“Water is the driving force in nature”

By Chris Billingham and Julia Hudson 

As some may already know, in the early 1900’s large cracks began to appear in the walls and ceilings of Winchester Cathedral. The solution to this problem came in the form of William Walker, a deep-sea diver who worked underwater in complete darkness for six years. However, before this story goes any further, I should probably take a step back and explain why I’m telling it.

Southern Sinfonia is fortunate enough to perform in some beautiful venues throughout the year. From St Nicolas Church and William the Conqueror to Douai Abbey and the St Edmund's monks, each venue has a fascinating history. But does this history add grandeur to a performance? Will an audience know a venue’s history? Is it fair to say that a venue’s visual appearance makes it atmospheric, rather than the events that took place many years before? 

To consider these questions, I began to look into the histories of some of our upcoming venues. The recent flooding and subsequent problems the nation has faced makes it hard not to immediately think of Winchester Cathedral, the location of ‘The Great Turning’, a concert which will see the premiere of a new educational work by June Boyce-Tillman. This beautiful cathedral has recently fallen victim to heavy rainfall and floods; a post on their official Twitter page shows the water level in the crypt at its highest in recent memory. 

With this in mind, I began to research the cathedral and found that, in fact, water plays a big part in its history. As the huge cracks started to appear in the early 1900s and the Cathedral seemed in danger of complete collapse, architect Thomas Jackson decided that the solution was to underpin the building’s south and east walls with new foundations. The problem with this was that the narrow trenches they planned to dig would need to reach 4 metres (13 feet) below water to be effective. As workmen dug, water flooded into their trenches and they soon realised the work would have to be completed underwater. This realisation led to diver William Walker being tasked with labouring under water for six hours a day, using his bare hands to dig through muddy water and excavate the flooded trenches to then fill them with bags of concrete. When he had completed this task, the groundwater could be pumped out and workmen were able to safely underpin the subsiding walls.

An enthralling story and testament to one man’s huge achievement, I feel a huge amount of respect for the memory of William Walker; at the concert, an added appreciation of the fact that this beautiful venue is still standing will add to my enjoyment of the music. While not everyone in the audience will know about William Walker, they will all be aware of the recent problems the flooding has caused the venue, prompting the same reaction of appreciation from two events over 100 years apart.  

Somewhat fittingly, water has always played a large part in Christianity; from Jesus’s baptism in the River Jordan to the miracle of the calming of the storm, water is seen as both a positive and negative manifestation of the forces of nature. In April, Southern Sinfonia is performing Bach’s Mass in B minor in the Chapel at the Old Royal Naval College, Greenwich, alongside The Old Royal Naval College Choir. His last major artistic undertaking and his most spectacular, it was unusual for a composer of Bach’s Lutheran tradition to compose a full Catholic Mass, but whatever his motivation may have been it was an opportunity for him to rework some of his previous composition. Written over an extended period, the original manuscript shows that Bach divided the Mass in four major sections, similar to the sections in the Roman Catholic Mass Ordinary. The first section is the Missa, and includes the Kyrie and Gloria. The second is the Symbolum Nicenum (or the Credo). The third consists of a single movement, the Sanctus, and the fourth is entitled Osanna, Benedictus, Agnus Dei et Dona nobis pacem. Surprisingly, given the diversity of the material, Bach managed to shape a coherent sequence of movements and create a unified work, which he could easily have intended to stand as a memorial of his immense skill.

Leonardo da Vinci said that “water is the driving force in nature” and our sadly topical watery theme comes full circle, via floods and underpinning in Winchester, the glorious Chapel in the beautiful Greenwich Naval College, and on to our next concert, ‘Mr Handel’s Water Music’, in St Lawrence’s, Hungerford. Interestingly, our theme for this programme comes from a triumphal river pageant: Handel enjoyed his extended visits to London, where he became fêted by the royal family and in particular George I.  In the summer of 1717 a concert was planned on the River Thames and Handel was commissioned by the king to write ‘Water Music’, which finishes this programme. Our concert begins with the favourite ‘Arrival of the Queen of Sheba’.  We then perform two pieces that show his aptitude for solo composition: ‘Oboe Concerto No. 1’ and ‘Violin Sonata in D major’.  ‘Concerto Grosso Op 6 No. 12’ was composed in the autumn of 1739 and was performed in Vauxhall Gardens – where Handel’s music was so popular a marble bust was installed.

It seems evident, therefore, that an awareness of history and a dramatic venue cannot help but add grandeur to a piece of music. For all those in Winchester Cathedral aware of historic and recent battles with nature, those hearing the River Thames in Greenwich or being transported to it in Hungerford, the images conjured are sure to add drama to the evening and, ultimately, the music. 

