Baroque / Early Music / Electronic / musique méditerranéenne

Tarta Relena : A Mediterranean Spell Across Centuries

by Z Neto Vinheiras

In a full house at Sala Rossa, this last Thursday January 22 was an evening of vocal communion – an echo of the currents beneath the centuries, the Mediterranean landscapes and an incredible permeability between genres, languages and techniques. A humungous spectacle crossing geographies, time and humanity.

Honouring both the sacred and profane, the ancient and contemporary, Marta Torella and Helena Ros braid stories with their voices and in their voices there is gravity – it’s a dance between a soprano and a contralto, balancing, sustaining each other, confronting the crowd. They embody the contrasts in which are crafted the threads of continuity, the siren tapestry with all the stories needed to be told and heard. There is a synchrony and kinship between the two on stage that is not even telepathic but that they seem to be made out of the same dust.

The duo from Barcelona arrives in Montréal after a good week in the US touring their most recent album “Ès pergunta” (Latency, 2024), conceptualising the inevitability of fate in this tension between human and nature. It’s a lyrical plasticity, a unification of time frames and an elastic range of techniques. Tara Relena’s music is so much about the voice, the languages, the stories and the mysticism, that the use of the electronics here are only an accommodation to the contemporary, an extra layer of gravity in a scene that is a weighty present.

Throughout the night, Ros and Torella also tell us the stories behind their own process of making this album, including the happy accidents that resulted in an extra track “Odniramat” which happened by mistakenly reverse the recorded track “Tamarindo” – being so obsessed with the energy of the fate, they learned the reversed lyrics and melodies and kept the track. Which makes me think, in their conceptual framework, how timeless time and fate themselves can be. A past stretched to infinity and back is no past anymore but continuity. It is part of the same matter.

Nevertheless, Ros and Torella are not just singing to us on a stage; they are inviting us in to really listen – they want us to hear what the sirens have to tell us about fate, which is not a very serene one. At the end of the night, they gift us a Georgian singing a cappella encore with Mingjia Chen and Linnea Sablosky, who are together on tour performing Meara O’Riley’s Hocket for two voices, an absolute must see performance as well!

Caprice Baroque and Chocolate at 9e: Much More Than Just a Snack!

by Alain Brunet

Matthias Maute, conductor, flutist (recorder and traverso), composer, and artistic director of the Ensemble Caprice, has devised a delightful concept bringing together the Baroque repertoire: a lively and virtuoso quintet evoking this era and… chocolate.

Discovered and adopted by the conquistadors in the Americas, the famous cacao bean was introduced to Spain before crossing the Pyrenees and winning over France. The arrival of chocolate in Europe coincided with the Baroque period, providing an excellent opportunity to establish the link through a French Baroque program.

A highly entertaining program with an even greater focus on chocolate!

Highly popular since its revival, Le 9e was almost full on the late afternoon of January 20, marking a resounding success in terms of attendance and the concept put forward by the Caprice, ArtChoral, Opéra M3F, and HausMusique ensembles.

Although the program featured great French composers such as Marin Marais, Jean-Philippe Rameau, Marc-Antoine Charpentier, and François Couperin from the outset, one had to be truly passionate about this ancient repertoire to be familiar with the works. As suggested by Matthias Maute, it was best to let oneself be carried away by the proposed journey and enjoy the pleasure generated by these performances.

The first pair of pieces highlighted the ensemble as a whole: Mathias Maute and Sophie Larivière on flutes (recorder and traverso), Jean-Christophe Lizotte on baroque cello, David Jacques on baroque guitar, and Zya Tabassian on baroque and oriental percussion—remember that the link between the West and the East was much more evident in the Baroque era.

So we will first be treated to a Spanish Sarabande by Rémi Médard, followed by Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s fearless Chaconne, to set the mood for this distant era.

Lanchas par bailar, a work by an unknown composer, and Jean-Philippe Rameau’s Airs et danses pour le théâtre, the second pair of pieces on the chocolate menu, demanded all the technical skills of the flutists, whose two-part polyphony gave us the opportunity to contemplate these instruments, which are difficult to master and too little known to music lovers.

