BY JOHN GLOVER
Thomas Tallis’ England
Australian Brandenburg Orchestra
Melbourne Recital Centre, 24 February
What’d you miss?
- A tour through 16-17th Century England
- Chilling tensions in the monarchy and the church
- Vaughan Williams played on period instruments
Editor’s note: John Glover blends arts criticism with historical fiction in this unique and inventive review. Join the writer on this journey, transported from the Melbourne Recital Centre into historic England through the music of ABO.
What was it like to serve under four different monarchs?
What was it like to change your religious beliefs by force every handful of years?
What was it like to actually live back then, in a period of instability and turbulence?
These were the big questions confronting me when I arrived at the Melbourne Recital Centre for the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra’s first concert season of the year: Thomas Tallis’ England.
Though I was positioned in a rather plush seat, I soon realised this would not be a standard concert. This was, in fact, a tour directed by Artistic Director Paul Dyer where the audience would journey through a diorama of 16-17th Century England, to witness all the music it had to offer while also learning about this time of rapid change and development.
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We start our journey inside Westminster Abbey, as Charles I of England is crowned in front of us. We stare in awe as we witness history taking place before our eyes, all the while ABO organist Heidi Jones performs Orlando Gibbon’s Prelude in G Major. This piece is elegantly performed and resonates in the hearts of royalty and countrymen alike.
Well, for most people.
Some fellow men and women watching a little reserved from the celebrations, disconnected in what should be a joyous exhibit of patriotism. It all seems a little strange.
As soon as the crown is placed on Charles’ head, the crowds vanish and dusk falls from outside. The bustle of the coronation is replaced by a peculiar emptiness as we realise how small we are in this monumental space. Marvelling at the intricate ornamentations of the church we do not realise that the ABO Choir have set itelf upon the altar before it starts to sing William Byrd’s Ave Verum Corpus. The blend of the singers’ voices seems to expand the space of the church in a metaphysical realm, opening the gates to Heaven while our tour beholds the ancient monks in their worship.
We take a seat on the pews as a Christian mass suddenly takes place. It is here that the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra enters the space and performs an arrangement of Gibbon’s hymn Drop, drop slow tears. The timbre and nuances of the stringed instruments breathes new air into the life of the music, particularly when the choir performs the same hymn shortly after.
Following performances of several other hymns by Gibbons, I can’t help but feel humbled by the music and its use for a religious purpose rather than a showy mess of virtuosity.
Our tour takes us to the English Royal Court at the dawn of the 17th Century. Dukes, duchesses, servants and lords mingle in the court and, one by one, make their way to their seats for the performances by the ABO Orchestra and Choir. It is here the performers present to us Henry Purcell and George Handel with such sincerity and authenticity. What really stops the show, however, is the performance of Purcell’s Cold Song from King Arthur by countertenor Max Riebl, accompanied by the orchestra. The chilling personification of the cold spirit by Max is something to behold as it reflects the tensions with the recently reinstated British monarchy – What power art thou, who from below hast made me rise unwillingly and slow? Some of the noble figures wince at this very line.
Our final leg actually brings us back to the Melbourne Recital Centre, settling back in that plush seat where I started this evening. Everything seems normal enough; the orchestra and choir are taking place on the stage and the air is alive with anticipation. Paul Dyer stands on stage as bold and confident as ever as a soft glow radiates from him even within the darkness. He waves his hands and the sound of the choir is both strong and elegant, legato yet staccato as they perform some of Thomas Tallis’ most iconic works. The choir starts off with If ye love me and Agnus Dei from Missa puer natus est nobis; pieces which are performed beautifully and showcase the composers ingenious soundscapes.
The final highlight of the concert arises with a pair of works: Tallis’ masterful hymn Why fumeth in fight performed by the choir and Ralph Vaughan William’s Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis – the very same theme – presented by the string orchestra on period instruments. Though both works are remarkably similar, to me they reflect upon the common links that bind the past and the present. The original hymn is not only performed spectacularly, but it ties together what we have seen of 16-17th Century England: instability in the monarchy and the rapid turnover of religious faiths. The Fantasia may seem like a modern work that is out of place on the program, but I believe that its performance highlights these past public issues, bringing them to a present-day context. It questions us and provokes us to think: How can we be different from the past? How can we work harmoniously to ensure the greater good of our society?
Tonight, I did not just learn what it was like to live in 16-17th Century England. I experienced it.
*
As the lights turn back on and the audience files out, I look towards the stage scanning the architecture of the Elizabeth Murdoch Hall. As my eyes travel, I spot the faintest silhouette of a figure that appears to be sitting on the chair in the stage corner. The figure gestures what appears to be the letter T with their hand, and slowly fades into the warm glow of the light.
Why fumeth in fight?
Images of ABO supplied. Westminster Abbey by Crux [CC BY-SA 2.5], via Wikimedia Commons; B&W illustration of Handel Commemoration 1784.
