Trust not too much

Think about it.  Give yourself 30 seconds, and diagnose a problem.  And give me a solution.  Well.  More for me, really.

I've all but let go of writing recently.  They say when will you write again, they say where was that review of Star Wars?  They say isn't it a shame.  They even said you should write a book.

I always wrote as if I was in the centre of a narrative.  My life had a direction, even if I didn't know what it was, because things were happening that were taking me to different places.  Now, not so much.  Or at least, I don't really see it that way any more.  I came to realise that all of my problems were the same problems that everyone faces, give or take, rather than to try and frame it into a narrative where I overcome various challenges as set by some malevolent deity (or Choirmaster), and enjoy a moral and societal feeling of justification.

I had to down tools about 8 months ago, as I thought that things had gotten a little too close for comfort really.  It was impossible to talk about problems without maintaining the usual veneer of almost respectable semi-anonymity, which then got in the way of basically everything else that I wanted to do.  Once upon a time I had grand designs for a fortnightly schedule, but because of one thing or another, I let it go.  Creativity took a back seat to, well, I don't know, the abyss.  My obsession with long form also doesn't help, but neither did the nagging feeling that I was wasting my time with people in particular.  It's not just institutions that close their ranks, after all.  

There's also something about regular work that's upset the ship slightly, but the massive increase in salary and disposable income must make up for that, surely?  (You are not your bank account)  But surely, the major flaws of data entry and answering the telephone leaves me with little in the way of feelings of accomplishment; I regularly attend admin "team" meetings (because everything is a team these days - not a kitchen but a catering team, not a choir but a music team &c &c) where I bring up that really anyone could answer the phone and unjam the photocopier (actually it seems I'm almost the only one who can), only to be told that no I am valued and a special unique snowflake that they couldn't do without and it really doesn't ring true.  It's okay to have someone employed as the monkey who answers the phone, but not okay to make it seem any more than that.

Anyway.  It's about time I came back, somehow.  It's boring, not writing.  And I hate being bored.

The Human Torch was denied a bank loan

Ok, hands up everyone - who exactly went to see the new Fantastic Four movie?  There has to be more than just me?  I went on the 8th of August, and at the Truro Plaza's screen 1 there must have been oh no more than could be counted on the fingers of two hands.

Is this the first sign of the Superhero film business bubble bursting?  That at last, after Hugh Jackman's rise to fame and fortune as the immortal Wolverine, a character so unkillable that in order to finish him off in print they had to encase him in the same unbreakable metal bonded to his very bones (blah blah) (but for how long?) the dream is over?  To be honest... Probably not.  It might be the end to anything not produced by either Warner Brothers or Disney though, except perhaps for the ever-rolling tide of X-Men sequels and spin-offs.  Let's get things straight, I don't actually think this film is as bad as a lot of other reviews have suggested; I didn't at any point consider walking out and asking for a refund, for example... But I wouldn't blame anybody else if they chose to.

Vox's incredible assault on the film is a worthwhile and illuminating read, alongside Wired's short list that reads like a first draft for one of my favourite YouTube channels, Cinema Sins (and I seriously can't wait for his assessment of this sad waste of opportunity).  A common thread through even the most damning of pieces is that it shouldn't have been this bad.  Opening reports were terrible enough, with people somehow flipping their lids over the fact that Johnny Storm is NOW A BLACK MAN I mean come on guys how many of you cared that the only evidence I could see in the film for Ben Grimm's Jewishness is a single menorah on a bookcase in his family home (the self animated Golem?), and the strange reports that their infamous antagonist would start his fictional life out as a hacker... Right.  So this is going to be different off the bat (naturally, everything is ruined forever), but fingers crossed, yeah?  No.

It's unfair to call this film a trainwreck, but only because it doesn't actually build any momentum.  Like an ancient train engine struggling up the side of a mountain, it stuggles inch by inch before at last the traction fails and it slips, leaving us thankful that it hadn't got high enough to cause any damage.  The opening sequences show some muted promise, and the first of several bad Star Wars references rears its ugly and impossible-to-tell-if-intentional head, with the young Luke Skywalker finally getting to Tosche Station for that power converter, uhhhh, I mean Reed Richards at the Grimm family junkyard looking for a... Oh.  A power converter.  By this point, we have already met our first major villain - the class teacher, whose disbelief in the accomplishments of Richards (and subsequently Grimm) border on cartoonish, decrying their device at a School Science Fair as nothing more or less than a cheap magic trick.  Victory by demoralisation!  Hurrah!  We eventually meet the rest of the main players, Franklin and Susan Storm, the latter this time adopted and toting the now-ubiquitous Samsung cell phone.  There's plenty of hefty stereotyping being thrown about: Richards is the nerd, Grimm the silent but strong type, Johnny as the hot headed rebel (foreshadowing!), and Sue as the girl... I want to say something clever about her being quiet enough to go unnoticed here (more foreshadowing lololol), but can't seem to work up the required effort (much like the film itself).  Then we meet Victor von Doom (von dooooooooooom), a bearded loner who has some kind of shady past including sabotaging data servers, a stalker-esque attraction to Sue, who lives in an orgy of evidence that he is in fact a computer genius, and seems to be controlling everything with his eye.  Skip!

