With “voices of spun gold” (BBC Music Magazine), The King’s Singers are masters of vocal harmony. These polished entertainers will sing a mix of ancient and contemporary, classical and popular, all delivered with “pinpoint precision and total rapport” (The Times, UK).

In a rare visit to New Zealand, this irresistibly charismatic ensemble performs at the New Zealand Festival in Wellington and the Auckland Arts Festival on their whistle-stop “Gold” world tour to celebrate 50 years in the business. Double Grammy Award–winners, The King’s Singers are beloved the world over, from London’s Royal Albert Hall to New York’s Carnegie Hall, and now New Zealand!

They will be joined on stage by our country’s internationally renowned choir Voices New Zealand – who will themselves be celebrating the 20th anniversary of their founding at the 1998 New Zealand Festival. This celebratory programme will feature especially commissioned anniversary pieces by contemporary composers Nico Muhly, Bob Chilcott and New Zealand’s Leonie Holmes.

“Supreme polish and breathtaking accuracy” The Dominion Post review of Voices NZ

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Auckland Museum, Saturday 30 September 2017

Karen Grylls, Conductor

Stuart Maunder, Director (staging)

Catrin Johnsson, Vocal Consultant

Review by Alex Taylor

I have to say, for me Gallipoli anniversary fatigue set in a while ago – perhaps some time during last year’s Auckland Arts Festival – so it was with slight trepidation that I made my way to Auckland Museum on Saturday evening. But Voices New Zealand promised an intriguing mixture of new and old, popular song and choral repertoire, and from the outset challenged the reverence we have come to expect from ANZAC events.

The show began with the lusty patriotism of Keep the Home Fires Burning, which in the stark marble Sanctuary space felt weirdly sacrilegious. Such snippets of popular World War I songs were cleverly woven throughout the programme, from the patriotic (Oh! It’s a Lovely War) to the candid (When this lousy war is over).  These numbers provided a tangible context for the rest of the programme, and gave individual choir members a chance to demonstrate their solo chops – Morag Atchison and Lachlan Craig were magnetic in Home Fires and This Lousy War respectively.

Of the ‘classical’ offerings, both Healey Willan’s How They So Softly Rest and Eric Whitacre’s A Boy and a Girl were vehicles to show off the choir’s harmonic versatility and exquisitely judged phrasing.  A Boy and a Girl has become a classic of the modern choral repertoire, with all the Whitacre hallmarks – unresolved suspensions, juicy voicings, added-note chords, rhythmic unison. A whole concert of this music would have become cloying, but the programme was finely balanced: against Whitacre’s neo-Romantic prettiness followed two contemporary New Zealand works that explored a more cynical attitude towards war and its commemoration.

David Hamilton’s Suicide in the Trenches combined militaristic elements – a solo muted trumpet playing the last post, and relentless march rhythms mimicking a snare drum flam – with a sobering poem of Siegfried Sassoon. The almost jaunty straightforwardness of the musical setting seemed (deliberately?) at odds with the starkness of the text, but the point was made nevertheless. Conversely, Jenny McLeod’s Dirge for Doomsday employed a more complex, dissonant tonal language to match the unvarnished truth of the words: “remember the fire and the burning bone.” Written for the anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing, Dirge for Doomsday resolutely eschewed the glorification of war.

Although Voices New Zealand is truly a well-oiled machine and the choral performances were uniformly excellent, they were hamstrung by the rather po-faced presentation of the whole event. This involved spoken monologues in between numbers, and for me the over-enunciated, radio-play approach jarred with the concert setting. I can appreciate that these small testimonies were a way to interlace music of sometimes disparate style and tone, but they came across as arch and awkward. One virtue of the spoken interludes was the clearly intelligible text, not always present in the sung material, despite the best efforts of the choir in a highly challenging acoustic. Even so, the Museum Sanctuary lent the concert an air of ceremony, and served the singers well in more voluminous moments.

At the centre of the programme were two larger works by Finnish composer Jaakko Mäntyjärvi and New Zealand composer Victoria Kelly. Both showcased the textural and tonal possibilities of a capella choir to great effect, with Mäntyjärvi evoking the sea spray and foghorns of a naval disaster in Canticum Calamatis Maritimae. Pepe Becker’s crystalline soprano floated a wordless lament over the top of the texture while Gregory Camp imbued a Latin chant with groove and urgency. Despite textural complexities the piece had a satisfying sense of direction, its rich chromatic lines winding around and between fixed harmonic points.

