Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Hallelujah! Leanne sort-of reviews "Messiah"
The bit where Leanne waffles on...
The 8th of December is notable in my life for several reasons.
My brother was born on 8th December in the 1960s, although I wasn't yet around to heckle him. It was only a couple of years later I could start making his life a misery. I'm still catching those missed years up, but I'm persistent.
Also on the 8th of December, one of history's greatest musicians and song writers and all-round lust-after-able people, John Lennon, died. He was shot down outside his apartment block in New York by Mark Chapman.
I happen to know a Mark Chapman, but not the same one. He's a lovely guy and has not, to my knowledge, shot anyone lately.
The bit where Leanne may offend some readers, but probably not...
And last week, on the 8th of December, I lost my Messiah virginity.
Up until now, I'd managed to sing in choir for nearly two decades, without ever performing the thing. City Choir has now relieved me of my Messianic chastity, and I can now stand tall, and proclaim myself En-Messianized.
The bit where Leanne should be professional, and do a proper review. But doesn't.
I suppose this review should be all impersonal and stuff, and I should prosaically mutter on about the intonation of the choir. I should mention the dulcit tones of the sopranos, the warm, chocolatey notes of the altos, and the resonant richness of the basses.
I should comment on the fact that the tenors have never sounded better, and that their entries in the fugues were on time and pitch, confident and strong. I should discuss the wonderful soloists, noting in particular the excellence of the tenor, and how well our extremely late notice alto soloist performed.
In a typical, non-personal review, I would also mention the orchestra, and how well they played, with great timing, feeling, and dynamic sympathy to the music.
Lastly, I would comment on the ridiculously amazing dexterity of Mr. Burchell, and how fluently he managed to control and direct all this, while playing the harpsichord as well.
If I were being less than professional, I might make a silly comment, such as wondering where David is keeping Brain Number Two, because surely ("sure-ely!") a human being is not supposed to be able to do all that on one brain alone.
BUT...
This is not a professional review.
The bit where Leanne gets all personal, and stuff.
I am just some hack soprano, who thought it might be a good idea to write about my first Messiah experience, so I wouldn't forget what it was like, and what bloody good fun it all was.
So instead of all that official review-ey stuff, I'll talk about how I had an absolute ripper time singing the Messiah.
I loved it. I bopped my way through "And the Glory of the Lord", did a little bit of John Travolta-ing in the "All We Like Sheep" (and I've often wondered about Travolta's personal leanings too, so this seemed appropriate), and groovied along to the rest of the movements too.
Let's face it - the whole of the Messiah is one big show-off piece. Handel was a big, fat, glitzy show-off.
In my mind, I visualize Handel as a kind of Liberace figure, with cheesy, wheezy voice, funky wig and paste jewelry. And I don't think I'm too far wrong. I mean, look:
Only their mothers could tell them apart!
Handel wrote Messiah in order to impress everyone he knew, and a whole stack of people he didn't, and to piss off some people he thought were slightly...ummm...second rate to his own glorious self. The guy had a massive ego.
So the only way to sing the piece is to love it, jazz to it, sliiiide to it, and savour every moment in a slightly Hollywood-esque fashion. And that's what I did.
I imagined fat old Handel was sitting down there in the audience, saying "show us what you've got, baby!" and then there's me, and every other choir member up on stage coming back at him with "yeah, Handel sweetie, just watch this!"
Because it is our job to make the guy grin from ear to ear - a real, Tim Curry-esque, Cheshire Cat grin - by singing our hearts out and giving his music every single bit of glam sparkle we could throw into it.
So my experience of Messiah was a bit surreal - a bit Hollywood. I grooved, I danced around on stage far more than is appropriate - and I had an awesome time.
And in the end, that's what singing is all about really. Handel was into fun and games and stirring and partying - and I guess I honoured his memory a bit by enjoying his music in that kind of way.
Overall, I think City Choir did a terrific job. The reviews are coming back positive. From where I stood, we sounded great. The audience were certainly approving. We gave bang for the audience's buck. They got their money's worth, and then some.
So yes, I've lost my Messiah virginity. I'm far from expert, but I don't think I'll be quaking in my stylish-yet-affordable boots next time I have to sing it. Because I know that, somewhere up there, the not-so-wee ghostie of Handel is watching over us.
And he's chuckling at the "All We Like Sheep" lyrical positioning, just like I am. Because in Heaven I'm sure you get Babel fish as a free bonus.
Which is kind of cool.
The 8th of December is notable in my life for several reasons.