Amazingly, this is all still the 'good bit', and we gradually uncover that the government want to use the dimesion hopping research to find new energy sources blah blah blah some kind of soft environmental message is shoehorned in here.  When the suits come down and tell the gang that their taking over after sending the worst CGI chimpanzee test subject I have ever seen (seriously, they could have just filmed a fucking chimp's face for the screen, and then have like a hairy cushion or something for the two seconds we see them carry it back and forth to the pod HONESTLY) as an "organic matter test", the male main characters get drunk and decide to automate a run so they can be first, following an interesting little speech from Doom (doooooooom) about how we all know Neil Armstrong's name, but not the names of the people that actually were responsible in getting him to the Moon.  Spoiler alert, everything starts out okay and then it all goes wrong, as Doom (doooooooooooooooom) dips his hand into glowing green goop on the alien planet/dimension and ultimately gets sucked in (by like, a thing?  Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within has much to answer for), and bizarrely specific accidents happen to the others, and a wave passes through Sue upon the capsule's return (who saw that coming?).  The aftermath of this crash is possibly the best part of the film, with some deftly handled body horror: Terrifying limbs, a pile of rocks mewling for help and a man on fire.

Rather than spend time exploring this in any detail, the film serves us a "1 year later" placeholder, where we fast forward to a few training montages, and the unsurprising sight that Ben Grimm has become the darling of the US Armed Forces. Notably one of these scenes from the trailer is missing, alongside several more no doubt, that one where the air-drop The Thing ("How long until he's in?"), but I digress.  They obviously cut that one because Reed and Sue are smiling, and SMILING IS NOT ALLOWED IN THIS MOVIE.  Another classic example of the film being dark and brooding merely through being shot in low light (Batman I'm looking at you).  I honestly found it difficult to pay attention to the rest of the film, really.  There was a cool moment when Reed used his rubber powers to change his face, but then there's a hilariously terrible bit with stretchy limbs after - I mean, just how practical are these powers in reality?  Being a rock monster is pretty obvious, as is being able to set yourself on fire and fly, and be invisible... But stretching?  Whatever.  Some badly artificed drama about Ben not forgiving Reed for leaving is stuffed in but then completely forgotten by the end "battle" and final scenes.

At some point they bring Doom (doooooooooooooooom) back for the seemingly pre-requisite final battle, and Jesus Christ the effects are dreadful.  Having fused to his spaceman-container suit, he also glows with green energy, and glowing green eyes (which barely ever match up to where his eyes should be, looking vaguely disturbing but mostly crap), he goes on a murder rampage blowing up heads like Tetsuo Shima (Tetsuooooo!  Kanedaaaaa!), eventually causing the death of old Franklin Richards, whose last words might as well be "There is... another... Skywalker" (jeez seriously), and then they troll off for the showdown on 'Planet Zero', against a Doom (dooooooooooooooooooooooom) who looks more like a cheap knock-off Stormtrooper figure than ever (you know those really big ones made out of shitey plastic at Pound shops), throwing out cliched dialogue and random phrases.  Even Ben's "It's clobberin' time!" is robbed of any power due to the zero character development (we hear his bullying older brother use it at the start of the film once.  That's it), as the assembled heroes win the day and save Baton Rouge errrrr the World from further destruction.  Poor Louisiana.  Roll credits.

{~"~}

I think I've enjoyed recalling the plot to kick it about more than actually having watched it.  The film's greatest sin is that it's actually just simply very boring.  Thick with cliche, badly paced and lacklustre effects, almost zero excitement past a few opening flourishes, where characters showed chance of becoming fully formed... But no.  No, no, no.  We may never know what weird horror-character piece the director had in mind initially, as it seems obvious there's been more hands to this than perhaps there should be (reshoots by different directors is a persistent rumour), missing scenes from trailers, and also the fact that it's only 92 minutes lending credence to the idea that an entire act's worth of material is missing from somewhere... Oh I don't know.  

However, the most memorable episode of my entire visit was... this.  I missed the first twenty or so seconds of it, so just sat down thinking this was a car becoming a bigger car... But no.  No.  No no no no no.  If you've ever wondered where Transformers come from, well, this isn't a good start.  The advert left me feeling strange, a state of total unease that doubtless coloured my interpretation of the film... Or something.  But seriously guys... *shudder*

Come Clap Thy Hands

I'm closing the Asylum down for a little while.  I like to think it's for repairs, just like the Cathedral and the north side of the nave roof.  Yes, imagine that, a whole load of scaffold up around my head; whole wings lay in ruins, hardly any of the lights work and various doors either won't open or close depending on where they are and who's behind them.

