Music: Three hours with the world’s best choir

The Swedish Radio Choir

Peter Dijkstra, director

Works of Einfelde, Sandström, Hillborg, Schnittke

Church of St. Mary of the Virgin, Manhattan

November 14, 2017

Beethoven: Missa Solemnis, op. 123 (1823)

The Swedish Chamber Orchestra

Swedish Radio Choir

Thomas Dausgaard, conductor

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center NYC

November 12, 2017 

Singing used to be a common form of social interaction, as in carols at parties, show tunes around the piano, etc. Given the drop in public school music and our lack of exposure to the unamplified singing human voice, I now wonder if anyone even sings in the shower. The exception to this void comes from the Lutheran and/or Scandinavian traditions, where singing is very much alive. In the US we see this in vital choral departments at places like St. Olaf’s College in Minnesota and by the robust choruses in many Lutheran churches, such as the bevy of talented young Lutheran musicians in the choir I sing in at the Church of the Holy Trinity by Central Park. Go to any such concert and you will likely see some Scandinavian surnames. It is therefore not surprising that some of the very best professional choral singing now arises from the Nordic countries (including Estonia); perhaps the best of these choruses was on display in Manhattan this week. The Swedish Radio Choir, founded in 1925 and conducted for 30 years by the legendary Eric Ericson (1918-2013) has unmatched technique and command over a wide repertory. Now conducted by Peter Dijkstra (who is Dutch, not Scandinavian), they performed wonderful concerts in two difficult contrasting Manhattan acoustics—the dry Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, and the too resonant Church of St. Mary the Virgin, yet adjusted to each and showcased the music to outstanding effect.

Sunday’s performance of  Beethoven’s daunting Missa Solemnis, using a 40 voice choir and 40 member orchestra, was a chamber-sized performance that still revealed the extreme range of dynamics and affect that the composer built into the music. A late piece, this mass summarized much of what Beethoven knew about counterpoint and older musical styles, yet fused these into a romantic storm-the-barricades piece that stretches conventional Christian theology.   By 1823 the mass had evolved from liturgical music for use during an actual service (e.g. Byrd, Josquin) to a more occasional piece too long for such worship, but used for ceremonial purposes like coronations and royal weddings (Haydn, Mozart). Interestingly, perhaps the two greatest “big” masses never were performed for such an occasion, or even for church. The 2½ hour Bach Mass in B minor is really an academic compilation of movements by Bach, often recycling greatest hits from his 200+ cantatas. It was likely never performed complete in Bach’s era, yet this “theoretical” piece is moving and extraordinary to hear now. In contrast, Beethoven’s 90-minute Missa Solemnis follows the Haydn model of through-composition. For example, rather than dividing the long Gloria and Credo liturgies up into small distinct pieces as Bach did, each of Beethoven’s movements becomes a long arc of 20 minutes with symphonic organization and titanic fugal climaxes. The piece was intended for the ordination of Beethoven’s patron the Archduke Rudolph as a catholic cardinal, but could not be completed in time, so never was performed for its intended purpose. I have sung this work, and can attest to its suprahuman range and technical demands on the chorus. In most performances there is a sort of sadistic joy in watching the performers struggle up Mt. Everest, with the process of getting there as fascinating as the mountain itself. Not so here. The chorus and orchestra were so in command of this music that I could concentrate on the piece alone. What was revealed was a true climax to Beethoven’s career, phenomenally challenging, yet without the near-psychotic experimentation of some of his other late works like the Grosse Fugue from the Quartet Op. 133. While the use of military flourishes and forte singing in the usually-reverent Agnus Dei (Lamb of God) was not new to Beethoven (Haydn did this in several of his late masses), Beethoven added a very romantic personal sense of striving and passion to this. Here the mass becomes not just a collective ritual worship, but an individual or collective demand for peace (Dona nobis pacem)—God as opponent. The titanic fugues that end the Gloria (In Gloria dei patris) and Credo (Et vitam venturi), nearly impossible to project clearly, were done so here, perhaps helped by the dryer acoustic, yet projected with thrilling dynamic range by this chorus. Conductor Dausgaard picked a nice balance of newer more “early music” brisk tempos and more traditional Beethoven storm-and-stress heaviness, devising a well-integrated performance. Bravi to all concerned!

The Tuesday night concert of a capella works from the 1980s and 90s was quite different. Each work was well chosen for the very resonant cathedral acoustic, resulting in four relatively slowly evolving pieces without much rhythm. While I would often find this sort of thing to be a new-age snorefest, the music here was well chosen and superbly articulated so that the 70 minute concert had adequate contrast. The most compelling piece was the 12-minute Mouyayoum (1985) by Swede Anders Hillborg. The wordless piece was fascinating with multiple vocal special effects (listen to the opening, e.g.) including multiple part divisions, lip trills, wide glissandos, and extreme dynamic range, but all adding up to a fascinating, spiritual whole. Dynamic contrast was achieved by using choral lip percussion in a way that evoked, but did not mimic Phillip Glass or John Adams’ minimalism. This was a truly distinctive piece, but only performable by the best ensembles. The night’s big piece was the Concerto for Choir (1984) by Russian Alfred Schnittke, a 40 minute four movement work that effectively integrated Russian Orthodox chant with modernist techniques. For example, as the men chanted in low range in the style of the Rachmaninoff Vespers, individual sopranos interjected with extraordinary high, brief notes and melody fragments. The whole concert was well integrated and magnificently performed. It was wonderful to see a full house of appreciative listeners for a very demanding concert of modernist a capella choral music; the chorus was ushered off with four rounds of ovations and two encores-- unidentified folk song-like pieces which were somewhat conservative compared to the concert pieces.