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July Issue, No. 3

CONCERT REVIEW: Artist’s Vocal Ensemble, Cantabile Chorale, Saringhimig Singers

Jonathon Hampton

I was originally going to title this comprehensive review, “Good, Better,
Best,” but it turned out that all three ensembles performed equally well, in
three different contexts. First, I heard the professionals of Artist’s Vocal
Ensemble (AVE) perform early music. Then there was Cantabile Chorale
performing Mozart and Pärt. Finally, I heard the Saringhimig Singers, who
just headed to British Columbia to compete with their array of Filipino folk
songs. There was lots of Latin in this lineup of reviews, so I say suum
cuique – to each his own.

Artist’s Vocal Ensemble (AVE) – June 6, 2006

There’s nothing worse than being late for a concert, except maybe the
apocalypse. In this case, though, the apocalypse was beautiful. Shortly
after the work whistle on 6/6/06, Jonathan Dimmock’s new group, Artists’
Vocal Ensemble (AVE) presented plainsongs and Renaissance motets
related to 14th century illuminated manuscripts from The Cloisters
Apocalypse. Performing at St. Mark’s Episcopal in Berkeley is a pleasure
to the singer’s ear, but the live acoustic makes things much brighter than
is evident to the singer. The 15 voices comprising the ensemble were
under-rehearsed, as is generally the case with professional choirs that
change up members each concert, so AVE didn’t have as much prep time
at St. Mark’s as needed to find the appropriate balance. As a result, the
tuning sometimes fluctuated, and the tenors and sopranos occasionally
over-powered the other parts (yes, I said tenors). However, for the most
part, the contemplative nature of the pieces was well preserved, allowing
for frequent and appropriately demonstrated moments of extraordinary
contrast.

Just as I imagined it would be, I walked in hearing a soaring soprano
plainsong solo. She effortlessly chanted an abundance of high A’s that left
the audience stunned, but the men of the ensemble weren’t afraid to follow
that act. They answered confidently with their own rich, unison plainsong,
before launching into the unmistakable elaboration of William Byrd. In his
O Quam Gloriosum, the four basses resonated like ten. The piece grew to a
dynamic middle section, showcasing a great, unified treble sound. That
wasn’t always the case with the trebles though. The following selection,
the introit for the Feast of Christ the King, paired a male and female alto.
That wouldn’t have been my choice, considering they had two male altos
who have sung together extensively, but it was still beautiful despite the
difference of timbres.

Next was the smooth Spanish sound of lesser-known Sebastian de
Vivanco. The double-choir octet sounded a bit raw, but that might be
attributed to the group’s reduction, resulting in less fullness of texture.
Returning to Byrd for Benedictio et claritas, the second sopranos sounded
considerably thinner than the firsts, but it was lower in their register.
Francisco Guerrero’s Canite Tuba was sung by an impressive quartet,
though again, the blend could have been better. Nevertheless, I wished the
piece were longer, because I was left wanting more.

A few times, Dimmock intoned, never turning away from the choir though.
Here, his nice baritone sound led us into the Offertory of the Requiem
Mass, the concert’s second dose of Vivanco, only this piece was ten times
the beauty of his motet. Sebastian de Vivanco – who are you, and where
have you been all of my life? Living in the shadow of his contemporary,
Tomas Luis de Victoria, this man’s music has too long been forsaken,
brought to the forefront by only the most dedicated musicologists.
The notes Vivanco put on the page expressed the text almost too well. The
choir cried, “deliver the souls of all…” and almost delivered mine. I felt
darkness when they sang “obscurum.” I felt sincerity of a promise when
they sang “promisti.” AVE unwaveringly held lengthy notes in this and the
following piece, Alleluia; what breath support! The drone of the plainsong,
Alleluia, set up a calming solemnity for the next selection, which began,
“There was a silence in heaven…” With this, the trebles took us from the
act of contemplation to the act of war through Phillippe de Monte’s motet,
Factus est Silentium. Again, the sopranos were a little too live, but this is
exciting music, so I can understand that uncontrollable urge to sing
beyond what’s on the page. The blend filled out nicely toward the end as
all the parts came together more homophonic, displaying how “tens of
thousands attended him.”

By this point, I was already annoyed by the amount of reconfiguring, which
was understandable, but not absolutely necessary. I prefer the sound of a
mixed choir, though many like to see the lines move by putting all of one
voice part together. AVE’s next move sent all but two trebles to the
opposite end of the church. Following a Josquin Agnus Dei duet, AVE
performed a Schütz motet, accompanied by Dimmock on organ. The
chords were wonderfully full of sorrow. Following that, the Gesius chorale,
Gloria sei Dir gesungen, featured a quartet that produced a lovely sonority.