If you would like to attend ‘Mr Handel’s Water Music’, click here to find out more and purchase tickets. To see us perform 'The Great Turning' at Winchester Cathedral, click here. You can also click here to find out more about our concert with The Old Royal Naval College Chapel Choir. 

Southern Sinfonia with Ralph Allwood recorded the Bach Mass in B minor in 2010, this time with the Rodolfus Choir, so this is a concert not to be missed. You can buy the recording here.

To find out more about our work, please visit our website, Facebook or Instagram. 

“God tells me how the music should sound, but you stand in the way” - Toscanini

By Julia Hudson

For a musician, it’s always a fascinating experience to be conducted by someone new: it has a huge impact for both performers and audience. Classic FM's Webchat with Ed Gardner and the number of concerts the orchestra have coming up, with different choirs and conductors as well as our own David Hill, got me thinking about just this: what skills conductors require, what is particularly challenging and just why they put themselves through it!

To answer my questions, I cornered two conductors – Dominic Brennan, with whom the orchestra are working next month playing contemporary composers James MacMillan and Tarik O’Regan, and, contrastingly, Ben Collingwood, who has a PhD in early music and works in classical music for the BBC. 

As a musician in an ensemble setting, there is a sense of responsibility akin to playing a team sport – you are one of many, but if you make an error the whole team suffers. For a conductor, then, the liability is surely disproportionate. How do they cope?! “Most musicians, from amateur to professional, can smell blood if you're even a little nervous or unsure. I think conductors have to be excellent actors: using the face, eyes and hands to convey musical ideas, being authoritative whatever their true personality, and being relentlessly positive, whatever state the music is in.” It seems a combination of leadership and alliance is the key. “The feeling of not knowing exactly what’s going to happen, but that you are going to make music together, is a thrilling one!”

When handed a new programme as a performer, my thoughts are conflicted. On the one hand, if I already know it, it’s an easier challenge and it could be something I love. On the other, being exposed to something new can have transformative powers. Thrillingly, this seems to work both ways: “It’s amazing introducing a piece to a group who have never come across it before, for them then to fall in love with it. One of the joys of working with a group over several months is the musical relationships that you build with one another; you getting to know them, and them getting to know you. Each conductor has their own little musical idiosyncrasies, and it’s fantastic when a group starts to do those without you having to ask them.”

Conductors can also have the thrill of resurrecting a lost work: “There’s so much unknown music out there that deserves to be performed, and it’s amazing to wonder when a certain work was last heard in public. In the case of early music it could have been unheard for hundreds of years.”

In practical terms, there is no doubt that being prepared is the key to a successful rehearsal or performance, whether the group is professional or amateur. “I prepare by studying the score for quite a while; highlighting passages with which I think the performers might struggle. Most importantly I try to get a sense of the overall structure of the work – noting the climaxes, both in each phrase, and then in the piece as an whole; it’s almost a structural analysis.” Surely this begs the question – is it the composer’s music, or the conductor’s? Is there a balance between interpretation and authenticity? This is, of course, a question for our Patron, but Dominic and Ben had this to add: “My feeling is that people perform much better when they have a good understanding of the work, so I try to explain that to the performers during rehearsal as much as I can. When performing early music I put in some of my own dynamics and phrasing, but keep an open mind so as not to stick to them rigidly if they don’t work in performance.”

When considering this question of interpretation, then, are the same things always difficult for every group? “I think that for any ensemble music that is out of their comfort zone is going to be challenging, be it rhythmically, harmonically or both. MacMillan has a very unique language, with a totally different sound world to Brahms, Byrd or Mozart that we're all used to. Not only is it harmonically foreign to lots of us, it is tricky rhythmically - that can be a challenge to shape as a conductor, but my singers are doing a fantastic job so far!” Help is also at hand from fellow musicians – the section principals in an orchestra, for example, play a vital role in supporting the conductor, especially the Leader. “As a singer, trumpet player and organist, I have less knowledge of bowing and things string-related. Trusting the leader of an orchestra becomes incredibly important for me in those situations.” 

The conductors, then, have prepared by extensive study of the score and consultation with the Leader, as well as thorough rehearsal. But how much of the end result is original interpretation? Isn’t it tempting to take advice from the great recordings? “If it’s a complex piece of contemporary music then I do, just to get into that particular composer’s sound world. I try not to listen to recordings of early music as it influences my interpretation of it too much.” “I think it's important for conductors to have their own style: Gergiev is famously fiery and passionate, Dudamel infectiously enthusiastic, David Hill concise and authoritative. [witness this for yourself – see below for details…] The most important thing for me, I think, is to be clear with whatever direction I'm taking the music in… there is a danger that if you become obsessed with one recording you merely create a facsimile of someone else's work: you become an expensive metronome, not a conductor!”