I'm tired, I suppose.  I know I'm upset about the end of the year as well, before anyone points it out for me, especially as it feels particularly abrupt this year - just so many things have happened: Filming 9 Lessons and Carols alongside the usual packed Christmas timetable, audio recordings in January, Come and Sing, the termly concerts with their own highs and lows (Less than half the Cathedral full on a Friday night?  Thoughtless errors in the Durufle Requiem?!), this year's CD followed swiftly by the broadcast... It's been a packed schedule.  Maybe you as audience may scoff at this - perhaps you are part of a choir that does this every year so it's in your stride?  Maybe you have a full time job and demanding home life?  Or maybe you have no idea why this sounds like a lot?  Who knows.  I know that as we reached and somehow survived this last hurrah... I just feel knackered.  I'm worn through and burnt out really; not so much burning the candle at both ends as throwing the whole candle into the fire.  

So, like I say, the place is going to close for a little bit.  If anybody catches me publishing anything before the 6th of September then, then... I don't know, some arbitrary measure of punishment ought to be involved.  Seven weeks ought to be good enough.  Did you know there's a difference between saying something doesn't matter and saying something isn't important?  Amazing.  But I digress.  I used to write about how much it upset me that I didn't fit in: Humanity is still essentially a herd animal - social but ultimately stupid and dangerous in large numbers.  After a modicum of success I once again feel pretty much the same, so I guess this is my get out post for now though - there's just so much bullshit I've decided that the best option now is to down tools and shut the doors - there are battles here that I will never win, ever, and trying to fight on terms other than my own is destroying what's left of me.  Sometimes I feel like the monomaniacal Ahab, hell-bent on his own destruction... Although having thought about who or what my own white whale would be, and what sort of short-sighted offence might be taken, I should say no more on it.

I wonder whether I have left bridges unburnt merely for the sake of it?  I've never felt so inadequate in all my life, said I, before processing up for Evensong... But that's for another time, I suppose.  Frankly, I feel more and more that I have been treated increasingly as a commodity: enough is enough.  That my opinions are increasingly invalid; that my decisions are easy to overturn, or are simply incorrect in the first place; that I am at others' convenience, and that alone; that I may be cancelled, and cancelled on; that simply, it does not matter.  Good for answering your questions, but not much else.  Maybe if I tear enough down, tear it all down, maybe I can build something better.  Yes!  Build a better asylum, build a better mousetrap, build a better me.  Such lofty aspirations.  

There are some good things to come out of all this dread though, in a way.  I now look after a tiny little doglet person, a Golden Retriever puppy of gradually increasing age,size and appetite.  Odds are that nobody would ever have thought I'd be a dog person, in fact probably not any kind of animal at all person but there we go - a change really is as good as a rest.  In a way, he acts like a little Emotional Support Animal, what with me being "on the spectrum" and all (before any of you clever dicks out there say it first), and that I have had no more fun this year so far than chasing this tiny dog around the house and garden, and taking him out and gradually introducing him to the world at large.  He may not strictly be my dog... But when I have custody of him he is my responsibility, and what I say goes.  I've taken to carrying the treat pouch around with me now, to encourage him to behave better (especially at road sides), which garnered me the strange but (probably deserved) compliment that I was "like a proper daddy", which filled me with an as yet unknown sense of pride.

I suppose I'm angry as well.  Maybe it's all misplaced, or totally unwarranted or even unjustified, but that's neither here nor there.  I really need to get my life in order for a really quite substantial change (no, I'm not moving away... But I can't help but think perhaps I missed an opportunity, but actually I do have promises to keep after all), and relieving myself of any guilt of having not posted anything is as much a part of it as anything else.  I am in a time of change, as always at the end of an academic year, and as old totems finally crumble from sheer age I don't really know how to replace them - I am unsure and feel almost totally alone.

None of this rage will matter next year though, as I will finally have a job and money and maybe even some status to go along with them.  Maybe people will finally like me!  I crack myself up... Ah, once upon a time, while I still thought that killing myself was a valid and morally reasonable option, I joked about how I would take so long writing a suicide note that would encompass all my feelings of being wronged and why I ought to leave this mortal plane that I would become too engrossed in the actual note itself, inadvertently saving my own life.  It was at that moment, I knew it was a writer's life for me!  All laughter aside though, wouldn't it be boring if I died?  I can't stand being bored myself, and I'm sure plenty of people would be even more bored if it wasn't for me, so I'll be sticking around for a while.  Anyway, I'd have nothing to complain about!  Even at the gallows, one's sense of humour is still important.

I'll leave you with a real joke for now; I think Rorschach said it best...

"I heard joke once: Man goes to doctor.  Says he's depressed.  Life seems harsh, and cruel.  Says he feels all alone in threatening world.  Doctor says: "Treatment is simple.  The great clown - Pagliacci - is in town.  Go see him.  That should pick you up."  Man bursts into tears.  "But doctor..." he says "I am Pagliacci."

Good joke.  Everybody laugh.  Roll on snare drum.  Curtains." 

Come then, and clap thy hands.  

