Opus 8.Last Saturday – in a world still reeling after the inauguration of now-president Donald Trump – Opus 8 provided a well-needed program of music centered on the theme of peace. Titled “Dona Nobis Pacem,” the concert was full of liturgical settings of the Agnus Dei. The choir was masterful in sound, warm and balanced in the church, and provided an uplifting power that filled and satiated the soul.

There’s something about singing sacred music in a sacred space – and the Church of St. Mary Magdalene is more important than most in Toronto’s choral music history. Healey Willan, now known for his catalogue of over 800 compositions, was choirmaster and organist at this church for 40 years. Elmer Iseler, who would go on to have a profound impact on the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, the Amadeus Choir and of course, the Elmer Iseler Singers, was also a singer in this church’s choir.

On Saturday’s concert, Richard Dering’s Hei mihi! Domine provided a superb example of fine choral music making, with a controlled decrescendo towards the end of the piece. The echo and resonance of the sanctuary cradled the diminishing sound in the most inviting cocoon. Contrasted afterwards by Leonard Bernstein’s Agnus Dei and Dona Nobis Pacem (from his Missa Brevis), the following works’ strong forte sound was equally pleasing in a different way.

In between every couple of songs, one of the choristers would speak about the programming, giving snapshots of what to expect. This personal touch provided a lovely humanizing of the process, and helped bring some focus to the latter part of the first half, which was harder on the ear with unusual lines, byzantine influences, unusual cadences and dissonant endings in the Wellesz Agnus Dei and the “cacophonous” (as chorister Simon Honeyman calls it) Apostolo Glorioso by Guillaume Dufay.

The incredibly unusually setting of 3 or 4 adjacent semitones providing a sense of questioning and hesitancy in Robert Busiakiewicz’s Agnus Dei from his Missa Sapere Aude. The sopranos had more vibrato than the rest of the choir, which for me stood out particularly in Busiakiewicz’s piece. In music like this, the very specific pitches present a unique challenge for choristers; they require centering and little movement to hear their full effect.

The second half of the concert was by far the star of the show. The polyphony of Guillaume de Machaut’s Agnus Dei from Messe de Nostre Dame dates from the 14th century. The first ordinary mass written by one person, it is full of wonderful ascending and descending patterns. Opus 8 rose to its full potential here, with a lovely, balanced choral sound in the Cipriano de Rore Agnus Dei. Midway through, the voices mix into this cohesive, translucent, vibrating, sugary dessert. It is light and trembles in just the right way.

Other pieces on the program included Hosanna to the Son of David by Orlando Gibbons, Schien uns, de liebe Sonne, by Arnold Schoenberg, John Tavener’s The Lamb, and Herbert Howells’ Take Him, Earth, for Cherishing. The Tavener and Howells felt mostly congruent, with all voices moving most of the time together, while the Gibbons and Schoenberg felt messier to my ear – the more text, the muddier the sound, especially in a resonant church.

The choir finished with Josquin des Prez’s Agnus Dei from Missa L’Homme Armé. The gentle opening descending lines were perfectly executed. The work is supported by these ascending bass lines as the higher voices sing staggered, descending melodies. It is a bare composition, naked and exposed, but beautiful – and their performance of it proves that the singers of Opus 8 are stellar musicians.

I do not think that music director Robert Busiakiewicz had planned this concert to align with the American inauguration. I don’t think he could have possibly predicted that the theme of this concert would be so essential with a Trump presidency. But on this day of global protest against a dangerous world leader, it was here, in a church dedicated to a sex worker, that we found some rest and repose. This is the power of art and music: to be what we need, even when we don’t know we need it – and, through the process of creation and sharing, to help us find a way forward, even through the darkest times.

Opus 8 presented Dona Nobis Pacem on Saturday January 21 at 7:30pm. at the Church of St. Mary Magdalene in Toronto. For more information, visit www.opus8choir.com.

Follow Brian Chang on Twitter @bfchang. Send info/media/tips to choralscene@thewholenote.com.

The Exultate Chamber Singers at their holiday concert.Carols are unique to the holiday season. At this time of year, they’re on the radio, humming in the back of our heads, in the malls as we shop, and often on the street being sung or played by musicians across the city. These ubiquitous songs cover every emotion possible: sad, happy, joyful, peaceful, funny, odd, and so much more. And it’s a challenging thing to program carols; people want to sing, people want to participate. Many choirs do just that and invite you to sing along!

