First it was the Grechaninov 
                Passion Week (see 
                review) and now here’s another fine disc of unaccompanied 
                singing, this time from Norway. The Russian disc showcased the 
                considerable talents of two American choirs – not to mention the 
                sonic benefits of Super Audio – while the Nystedt is a home-grown 
                product, featuring Norwegian forces in contemporary music from 
                their homeland. The recording is also a hybrid SACD, so I was 
                curious to hear how 2L’s approach compared with that of the Chandos 
                team in the Grechaninov. Given that the latter is something of 
                a benchmark in a cappella singing and recording the Nystedt 
                would have to be very special indeed. 
              
Granted, the musical 
                  idioms are very different, Russian Orthodox Church music – rich, 
                  fervent, dark-toned – as against a plainer, brighter modern 
                  idiom with its roots in Palestrina and Bach. Nystedt grew up 
                  in a Christian household, so hymns and church music are the 
                  cornerstones of his music. He has played a vital part in Norway’s 
                  musical life as well, founding no less than two first-rate choirs 
                  – Det Norske Solistkor and Schola Cantorum.
                
What better, then, 
                  to have this music performed by two equally fine choirs, Ensemble 
                  96 and Bærum Vokalensemble, the former created after the Oslo 
                  Philharmonic chamber choir was disbanded in 1996 and the latter 
                  an all-female group once led by Øystein  Fevang. According to 
                  the Ensemble 96 website this CD was nominated for two Grammy 
                  Awards in 2007, so expectations were high.
                
The first piece 
                  on the disc is a setting of texts culled from the writings of 
                  the 19th -century Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard 
                  (1813-1855). Not surprisingly the writing has something of the 
                  philosopher’s style about them, direct and shorn of distracting 
                  verbiage. The music is a mirror of that, closely focused and 
                  unsentimental. That said there is plenty of human warmth when 
                  it’s required – the plainchant-like opening and the end of first 
                  prayer – allied to singing of great virtuosity - the animated 
                  second prayer.
                
Despite singing 
                  of real intensity there are many moments of inwardness and repose 
                  as well. For instance in the third of the prayers there is a 
                  wonderful, restrained interplay of voices that is most affecting, 
                  the prayer ending with a lone soprano rising gently from the 
                  chorus. A lovely touch, this.
                
Nystedt creates 
                  some thrilling juxtapositions – the men and women in the fourth 
                  prayer, the women’s repeated figures in the fifth prayer – and 
                  in the final prayer ‘Father in Heaven! You loved us first!’ 
                  there is a palpable sense of joy, tempered towards the end with 
                  humility. All the while the choir sings with great crispness 
                  and feeling, the detailed recording picking up all the nuances 
                  within. And for once there is not much to choose between the 
                  ‘Red Book’ CD layer and the SACD one, as both are very involving 
                  and atmospheric.
                
The Salve Regina 
                  strikes a warmer, more devotional note, with some gorgeous, 
                  resonant singing from the men. There is also the sense of a 
                  large – but not too reverberant – acoustic, which suits this 
                  music admirably. The final bars are glowingly beautiful, making 
                  it one of the most moving settings of this old text I have ever 
                  heard.
                
One of the more 
                  substantial works is The Word Became Flesh, a setting  
                  of John I, 1-14 (‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word 
                  was with God’). The voices build from a hushed opening to some 
                  splendidly incisive, ecstatic moments – just listen to those 
                  stratospheric soprano lines – and at 2:34 and 5:41 the writing 
                  is rich-toned, almost orchestral in timbre and weight. Simple 
                  but very moving.
                
Nytt er livet 
                  was commissioned in 2003 by the Bærum Vokalensemble, who 
                  gave its first performance in September that year. It is based 
                  on texts by ne Olav Mosdøl (b. 1937) and was inspired by the 
                  baptism of the writer’s first grandchild in 1987. The first 
                  line, ‘New is the life that grabs hold of the light’ is a sure 
                  pointer to the work’s sentiments. The women’s voices proclaim 
                  this new beginning in music of great vigour and rhythmic vitality 
                  (first part), while in the second the soloist and chorus engage 
                  in a rapt but tender dialogue, as if between mother and child. 
                  Part three ‘Glorious is life with its great opportunity’ is 
                  more subdued, tinged with wonder; in part four there is joy 
                  but also, at the close, awareness that ‘hardship’ is an inevitable, 
                  necessary, part of  life too.
                
Nytt er livet 
                  has a disarming simplicity, charming without being mawkish. 
                  Jesu sieben Worte is at the other extreme, as Christ 
                  awaits death on the cross. Written for Ensemble96, who premiered 
                  the work in September 2003, this piece has a darkness, a gravitas, 
                  not heard before. The men manage some lovely quiet singing, 
                  most notably at the close, the women adding bright coronas of 
                  sound in parts. It is a lovely piece but perhaps not as memorable 
                  or moving as, say, the Salve Regina.
                
The final item on 
                  the disc is a reworking of J.S Bach’s Komm, süsser Tod 
                  (‘Come, sweet death’). The chorus is split into five equal groups 
                  spread around the church, a spatial effect that is probably 
                  best appreciated in surround sound. This arrangement is not 
                  obvious in vanilla stereo but, goodness, there are some astonishingly 
                  long, sustained choral passages that must require phenomenal 
                  breath control. The organ-like sonorities that result are most 
                  impressive and a reminder, if it were needed, that this is a 
                  choir of considerable talent.
                
I nominated Passion 
                  Week as one of my discs of the year and I have to say the 
                  Nystedt will be high on my list as well. Not perhaps as totally 
                  absorbing and emotionally charged as the Grechaninov but no 
                  one can deny it is choral writing of rare beauty and intensity. 
                  The booklet isn’t terribly informative and, a minor caveat, 
                  I don’t much care for the fact that it’s attached to the gatefold 
                  box – very awkward. But that really is the tiniest of quibbles; 
                  otherwise this is a wonderful collection and one that I hope 
                  to revisit again and again, with undiminished pleasure.
                
Dan Morgan