Sydney Philharmonia Choirs | Stabat Mater
Oct 14, 2023, St Andrew’s Cathedral, Sydney
What a privilege it was to be part of Sydney Philharmonia Choirs’ Australian premiere performance of Sir James MacMillan’s Stabat Mater over the weekend. A few days ago, after attending weeks of rehearsals, and witnessing Artist Director Brett Weymark transform what was, at first glimpse, a somewhat harrowing and discordant bunch of notes on a page into a transfixing musical experience, I decided to write a review of this deeply moving work – from a chorister’s perspective.
There were two distinct halves to this concert. It, as always, began with the choirs’ Acknowledgement of Country, Tarimi Nulay – Long time living here by Deborah Cheetham Fraillon and Matthew Doyle which today, referendum day, felt particularly poignant to be singing. It then progressed seamlessly into Arvo Pärt’s Festina Lente, immediately showcasing the strings’ exceptional quality and their remarkable ensemble cohesion, under the skillful leadership of concert master Fiona Ziegler. A haunting and introspective work, each note resonating with deep contemplation, it exemplifies the Estonian composer’s distinctive minimalist style.
Out of the final held note the first solo bars of Andrew Anderson’s world premiere I Sing in My Heart at first mirrored the contemplative mood of the concert and then burst forth into a joyful full choir sound with sweeping harmonies, before ending once again with a solitary soprano. This lead nicely into the next Arvo Pärt work for the strings Frates, featuring Pärt’s signature tintinnabuli technique. This was a study in simplicity. Sparse yet achingly beautiful melodic fragments intertwined with sustained harmonies.
The second world premiere of the concert was a light hearted and fun interlude – Daniel Brinsmead’s Cantate Domino. A modern colourful setting of a traditional Latin text, with it’s dance-like rhythms and exultant fanfares it was a such a glorious sing before the more sombre work of the concert.
Then the second half…
Sir James MacMillan is a prominent contemporary Scottish composer known for his profound and spiritually inspired compositions. His works often explore themes of faith, suffering, and redemption, and Stabat Mater is no exception, it meditates on the sorrow of Mary, as she stands at the foot of the cross during the crucifixion. The work, in Weymark’s own words is ‘at times violent, at others offering a glimpse of paradise’. It is characterised by its intense emotional depth, featuring beatific harmonies, dissonance, and moments of serene reflection. MacMillan’s composition manages to capture the profound grief of a mother’s suffering and, as Weymark’s program notes suggest, “The context is religious, the circumstances are not… There is something in this text we can all relate to.”
The string orchestra adds incredible depth and richness to the choral textures, from thunderous, brooding, malevolent double basses, to stabbing bow lines and weeping sky high violin solos, the vocal lines often simply emerge from within the string soundscape. Soloists weave in and out of the choral fabric, adding a personal dimension to the narrative as it explores the anguish of a mother witnessing the death of her child and the universal themes of pain, loss, and love. As one can imagine this is not what you’d call ‘easy listening’, the vocal lines call for shouting, wailing and crying sounds but at the same time there are incredible moments of serenity, peace and light.
MacMillan’s composition demands a high level of technical skill and musical precision and Brett Weymark conducted the performers through the tumult with clear vision, accuracy and grace. The intricate harmonies and nuanced dynamics required rigorous rehearsal and discipline but I think the challenges are what make this piece so rewarding to sing. As a chorister, you can’t help but connect with the profound sorrow and empathy contained within the music. MacMillan’s harmonies convey heart-wrenching pain, and his use of dissonance and resolution mirrors the emotional journey of the text.
Singing in St. Andrew’s Cathedral in Sydney is truly awe-inspiring, its vast interior, with its high vaulted ceilings and beautifully designed stained glass windows, creates a sense of reverence and wonder and the music takes on a transcendent quality, but… anyone who has seen a concert here knows that, unfortunately, the vibrant (and loudly, badly amplified) sounds of Sydney Town Hall’s weekend preachers and peddlers leak through those heavy wooden doors. This time however the general city hubbub didn’t bother me and in some odd way it even enhanced the performance. I could imagine myself in Mary’s shoes in those especially serene pianissimo moments of reflection, as life blared on outside the serenity of the church, I could still find a sense of peace here.
The Stabat Mater was a unique and rewarding opportunity to explore the depths of human suffering through the power of music. The piece challenges the skills and emotions of choristers, allowing them to become conduits of profound expression and connection with the audience. It was a privilege to be part of a performance that touched hearts and souls in such a meaningful way. Bravo to all of my fellow choristers in the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs Chamber Singers, and string players, especially the soloists (who were all taken from the choir) for really performing your hearts out! Bravo!
Photography: Simon Crossley-Meates