In Paradisum - Truro Cathedral Choir Summer Concert, Saturday 20th June 20

PROGRAMME

  

The Truro Evening Canticles – Russell Pascoe (b 1960)

The Beatitudes – Arvo Pärt (b 1935)

Mother of God, here I stand – John Tavener (1944-2014)

Elegy – George Thalben-Ball (1896-1987)

Soloist: Luke Bond (organ)

Funeral Ikos – John Tavener

Herzliebster Jesu – Gabriel Jackson (b 1962)

Soloist: Luke Bond (organ)

Nunc Dimittis – Gustav Holst (1874-1934)

Soloists: James Lansdowne (treble) and Peter Thomson (tenor)

INTERVAL

Requiem – Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986)

Soloists: Jacob Dennison and Nicholas Hawker

1 Introitus

2 Kyrie

3 Domine Jesu Christe

4 Sanctus

5 Pie Jesu

6 Agnus Dei

7 Lux æterna

8 Libera me

9 In Paradisum

WORDS AND PROGRAMME NOTES

The Truro Evening Canticles – Russell Pascoe

Cornish composer Russell Pascoe was commissioned to write this set of evening canticles for the Cathedral Choir, which were broadcast live as part of Choral Evensong on BBC Radio 3 on the 17th of April, 2013. 

Pascoe chooses to set the Magnificat as a great song of praise, rather than in the more introspective style particularly characteristic of Herbert Howells, full of exciting syncopation and the use of quick changes of time signature to shift the pattern of strong and weak beats in both the music and words, often over a short phrase.  He confidently mixes tonal and modal harmonies alongside sometimes unexpected rhythms and free repetition of the words, always maintaining a sense of surging momentum, with the fully independent organ part adding sudden flourishes that leap out from the texture. The Gloria takes us briefly to another world entirely, one where there is a majestic timelessness. This world is one inhabited by Arvo Pärt and John Tavener whose music is greatly influenced by the Orthodox Church. For the opening of the Gloria, with its drone bass underpinning a strong melody with embellishments, Pascoe had in mind the eyes of an icon (like the Virgin of Tenderness of Vladimir in the Cathedral) staring out and requiring a response.

The Nunc Dimittis is much darker in tone, starting with the basses of the choir over a low organ drone, again evoking an atmosphere of the Orthodox Church. The texture gradually builds over the course of the words, which are not repeated. The canticle ends triumphantly, with a grand climax leading straight into a reworking of the majestic Gloria from the end of the Magnificat, the organ accompaniment far more embellished than before.

My soul doth magnify the Lord : and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he hath regarded : the lowliness of his handmaiden.

For behold, from henceforth : all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty hath magnified me : and holy is his Name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him : throughout all generations.

He hath shewed strength with his arm : he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat : and hath exalted the humble and meek.

He hath filled the hungry with good things : and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel : as he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Luke 1.46-55, lesser doxology

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace : according to thy word.

For mine eyes have seen : thy salvation,

Which thou hast prepared : before the face of all people;

To be a light to lighten the Gentiles : and to be the glory of thy people Israel.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Luke 2.29-32, lesser doxology

The Beatitudes – Arvo Pärt

One of only three works composed by Arvo Pärt in English, this setting of Jesus’s “Sermon on the Mount” from Matthew's Gospel is an excellent example of the Estonian composer's “tintinnabuli” style, the name of which comes from the Latin for “bell”, that he established for himself in the 1970s. This style is characterised by the use of two voices, the first being the “tintinnabular” which jumps around the notes of a tonic triad, and the second a voice that moves by step. This often produces a curious texture of parts constantly crossing over each other; the trebles and tenors have the tintinnabular voice, with wide leaps, contrasting with the altos and basses, who move in contrary motion with each other (where one part goes up the other goes down, in relation to the tonal centre). Pärt’s genius lies in making what could so easily be dry compositional techniques into music of immense emotional power. 

The choir enter on a discord, and the sentences of the scripture are punctuated by silence, before being joined discreetly by an underpinning organ pedal. The piece gradually moves higher through the choir's range, building a kind of devotional intensity while the pedal holds beneath the voices until the colossal “Amen”, when the organ suddenly bursts into life concluding the piece with a fantasia, indicative of the blessings of heaven that await the faithful. The organ fantasia gradually falls in pitch, returning to the original key of the opening; not only do the choir parts mirror themselves in their pairs, but the piece itself is a harmonic mirror, reflected through the “Amen”, that great declaration of affirmation.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

Amen.

Matthew 5.3-12

Mother of God, Here I stand – John Tavener

This simple, hymn-like setting is the opening anthem of John Tavener's The Veil of the Temple, a work that lasts over seven hours in its entirety and is performed overnight, much like Rachmaninov's All-night Vigil, commonly known as his Vespers. The text is a setting of the first two verses of Mikhail Lermontov's A Prayer Poem, translated by Mother Thekla, with whom Tavener shared an exceptionally close relationship, acting at times as librettist, spiritual advisor and even counsellor to the composer. 