It’s pretty hard work – I wonder if the idea of turning up and playing at the back of a large string section, or singing amongst twenty-five basses, doesn’t appeal to them at times. “Nothing beats the thrill of a live performance. Making music in front of a packed house can be electrifying…the power of controlling a live performance is amazing!” “The biggest kick is the feeling of working together, creating something in performance that can only happen at that time and in that place, something unique to both performers and listeners – it’s fantastic. There is a sense of satisfaction and joy at the end of a concert when all has gone well, and the first thirst-quenching pint in the pub has been consumed to reward a job well done!”

Thanks, Dominic and Ben, for your insightful words. Disagree with what they said? Get in touch with them on Twitter (make sure you tag us too!). Ben: @CollersB Dominic: @D_O_Brennan Southern Sinfonia: @sinfoniasouth.

See Dominic and Southern Sinfonia in action on March 15th in the beautiful St. Gabriel’s Church, Pimlico. We shall join The Cantus Ensemble for a stunning Lenten programme, featuring the harrowingly effective 'Seven Last Words from the Cross', alongside the little-known 'Triptych'. Click here to find out more and buy tickets!

See Southern Sinfonia in our own concert, conducted by the great David Hill, on 28^th March. Taking place in the atmospheric St. Lawrence Church, this intimate evening entitled ‘Mr. Handel’s Water Music’ will include performances of his finest works including Music Suite No.1 in F major, written for King George I to be performed on the Royal Barge as he travelled down the River Thames.

To find out more about our work, please visit our website, Facebook or Instagram. 

“Hear his faith within" - A look at choral music and religion

By James Chater 

This weekend, Southern Sinfonia is extremely excited to be performing Mendelssohn’s oratorio ‘Elijah’ with the Pangbourne Choral Society. Completed in 1849, it is a large and powerful work, and so popular that it has remained in the standard choral repertoire ever since its first performance (at the then Birmingham Festival). Like many religious works, or any work with a text for that matter, the strength of it lies not solely in the music itself, but more so in its ability to elucidate the text. The extent of Mendelssohn’s religious beliefs is contentious, but it is likely that he was a practising Christian, albeit aware of his Jewish ancestry. Is it possible that Mendelssohn’s religious convictions are present in this work? Is the work better off for the fact that Mendelssohn was conscious of the potency of the text? Or, in other words, does a composer require strong religious beliefs in order for the work to be effective?

Before answering this, it is worth bearing in mind a little history. Prior to circa 1650, a large portion of music was written exclusively for the voice, and was largely sacred vocal music. Take a handful of the major Renaissance composers: Josquin, Byrd, Tallis, Palestrina, Lassus. All of them are renowned for their sacred vocal music, and it is fairly certain that they were all religious men too. Does it correlate then, that all their religious music is convincing, owing simply to their belief? This seems unlikely.

And yet, when I list some of the most powerful works I can think of (despite not being a chorister in any way, shape or form) I am inexorably drawn to choral works. The haunting beauty of Lauridsen’s ‘O Magnum Mysterium’, the majesty of Mozart’s Requiem, or the mellifluous Requiem by Fauré. Fauré is perhaps the key to this question: his Requiem is arguably his most popular work, despite evidence suggesting he was not enamoured with the Christian faith. Fauré “was regularly seen stealing out during the sermon for a cigarette” and was fired from his post as organist at a Church in Rennes, Brittany when “he turned up to play at Mass one Sunday after arriving still in his evening clothes.” Albeit not conclusive, it is perhaps fair to say that Fauré was not as pious as someone such as Bach. But still, his Requiem never fails to move me and many others to this day; the final movement, ‘In Paradisum’ was even part of Baroness Thatcher’s funeral last year. Perhaps this is a testament to religious texts themselves; an indication that they are so ripe for musical interpretation, that a composer only needs to be relatively skilful to create a successful musical work.

I have mentioned Bach, one of the most prolific composers of all time. His sacred output is enormous with, over 200 cantatas, motets, the St John Passion, the St Matthew Passion and the Mass in B minor all to his name. This huge amount is due in part to his employment at St Thomas Church in Leipzig, where he was ‘Kappellmeister’; a position which, at times, demanded him to write a cantata per week. It is often questioned how Bach maintained such a high level of productivity throughout his time in Leipzig, and many answers centre around Bach’s faith. Bach was a devout Christian, and it is his faith that is said to have given Bach the tenacity to create this extraordinary body of works. Furthermore, it is often said of Bach’s music, that you can “hear his faith within it”; this may sound bizarre on paper, but if you do listen to some of Bach’s sacred works, you become oddly convinced by this. There is an indescribable sense of otherness about the works that is quite amazing to experience.