In the smattering of concerts I’ve attended and performed in the last few days, communal singing has featured quite heavily. And why not! It’s fun, joyous—and how often can you find a venue with 1000 people singing?

On Wednesday, December 7, I sang in the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir’s performance of Festival of Carols under the baton of Noel Edison. Audience participation always features quite heavily in these productions and it’s good fun. Already a large choir of 130, the choristers were joined by the Salvation Army staff band and organist David Briggs. For anyone who has been to Yorkminster Park Baptist Church, it has one of the largest organs in the city, with a huge sound. Participating in these carols is fun and pleasing—especially if you’re lucky and can hear yourself over all the instruments.

This year’s communal offerings featured Once in Royal David’s City, O Come All Ye Faithful, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, and The First Nowell. Perennial favorite, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, also made an appearance. This is one of my favourite carols, and the version most people know was written by the choir’s namesake himself, Felix Mendelssohn. This is the place to go if you want earth-shaking bass from the organ vibrating through your soul. Unfortunately, though, these concerts end up being a bit of a screamfest, trying to articulate and be heard over insurmountable noise from the organ and brass band. Sadly, choirs will always lose against a brass band.

On December 9, I caught Exultate Chamber Singers under Hilary Apfelstadt, which presented A Time for Celebration: A Canadian Christmas. Hilary programmed Stephen Chatman’s Christmas Joy, a medley of several traditional carols of British origin. With over 15 years of choral singing under my belt (half of my lifetime), I’m not often surprised by a new carol. In the medley, however, Noel Nouvelet and Lo! How a Rose, e’er Blooming were new to me. Accompanied by a brass quintet and organ, this was not a screamfest; it was so pleasant. The choir also presented a rare sing-along version of Timothy Corlis’ O Magnum Mysterium, and finished the concert with a new arrangement of Silent Night by chorister and composer J. Scott Brubacher—a beautiful treat, with a haunting bridge set to a rolling melody throughout the choir on the word “sleep”.

Apfelstadt has done an exemplary job featuring Canadian choral writers both old and new in her programming. Exultate is one of those choirs in which the artistic strength of the organization is met with equal talent amongst the musicians. The blend is formidable, and most of all, there is restraint. These choristers are always effective at singing with a wide dynamic range without losing intensity and intentionality, and—with the exception of one stray tenor from time to time—are balanced at every volume.

Exultate performs in a small church on the University of Toronto campus that I did not know existed: St. Thomas Anglican Church. This gem of a building features minimal soft fabrics, no carpet, and lots of wood. The vaulted ceiling carries the sound upwards where it rings. The resulting effect was a warm, present, resonant sound, where even with an organ and small brass quintet nothing was overpowering. Such a difference from the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, with the 30-person brass band and giant organ deafening everyone. A community affair, Exultate’s boisterous intermission of food and camaraderie and post-concert drinks at the Duke of York—the traditional post-show pub for anything at the U of T Faculty of Music—were a delight.

Moving on to Kitchener, on December 11 the Grand Philharmonic Choir provided another new addition to my ear at their Christmas Homecoming concert: the carol See Amid the Winter Snow. The adult choir was joined by the other three choirs in the organization: Viva (ages 7-9), Voce (ages 10-14); and the Grand Philharmonic Youth Choir (ages 14-23)—all together, over 200 choristers. The youngest choir’s performance of Chatter of the Angels was incredibly charming.

The feature was Jonathan Dove’s There was a Child, a collection of poems set to music and selected to commemorate the death of a young man of 19. Here, the choir was accompanied by the Kitchener Waterloo Symphony Orchestra, soprano Jacqueline Woodley, and tenor Andrew Haji.

The children’s choirs provided a jovial, playful sound through some of the poems, highlighted by melodies in the bassoon and clarinet, while the adult choir provided the meat of the choral work. Unfortunately, even with a book of lyrics in hand, the choir was mostly inaudible throughout the entire performance. The choir was set back about ten metres from the edge of the enormous stage; no voices could’ve cut through that much distance over an orchestra, not even 200 of them. I also felt that the placement of percussion adjacent to the audience was inappropriate: the bass drum was overwhelming, the cymbals startling, and even the triangle felt intrusive throughout this performance.

After the concert there was a lovely spread of baked goods, coffee, juices, and tea. Baking, good music, and happy people are a good mix. There was so much to eat, I imagine that there are some avid bakers among the 200+ performers. The strength of this family of choirs continues to provide a model for effective arts administration and synergy.