Where Mäntyjärvi’s composition employed text ritualistically, a heady combination of whispering, drones, vocalise and chant, Kelly’s new commission The Unusual Silence was grounded in concrete documentary artefacts. The composer had pieced together a rich libretto from official orders and propaganda, along with the personal reflections of soldiers killed during the war. The interplay between these two elements gave the work a powerful sense of tension, reinforced by Kelly’s apt characterisation of those twin voices of authority and introspection. From the explosive opening lines, “please exhibit in a conspicuous place” (referring to an enlistment poster) Kelly drew our attention to the cadences and rhythms of a peculiarly formal style of language, and the silences left between.

There’s a danger with the remembrance of war that the music can get bogged down in solemnity, reverence or universalist platitudes. But Kelly’s patient, sustained pacing through the first two movements – the entire second movement built around a dogged pedal note – led to a shattering climax in the third. After a stern warning from some higher authority, “there is to be no cheering”, the pedal note – again sustained through most of the third movement – was finally released as we met the lush, apocalyptic vision of a lone soldier: “there was a glorious sunset”. The full force of Voices New Zealand, combined with a squadron of male high school students, made for a symphonic moment worthy of Sibelius or Elgar, a well-earned emotional payoff.

After that searing moment of clarity, the final movement felt like a great textural haze, depicting the purgatorial swamp of unburied soldiers on the battlefield. There was uncertainty here, uncharacteristically from the choir, but also a compositional ambivalence, a resistance to easy solutions, a willingness to face up to mess. And yet there was something hopeful too, a lone soprano voice, shaky but determined, rising into the stratosphere. Although Kelly writes of her “sense of inadequacy” in doing justice to the subject matter, the nuance and sensitivity of her musical treatment, and especially her assured sense of form, served to lift the work above mere memorialising.

Karen Grylls has long been a champion of New Zealand music, and particularly those composers who are not considered primarily “choral composers” – Ross Harris, Eve de Castro-Robinson, Leonie Holmes. The commissioning of challenging new work is essential in a genre that can at times feel safely, beautifully two-dimensional, and The Unusual Silence is a commission Grylls and Voices New Zealand can be thoroughly proud of.

The concert ended with a tribute to the late Peter Godfrey, who had died earlier in the week aged 95: a movement from Jenny McLeod’s Childhood, There’s a Time to Live. ‘Prof’ Godfrey was hugely influential in the New Zealand choral community, and our wider music scene; the standard of our choirs today can largely be attributed to the tireless work of luminaries like him and like Karen Grylls. It’s remarkable that with so little public funding Voices New Zealand continues to produce work at such a high level.

Acoustics weren’t kind to the immaculate tonal balance conductor Karen Grylls always draws from this choir but they added dramatic punch to two works looking beyond the 1914-18 conflict.

Jaakko Mantyjarvi’s Canticum Calamitatis Maritimae lamented the 1994 sinking of MS Estonia with muttered Latin, jagged textures and the primal force of Pepe Becker’s soprano. Closer to home, Jenny McLeod’s 1984 Dirge for Doomsday raised the nuclear spectre with massive choral reiterations and a grimly ironic snatch of waltz.

Director Stuart Maunder’s inclusion of popular songs, including a haunting Jerome Kern ballad, worked better than the variably effective readings from the singers.

But Victoria Kelly’s specially commissioned The Unusual Silence gave the performance its title and emotional core. The composer’s carefully culled texts offered a 16-minute spiritual immersion, passionately delivered by Voices NZ and a contingent of young men from three Auckland secondary schools.

This was a virtuoso turn from Kelly, travelling from brutal listings, instructions and searing clusters to the madrigalian beauties of the third movement, with a thundering climax that would have fitted well into soundtrack of Lars von Trier’s apocalyptic movie Melancholia.

What: Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir
Where: Auckland Museum
Reviewer: William Dart

It has been an exciting and enlightening journey for all. Maunder writes, “American satirist Tom Lehrer has said ’World War 1 produced many great songs, although it wasn’t primarily a musical’. It’s easy for us now to question the futility of war, and especially as we approach the centenary of the end of the Great War. But people ‘lived’ it; the horror, the loss, the uncertainty. Just how did these people get through the day?”

