What kind of excursions do you regularly make on a Saturday afternoon? I suppose one has to make dull domestic visits to supermarkets or DIY centres. Perhaps more pleasurable jaunts are made to the pub or to cultural places like museums or galleries. Now that summer draws closer, the prospect of the beach or the Downs becomes more realistic, too. However, something I didn’t foresee before May was me sitting in a church unless someone was getting married or had passed on. That all changed this Saturday as I went to experience the Sundbyberg Motet Choir of Sweden in St Michael and All Angels Church.
The choir has a charming history; formed 35 years ago as a youth choir in Stockholm and grew into the adult choir it is today, building up a huge repertoire and an incredible oneness.
Having rocked up to the wrong church just before the concert was due to start, I had to hot foot it over the hill from London Road up to Seven Dials. Not the ideal start, but fortunately I didn’t miss much and the cool offered inside the church was refreshing after a frantic crosstown sprint.
I caught the tail end of a set of Scandinavian compositions, a song called Little Flower, which was immediately grabbing – the choir worked in units, much like an orchestra of voice with tribal chants which built up energy and momentum – unique and interesting stuff, which made me glad that I’d arrived at the correct venue in time to catch it.
The programme of songs then took a more classical feel with songs such as John Rutter’s God, Be In My Head and Irish Traditional song, The Salley Gardens displaying a wonderful depth and richness of harmony, tenderness and control. It was with these songs, and several that were to follow, that the whole experience became a “religious” one – there I was, sitting in a stunning church with light pouring in through the stained glass, illuminating the room in reds and pinks as this wall of voices rose and fell, carried gracefully by the incredible natural reverb of the room.
Not all of the songs were comforting swathes of melodious harmony – there was darkness to counter the light – no more so typified by Edward Bairstow’s, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence. The sinister, complex spirals of voice had a menacing intensity that brought to mind the music that might be used for a tense montage in Game of Thrones.
Karl Jenkins’ Adiemus was the one song that involved a smattering of instruments – hand drums, harmonium and a bit of a dodgy recorder solo, but this South African sounding composition had an insistent quality brought about by continual key changes to build the intensity that it became clear was the choir’s calling card.
The highlight of the performance came in the form of American Spiritual song, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, which I’ll admit I’m rather tired of hearing and associate with toffs at England Rugby internationals. However, the Sundbyberg Motet Choir performed it as what I can only describe as one of the most moving things I’ve ever heard – an incredible arrangement of sublime harmony that unfolded in increasing layers of warmth, richness and heavenly beauty. I could have listened to it for hours, the magnificence of the building serving to heighten the experience.
Whereas set closer, Summer Hymn, was never going to reach the heights of Swing Low, it was still full of hope and optimism, effortless and elegant and most of all, comforting. I don’t know if it was the song itself that was comforting or the realisation that coming out on a Saturday afternoon (while others are toiling in IKEA) to witness a pure and moving union of human voice, incredible levels of dedication and skill was a very good decision on my part.
Adam Atkins