The music of Penalosa took us back into a minor mode after the previous
two works. It was very simple and flowing, leaving room for listeners to
enjoy the subtle harmonics. After fourteen preceding selections, the choir
was tiring, so tuning and balance suffered on the Penalosa, and entrances
weren’t exactly locked in on the final piece, a hard to dismiss annoyance
displayed a few times previously. Notwithstanding, the music of di Lasso
was so animated, I couldn’t help but be enraptured in delight. The
choristers personified the text, sounding of trumpets, flutes and harps,
singing of joking, laughing, and dancing – all things foretold to be lost in
the final hour. However, in an unpredictable move, AVE ended the concert
with a symbolic move, exiting the stage still singing. The crowd chuckled
before giving a standing ovation. I was impressed. I highly suggest you
request the program notes and look for more information about AVE at
www.jonathandimmock.com

Cantabile Chorale – June 11, 2006

It was the name of the program that caught my attention – Mostly Mozart,
Partly Pärt. This semi-pro level chorus, originally known as the Baroque
Choral Guild, originated in 1979. With about 50 singers, under the
instruction of Sanford Dole, they have a robust tone that was, surprisingly
vibrato free. At First Congregational in Berkeley, they were backed by the
Mission Chamber Orchestra from San Jose, a ten year old orchestra with
decent experience and sound, but there’s plenty of room for development.

In reverse chronology, Cantabile Chorale began with the Pärt Te Deum.
There’s nothing like a synthesizer to let you know a work was composed in
the mid-80s. Still, Pärt’s music expresses the depth of introspection and
the yearning he surely must have felt during his many periods of self-
imposed silence. However, I refuse to believe that the man could restrain
himself from singing this music aloud as it boiled up inside his heart. It’s
simply too powerful, and Cantabile Chorale showed just that. Their sound
reflected the words very well; they powerfully sang of “judgment,” and
reverently sang of “prayer.” The group’s dynamic contrast was uncanny
for a chorus their size! Now they didn’t always make it all the way up to
their notes, often at extreme dynamics, but when they did lock into those
sweet dissonances, it was amazing how well they contrasted and molded
the sound. Ah the bittersweet pleasure of notes sung confidently, only
semitones apart.

The second half was quite a departure from the contemporary contribution
of our friend Arvo. Instead, young Wolfgang’s 26 year-old mind was
invoked; it was the Mass in C Minor. I enjoyed listening to the interplay of
the orchestra and singers, challenging my ear to identify the many
alteration between sequences, and the recapitulation of Mozart’s baroque
-infused motifs. The long runs were a little jumbled, particularly in the fast
and furious Credo, but mostly, the moving parts were fun to follow. “Seek
the subtleties,” I told my companion.

Soprano soloist and SF Opera Chorus singer, Mitzie Kay Weiner, displayed
great range and control. She has a lighter sound than most soprano
operatic singers, but it worked very well in this choral setting. Elspeth
Frank, mezzo-soprano soloist and renowned local choir filler-inner, nailed
every note in her first aria, Laudamuste, and rocked the house every time
she opened her mouth thereafter. Tenor soloist Kevin Gibbs was crisp, and
Baritone Jeff Fields did well in his short stint, singing only the Benedictus
in this incomplete mass.

Back to the Chorale. I still have to find out exactly what their conductor put
in the tea to get Cantabile Chorale to display such dynamic contrast, but
until then, I’m dubbing his technique Dole Dynamics and suggest a dose
for conductors everywhere. However, I’m a stickler for text, so Dole Diction
could have been better.

I wanted to yell “Bravo!” after Cum Sancto and thought about doing the
same at the end of the work, but overall, I wasn’t moved quite enough to
do so. Cantabile Chorale was great; cleaner and more balanced than many
choruses their size. They’re definitely a powerhouse in the South Bay. Find
out more at www.cantabile.org

Saringhimig Singers – June 17, 2006

I can’t exactly pronounce it, but I guarantee you I’ll recognize the name
when I see it. Founded in 1974 as a university chorus in Manila, the group
is now based out of Cal State East Bay. Founder and director, George
Hernandez, prepared A Choral Odyssey for one of the many choral
competitions they regularly appear in. This year, it’s the XII International
Choral Competition of Kathaumixw in British Columbia. The competition
set consists of their Filipino repertoire, but that’s not all that this concert
included. St. Jarlath Catholic Church had a great acoustic, but I think Hells
Angels were out running the town; the outside noise from the highway
ruined several great musical moments.

