The Symphony Choir of Cape Town

Archive for the ‘Stories from the Choir’ Category

A WORD ABOUT OUR CONDUCTOR

 We members of the Symphony Choir of Cape Town have had the privilege of being under the direction of Alexander Fokkens for the past six (?) years. During that time we have seen the maturing of a gifted young musician into a conductor of the finest calibre. His initial youthful impatience and frustration with singers, some of whom were not committed to practising their notes at home between rehearsals, or others who felt they had sung some of the works at previous concerts and therefore had no need to work afresh at the notes, I personally found understandable. It has been quite remarkable to witness and experience how the professional Alexander has faced these unneccesary time-consuming challenges, and, how he has come to handle these frustrations with a sensitivity towards the choir as a whole, is laudable.

During the choir’s final rehearsals for both Carmina Burana in Octoober 2011 and now Frostiana, we have had the joy of witnessing Alexander at work with the UCT Wind Band – a group of +/-50 studenst at the UCT College of Music who have accompanied us in these works.His painstaking way of enabling each instrumentalist to tune his or her instrument to perfect pitch is fascinating to observe. His empathy as a person together with these young musicians, at one with them in their quest for the making of the music, is evident in the very way he coaxes them to achieve the sounds he is wishing for, tempering his occasional admonishings with sparkling bursts of humour.

Music is not only of instruments and sounds and synchronicity with the complexities of a score, but it is deeply of the human soul, of  the spirit. It is of  the heart, of the rhythm of the heart-beat,  the rhythm of all life. We all need to belong, to feel an inner spiritual connectedness with the other, to sense a harmonising of lives, enahancing our wellbeing and wholeness as individuals in community. Music involves the performer and the listener in a connectedness that fathoms our human withinness. And therein lies the secret of Alexander’s effectiveness as a conductor. He has an innate awareness of what music is about in the grreater scheme of being alive. Therefore the intensity and integrity of his way of training and rehearsing a choir and instrumntalists towards achieving a performance that creates community, creates belonging…..indeed, manifests love.

It is a huge privilege to belong to a choir under such inspired leadership. Hopefully our public performances will inspire others to join.

HARRY WIGGETT

15.05.12

I can’t quite explain it, but there always seems to be a vibe in the buzz when performers and audience start arriving for a concert that signals: We’re in for something special!

And last night in St. John’s Church, Wynberg it was just so. The concert began with Handel’s rousing Zadok the Priest, Alexander energising his musicians and singers into an immediate unity of spirit and intent, the resulting performance stunning the audinece into a burst of jubillant appreciation.

Organist Richard Haigh displayed his skills admirably on the St.John’s organ with a confidently pleasing rendering of Karg-Elert’s Nun Danket Alle Gott…….. which was followed by him accompanying the choir in Randall Thompson’s beautiful Choose Something Like A Star from Frostiana.

After the interval Alexander conducted the Rutter Requiem with a deep sensitivity, maintaining a total connectedness to each department of the choir, as well as the members of the small chamber orchestra and organist Richard Haigh and soloist Beverley Chiat. It was a most satisfying experience and St John’s proved to be an excellent venue.

It was quite evident, to me at any rate, that Alexander held this work in his heart and not only in his interpretive mind or by the reins of his impressive musical ability. His spirit of prayerfulness embraced not only the performers but also the audience resulting in what I could only describe as a most enriching and satisfying worshipful experience. As the applause finally subsided one was aware of a deep inner joy welling up in all who were there, performers and audience alike. It all seemed of the heart, from the heart, to the heart.

And, what more could any composer ask of his work?

 FOR THE LOVE OF MUSIC

By Nadia Essop

Miss Pretty Yende won the World Opera Competition, Operalia 2011. Operalia is an annual event that attracts hundreds of hopefuls from across the world. The soprano triumphed in 3 categories! Pretty Yende is a South African – she is of Zulu ancestry.

