Tag: Kantos Chamber Choir

Posted on

Kantos Chamber Choir – The Witch Trials – Live Review

Friday 14 November 2025

RNCM, Manchester

*****

A spellbinding and emotional journey through a historical travesty of justice

The Pendle Witch trials of 1612 have left a deep scar in our collective memory in the North of England, just as several centuries later, the Moors Murders have left a deep scar in our communal psyche. It’s easy to convince ourselves that the hanging of eight women and two men in Lancashire at the start of the seventeenth century is no longer relevant in our supposedly sophisticated times. On Friday, Kantos Chamber Choir convinced us that the Witch Trials are not only relevant today but also offer lessons about human nature. The American composer John Adams, in his rewriting of the story of Scheherazade, drew contemporary parallels to the ongoing oppression of women at a recent Hallé concert in Manchester. Writing in The Guardian on the 400th Anniversary of the Witch Trials, Martin Wainwright described ‘the timeless scapegoating, misogyny and cynical authority’ of a trial in which the two judges used ‘to further their careers’ and the government used ‘to crack down on opposition at a turbulent time.’ Carol Ann Duffy, Poet Laureate in 2012, whose poem about the Witch Trials we heard at the end of the concert, said at the time,

‘I was struck by the echoes of under-privilege and hostility to the poor, the outside, the desperate, which are audible still.’

Those echoes could still be heard in last Friday’s concert. Kantos Chamber Choir devised the programme for performance at Pendle Heritage Centre, and later performed it in Pendle Castle, where the Witch Trials took place. The concert combined dramatic movement with music from around the time of the Trials and contemporary music, and texts from the Trials. This created a spellbinding and profoundly moving narrative, performed as a continuous sequence without applause.

Illustration from William Harrison Ainsworth’s novel The Lancashire Witches (1849)

The concert began unexpectedly, breaking into our mundane world. We heard the plainchant Requiem Aeternam coming from offstage as the choir processed on, a prayer for peace for those who were condemned to death at the Trials. There was a beautiful cacophony of sounds as the singers spread into the audience. The babel of voices created a mesmerising effect.

Above a long drone, there was a spellbinding moment as gorgeous solo soprano voices intoned Hildegard von Bingen’s Quia Ergo Femina, a celebration of the Virgin Mary, but also of ‘womankind’s nature and beauty.’ A list of the accused, mostly women, was chanted by choir members as they patrolled the stage.

Another prayer for mercy was an early highlight. Allegri’s Miserere, beautifully controlled by Ellie Slorach’s calm and precise conducting. The offstage choir featured Eleonore Cockerham, who sang the spine-chilling top C perfectly. The main choir sang with rich, warm voices, impeccable tuning and excellent ensemble in the plainsong passages.

Gesualdo’s astonishingly chromatic O Vos Omnes was bookended by accounts of the alleged witchcraft of ‘Old Demdike’ (Elizabeth Southerns). The text, from the Biblical Book of Lamentations, could refer to the profound sorrow the accused felt upon being condemned to death. But the composer was also notorious for murdering his first wife and her lover, for which he wasn’t punished, in another travesty of justice. In a further twist, his second wife ordered two of Gesualdo’s lovers to be tried for witchcraft.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog
Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Macbeth Act IV Scene i

Image: Macbeth, Banquo and the witches on the heath by Henry Fuseli

A new commission, Double, Double, Toil and Trouble by Anna Disley-Simpson, a setting of the witches’ spell from Shakespeare’s Macbeth (written only a few years before the Pendle Witch Trials) brought a note of humour to the proceedings. Disley-Simpson said it was fun to set words like ‘eye of newt and toe of frog.’ She described the piece as ‘a twisted and urgent nursery rhyme.’ The choir had fun as they perfectly negotiated the syncopated, bouncing rhythms of the multiple vocal lines. Further spoken words about the trial of ‘Old Chattox’ surrounded Ellie Slorach’s imaginative reworking of Barbara Strozzi’s Che si può fare. Her arrangement retained the melody soaring above contemporary vocal techniques such as ‘repeated fast exhale and inhale’ to illustrate the poet’s suffering and difficulty breathing. The piece blossomed into a moment of sheer invigorating joy as the singers allowed their vibrato to be more expansive, followed by a gorgeous, contemplative ending as the poet contemplated death.

Two of the alleged witches, Anne Whittle (Chattox) and her daughter Anne Redferne. Illustration from William Harrison Ainsworth’s 1849 novel The Lancashire Witches

The climax of the trial narrative came with The Verdict, delivered by the men of the choir. Ironically, the voices speaking in unison sounded like the congregation praying together in church. But this text, delivered with some urgency, condemned the accused to execution by hanging, with another call for mercy: ‘may God have mercy on your souls.’ After the emotional wrench of the verdict, the gently anguished polyphony of Palestrina’s Sicut Cervus (Like as the hart desireth the water-brooks, from Psalm 42) was a welcome palette-cleanser.

