December 4, 2009: The joys of simplicity

There was very little adornment in The Cherry Tree, the program of Christmas songs, carols, and ballads prepared for last night's performance by Anonymous 4 at Herbst Theatre.  The content consisted of a selection of early American songs and hymns supplemented by their medieval "roots" in liturgical sequences and carols.  The melodies were straightforward;  and even the polyphony was relatively moderated (certainly by contemporary standards).  The vocal ranges of the four singers (Ruth Cunningham, Marsha Genensky, Susan Hellauer, and Jacqueline Horner-Kwiatek) were close, although not strictly identical;  and the performance setting was nothing more than four music stands on the stage.  The whole affair was a refreshing alternative to the flamboyance of all-too-many Christmas pageants.

One reason why this simplicity is important is that the words matter.  The music is there to deliver a message, not to overwhelm with its own artistry.  Thus, there is as much emphasis on liturgy as there is in the performances by our own Schola Adventus;  but, in this particular selection, that emphasis tends away from ritual within the church toward the more personally-felt liturgical values of folk material.  Consequently, the texts are as straightforward as the music;  so, even when the text is Old English (complete with those characters subsequently dropped from the current alphabet), the utterances sound familiar enough that one rarely has to consult the translation column.  Anonymous 4 clearly recognized this verbal priority, which is why it was so important that their clarity of diction rose to the same standards as their sense of pitch.

Equally important was the distinct sense of context that they brought to the two sides of the evening's repertoire.  Precision was at its sharpest for the Latin liturgy.  The Old English carols were more relaxed, but with a firm sense of every note to its own pitch.  When the music crossed over into early America, particularly into the southern mountains, a slight sense of portamento began to season the melodic lines, just enough to call attention to the significant shift of both time and place beyond the language of the text.

A more formal liturgical presence only emerged at the end of the evening's program.  After taking their bows, the singers stepped in front of their music stands to face the audience directly.  They then intoned a polyphonic setting of "Ite Missa Est" (the Mass is ended), then responding on behalf of the "congregation," "Deo Gratias" (thanks be to God).  The audience seemed to appreciate the way in which they delivered this farewell.