Like Daphnis, a stunning orchestral work with a limited choral contribution, but just sufficient to justify programming (though, of course, the orchestra would have to be up to scratch!). The Bartók is a superbly gruesome story of prostitution, attempted murder and macabre mystery culminating in compassion and death. The violent score etches like acid every nuance of the story, whose unconscious subtext is as clear as day.

Soprano, alto, tenor, bass soloists,
large children’s choir, 2 large mixed double choruses (in practice 4 full size choruses),
orchestra (inc a few doublings): 2 piccolos, 6 flutes, alto flute, 6 oboes, oboe d’amore, bass oboe, 2 cors anglais, 2 E b clarinets, 5 B b clarinets, 2 basset horns, 2 bass clarinets, pedal clarinet, 3 bassoons, 2 double bassoons, 8 horns, 2 E b cornets, 8 trumpets, bass trumpet, 3 tenor trombones, bass trombone, 2 contrabass trombones, 2 euphoniums, 2 tubas, 2 sets timpani, 2 harps, organ, celesta, glockenspiel, xylophone, 2 bass drums, 2 side drums, 1 long drum, 2 tambourines, 6 pairs cymbals, gong, thunder machine, tubular bells, chimes, chains, 2 triangles, birdscare, strings to match (say 24.24.24.20.20)
4 off stage bands: totalling 8 horns, 8 trumpets, 8 tenor trombones, 4 sets of timpani
(in summary: 32 wind, 24 on stage brass, 24 off stage brass, total 6 timpanists, 10 percussion, 112 strings - total orchestra c200 players, plus adult choir of 500, children’s choir of 100, 4 soloists = c800)

Two parts (32´. 60´) of three movements each; first part instrumental, second a setting of Te Deum

Many interesting articles about The Gothic are referenced here on the Havergal Brian website

Soprano solo
double chorus (in practice 2 full size choruses)
orchestra: 6(2picc,1alto fl).2.2ob d’am.2cors a.bass ob.Eb clar.4.2basset hn.2bass clar.pedal clar.4.2contrabsn-8.4.5.2-2sets timp.c3 perc-2hp,org,cel-strings to match

3 movements, 49´, the choir sings in I and III, totalling 38 mins

" The reader may be familiar with the final chorus of Walton’s Belshazzar’s feast, where the Jews exult over the fall of Babylon in the same pitiless, self-righteous tones as their late oppressors. A similar idea is the central expressive issue of Das Siegeslied, and Brian explores the implications in many ways… It is a shattering, armour–plated juggernaut of a symphony, and when, as in the slow movement, it penetrates more visionary regions, violence is only held in check, to burst forth nakedly at the climax…

" Yet perhaps most astonishingly is the objectivity that informs the work. It is not the product of a subjective violence within Brian, but a deeply-imagined presentation of national violence, bare of all illusions. It forces us to look at the cruelty of war and the brutalisation of ‘Victory’ full in the face, and know them. When I hear Brian described as a naïve man, I always think of this work. Only a very sophisticated artist, with great clarity of vision, could have conceived it. " Malcolm Macdonald.

The psalm of victory is psalm 68 ‘Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered’—Brian sets it in German (note the date).

A performance of this work would be fully supported and is likely to be partially funded by the Havergal Brian Society.

Male alto, high soprano
SATB chorus (inc SATB semichorus)
orchestra: 3(picc).2(cor a).2.bass clar.2(contrabsn)-4.2(flug).3.1-3perc-harp-strings

43 mins

And any organisation mounting this work can be guaranteed of excellent quality scores and parts, since this is my current music copying venture (for Schott).

And why not consider a little extra come-on, a cherry for the top of the cake: a short orchestral work? I’m thinking specifically of John Adams’ Tromba lontana which, at 5 mins and probably not needing (m)any additional orchestral instruments, fits and also adds another related dimension to the other works.

And if The desert music was felt to be too much for the singers in addition to the Songs, then alongside a shorter choral work, I strongly suggest John Adams’ Shaker loops (24 mins, string orchestra)—one of his best works to date, though pre-Harmonium.

Incidentally, I have been commissioned to produce another version of the sixth song from liquid days, Forgetting, which will be performed by soprano solo, small mixed choir (c24), string quartet plus double bass and organ (four hands—and four feet!). This has been approved by Philip Glass and may be followed by similar reduced versions of Lightning and one other.