Lancaster Castle Well Tower, also known as the Witches Tower. It is said to have held the Pendle witches before their trial. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Camden Reeves’ Spells, Remedies and Potions, three motets for sopranos, was written in 2017. Reeves wrote his own texts, based on the fifteenth-century Malleus Maleficarum (Hammer of Witches) by Henricus Institor (the German clergyman Heinrich Kramer). This text suggested the use of torture to extract confessions from ‘witches’, and was partly responsible for the instigation of the witch trials. Reeves described the book as,

‘a sobering lesson from history: a mirror to our own actions in the present day that reflects our cruelty back to us in all its ugliness.’

The first two motets aptly fitted Reeves’ description of them as ‘Black Sabbath and Metallica, but for sopranos.’ The late Ozzy Osbourne would have been proud. Repeated vocal riffs and angular lines twisting round each other, sounding like heavy metal. In the final motet, the singers turned to face the soprano soloist Eleonore Cockerham as she sang a long, slow melody from the back of the stage. Her voice was now viscerally operatic, a complete contrast with the pure tone she brought to the Allegri Miserere earlier. The piece ended with some lovely, scrunchy harmonies reminiscent of the French composer Francis Poulenc.

‘A sobering lesson from history.’ The fifteenth-century Malleus Maleficarum. Source: Wikimedia Commons

The concert ended with Carol Ann Duffy’s poem, which ended with the words,

Away from Castle, Jury, Judge, huge crowd, rough rope, short drop, no grave
Only future tourists who might grieve.

We were the grieving tourists witnessing the death of the ‘witches.’ Conductor Ellie Slorach said in an interview for the RNCM that she wanted to,

‘…send them off in peace; it’s almost like an apology, an acknowledgement of the fact that they were obviously so mistreated.’

The plainchant In Paradisum, with multilayered voices as in the opening Requiem Aeternam, provided hope of paradise for those who had been hanged. The women of the choir left the stage, each with a male hand on their shoulder as if being led to their death, or perhaps escorted into paradise. They left the hall as they sang, creating a magical effect like the end of Gustav Holst’s Neptune at the end of his Planets suite. We heard a single, poignant ‘Amen’ from outside the hall; a stunning ending to a superb concert.

Members of Kantos Chamber Choir with Conductor Ellis Slorach. Source: kantoschamberchoir.com

The programme is being recorded for release on Delphian Records.

Sources

Digital Programme Notes provided by Kantos Chamber Choir
Martin Wainwright, Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy on the Pendle witches (The Guardian 15 August 2012)
Sarah Walters, Interview with Ellie Slorach (The RNCM Blog 3 July 2025)

Read on…

Kantos Chamber Choir – Behold the Sea – Live Review
Off the Beaten Track #11: The Wanderer by Tim Benjamin
Off the Beaten Track #10: The Seafarer by Tim Benjamin
Posted on

Review of the Year – 2024 – Classical Music

BBC Philharmonic

A Memorable Year for Music: Highlights from Manchester and Beyond

BBC Philharmonic
The BBC Philharmonic with Chief Conductor John Storgårds. Image © Chris Payne.

Last year marked the 30th anniversary of the death of my father, John Charles Holmes, under whose benign and loving influence I developed a lifelong passion for music. He was the choirmaster and organist of the local church choir. I joined his choir at the age of six and went on to sing with several ensembles, including the choirs of Exeter and Worcester Colleges in Oxford, the BBC Symphony Chorus, the Hallé Choir and the John Powell Singers. Whenever I visit an English cathedral city, I always try to go to choral evensong, which remains part of the great choral tradition that has produced many great classical singers. Although it’s a while since I sang in public, I still appreciate choral music and several highlights of 2024 featured choirs.

I was honoured to be invited to review concerts by the superb Philharmonia Orchestra in London. I enjoyed Elgar’s choral masterpiece, The Dream of Gerontius, with a premiere of a wonderfully evocative new piece, Cusp, by the baritone and composer Roderick Williams, which describes end-of-life experiences in a powerful libretto by Rommi Smith. Another moving libretto, with war poems by Wilfred Owen, featured in another stunning concert by the Philharmonia with The Bach Choir in Britten’s War Requiem. The orchestra joined forces with Garsington Opera for a joyful, semi-staged performance of another Britten piece, his opera A Midsummer Night’s Dream conducted by Douglas Boyd at the BBC Proms.

