Inspired by a real choir, this movie feels familiar yet new.

While noting the generosity of philanthropists who donate valuable instruments, the composer makes a case for funding the human voice.

  Mahler’s symphonies are at risk of becoming everyday entertainments rather than gala occasions thanks to every conductor with a penchant for late Romantic repertoire anxiously wanting a go. With an over abundance on the market I’m tempted to call for a moratorium despite my sad addiction.   The Eighth is notoriously difficult to capture on disc. Jonathan Nott’s clear-headed, unsentimental approach might work in the concert hall where sheer physicality would carry all before it but it doesn’t register so well here. Part I needs broader tempi for transitions to make sense Despite Nott’s textural clarity it risks degenerating into “all sound and fury signifying nothing” not helped by a slightly cloudy recording. His firm grip works better holding together the sprawling structure of Part II but his reluctance to stop and smell the roses lets key moments pass by.   Cool modernist dissection may work in the other symphonies but the Eighth is the most blatantly theatrical; Part II is an operatic finale in disguise. Strangely both recording and performance click into focus for the conclusion and one is finally swept away in a blaze of glory – if only we’d had some of that rapture earlier. With an…

Not a dry eye in the house as a cappella legends say farewell after 40 years.

Once considered something of a ratbag, Samuel Sebastian Wesley is now regarded as a rather quaint figure, remembered for a handful of popular choral and organ works that make an occasional appearance with Anglican choirs.   History reveals him to have been a colourful character. Despite being the nephew of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, he was born of his father’s teenage housemaid and after a childhood stint in the Chapel Royal, he spent a lot of his early career as a musician for the theatre. Wesley’s penchant for the theatrical was reflected both in his music and in his life. His tenure in various church music jobs was never overly long and his music often attracted trenchant criticism because of its mould-breaking style and form.   While it is good to hear such evergreens as Blessed be the God and Father, Wash me throughly and Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace sung so beautifully, the real contribution of this disc is the opportunity to hear some neglected works in tasteful and disciplined performances. Ascribe unto the Lord, O give thanks unto the Lord and The wilderness and the solitary place are cast as minioratorios featuring soloists and…

Andrew Ford’s eclectic tastes and playful persona, well known from his bitingly witty and perceptive critical essays and radio shows are well represented here in this collection of finely crafted compositions from 2001-2007. The main work, Learning to Howl for soprano, soprano saxophone, clarinet, bass clarinet, harp and percussion, sets verses of Sappho and other mostly women poets across the centuries in an approachable lyrical style – the vocal writing refreshingly natural and idiomatic. The work has an austere, delicate beauty with its sparse accompaniment of harp and percussion and Ford’s keen ear for sonority and colour is much in evidence. Jane Sheldon’s pure tone and accurate intonation interweaves well with the wind obbligatos played by Margery Smith, but the songs would benefit from more dramatic projection and variety of tone on the vocalist’s part. The other lengthy work here Elegy in a Country Graveyard overlays recorded interviews of elderly residents with choir and ensemble to create an evocatively atmospheric depiction of a spectacularly positioned graveyard at Robertson in NSW’s Southern Highlands – a nostalgic tribute if quaintly ‘ABC Radio’ in character with its cawing crows. Three short works complete the disc of which the standout is Snatches of Old…