“This collaboration ‘smudges’ together some of the great popular songs of the time and personal reminiscences and great choral writing. It’s full of truth, regret, joy and a bit of wonder. And there is always the lingering worry ‘there is still the future to be fought’. We are still fighting. I have always loved mixing it up; opera, musicals, popular song. This project gave me my chance to mix it up with choral music… always time for a first?”

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Ross Harris’s commemoration piece for World War 1 premiered at the Otago Festival of the Arts in 2014 and gained instant critical success. Requiem for the Fallen was subsequently performed at the New Zealand Festival in Wellington and the Auckland Arts Festival.

This work was described by reviewers as “Stunningly impressive and emotionally draining” and “… indeed a never-to-be-forgotten experience for all who attended”. For Karen ‘this is a New Zealand requiem, which honours lives lost and love shared; one that is etched deeply in my musical memory’.

Now you can relive this incredible experience – purchase the CD Requiem for the Fallen. Featuring Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir, Horomona Horo and the New Zealand String Quartet.

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Zadok stole upon us, with gentle waft of strings and woodwind, building up to that primal blast of choir and full orchestra, with the 24 singers of Voices NZ Chamber Choir displaying the vocal heft of three times that number.

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Classical review: APO Baroque voices
When: Thursday 3 Aug 2017
What: Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra, Baroque Voices
Where: Auckland Town Hall
Reviewer: William Dart

At the same time we have reworked the VOICES website to more specifically service the audiences for this wonderful ensemble. Propelled by this new identity and online presence we feel equipped to tackle a future with more concerts around the country and also for more international work. A big THANK YOU to Pipi Creative for creating both the new logo and the website design.

New Zealand Youth Choir and Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir, conducted by David Squire and Karen Grylls

Wesley Church, Wellington

Tuesday, 25 February 2014, 6.30pm

An attractive programme and renowned performers had Wesley Church pretty full, including many people sitting in the gallery; this, despite the hefty prices for a concert lasting one hour and ten minutes ($58, $38 child, $53 Friend of the Festival).

The Youth Choir comprised 50 voices, and Voices New Zealand 16, with the result that at full stretch the combined choirs were very resonant in the wooden church. A delightful feature was that members of the choirs read the Shakespeare texts prior to each group of songs. This helped the audience to follow the songs (although the sung words were always projected with great clarity), and to grasp the meanings and nuances before listening to the musical settings; they were read with care and expression. It was gratifying to have the lights on in the church, so that the audience could read the excellent programme notes that gave the titles of the plays from which the songs came, and a few lines about the context of each song.

After the first reading, we heard Caliban’s Song from The Tempest, set by prolific New Zealand choral composer David Hamilton, who was present. This was sung by both choirs, with David Squire conducting. It began with half the choir intoning, while the other half spoke the words in loud whispers. When all sang, a magnificent sound emerged, with skilled, confident production and lovely variation of tone. It was a very evocative setting. Blend, balance and intonation were virtually impeccable.

Following this, the Youth Choir sang three songs set by Vaughan Williams: ‘Full fathom five’, ‘The cloud-capp’d towers’ and ‘Over hill, over dale’. I am very familiar with these supremely beautiful settings, having a recording (yes, an LP) of Swingle II singing them. The accuracy, shaded dynamics and sensitivity to the words was almost as good from the Youth Choir – quite an achievement, given the group’s much larger size. All three songs demonstrated Vaughan Williams’s capture of the music of the words. He did not endeavour to surpass Shakespeare’s wonderful words, but rather to illustrate them.

The same composer’s ‘Willow Song’ from Othello featured fine, controlled legato singing. The simple setting was appropriately sad in tone. The second setting of the same words, by David Hamilton, saw the choir reorganised into two choirs. This more ornate setting was in a minor tonality, and full of feeling.

Jakko Mäntyjärvi (b.1963) (Wikipedia says ‘Jaakko’) is a Finnish composer, choral singer and conductor. His Shakespeare songs are some of the most evocative in the repertoire: ‘Come away Death’ (Twelfth Night), ‘Lullaby’ (A Midsummer Night’s Dream), ‘Double, double, toil and trouble’ (Macbeth; described in the programme note as ‘The three witches’ Mediaeval cookery programme’) and ‘Full Fathom Five’ (The Tempest). These were sung by Voices New Zealand, under Karen Grylls.