The Bach Choir and the Philharmonia at the Royal Festival Hall
The Bach Choir and the Philharmonia. Image credit Andy Paradise

David Hill conducted both of the concerts by the Bach Choir. He appeared at Manchester’s Stoller Hall in another guise as conductor of Bach’s Mass in B Minor with the young student forces of Yale Schola Cantorum and Juilliard415, who brought joy and precision to a performance which seemed to reveal Bach’s soul in all its intellectual and spiritual glory. That weekend was very special for music-making in Manchester, as the previous day was the end of an era as Sir Mark Elder ended his tenure as Hallé Music Director, a position he held for nearly a quarter of a century. His final concert included the European premiere of James MacMillan‘s splendid new choral piece Timotheus, Bacchus and Cecilia, a performance of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony, and a passionate, moving speech by Sir Mark. He is replaced by new Principal Conductor Kahchun Wong from Singapore, who I have only seen once so far, conducting a lively Rush Hour Concert in October in Tan Dun’s Violin Concerto: Fire Ritual and Stravinsky’s Firebird: Suite. He seems to be a bright prospect with an engaging stage presence.

I made two choral discoveries in Manchester in 2024. Firstly, The Apex Singers, a Manchester-based chamber choir of eight voices, founded and directed by Ollie Lambert, who directs this young choir remotely in his stunning folk song arrangements. Then Kantos Chamber Choir, under their conductor Ellie Slorach, brought Behold The Sea, a bold and innovative programme of maritime music to the Stoller Hall. I also discovered the fascinatingly intense music of Tim Benjamin, whose evocative pieces The Seafarer and The Wanderer were beautifully recorded by Kantos Chamber Choir.

Manchester Collective perform Rothko Chapel at the Bridgewater Hall, Manchester
Manchester Collective and SANSARA in Rothko Chapel

There were more fantastic chamber music performances from Manchester Collective, who I have seen perform live probably eight or ten times in the last few years, at all sizes and shapes of venues from Salford’s White Hotel to the RNCM, the Stoller Hall, the Bridgewater Hall and even the Royal Albert Hall. The Collective makes choosing to go to one of their concerts an easy decision, as it’s guaranteed there will be high-quality music-making, inspired programming and fascinating collaborations. I saw them twice in 2024, first in the uplifting Rothko Chapel with SANSARA chamber choir at the Bridgewater Hall, then in Sirocco with the force of nature that is the cellist Abel Selaocoe at the Stoller Hall. Both concerts brought deep, life-affirming joy across time and genres.

Mark Padmore - English Song Recital Image Credit Joe Briggs-Price
Mark Padmore and Libby Burgess. Image © Joe Briggs-Price

I spent the August Bank Holiday weekend in the charming market town Southwell in the heart of Nottinghamshire, enjoying the delights of the tenth annual Southwell Music Festival directed by the indefatigable baritone and conductor Marcus Farnsworth. There was supreme artistry in all the concerts, not least from the artist in residence, Mark Padmore, whose word painting in his Recital of English Song with pianist Libby Burgess was astonishing. There was new music from Martin Bussey and Gemma Bass and a world premiere of With What Sudden Joy by Cheryl Frances-Hoad, with a text compiled by the poet Kate Wakeling from words of local people in Southwell about the power and effect of music.

The BBC Philharmonic Orchestra were on excellent form as well in 2024. Early in the year, under conductor Nicholas Kraemer they were joined by Manchester Chamber Choir in a moving and dramatic interpretation of Bach’s St John Passion, 300 years after the first performance. In the Proms the orchestra under John Storgårds (Chief Conductor) played a searing version of Shostakovich’s fourth symphony, and Cassandra Miller‘s viola concerto I cannot love without trembling with Lawrence Power a remarkable soloist. The next evening, they performed Messiaen’s remarkable Turangalîla-Symphonie with pianist an Steven Osborne an energetic and compelling piano soloist. Osborne was stunning in another Messiaen work, Des canyons aux étoiles… with conductor Ludovic Morlot and outstanding solo contributions from Martin Owen (horn), Paul Patrick (xylorimba) and Tim Williams (glockenspiel) in a concert that also featured a lively wind machine and an instrument invented by the composer himself, the geophone.

The BBC Philharmonic also shone in two themed concerts. In Mischief and Magic, the orchestra under John Storgårds played one of the best live performances of Stravinsky’s Petrushka I have ever heard, and veteran Swedish trumpeter Håkan Hardenberger brought incredible virtuosity and great charm to Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto and Betsy Jolas’ Onze Lieder, and a warm arrangement of Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides, Now. In A Hero’s Life the orchestra under Alpesh Chauhan celebrated the human spirit with: Richard Strauss’ description of a heroic life; Alban Gerhardt‘s fiercely dedicated performance of Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No. 2; and the UK premiere of This Moment by Anna Clyne, inspired by Buddhist writings and Mozart.

