Originally posted by Chris Watson
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CE Cathedral and Abbey Church of St Alban Wed,19th Feb 2014
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It's funny isn't it how one's view of things changes with the years? As a music student (and for a while after) I became very sniffy about much of the Anglican staple repertoire I had sung in my yoof (Wesley, Stainer, Sranford, Bairstow, et al) realising that maybe it wasn't out of the top drawer musically speaking. But with passing years a certain affection grew back...and remains. I'm all for expanding repertoire both backwards and forwards in time. And if I may be allowed a plug, I wish the post-Purcell period (Croft, Greene,Boyce, etc) was better represented on music lists. It often requires some good solo voices, but there seem to be some around in cathedral and college choirs these days (!).
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Originally posted by Miles Coverdale View PostIndeed it is [nonsense], from beginning to end.
Scoffers may like to read Jeremy Dibble's notes from the Winchester/Hill Hyperion recording:
For lo, I raise up, Op 145, Stanford’s most dramatic anthem, was composed in 1914. Through the analogy of Habakkuk’s prophetic writings, Stanford sought to express his own sense of horror at the war, of its needless destruction and of future deliverance. This is powerfully evident in the first part of the anthem, set in F minor, in which the restless choral lines are tossed about by the turbulent (quasi-orchestral) organ accompaniment. Yet, although initially Habakkuk’s text (taken from chapters one and two) is infused with a sense of woe, its conclusion is concerned with hope and the fulfilment of God’s purpose. In the certainty that all enemies shall be vanquished with the establishment of God’s order, Habakkuk’s message is one of consolation, a sentiment that is affirmed in Stanford’s climactic cadential phrase ‘We shall not die’. Building on this declaration of spiritual confidence the momentum increases, animated by a sense of divine destiny (‘The vision is yet for the appointed time’) and an impassioned acclamation of faith (‘For the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord’) which is tempered only by the sudden and compelling stillness of the coda (‘But the Lord is in his holy temple’). Here the memories of violence and dread are dissolved in a vision of peace and awe.
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I think that deserves a round of applause, Keraulophone. As I said earlier, the musical language and musical sentiment are 'of their time' and need to be accepted as such.
BTW there was a glorious bit of tautology from N.Kenyon on CD Review this a.m. (discussing Hayndn's Trauer Symphony)..."the general zeitgeist of its time". Oh dear.
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Originally posted by ardcarp View PostAs I said earlier, the musical language and musical sentiment are 'of their time' and need to be accepted as such.
In any case, appealing to Old Testament theology is inlikely to convince me of its merits, I'm afraid.My boxes are positively disintegrating under the sheer weight of ticks. Ed Reardon
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Originally posted by Miles Coverdale View PostIsn't saying that something is 'of its time' just excusing its general naffness? It is strange to think that Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire and Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring were both written shortly before this particular piece of Stanford.
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Perhaps I should re-define 'of its time' in relation to the style of music prevailing in Anglican worship....which is still not 'of its time' of course, and unlikely ever to be.
Slightly unfair to quote Pierrot Lunaire and The Rite, but we did have an English composer who was marching with the times. Holst's Planets (much over-played on R3, well Mars and Jupiter anyway) is quite remarkable having also been written c.1914 - 16.
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Originally posted by Miles Coverdale View PostIsn't saying that something is 'of its time' just excusing its general naffness? It is strange to think that Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire and Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring were both written shortly before this particular piece of Stanford."The sound is the handwriting of the conductor" - Bernard Haitink
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Good to hear Lord of all hopefulness (which can be rather naff) tastefully done and a nice segue into the Bridge Adagio. While modern registration aids must make "cockpit management" easier for organists, I still admire the way they achieve a (more or less) seamless gradation of dynamics in pieces like the Bridge, Nimrod etc.
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Originally posted by Petrushka View PostNo, I don't think that it is. Surely, any parallel between the Schoenberg, Stravinsky and English church music in Edwardian times is a false one as they are of totally different genres each developing in their own way?My boxes are positively disintegrating under the sheer weight of ticks. Ed Reardon
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While modern registration aids must make "cockpit management" easier for organists, I still admire the way they achieve a (more or less) seamless gradation of dynamics in pieces like the Bridge, Nimrod etc.
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Originally posted by ardcarp View PostAt a certain RC abbey, the organist rarely touched a stop-knob. His right foot was constantly tweaking the roller and/or the swell pedal whilst his left foot jabbed hopefully at the bottom octave of pedals. This was all a long time ago, I hasten to add.Last edited by Vox Humana; 23-02-14, 23:01.
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As this was of my era (in terms of singing daily in another foundation) the whole thing was blissful for me to hear (several times over), not least in sheer musicality, blend and vocal quality. OK, so the psalms are seriously slow, but so carefully considered, yet I do so hate that Gloria pointing. That aside, simply aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
In nostalgic yearning for the days of Roy Massey, Christopher Robinson and Richard Lloyd (to say nothing of the saintly BR).
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