Three scenic plays by WH Auden after fables of Aesop, for
soloists [speaker, alto, baritone],
chorus [inc SATB solo quartet and 2 speakers],
and small orchestra
25 mins

Hans Werner Henze
Musen siziliens [Muses of Sicily]
1966
Schott

Chorus, 2 pianos, wind [2.2.2.2-4.2.2.0], timpani
26 mins

Of Moralitäten, Henze wrote "I imagine they could be performed… either in concert form or on stage. In stage productions it is left entirely to the performers to decide on the manner of staging, to invent a suitable style. The main thing is to enter into the fun… Each of the three miniature operas is divided into brief numbers—little arias, recitatives and choral ensembles." The musical style, particularly of Moralitäten, lives in that perky Stravinsky/Kurt Weill world with droll references to Britten and, according to Henze, Satie; the harmony in the orchestra may be a little more astringent from time to time, but the choral writing "was meant to be enjoyable to sing, even [my italics!] for amateur choirs, and the playing of the two solo piano parts [of Musen] should be fun both for pianists and audience."

The libretto of Moralitäten is in English (though the recording is of a German translation), and there’s every reason to sing Musen in English (the text is from Virgil). In both works the choir is very much to the fore and, in Musen, the pianists and timpani are by far the predominant instrumental contributors.

I must emphasise that, however difficult some people may think Henze’s music is (though works like the ninth symphony—see below—are really no worse than post-Mahler), Moralitäten and Musens siziliens are deliberately accessible, ‘light’ and enjoyable. The fables, of course, are not without their morals, despatched pointedly by the speaker, but the emphasis is on the choir having a laugh being frogs one minute, crows the next and doomed sailors in a sea storm the next.

Choir, orchestra
56 mins

UK premiere at the Proms 2000.

Unfortunately, it is a bit depressing ...

SATB chorus, orchestra
c35 mins

Symphonic psalm after a drama by René Morax

original scoring: 2(picc).1(cor a).2(bass clar).1-1.2.1.0-pno,harm,cel,timp,1 perc-0.0.0.1.1
72 mins

An interesting work, particularly after a little research. Originally intended as a series of illustrations to a play, it was very tellingly and imaginatively scored for a small ensemble (see above). In order to make a concert work, Honegger made a new scoring for a considerably larger orchestra, whilst the playwright compressed his play into a sequence of brief texts spoken by the male narrator.

Le roi David, written by a much younger composer (he was 29 when it was premièred) than that of Jeanne, shows much of the musical imagination of the later work. It is a (yet another—but note the date) work modelled on the eighteenth century oratorio: recitatives (this time a narrator), big choruses, chorales, orchestral numbers, soloists… The big difference with Jeanne is the pace. In 72 minutes, Honegger gets through 28 numbers, not to mention the many little snippets of narration. Two of the numbers are only 13 bars and only three exceed 50 bars. I am not suggesting this is either a good or a bad thing. The popularity of the work, which was evident from its first performance, clearly shows that Honegger has got it right. However, I must say my personal opinion, when I heard the work for the first time completely saturated in Jeanne, was that it verged on the fragmentary, particularly in the first half hour. Listening to it again for this report doesn’t dispel this view, but I can see a number of advantages in considering it for programming.

Firstly, the original orchestration—always favoured by Honegger apparently—sounds totally convincing, yet is appealing modest (even more so than it appears above, since the cello just doubles the double bass ad lib; the celesta is only used in two numbers; and the treble and the female speaker only appear in one number each: a couple of minutes at most).

Secondly, the work has a significant choral contribution but, like Gerontius, it is hardly a continuous presence (14 numbers use the chorus), so the concert could give the choir a breather in a more strenuous season. And the soloists are not unduly stretched either (11 numbers, plus the 1 for the female speaker).

Yet (thirdly), what looks ‘minimalist’ on paper in terms of resources doesn’t at all sound it and, by the end of the work, one feels that a big, satisfying work has been experienced.

Fourthly, surely big approval from the choir.

soloists: piano, cello, flute, clarinet, marimba, xylorimba, vibraphone
tenor, baritone
choir: SSMAATTbBB × 10 voices per part
orchestra: 5.4.5.4-6.4.4.2-6 perc-16.16.14.12.12
2 septenaries (32´. 60´) of 7 movements each

soloists: STTTbbBBB
choir: SSMAATTbBB × 15 voices per part
orchestra: 7.4.8.4-6.4.3.3-5idiophones-5perc-3ondes martenot-16.16.14.12.12
forming 3 acts (80´. 120´. 60´)

If the performers do not have a collective experience of profound spirituality producing this, I’ll be most surprised..

Mixed chorus a capella
84 mins

I am the first to moan that Pärt has all too often appeared to be turning the handle and out comes yet more of the same. The Berliner Messe is a good example.

