'Should we gawp or genuflect?' - 12.07.04

[Review: St. Paul’s Cathedral] Hilary Finch: 12 July 2004, The Times.

A long Russian Orthodox liturgy of Vespers and Matins was contracted into 75 minutes, yet seemed to fill an infinity of space when an aptly named and newly formed choir called Tenebrae appeared for the first time in St Paul’s Cathedral as part of the City of London Festival. There was every bit as much prayer as performance: Rachmaninov’s heartfelt setting of the Vespers and matins was preceded by a very Anglican prayer from the pulpit, and supplemented throughout with litanies, exclamations, psalms and prayers from the Orthodox tradition. Should we cross ourselves, or clap our hands? Should we gawp or genuflect? What could have been an uneasy crossbreed of Russian soul and English sopranos turned out to be just what Tenebrae’s conductor and artistic director, Nigel Short, wanted. This former King’s Singer succeeded in connecting the prose and the passion: his 34 singers fused minutely controlled precision of rhythm and timbre with a red-blooded resonance which reverberated all the way round the dome and back again.

Look at the list of voices, and you could see why. There was Robert Johnston, magnificent as the dark-hued tenor of Nunc dimittis, departing in peace above the hushed oscillation of sopranos, tenor and true deep basses. There was the alto Frances Bourne, praising the Lord with all her soul as she propelled Rachmaninov’s second canticle up St Paul’s long central aisle. And there was the soprano Anna Dennis, burnishing the ardour of invocation.

The choir’s voices had radiated forward from the West door. And, although Rachmaninov’s voice groups were not placed at different points around the cathedral as promised, the special variegation within the music itself was splendidly recreated by the fluctuations of dynamic and colour within the choir.

The Deacon was peter Scorer, in dialogue with Tenebrae in Rachmaninov’s Great Litany, and chanting Psalm 63 in English. Our souls thirsted, our flesh yearned – and suddenly a dancing carillon of voices pealed out their Alleluias of praise. Folk song seemed to animate the Gloria; resurrection was celebrated in long, hovering vowels, temporarily free from any earthly harmonic roots.

Finally, after a solemn blessing from the Deacon, a great cry of “Rejoice, Thou Bride Unwedded” as we heard garlanded voices greet the dawn.

4.5 stars.