One may wonder what the colour of her skin, her small town roots, or her cultural heritage have to do with her credibility as an opera singer. Nothing… Except perhaps, as reason to pause and reflect on our South African musical past. During Apartheid it was undoubtedly a different experience for gifted young singers, as well as for members of the audience.

 My mother loves to reminisce about the ‘good old days’, how she would endure the 60 km expedition from Paarl to Cape Town, to attend the opera. The train journey would involve a segregated ticket office, a segregated pedestrian bridge, and separate carriages according to the colour of one’s skin. She would sit in the gallery of the Cape TownCity Hall, mesmerised by the music, the sets, and the unfolding drama. But her reminiscence invariably concludes with the same recollection: how, at the end of a performance, she was approached by a stranger, who was astounded that someone like herself – a person from a different culture and race – could appreciate classical music. All these years later, she still mutters and shakes her head in disbelief.

When my mother was young, classical music and musical instruments were considered a status symbol, a privilege which few people from our side of  town could afford. But our community was not bereft of musical talent. I recently went to visit the retired tenor, Mr Gerald Samaai, at his home in thePaarlValley. His wife, Serena, hauled out albums bulging with photographs and newspaper cuttings. We were ready for a saunter down memory lane.

 As a young man, Gerald Samaai went toJohannesburgto pursue studies towards a teachers diploma – a sensible career choice. But fate had other plans. Music teacher Stenck Grijzenhout was walking past the dorm one morning, when he heard singing emanate from the showers. He offered Gerald Samaai singing lessons.

It was 1959, the Apartheid era. Being talented and passionate about singing was not enough. As a coloured opera singer, the pursuit of his dream would involve an obstacle course of discriminatory laws. Even so, Gerald Samaai embraced his vocal training.

 Once back in theCape, he joined a cultural organization based in District Six, the Eoan group. He would travel from Paarl toCape Townfor rehearsals, usually after work or over weekends. Nobody was compensated for travelling expenses, and neither were they paid for performances. Referring to the Eoan membership fee, he chuckles, “we were the only singers who had to pay to sing!”

Furthermore, few venues were available to them because of Apartheid policies governing group areas, freedom of movement, and the mingling of the races. They often staged productions at theCape TownCity Hall, a barrier segregating the audience. But there’s no trace of self-pity, “ Dr Joseph Manca, our musical director, and Alessandro Rota, our vocal trainer, urged us to get ready, to push harder. We did not refer to themselves as ‘coloured singers’, rather as ‘excellent singers’”.

Both Joseph Manca and Alessandro Rota were of Italian descent, and at times the singers costumes were made inItaly, and sent toSouth Africain time for their performance.

 Emerging artists of any era have a difficult time launching their careers, and talent is hardly enough to guarantee success. But the obstacles facing artists during Apartheid must have been disheartening. During its 79 year existence the Eoan group has had to navigate the ever-changing political landscape and its challenges, as well as how Eoan is perceived and received by the community they had set out to serve.

 When asked why he persevered, Gerald Samaai replies, “for the love of music.” His diligence bore fruit, and he performed all overSouth Africa: Verdi’s La Traviata, Rossini’s Barber of Seville, Donizetti’s Elixir of Love, Verdi’s Rigoletto. He sang his way toAberdeenandLondon, and he always flew home again, to Paarl.

Although much is left to be desired – such as adequate state funding for the arts -South Africahas changed, we have come a long way. Pretty Yende’s costumes are probably also sewn inItaly – she is currently a resident singer at La Scala Opera inMilan,Italy. In a world of possibilities one wonders, whether in time, she too will fly home again toSouth Africa.

11 January 2012

Carmina Burana: quest for redemption?

By Nadia Essop

September 2011, Baxter Auditorium, Cape Town. Maestro Alexander Fokkens sweeps his baton and unleashes ‘O Fortuna’, a gateway to some primal energy. Goosebumps crawl across the flesh, the heart pounds, and there is no time to exhale. The choir falls from fortissimo to pianissimo, and a steady plea ensues. But nothing is as it seems. Below the surface of crisp words brews something unsettling, something urgent. The murmur steadily swells, until its force is let loose on one long breath: ‘Let us mourn together, for fate crushes the brave.’