The (small) ensemble Caprice then followed with a third pair of works: Les délices de la solitude (The Delights of Solitude) by Joseph Bodin de Boismortier and Vertigo (a title chosen two and a half centuries before Alfred Hitchcock) by Joseph-Nicolas-Pancrace Royer. The first was percussive and the second was captivating for the flutists’ playing, as well as for their conversation with the baroque cello, which responded beautifully, not to mention the strong bond established with the other members of the ensemble.

Chocolate triumphed before the performance of Marin Marais’ Les Folies d’Espagne and Le tic-toc-Chocolat. We all greedily devoured the chocolate egg we were given at the entrance, while the flutes and light percussion played their hearts out.

Ziya Tabassian’s drums and percussion launched the final assault: pretty Parisian Contredanses, Rigaudon, calm Rondeau, very rhythmic Poivre, jagged Prince Torge, reassuring Manches vertes, which one imagines to be an ancient version of the well-known Greensleeves, all concluded with a powerful exchange between flutes and percussion, entitled Les sept sauts.

Much more than just a tasty snack!

Kim Richardson & ONJ: Not Cutting Any Corners in Honoring Ellington

by Harry Skinner

The most surprising thing Kim Richardson said last Thursday (January 15) as she shared the stage with the Orchestre National de Jazz de Montreal was also the very first thing she said. She came on after two concise renditions of Duke Ellington’s ‘What Am I Here For’ and ‘Cotton Tail’ and said straight away “Je suis absolutment terrifiée//I am absolutely terrified”. As it was, she had been dealing with issues with her vocal chords in the leadup to the concert – her first of the year, such that her ability to perform at all may have been in doubt. It was a refreshing moment of vulnerability from Richardson that would ultimately prove to be unnecessary; one wouldn’t have guessed at any point throughout the show that they were listening to a singer who was struggling with her voice.

As the concert progressed it became clear that a point had been made to highlight as much varied Ellington repertoire as possible, an endeavor that was undeniably successful. Throughout sixteen selections of this sold out concert presented at the PdA Cinquième Salle, Richardson and the orchestra managed to cover the classics like ‘Caravan’ and ‘Take the A Train’ while still making time to introduce the audience to more obscure and less conventional parts of the Ellington canon. The first song that Kim Richardson sang, for example, was a selection from the 1941 musical revue Jump For Joy Entitled ‘Bli Blip’. The song features a surprisingly sparse and angular shout chorus, not unlike the sort of sound Thad Jones would achieve decades later.

A highlight of the show was the way that Kim Richardson’s personality shone through in her singing. This was never more clear than in the Billy Strayhorn ballad ‘Something to Live For’, or in ‘Imagine My Frustration’, an arrangement by pianist Jimmy Jones. This arrangement in particular had a sound that leaned more towards classic R&B, with repetitive riffs in the horn section over a 12/8 time feel – a perfect selection for a singer with the soul and R&B background Kim has. ‘Imagine My Frustration’ was probably the point in the show where we saw her the most in her element.

For the most part, selections in the concert were kept short and succinct to allow for a greater range of repertoire. As such, there were few extended solo sections. A notable exception to this was in Perdido, which featured an absolute behemoth of a trumpet solo from David Carbonneau. It would be hard to disagree with director Marianne Trudel when she suggested that the piece could have been written for him instead of the great Clark Terry.

Last night, the ONJ set out to highlight two great musicians – Kim Richardson and Duke Ellington – in very different ways. One was onstage, while the other composed the bulk of the program. The audience, however, was left with a strong understanding of both musicians and their unique voices, with neither upstaging the other.

Electronic

Igloofest 2026 | On Two Stages, A Real Winter Evening

by Léa Dieghi

It was cold on the opening night of Igloofest 2026. With a wind chill of -15°C, the festival site was surrounded by a cloud of smoke formed by the breath of the audience, the food trucks serving poutine, the various heated areas set up to warm up, and the famous marshmallow campfires scattered here and there.

