Every so often, a Russian performing group rides through town and brings out what seems to be the entire Russian émigré community, filling one of the largest halls to capacity. Its program typically offers a serious or traditional first half followed by arrangements of favorite tunes from the war years or Soviet cinema. As the tunes grow more familiar, culminating in ever-popular bonbons such as Moscow Nights or Ochi Chornaya, the audience becomes ever more enthusiastic. Friday’s performance at Davies Symphony Hall of Moscow’s Sretensky Monastery Choir, under the direction of Nikon Zhila, was such an occasion.
For devotees of the choral art — particularly Americans, who rarely hear good, large male-voice choirs comprised of fully trained voices — the concert was a treat, as well. This 40-voice male choir sounds fantastic in its genre, singing with polish and consistently perfect intonation. It offers a full-voiced, bright, and versatile but unmistakably Russian tone. The choir, even at its quietest pianissimo, easily filled the 2,743-seat Davies Hall.
If I were to offer any complaint, it would be to find fault with the too-popular programming (popularity here being defined as the audience’s ability to sing along to every tune from 1960s Soviet cinema, as the woman behind me could and did). This was probably a necessary step on the tour organizers’ part to attract the émigré crowd, but it deprived the audience of hearing this choir in its core genre: the performance of daily services at one of the most revered Russian religious institutions. Thus for me, the best performances of the evening were of the first four selections — arrangements of sacred Russian chant. The program notes requested that the audience hold its applause until after these selections; the resulting lack of wild clapping and whistling avoided some of the State-of-the-Union atmosphere that characterized the remainder of the evening.
Especially moving was Livosky’s Cherubic Hymn, which used the text from the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, rather than the more familiar Liturgy of St. John Chrystostom. The choir began with a dark and intense inner gesture and gradually unfolded its sound into an enthusiastic alleluia. Russian choirs are less given to visible emotion than American ensembles, and the stoicism the men displayed came off as markedly spiritual. Also notably different was the choir’s unison Russian Orthodox “znamennie” chant, Stichera on the Dormition of Theotokos. Unlike the case with Latin chant, the tradition of performing ancient Russian melodies focuses on rhythm and accent. Director Zhila clearly tried to bring out this vigor, both in his direction and in his choice to leave the tenors out of the three-minute chant.