The Lovers from A Midsummer Night's Dream
Peter Kirk as Lysander, Siân Griffiths as Hermia, Camilla Harris as Helena and James Newby as Demetrius in Opera North’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo credit: Richard H Smith

Not content with one production of Britten’s opera A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the year brought a second one, this time a fully-staged version by Opera North. It was fascinating to compare the production with the Garsington/Philharmonia version a month earlier at the Proms. The most striking difference was the role of Oberon, played in Leeds by countertenor James Laing. He played the character in the more imperious style of James Bowman in Peter Hall’s Glyndebourne production from the early 1980s, rather than the more troubled, argumentative character played by Iestyn Davies in the Garsington version. Opera North also revived Mozart’s Magic Flute, starring Emyr Wyn Jones as a very human Papageno. The lovely, warm rich tones of his voice matched the warmth of his personality. 

Musical polymath Nitin Sawhney – producer, performer, and composer – joined the Hallé Orchestra for The Hallé and Nitin Sawhney in Concert. Last year wasn’t a good year for Sawhney – in early March, he announced that ‘out of nowhere’ he had suffered a heart attack.

Nitin Sawhney and Nikki Bedi
Composer Nitin Sawhney in conversation with broadcaster Nikki Bedi. Image credit: Hallé/David Hughes

Sawhney turned this experience into a new work for orchestra, Heart Suite. In this highly descriptive and powerful new piece, Sawhney drew on his vast experience as a film composer, taking us on a vivid, moving and immersive journey. On a personal note, I hope you will forgive me for quoting his lovely response on the new social network Bluesky to my review of the concert:

Finally, I would like to thank all my readers for sharing my musical journey in 2024. I hope you will join me again for more adventures in 2025.

For the year in Progressive Rock, click here.

Posted on

Off the Beaten Track #11: The Wanderer by Tim Benjamin

An Exile in Ninth Century England. Image generated by AI

From the album Paths of Exile by Kantos Chamber Choir, conducted by Ellie Slorach

An Exile in Ninth Century England. Image generated by AI.
An Exile in 9th Century England.

The Wanderer is an anonymous Old English poem, written in Anglo Saxon, which is preserved in The Exeter Book, a collection of manuscripts which probably dates back to the late tenth century, along with other poems including The Seafarer. Both poems have been arranged for men’s voices by Tim Benjamin, and recorded by Kantos Chamber Choir conducted by Ellie Slorach on their new album Paths of Exile. A review of The Seafarer can be found in the previous edition of the Off the Beaten Track series. The author and date of the poem are unknown, although it is thought that it dates back to the late ninth or early tenth century.

Facsimile of the first page of the Exeter Book from Bernard Muir's 2006 edition of The Exeter Anthology of Old English Poems
Facsimile of The Wanderer from the Exeter Book. Source: Wikimedia

 

The poem in The Exeter Book has no title; just as Schubert’s Schwanengesang song cycle wasn’t named by the composer himself, The Wanderer wasn’t named until (long) after the poet’s death. It wasn’t given that name until centuries later, in 1842 when Benjamin Thorpe took the word ‘eardstepa’ (literally ‘earth-stepper’ or ‘wanderer’) from the body of the poem. Other scholars, such as J.R.R. Tolkien, who was Professor of Anglo Saxon at Oxford University as well as being a novelist, have suggested that it should have been given a different title. He argued that An Exile, Alone the Banished Man or The Exile’s Lament would be more appropriate, but the old title has stuck.

The poem recounts, in the first person, the story of an exiled warrior who wanders the earth and the sea, having lost his comrades, his family and his lord in battle. He recalls the gifts he received from his master and the feast they enjoyed. The hardships he describes are at times very similar to those experienced by the seafarer in the poem of that name, which feels like a companion work to The Wanderer. These words from the latter poem feel as if they could have come from The Seafarer,

‘Then he awakens, a friendless man,
Seas before him, the barren waves,
Sea-birds bathing, preening their feathers,
In rime, in snow-fall, and hail there mingling.‘

Both poems have a surprisingly contemporary resonance; as Benjamin says of The Wanderer,

I found that – despite the ten or more centuries dividing us! – I could somehow strongly relate to the anonymous writer. I feel that there is something distinctively “male” about his approach to his grief and loss that I find in myself and in other men (“a man his thoughts fast bind, hiding his mind-hoard…”)

As with his setting of The Seafarer, Benjamin has adapted a modern English translation of The Wanderer by A.S. Kline, changing some of the words to make the text easier to sing and more intelligible for listeners. Benjamin uses Kline’s abridged version which removes the short introduction and conclusion of the poem, which according to Kline is for reasons of ‘artistic coherence.’  The missing passages describe the wanderer in the third person, and make it clear that his experiences are recalled in later contemplation. By removing these sections, the poetry becomes more immediate as we are immediately plunged into the wanderer’s predicament, and in the present tense, ‘Oft I alone must utter my sadness each day before dawn.’ Perhaps more importantly, the removed sections are much more explicitly Christian than the rest of the poem, just as the final section of The Seafarer is, which has also been removed in the Kline translation (and in many others) that Benjamin uses. The Seafarer poem uses a lot of alliteration, and that applies also to The Wanderer. As Benjamin said in a recent email to Nick Holmes Music,  

I wanted to try and preserve as much as possible of the alliteration that the original had…as this is a kind of “rhythm” that you can work with as a composer. Actually much more favourable to the composer than rhyming. (I think of alliteration as a sort of “rhyming” with the front of words rather than the ends of words and I greatly prefer to work with it as a composer!)