My brother was born on 8th December in the 1960s, although I wasn't yet around to heckle him. It was only a couple of years later I could start making his life a misery. I'm still catching those missed years up, but I'm persistent.
Also on the 8th of December, one of history's greatest musicians and song writers and all-round lust-after-able people, John Lennon, died. He was shot down outside his apartment block in New York by Mark Chapman.
I happen to know a Mark Chapman, but not the same one. He's a lovely guy and has not, to my knowledge, shot anyone lately.
The bit where Leanne may offend some readers, but probably not...
And last week, on the 8th of December, I lost my Messiah virginity.
Up until now, I'd managed to sing in choir for nearly two decades, without ever performing the thing. City Choir has now relieved me of my Messianic chastity, and I can now stand tall, and proclaim myself En-Messianized.
The bit where Leanne should be professional, and do a proper review. But doesn't.
I suppose this review should be all impersonal and stuff, and I should prosaically mutter on about the intonation of the choir. I should mention the dulcit tones of the sopranos, the warm, chocolatey notes of the altos, and the resonant richness of the basses.
I should comment on the fact that the tenors have never sounded better, and that their entries in the fugues were on time and pitch, confident and strong. I should discuss the wonderful soloists, noting in particular the excellence of the tenor, and how well our extremely late notice alto soloist performed.
In a typical, non-personal review, I would also mention the orchestra, and how well they played, with great timing, feeling, and dynamic sympathy to the music.
Lastly, I would comment on the ridiculously amazing dexterity of Mr. Burchell, and how fluently he managed to control and direct all this, while playing the harpsichord as well.
If I were being less than professional, I might make a silly comment, such as wondering where David is keeping Brain Number Two, because surely ("sure-ely!") a human being is not supposed to be able to do all that on one brain alone.
BUT...
This is not a professional review.
The bit where Leanne gets all personal, and stuff.
I am just some hack soprano, who thought it might be a good idea to write about my first Messiah experience, so I wouldn't forget what it was like, and what bloody good fun it all was.
So instead of all that official review-ey stuff, I'll talk about how I had an absolute ripper time singing the Messiah.
I loved it. I bopped my way through "And the Glory of the Lord", did a little bit of John Travolta-ing in the "All We Like Sheep" (and I've often wondered about Travolta's personal leanings too, so this seemed appropriate), and groovied along to the rest of the movements too.
Let's face it - the whole of the Messiah is one big show-off piece. Handel was a big, fat, glitzy show-off.
In my mind, I visualize Handel as a kind of Liberace figure, with cheesy, wheezy voice, funky wig and paste jewelry. And I don't think I'm too far wrong. I mean, look:
Only their mothers could tell them apart!
Handel wrote Messiah in order to impress everyone he knew, and a whole stack of people he didn't, and to piss off some people he thought were slightly...ummm...second rate to his own glorious self. The guy had a massive ego.
So the only way to sing the piece is to love it, jazz to it, sliiiide to it, and savour every moment in a slightly Hollywood-esque fashion. And that's what I did.
I imagined fat old Handel was sitting down there in the audience, saying "show us what you've got, baby!" and then there's me, and every other choir member up on stage coming back at him with "yeah, Handel sweetie, just watch this!"
Because it is our job to make the guy grin from ear to ear - a real, Tim Curry-esque, Cheshire Cat grin - by singing our hearts out and giving his music every single bit of glam sparkle we could throw into it.
So my experience of Messiah was a bit surreal - a bit Hollywood. I grooved, I danced around on stage far more than is appropriate - and I had an awesome time.
And in the end, that's what singing is all about really. Handel was into fun and games and stirring and partying - and I guess I honoured his memory a bit by enjoying his music in that kind of way.
Overall, I think City Choir did a terrific job. The reviews are coming back positive. From where I stood, we sounded great. The audience were certainly approving. We gave bang for the audience's buck. They got their money's worth, and then some.
So yes, I've lost my Messiah virginity. I'm far from expert, but I don't think I'll be quaking in my stylish-yet-affordable boots next time I have to sing it. Because I know that, somewhere up there, the not-so-wee ghostie of Handel is watching over us.
And he's chuckling at the "All We Like Sheep" lyrical positioning, just like I am. Because in Heaven I'm sure you get Babel fish as a free bonus.
Which is kind of cool.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Messiah worthwhile effort
As a member of the audience, instead of the choir, for the first time for this event, I would like to say how much I agreed with the sentiments of the reviewer. However I knew of course that the performance would be world class. I think the performance was better than ever and the choral work without music was very effective and the effort put into this by members of the choir very worthwhile.
I am back in Dunedin now, as you know, and I would like to catch up with old friends and also to sing in the proms 2010.
