The singers of Viva Voce, self-described as New Zealand's most unrestrained chamber choir, have a loyal, enthusiastic following and a well-filled Concert Chamber was admirably served by the first concert of the choir's 2004 season.
Conductor John Rosser likes his concepts and his latest, Songs in Chains, gathered togethervarious pieces born out of captivity and struggle. A multitude of styles was ensnared by the Viva Voce net, from Palestrina's motet Super flumina Babylonis ("not by Boney M" quipped Rosser to the audience) to Hamish Nuttall's arrangement of that Eurovision perennial, Puppet on a String.
Predictably, there was a number of what Rosser carefully identified as Afro-American spirituals, a genre that needs richer vocal resources to ring true.
Of the various solo contributions, only the charismatic Maria Treadaway took fire, lifting Poor Little Jesus to the heavens and visibly inspiring the circle of colleagues around her.
Viva Voce like to come up with surprises, such as Holst's ingenious arrangement of the folksong I love my love as well as challenges, with the four madrigals from Monteverdi's Lamento d'Arianna. Although confident enough, these Italianate beauties needed more suppleness in the line, subtler shading and some of the fullness of sound that the singers brought to the earlier Palestrina setting.
While I was downright irritated by a twee arrangement of Merle Travis' Sixteen Tons and Anthony Ritchie's over-artified take on Bread and Roses, Ritchie's own Timepiece revealed the choir at its most persuasive.
We were now in the prison of the mind, Rosser told us, exploring what once would once have been described as suburban neurosis. Ritchie catches the domestic claustrophobia of Cilla McQueen's poem so cleverly with crowded, clashing phrases and a brilliant setting inspired a performance to match.
There was another New Zealand work on the programme and an unexpected one - Mark Rosser's arrangement of Che Fu's Chains, with Kamo College head boy Stephen Taua supplying cool rap against the choir's sometimes overenthusiastic riffs. It was a hit with all and could well have closed the concert, instead of the self-consciously rousing account of When the Saints Come Marching In that was given us.