Some Pärt works have really struck home with me, undermining any defences, these include Tabula rasa for two violins, prepared piano and strings, whose second movement is agonisingly beautiful (I heard the London Sinfonietta perform it live and it was near unbearable); De profundis for men’s chorus; Cantus for strings and one bell. But his masterpiece to date has always been Passio: there is nothing in any of his other works which isn’t better and more movingly said in Passio.

Now, I believe strongly that Kanon pokajanen is a second masterpiece. It sounds like Pärt, to be sure, but it is a Pärt who has moved on, matured, developed. The canon of repentance which Pärt sets is a 7th/8th century Russian Orthodox text. Having made two smaller works from the text, he decided to set the whole lot. He says: ‘This allowed me to stay with it, to devote myself to it; and, at the very least, its hold on me did not abate until I had finished the score. I had a similar experience while working on Passio. It took over two years to compose Kanon pokajanen…’

There are eleven substantial numbers (the longest is 12 minutes) and, like Berliner Messe, I am sure it is taxing for the singers (but much longer!). Pärt writes it for a chamber choir, and unlike the Rautavaara, he means it. On the other hand, it is texturally no different from Magnificat or Berliner Messe, so I have no hesitation in proposing it: the choir simply (!) needs to keep very focussed. Works like this Pärt and the Schnittke Choir concerto—and certainly the Rautavaara and Rachmaninov Vespers—whilst on paper being challenging a capella works are actually within a good choir’s orbit (but still challenging!).

I very strongly urge programming one of these big a capella works. I can’t see choir members being other than pleased to get their teeth into something challenging and rewarding.

Soprano, tenor, bass soloists
large chorus
orchestra : 4(2picc).3.0.2alto sax.bar sax.3.contrabsn-6.4.4.2-c4perc-harm,pno-0.0.0.10.8
26 mins

Overall, there were more important things to get right. So… if the choir makes their best endeavours, no more is required (given an overall high technical standard from the choir).

And much of the music is surely within a good choir’s ability: the strength of the work is Penderecki’s ability to handle his resources with total assuredness and sense, but always to the greater goal of expressiveness, reflecting on the subject of the text. For those sensitive choir members who don’t wish to sing the contemporary Polish poetry fragments which illuminate the conditions in the camp, the composer has helpfully set the text in Latin.

It is such a powerful and dramatic work—deriving its immense strength from its restraint much more than from the rare outbursts—that it seems a completely natural choral work. A performance would be a seriously important date on the concert calendar, but most importantly, it would be stunning!

Large mixed chorus
accordion ensemble, military band, large orchestra
46 mins

It both is, and is not, what you might think it is. It is a convinced and convincing celebration of the Revolution; it is not an empty, totalitarian piece of politics. Composed a little after Romeo and Juliet, which it surreally reminds one of from time to time, it predates Alexander Nevsky (which it also reminds one of).

The comparisons with Nevsky are illuminating: both are described as cantatas, but this Cantata really is one, not just a sequence of orchestral items which includes a chorus. Indeed the 20. Anniversary cantata is much more like a film soundtrack in which the chorus are the stars (no soloists). Like a film, it is full of jump cuts and unexpected segués, and, even without the text, it’s immensely involving—it reaches out and grabs the listener.

It’s all wonderfully over the top yet always heartfelt (one feels). Continually inventive, exhilarating and, when necessary, heroic—goose-pimples up the back, the lot.

After five brief sections (total ten minutes) including a rather droll piece, Philosophers, with which the chorus is first heard tiptoeing in, revolution breaks out in the sixth section (ten minutes), complete with alarm bells, sirens, a man shouting through a megaphone and real automatic gunfire. This was all too much for the Russian authorities, who promptly banned the Cantata, somewhat ironically given its subject matter. Four more substantial sections complete the work. The choir sings throughout, except for the penultimate section and some of the brief earlier sections.

Even with movement names like The pledge and The constitution the music still thrills—indeed The pledge has wonderful legato choral writing and two terrific composed crescendi. The whole thing strikes me as being fun, greatly enjoyable, and adequately challenging both to rehearse and perform (and conduct, I hope), but needing lots of stamina.

You would expect a stunning peroration at the end, and Prokofiev doesn’t disappoint. But he leaves it to the last minute, making it even more exciting—and then the final fortissimo choral chord goes on forever [time it!] whilst all the orchestra is going flat out modulating like mad under this pedal. If the audiences aren’t screaming the house down after that, then I’ll be most surprised.

soprano, mezzo, tenor, baritone, bass soloists
mixed chorus a capella
64 minutes

However, Vigilia is another matter. Very much of the dimensions, stature and nature of the Rachmaninov Vespers, this is in two parts: vespers and matins dedicated to St John. What I find interesting, musicologically but also as a simple listener, is that, whilst its nature and subject would immediately place it fair and square in the Pärt/Tavener/Górecki arena it actually sounds nothing like these composers. The adjectives which come to mind are muscular, vigorous, and so on; the lengthy melodies have lots of different notes (!) and whilst they are modal, the modes are not familiar from these other composers.