Tim Benjamin. Photo Credit Nic Chapman
Composer Tim Benjamin. Image Credit Nic Chapman.

The Wanderer also shares with The Seafarer what Benjamin describes as a ‘melancholic nostalgia.’ In the latter poem it manifests itself more in the sense that all human power and endeavour is ultimately pointless because everything fades, but the sentiment is very similar. Benjamin describes it very eloquently – and passionately,

‘[The Wanderer] relates his sense of loss to the world at large, that the world itself is fleeting, and for me I found myself melancholic or nostalgic for the world as it was in my younger days – and then extending to an imagined or collective kind of melancholic nostalgia for the world as it was in earlier decades or centuries, which I feel is a reaction to a world that seems today to change or spin out of control and become less and less familiar the more one sees of it. It’s a strange sensation and one that I feel The Wanderer captures in an extraordinary way.’

Nostalgia for past glories is a literary trope known as the Ubi Sunt (Latin for ‘where are they.’). It appears in these lines from the poem,

Where is the horse now?
Where is the rider?
Where is the gold-giver?
Where is the seat at the gathering?
Where now are the songs in the halls?

Benjamin says that this passage, ‘forms the peak of the dramatic arc in my setting of The Wanderer.’ Readers of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings may be familiar with  these words as they are adapted by Tolkien to form the Lament for the Rohirrim, a poem chanted by Aragorn in chapter six of The Two Towers.

As with the recording of The Seafarer, Benjamin adds evocative soundscaping. The wind noises that appear throughout may remind some listeners of the ominous sound effects at the opening of the brutal Pink Floyd instrumental ‘One of These Days’ from their 1971 album Meddle. And the thunder effect about half way through the piece recalls a similar effect at the start of the track ‘Black Sabbath’ from Black Sabbath’s eponymously named 1970 album. The military drums evoke the warriors that the wanderer has left behind. The gritty scenario of the poem is similar to that described in Robert Eggers’ 2002 film The Northman which is set at the very end of the ninth century, almost exactly the time when The Wanderer is thought to have been written. There are also seabirds, as there are in the soundscape for The Seafarer.

A Ninth Century Viking Helmet. Image generated by AI.
A ninth century Viking helmet

The musical language Benjamin uses is the same as in The Seafarer, the plainsong-like tone again based on the tonus peregrinus . This is particularly appropriate for The Wanderer as it’s associated with the theme of exile of the Hebrews in Psalm 114 (or 113). Benjamin notes on his website that, ‘the reciting tone also “wanders”, such that the tone does not fit any of the standard eight church modes.’

The solo voice is recorded here mostly with less echo than the voice on The Seafarer, giving it a more intimate feel so that we share the wanderer’s journey, although more echo is added later. Sometimes there are gentle vocal harmonies around the voice, and some subtle electronics. The main soloist, baritone Jonny Hill, is excellent throughout, often robust but sometimes singing with a fragile, delicate tone when the text demands it. The overall effect of the recording is one of passionate melancholy, if that’s not a contradiction in terms. It makes a fine companion to The Seafarer both musically and thematically, and the recording as a whole is highly recommended.

Performers

Kantos Chamber Choir: Jonny Hill (main soloist on The Wanderer), James Connolly (main soloist on The Seafarer), Henry Saywell, Edmund Phillips; conductor Ellie Slorach.

The Cover of Paths of Exile

Paths of Exile is out now. Tim Benjamin’s setting of The Seafarer is discussed here.

Posted on

Off the Beaten Track #10: The Seafarer by Tim Benjamin

The Cover of Paths of Exile

From the album Paths of Exile by Kantos Chamber Choir, conducted by Ellie Slorach

The Cover of Paths of Exile
The cover of Paths of Exile

The Seafarer is an Old English poem, written in Anglo Saxon, which is preserved in The Exeter Book, a collection of manuscripts which probably dates back to the late tenth century. The Exeter Book was donated to Exeter Cathedral by Leofric, the first Bishop of Exeter in 1072, and is of such importance to our understanding of Anglo Saxon poetry that in 2016 it was listed by UNESCO as one of ‘the world’s principal cultural artefacts’, due to its status as the ‘foundation volume of English literature.’