The first half was a diverse mix of classical and traditional. The men kicked
off the program surrounding the audience for a beautiful rendition of the
well-known Ave Maria chant – melodic and clean. The ladies then joined
them, making a group of about 30. On perhaps the hottest day of the
summer, the Saringhimig Singers ironically sang a Christmas song,
Mendelssohn’s Weihnachten, demonstrating their skill from the onset with
this 8-part beauty. From the 19th century straight to the 21st, the chorus
presented two songs by Z. Randall Stroope. His Riveder le Stelle (We
Beheld Once Again the Stars) sounded a lot like Lauridsen, which isn’t
necessarily bad unless you’ve exhausted your tolerance of O Magnum
Mysterium, which I personally never could (so sue me!). Anyway, Stroope
takes us through a dynamic journey reflecting Dante’s trials and
tribulations, from Inferno through Purgatory to Paradiso. The song was
sensational, but with the chaos of a double-choir arrangement, the diction
wasn’t very clear, and as the music journeyed through different keys, it
became hard for the chorus to tune accurately. Nevertheless, the Singers
were all smiles; they had outstanding showmanship throughout the
performance. The second installment of Stroope came as The
Conversation of Saul: Turn Hatred Into Love. Here, the word of God came
in Latin and English – a mix of The Divine Power’s cries to Saul, displayed
sometimes as furious rhythms and sometimes as a peaceful voice. It was
after hearing this that I officially abandoned the idea of comparing these
three fantastic groups.

Then I reconsidered. Quest for Camelot is the reason why. It wasn’t in the
program, so I was thrown off. I haven’t heard a show choir in ages, so I
wasn’t prepared for this music. Their soloists certainly sang well, but it
was definitely more of a “second-half” act. The line between classical and
contemporary was complete obliterated though when they followed with
Elijah Rock. Nothing says, “bye, bye Classical segment” like a Moses
Hogan Spiritual, and this arrangement was particularly exciting! I thought I
had heard them all, but Saringhimig introduced me to this version’s
rousing syncopations and passion-filled obligatos, to say the least. They
then brought it back down with a gorgeous James Erb arrangement of
Shenandoah, a favorite of mine from the album, Let Your Voice Be Heard
by Cantus. Another Hogan Spiritual, Old Time Religion, allowed the
Saringhimig Singers to show off their bass soloist, one of the many great
individual voices they have to choose from. There was a scary moment
when the audience started clapping on the downbeat – a big faux pas in
African-American music – but eventually, the chorus corrected them. The
Singers gave a taste of what was to come after intermission when they
finished the first half with Tinig ng Lupa, an “orchestration of sounds of
the Earth.” It was all thrills and chills with bamboo percussion, stomps,
yelps, chants, and moans. It was like a sung version of Trinidad and the
Big Mississippi. This song was, by far, the most dramatic exposition of
choral showmanship I’ve ever seen. At one point, there was silence while a
single treble started moaning and gesturing toward the sky, all while
slowly circling. I gathered that this represented the sad view of Earth’s
suffering. As if that weren’t riveting enough, one by one, the other ladies
joined the soloist, making for chaos on stage and fear in the audience.
Eventually, there came a recap, and with the reintroduction of a rhythm
came the easing of tensions amongst the listeners. To top it of, though, a
soprano, whom I can only imagine to be the highest singer in the Bay
Area, launched into a deafening yelp that grew to, quite nearly, the point of
a sonic boom! I think I found the SF Opera’s new Queen of the Night, and I
found Tinig ng Lupa to be the new King of foreign folk songs.

After a costume change, The Saringhimig Singers gave a wonderful
performance of several more songs from various regions of the
Philippines, many arranged by Hernandez, the group’s conductor. One of
Hernandez’s was Caturog Na Nonoy, a Bicolano lullaby – succulent and
soothing. Francisco Feliciano’s Pokpok Alimpako, a Maranao children’s
play song, is a must hear – a syncopated extravaganza! The tenors shined
on Gabaq-an, a Ruben Federizon piece with traditional instruments,
choreography, and a wealth of dissonance, all of which the chorus showed
confidence in presenting. Hernandez arranged the remainder of the
program. The fun loving Cebuano folksong, Rosas Pandan, preceded a
great little number, Ay, ay, ay, O Pag-ibig, displaying the tradition of a
young Filipino man getting his friends together to sing under the window
of the woman he’s courting. This used to be a practice of college Glee
Clubs as well, but has sadly gone to the wayside.