Of course, one thing I have ignored throughout this short piece is this question; by whose standards is it convincing? Surely everyone has varying religious beliefs and musical tastes? And you’d be right - an endless discourse could ensue as to why or when or how we are affected by sacred works, but ultimately it comes down to the individual. This however, I think is not a ‘cop-out’ answer; it is just testament to the fact that atheists can be moved by, and even write, music that would bring the most devout Christian to tears.

To find out more about tomorrow's concert, click here. 

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Legends of Classical Music – Who? And, more importantly, why?

By Chris Billingham 

Throughout his lifetime Alexander Borodin produced a number of memorable works that have stood the test of time. My personal favourite is Symphony No. 2; from the alternations between major and minor thirds in the first movement to the use of F major in the second, the piece joyfully wanders into a number of unique directions, complemented by wonderful pacing. As well as my praise for this particular work, Borodin is held in high regard because of his powerful string quartets, and acclaimed opera ‘Prince Igor’. In a letter of 1877, Tchaikovsky stated that “Borodin possesses talent, a very great talent” and a number of other composers, academics and more have complimented the Russian composer.

Does this make him one of the greatest composers of all time? Could you attach the word ‘legendary’ to his name? Presumably it would depend on what you think the term means. One of the most common descriptions of the term is “Extremely well known; famous or renowned”. To test whether or not Borodin fits this definition, I asked a number of friends who don’t listen to or engage with classical music if they recognised the name; none of them did. They were however, familiar with Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin and Tchaikovsky, names that constantly appear at the top of lists of ‘the greatest composers of all time’. 

Image by buckleysoreal

Why do these names frequently top these lists? In 2011, The New York Times ran a detailed campaign to find the Top 10 composers of all time. The project opened a discussion through online videos, multiple articles and blog posts. Eventually there were more than 1500 comments, all passionately arguing the case for various composers and debating the winner. The paper’s chief music critic, Anthony Tommasini, concluded that Bach would top the list “for his matchless combination of masterly musical engineering [as one reader put it] and profound expressivity”. Is this a fair judgement? On the one hand, the sheer volume and range of art would suggest audiences connect to different things. There is a reason that we can keep segmenting art, from pastoral paintings to horror films; one expressive form cannot necessarily be compared to the other. Despite this, we attempt to do so constantly in modern popular culture, judging a singer against an acrobat on shows like ‘Britain’s Got Talent’. 

Speaking of popular culture, it could be argued that death is a factor when labelling modern artists as ‘legendary’. In my opinion this is because society is left to wonder how they would have increased their body of work. Analysing what has been can take hours, but wondering what could have been can last for an infinite amount of time. ‘Grace’ by Jeff Buckley is an incredible album and his tragic death at a young age means people will always wonder what could have been, which sounds ‘legendary’ to me. 

Despite its importance when considering other forms of art like mainstream music and film, death doesn’t seem to be an important factor when considering the greatest classical composers. Potentially because Western classical music dates back to the 11^th century, with so many composers thus historical perhaps people don’t consider how long their lifetime was. Combined with the fact that life expectancy has increased, any composer living before this period could be expected to have lived a shorter life. Henry Purcell, for example, lived to only 36 years old with an unclear cause of death, while Mozart famously died young with a huge creative output of 600 works (and the story of his poisoning by Salieri, made famous by the film ‘Amadeus’, has been disproved).

Speaking of Mozart, therefore, is status in the classical music world therefore determined by a composer’s body of work? It is estimated that Bach wrote over 1000 compositions; an incredible amount by anyone’s estimation. This said, I’m sure that most would argue that quality is more important than quality. As Tommasini explains, “though Bach never wrote an opera, he demonstrated visceral flair for drama in his sacred choral works, as in the crowd scenes in the Passions where people cry out with chilling vehemence for Jesus to be crucified.” 

Perhaps it as simple as that; skill, and a high quality of work, can make you a legend. As discussed above and in previous articles, I would still argue to an extent that every listener has their own view on what is and isn’t the highest quality. However, numerous lists of the greatest composers of all time would suggest that if the masses feel that an artist’s work is powerful and engaging, they will be referred to as ‘legendary’. I may well try and convince more people to consider Alexander Borodin…

Who would you describe as legendary? To get in touch and share your thoughts, comment below or join in the discussion on Facebook or Twitter. 

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