Personally, I am not a classical music enthusiast, and this being more or less my first venture into the classical genre I felt some trepidation upon entering the Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall the 4th of December. Surrounded by doting parents, enthusiastic locals and a huge organ providing a slightly imposing backdrop, I felt pretty out of my depth. However, despite of my untrained ears, I was still blown away by the talent of all the musicians and singers involved in the concert, and by the music itself.
The performance began with Mozart’s ‘Requiem’, the University Chamber Choir dressed in black making up an impressive four-row-strong force. Conductor Peter Seymour was immediately transformed into a magician, seemingly using just his enchanted hands to coax sound out of the rows of violinists in the Ensemble and the gifted singers in the Choir. ‘The Requiem’ showcased an abundance of incredibly talented students, with a last minute tenor soloist change not causing a hitch. The alto soloist’s amazing voice also stood out for its elegance and power.
The performance completely enveloped the audience in the music, with the musicians and choir alike converted from individuals to a collective force, submerging the audience in a dreamy reverie. The thing that particularly struck me as a newbie to classical was the journey that the music took us on. Even though I couldn’t understand the words of ‘the Requiem’, the music was still brilliantly moving, ranging from the quietest, most delicate moments to huge, crashing crescendos of noise. In particular, the parts where the female and male voices echoed one another were excellent, the ebb and flow of sound strangely soothing despite the tremendous energy on the part of the musicians.
The array of tones and emotions throughout the whole of Mozart’s ‘Requiem’ ranged from joyous to serene, capably and elegantly carried out by everyone involved. Although it was unusual for me to listen to the music with not much visual stimulation, it was oddly refreshing to focus entirely on the sound produced without distractions.
The second half of the performance, though shorter, equalled the first in quality and verve. Haydn’s ‘Nelson Mass’ sprang into life after a short interval, with a body of sound almost sweeping the audience away. I found the soprano soloist’s angelic voice particularly impressive, alongside the Chamber Choir as a whole. The sheer power of the performance stemmed from the layers and repetitions of sound, and the intensity and passion of the singers was clear to see. The capability of the students really enhanced the accessibility of the genre, and I’ll admit to a twinge of jealousy as I watched people my own age filling the room with these incredible voices.
The crescendos and build ups within the piece were especially transcendent, and the sight of the Choir all raising their voices together was beautiful. There was a real sense of unity, not only within the Choir itself but also between them and the conductor, between the Choir and the Ensemble, and mostly between the performers and spectators. For two hours we were happily transported away, from the heights to the depths of emotion and humanity. As the conductor and musicians took their well-deserved bows to rapturous applause, it was almost a shame to break out of the warm, joyful bubble we had all been enclosed in.