The text is imbued with a simple honesty, the poet offering his prayers to the Mother of God not for himself in any way, but for “her alone”, reflected in the sustained phrases which repeat the same musical material for every two lines of text, focussing the devotional nature of the prayer. The end of each phrase features exceptionally low bass notes, common in the music of the Eastern Orthodox Church, laying a harmonic foundation like the pedal stops of an organ.

Mother of God, here I stand now praying,

Before this ikon of your radiant brightness,

Not praying to be saved from a battlefield;

Not giving thanks, nor seeking forgiveness for the sins of my soul, nor for all the souls

Numb, joyless and desolate on earth; but for her alone, whom I wholly give you...

Mikhail Lermontov, trans. Mother Thekla

Elegy – George Thalben-Ball

This Elegy, arguably Thalben-Ball's most recognisable piece, started life as an improvisation after a BBC broadcast during the Second World War when the service itself unexpectedly ended a few minutes early. So many listeners phoned the BBC to find out what piece he was in fact playing, Thalben-Ball decided to transcribe it as best he could remember. It is dedicated to Thalben-Ball's predecessor at the Temple, Sir Henry Walford Davies, and is reminiscent of the older organist's Solemn Melody, following a similar structure of a quiet opening statement that builds to a climax before returning to a subdued ending. The score notes that the first statement of this tune must have a “cello quality”, but no other registration instructions are given throughout, fitting its improvisational origins. This simple, dignified and never overly sentimental piece may well have been an affectionate tribute to Walford Davies, who died in 1941. 

Funeral Ikos – John Tavener

Written in 1981, this sets words from the Order for the Burial of Dead Priests from the Greek Orthodox liturgy.  Unfamiliar to most of us, it shows the frank and honest approach towards physical death, but that it does not diminish the souls of the righteous.

The long chanted lines, moving from unison to three parts and back again, coupled with the “Alleluia” refrain give the piece a meditative atmosphere, and help this delicate and deeply religious Ikos to move past being just music and words, and become more of an idea in and of itself – although performed out of context here, it echoes the message in The Beatitudes that heaven awaits the righteous but is beyond a veil of suffering and physical death, and that if we truly believe and keep faith we will find heaven. The text also touches on many aspects outside the funeral itself: the grief of feeling abandonment, loss, doubt, and fear of the unknown. Ultimately, the text points to closure; not just for the souls of the dying, but also the living who survive them, allowing them to move on and look to their faith: “Let us all, also, enter into Christ, that all we may cry aloud thus unto God: Alleluia”.

Why these bitter words of the dying, O brethren, which they do utter as they go hence?  I am parted from my brethren.  All my friends do I abandon, and go hence.  But whither I go, that understand I not, neither what shall become of me yonder; only God, who hath summoned me knoweth.  But make commemoration of me with the song: Alleluia.

But whither now go the souls?  How dwell they now together here?  This mystery have I desired to learn, but none can impart aright.  Do they call to mind their own people, as we do them?  Or have they forgotten all those who mourn them and make the song: Alleluia.

We go forth on the path eternal, and as condemned, with downcast faces, present ourselves before the only God eternal.  Where then is comeliness?  Where then is wealth?  Where then is the glory of this world?  There shall none of these things aid us, but only to say oft the psalm: Alleluia.

If thou hast shown mercy unto man, O man, that same mercy shall be shown thee there;and if on an orphan thou hast shown compassion, the same shall there deliver thee from want.  If in this life the naked thou hast clothed, the same shall give thee shelter there, and sing the psalm: Alleluia.

Youth and the beauty of the body fade at the hour of death, and the tongue then burneth fiercely, and the parched throat is inflamed.  The beauty of the eyes is quenched then, the comeliness to the face all altered, the shapeliness of the neck destroyed; and the other parts have become numb, nor often say: Alleluia.

With ecstasy are we inflamed if we but hear that there is light eternal yonder; that there is Paradise, wherein every soul of Righteous Ones rejoiceth.  Let us all, also, enter into Christ, that we all we may cry aloud thus unto God: Alleluia.

From The Order for the Burial of Dead Priests, trans. Isabel Hapgood

Herzliebster Jesu – Gabriel Jackson

Commissioned as part of The Orgelbüchlein Project, this chorale prelude was first performed by William Whitehead at The Passiontide Festival held at Merton College, Oxford, on 31st of March 2012. This project seeks to 'complete' Johann Sebastian Bach's Orgelbüchlein (Little Organ Book), which out of a total of 164 chorales for liturgical use throughout the church year saw only 46 completed by Bach at the time of his death, leaving 118 chorales either unfinished or entirely unwritten. Modern composers have been invited to contribute by either picking up where Bach left off or by creating an original composition, which will be collected and published alongside Bach's original preludes and published in one volume in 2017.

Gabriel Jackson finds inspiration from Bach in setting the chorale melody (a German hymn tune) in a solo voice in the right hand of the organ, while accompanied by left hand cluster chords and deep pedal notes underneath. While Jackson's melodic and rhythmic figures are beyond what Bach may have imagined or intended, the modern idiom is not so far removed from other decorated chorale melodies (such as O Mensch, bewein BWV 622), and the outline of the melody is well-preserved. The irregular rhythm in the accompanying parts promotes a sense of unease matching the dark undertones of the text, the first verse of which is printed here.

