American composer Eric Whiteacre. Photo / Jo Miller
An Evening with Eric Whitacre, presented by Choirs Aotearoa New Zealand, achieved the choral equivalent of a superstar event, giving two of our finest choirs the opportunity to work under this celebrated American composer.
Whitacre comes with an enviable CV that includes carrying off a Grammy in 2012 and reachingmillions with his Virtual Choir project, particularly during the 2020 lockdown when 17,562 singers from 129 countries joined together online to sing his music.
Tonight he was also a charismatic conductor, inspiring the New Zealand Youth Choir to deliver a spellbinding "Lux Aurumque". This is a Whitacre classic, and its rich, slow-moving harmonies, spiced with dashes of dissonance, resonated thrillingly in the spacious surrounds.
The young singers' finesse was even more evident in the gnarlier demands of The City and the Sea, five delightful settings of EE Cummings. Accompanied with gusto by pianist Michael Stewart, these pieces communicated more successfully in broad, soaring phrases than in sprightly syncopation, thanks to the text being lost in the cathedral acoustics.
Words were supplied, on a screen, for the evening's major offering, The Sacred Veil, an hour-long tribute to the late wife of its poet, Charles Anthony Silvestri.
This is a score of considerable cumulative power, opening in sonorous contentment and ending with a sense of spiritual closure. Between we experience life moving inevitably towards death. Silvestri's words tracked medical issues in a chilling chant while a poem by his wife wittily considered hair loss during chemotherapy, sung against Rachel Fuller's rippling piano.
The longest and most moving piece, "You Rise, I Fall", sets the male singers' strong narrative against some remarkable writing for the women, freewheeling glissandi reminding one of Ligeti, yet ending on a major chord.
Voices New Zealand was in superlative form, but would one expect anything less from New Zealand's only professional choir? On the side, pianist Fuller offered finely gauged poetry, while James Bush's cello contributed its own soulful poignancy.