S FLOOD OF BEAUTY

A Tapestry of Sacred Music

Esplanade Concert Hall

Friday (17 April 2015)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 20 April 2015 with the title "Bold, beautiful and baffling".

Gustav Mahler once wrote, “The symphony is a world. It must encompass everything.” British composer Sir John Tavener (1944-2013) had taken that view to further extremes, to include not just the world but the heavens and spiritual realms. His last major work, Flood Of Beauty, composed between 2006 and 2007 but left unperformed at his death, embraced that ethos.

A posthumous co-commission by Esplanade and Barbican Centre, its Asian premiere took place as the most ambitious project ever mounted in Esplanade's A Tapesty of Sacred Music festival. Lasting some 110 minutes, it took two vocal soloists, a cellist, three traditional Indian instrumentalists, the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory Orchestra of 60, and mixed chorus of over 100 singers directed by three conductors to perform.

A devotee of the Orthodox Christianity, Tavener took to Asian religions and philosphy in his later years, spawning the ecumenical view that multiple paths led to God. Flood Of Beauty was a setting of the epic Sanskrit poem Saundarya Lahari by Hindu cleric Adi Sankarachacarya, performed in 5 movements or cycles.      

A short prelude by Nadarajan Kathirgamu (sitar) and Nawaz Mirajkar (tabla) serenely led into the first of four cycles which got increasingly longer as they came. Then the voices of soprano Alison Bell and baritone Marcus Farnsworth together with the choirs on stage and in the upper circles chanted the word “sachchidananda”, which represented a state of heightened consciousness and bliss. The massive orchestral forces with conductors Jason Lai (stage), Leonard Tan and Adrian Chiang (on either sides of the second circle) provided an ethereal sphere of surround-sound that permeated the entire work.

Tavener's music is highly tonal, he often being lumped in a movement of contemporary composers of supposed “sacred minimalism”. His aesthetics has however been divisive; some loath his repetitiousness and apparent vacuousness, while others adore his spirituality and timelessness. Flood was for large part more ecstatic than static, and within the first cycle, almost the entire pantheon of Hindu Gods and deities were exalted by name, as the music shifted in gear into the next rung of enlightenment.

Each cycle closed with Ng Pei Sian's passionate solos, the cello serving as a focal point, a kind of divine messenger heralding the next cycle and higher plane of existence. For this listener, he provided an oasis of relief that the earlier hubbub has ended, and a new and better experience was to be encountered. Unfortunately, the third cycle became particularly vexatious and self-indulgent, almost drowning within in its own suffocating froth. By now, some audience members were seen leaving the hall.

Esplanade's Klais pipe organ played by Evelyn Lim was heard in its full glory in the fourth cycle, and soprano Bell elevated to to nether regions where she continued to warble quite beautifully. If one were bored by the highly-strung music, the transliterations projected on two screens provided some entertainment. The eroticism of the Kama Sutra was relived in lines like, 

“Goosebumps form on your graceful neck because you are overjoyed in the embrace of Siva,” 

and by the fifth cycle this, 

“Your breasts are ruby jars of nectar.”

Then the penny dropped. The first four cycles had been a solid 80 minutes of foreplay, culminating in the fifth cycle's consummation of a coital act of cosmic and celestial proportions. That would explain the frenzied last half hour of orgasmic outbursts from the entire body of performers, followed by detumescence in the form of a string quartet's reminiscence, cellist Ng's final oration and sitar, tabla and tambura to conclude as the work had begun.

This was a magnificent effort by all concerned, but was Flood of Beauty a piece of sublime art or emperor's new clothes? From the first listen, some of its strengths and weaknesses may be discerned, but the jury might very well be still out.  A second or third listen may be helpful. 

On the other hand, one might be better off leaving things as they are, taking home some cherished memories and go listen to Mahler instead.

SOWETO GOSPEL CHOIR / A Tapestry of Sacred Music / Review

SOWETO GOSPEL CHOIR

A Tapestry of Sacred Music

Esplanade Theatre

Thursday (16 April 2015)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 18 April 2015 with the title "African earthy harmonies get crowd swinging".

It is a testament to the faith of a community to be united and upbeat in times of war, oppression and poverty. South Africa has had a long history of colonisation, racial discrimination and internal strife to keep its people down but judging by the sheer exuberance of the music sung by the double Grammy winning Soweto Gospel Choir in a hour-and-a-half concert, part of Esplanade's A Tapestry of Sacred Music festival, one might have thought otherwise.