All of these concerts demonstrate that carols—perennial though they may be—can be refreshing, fun, and joyous. Effective conductors will program music that invigorates and excites both their audiences and their choristers. This is certainly no easy task, to take some of the most overperformed music ever written and make it seem new and exciting, but a good artistic director sees merit in carols, old and new. After all, we only get to sing them once a year.

Follow Brian Chang on Twitter @bfchang. Send info/media/tips to choralscene@thewholenote.com.

Electric Messiah BannerElectric Messiah's soloists (L-R: Jeremy Dutcher, Christine Duncan, Carla Huhtanen, Gabriel Dharmoo). Photo credit: Claire Harvie.I enter the Drake Underground with some friends. We’re here for Electric Messiah, and none of us have any idea what is in store for us. The room is lit red, chairs askew with a few centered in the room. The instrumentalists are around the perimeter of the space facing inwards. The buzz isn’t just from the Cab-Merlot I’m sipping: there’s a hum from a track playing on the speakers and an energy in the room. All the performers are wandering around the space talking to people. There are about 50 people altogether, the space full but not cramped.

The performance begins with the turning on of a lightbulb. Nature sounds, live scratching, a funk organ and guitar come together to start off the adventure. Jeremy Dutcher begins with Comfort Ye. It is loud and aggressive, and is literally in your face. The abrasiveness of the performance and the power of his voice demands attention. Shortly, the rest of the vocalists join in one by one, in various languages. Gabriel Dharmoo, a Quebecer, stands out; his raga-inspired, French-improv chant is evocative.

You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t usually pay attention to the words that soloists sing in Handel’s Messiah. I have an inkling of what the emotion is and some of the words pop through, but in Roy Thomson Hall, the choir cannot hear very much from soloists facing the audience. This performance gave me a chance to experience the solos in a way I am not normally able to.

Jeremy Dutcher’s sensual rendition of Ev’ry Valley Shall be Exalted made me recognize the innuendo of the lyrics. The sexual connotations of making the rough places plain and “exalting” ev’ry valley are indelible in my mind. Much later, Christine Duncan and Gabriel Dharmoo began the songs Why do the nations so furiously rage together and Thou shalt break them. Conventional performance of these two often removes their urgency, their invocation of war and their evocation of terror. Duncan and Dharmoo started the songs but ended up yelling violently at each other. The invocation and evocation were chillingly clear.

Insistency frames this work, gives it its engine, and drives its power. The artistic choices are strong and effective; the work felt urgent and flowing. Pieces felt like a cup under a running faucet, waiting for a moment to overflow before reaching equilibrium. I think of Carla Huhtanen’s interpretation of How Beautiful Are the Feet. Normally performed in G minor, the piece was moved down into a solid mezzo register (C minor?). Half the song was performed at this lower range, which intrigued me, leading me to want more and more. Finally, Huhtanen returned to the written key and finished beautifully.

Electric Messiah. Photo by the author.Effective performances, for me, leave me with a sense of yearning. I believe that a good performance should never give you everything you want. This Messiah left me wanting to explore and know more. The minimalist instrumental accompaniment – organ, guitar and turntables – never felt lacking; the organ inhabited a much-valued presence in the music and paired well with the similarly funk-inspired guitar. The scratching and spinning added a new depth and presence, and contributed to the insistency and urgency of the performance.

Movement artist Lybido provided a dance interpretation of Jesus Christ that was particularly thought-provoking because it could have almost passed unnoticed. Inscrutable and esoteric, moving around the fringes of the room, one had to look for him, to work at seeing him. Point being, in our day and age we wouldn’t recognize Jesus if he were right in front of us. There is a great metaphor in making the actual Messiah peripheral, dancing around the room. In this case, we can only make the connection if we choose to. Recognizing the Messiah isn’t the dancer’s responsibility; it’s ours.

Hearing a work that I know so well, performed in a different way – in snippets, in pieces, with modifications, with edits – kept me engaged and excited. If you are fan of Handel’s Messiah, I recommend that you catch Electric Messiah. Pay attention to the way it makes you feel, and then see your typical Messiah, and pay attention to how that makes you feel. I believe you’ll find yourself enlightened by both, and possibly renewed. There is much to love about Messiah; let it continue.

