ERCU and BCS: ‘Gloria!’
Usher Hall 15/3/26
Brussels Choral Society, Edinburgh Royal Choral Union, Orchestra of Scottish Opera, Michael Bawtree (conductor), Katie Carmichael (soprano), Caitlyn Mackenzie (mezzo-soprano), Euan McDonald (tenor), Joshua McCullough (bass)
On a weekend in December, the Edinburgh Royal Choral Union travelled to Brussels to rehearse and perform with Brussels Choral Society. On the afternoon of the 15th March, the two choirs reunited in the Usher Hall to perform the same programme, comprising Bruckner’s Mass in D minor and Poulenc’s ‘Gloria’. For the Scottish ‘leg’ of the collaboration, the choirs were accompanied by none other than the Orchestra of Scottish Opera, whilst the vocal quartet known as the Sòlas Ensemble provided the four soloists [soprano Katie Carmichael, mezzo Caitlyn Mackenzie (Third Lady, RCS ‘Die Zauberflöte’ exactly a year ago), tenor Euan McDonald and bass-baritone Joshua McCullough ( Don Prudenzio in ‘Il viaggio a Reims’ and Peter Quince in an adaptation of Britten’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ at last year’s Wexford Festival; Sarastro in ‘Die Zauberflöte’, Neptune in ‘Idomeneo’ and Le Roi in ‘Cendrillon’ at the RCS]. I was reminded of the words of Carl Sagan, when Bach’s music was proposed for inclusion in the ‘Sounds of Earth’ disc that would venture into deep space aboard the Voyager 1 spacecraft: “that would be boasting”. Well, Scotland, “if you’ve got it, flaunt it”, say I. ERCU’s Music Director Michael Bawtree conducted.
Written between the epiphany of hearing Wagner’s ‘Tannhäuser’ (1863) and the First Symphony (completed 1866), Bruckner’s D-minor Mass (1864) is full of very symphonic musical ideas that would not sound out of place in any of his monumental canon of 9 conventionally numbered symphonies. The Kyrie opened like the slow introduction to a symphonic first movement, the mood sombre and supplicatory. There was lovely ebb and flow in the dynamics, with some early opportunities for the 200-strong combined chorus to flex vocal muscles, quite impressively. The orchestra, still hot from ‘Tristan’, made good on the Wagnerian vibe with plenty of nervous energy in the string writing getting a committed outing. There was also brief warmup inputs from solo mezzo, soprano and tenor to check all was well. The first appearance of Brucknerian ‘sursum corda’, where a rising scale is matched with rising dynamic and chord progression, often found in his slow symphonic movements, was delicious. Back to the minor key mood of the opening for the subdued end of the Kyrie. The Gloria is Bruckner’s chance to evoke choirs of praising angels and, after an invocation from a solo choral tenor, that is what we got in spades (and D major) with vim and vigour. There were lyrical interludes for the soloists and a beefy bass solo at the words “qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis”. The exuberant concluding fugal ‘Amen’ was thrilling. In the episodic Credo, the composer for whom exercising his craft was an act of worship threw everything he had into a profession of faith, vigorously declarative at first, more measured for “genitum, non factum’, then full of lyrical reverence from the quartet of soloists for the “et incarnatus est”, which was exquisite. . The depiction of the Crucifixion was grim and dark; the “et resurrexit” contrastingly triumphant and radiant (and, in retrospect for me, the peak moment of the afternoon’s music-making). After a stern reminder of the Last Judgement, the sun came out again for the triumphant conclusion of the Credo. Life-affirming stuff. The Sanctus was relatively brief, at first growing like a slow movement, switching to faster tempo for “Pleni sunt caeli”, surprisingly contemplative for choirs of angels praising. The following Benedictus, which is effectively the concluding couplet of the Sanctus, was more substantial, sweetly idyllic in G major with an orchestral introduction, a light and airy episode for the solo quartet, a conversation between the tenor solo and the choral basses, a declamation for whole choir and brass, an orchestral interlude, a choral conversation between women’s and men’s voices, a nice horn solo and a concluding ‘Hosanna’ for all. The only movement to remind me of the masses of Bruckner’s compatriot Schubert. The ‘Agnus Dei’ started with a march tempo, but there was the same ebb-and-flow as the Kyrie (and the bass got to reprise “miserere nobis”). So many of the structural features of his later symphonic finales got an airing, but the trajectory was not towards a triumphant exultation but rather repose, submission, trust and peace. The grammatical ‘mood’ of “dona nobis pacem” may be imperative, but the message of the music is: peace, if you really desire it, is yours for the taking, or rather the making. A message that never ceases to be current, more so now, perhaps, than ever.
Poulenc’s ‘Gloria’ is as different a kettle of fish as a kettle of fish can be. Bruckner was a devout Catholic his whole life; Poulenc “got religion” in later life. Bruckner exudes gravitas; Poulenc levitas. Bruckner calls for SATB soloists, Poulenc just soprano. In both scoring and duration, the Poulenc is on a smaller scale, though also in 6 movements. The quirky opening ‘Gloria’ combined the festive mood of a fanfare with Stravinsky-like neo-classical nostalgia that even hints at Vivaldi’s ‘Gloria’, prompting expectations of genial informality, which by-and-large were then met. ‘Laudamus Te’ was gleeful and pacey with more than a hint of the mischief in ‘Les Biches’. A sudden stop, pause and resumption did nothing to derail the mood. ‘Domine Deus’ was more awed and supplicative, with plaintive oboes and the soprano’s invocations answered by the chorus. After gentle tension between a minor key and a pastoral ambience, the movement concluded calmly. ‘Domine fili unigenite’ was playful, short and witty, with another nod to Stravinsky. ‘Domine Deus, agnus Dei’, though a plea for forgiveness, was couched in bluesy, seductive musical language with quite sultry harmonies. “Suscipe” challenges from the choir were answered with calm reassurance from the solo soprano. The dreamy coda had winds, strings and horn settling to a chord to which, if played in isolation, I would have to ask “Korngold, surely?” Gorgeous. The final movement, ‘Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris’, started with the choir in declarative mode, joined by the orchestra quoting fragments of the opening fanfare and bringing us full circle, confident and jubilant, with music that had a spring in its step. After a big climax, there was a sudden stop. Soloist and choir traded ‘Amens’ as sultry Ravel-like harmonies wound down to the pianissimo conclusion. Lovely.
All-in-all, top-quality collaborative music-making and a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.