by Rita E. Landrum

“Out of This World,” the title of Chanticleer’s May 3 program, also serves as a succinct review of their performance here. This world famous all-male choral ensemble closed Tryon Concert Association’s 2010-2011 season with stunning focus on all things “heavenly.” Man’s efforts to describe and applaud things both known and unknown “composed” our auditory visit to Heaven and the heavens.

Chanticleer was founded in 1978 by tenor Louis Botto for the express purpose of ending the dearth of traditional performances of medieval and Renaissance music. Although the intimate theater of Tryon Fine Arts Center can’t compare to a large basilica, my imagination took me to such a place. Renaissance composers were inspired by these huge stone spaces with structure and layouts conducive to antiphony and audible overtones.

The program opened with a liturgical piece by Palestrina which set the stage for groupings of 16th century pieces. With three singers per part (soprano and alto sung by countertenors), even subdivided parts were easily covered. Execution was clear, intonation was almost always superb, and authenticity of style was maintained. A plainsong praising “Queen of the Heavens” – the program’s lone medieval piece – gave us the unusual pleasure of hearing these twelve carefully chosen voices singing in penetrating octaves. Pieces by Francisco Guerrero, Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Monteverdi were splendid. Although remaining in that century for the rest of the evening would have been fine with me, I could tell by a certain restlessness in the “pews” that it was time to move on.

“Fuggi, fuggi dolor” (“Flee, flee sorrow”) and “Stelle, vostra merce l’eccelse sfere” (“Stars, thanks to you the lofty spheres”), by William Hawley (b.1950) and Mason Bates (b.1977) respectively, were commissioned by Chanticleer. Both pieces take maximum advantage of the group’s capabilities while leaving plenty of room for interpretive flexibility. This abrupt 400-year leap from simpler voice-leading and accessible harmonies was dramatic and engaging.

A step backwards made strangely perfect placement for Benjamin Britten’s choral setting of W.H. Auden’s poem “Hymn to St. Cecilia” (1942). This piece is a tour de force continuing the long British tradition of honoring the patron saint of music. Britten’s gift for setting English text to music and Chanticleer’s gift for precision and color made for a refreshing take on this frequently performed work. An anonymous quote describes this piece as “crazy hard.” And so it is.

Lush romantic works by Schumann and Mahler closed the first half. Through my years of casual analysis, I’ve noted that conductorless ensembles larger than octets sometimes loll around in their gorgeous sounds at the expense of forward motion. While not as bothersome in the generally steady contrapuntal works, I found it nearly deadly in a few sections of these two pieces. It’s usually best to get out of the tub before the water cools. More hot water will never extend or recreate the feeling of that first perfect plunge.

Titles from the second half tell you for sure we journeyed “out of this world”: “Island in Space,” “Observer in the Magellanic Cloud,” “Past Life Melodies,” “Lost in the Stars,” “Cells Planets,” “Change the World” and, of course, Harold Arlen’s “Out of this World.” To try to describe each of these would be a fool’s errand. Known around the world as “an orchestra of voices,” Chanticleer makes sounds that are what they are. We experienced distant future meeting distant past as two worlds briefly passed each other in celestial alignment. We heard open-throated chant singing which created a thrumming of high harmonics that swam around inside our heads. We floated in space and looked at our distant Earth. We learned that our cells and the planets are the “same thing.” And then some…

A gospel encore took us “High Up in Jerusalem,” bringing our tiny glimpse into endless universes full circle. Quite a night, folks.