In his CD note the composer says: ‘The choir not only sings but speaks and whispers too. It sings in clusters and glissandi (a traditional feature of the ancient Byzantine church)’. I quote this because I’m not sure that his parenthesis only refers to the glissandi: it would be very interesting if it referred to all the techniques he mentions. In other words, these ‘avant garde’ effects have an ancient source. Let me say that they are very sparingly used: Ligeti this ain’t.

Rautavaara goes on ‘…this All-night vigil is closer in spirit and expression to the ancient and lost world of Byzantine chant than to the new Russian chant which was not established as the accepted style until the nineteenth century’. And who am I to argue?

Vigilia is really impressive. Its variation form imposes coherence to its tapestry of 34 numbers—a form which, even if the listener cannot trace the variations specifically, I am convinced is appreciated subconsciously—ensuring that it never appears to ramble. Indeed, it is tightly written and beautiful to listen to. The contributions of the soloists are important, but there is more than enough for the choir to do! I feel that the Finnish Radio Chamber Choir who sing on the CD, whilst excellent, are really too small at 26 (according to the booklet photo). This strikes me as definitely a big choir work, in the same way as Alfred Schnittke’s Choir concerto is.

As I have said over and over again, I am convinced that the sterile view of the work that one gets from the CD is down to the that performance and recording. This work has a lot of potential worth unlocking.

baritone solo, large choir, orchestra
79 mins

There is an achingly beautiful 11 minutes which I confess is one of my favourite bits of music.

Large chorus, large orchestra
8½ mins

An extraordinary work, not only short but in four movements as well. Yet this is a work of vast scale! Requiring a big orchestra and chorus, this is a work which one wouldn’t/couldn’t tag onto the end of the Dixit Dominus (anybody’s), and most programme planners would find it too puzzling and ‘somewhere else’ to programme with a big work (though it demands big resources).

Personally, I think this is the perfect foil to the Verdi or Berlioz Requiems, or similar large work: short enough not to make the concert overlong (and not to tax orchestra or chorus in rehearsal), yet massive enough to provide a counterweight and, indeed, throw some interesting light on the main work.

That first movement, four tubas intoning deep As whilst the chorus simply breathes, is ancient, heiratic—like that trumpet found in Tutankhamen’s tomb—yet timeless (breathing), but pure Berlioz as well, by the way!

Because each movement basically consists of only one idea—usually only one note or chord—it can be dwelt on at length. But what timing! And what a master at composing changing timbres.

According to the CD booklet, the ‘large’ orchestra excludes oboes and violins, and has only one viola (solo in I), but includes lots of low brass, organ, piano, and (allegedly) six percussionists. Oh and in the last movement everyone, including the singers, energetically tinkles little bells.

I think this should be considered seriously, on the back of a large work: it is puzzling, but is also at least stunning if not the masterpiece the CD booklet claims. I suspect it has never been performed in London (it was only premièred in 1985), and generous Brownie points could be got for putting it on whilst not significantly adding to the workload. Hire of parts is probably the main cost (Salabert, unfortunately). If one had enough chutzpah, you’d call an interval afterwards and take some money at the bar!

soloists: oprano, mezzo, 2 tenors, 2 basses
chorus, orchestra
110 mins

Whatever… Certainly this setting of parts of the Book of Revelation is consummately written and full of marvellous music, sure to appeal to choir and audience alike.

soloists : oprano, mezzo, 2 tenors, baritone, speaker soloists
large chorus, large orchestra (c150)
110 mins

From Michael Oliver’s review of the Abbado recording: "The more recordings of Gurrelieder proliferate (a work that was once thought to be virtually unrecordable) the more obvious it becomes that the real difficulties lie not just in the work's sheer density but in the tricky business of getting each detail right. Each of the six soloists is of crucial importance: a single weak link can upset the entire performance. The conductor, too, has to cope with a vastly wider range of sonority, dynamic and texture than in almost any other work in the repertory. He must be alive to pages of unprecedented gigantism, but also to others where Schoenberg has clearly taken Mahler's late use of the expanded symphony orchestra as a complex of chamber groups to heart. And he needs to demonstrate that Schoenberg meant no more than the simple truth when he said the Gurrelieder was ‘the key to my development’; it is a Janus of a piece, and neither face should be turned away from the listener. "

