For someone who was largely self-taught, Poulenc certainly knew how to get the attention of audiences and hold it. In many ways he was your preternatural French composer: elegant, yet always with a touch of rebelliousness; an infectious combination of sense, sensuality and sophistication; clarity and precision in his writing for solo voice, chorus and orchestra. His Gloria, composed towards the end of his life, has one of the most arresting beginnings in the choral repertoire with brass fanfares seemingly signalling a work of epic proportions.
In fact, much of his Gloria surprises and startles the listener on account of its emotional range, contrasts of unashamed glee and lyrical serenity dispatched almost in the twinkling of an eye. It wouldn’t be Poulenc without this curious juxtaposition of the sacred and the sacrilegious. One of the distinguishing features of this performance by the Guildhall Symphony Orchestra and Chorus under the direction of Ludovic Morlot was the way in which infectious enthusiasm married with onward momentum still left sufficient scope for the many moments of inward reflection to have effect.
The hundred or so choristers had been well prepared by Vicente Chavarría and displayed good internal balances, with only a slight hint of weakness in the tenor line. They mustered a bright and exuberant body of sound in the Laudamus te, fully respecting the composer’s marking of Très vif et joyeux, and giving appropriate colouring to the beseeching quality of the repeated “suscipe” in the Agnus Dei section. Here, the exchanges with the soprano soloist, as the music turns slowly heavenwards, were deftly done.
The soloist was the South Korean Seohyun Go. Poulenc delays the soprano’s first appearance until the third of the sixth movements where he introduces into the proceedings the reflective tone of Très lent et calme. Go has a wonderfully lustrous vocal instrument with a creaminess in her top line that added an element of ecstasy for “Rex caelestis” as she soared above the stave. She demonstrated poise and assurance throughout, not least in the unaccompanied “Amen” in the concluding section. Only a lack of weight and definition at the lower end of her register betrayed the fact that she is still at the outset of a promising career.
By the age of eight Poulenc was already playing and singing Schubert songs and at one stage dreamt of a career as an opera singer. He never lost his love of the human voice with its capacity for infinite expressiveness. In his Gloria he scales the heights in grand gestures yet also finds moments of quiet intimacy nurtured by his Catholic faith. As Nadia Boulanger once remarked, he was a bundle of contradictions and entirely paradoxical. How fortunate we are to have this particular piece of inspiration.
Given the conductor’s provenance, one might have benefited in the rest of the programme from other works in the Gallic repertoire. It did lean somewhat in that direction, with short pieces by Lili Boulanger and Debussy, yet the longest work was Mozart’s very last symphony (might Bizet’s delightful symphony in the same key not have been equally appropriate?). Boulanger produced some notably well-crafted and distinctive works before fate robbed the world of her outstanding talent at the age of only twenty-four. Her D’un matin de printemps, written during her final year, gave the members of the Guildhall Symphony Orchestra an opportunity to shine in its changeant characteristics, moving from earthy sonorities in wind and brass to refined sensuousness in the string textures.
These players gave sterling support to the evening’s other soloist, Alannah Makoni, in Debussy’s Rapsodie pour Orchestre et Saxophone. It impresses less through displays of technical virtuosity – there are very few – than in its evocation of exoticism. There are allusions to North African instruments in its use of triangle and tambourine as well as in the piping quality of three flutes. Makoni’s warm and mellow tone on her alto sax ideally mirrored the vocal range of an alto singer, and at one stage the softly billowing accompaniment from the strings gave the performance a satisfyingly airborne quality. By contrast, the opening piece by Gity Razaz, Mother, which was premiered at the Last Night of the Proms in 2021, had little to say for itself, apart from a general sense of awakening followed by the jubilance of dance rhythms.
I did enjoy Morlot’s treatment of Mozart’s Jupiter symphony. There were few nods to period performance practice: no antiphonal violins and somewhat reticent woodwind, nor any undue heightening of the timpani part, but with two natural trumpets adding a thrilling martial rasp to the textures. It was very much a string-based, old-school sound which made the listener marvel yet again at the ingenuity of the composition, not least in the fugal complexity of the concluding Molto allegro. The crisp and incisive playing owed much to Ola Lenkiewicz’s charismatic role as leader, her face frequently wreathed in smiles of joy. Even allowing for the thorough mentorship and preparation by members of the London Symphony Orchestra, these Guildhall players were remarkably assured. The next generation is clearly in good hands.
Alexander Hall
Gity Razaz: Mother; Mozart: Symphony No. 41 in C-major (Jupiter); Lili Boulanger: D’un matin de printemps; Debussy: Rhapsody for saxophone and orchestra; Poulenc: Gloria
Cast and Production Staff:
Alannah Makoni (saxophone); Seohyun Go (soprano); Guildhall Symphony Chorus; Vicente Chavarría – chorus master; Guildhall Symphony Orchestra; Ludovic Morlot – conductor
Barbican Centre, London, 27 September 2024
Top image: Guildhall Symphony Orchestra & Chorus by Paul J Cochrane.