By WILLIAM DART
It's nigh impossible these days to watch a horror film without being assaulted by the opening chorus of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. So much so that whenever I hear the ominous tread of "Fortuna imperatrix mundi" I'm more inclined to think of the evil-eyed Damian than any
medieval ode to fortune and fate.
This shrewdly composed piece provides an attractive and not too demanding sing, and several Auckland choirs joined voices in taking up Orff's challenge.
Ranging from the Franklin Community Choir and the New Zealand Hsiang-Yin Taiwanese Choir, to the North Shore Ladies Choir and the Pakuranga Choral Society, the choristers gave a valiant account of the work to a sizeable and appreciative audience.
Apart from a nagging thinness of sound in the upper reaches of the sopranos' register and the occasional rhythmic looseness, the piece received a solid enough performance, with some sterling contributions from singers in the various children's choirs.
The score would have had more impact had it been left to sing for itself, but conductor Brian Kay insisted on giving a preliminary introduction after the opening chorus and then breaking in between sections to keep us aware of what lay ahead.
Kay's bright-eyed chatter sometimes disconcerted. At one point, when he warned us that Orff was pushing the soloists "into realms of discomfort", many must have steeled themselves for the worst; when he pointed out that some of the tenor solo was "so high only sheep dogs can pick it up", they may have breathed a sigh of relief.
In fact, Paul Chappory was indeed well within human hearing when he went for his top notes in "Olim Lacus Colueram" and it was not a comfortable experience.
The other soloists, soprano Morag Atchison and baritone Seamus Casey, although generally sound, needed more tonal relaxation to get the most from their lines.
Virgil Thomson once dismissed Carmina Burana as monotonous without its orchestral accompaniment. He was right. Despite energetic pounding and sharp rhythmic turns by pianists Thomas McGrath and Timothy Evans, along with a quintet of percussionists led by Judy Stokes, the big band was sorely missed.