Soundstreams’ Electric Messiah, based on Handel’s Messiah, is at the Drake Hotel Underground December 5 to 7. For details on the performers and the show, visit https://www.soundstreams.ca/performances/ear-candy/electric-messiah/.

Follow Brian Chang on Twitter @bfchang. Send info/media/tips to choralscene@thewholenote.com.

Photo credit: Miklos Legrady.New music isn’t exactly known for its accessibility. It gets a bad rap—sometimes unfairly—for being esoteric and exclusive. Circus, on the other hand, is the opposite—often stereotyped as empty, mindless spectacle.

Balancing on the Edge, a local music-and-circus collaboration at the Harbourfront Centre last weekend, showed audiences just how wrong both of those assumptions can be.

A co-production from Thin Edge New Music Collective and A Girl in the Sky Productions, Balancing on the Edge (November 18-19) combined six contemporary compositions with six contemporary circus acts. At the closing night show on November 19, the artistic directors of both companies introduced the production by bringing up their own definitions of new music, and the analogous “new circus.” Thin Edge directors Cheryl Duvall and Ilana Waniuk spoke about their focus on performing music that reflected all aspects of modern life. Rebecca Devi Leonard identified her circus company as part of a “post-Cirque-de-Soleil” tradition, and spoke about reinventing the spectacle of circus to find something imaginative and honest. The result: a performance where emotive storytelling is put front and centre—and an example of contemporary multimedia at its very best.

Photo credit: Miklos Legrady.

Each half of the two-part program comprised three main acts, as well as a transitional clowning interlude. The show featured the circus performers on aerial silks, ladder and other suspended apparatus, as well as juggling, clowning, and dancing with flaming torches. Thin Edge musicians supplied the musical component, performing works by Nicole Lizée, Iannis Xenakis, John Cage and David Lang, as well as premieres by composers Scott Rubin and Nick Storring.

Music and circus alike proved technically impressive and emotionally potent. The show opened with Magma, a double choreography with fire, stones and aerial ropework set to Nicole Lizée’s Phonographenlieder for string quartet, piano, percussion, voice and turntables. Here, circus artists Diana Lopez and Rebecca Carney performed with seamless fluidity, while DJ Paulo Kapunan and vocalist Andrea Ludwig in particular brought Lizée’s pop-like, polystylistic music to life. Other standout acts included Excavating Meaning, where aerialist Brandy Leary and composer Nick Storring took the bossa nova ballad as a starting point for a profound meditation on sadness, stillness and grief; and Ghost Bicycle, an aerial choreography on a suspended bicycle frame that followed the death and afterlife ascension of a young cyclist, set to David Lang’s 1993 piece Cheating, Lying, Stealing. Throughout, the musicians of Thin Edge were a tight ensemble, playing with conviction and settling into their new role as circus accompanists with ease.

The only moment in the night that I found wanting was Ascension, a trio act for soprano and two circus performers on a ladder apparatus, using John Cage’s Aria & Fontana Mix (1958/59). For me, Cage's repetitive glissandi in the soprano line and the act's back-and-forth ladder work lacked some of the immediate clarity of emotion and narrative that seemed so evident in the other pieces, as well as some of the internal structure necessary to generate non-programmatic interest. Having said that, soprano Stacie Dunlop’s use of extended techniques (including a visceral, amplified vocal fry-like growling effect) meshed well with the backing electronics, and the circus artists’ ladder work evoked a playful spirit of spontaneity—but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that some structural or narrative element was missing. Neither wholly abstract nor explicitly descriptive, the act seemed at first viewing to lose its bearings in a vague, unfruitful middle ground.

Taken as a whole, Balancing on the Edge deserves the highest of praise. Skillfully combining new music with new circus, the two companies together found a combined means of expression that worked. They demonstrated a profound depth of emotion, and captured a musical-dramatic clarity that should serve as a high-water mark for what multimedial storytelling can do.

The performers and crews of both companies shone Saturday night, in a production that showed the modern spirit at its best. If their goal was to redefine what contemporary music, or contemporary circus, could be, they succeeded. If it was to tell modern stories in a visceral and relevant way, I was left in awe.

TENMC and AGITS Productions’ Balancing on the Edge was presented November 18-19 at The Harbourfront Centre. For details on the show, visit www.balancingontheedge.com. Photo credits: Miklos Legrady.

Sara Constant is a Toronto-based flutist and musicologist, and is digital media editor at The WholeNote. She can be reached at editorial@thewholenote.com.

 

Updated: November 23, 11:15am.

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