Talk by Mark Tucker: A lost 
          art - Monteverdi, music and classical rhetoric
        Monteverdi Tenor Duets
          Mark Tucker & Lynton Atkinson, tenors David Roblou, 
          harpsichord
        Monteverdi Selva morale and 
          more - Monteverdi's church music
        
          Open rehearsal for concert
        Talk by Andrew Carwood: He 
          didn't only write the Vespers
          Concert: The Cardinal's Musick/Andrew Carwood
        And God said, Let there 
          be lights (Genesis Chapter 14) The 
          Art Bible, George Newnes
         
        South Bank's audiences have a healthy appetite 
          for instruction, and this Monteverdi study weekend was a notable success, 
          with Jonathan Miller's new take on Orfeo sold out on the Saturday 
          (rehearsal and performance) and the Sunday events, starting at noon, 
          very well attended. 
        The quality of the lectures and of the music-making 
          was high, but my reactions to the day as a whole were mixed; there seemed 
          to be mixed motivations at work. 
        Andrew Carwood described the revolution in church 
          music which Monteverdi spearheaded in Italy, building upon the ideas 
          of Giaches de Wert, his predecessor in Mantua, who introduced "choral 
          recitative", a forerunner of opera. Following a time in which in which 
          musical elaboration and counterpoint rendered detailed meanings of texts 
          for liturgical choral settings to a very secondary place, Monteverdi 
          developed a flexible way of setting secular and sacred texts, for smaller 
          forces, with many solos and duets, and emphasis on mood and word painting, 
          to be illustrated in the evening concert. 
        Most rewarding of all was the revelatory talk 
          by Mark Tucker; too concentrated for note-taking, so I hope it will 
          be published. He traced the manners of singing texts from the Greeks 
          of antiquity through to Brecht. Tucker emphasized how totally driven 
          by words and their expression was Monteverdi, who developed specific 
          modes of word setting, Concitato for agitation, Molle for pure singing 
          and an intermediate Temperato; consonants articulated with Tau, 'Apollo's 
          plectrum'. Tucker opined that it was essential that Monteverdi be sung 
          in the original Italian, with translations (over-titles for the operas) 
          to help audiences. His presentation was exemplary; an informal, conversational 
          manner, made possible by perfectly adjusted amplification whilst he 
          spoke; copious sung examples of each point he made, accompanied by David 
          Roblou. For the first time it left me able to articulate and understand 
          why it is that a work like Orfeo, constituted mainly of recitative 
          with simple accompaniment, holds the attention for long spans and is 
          never boring. 
        But the concerts inhabited a different world, 
          "atmospheric", so I was assured. For the duets, Mark Tucker had provided 
          more than two pages of closely argued analytic notes discussing each 
          piece; seven pages of text were provided, with translations, in the 
          £3 programme. But what we got, without warning, was a "show", with blue 
          and orange illumination on stage and near total darkness in the auditorium, 
          despite an angry shout from within the audience "can we have some light!" 
          It is an excellent show, given by memory and in Italian, of course, 
          by two excellent and well matched tenors, with all the moods and quips 
          in the texts mimed for our benefit to give some impression of what it 
          was all about; they also moved around the gangways and even sat amongst 
          the audience to sing from the back. We had a few of the delicious duets 
          from Monteverdi's seventh book of madrigals, and scenes from Poppea 
          and Ulysses (Tucker and Atkinson even swapping the role of Ulysses himself 
          to add to the confusion!). Enormously frustrating, even though - it 
          must be admitted - the audience as a whole seemed perfectly happy in 
          the dark (at Wigmore Hall vocal recitals one can observe that many listeners 
          don't follow the words in their programmes).
        A complaint afterwards was received with understanding 
          - an explanation that the singers had wanted "atmosphere", but acceptance 
          that the needs of the patrons should be of prime concern, with a promise 
          that the problem would be rectified for the evening concert of church 
          music. That was forgotten, and Andrew Carwood's black uniformed musicians 
          appeared before us brilliantly lit, the audience in pitch darkness. 
          After a few items dim light was restored, enough to reach the doors 
          safely, but not sufficient to refer to Andrew Carwood's detailed notes 
          on the individual items during platform re-arrangements, nor to follow 
          the five closely typed pages of texts and translations whilst listening 
          to this mostly unfamiliar music. 
        The music is marvellous; the performances were 
          good. It had been a long day; we departed at the interval. 
        Many potential concert-goers are alienated by 
          the control of the audience effected by ancillary, and usually unidentified, 
          'experts' and 'event managers', who think they know what we like and 
          need. We hesitate to attend live performances of Indian classical music 
          (which we love) because of the prevalence of excessive amplification; 
          concert performances of operas in foreign languages are often given 
          in relative darkness, leaving purchasers of expensive programmes to 
          read them afterwards, and 'lighting designers' are as likely to cause 
          somnolence as 'atmosphere' by their efforts; audiences are never asked 
          whether they might prefer light to this sort of manipulation. 
        Carwood's rehearsal with The Cardinals, in informal 
          garb and normal lighting, was infinitely more rewarding than the concert; 
          if Mark Tucker and Lyndon Atkinson (marvellous singers both, and in 
          perfect accord) had appeared likewise, stayed up on the platform and 
          just sung those fantastic duets whilst we followed the printed texts, 
          our own imaginations would have supplied all the "atmosphere" anyone 
          could want. And for the sacred music (which Carwood urged should be 
          given in regular church services) there is no historical precedent for 
          plunging congregations into darkness. 
        Let there be light!
        Peter Grahame Woolf