REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on Beverley & East Riding Early Music Festival, Florilegium, St Mary’s Church, North Bar Within, Beverley, May 23

North Riding soprano Rowan Pierce

THE appearance in Beverley of a North Riding soprano who has made it in the international arena was enough to attract any Yorkshireman. For anyone who had actually heard Rowan Pierce before, it was an unmissable event.

With the superb backing of the ten members of Florilegium, she delivered a Handel aria and one of Bach’s most challenging secular cantatas. Orchestral works by the same composers combined to make this a succulent opening night of the festival.

The demanding coloratura of ‘Sweet Bird’, from Part I of Handel’s Milton-inspired oratorio L’Allegro (1740), sounded as if written with Pierce in mind, so flexible was her tone. Her duetting alone with Ashley Solomon’s equally agile flute was delightfully evocative of the poet’s “most melancholy enchantress of the woods” (a bird otherwise unidentified).

Florilegium, led by Ashley Solomon. Picture: Amit Lennon

She returned later with Bach’s Cantata No 204, Ich Bin In Mir Vergnügt (‘I am content in myself’), which decries the vanity of riches. Its prodigious length, four arias in succession with preceding recitatives, is a test of any singer’s stamina. But Pierce was undeterred, showing particular involvement with the text.

The recitatives were unusually dramatic. But the restfulness of the opening aria, with two oboes in close attendance, and the crisp interweaving of voice and flute in the penultimate one, were more typical of the contentment she conjured.

The evening opened with Bach’s First Orchestral Suite. With its two chirpy gavottes and acharming woodwind trio in its bourrées, it crystallised the spirit of the dance. Handel’s Concerto Grosso, Op 3 No 3 in G, showed why Florilegium has been at the forefront of our Baroque orchestras virtually since its formation all but 25 years ago, especially in its lively fugal Allegro at the close. Voices ebbed and flowed with stylish precision.

But the evening belonged to Pierce. She capped it with Arne’s setting of Where The Bee Sucks, with flute and strings, which made a perfect encore.

Beverley & East Riding Early Music Festival, Stile Antico, Beverley Minster, May 24

Stile Antico: “Undoubtedly Beverley Minster suited the singers down to the ground: they were on top form.” Picture: Kaupo Kikka Hogg

THE 12 voices of Stile Antico celebrated the quincentenary of Palestrina’s birth with a programme centred on “The Prince of Music” in what is arguably the best cathedral-style acoustic anywhere in the north of England. Undoubtedly Beverley Minster suited the singers down to the ground: they were on top form.

The choir’s very name evokes the ‘old style’ attributed by later centuries to Palestrina, so he is in effect its patron composer. His achievements are still regarded as the epitome of classical Renaissance polyphony, especially in its controlled use of dissonance. If that sounds dry and academic, the effect here was quite the contrary: the music positively gleamed.

It was a smart move to give this music some context by including earlier samples from Des Prez and Arcadelt. The former’s antiphon for compline, Salve Regina, with its high soprano entries, was neatly contrasted by the latter’s Pater noster, darker coloured and beautifully worked here. Further contrast came with Palestrina’s six-voiced Tu es Petrus, whose vigorous inner parts emerged with notable clarity.

The best-known of Palestrina’s 104 masses, Missa Papae Marcelli, was represented by its Credo, whose mood changes are remarkable. The shift from the reverential Crucifixus to the optimism of the Ascension was enhanced by a gradual progression to an Amen of extreme celebration.

Another clever juxtaposition – revealing something of the composer’s own personality – was the downbeat humility of Peccantem Me Quotidie, written in the wake of serious family loss, immediately countered by a secular madrigal reflecting his unbridled happiness on remarriage. A sacred madrigal, in the vernacular not Latin, might have completed the picture.

There were several tributes to the composer’s legacy. The Spanish-tinged harmony of Lassus’s Musica Dei Donum was almost an early ‘An die Musik’, and there was some expert shading in Allegri’s Easter motet Christus Resurgens.

Lovely modern homage came from Cheryl Frances-Hoad’s A Gift Of Heaven, which dressed Palestrina’s style in modern clothing, even imitating him at the quotation of Latin text half-way through. Its significant tenor solo was handled with admirable aplomb by Jonathan Hanley.

Finally, the luxuriant 12-voice Laudate Dominum in tympanis revealed Palestrina at his most supremely confident; like the whole evening, it was impeccably tuned.

By way of encore there was a nod to the 400th anniversary of Gibbons’s death, with The silver Swan. Suffice to say, it brought tears to the eyes.

