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Grrr...
Well, I'm irritated. I downloaded the nifty little LiveJournal program, and the computer crashed twice while I was using it. Anyway, more about the concert.
Daniel Taylor made a joke about his voice, as I gather he often does (see http://www.cbc.ca/tvarts/video/taylorunedited.ram). He started to tell an anecdote (about how wonderful James Bowman is) in his regular speaking voice, looked startled, cleared his throat, and continued in falsetto - but only until the audience laughed.
James Bowman has a demonstrative, expressive, almost flamboyant on-stage persona. He conducts at the orchestra for a few seconds before coming in, gestures as he's singing, etc. When he and Daniel Taylor first sang duets together, I noticed a pronounced difference between them. Mr. Taylor barely moved his arms except to grip the music stand or turn the occasional page; Mr. Bowman of course, flipped pages most elegantly. Mr. Bowman would frequently turn to look at Mr. Taylor's face while singing, and Mr. Taylor would look at him for a second and then appear to be distracted. Interestingly, Daniel Taylor gradually loosened up as the concert continued; he was gesturing almost half as much as James Bowman by the end. I think he must have been nervous, being the person who orchestrated the event.
Don't take the previous paragraph to mean that Daniel Taylor didn't put on a remarkably expressive performance; both of the singers did, not to mention the orchestra! The singers were the stars, of course, hence the billing "A Countertenor Extravaganza" (tacky, I know, but necessary in today's classical music world). They both had extraordinary breath control, used to produce very carefully played out dynamic and tonal contrasts. Bowman's voice is more like a contralto, while Taylor's is more like a mezzo-soprano, but I found that they blended together very effectively.
The musical highlights for me were "O Solitude" sung by James Bowman and John Blow's "Ode on the Death of Mr. Henry Purcell" sung by both. "O Solitude" has a tremendous number of words without repetition compared to the other pieces, but he managed to make it not only flow seamlessly, but also movingly in a way I'm finding I really can't describe. Pretty well every single piece ended with a moment of silence as the audience paused to let the sound fade away, but I think it lasted longest following "O Solitude". The "Ode to...Purcell" is apparently, according to Daniel Taylor, "the countertenor piece," and featured both singers together and apart. Naturally, it was beautiful and touching. One part that especially impressed me was (as far as I recall) the first movement, where the parts frequently descended down far enough to reach the baritone range of both singers. They both had nice baritone ranges, although not nearly as good as their countertenor ranges; but what I really liked was that there was no discernible break between the two. I would notice baritone sounds, then countertenor sounds, but couldn't for the life of me tell where one ended and the other began.
The audience reception was rapturous. They were given a standing ovation, in Toronto! Only one encore appeared to have been prepared, but frankly I think all parties concerned were too tired to perform another. A crowd rushed on the merchandise table, as had happened during intermission. Considerable numbers stayed to have their CDs signed. Daniel Taylor's response upon emerging from backstage was "You've got to be kidding!" James Bowman's response was, of course, cool as you please. They were both eager to get through the line, though, so I had my CD signed without much attempt at conversation.
Oh, a little story. I attempted, woe betide me, to take a photograph at a concert. I couldn't help myself. There wouldn't be space or time to take photos later; besides, I was in the side balcony so I figured no one would notice. So I aimed--sitting down, using my flashless, quiet SLR--and Daniel Taylor glared right in my direction. I snapped quickly, and put down the camera, embarrassed. On second thought, it might have been a look of amused bestartlement rather than a horrified glare, but I felt ashamed nonetheless.
For any familiar with the Canadian ballet world: James Kudelka was there. Mum and I had to excuse ourselves to walk past him in the hall.
Daniel Taylor made a joke about his voice, as I gather he often does (see http://www.cbc.ca/tvarts/video/taylorunedited.ram). He started to tell an anecdote (about how wonderful James Bowman is) in his regular speaking voice, looked startled, cleared his throat, and continued in falsetto - but only until the audience laughed.
James Bowman has a demonstrative, expressive, almost flamboyant on-stage persona. He conducts at the orchestra for a few seconds before coming in, gestures as he's singing, etc. When he and Daniel Taylor first sang duets together, I noticed a pronounced difference between them. Mr. Taylor barely moved his arms except to grip the music stand or turn the occasional page; Mr. Bowman of course, flipped pages most elegantly. Mr. Bowman would frequently turn to look at Mr. Taylor's face while singing, and Mr. Taylor would look at him for a second and then appear to be distracted. Interestingly, Daniel Taylor gradually loosened up as the concert continued; he was gesturing almost half as much as James Bowman by the end. I think he must have been nervous, being the person who orchestrated the event.
Don't take the previous paragraph to mean that Daniel Taylor didn't put on a remarkably expressive performance; both of the singers did, not to mention the orchestra! The singers were the stars, of course, hence the billing "A Countertenor Extravaganza" (tacky, I know, but necessary in today's classical music world). They both had extraordinary breath control, used to produce very carefully played out dynamic and tonal contrasts. Bowman's voice is more like a contralto, while Taylor's is more like a mezzo-soprano, but I found that they blended together very effectively.
The musical highlights for me were "O Solitude" sung by James Bowman and John Blow's "Ode on the Death of Mr. Henry Purcell" sung by both. "O Solitude" has a tremendous number of words without repetition compared to the other pieces, but he managed to make it not only flow seamlessly, but also movingly in a way I'm finding I really can't describe. Pretty well every single piece ended with a moment of silence as the audience paused to let the sound fade away, but I think it lasted longest following "O Solitude". The "Ode to...Purcell" is apparently, according to Daniel Taylor, "the countertenor piece," and featured both singers together and apart. Naturally, it was beautiful and touching. One part that especially impressed me was (as far as I recall) the first movement, where the parts frequently descended down far enough to reach the baritone range of both singers. They both had nice baritone ranges, although not nearly as good as their countertenor ranges; but what I really liked was that there was no discernible break between the two. I would notice baritone sounds, then countertenor sounds, but couldn't for the life of me tell where one ended and the other began.
The audience reception was rapturous. They were given a standing ovation, in Toronto! Only one encore appeared to have been prepared, but frankly I think all parties concerned were too tired to perform another. A crowd rushed on the merchandise table, as had happened during intermission. Considerable numbers stayed to have their CDs signed. Daniel Taylor's response upon emerging from backstage was "You've got to be kidding!" James Bowman's response was, of course, cool as you please. They were both eager to get through the line, though, so I had my CD signed without much attempt at conversation.
Oh, a little story. I attempted, woe betide me, to take a photograph at a concert. I couldn't help myself. There wouldn't be space or time to take photos later; besides, I was in the side balcony so I figured no one would notice. So I aimed--sitting down, using my flashless, quiet SLR--and Daniel Taylor glared right in my direction. I snapped quickly, and put down the camera, embarrassed. On second thought, it might have been a look of amused bestartlement rather than a horrified glare, but I felt ashamed nonetheless.
For any familiar with the Canadian ballet world: James Kudelka was there. Mum and I had to excuse ourselves to walk past him in the hall.