King's Singers

Last Friday night, taking a calculated risk, J and I went to a performance of the King's Singers at Memorial Chapel. I was on call. Luckily I only got paged three times, slipping out during the applause to answer a calls about a Tylenol dose, discontinuation of a Morphine PCA and the erroneous placement of a percutaneous nephrostomy tube. So I missed three songs, but got to listen to about twelve more.


For those of you who don't know, the King's Singers are a group of six British men who sing a wide range of repertoire with impeccable musicianship and seamless harmony. Each of them has a rich solo voice, but when they sing together - wow. The proverbial chorus of angels.

It's amazing how six lonely a capella singers can fill the space of an entire hall. I've been to a lot of choral concerts in the past year, and a bunch of orchestra and instrumental recitals. So I wasn't prepared for the subtlety of the King's Singers sound. Even though we were in the first half of the audience, I spent most of the concert leaning forward, hoping to capture that extra decibel of music. It may be the most effort I've ever expended in listening.

Their program was divided into two sections, the first an exploration of 20th century music with the theme of Landscape and Time and the second a more lighthearted tribute to pop music. Smack in the middle, at the end of the first act, they sang a song that is still running through my head a week later. Called "Horizons", it's a song written by a Dutch South African about the San people, the peaceful indigenous inhabitants of South Africa who were essentially exterminated by the composer's forefathers.

It's a gorgeous and devastating song with two very skillfully rendered textures - the first a light and airy tune using percussive claps and trills and glissandos. The skeptic part of me would say that it is the epitome of a bunch of older white men trying to "sound" African. Yet having been to South Africa, knowing the way that song and music is part of the black South African language, their sounds rang true.

The second part is a more traditional choral polyphonic bit with soaring melodies and tightly knit harmonies. It comes across as being strong and hearty, whole and grounded, warm like a hearth, until the penultimate line of the song when the voice of San people sings matter of factly

And they killed us, to the far horizon

and the song turns tragic as it tapers away with sung sighs.

So, if you can, I highly recommend the Kings Singer's album "Street Songs". You can hear a sample here:

http://www.amazon.com/Street-Songs-Evelyn-Glennie-Singers/dp/B000007RSM/sr=1-2/qid=1172353630/ref=sr_1_2/104-1002740-9951929?ie=UTF8&s=music