Reviews  by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on University of York Song Day, 19/2/2022

Christopher Glynn: Put together the University of York Song Day. Picture: Gerard Collett

University of York Song Day, National Centre for Early Music & Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall, York, February 19

IT fell to Christopher Glynn to put together this year’s University Song Day. He was an excellent choice.

He is of course well known in Yorkshire for his fine stewardship of the Ryedale Festival. But it was also good to have a full-time accompanist of his calibre presiding. His intelligent, always distinctive contributions from the keyboard were the linchpin of the day.

It was in three parts. At lunchtime, A Shakespeare Songbook attracted the talents of soprano Rowan Pierce and tenor Ed Lyon. In the afternoon, outstanding mezzo-soprano Kathryn Rudge offered advice to five university students in a masterclass.

In the evening, now transplanted to the Lyons, Pierce and Rudge were joined by up-and-coming soprano Siân Dicker in a programme of Richard Strauss lieder stretching over nearly 80 years of his life.

Shakespeare has almost certainly inspired more musical settings than any other poet. Most are taken from the plays, although the sonnets account for a fair number. Here we dipped into five plays and two sonnets, with Shakespeare In Love to start and finish. There were several unexpected delights.

Soprano Rowan Pierce: “Sinister and sprightly in Tippett’s Songs For Ariel”

Arne’s setting of When Daisies Pied (from Love’s Labours Lost) with echoing cuckoo, daintily given by Pierce, was beautifully enhanced by Glynn’s ornamentation. His pacing of the prelude to Haydn’s She Never Told Her Love (Twelfth Night) was tellingly spacious.

Sylvia’s Charms (Two Gentlemen Of Verona), as imagined by Schubert, were boldly extolled by Lyon, before he turned to Julius Harrison’s much less-known setting of Oberon’s I Know A Bank (A Midsummer Night’s Dream), which was complemented by the fairies’ invocation from the same play, You Spotted Snakes, given by Pierce. Both singers proved Harrison an adept watercolourist.

Michael Head is another underestimated song composer, as heard in Pierce’s account of How Sweet The Moonlight Sleeps (Merchant Of Venice), where pianissimo drew in the listener and the piano twinkled with golden sheen.

Lyon brought terrific gusto to Quilter’s setting of Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind (As You Like It), which happened to coincide with snow falling outside, visible through a window of St Margaret’s. We felt the poetry’s chill.

This was signal for a calmer interlude, the duet from Handel’s L’Allegro, As Steals The Morn, which adapts words from The Tempest; it was affectionately delivered. Pierce was both sinister and sprightly in Tippett’s Songs For Ariel, uncovering much of their magic. Similarly, Lyon plumbed the Clown’s infinite sadness in Come Away, Death (Twelfth Night), which was tightly controlled by voice and piano alike.

Tenor Ed Lyon: “Plumbed the Clown’s infinite sadness in Come Away, Death”. Picture: Gerard Collett

Roxanna Panufnik has set three Shakespeare sonnets. Mine Eye treats the words of Sonnet XXIV with utmost care, as did Pierce here. The world premiere of Kim Porter’s duet-setting of Sonnet CXVI made a worthy and equally pleasing companion to it, gentle at its heart, with trickling piano, before building to a triumphal finish.

Both singers relished the challenge of Vaughan Williams’s Fear No More The Heat O’ The Sun (Cymbeline), taking a lead from Glynn’s ever-astute handling of the keyboard. The event was a welcome – and powerful – reminder of the rich treasury that is English song.

Devoted as it was entirely to the songs of Richard Strauss, the evening was almost too much of a good thing. Strauss was virtually besotted with the soprano voice in all its guises – he even married a diva – so the presence here of two sopranos and a mezzo was ideal. They exhibited a contrast in styles which added to the excitement.

Here, more than ever, Christopher Glynn was called upon to exercise his skills to the utmost. He never faltered. Indeed, the powerful, scented aromas that these songs generated owed a huge amount to the colours in his palette.

At every step of the way he simplified the singers’ task. Rowan Pierce opened the evening with the six-year-old Strauss’s cute Weihnachtslied (Christmas Carol), before a peppy, vivid Begegnung (Meeting) and a not quite dreamy enough account of Rote Rosen (Red Roses).

Mezzo-soprano Kathryn Rudge: “Capturing the nervous essence of young love”

Later there was a lovely transition in Schlechtes Wetter (Filthy Weather), where voice and piano together melted into the waltz, leaving behind the bad mood of wind and rain and conjuring the dance in their place.

