Paul Carr (b. 1961)
Awakening (2024)
Sam Furness (tenor)
Bournemouth Symphony Youth Chorus, Bournemouth Symphony Chorus
Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra/Gavin Carr
rec. 2024, The Lighthouse, Poole, UK
Texts included. 14 poems by Stephen Feltham (b. 1947)
Reviewed as a download
Rubicon Classics RCD1092 [47]

When I call a piece of music ‘accessible’, as I do here, I feel that I need to be extra careful with my phrasing. It can too easily come across as dismissive or patronizing, and I do not intend that whatsoever. I really loved Carr’s Awakening; I’ve enjoyed it through multiple listens, and I hope more people will give it a spin. But the challenge for me is that what I liked about it – the immediacy, emotional accessibility, the contemporariness – can all easily be misconstrued. I love the opposite style too, just to make clear my bona fides. I wholeheartedly enjoy twelve-tone music. I’ve loved works by Berio and Boulez, Finnissy and Ferneyhough. I once downloaded Kaikhosru Sorabji’s Sequentia Cyclica for a transatlantic flight because I thought it would be an interesting way to pass the 8.5 hours we would spend in the air – and it was! But complexity is, in my opinion, one means to an end. It is not the only way to write compelling, engaging music. There is also Saint-Saëns’ famous dictum, “…he who does not get absolute pleasure from a simple series of well-constructed chords…is not really fond of music.” I can’t argue with that!

With that preamble out of the way, let’s turn to the characters involved in this CD. First there is Paul Carr, a largely self-taught composer and operatic director originally from Cornwall. His career really seems to have taken off in 2011 with his Requiem for an Angel, performed by the Chorus Angelorum with the Bath Philharmonia, conducted by his brother, Gavin Carr. Those same musicians recorded his Seven Last Words in 2013, and Chorus Angelorum/G. Carr has also recorded an album of his choral music in 2022 under the title I Offer You Love. He has also been anthologized a few times for his Air for Strings, which prompted John France to write an article arguing that it is not really a piece of ‘light music’ after all. This is, in essence, where my review began as well. Carr is approachable and emotive; he should not be written off on that account.

In Awakening, Paul and Gavin Carr have teamed up once again, but this time they are joined by the Bournemouth Symphony Chorus and Orchestra. As an aside, I scrolled through some of Bournemouth’s releases for this review, and I found myself pleasantly surprised at how many knock-outs they’ve had: Mussorgsky with Serebrier, a Stanford cycle with Lloyd-Jones, Weill, Glass and Bernstein with Alsop, Alwyn with Judd… maybe I am just slow to realize, but I’ll now be mentally earmarking Bournemouth for future releases! They acquit themselves very well on this disc as well: sensitive, warm playing with lots of colour.

The soloist in Awakening is tenor Sam Furness, who was previously unknown to me. He has received rave reviews in opera circles for his Tchekalinski and Cavaradossi (“ardent and expressive”), and was described as a “[Captain] Vere in the making” for a minor role he sang in Billy Budd. 

There is one other artist I should mention, however, and that is poet Stephen Feltham, who provided the fourteen poems that make up the text of Awakening. They are included in the booklet. On the one hand, I want to say that they made me wince a little bit with their occasional faux-archaising, their frequent insistence on rhyme, and the general impression they give of working rather hard to be in iambic pentameter. This is, of course, the perennial issue in both opera and oratorio, isn’t it? Lots of tremendous music has been paired with words and ideas far sillier than Awakening’s. And, so, on the other hand, I think they work just fine as lyrics (not poems) in a kind of impressionistic sense. 

The organising principle behind Awakening is the four seasons. It is, as Carr says, ‘almost a choral symphony’, with the themes of hope, renewal, and the passage of time in the forefront. Carr has already re-worked Vivaldi’s Four Seasons as a choral work, and his Thomas Hardy opera (Under the Greenwood Tree) takes place across four seasons as well. Coincidentally, only a few weeks ago I reviewed Narbutaitė’s Centones Meae Urbae for MusicWeb, which describes Vilnius in each of the seasons as well. I don’t mean to make a specialty of this – it was a total fluke that both of these works struck me so powerfully.

We open with the Spring Equinox, of course, and right from the start Carr shows a gift for intriguing, fresh melodic ideas that are nevertheless easy to absorb and to like. When he has a chorus to hand, things get even better; Carr’s vocal writing is accomplished and varied. If you enjoy other popular contemporary choral writers such as Whitacre and Rutter, I think you will enjoy this as well. There is a delightfully fun melody and dance rhythm he introduces around 2:30 that comes back throughout this movement, which gives everything a sense of momentum and memorability. Awakening of Belief has an almost folksong-like melody, which is transformed into something very powerful. And the final section, titled Rise Up, Embrace the Dawn, includes another sweeping climax. 

The second movement, Summer Solstice, opens with a sense of hushed agitation, a sort of Sturm und Drang dialogue between chorus and soloist. After a climax, the music becomes more languid as the youth chorus sings about the joys of the rising sun. The ending of this movement (Awareness) is full of warmth and tenderness, but Carr still gives things a strong sense of energy and dynamism. There’s a little melodic flourish about a minute before the movement ends, which really stuck out to me. Carr has more wonderful musical ideas than you might expect given the runtime!

Autumn Equinox is, predictably enough, the slow movement, opening with a long orchestral passage leading into a chilly choral reflection on death and ‘sad decay’ over an accompaniment with prominent harp and brass. I found it genuinely effective – not overdone, but unafraid to be expressive. The tenor solo here is a rather incomprehensible poem called Judgment, which sits very, very high in Furness’ register, but I have to admit I enjoy all the strange percussion accents beneath the singing. That flows into a choral section titled Dusk, which starts out rather reminiscent of an Evensong hymn. This builds into a very beautiful climax, bringing Autumn to a close. 

Carr refers to this work in the booklet notes as “big-boned”, and it is in the Winter Solstice where he really lets rip with an extended build up to the biggest climax of the piece. At nearly 16 minutes, it is the longest movement here. The opening section is titled Revelation, but it is fairly muted and contained – around 3 minutes in we get a lovely transitional passage into Joy and Renewal, in which the ‘promise’ of rebirth is made. Unfortunately, this made it very difficult for me not to think about Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony, which also ends with a long build up to a glorious choral climax along similar thematic lines. This is very tough competition to invite for oneself. 

The section beginning around 5:30 is one of Carr’s best moments: there are clanging bells, blaring brass, and a real sense of power and mystery. The following section, Benediction, builds us back up to those musical ideas (occurring around 9:30), except here with singing added. The final few minutes of the work function as a warm, extended coda: slow, solemn, and triumphant. 

This is, coincidentally, my second review in a row where I am noting that the runtime is unusually short (47 minutes) – I wonder if streaming is partly the reason for this. It doesn’t bother me, but prospective listeners may want to be aware.

I suspect some listeners may find that Awakening has too many climaxes and that these are possibly unearned. I am of a different opinion: I think this piece is great fun and viscerally affecting. The music gave me goosebumps. Carr’s Awakening is very, very earnest: the music wears its heart right on its sleeve. That will not be to everyone’s taste, but I found myself truly won over by the skill of the writing, playing, and singing on display here.

Aidan Gray

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