Monteverdi: Vocal Glory, Vocal Splendor: Mystery and Emotion in Your Ear
St. Martin’s Lutheran Church, June 1
Songs sacred, secular, and straddling those two realms, all by Italian Renaissance composer Claudio Monteverdi, provided the material for this Conspirare event, another celebration of the magnificent voices of this exquisite choir, as well as a celebration of the chorus’ 10th year. Under the leadership of Craig Hella Johnson, Conspirare offered a program of that which it does so well: powerful, ethereal song that seems to come directly from the distant, historical source yet has all the immediacy of new work.
Monteverdi’s songs flowed in rich waves of sound, and in selections like the opening Adoramus te, Christe or the downshift in tempo in the Credo of Mass for Four Voices, Conspirare evoked rich textures. Monteverdi’s music didn’t just undulate regally, either. There were soaring and exciting passages, such as the “Hosannas” of the Mass and the opening “Cantate” (“Sing!”) of Cantate Domino, which exploded with joy. And there was still plenty of room for engaging patter, as heard in Pur ti miro, pur ti godo, a selection from the opera L’Incoronzione di Poppea.
While the chorus could not be faulted for the quality, consistency, and sheer elegance of its singing, Johnson might reconsider staging selections in an attempt to enhance their dramatic qualities. This has let Conspirare down repeatedly. A mighty conductor and director (and a gifted pianist who took his turn on the harpsichord for a number of songs), Johnson often finds artifice when adding some theatrical dynamic to a song. In the Distler concert last season, moving narrators were a clumsy distraction; here, placing the chorus in the balcony behind the audience for much of the first half of the concert, including the entire Mass and a gorgeously sung duet, Ego dormio, et, cor meum vigilat, by Stefanie Moore and David Farwig, left the audience without a focal point. If the purpose was to summon some sort of holy sound from on high, that effect was diluted by voices that sounded miles away while stranding the audience below to stare at miniature JBL speakers and wall sockets and beige bricks and homemade devotional banners. Conspirare is a chorus of human voices, humans who, in their beautiful singing, connect to the emotion and mystery of their songs, and it is all there to see on their faces — let’s see those humans!
The second half of the performance, thankfully, saw the wonderful performers back among the mortals on terra firma, working through madrigals and selections from the 1610 Vespers. Especially noteworthy was the madrigal Si ch’io vorrei morire (Yes, I would like to die), a troubling, haunting song of a lover enraptured by a kiss. The operatic selection, Pur ti miro, pur ti godo (I behold you, I rejoice in you), another lover in thrall to a beloved, was equally gorgeous as sung by Stephanie Prewitt and Emily Lodine. To be fair to Johnson’s directorial creativity, in Audi coelum (Heaven hear), the placement of a single singer, Chris LeCluyse, behind the audience to echo (in Latin wordplay) the last word of a stanza, worked to fine dramatic effect. That piece spotlighted Karl Dent, and if any one singer stood out on the night, it was tenor Dent, eager and strong for a host of solo sections.
Overheard at intermission was one longtime listener telling a first-time attendee of the “groupie” mentality of Conspirare’s audience. Johnson pointed out that this audience might be the best listeners in town; “We can feel you listening,” he said. Given the quality of the choir, its depth and humanity, Johnson and Conspirare make that listening sheer pleasure, and surely their fan base — the groupies — will continue to grow.
This article appears in June 6 • 2003.