[Janice Royds responding to the review of the Messiah performance on 8 December, by Glenn Linde on dunedinmusic.com]
I am back in Dunedin now, as you know, and I would like to catch up with old friends and also to sing in the proms 2010.
[Janice Royds responding to the review of the Messiah performance on 8 December, by Glenn Linde on dunedinmusic.com]
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Magnificent performance
I have been singing the Messiah since 1967, and just wanted to report that my husband of 37 years, who has been to every Messiah I have sung over the duration of our marriage (what staying power!!) found the performance magnificent - he even used the word 'riveting'!!!
Cheers Loraine
Cheers Loraine
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Praise for Messiah
Overheard in the audience: "This is the best performance of Messiah I've heard in 40 years!"
Seen on dunedinmusic.com: http://dunedinmusic.com/reviews/136
Tuesday 8 December 2009: Concert Review: Messiah
Mighty work gets mighty rendition
Last evening in the Dunedin Town Hall, the City of Dunedin Choir and Southern Sinfonia with four guest soloists presented the full work, with all the magnitude and passion this work deserves.
In his fifth time presenting Messiah in Dunedin, David Burchell conducted from the harpsichord, and the orchestra and choir responded with expressive shaping and shading.
From the audience, I followed from my family's 100-year-old well-worn score, pondering over the freshness in interpretation at each hearing.
This performance featured a lightness and brilliance overall, while never losing substance.
(Extract from the review by Elizabeth Bouman in the Otago Daily Times of 9 December 2009.)
Seen on dunedinmusic.com: http://dunedinmusic.com/
Tuesday 8 December 2009: Concert Review: Messiah
Mighty work gets mighty rendition
Last evening in the Dunedin Town Hall, the City of Dunedin Choir and Southern Sinfonia with four guest soloists presented the full work, with all the magnitude and passion this work deserves.
In his fifth time presenting Messiah in Dunedin, David Burchell conducted from the harpsichord, and the orchestra and choir responded with expressive shaping and shading.
From the audience, I followed from my family's 100-year-old well-worn score, pondering over the freshness in interpretation at each hearing.
This performance featured a lightness and brilliance overall, while never losing substance.
(Extract from the review by Elizabeth Bouman in the Otago Daily Times of 9 December 2009.)
Review of Messiah concert in ODT
The review of the concert was read on the Telephone Information Service (TIS) which is provided for Vision Impaired people by the Royal New Zealand Foundation of the Blind.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
MESSIAH tonight
We are all revved up to give a top-class performance tonight - do come along to the Dunedin Town Hall for the 7:30 pm performance of Handel's Messiah. That's it - today Tuesday 8 December!!!
Wendy Dawn Thompson, mezzo-soprano billed to sing with us tonight, has unfortunately caught the nasties and her throat is now so sore that she will not be able to sing tonight. This must be the worst nightmare for a soloist... all the preparation, travelling to the concert city, the anticipation of participation (doesn't that sound nice and corny?), feeling that you are letting down the team...
Genuinely, this must be a great disappointment for Wendy and it certainly is for us too. All we can do for Wendy is give her our best wishes for a speedy recovery.
We are delighted to announce that mezzo-soprano Kate Spence is available to take Wendy's place. We have sung with Kate before and know that this experienced and sweet-voiced soloist will do us proud tonight. Thank you Kate, for your willingness to perform on such short notice. We know that you can probably sing Messiah flawlessly in your sleep, so we are looking forward to hearing you tonight.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Messiah as Opera!
A hug-in on a lawn … The Hallejujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. Photograph: Tristram Kenton
This is the caption to this photo published in the UK's Guardian last weekend. It accompanies a review of Deborah Warner's English National Opera production of Messiah. A friend in London alerted me to it. The reviewer is not particularly enamoured of oratorio as opera, in general, and definitely not for Handel's masterpiece.
This is because says Tim Ashley, the reviewer, "the piece is ultimately about prophecy and revelation, and its message is embedded in a complex structure that is more literary than theatrical." This makes it almost impossible to stage as a dramatic opera. He explains how "Warner falls back on a series of images that show how Christian iconography and belief intersect with everyday life... [which] fails to reflect the mounting elation of Handel's score. The Hallelujah Chorus looks like a hug-in on a lawn." Ultimately, Ashley says "The work's greatness is never in doubt for a second, but its visual accompaniment is entirely unnecessary."
My friend wondered what next? Messiah on roller skates, perhaps!
Read the full review here. For my part I'm very glad we are performing the whole thing, no cuts, and it was intended - without visual distractions!
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