The opening of The Seafarer in the original Anglo Saxon

Since it was first translated into modern English in 1842, there have been over 60 different translations of The Seafarer in eight different languages, probably the most notable of which is by American poet Ezra Pound, published in 1911, an interpretation rather than a literal translation. The poem has inspired various classical composers, including Sally Beamish who has written three pieces based on the text – for string trio and narrator; solo violin; and a concerto for viola and orchestra. The composer, director and writer Tim Benjamin has written a new setting of the poem for male voices with an ‘immersive audio soundtrack’, which has been recorded by Kantos Chamber Choir, conducted by Ellie Slorach on their new release Paths of Exile. The Choir’s most recent concert was themed around the sea, and music from the new recording was played in the foyer of Manchester’s Stoller Hall beforehand. Paths of Exile also features a setting of The Wanderer, another poem from The Exeter Book, which will be reviewed in the Off the Beaten Track series at a later date.

Tim Benjamin
Composer Tim Benjamin

There has been a great deal of scholarly debate as to: whether The Seafarer is a secular or religious poem; whether there are two voices in dialogue or a single voice expressing mixed emotions; whether it was written by one poet or is the work of two poets, the second of whom is more overtly religious than the first. Some versions delete the final section of the poem which ends with an ‘Amen’ like a prayer, so that the poem becomes largely about human struggle and the ambiguous relationship the seafarer has with the sea, rather than a religious homily. The American poet Ezra Pound uses the shortened version, as does the English translator A.S. Kline who ends at line 99 (out of 125), ‘for artistic coherence, and from lack of sympathy for the undistinguished ending of the manuscript.’ Benjamin adapts Kline’s translation by translating words such as ‘mew’ into the modern English ‘gull’, and more generally to clarify the meaning for the contemporary listener, also changing some words to make them sing better. Perhaps more significantly, ‘Lord’ becomes ‘lord’, suggesting a secular power rather than a religious one. Benjamin elegantly and succinctly summarises The Seafarer as a poem that,

“… captures a sense of melancholic and spiritual connection to the Earth, and is told from the perspective of a seafarer, reminiscing and evaluating his life. His hardships – physical and mental – on the sea are described in vivid detail, and drawn in contrast to the lives of men on land who he imagines surrounded by friends, free from danger, and with ready access to food and wine.” 

A stormy sea. Photo by Ray Bilcliff on Pexels.com

Benjamin uses an austere musical language, partly to illustrate the hardships that the seafarer suffers, but also to create musical lines that match the ruggedness of the original poetry, and to reflect the musical idiom from over a thousand years ago when the poem was written by an anonymous poet. The text is delivered mostly by a single male voice, accompanied by low-voiced drones and chords. In the score, Benjamin stresses that the words should always be sung, ‘in speech rhythm, like plainsong, without a strict beat.’ In emails to Nick Holmes Music, Benjamin clarified that the note lengths – minims and crotchets – simply indicate that some notes are slightly longer than others, and that the bar lines mark breaks between phrases rather than rhythm divisions,

‘it’s important to note that the score is, like for example much ancient music, quite a small component of the final rendition. Contrast with much other music, where the score is king!’

The opening bars of Tim Benjamin’s score for The Wanderer

It’s interesting to note that there are some religious overtones in this recording. The use of plainsong is associated with Christian church music until the ninth century and beyond, before the advent of polyphony. The long echo on the main solo voice suggests that it was recorded in a large acoustic like a church or a cathedral. The use of the Gregorian psalm tone known as the tonus peregrinus links back to Psalm 114 (or 113) with which it is often associated. And the use of low male-voice drones evokes the religious music of Sir John Tavener, who died in 2013.

The secular aspects of Benjamin’s setting include a recorded soundscape of the sea in which the poem is bathed and which is integral to the work and the recording. We also hear the voices of the seabirds that accompany the seafarer’s solitary journey, and the cuckoo heard from nearby land singing, ‘with melancholy voice/Summer’s watchman.’ Without the final more didactic ending of the original poem there is a sense of the passage of time marking the ephemeral nature of human life. The setting passes from the ‘cold clasp’ and ‘snow from the north’ of Winter, through to Spring when ‘the world quickens,’ to Summer when ‘fields grow fair.’ Summer brings the hope of eternity, when man’s fame will ‘ever live with the angels,’ but at the end we return to the melancholy of the opening, albeit in a very different context; the struggle of one individual is replaced by more universal sorrow for the vanity of humanity, a common literary trope expressed for instance in the early nineteenth century poem, Ozymandias by the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley; compare Shelley’s words,

‘My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains…’

with these words from The Seafarer,

‘The days are gone,
All the glory of earthly riches;
Now are no kings
Nor Caesars,
Nor gold-givers
As once there were’