Herzliebster Jesu, was hast du verbrochen,

Daß man ein solch scharf Urteil hat gesprochen? Was ist die Schuld? In was für Missetaten Bist du geraten?

O dearest Jesus, what law hast Thou broken

That such sharp sentence should on Thee be spoken?

Of what great crime hast Thou to make confession,

What dark transgression?

Johann Heerman, trans Catherine Winkworth

Nunc Dimittis – Gustav Holst

Composed one hundred years ago, this unaccompanied Nunc Dimittis was commissioned by Richard Terry, then Organist of Westminster Cathedral. It received its liturgical première on Easter Sunday of 1915 as part of compline (which explains why there is no accompanying Magnificat), and almost completely disappeared thereafter. It was rediscovered in the 1970s by the composer's daughter Imogen, who revised it slightly ahead of its first 'modern' performance, given by the BBC Northern Singers as part of the 27th Aldeburgh Festival in 1974.

One of the most recognisable openings of any evening canticle setting, the eight parts enter one by one, holding “Nunc” until the full choir is singing. From this, Holst uses a great deal of techniques to vary the eight part texture constantly – renaissance inspired counterpoint gives way to full sections, antiphony not only between the first and second parts but also between the upper and lower voices, and two short but effective solos, sung by a treble and tenor. The piece culminates with a thrilling Gloria full of exciting counterpoint, ending with a sustained top A in the trebles that peals out, the final major chord instilling a sense of joy.

Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine, secundum verbum tuum in pace:

Quia viderunt oculi mei salutare tuum

Quod parasti ante faciem omnium populorum:

Lumen ad revelationem gentium, et gloriam plebis tuae Israel.

Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto,

Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen.

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace : according to thy word.

For mine eyes have seen : thy salvation,

Which thou hast prepared : before the face of all people;

To be a light to lighten the Gentiles : and to be the glory of thy people Israel.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Luke 2.29-32, lesser doxology

INTERVAL

Requiem – Maurice Duruflé

Born in 1902, Maurice Duruflé began his musical training at the age of ten, when his father enrolled him as a chorister at Rouen Cathedral, the choir of which was famous for singing entirely from memory until the time of the French Revolution. It is also the home of Jean Titelouze, recognized as the founder of the great French Organ School of composers. It was in this environment that the young Duruflé found his love of Gregorian Chant, on which much of his limited compositional output is based – only 14 opus numbers were published in total. The Requiem is a fusion of many disparate elements that Duruflé juxtaposes with incredible skill, making the melodies and modal flavour of Gregorian chant seem a natural match to the lush, almost impressionistic harmonies surrounding it.

The Requiem itself was possibly started as early 1941, but was not completed until 1947, when it was dedicated to the memory of his father, who had died that year. Initially conceived as a suite of solo organ pieces based on the chants for the Missa pro Defunctis (Mass for the Dead), it gradually expanded to this setting in nine movements for choir and orchestra, which Duruflé later reduced to choir and organ accompaniment, as it is performed tonight. (There is also a third version, accompanied by organ and chamber orchestra.)

The structure takes inspiration from Fauré's Requiem, and follows in its mood of dignified acceptance of death and confidence in God’s mercy. Amongst the dramatic moments are the massive 'Hosanna' in the Sanctus which gives listeners a vision of the gates of heaven, and the 'Dies irae, dies illa' that reminds us that God will come and judge the world by fire in the end of days. The solos in the third and eighth movements use the uppermost part of the range, providing a magisterial effect, particularly in the phrase “tu suscipe” in the third movement. Finally, in the sublime ending, the last moments of the In Paradisum itself, having seen heaven from afar, we are led by flights of angels as the choir and organ melt away into eternity.

I. Introit

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Te decet hymnus Deus in Sion, et tibi redetur votum in Jerusalem.

Exaudi orationem meam; ad te omnis caro veniet.

Rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them.

Thou, O God, art praised in Sion, and unto thee shall the vow be performed in Jerusalem:

Hear my prayer; all flesh shall come to thee.

II. Kyrie

Kyrie eleison.

Christe eleison.

Kyrie eleison.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

Christ, have mercy upon us.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

III. Domine Jesu Christe

Domine Jesu Christe, Rex gloriae,

libera animas omnium fidelium defunctorum de poenis inferni, et de profundo lacu:

Libera eas de ore leonis, ne absorbeat eas tartarus: ne cadant in obscurum.

Sed signifer sanctus Michael repraesentet eas in lucem sanctam,

Quam olim Abrahae promisisti, et semini ejus.

Hostias et preces tibi, Domine, laudis offerimus:

tu suscipe pro animabus illis quarum, hodie memoriam facimus. 

Fac eas, Domine, de morte transire ad vitam.