  The story of the Carmina Burana begins over 700 years ago. The Catholic Church was the most powerful authority during the Medieval Times, and regulated all aspects of life. Even so, there was room for rebellion. The Goliards were groups of clergymen, poets, intellectuals and students who wandered through the landscape of the Dark Ages. They carried the flame of truth through their plays, poetry, and songs. Their poems, though in essence a form of resistance, reflected observations about life, love, debauchery, nature, and the fickleness of fate.

In 1803 an old manuscript (circa 1230) was discovered in a monastery in Bavaria, Germany. It contained hundreds of Goliard writings, and remains the largest surviving collection of medieval poetry. It had been waiting for 573 years!

 Carl Orff  the composer, was prepared when fate knocked at his door: he had a passion for the languages of antiquity, and he was experimenting with new forms of music. Much like the Goliard poetry was concise, Carl Orff wanted to simplify music to its basic components. From the  hundreds of poems written in Latin, old French and German, he selected 25. These he set to his own music, in an arrangement that was innovative for its time.

The Goliards roamed throughEuropein pursuit of their truth, vigilant of the power of the church. Carl Orff lived under Hitler’s reign. He had to navigate his artistic ambitions through the dangers of a horrific era. Conflict situations compel every individual to take a stand, to make choices and sacrifices – musicians are not exempt.

 The Carmina Burana became Carl Orff’s greatest success, and O Fortuna its most recognizable tune, but it came at a price. Some of his personal choices during the war, continue to cloud his legacy: was he a Nazi sympathiser, was he a fence sitter, was he wracked with guilt, …

On the other hand, Carl Orff’s legacy includes an altruistic body of work. His Orff-Schulwerk is an integrated approach to teaching music and movement to children. It is still used and respected by educationists worldwide.

Above all else, his music speaks for him. Carmina Burana transcends the meaning found in words, but is paradoxically dependant on the energy of these words. The music speaks in turn of wrath, lyricism, hysteria, humour, divinity. O Fortuna in particular, has a pulsing life-force that begs the question: at what price redemption?

Reflections on the Bach Concert held in April 2011 – By Choir member, Rev Harry Wiggett (bass)

 I have a tale to tell:

 For Jean and me it was a very special event:

 Some years ago Archbishop Desmond Tutu made it possible for our younger son, David, to complete his schooling – standards nine and ten – at Bishops provided he went as a boarder. Quite a challenge for a teenage boy to join such an established fraternity of scholars at that stage of his schooling. But, it paid dividends inasmuch as David became afire for education and now, on the eve of his 39th birthday has been appointed Head of Aurora Independent School in Johannesburg.

 At the beginning of his matric year he was appointed head-of-choir at Bishops and we had the immense joy of worshipping in the Bishops Chapel and hearing the Magnificat (but not the Bach!) sung as part of the Evening Service. And so it was very special for Jean and me too be singing – to the glory of God and in thanksgiving for David’s new appointment - in a venue that was influential in his spiritual formation and his wholeness as a person.

 On the day before the concert I put my back out, and, because of the increasing discomfort felt, at one  stage, that I might not be able to sing. The fact that it was likely that the choir would be required to stand throughout the performance weighed heavily in favour of my not singing.

 However, Jean asked two of her prayer-friends to pray about this. I meanwhile donned concert raiment and we made our way solemnly to Bishops. 

 You can imagine my deep down joy when I discovered chairs being moved into the sanctuary area for the choir! I knew all would be well. My back would last the rigours of the Wachet Auf and the Magnificat.

 And so, as the singing of the Verdi Requiem in the City hall with the Orchestra under Victor Yampolski was a dream come true; so Sunday afternoons’ performance of the Magnificat in the Bishops Chapel (with our very dear friend Marion Lewin playing her cello) and Alexander conducting those superb musicians and soloists was a dream come true and a fitting act of gratitude for what the Bishops Chapel has meant to us for many years.

 Just thought you’d like to share our joy!