If Benjamin concentrates on the poem’s humanity, rather than seeing it as a metaphorical journey into the Afterlife, this superb recording equals his ambition. There is heightened emotion in the anguished word-painting of passages like, ‘Ever the eagle screamed/Sea foam-feathered/No bright companion there to comfort the careworn soul’ in Part 2. In Part 5, there’s an explosion of passion in the agonised cry, ‘Wretched outcasts/Widest must wander.’ Although Benjamin makes no explicit link with the current displacement of peoples across the world, he does have compassion for his subject, stating that, ‘the poem is a powerful meditation on loneliness and ‘outsiderness’’

Kantos Chamber Choir
Kantos Chamber Choir

This recording by Kantos Chamber Choir draws out both the humanity of the music and its asceticism, the sense that the seafarer is a secular martyr to his fate on the cruel sea, preferring it to the more comfortable joys on land.

Performers

Kantos Chamber Choir: Jonny Hill (main soloist on The Wanderer), James Connolly (main soloist on The Seafarer), Henry Saywell, Edmund Phillips; conductor Ellie Slorach.

Paths of Exile is out now. Tim Benjamin’s setting of The Wanderer is discussed here.

Posted on

Kantos Chamber Choir – Behold the Sea – Live Review

Kantos Chamber Choir performing at the Stoller Hall, Manchester

Friday 14 June

The Stoller Hall, Manchester

*****

A bold and innovative programme of maritime music

Kantos Chamber Choir performing at the Stoller Hall, Manchester

The nearest beach to Manchester is in Southport, about 35 miles away as the crow flies, or about 45 miles by car. Yet in this landlocked city where the sea has no impact on its citizens’ daily lives, it still has a powerful resonance in the imagination, perhaps through literature such as Melville’s Moby-Dick or Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner; or through music such as Debussy’s La Mer or Elgar’s Sea Pictures. But the sea is at its most resonant in Britten’s opera Peter Grimes, in which it represents the psychological turmoil of its central character, and his isolation from society. In the second half of last Friday’s concert by Kantos Chamber Choir at the Stoller Hall in Manchester, the Sea Interludes from Britten’s opera, in an organ transcription by Anna Lapwood, were interleaved with settings by the Armenian-British composer Kristina Arakelyan of poems by Christina Rosetti. And the first half ended with the intensely emotional piece, Canticum Calamitatis Maritimae, a harrowing description of a shipwreck.

But the concert began with a more traditional view of the sea, a series of arrangements of mostly well-known sea songs. To create a maritime mood, the singers stood at either side of the audience during the opening improvisation of sea sounds, Soundscape, then took to the stage with improvised melodies, an organ drone and a solo soprano singing a folk melody. The audience was immersed by the sea, washing away the bustling city around Victoria Station just outside. And at first the view of the sea was optimistic, starting with Simon Jackson’s arrangement of the traditional Swedish folksong Trilo, the lilting melody glowing with joy as wives anticipate the return of their fishermen husbands from the sea. And there was more jubilation in Daryl Runswick’s arrangement of Dance to thy Daddy, an exhilaratingly fast version in which three smaller choirs enjoyed the syncopation and amusing key changes under the benign and relaxed leadership of Ellie Slorach. The choir’s ensemble in Desmond Earley’s arrangement of the Skye Boat Song was beautiful, with a lovely light-voiced solo from tenor Joseph Taylor and a gorgeous clear-voiced solo from soprano Sarah Keirle. A short instrumental interlude followed, an organ arrangement by Robert Gower of Peter Maxwell Davies’ popular miniature Farewell to Stromness, played by George Herbert. The lucid textures of the piece were well-suited to the simple clarity of the organ, and the sound of the bagpipe was evoked towards the end. The choir had fun again in Runswick’s arrangement of Bobby Shaftoe, featuring beatbox percussion from the choir members, included a hi-hat (!) and disco beats. There was a brief moment of slow sadness as the choir contemplated a broken heart, before they rallied again. The final song in the sequence was Jesse Beulke’s arrangement of Water is Wide, with exhilarating, scrunchy close harmonies, and the voices bloomed in a charming passage around the word ‘my love’, with superbly controlled dynamics.

Behold the Sea - Cover image from concert programme
The cover of the concert programme

After the jollity of the opening songs, the darker side of the sea was revealed by the final piece in the first half, the astonishingly powerful Canticum Calamitatis Maritimae by the Finnish composer Jaakko Mäntyjärvi, dedicated to the memory of those who lost their lives in the sinking of the ferry MS Estonia on 28 September 1994. Introducing the work, Ellie Slorach described it as a ‘monumental piece’ in three sections, the first being the ‘human part’ with solo soprano Eleonore Cockerham, the second part with news of the disaster delivered in Latin by solo bass Henry Saywell, and the third part a Latin setting of Psalm 107, ‘they that go down to the sea in ships.’ The piece began with the choir’s evocative whispering of the words ‘Lux aeterna luceat eis’ from the Requiem Mass, Cockerham’s clear-voiced, pure rendition of the imaginary folk song ‘La annaliaana’ going straight to the heart emotionally.