The Singers showed the deep religious influence on the lives of their
people through Ikaw Louie Ocampo, a passionate Tagalog love song. Then
there was Tirindingding, a comedic teasing of the morning riser by the
rooster; yes, someone played the rooster. To close, the chorus fulfilled a
popular request that had not been programmed but had folks singing and
dancing in their pews. The group came down and surrounded the audience
for the last few lines, resulting in an instantaneous ovation. Their encore
was a Hernandez arrangement of Nants’ Ingonyama, internationally known
as the infamous Circle of Life from Lion King. You can’t end a show
without a crowd-pleaser, and Saringhimig did the job well, complete with
animal sounds and an array of soloists walking throughout the audience.
After lots of pomp and showmanship, the entire chorus again circled the
audience, finishing with a blazing fortissimo. What a set! You can hear
many of these pieces from their latest album, online at
www.saringhimig.org

AVE, Cantabile Chorale, and the Saringhimig Singers. Three very different
ensembles, three extremely contrasting programs, several languages, and
one commonality – excellence! Thank you to them all for fantastic
concerts. I recommend you hear each of them.



SINGING TO MYSELF

The series about a struggling musician, his landing in the Bay Area, his trials
and tribulations, aspiring success, and his young humor about it all.

Easy to Make Fun of


I was at a local establishment this past weekend, consuming my favorite
vice, trying to impress a young lady. I really can't remember her name or
what she looked like, but she actually acknowledged my presence, so she
must have been either really polite, or really unattractive. Nonetheless, in
my effort to woo her, I mentioned that I was a contributor to a prestigious
and widely read choral eZine. Her clothes didn’t immediately come off as I
had expected, but she did at least respond with intrigue, "In five words or
less, describe to me the Bay Area choral scene." With minimal delay, I
responded with the sincerity that only five Jack & Cokes could command.
"Easy to make fun of," I slurred. In retrospect, I think of two things:
1) Damn, I end sentences in prepositions and 2) Damn, I hate that I'm
right. Singers are just too easy to make fun of. Here's a list of just a few
types of choral singers I've noticed.

The Backseat Conductor
Strategically mentioned first, because the backseat conductor is who I
enjoy making fun of the most. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe in the
dying institution called hierarchy. God forbid someone tell Northern
California singers that not everyone is equal, but here it is: There are
conductors, and there are singers. Conductor = Boss. Singer = Employee.
Get used to it. I don't care if you think we should be using Germanic Latin
instead of classical, if it's more historically accurate to sing a motet at
420hz, or whether the blend would be better if those three 80 year-old
women did not sing with the tenor section. It doesn't matter! If the
conductor wants or needs an opinion, he or she will ask. If you wanna’
whip out your baton and have a measuring contest with a conductor, do it
on your own time. Our jobs are to make conductors happy. If you want to
direct, start your own choir.

The Exhibitionist
Is it ever possible to hang out with musician friends and just act like
normal people? It never fails. We'll be sitting at a bar after some crappy
rehearsal when someone asks, "Hey, how many parts do we have here?"
Don't try to justify singing in public by saying, "We just love music and
just want to sing." I see you looking around, trying to find out whose
attention we’re getting when we’re singing some lame canticle. Wanna’
impress someone at the bar? Down that pitcher in the time it takes to sing
your little song. Now that's positive attention!

One Trick Pony If I'm driving in the car with you, and the radio is blasting your favorite
song, I don't care how much you like it. If you can't sing along to a pop
song without that whole-step vibrato and piercing formant, then shut up.
It's a car, not Davies. Do everyone a favor and learn some bad technique
for the moments when you don't need to be heard.

The Hummer
Don't get me wrong. I like hummers just as much as our last Democratic
President, but not at a gig. Warm up at home, not every time there's a
break in rehearsal, and not on the BART. Leave the public alone! If they
wanna’ hear you sing, they'll come to your performance.

Sidenotes: Don't hum the note to prove you knew the right one that
everyone else screwed up. Don't hum the note to try to guess what it'll be
before the conductor gives the pitch. And for God's sake, don't hum the
note after the pitch is given. I don't care how in tune you think you can
sing, our memories can remember a note a lot more in tune than anyone
can sing it.

The Disclaimer
You're sick? Didn't have time to warm up? You've been singing all day?
Suck it up and sing! Don't force me to come up with some
lame compliment, "Oh, you sound fine," just because you lack the immune
system, preparation, or technique to do your job. We judge your singing,
not your excuses.

So now it's your turn. Email info@baychoralmusic.com and tell us your
favorite chorister to make fun of, and we’ll publish your results in the next
issue. Entertain us. We're easy to make fun of. Me, I'm an Ignoramus. I'm
the guy who knows nothing about composers, genres, or choristers, or
sight-reading for that matter, but just sings loud enough to cover it all
up. He then pretends that he's cooler than the other choral singers,
because he's not a choral dweeb, but it's just a defense mechanism
because he's insecure about his lack of knowledge in his own chosen
profession. I guess I better quiet that, before I find that I'm stuck forever,
singing to myself.

Call Me,
Ismael