The line of people waiting to enter the general assembly with their tickets was particularly long on this first evening. Although the doors opened about twenty minutes late, the audience was extremely impatient, shivering in the cold and stamping their feet with excitement at the thought of finally being able to hit the dance floor and enjoy the other activities at the festival. As soon as they entered, people literally ran to get to the front of the main stage. Thursday evening’s lineup was certainly one of the most eagerly awaited of the week, with tickets sold out both on site and online.

Publicité panam

SCÈNE VIDEOTRON

At the Vidéotron small stage checkpoints, we had Liv K and Cult Member, two established figures on the Montreal electronic scene.

Very active on Montreal’s fringe scene, Liv K is a DJ and programmer for Parquette, a transitory cultural space with a queer vibe that is heavily involved in the rave scene. Although she is more frequently seen at events organized by collectives such as Flush, Bijou, and Discono, this was the DJ’s first time at Igloofest. Her eclectic and energetic set ranged from classic four-on-the-floor techno to remixes of contemporary hip-hop music, with a few Doechii tracks thrown in here and there.

As for the popular artist Cult Member, who has carved out an international reputation in the electronic music scene, he delivered a captivating set combining techno and Rally House, with influences from club music and French House staples such as Thomas Bangalter.

These two sets, with their slightly different yet complementary energy, were musically one of my favorite experiences of the evening… Although most of the audience spent most of their time in front of the main stage… Had we forgotten that the Videotron stage existed? Or did we not see it, hidden away at the back? Or was it the effect of Disco Lines, the star producer whose track No Broke Boys exploded on social media this summer, who was playing on the main stage?

SCÈNE SAPPORO

It took a while for the front of the stage to fill up, probably due to the long line at the entrance, but also perhaps because of the audience’s excitement to explore the venue. But after only an hour and a half of opening, Gudfella, whose real name is Kyle Domingo, was already playing in front of a packed crowd. As the opening DJ on the Sapporo stage, he delivered a performance worthy of his reputation: a danceable, groovy set mixing house, techno, pop, and disco. The American artist, covered in several layers of clothing, danced behind his turntables, unzipping his coat a little, proof of the energy he put into his set.

And as the audience pushed further and further toward the front of the stage, the crowd soon turned into a compact mass. I have rarely seen such a tightly packed, crazy crowd. People were pushing against each other, each unknown body pressed up against other unknown bodies. And with the arrival of Disco Lines, the headliner of the lineup, the crowd’s energy seemed to reach its peak. The mix of house music, pop, and commercial music remixes met the expectations of the crowd, who had come here in large numbers partly to see him.

Honestly, it was madness on the ground. People were climbing on each other’s shoulders, some were pushing hard, shoving others aside to get to the front, beers were flying through the air, wetting hair and hats.

For a moment, I rejoiced at no longer being agoraphobic: in such a confined space, I would most certainly have had an attack.

When the long-awaited song “No Broke Boys” by Disco Lines and Tinashe finally started playing, the audience, mainly made up of Generation Z, seemed to literally explode. They danced, shouted, sang, and pushed each other. Civility was replaced by fury.

While this set wasn’t necessarily what I tend to like or look for, I have to admit that the energy was there, and despite the dense crowd, I was still able to squeeze in a few dance moves and leave with lots of laughter and wonderful memories.

Africa / afro-soul

Floric Kim, Musical Antidote to a Freezing Montreal Evening

by Sandra Gasana

Despite the freezing cold on this January Thursday, it didn’t discourage several people from attending Floric Kim’s long-awaited concert. You’ve probably heard of him from his interview on MUZ, but seeing him on stage for a full show was a first for me.

Surrounded by renowned musicians from Montreal’s artistic scene and Damaris, a promising backup singer and guitarist, Floric Kim takes the stage like a star. His clothing makes as much of an impression as his powerful voice. Dressed in jeans from head to toe, stylish bell-bottoms, and a denim vest with rings, this young artist and designer was able to do both that evening: wear his own clothing brand and deliver a show worthy of the name.