Quam olim Abrahae promisisti, et semini ejus.

O Lord Jesus Christ, King of glory,

deliver the souls of the departed from the pains of hell and the bottomless pit:

Deliver them from the lion’s mouth, lest hell devour them: may they not fall into darkness, but let Saint Michael, the standard bearer, lead them into the holy light,

which thou once promised to Abraham and his seed.

Sacrifices and prayers do we offer to thee, O Lord:

do thou accept them for those souls in whose memory we make this oblation.

Make them, O Lord, to pass from death to life,

which thou once promised to Abraham and his seed.

IV. Sanctus

Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth.

Pleni sunt cœli et terra gloria tua.

Hosanna in excelsis.

Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.

Hosanna in excelsis.

Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts.

Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory.

Blessed is he who cometh in the name of the Lord.

Hosanna in the highest.

V. Pie Jesu

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.

Dona eis sempiternam requiem.

Blessed Lord Jesus, grant them rest.

Grant them eternal rest.

VI. Agnus Dei

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem sempiternam.

O Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them rest.

O Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them rest eternal.

VII. Lux aeterna

Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine, cum sanctis tuis in aeternum: quia pius es.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Quia pius es.

Let light eternal shine upon them, O Lord: with thy saints for evermore: for thou art gracious.

Rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them.

For thou art gracious.

VIII. Libera me

Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna, in die illa tremenda:

Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra; Dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem.

Tremens factus sum ego, et timeo, dum discussio venerit, atque ventura ira.

Dies illa, dies irae, calamitatis et miseriae, dies magna et amara valde.

Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Deliver me, O Lord, from everlasting death in that fearful day:

When the heavens and earth shall be shaken; When thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.

I am in fear and trembling, until the sifting be upon us and the wrath to come.

That day, the day of wrath, calamity and misery, the great day of exceeding bitterness.

Rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them.

IX. In Paradisum

In paradisum deducant Angeli, in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres,

et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem.

Chorus Angelorum te suscipiat,

et cum Lazaro quondam paupere aeternam habeas requiem.

May the Angels lead thee into Paradise, and the Martyrs receive thee at thy coming

and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.

May the choir of Angels receive thee, and mayest thou,

with Lazarus once poor, have everlasting rest.

Missa pro Defunctis

Programme notes by Paul-Ethan Bright

Truro Cathedral Choir

Truro Cathedral has had a choir of boys and men since it was consecrated in 1887. The current team of eighteen boy choristers and twelve gentlemen sings at six services each week during term time as well as at the major services around Christmas and Easter. They also undertake regular concerts, broadcasts, webcasts, foreign tours and CD recordings.

In recent years the choir has performed live on BBC1 as well as making recordings for BBC1’s Songs of Praise programme and a BBC2 documentary The Truth about Carols. There are regular live broadcasts on BBC Radio 3 and, in 2011, it became the first British cathedral choir to webcast a service. On Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs programme, Howard Goodall chose the choir’s recording of music by French composer Maurice Duruflé as his favourite disc.

Recent CD recordings have attracted praise from critics in the international classical press: “Inspirational singing from one of the top cathedral choirs in the land” (Organists’ Review); “The singing of the choir, set in the wonderful acoustic of Truro Cathedral, is beyond praise” (MusicWeb International); “They have a fresh, unforced sound and encompass with ease the bigger eight-part writing and unexpected harmonic progressions. It’s noticeable that the solo voices include five different boy choristers of equal accomplishment – a tribute to Gray’s expert training.” (Gramophone).

In addition to its commitments in Truro, the Choir has performed in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, France, Sweden, Italy, Spain and the USA.

A great deal of new music has been written specially for Truro Cathedral Choir by some of the UK’s top composers, among them David Bednall, David Briggs, Jonathan Carne, Paul Comeau, Paul Drayton, Graham Fitkin, Howard Goodall, Gabriel Jackson, James MacMillan, Russell Pascoe, Howard Skempton and Philip Stopford.

The eighteen boy choristers are all educated at Polwhele House School. They rehearse every day before school for at least 45 minutes. On most weekdays they come straight from school to the Cathedral where they do their homework before rehearsing for another 40 minutes and singing a service at 5.30 pm. They sing two further services on Sundays.

The boys are joined by twelve gentlemen who sing the alto, tenor and bass parts. Seven are Lay Vicars who are based permanently here in Cornwall. Five are Choral Scholars who come from various parts of the UK and further afield to spend their gap years singing with our renowned choir. There is also an Organ Scholar. All organise their lives, work and holidays around the choir’s busy schedule of commitments.

Truro Cathedral supports three other choirs which provide singing opportunities for boys and girls aged 7 to 18, as well as adults. A separate team of girl Choristers, in the age range 13 to 18, will join Truro Cathedral Choir next September. Full details can be found on the Cathedral’s website.

Truro Choral Society's Tippett A Child of our Time

A rather introspective programme was presented by Truro Choral Society and Truro Symphony Orchestra, a Rachmaninov first half followed by Michael Tippett’s secular oratorio, A Child of Our Time.