The first was a very interesting and descriptive piece. Fastidiously observed crescendos and decrescendos were a feature. ‘Lullaby’ (the one beginning ‘You spotted snakes with double tongues’, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream) was more innovative, but like Vaughan Williams, Mäntyjärvi always put the music at the service of the words, not the other way round. In ‘Double, double, toil and trouble’ some of the words were recited in witch-like voices. ‘Full fathom five’ sounded to be difficult, but it was a beautiful, effective setting, with gorgeous bass notes, like bells sounding deep in the sea.

The same words were set by Richard Rodney Bennett; this gave the most contemporary sound in the programme so far, and was preceded by a single note on a bell. The bell was echoed in the voices by resonant ‘dongs’, of superb timbre.

A second English composer who died recently was John Tavener. His ‘Fear no more’ from Cymbelinewas aptly described in the programme notes as ‘searing and ecstatic with… dissonant harmonies and longheld chords’. Magnificent forte and piano contrasts illuminated the marvellous text. Gerald Finzi’s wonderful setting is familiar, but here and elsewhere the inexhaustible impact of Shakespeare’s words has inspired another worthy setting.

The Youth Choir rejoined Voices on the platform for five songs by Matthew Harris (b.1956), a highly productive American choral composer. The first, ‘Tell me where is fancy bred’ (Merchant of Venice) was given a very straightforward setting; it demonstrated the excellent balance and dynamics of the singers. ‘I shall no more to sea’ (The Tempest) and ‘When that I was and a little tiny boy’ (Twelfth Night) revealed the attractiveness of the settings, and also the skill of the choir with all members not only pronouncing vowels in the same way, but consonants also. The latter song became quite complex and thick in texture.

The fourth song, ‘It was a lover and his lass’ (As You Like It) sounded rather conventional until a key change lifted the action, later reverting to the original key. The final song, ‘When daffodils begin to peer’ (A Winter’s Tale) was written in quite a folksy style – there was even a Kiwi accent on the word ‘to’!

It was interesting to hear a programme of entirely English songs; the performances illustrated Dame Janet Baker’s assertion that English is not a difficult language in which to sing well – at least for English speakers who have been well trained.

The concert ended with two settings of ‘O mistress mine’ (Twelfth Night). Andrew Carter’s was notable for beautiful word-painting and rich, multi-part harmony. Finally, a setting by doyen of British choral conductors, Sir David Willcocks, also rich in word-painting, the placement of the words being even clearer. Interesting modulations ornamented the text.

The entire performance was characterised by captivating finesse, and did honour to Shakespeare. Bravo!

Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir
8pm, Friday 28 February 2014, Cathedral of St Paul, Wellington
Reviewed by William Dart, NZ Herald

There was an air of ritual about Requiem for the Fallen, the major music commission of the New Zealand Arts Festival.

It all took place on a raised stage in Wellington’s Cathedral of St Paul, with audience on either side, which worked well for some shorter choral items from Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir, under Karen Grylls.

The ethereal textures of Purcell’s Hear My Prayer, O Lord gained poignancy with its shivery dissonances aloft in the building’s resonant acoustics.

Schnittke’s Drei Geistlicher Gesange had the singers moving from a circle formation to two opposing groups, delivering the piece’s almost primal passion with real fervour.

The New Zealand String Quartet contributed the central movement of Beethoven’s Opus 132 quartet. There was a hushed gravity to its song of thanksgiving, although the venue was not so kind to the floating scales of its andante sections.

Ross Harris and Vincent O’Sullivan’s Requiem for the Fallen was the key offering of the evening, acknowledging the centenary of World War I with a thoughtful mix of formal and personal, Latin liturgical texts blending effectively with O’Sullivan’s pithy verses.

Bringing together string quartet, choir and the taonga puoro of Horomona Horo, the innate drama of this score did not always need the sometimes distracting to-and-fro that director Jonathan Alver had imposed.

Horo’s exquisitely gauged improvisations ranged from a crystalline koauau introduction to a war-like pukaea in the Dies Irae, that evoked the horrors of hell itself, in tandem with Harris himself on thunderous bass drum.

Voices NZ and Grylls are a potent team and there was pride of ownership in their handling of Harris’ immaculately crafted score. The arching phrases of In Paradisum seemed to leap to heaven itself and, early on, tenor Lachlan Craig eloquently delivered the all-important lines, “He is one of us. His is one of our own.”

William Dart