From the very first song, he sets the room alight, while in Freedom, he brings out his blues and soul side. He is fluent in French, English, and Kikongo, sometimes mixing several languages in the same song.

He reveals not only his talents as a singer, but also as a dancer on some of the more upbeat tracks, and as a storyteller. On the track Suzana, which is a tribute to his sister and in which he denounces sexual abuse, he switches from singing the chorus to storytelling, immersing us in both worlds. Watson Joseph’s bass, Dav’s guitar playing, Steven Mapou’s piano, and Raphaël Ojo’s drums allowed him to move from one to the other quite naturally.

Hendry Massamba couldn’t not take part in this concert. Indeed, you rarely see one without the other. So he played percussion in the second half of the concert, before swapping places with Raphaël for the last song of the evening.

Speaking of the second part, Floric’s outfit was even more spectacular than the first. This time, he appeared on stage wearing an outfit to which he had attached several Barbie dolls. And this is entirely representative of the character: using everyday objects and integrating them into fabrics to turn them into works of art.

That said, one person almost stole the show that evening: a young dancer of Haitian origin named Dashny, who had mastered African dance moves to perfection. “Are you sure you’re Haitian? I was told that Haitians were more like lovers with their kompa,” Floric said to the young man. A few minutes later, he invited Dashny back on stage, this time to improvise to his hit Mama Pray For Me, and he blew us away.

That’s kind of how Floric is too. He calls himself the Nkundilisateur and seems to enjoy promoting other artists, whether it’s inviting Veeby or LYDOL to improvise some singing or dancing, or calling on dancers from the Nyata Nyata school to come and give a few demonstrations on the dance floor. This adds several minutes to his tracks without ever getting boring.

Floric took several dips into the crowd during his show, sometimes joined by audience members who wanted to let loose that night. This was particularly the case during his hit song Million, another highlight of the evening.

In the end, the -17 degree weather may have discouraged many people from coming to see this artist at the height of his career, but those who did attend clearly enjoyed themselves.

danse / Minimalist / musique contemporaine

Dance and music symbiosis : breathtaking ”Sol Invictus” in Montreal

by Frédéric Cardin

At PanM360, we love music (obviously). Music for its own sake, of course, but also music in its relationship with other arts. We don’t often take the time to revisit dance or theatre performances with an important music presence, simply due to scheduling and availability reasons. But if the opportunity arises, we are more than happy to do so.

Last night, I attended Sol Invictus by the Franco-Algerian choreographer Hervé Koubi. In this masterful creation (which means ‘’Sun undefeated’’), which Koubi describes as an ode to life, gestures and movements from contemporary urban culture, such as Breakdance, Hip Hop, and Brazilian capoeira, are combined with dazzling virtuosity. Contemporary dance is also grafted onto it, in an ultra-modern, but also baroque and choral, ballet propelled a thousand miles from the dark, gloomy and dirty clichés associated with street culture.

Koubi is right when he talks about an ode to life. He also mentions the joy of children dancing. There is indeed a youthful vital force in this explosion of solar and unifying energy.

Let’s first talk about the dancers, of fabulous beauty in their prominent bodies and almost aerial malleability. Bodies that almost never stop spinning, that fall to the ground like soft fabric, without a bump or heaviness, that transform without apparent transition into gymnasts, circus artists, a spinning top and a modern performer with studied and learnt gestures. Koubi went to find the best, he says. No doubt about it.

All of this could have been a bluff to impress the well-to-do bourgeois who are superficially tuned into street culture. If it’s much more than that (and it is), it’s certainly thanks to the music that soundtracks the movements.

Over an uninterrupted nest of about 75-80 minutes, Koubi’s choreography breathes and evolves through several states of mind and as many allegories that ultimately form a complete narrative construction. A construction which sometimes leaves room for interpretation because the discourse is generally more symbolic than explicit, inviting the more thoughtful to engage in hermeneutics and the rest of us to primarily enjoy the audio-visual aesthetics of the moment.

