February 29, 2008
Sung by the Marian Consort directed by Jeremy Summerly
With music for lute by Simone Molinaro
This was a single performance so you can’t go to it, but it’s worth reviewing in case you ever have a chance to hear this group perform anything else.
Tenebrae factae sunt can be translated as “Darkness Fell”, an extremely apt title for this extraordinary piece of work by Carlo Gesualdo. It’s part of the Responsoria et alia ad Officium Hebdomadae Sanctae spectantia, 1611; the portion performed included the Miserere (Psalm 50) and the Responsories for Good Friday. Basically this is edited sections of the Gospels relating to the Passion, interspersed with later liturgical material; it tells the story of Christ’s final hours in a personal, indeed first person, way, confronting the audience directly with the pain, terror, and grief suffered by a man in the process of being betrayed, abandoned, tortured and killed. Even for people who are not fluent in Latin, the music conveys these emotions powerfully, combining achingly beautiful harmonies with, I don’t quite know how you would describe them, spikes of sheer anguish that sound remarkably (but not unpleasantly) modern.
The sonorous cadences of the Latin words, understood in fragments, (terribilibus oculis, plaga crudeli …flagellatum ducitis ad crucifigendum …tenebrae factae sunt… ) the insistent and imploring repetitions, played with, projected into the angelic spaces of the roof, rolled around like beautifully controlled thunder, pitch you immediately into that quintessentially Catholic experience, the contemplation of terrible suffering. For an ex-convent girl, the urge to fling yourself onto your knees, beg forgiveness and maybe whip yourself a bit was almost overwhelming; but even for normal people, it’s a peep over the edge of a deep and terrifying abyss. Gesualdo (democratically referred to just by his name, but actually a prince) famously murdered his first wife and her lover after surprising them in bed together, and spent the latter part of his life in isolation and deep depression in his castle, tortured by guilt, contemplating the beastliness and sinfulness of human nature and creating astonishing music.
The sounds created by the six singers of the Marian Consort were also extraordinary – exquisitely controlled, piercingly beautiful. You did literally feel pierced by the astonishingly pure and clear top notes produced by soprano Anousheh Bromfield. It is a wonderful pleasure to hear women sing like little boys – no vibrato, no chest resonance, no operatic affectations of any sort – in concert with the fabulously modulated lower tones of the other singers. The music itself was aided and abetted by the venue – the soaring shadowy spaces of New College Chapel, the scent of big wax candles, a brooding numinous presence – it was enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck and make goose-pimples all down your legs.
In short, if you ever get a chance to hear this group perform anything, anywhere, grab it, and if they are performing Gesualdo in a medieval building, trample your loved ones to grab it.
With music for lute by Simone Molinaro
This was a single performance so you can’t go to it, but it’s worth reviewing in case you ever have a chance to hear this group perform anything else.
Tenebrae factae sunt can be translated as “Darkness Fell”, an extremely apt title for this extraordinary piece of work by Carlo Gesualdo. It’s part of the Responsoria et alia ad Officium Hebdomadae Sanctae spectantia, 1611; the portion performed included the Miserere (Psalm 50) and the Responsories for Good Friday. Basically this is edited sections of the Gospels relating to the Passion, interspersed with later liturgical material; it tells the story of Christ’s final hours in a personal, indeed first person, way, confronting the audience directly with the pain, terror, and grief suffered by a man in the process of being betrayed, abandoned, tortured and killed. Even for people who are not fluent in Latin, the music conveys these emotions powerfully, combining achingly beautiful harmonies with, I don’t quite know how you would describe them, spikes of sheer anguish that sound remarkably (but not unpleasantly) modern.
The sonorous cadences of the Latin words, understood in fragments, (terribilibus oculis, plaga crudeli …flagellatum ducitis ad crucifigendum …tenebrae factae sunt… ) the insistent and imploring repetitions, played with, projected into the angelic spaces of the roof, rolled around like beautifully controlled thunder, pitch you immediately into that quintessentially Catholic experience, the contemplation of terrible suffering. For an ex-convent girl, the urge to fling yourself onto your knees, beg forgiveness and maybe whip yourself a bit was almost overwhelming; but even for normal people, it’s a peep over the edge of a deep and terrifying abyss. Gesualdo (democratically referred to just by his name, but actually a prince) famously murdered his first wife and her lover after surprising them in bed together, and spent the latter part of his life in isolation and deep depression in his castle, tortured by guilt, contemplating the beastliness and sinfulness of human nature and creating astonishing music.
The sounds created by the six singers of the Marian Consort were also extraordinary – exquisitely controlled, piercingly beautiful. You did literally feel pierced by the astonishingly pure and clear top notes produced by soprano Anousheh Bromfield. It is a wonderful pleasure to hear women sing like little boys – no vibrato, no chest resonance, no operatic affectations of any sort – in concert with the fabulously modulated lower tones of the other singers. The music itself was aided and abetted by the venue – the soaring shadowy spaces of New College Chapel, the scent of big wax candles, a brooding numinous presence – it was enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck and make goose-pimples all down your legs.
In short, if you ever get a chance to hear this group perform anything, anywhere, grab it, and if they are performing Gesualdo in a medieval building, trample your loved ones to grab it.