A recording of Canticum Calamitatis Maritimae by The National Youth Choir of Great Britain

The role of the news reader, sung by the strong-voiced Saywell, declamatory in plainsong style like a precentor in a religious setting, contrasted with the ethereal folk song. The brutal facts of the tragedy, ‘over eight hundred people lost life’, took on a new weight by being sung in Latin, like the Requiem Mass, although Mäntyjärvi stressed in his programme note that, ‘the work is not really intended for liturgical use.’ Psalm 107, declaimed by the chorus, began in the middle of the drama of a storm at sea, the basses reaching the depths, repeating the phrase ‘Qui descendunt…'(those who go down..’), as dense harmonies swirled around them. But the psalm provided some hope and calm due to God’s intervention, with a chromatic, falling passage leading to a peaceful, consonant ‘Amen’. The piece ended with the return of the folk song for soprano, seen in a new light after the chaos of the storm and the shipwreck. The return of the folksong and the whispered ‘Lux aeterna’ provided a satisfying narrative arc. An extraordinary piece, stunningly performed, leaving the audience silent for a short while before applauding.

Beaming at the audience, Ellie Slorach introduced the second half by saying that they hadn’t brought a full orchestra with them, but instead George Herbert was going to play an organ transcription of Britten’s Sea Interludes which captured the ‘colour of the orchestra’, including at one point a bell! This challenged the audience to compare the two versions, and to be fair Lapwood’s version, beautifully realised by Herbert, was largely successful. The first movement, Dawn captured the essence of Britten, piercing high notes at the start, close to the original sound, the keyboard parts reflecting the filigree ornamentation of the original. The spikiness of the opening section and the rhythmic motifs of Sunday Morning were well-drawn, as were the bells calling worshippers to church, as in the opera. Moonlight was an excellent transcription, illustrating the stately majesty of the original, dark textures lurking below like some slow-moving creature, while a piccolo soared above. The final movement, Storm, launched precipitately like an unhinged organ voluntary, was the most effective piece, dropping into the depths of darkness with deep-voiced chords.

George Herbert, organist
Organist George Herbert. Image © The Choir of St John’s, Cambridge

The four companion pieces for choir were commissioned by the BBC Singers and written by Kristina Arakelyan as commentaries after each of the Britten movements, sometimes reflecting Britten’s style and even the key centres on which each piece was based. The words were from poems by Christina Rosetti, mirroring the narrative of each of the Interludes. Bird Raptures [Dawn] began with hummed chords as, ‘the sunrise wakes the lark to sing.’ A slowly drifting tune with Britten-like textures was followed by a warm bass melody, and the piece reached a climax with chords that were reminiscent of the long sequence of chords in Britten’s opera Billy Budd. The next movement, By the Sea [Sunday Morning] captured the fluency and virtuosity of Britten’s writing, the running melodies describing the ebb and flow of the sea. The choir handled the complex lines with aplomb and clearly enjoyed the glorious climax. The third movement, Echo [Moonlight] began with the fitting words, ‘Come to me in the silence of the night’, using some of the same chords that Britten used, with slow textures beautifully shaped by Ellie Slorach. The final movement Storm Wind/O Wind, Why do you Never Rest [Storm] began with the same chords as the organ piece, with ‘shh’ sounds evoking the sea as at the beginning of the concert, passed across the choir from one singer to the next. The blowing of the storm winds was palpable. At the centre of the piece was a moment of near stillness, quietly restive and pensive – a spellbinding moment, superbly sung by the choir with excellent ensemble. The movement picked up again to match the ferocity of the opening, with very fast passages of virtuoso singing which, appropriately, created a slight feeling of sea sickness.

Credit was due to Ellie Slorach for her excellent conducting and highly imaginative programming, to Kantos Chamber Choir for their lively and engaging singing, and to the superb soloists, for a very enjoyable and at times moving evening.

Programme

Improvisation – Soundscape
Simon Jackson – Never Weather-Beaten Sail (Trilo)
English Trad. arr. Daryl Runswick – Dance to thy daddy
Scottish Trad. arr. Desmond Earley – Skye Boat Song
Peter Maxwell Davies arr. Robert Gower – Farewell to Stromness
English Trad. arr. Daryl Runswick – Bobby Shaftoe
Scottish Trad. arr. Jesse Beulke – Water is Wide
Jaakko Mäntyjärvi – Canticum Calamitatis Maritimae (Song of Maritime Calamity)

Benjamin Britten trans. Anna Lapwood – Four Sea Interludes/Kristina Arakelyan – Seascapes