Be that as it may, varied emotional time spaces follow one another but, above all, balance each other throughout the show. Beethoven (Seventh Symphony) brings a dramatic force for a few minutes, a kind of gravity that contrasts with other hyper-festive moments, supported by powerful music made of tribal rhythms, rumbling brass, and very effective staccato strings. Elsewhere, it is the mediaeval Hildegard of Bingen and her angelic vocal hymns that grant the group of about fifteen dancers a kind of spiritual elevation that seems to make them float above the asphalt. Some excerpts from the music of the film Midsommar by Bobby Krtic flesh out and link the visual with an intangible sensory experience. And then, in between all of that, a relatively soaring and ambient electronic backdrop, abstract (signed by Mikael Karlsson (collaborator of Lykke Li, Alicia Keys) and Maxime Dobson), like a sound bed from which the mentioned pieces and some others regularly emerge, like spontaneous manifestations of enlightened human communion.

At the beginning and end of the show, Steve Reich (propulsive Music for 18 Musicians, almost a stereotype in this kind of proposal) serves as an expressive tool to paint a picture of virtuosity that gives the impression of being orchestrated with perfect precision. And yet, when we know that Koubi does not “count,” and prefers, as in jazz or other improvised music, to identify precise (musical) cues between which the artists on stage are given a certain freedom, we can only be amazed by the overall cohesion of these exceptional bodies, capable of astonishing individuality, but which perfectly submit to a collective and holistic vision.

Beyond the fluttering physical movements, which are constantly impressive, the staging occasionally uses, with a pleasant sense of imagery, a few artifices such as a large golden sheet, illuminated by appropriate lighting (the Sun, of course), which transforms into a dazzling whirlwind when placed on one of the dancers (one-legged!) in the middle of a human top spin. In another beautiful allegory, a dancer dresses himself with said golden ‘’fleece’’ to appear as a sort of luminous Apollo god. Elsewhere, sparklers (I think?) timidly illuminate a few dancers in total darkness, a rare absence of the sun god in favour of the night. It’s simple, but beautiful.

Sol Invictus is magnificent, aesthetically, and emotionally memorable. We return without hesitation, both to relive moments of great artistic strength, but also to delve even deeper into the understanding of this spectacle rich in symbols and significance.

Techno

Dômesicle / SAT | First Techno Night Under the Dome, Account of A First Immersion

by Ariel Rutherford

11:36 a.m., SAT, I enter on the guest list with my +1. I feel pretty swell.

This Saturday, January 10, marks the kickoff of the tenth edition of Dômesicle, a series of winter DJ/VJ parties in the heart of the SAT’s immersive dome. My first time. Exciting. We go down one floor, coat check, the beats of the music echoing through the building. The dance floor awaits us three floors up and lets us know it.

Just a moment to put in our earplugs—hearing is precious, and off we go!

I was promised a pure techno evening, hypnotic rhythms intertwined with organic sounds, intensity. All coupled with projections that were as minimalist and hypnotic as they were enveloping and architectural.

We enter the dome under a cathedral-like kaleidoscope, Mike Larry has just started his set. The crowd is fairly calm. Passive, according to my friend: “North Americans don’t know how to party.” He drags me to the front of the turntables. There, people are dancing, shaking, getting carried away by the music. The DJ is good, repeatedly eliciting cheers from the crowd as he changes tracks.

I lean against the barriers, the DJ within sight. I soak up the atmosphere. Sustained, repetitive yet varied rhythms, from which unexpected sound samples emerge. We let ourselves be carried away. The strobe lights blind me, but I like the images on the dome. I have a soft spot for the most minimalist elements: the pulsating grid that hangs over the crowd like a neon red net, the unexpected starry sky formed by letters of the alphabet floating in space, the box filled with gray spheres that continually evaporate behind the DJ.

The crowd remains fairly placid, happy to be there, but few are dancing. Several are chatting.

My friend dances nonstop. Electro music is his thing. Me, not so much.

The volume, the flashes of light, it’s a lot for me, a little too much. I get overstimulated easily, which is a bad combination. I take breaks, then go back to dancing. Dance, break, dance. It’s paradoxical, but I think I would enjoy a more intense, noisier, more disjointed production more. Intensity can be an antidote to overstimulation, but I feel like I’m stuck in between.