The choir opened with Bogoroditse Devo, the last movement of Rachmaninov’s famous Vespers, a setting of Ave Maria. This first item was conducted by Truro Cathedral’s organ scholar, James Orford, making his directorial debut. The chorus were supported by the string section, giving the sound an extra luminosity. Orford’s simple yet definite conducting allowed the music to speak for itself without any fussiness unbecoming of the piece, while the choir’s diction of the Russian text spoke well into the Cathedral acoustic.

All change at the front for the second item, Rachmaninov’s C minor second Piano Concerto, as Martin Palmer took the stand alongside the soloist, Paul Comeau. While the second movement is probably the most familiar (a favourite of Classic FM Hall of Fame, no less), this performance showed us that the whole work is just as approachable – the opening Moderato: allegro finds the piano sounding out the deeps before the orchestra joins, more or less taking the spotlight away from the soloist before a majestic climax that restates the initial theme, taking us to the sparkling cadenza. Comeau was surely in his element here, at turns deftly maintaining his part in the orchestral texture, before blazes of sheer virtuosity, relayed throughout the Cathedral via the cameras so those further back wouldn’t miss out – a real delight!

The second movement, the Adagio sostenuto, was a super-smooth episode of pure romantic relaxation, with eloquent solos from flute and clarinet. The finale, the Allegro scherzando, allowed for more dramatic elements to surface, balanced by the lyricism of the orchestral woodwinds, before building tension considerably to the final cadenza – Comeau once again holding the attention of the entire Cathedral.

What elevated this performance, for me, was not just Comeau’s undeniably sublime playing, or Palmer’s well-mannered and sympathetic conducting, but the communication between the two of them, giving the concerto a calm, collected air. A rousing ovation followed, with plenty of well-deserved cheers for Comeau, a real local hero on Truro’s musical scene.

As the programme reminded us, A Child of Our Time "…can never be comfortable"; a deeply personal statement by the composer conceived as a musical protest. The atmosphere was electric from the opening chords, with Palmer’s clear direction inspiring the choir to come in confidently on some exceptionally difficult leads. The young team of soloists added to the mood, their voices commanding in their own right, yet blending well when together. The five Negro Spirituals were particularly moving, Steal Away as a stand-out triumph, with a beautiful, sustained tone from the soprano soloist.

While this concert’s programme was more inward-looking than one might usually expect from Truro Choral Society, they acquitted themselves with a dignity befitting the music during another evening of exciting music making.

By Paul-Ethan Bright

Published 18th of June for Truro Choral Society website

Published 22nd of June for the West Briton website

Eat it: Pork and mushrooms with a cyder vinegar jus

Something from the 'What can I get on the cheap and oh what's that in the fridge' school of thought.  The recipe as it stands will serve a supper for one.

INGREDIENTS

Two pork loin steaks/Pork chops off the bone       Fresh Rosemary       5 closed cup mushrooms       

Spring onions       Cyder Vinegar       Salt and Pepper       Three garlic cloves

METHOD

Sit the mushrooms so the domed part is facing upwards, slice them, and put them aside.  Skin and roughly chop the garlic, and put that by with the mushrooms as well.  Cut the root end off the onions and slice them length ways - I haven't specified how many because they slice down awfully thin, so feel free to have as much as you like.  Set these aside also, but separately.

Heat olive oil in a pan and throw in a few sprigs of rosemary while you season the pork with the salt, pepper and leaves of fresh rosemary.  When you have been sufficiently generous with your flavourings, fry the pork with the fatty edge on the side of the pan for 2 or 3 minutes on each side.  Once they've started to brown, take them out of the pan and put them in a warm place to rest - I put them on a side plate and in the smaller part of my oven on a low heat - you certainly don't want them to cook in any significant way at this stage now.  

Pour the mushrooms and garlic into the pan and turn the heat down slightly.  They will soak up the oil in the pan, so keep an eye on it so it doesn't stick too much, making sure the garlic doesn't catch.  After a few minutes of stirring, add the spring onions.  Once they've softened, pour in two tablespoons of Cyder vinegar, and deglaze the pan.  When the sauce is simmering merrily, get the pork back into the pan along with all the meat juices for another few minutes.

When you're ready to serve, set the pork aside and using a spoon, lay the vegetables on the pan.  I normally do so in a single bed in the middle of the plate, but do as you wish - if you want to arrange it in chevrons or a circle, be my guest.  Serve the pork on top, either whole or cut into thick slices, and pour the remaining sauce over.  Service!

#~#

This thing of taking the meat out before cooking the veg in the same pan is a really very simple thing but adds to the dish - you'll notice I even advise it for that stir fry I wrote up oh so long ago.  Resting the meat even ever so slightly allows the juices to stay in the meat preserving the flavour.  Although I don't need to tell you that, right?

NEXT WEEK on Asylum South West: I imagine what it's like to be in the worst play ever, why I let the other person talk sometimes, "Nischt farinteresirt", and why you shouldn't bother being nice to me.  Ever.