Mixed chorus, orchestra
19 mins

Soprano, tenor, bass, trumpet, basset horn, trombone, 3 dancer-mimes, 2 saxophones, electric organ, 5 trumpets, 3 actors (silent), 3 compositions of light [on film], tape, shadow play, 5 choral groups, ‘Invisible choirs’, 1 orchestra, sound projection

2 scenes: Festival (50´), Vision (27´)
plus Michaels-Abschied [Michael’s farewell] (11´-30´)

Firstly, each of the music dramas is put together from commissions, which explains why different scenes of Saturday, for example, are for American wind band, a piano sonata and so on. Act II of Thursday is a superb trumpet concerto. So, Stockhausen not only sanctions the separate performance of individual scenes of the music dramas, he encourages it and, indeed, works out subscenes, such as Dragon fight, which is part of Festival.

Secondly, the sounds you might hear on tape or CD are only half the total. The credit for Donnerstag says ‘Music, libretto, dance, actions and gestures composed by…’, and having seen this work at Covent Garden, I can confirm this egalitarian contribution of music and speech—rather than its predominance—is actual. And even that is not the whole story, since the use of projected colours is key throughout Licht, and the use of a shadow play and the ‘compositions of light’ in Vision and Festival retrospectively, is also important. So any performance of Michaels Heimkehr must involve all these aspects.

Thirdly, the three principle characters of Michaels Heimkehr, and indeed of the whole of Licht,—Michael, Eve and Lucifer—are each represented by three artists (tenor/trumpet/dancer, soprano/basset-horn/dancer, bass/trombone/dancer-mime respectively); so that will present a nice challenge to any impresario!

Fourthly, this is seriously strange music. Xenakis and a host of others may be more dissonant, loud, outrageous etc, but Stockhausen with his little, almost homely melodies is weird!

In Festival, "Michael returns home to his heavenly residence. Eve greet him, together with choruses and orchestra, with a hymn. Michael returns thanks… Eve presents him with gifts: three plants, three compositions of light (a very old woman interrupts the celebration in a magical way), and a terrestrial globe as a souvenir of his journey around the earth [this was the subject of act II]. Yet, the devil is part of the game, who, as a gremlin and tromboning tap-dancer involves Michael in a bitter fight [Dragon fight] The appearance of two youths with soprano saxophones causes all to stare at them enchanted…" und so weiter—and so on. Vision is a statement of Michael’s, well, vision: "I—spirit of the spirit of Michael—became a human. I wanted to know the meaning of being a human… to bring celestial music to humans and human music to the celestial beings…".

Donnerstag, which runs 190 minutes excluding intervals, also comes rather charmingly with a Greeting which is played in the foyer to the audience as they arrive and a Farewell which attends their departure. Five trumpeters, dressed as Michael and positioned on the roofs and balconies of the buildings around the performance venue, play fragments of the music of the opera as the audience make their way home.

Tenor, mixed chorus, orchestra
25 mins

Of course, the Stabat mater is well worth a go, too.

chorus: SATB
soloists: SSMATTbB
orchestra: 2.2.2.2-4.2.3-perc-cel-hp-strings
dancers, inc one soloist

Three acts, roughly 50´.35´.50´, if ‘traditional’ cuts (which include the chorus) are opened out, as they must be

Act 2 is primarily balletic, and the other acts also require contributions from dancers if the work is staged. In my humble opinion (and I know this work better than any other Tippett, including A child of our time), whilst there is action, it is not dynamic - it is psychological. It resides in the development of character and music. The music is dynamic. As a result, the work can be done justice with simple staging which doesn’t require a lot of movement form soloists or chorus. But, where a stage can be provided, there is an opportunity for a dance team to complete the picture.

So, a production of this could be a joint venture as with Joan.

Stylistically, the music is more approachable than A child of our time and, at its best (eg St Johns fire in Act 3), is simply transcendental.

Michael Tippett
The mask of time

Certainly these two Tippett works are idiosyncratic masterpieces which the choir should perform at the first opportunity.

Soprano, tenor solists
chorus, ‘large ensemble’ [3(3alto fl).0.3bass clar(2Bb clar).1.3alto saxes(3sop saxes)-0.3.0.1-3perc-pno(cel),hp,bass gtr-0.0.0.8.4]
25 mins

Viola, mixed chorus, small orchestra
22 mins

What a pity that Vaughan Williams neglected to include a chorus in his marvellous ballet Job!

Speaker, electronic tape and choir
27 mins

It may be a cliché to say this music demands to be heard, but it happens to be true: the ‘trick’ is that Xenakis’ genius (like Gerhard’s) makes the experience much harder to bear than the reportage would be on its own.