Back from the break, one o’clock in the morning, the crowd has been getting more lively for a while now. Set change, Measure Divide takes the stage. The dome seems to be moving at full speed through a tunnel of light oscillating between blue and orange. A guy is wildly showing off his best moves at the entrance to the satosphere. The selection seems less varied to me than with Mike Larry, more intense perhaps.

When it’s time to go home half an hour later, my friend is having a good time but is falling asleep. My head hurts. I’ve been here for two hours and counting. I don’t think I’m the target audience. I regret missing XIA’s set. Despite this, I would be willing to try the experience again, as the setting is certainly impressive. Worth checking out with other genres of music.

Classical

Fred, Nagano and the OSM: An Annual Pilgrimage in the Footsteps of Previous Ones

by Frédéric Cardin

The seventh encounter between storyteller Fred Pellerin, Kent Nagano, and the OSM (Montreal Symphony Orchestra) remained true to the principles of previous performances: a warm atmosphere (that enormous animated Christmas ornament was still there—but where and how do they store it the rest of the year??), appropriately chosen classical music performed by a suitably velvety OSM, and the discreet yet benevolent presence of Kent Nagano, who, despite his departure several years ago, always returns with pleasure and dedication to participate in this now well-established tradition. And, above all, there was the intelligent storytelling, tinged with humor and a touch of poetry, of Fred Pellerin, master storyteller and representative of his native village, transformed by his pen and oratorical genius into a place of fantastical legends.

The 2025 version of the pilgrimage adventures of Saint-Élie-de-Caxton plunged us into the origins of this village where myth intertwines with reality. It was on April 12, 1865, that the village was founded. But what happened on the night of the 11th to the 12th for “nothing” to become “something,” and what’s more, a community, Fred wonders. It’s while “doing his research” that he discovers the story of a rigid, obsessive-compulsive priest and a wild widow known as the Red Roulette. This woman, quite the schemer, takes advantage of the “courtesy visits” from the village gentlemen by demanding a cow in exchange for her silence. The lady then owns quite a herd, 100 to be precise.

From these numerous romantic encounters (including with the priest), a little girl will be born who will win everyone’s hearts, in an allegory clearly linked, but in reverse mirror image, to the birth of Jesus. Here, there is no immaculate conception. On the contrary, the little angel bears (not so) curiously the features of all the villagers, lol.

Ultimately, it was a great sense of community that allowed the village of Saint-Élie-de-Caxton to exist, specifically on April 12, 1865. I won’t spoil why or how things unfolded at that precise moment. In any case, you’ll be going to the concert on the 18th, 19th, or 20th, and/or watching it on Radio-Canada television later during the holiday season.

That said, it’s noticeable that the use of musical pieces is sometimes primarily cosmetic, even obligatory. One wonders why this choice rather than another, except perhaps to fill the program with hit tunes from the traditional classical repertoire. Wagner’s “Entry of the Gods into Valhalla” as an opening, following the announcement of the pioneers’ disappearance (who went to settle where the village would be founded), felt like too much, let’s say. Berlioz’s “March to the Scaffold” (from the Symphonie fantastique) didn’t quite fit with the preceding theme, in my opinion. Conversely, “Earthquake” by Montreal-based composer Yuliya Zakharava, originally from Belarus, a commission from the OSM, fulfilled its mandate admirably. The young composer demonstrated excellent orchestrational skills, in a highly accessible, expressive, cinematic narrative style. She also created the beautiful arrangement of Jacques Michel’s song “Amène-toi chez nous,” sung by Fred Pellerin at the end of the concert.

And as for Fred’s own hosting, some repetition will have been noticed by regulars, namely recycled jokes from previous shows (Polichignon) or structural elements of the narrative. Well, can we really blame him? Most great artists have recycled themselves, some more often than others (Bach, to name just one). So, let’s not be too quick to judge. Moreover, if I’m to believe the comments and the faces of the audience leaving the Maison symphonique, the joy of the OSM/Fred Pellerin collaboration was once again evident. People love this tradition, even when the turkey isn’t quite as juicy as last time.

