THERE were moments in Stabat Mater, for string orchestra and mixed choir, where time almost stopped. It arrived from the ether on violin, and twenty-one minutes later, faded out into nothingness, the violinists playing more and more quietly until you wondered if you could still hear them. The control and tone they elicited was outstanding, and this was a feature of the entire piece. The choir, from the wordless opening to the final Amen, were perfect. The soprano and counter tenor (I think) at one point shadowed and echoed each other so beautifully, this listener wondered if there might be a higher power.
There is a real sense of being overwhelmed by suffering...
Stabat Mater Dolorosa (The sorrowful mother stood) is a thirteenth century hymn that meditates on Mary standing before the cross where her son is crucified. Pärt’s music rises and falls quietly throughout, the tight dynamics of the composition made the three eruptions of fast bowed strings that occur suddenly all the more powerful: there is a real sense of being overwhelmed by suffering. In this irreligious country I do wonder if such art replaces the religious impulse – a sold out Bridgewater Hall listened in complete silence (apart from the coughing, and the mobile phone, and digital watch alarms and someone dropping what sounded like a glasses case). Gábor Takács-Nagy, who conducted passionately all night, even span round at one point and pressed his fingers to his lips. They were minor irritations though.
The concert started with Vox Clamantis singing the piece from the Richter / Pärt event at the Whitworth. Drei Hirtenkinder aus Fátima is a short piece that references an occasion where the Virgin Mary appeared to three young shepherd children. The singing was faultless and moving. The second piece, for string orchestra, Fratres (Brethren) is one of Pärt’s most popular pieces and has been scored for various elements. This version, which contains a wood block doubled up with a bass drum for some simple, compelling, percussion was profound. The low sustained notes from the cellos and double basses that underpin the piece were phenomenal.
In the second half the choir returned for Da pacem Domine, a setting of one verse from the Book of Common Prayer – ‘Give peace in our time, O Lord’. With its plaintive sentiments, its major chord structure and the lack of chromatic sliding, it was a heartfelt plea. The final piece for full orchestra and soprano was un-Pärt-like in some ways. In Como cierva sedienta the soprano, Polina Pasztircsák, was operatic rather than choral, and the full orchestra with manifold percussion – tubular bells, kettle drums, xylophone, triangle etc. – was a departure from the usual restrained and compressed harmonics. The piece was halted, interrupted by shrill flutes, the eructations of a contrabassoon, minor chord French horns, paffed tambourines. It was an odd but compelling piece.
There was a huge standing ovation for Arvo Pärt at the end, when he joined the stage, and if he wasn’t so humble I would say that the Camerata and Vox Clamantis had done him proud.
Arvo Pärt / Manchester Camerata played The Bridgewater Hall on Sunday 12 July.
MIF 15 - CATCH UP ON ALL THE REVIEWS, NEWS AND ACTION HERE