The choir from the South Western Townships (an acronym of which forms its name) of Johannesburg has entertained and inspired since 2002, and its 18 singers (9 women and 9 men) with two drummers and a keyboard player were an instant hit with the audience. It dedicated their show to their “father”, Nelson Mandela, which immediately drew spontaneous applause.

Their costumes of beaded headbands (for the women) and geometric patchwork designs in a riot of rainbow colours were a visual spectacle on their own. When they began to swing and sashay with their singing of traditional South African (in Zulu and Xhosa) and English gospel hymns, an infectious beat soon spread into the house. 

Like the concert given by the Harlem Gospel Choir here in 2013, there was no fixed programme and the quick succession of hymns came with such a natural flow that time was soon forgotten. While the American group's numbers resembled those heard in an evangelical church service, the Sowetans had the more earthy and exotic harmonies, those emanating from the deepest heart of Africa.

The call and response style was much less in evidence here, and there was much humour when the men and women engaged in friendly rivalry. After the men had crooned a number in their cool insouciant manner, a lady challenged, “You're almost there. Now watch and listen.” Thereafter the women gave own their rendition of the same song, now with greater vigour and richer harmonies.

There were a number of familiar songs, from the New World where African music had taken root over the centuries. These included the spirituals Many Rivers To Cross and Swing Low Sweet Chariot, and the hymn Amazing Grace where singers took turn to embellish its melodic line, more floridly with each strophe. More modern songs included Simon and Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Waters and Sarah McLachlan's Arms Of An Angel, done in their own inimitable way.

Soon the concert was drawing to an end, but the audience was getting footloose and ready to shake, rattle and roll. Encouraged by a male lead, virtually the entire house got to its feet to clap their hands and wave their arms with the encores. A standing ovation greeted I Feel Good, an extended run of Amen, Miriam Makeba's (better known as Mama Africa) Pata Pata and O Happy Day, after which the choir gaily shuffled member by member its way off stage. As they say, it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing.    

All photos courtesy of Esplanade Theatres by the Bay.

HARLEM GOSPEL CHOIR / A Tapestry of Sacred Music / Review

HARLEM GOSPEL CHOIR

A Tapestry of Sacred Music

Esplanade Concert Hall

Friday (19 April 2013)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 22 April 2013 with the title "O Happy night".

Esplanade’s 3-day festival of sacred music could not have gotten to better start, opening to the groovy beat of New York City’s Harlem Festival Choir. African-American gospel music began with the spirituals sung by African slaves on the cotton plantations of America’s Deep South. Converted from heathenism to Christianity by their white masters, black music took on religious tones, but coloured by an infectious sense of rhythm and that essential but undefinable element called soul.

Those expecting spirituals sung a cappella in strophic form would have been disappointed, as the songs performed were updated to contemporary popular tastes, accompanied by synthesiser and drum-set. This concert was in effect a worship service, much like those which charismatic Christian churches here aspire to, except that this was the real thing.

Each song is simple, built upon a catchy refrain that is repeated with increasing fervour and passion. The lead singer intones a proclamation, to which the chorus of eight respond and comment. This call-and-response form of worship does not conform to any liturgy but is no less sincere in its expression of faith and belief.

Typically informal was this call-and-response: “Have you tried Jesus?” answered by, “He’s alright!” Only the most dogmatically strait-jacketed would object to this, or the number that went “Who am I? I am a friend of God!” led by the deep-voiced Studdardesque dude (after the American Idol winner) called Mike. The audience was beginning to warm up, singing along with the chorus and waving their hands.

The music was less preachy after the intermission. No introduction was needed for John Newton’s Amazing Grace, showcasing the amazing vocals of soprano Quiona and the dread-locked Travis. Both employed seemingly impossible melismata for long-held notes, with gravity-defying feats in the highest possible registers. Church music or no, that was exactly what the audience came for.

All the nine singers took turns to lead, each bringing their own charm and personality to the proceedings. As for encouraging audience participation, they did not break the ice but melted it with a warmth and radiance that came with being genuinely joyous. When it came to Shakira (not that Shakira) to lead O Happy Day, the entire audience was up on its feet, including many who ventured up onstage to join the singers, jiving and swaying to the music.

