Evening of passion and precision

Superficially, this concert by the Willow Consort had much in common with the performance by the Aragon Consort a fortnight ago. Both were presented by the new umbrella organisation the Peterborough Vocal Collective, both took place at St John’s and, once again, there was a group of black-clad singers mellifluously performing mainly Renaissance music.

But, as the concert continued I was less struck by the similarities than by the differences between the two groups, even though Danny Purtell, bass singer and music director of the Willow Consort was involved in both. For instance, the programme by the Aragons included plenty of secular music as well as the sacred works more usually sung by these members of the Peterborough Cathedral Choir. Whereas, the Willow Consort’s programme remained almost entirely in the realm of the spiritual.

A more important difference was the composition of this chamber choir, consisting of four men and four women. Originally students at York University, the Willows have now dispersed geographically, but still retain more than a hint of youthful enthusiasm and exuberance. Not to mention passion and precision.

But, what differentiated the two choirs above all was the soloistic quality of the Willow Consort. Blending together beautifully into a wholly integrated sound, each singer was nevertheless clearly audible individually. To put it another way, they sounded less like a string orchestra and more like a string quartet. This kind of pure and perfect ensemble singing only comes with careful rehearsal, sensitive listening, and plentiful experience. Acoustics are important too, and here the conditions at St John’s proved ideal.

In an event-packed programme, highlights included the astonishing dissonances, known as false relations, in John Sheppard’s In Manus Tuas, and a totally amazing bottom C produced by one of the basses in Antonio Lotti’s Crucifixus. Not to mention the achingly beautiful penultimate chord in John Tavener’s Funeral Ikos.

In Purcell’s Hear My Prayer a pleasing almost antiphonal effect was produced when tenors and basses began the piece echoed later by sopranos and altos. While William Byrd’s Agnus Dei reversed the process with the women beginning and the men following.

Finally, on a lighter note, and in answer to my pressing question, Danny revealed the origin of the Willow Consort’s name. Searching for a title when the group formed three years ago, talk turned to favourite nightclubs in York, one called The Willow. Good to know music students don’t spend all their time wading through ancient church music!