(+++) VOCAL FEELINGS

Hilary Tann: Sacred Choral Music. Capella Clausara conducted by Amelia Leclair; Heinrich Christensen, organ. Navona. $14.99.

Forgotten Voices: A Song Cycle for Voices and Strings. Allison Charney and Adrienne Danrich, sopranos; Jesse Blumberg, baritone; Mark Risinger, bass; Kelly Hall-Tompkins and Ling Ling Huang, violins; Andrew Gonzalez, viola; Peter Seidenberg and Alexis Gerlach, cellos; John-Paul Norpoth, double bass. AVIE. $17.99.

     Special reasons and specific orientations are de rigueur for the appreciation and enjoyment of some contemporary vocal works. Straightforward religious sentiment underlies all the pieces on a Navona CD featuring liturgical choral and organ music by the late Hilary Tann (1947-2023) – and it helps to have some familiarity with Wales, since Tann’s Welsh background and focus are evident in many of the pieces sung by Capella Clausara under Amelia Leclair and played by organist Heinrich Christensen. The divisions on the disc are traditional sacred ones, with organ pieces introducing Advent, Lenten, Whitsun, and Michaelmas – all performed by Christensen with sensitivity and entirely suitable solemnity. After each organ prelude are sung pieces for specific vocal groups: first, The Moor and Wellspring for sopranos and altos; second, Wales, Our Land for flute (Vanessa Mulvey) and the full chorus, and That Jewel Spirit for flute, organ and full chorus; third, Measuring the Distance for two solo voices, flute, organ and full chorus, and Children of Grace for two soloists, organ and full chorus; and fourth, Three Psalms for the full chorus – Luminaria Magna (Psalm 36) including organ, Incline Thine Ear (Psalm 86) including organ and trumpet (Geoffrey Shamu), and Praise, My Soul including organ and two trumpets (Shamu and Liz Jewell). Tann’s expertise in producing religious music for individual voices, massed voices and organ alone is clear throughout this disc, and her frequent references to Wales give the material an unusual orientation for works that sonically are very mainstream indeed: nothing here would be out of place in a church service. The chorus sings with a strong sense of commitment although with sometimes less-than-perfect clarity – specific words get lost or under-emphasized at various points. The music proceeds with a gentle flow typical of works with a sacred purpose, and the pacing is deliberate throughout: an audience not in the right frame of mind for this material will likely find it monotonous despite the variability of the vocal portions. For religiously inclined listeners without direct ties to Wales, Three Psalms will be the high point of the CD, and the comparative familiarity of the psalms’ words will make these choral pieces easier to follow and understand than some of the other works here. Trumpet use in the final two psalms gives them a more magisterial air than the other music on the disc, although the singing itself – to notes that are clear, consonant and unashamedly old-fashioned – is much the same for these pieces as for all the others. Tann’s devotional bona fides are clear throughout this recording, and her expressive presentation of sacred as well as Wales-focused material, although it may be of interest only to a limited audience, is handled with skill and invites listeners to share in Tann’s own feeling of uplift.

     The “uplift” element is entirely secular on a very well-meaning but rather oddly conceived and presented AVIE recording with the title Forgotten Voices. This is 100% a “cause” CD, and anyone not fully supportive of and committed to the specific cause in the same way as those involved in it will find the disc puzzling at best, off-putting at worst. The idea here is to draw attention to the residents of homeless shelters, to humanize them and show that they are just like everyone else – but without naming any of them or identifying them in any other way, even though it is their words that make up the vocal portions of the disc. The CD draws from concerts that have been given at shelters since 2005, with compositions by 15 contemporary composers who no doubt feel their work is contributing to the cause: Steve Sandberg, Jeffrey Scott, Errollyn Wallen, Jon Grier, Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, Courtney Bryan, Kelly Hall-Tompkins, James Lee III, Kevin Puts, Kamala Sankaram, Gabriel Kahane, Carlos Simon, Angélica Negrón, Beata Moon, and Paul Moravec. Whether these composers and the people performing their music are actively helping shelter residents find places to live, or are contributing from their earnings to shelter upkeep or other everyday necessities, is never explained and seems not to be the point. The project was commissioned and pulled together by Kelly Hall-Tompkins and the organization she founded, Music Kitchen, which says it offers “Food for the Soul.” It would perhaps be curmudgeonly to suggest that many residents of homeless shelters need food first for the body – in Bertolt Brecht’s words in Kurt Weill’s Die Dreigroschenoper, “Erst kommt das Fressen, dann kommt die Moral.” (It could just as well be “die Musik.”) But since Music Kitchen does not reveal who any of the homeless people whose words are used on this recording are, there is no way to know what specific, individual needs those contributors may have, or whether those needs were or are being met. So the project comes across as a very well-intentioned but perhaps somewhat misguided attempt to advocate for the essential humanity of the homeless as a general principle. “Thank you so much for being here.” “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” These straightforward words and others like them are the texts included in music that is quite well-made and nicely varied: all the songs are crafted with skill and sung with feeling, and all the instrumental playing is at a high level. Certainly the musical participants feel they are contributing to a greater societal understanding of who the homeless are, and hopefully the contributors of the lyrics received, at least during the performances at their shelters, emotional and psychological uplift. But although this is a strictly secular endeavor, it will be hard for listeners familiar with the famous song Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt – “Saint Anthony of Padua’s Sermon to the Fishes,” so memorably set by Gustav Mahler – to avoid thinking, “Das Predigt hat gfallen. Sie bleiben wie allen.” That is, the sermon – or in this case the musical presentation – was splendid, but afterwards, everything was the same. Wishing that this sort of musical experience will have a permanent impact on shelter residents or CD listeners is, alas, as naïve as Saint Anthony’s piscine preaching.