Kathryn Rudge began with three songs from Op 10, composed in 1894 and his first to be published. She entered straight into the mood of Zueignung (Dedication), giving its powerful melody a strong line. She never let our attention wander after that either.

Glynn brought bold colourings to Nichts (Nothing), which she amplified, before a wonderfully contemplative Die Nacht (Night), calm, hovering, treasuring the moment. It was a gem.

She later returned with Schlagende Herzen (Beating hearts), capturing the nervous essence of young love with its repeated ‘kling-klangs’. There was no doubt about the depth of her feeling in Sehnsucht (Yearning), and her approach to the final word, Paradise, at the end of Das Rosenband (Rose Garland) was exquisite, once again making time stand still.

These were the work of a singer in her prime, one who knows exactly how to hold an audience in thrall. Spellbinding stuff, the voice beautifully focused throughout its range, right to the very top.

Sian Dicker: “At her best when she did not have to restrain her inner Brunnhilde”. Picture: Benjamin Ealovega 

Sián Dicker’s opening set came from Op 27, composed in 1894. She was at her best when she did not have to restrain her inner Brunnhilde. Ruhe Meine Seele (Rest My Soul) exploded into distress before neatly calming down.

Anticipated ecstasy bubbled through Heimliche Aufforderung (Secret Invitation), before her most controlled singing of the evening in Morgen! (Tomorrow), in which she took inspiration from Glynn’s gently modulated prelude (echoed in his postlude).

She was also given the honour of performing the Four Last Songs, which Strauss wrote in 1948, a year before his death. In Frühling (Spring) she developed terrific resonance at its heart but also revealed a recurring tendency to widen her vibrato when she pushed the tone too hard.

The urgency at the start of the last stanza on Beim Schlafengehen (Going To Sleep) was well judged but it needed to be followed by greater inwardness, the kind she found at the end of the final song. All the while, Glynn was achieving little miracles at the keyboard, larks trilling in the twilight, for example, before another eloquent postlude.

The three singers signed off with the trio from the end of Der Rosenkavalier, Hab’ mir’s Gelobt (I Made A Vow), when the Marschallin bows out, leaving Octavian and Sophie to each other. It was beautifully, even touchingly, done and crystalised the heady perfumes that all four musicians had concocted throughout the evening.

Review by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: RyeStream, Ryedale Festival online, Rowan Pierce and Christopher Glynn, July 24

Rowan Pierce: “Proved extremely telegenic, her calm features responding well to close-up camera-work”

Rowan Pierce and Christopher Glynn, Music For A While, All Saints’ Church, Helmsley, July 24

ROWAN Pierce’s soprano brought a ray of sunshine into this online festival, albeit under cover of candlelight.

Her partner in a “taster” – and tasty – programme was the ever-versatile Christopher Glynn, Ryedale Festival’s artistic director. They opened with Purcell and dipped into a cross-section of lieder from Schubert to Grieg, before landing squarely in English repertory again (via three folksongs), topping it all off with optimism from Richard Strauss.

It was a mouth-watering selection that whet the appetite for their early return in proper concert conditions.

So much of the poetry was keenly suited to our present plight. Music for a While, in Purcell’s famous setting of Dryden, “shall all your cares beguile”. It made the perfect opener. Similarly composed on a ground (a repeating phrase in the bass) is O Solitude, My Sweetest Choice!, a translation from the French by Katherine Philips. It invited us to treat lockdown as a bonus.

Christopher Glynn: Deft colourings. Picture: Gerard Collett

The sunshine first appeared in Schubert’s Im Haine (In The wood), where sunbeams slanting through the trees bring peace, wiping out our woes. It was tenderly treated, as was a Schumann love-song. Pierce took flight with Mendelssohn, before bringing us flowers courtesy of Strauss and Grieg.

Blow The Wind Southerly was a daring choice, given its association with Kathleen Ferrier, but this prayer for a fair voyage benefited from Pierce’s unsentimental approach. Alan Murray’s I’ll Walk Beside You, one of the very last drawing-room ballads, offered touching support, before joyful abandon from both performers in Quilter’s setting of Love’s Philosophy. Donald Swann’s The Slow Train aptly brought tearful nostalgia, while Strauss’s Morgen! (Tomorrow) promised sunshine ahead.

Pierce proved extremely telegenic, her calm features responding well to close-up camera-work. The clarity of her vowel sounds, unusually distinct for a soprano, also helped her many mood-changes throughout – as did Glynn’s deft colourings. Every listener will have yearned for more from these two. Next year perhaps?                           

Martin Dreyer