Jubilate Singers

Press, 30 November 1987, Page 8

Jubilate Singers

The Jubilate Singers, directed by Martin Setchell, at the Great Hail, Arts Centre, November 28, 8 p.m. Reviewed by Philip Norman. The Jubilate Singers marked its tenth anniversary on Saturday evening with an enterprising selection of music from the twentieth century. Though the focal item of the programme was Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana” it was the smaller items that provided the real celebration of the group’s achievements over the last decade.

Beginning with a superbly crafted performance of "Four Slovak Folk Songs” by Bartok, the group sang with clear diction and a finely controlled tone. These are qualities that have come to characterise the ensemble’s sound under the intelligent direction of Martin Setchell.

Despite one or two slips in pitching when challenged by the more dissonant passages in Douglas Mews’ “Ghosts, Fire, Water,” the choir, conducted by Richard Oswin, gave a confident and highly expressive reading of this evocative work. Back under the baton of Martin Setchell, the three English folksongs presented ("Among the leaves sb green, 0,” “0 Waly Waly” and “Dashing away with the smoothing iron”) were particularly well-coloured with sharp contrasts of dynamics.

The first half also included a further airing of Ravel’s “Sonatine” by Michael Lawrence. As with this pianist’s September reading of the work, the material was stylishly and confidently delivered. I particularly enjoyed the clarity of line and texture Lawrence achieved in the opening “Modere.” The performance of Orff’s rumbustious and at times seamy “Carmina Burana” was notable more for its energy and high spirits than its finesse. When the choir, the two pianists (Michael Lawrence and Lea Henderson) and the percussion ensemble (led by Tom Williams) achieved accurate synchronisation, the effects were magical. Such moments of joyous rhythmic cohesion were, alas, rarely sustained for substantial lengths of time. Slight but audible disputes of pulse recurred, weakening the impact of the material in a number of places. Also, not surprisingly, the battery of percussion tended to overpower the small choir at points of climax. The soloists for the work were Richard Cooper (baritone), Franz Kney (tenor) and Jillian Bartram (soprano). Though all three at various stages were taxed by the high range of their lines, satisfying accounts of their roles were nevertheless offered. As soloist with the lion’s share of material, Richard Cooper deserves special mention for the consistent warmth and vitality of his delivery.