After the glory of Sound and Vision, we came back to earth with a clatter this week when we realised our next concert was only 10 days away. We’re singing Masses for double choir by Frank Martin and Kenneth Leighton. They’re both superb pieces, but pretty complicated and a complete change of style from our recent pop successes, so we’re working super-hard to polish them for performance.
Up to now I’ve been far keener on the Martin than the Leighton, but after a rehearsal devoted to Leighton and lots of listens to the recording, I’m really starting to understand the shape of the piece much more. Leighton was a master of counterpoint, and this mass is no exception. The Sanctus in particular is gorgeous, interweaving the voices in lyrical triplets. And just as it’s lulled us into a soothing false sense of security, in comes the hosanna with tricky crossing entries and changing time signatures to thoroughly wake us up again. The Agnus Dei ramps up the emotional tension, with beautiful solo lines set against the choir exploring its full dynamic range. I was briefly disconcerted when the soprano solo line ended with a jarring slide upwards, but that luckily turned out to be the sound of my train departing King’s Cross. The joys of the i-pod age. And if the music itself isn’t enough to fall in love with the mass, it’s dedicated to a man with the happy name of Herrick Bunney. Hurray!
We must have been struggling to make the change of style, however, because David-the-Conductor went off into ever more extravagant realms of imagery to get us to infuse expression into the music. And we duly came to life. The altos had a good go at being perverted. The basses were positively sinful. We all invoked the exact wave of terror you feel when you’re in a kebab shop and someone runs in and hits you on the head with a bottle and runs away. It was all very appropriate for a Mass setting. I’m not sure I’ll ever see church-going in the same way again.
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