This continued into Kool & The Gang’s Celebration, with slightly altered lyrics, and a much appreciated encore. Almost everybody was sorry to leave, and if people may be persuaded to forget for two and a half hours that terrorists and cancer still stalk the world, then the Harlem Gospel Choir has succeeded beyond its wildest dreams.

A standing ovation is a sure thing in all Harlem Gospel Choir concerts.

Really, nobody wanted to go home!

Good quality photos courtesy of Esplanade Theatres By The Bay.   

A TAPESTRY OF SACRED MUSIC / Some Reflections

A TAPESTRY OF SACRED MUSIC 

15 April 2011 

Esplanade Theatres on the Bay

Sometimes we take for granted the freedom of religion and beliefs we enjoy in Singapore. In a secular state that preaches tolerance of other faiths other than Mammon, we have done well for ourselves. Unlike certain neighbouring states where one runs the risk of being fire-bombed while attending church service, or having one’s temple of worship desecrated, everybody living in Singapore peacefully pursues his or her own creeds without fear or favour.

This wealth of diversity was never better illustrated than in Esplanade’s three-day-long festival A Tapestry of Sacred Music. We witnessed a sample of this over a four-hour stretch on a cool Friday evening, beginning with Tibetan Sacred Music (above) by the Jamchen Lhakang Monastery of Kathmandu, Nepal. The Outdoor Stage was the perfect setting for this meditative exercise with seventeen Tibetan monks chanting a series of mantras, each sequence punctuated by issues from an assortment of blown instruments (including the Himalayan version of the alphorn and the dung, or blown conch shell). Although we did not understand the words, the monotone repetitiveness of its message was a strangely calming one. Their’s is the power of positive thinking, and the helpful programme notes provided some clues, such as the chants translated as:

May all cities be beautiful and the wealth of its people increase.

May the mountains and fields be beautiful, may the people sing with great joy without pride or argument.

May the government take care of its people and pacify all wars.

What noble thoughts such as these cannot but move the stoniest of hearts or the hardcore sceptic. Why not share it with the rest of the world?

Quite different were the offerings by the Singapore Symphony Orchestra and combined choruses in the Concert Hall with Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms and Walton’s Belshazzar’s Feast. Although these were not officially part of the Festival, the serendipitous coincidence was totally uncanny.

For once relieved of reviewing duties, we were perched high up in Circle Two where a bird’s eye view of the full ensemble was afforded. And the sound was remarkably vivid; almost every entry (including occasional wrong ones) were caught with amazing clarity. The 125 singers acquitted themselves superbly, helped by Stravinsky’s transparent scoring (no violins and violas) for the Symphony (last performed in Singapore way back in 1986!) and a battery of percussion. The rhythmic chugging of Stravinsky’s neoclassicism (not to mention a reaffirmation of his Russian Orthodox faith he grew up with) and preciseness of delivery made for a highly stimulating performance.

Even more impressive was the Singapore premiere of the Walton, which is scored for far bigger orchestral forces. Sir Thomas Beecham once told the young composer, “Why not throw in a couple of brass bands, since you won’t get to hear it again?” It’s now a Proms favourite and a tour de force for choral groups. Not exactly religious in nature, the oratorio nevertheless provides a spectacle of biblical proportions. The American baritone Stephen Powell had a bright clangour which makes a change from the dour British basses one is more accustomed to on recordings. His voice transcended clearly through to the rafters, and the chorus was equally trenchant, not least with its shout of “Slain!” which caught some (probably napping) listeners by surprise. My only wish was that the fourth row in the gallery was filled, as fifty extra voices would have made for an even more emphatic performance.

Congratulations go to conductor Lim Yau for helming this particularly challenging programme with great conviction, which also included Milhaud’s jazz-influenced ballet The Creation of the World and How Blessed is They Dwelling Place from Brahms’ A German Requiem. The latter was sung in tribute to the late great Singaporean composer Leong Yoon Pin was left us on 13 April. He was Singapore’s musical pioneer, also a founding member and section leader of the Singapore Symphony Chorus when it was formed in 1980 (which incidentally performed the Brahms at its first concert).

A post-concert supper took us to the alfresco Barossa restaurant, where we could hear strains of the Thai piphat ensemble from Ramkamheng University (below) from the Outdoor Stage. Also part of the sacred music festival, this was yet another interesting facet of the Buddhist religion, one of Thai royal courts, and far removed from the Tibetan variety. Our musical evening was complete, and our minds and souls at peace with the Universe.