INFORMATION, TICKETS AND SHOW BROADCAST SCHEDULE

Le traditionnel conte des Fêtes de Fred Pellerin Photo: Antoine Saito

classique / Pop

Three Women Came Tonight.

by Alain Brunet

The 9th, the superb Art Deco hall of the Eaton Centre, which enjoyed its heyday in the previous century, is finally being put to good use again. The Mother Christmas program presented on Tuesday, December 16, by mezzo-soprano Kristin Hoff, soprano Jacqueline Woodley, and harpist Juliette Duguay was an opportunity for opera and chamber music lovers to enjoy a lovely selection of Christmas carols with their families.

Minuits Chrétiens was the gateway to this trio performance. From then on, we observed the two-voice polyphony of the mezzo and soprano.

The late Gilbert Patenaude, his son Julien Patenaude, and Juliette Duguay, all connected to the Patenaude family as is Jacqueline Woodley, designed the arrangements for this delightful program, which is just classical enough to stand out from many similar works, and just pop enough to appeal to those unfamiliar with opera.

After Minuit, chrétiens, take a little trip through the Great American Songbook with the bilingual version of White Christmas composed by Irving Berlin. In keeping with this Montreal penchant for bilingualism, Silent Night, a tune created in 1818 and composed in Germany by Franz Xaver Gruber, blends into Night of Silence, a tune composed in 1981 by Daniel Kantor to fit into the first song that everyone in the Western world knows so well.

As M3F is a collective dedicated to opera and classical singing that promotes female (and non-binary) composers and librettists in its production choices, this Christmas recital was somewhat of an exception to its mission, although two female composers were identified in well-known works: Augusta Holmès for Trois anges sont venus ce soir (Three Angels Came Tonight, 1884) and Gloria Shayne Baker for Do you hear what I hear? (1962).

Returning to classical music, we were treated to an excerpt from Handel’s unmissable Messiah (He shall feed his flock / Come unto Him), followed by Ramon Gomis’ Spanish-language A la Nanita, Interlude, Benjamin Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols, and Manuel de Falla’s Nana. During the performance of Benjamin Britten’s instrumental piece, played exclusively on the harp, the children in the audience were invited to come closer to the artists and experience the music even more deeply.

Except for Mariae Wiegenlied by Max Reger, the rest of the program was clearly more pop-operetta, with lyrical versions of Greensleeves (traditional), Marie-Noël by Robert Charlebois, Happy Christmas by John Lennon, Petit Papa Noël by Henri Martinet, and Noël, c’est l’amour by Norbert Glanzberg. For this last part, the singers’ children joined them to sing the songs from the last part of the program, arranged by the late Gilbert and Julien Patenaude. The mothers and their offspring were joined by the fathers (including Julien Patenaude, Jacqueline’s husband) for a heartfelt finale, the famous Gloria des Anges dans nos campagnes, which was also sung in unison by the audience.

Jacqueline Woodley and Kristin Hoff shared the main melodies of these songs, as well as a second melodic line that produced a successful counterpoint in most of the cases observed on Tuesday. It should be noted that the soprano had a more prominent role in the main melodies, but the harpist’s understated accompaniment was entirely appropriate in this eminently festive context.

Baroque

A Baroque Christmas with Arion Under the Direction of Mathieu Lussier

by Jeremy Fortin

On Sunday afternoon, Salle Bourgie hosted the Baroque Christmas in Montreal concert presented by the Arion Baroque Orchestra. Artistic director Mathieu Lussier made a bold choice with this concert, which aimed to immerse the audience in Montreal life in 1780 by featuring mostly composers unknown to the public.

The concert began with a motet entitled Cantate Domino, performed by soprano Janelle Lucyk accompanied by the serpent, a period wind instrument traditionally used as a bass. The piece was performed with a gentle, introspective touch, immediately immersing the audience in the winter atmosphere of the holiday season.

