The Florida-based chamber choir Seraphic Fire are new to me, yet I see
they have done remarkably well for an ensemble that's only just entering
its second decade. Led by their distinguished founder and conductor
Patrick Dupré Quigley they have made a number of recordings to date;
their repertoire is eclectic, ranging from Tallis to Ticheli, and the
quality of their work has earned them Grammy Award nominations. Indeed,
my colleague Dominy Clements felt their Monteverdi
Vespro della
Beata Vergine and
Magnificat a 6 – also with the
Western Michigan University Chorale - compared favourably with some
of the better versions in the catalogue (
review).
With Christmas in the offing I was looking for a carol album that offered
something a little different. This mix of old and new, arranged for
choir and harp, seemed to fit the bill. However, only after I’d
downloaded the files from eclassical.com did I realise there were no
liner-notes. In a Scrooge-like moment I posted a cross Tweet and within
the hour Seraphic Fire’s Ross Chuchla had emailed me a pdf version
of their attractively designed booklet. When will labels realise it's
no longer acceptable – if indeed it ever was – to market
their downloads without appropriate documentation? CD buyers wouldn’t
accept it, so why should those of us who opt for downloads instead?
This collection begins with Jacqueline Kerrod’s lovely rendition
of
Bugeilio'r gwenith gwyn (Watching the wheat) by the
Welsh composer, teacher and Royal harpist John Thomas. The harp’s
rich susurrations and the chapel’s clear acoustic are beautifully
caught, as are the antiphonal voices in John Rutter’s
What
sweeter music. The simple, rhyming quatrains are nicely sung, although
there are moments where the vocal blend could have been a little tidier.
No such qualms about the
a cappella piece
O magnum mysterium,
from Poulenc’s
4 Motets pour le temps de Noël, which
emerges with austere loveliness and pin-sharp articulation.
This is a chamber choir after all, so don’t expect a big, sonorous
sound. There’s a certain roughness, a rustic ardour perhaps, to
Holst’s setting of
In the bleak midwinter that’s
entirely apt; it’s framed by harp playing of quiet simplicity
and strength. Conductor Quigley’s arrangement of
Angels we
have heard on high is a sliver of pure delight, and the choir’s
cascading repetitions of
Gloria in excelsis Deo are keenly
felt and sung. The three movements from Britten’s
Ceremony
of Carols, a work penned on his voyage to the US in 1942, has rather
more sinew; its choral parts are met with characteristically pointed
ripostes from Kerrod in
Deo Gracias. The rocking harp figures
of
There is no rose have a gnarled quality that contrasts nicely
with the gentler
Balulalow and the highly animated rendition
of
This little babe. I do prefer this work with boy trebles,
though.
Reflecting on what we’ve heard thus far it’s clear this
isn’t the warm, cosy concert that one might assume from the album
title. There are few soft edges here, no rush of festive sugar, and
that's really rather refreshing. Even Jake Runestad’s
Sleep
little baby, sleep – originally for SATB and piano –
has bright, ringing peaks that one wouldn’t normally associate
with a lullaby. At least it has a quiet, reposeful ending. Norman Luboff,
who led the well-known Norman Luboff Choir, is responsible for a lovely
arrangement of the Austrian carol
Still, still, still; it has
a serene charm, the darker choral sound laced with pin-pricks of light
from the harp. This is a little gem, and it deserves to be better known.
O nata lux, from that doyen of American choral composers Morten
Lauridsen, has a pleasing plainness that some might construe as a lack
of substance. I must confess I don’t warm to his music, but hearing
his
O magnum mysterium sung by a truly stellar choir makes
all the difference (
review).
His indefatigable British counterpart John Rutter’s arrangement
of the lilting
Quittez, pasteurs (Come, leave your sheep) is
enlivened by a keen sense of rhythm, while Susan LaBarr’s arangement
of the
Huron Carol, Canada's oldest, celebrates the nativity
in music of marvellous solemnity and grace. It’s one of the most
affecting pieces here.
The alliterative
Patapan, from Kirke Mechem’s
Seven
joys of Christmas, is charged with bright-eyed wonder; and, at
last, Rutter’s
Candlelight Carol brings the gentle warmth
and good cheer heralded in the album title. Indeed, those reassuring
cadences – Kerrod is as melting as ever – glow with rare
contentment. It’s the perfect end to a most engaging programme,
whose content and execution certainly lived up to my hopes of ‘something
a little different’. If you’re after more robust and traditional
Christmas music look elsewhere.
Any caveats? Very few. Details about the works and composers would have
been useful, and the recording is prone to sharpness in the treble.
It’s certainly not a cosseting acoustic. Some may find the selection
a tad unvaried, but when it's this well presented that hardly seems
to matter.
Lean festive fare that’s not without nourishment; fine performances
and decent sound.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
Track listing
John THOMAS (1826-1913)
Watching the wheat [4:10]
John RUTTER (b. 1945)
What sweeter music (1987) [4:28]
Francis POULENC (1899-1963)
4 Motets pour le temps de Noël (1951)
No. 1, O magnum mysterium [3:36]
Gustav HOLST (1874-1934)
In the bleak midwinter (by 1906) [2:52]
Trad. arr. Patrick Dupré QUIGLEY
Angels we have heard on high [2:18]
Benjamin BRITTEN (1913-1976)
A Ceremony of Carols, Op. 28 (1942) [6:56]
Deo Gracias [1:16]
There is no rose [1:30]
Balulalow [2:42]
This little babe [1:28]
Jake RUNESTAD (b. 1986)
Sleep, little baby, sleep (2012) [4:23]
Austrian carol, arr. Norman LUBOFF (1917-1987)
Still, still, still [3:25]
Morten LAURIDSEN (b. 1943)
Lux aeterna: O nata lux (1997) [4:06]
French carol, arr. John RUTTER
Quittez pasteurs [2:27]
Canadian carol (1642) arr. Susan LABARR (b. 1981)
Huron Carol (2012) [5:06]
Kirke MECHEM (b. 1925)
Seven joys of Christmas (1964)
The joy of children: Patapan [1:32]
John RUTTER
Candlelight Carol (1984) [4:29]