We then had the pleasure of hearing the first symphony in a cycle of six symphonies by Michel Corrette on the theme of the holidays, as well as a hymn by Capel Bond entitled Blessed Be the Lord God of Israel “for Christmas Day.”

However, it was the following seven hymns that caught my attention. These short cantatas were composed here by an Ursuline nun in the early 19th century with the aim of replacing the tavern songs that were too often sung at that time. While, in theory, these hymns perfectly illustrate the Montreal music scene at the turn of the 19th century, they were lost in the concert due to their simplicity and harmonization, which Mathieu Lussier himself describes as “sometimes clumsy.”
After a series of hymns by various composers from France and the United Kingdom, as well as Michel Corrette’s Fourth Symphony and excerpts from Charles Dibdin’s A Christmas Tale (one of the only non-religious pieces in the concert), the concert ended with an arrangement of excerpts from Handel’s Messiah. The aim of this exercise was to illustrate how, with limited resources and personnel, such grandiose pieces as this could be performed at the time without a choir or even a soloist. The first two excerpts, Thou Art Gone Up on High and The Trumpet Shall Sound, were performed purely instrumentally, allowing Mathieu Lussier to showcase the virtuosity of the bassoon in the solo part. The soprano joined the rest of the orchestra to close the concert with the aria If God Be for Us.

A Cappella / Modern Classical / Renaissance music

An Evening of English Music for The Virgin Mary… and Christmas!

by Chloé Rouffignac

On Saturday, December 13, Montreal welcomed the renowned Tallis Scholars to St. Peter & St. Andrews Church for their Mother and Child program. For nearly two hours, the vocal ensemble transported us into the world of Renaissance sacred music, interspersed with modern compositions.

Under the direction of Peter Phillips, conductor and founder of the ensemble, we first encounter the famous Thomas Tallis with Missa puer natus and William Byrd’s Votive Mass of the Virgin. But there are also more recent composers such as Benjamin Britten, and even living composers such as Matthew Martin with his commissioned work Salve Regina. This is a complex piece that highlights the purity of the alto voice in perfectly intelligible Latin. Although he uses the traditional model of plainchant, Martin composes a work sprinkled with dissonances and unresolved chords, thus highlighting the ensemble’s mastery of the text. It is a work that demonstrates the talent of the singers in their ability to make their voices resonate in a unique way and include them in a whole, particularly among the basses.

As the holidays approach, The Tallis Scholars offer us a magical moment, suspended by the sacredness of the venue and the singing, and the precision of a meticulous performance. The singers blend together in a single, subtle flow, without grand gestures or movements, reflecting each performer’s ease in their role. After a unanimous ovation from the audience, the ensemble treats us to an encore by composer Jean Mouton, which touches on a lower register and leaves us hanging for the rest of this more than successful winter evening.

PROGRAM

Thomas Tallis (c.1505-1585) : Missa Puer natus est nobis – Gloria

William Byrd (c.1540-1623) : Messe votive de la Vierge
• Ave maris stella
• Rorate caeli
• Tollite portas
• Ave Maria
• Ecce virgo concipiet

Matthew Martin (b.1976) : Salve Regina*

Thomas Tallis : Missa Puer natus est nobis – Sanctus et Agnus Dei

Benjamin Britten (1913-1976) : A Hymn to the Virgin

John Taverner (1490-1545) : Mater Christi

John Nesbett (? – c.1488) : Magnificat

DISTRIBUTION

Peter Phillips – conductor
Amy Haworth, soprano
Daisy Walford, soprano
Sumei Bao-Smith, soprano
Elisabeth Paul, alto
Anna Semple, alto
Simon Ponsford, alto
Steven Harrold, tenor
Tom Castle, tenor
Tim Scott Whiteley, bass
Ben Davies, bass

classique / pop instrumentale

Velvet Snow and Flaming Snowflakes: Tribute to André Gagnon by The OM

by Frédéric Cardin

The Orchestre métropolitain’s tribute to André Gagnon’s album Neiges proves to be a successful endeavor, despite a few shortcomings. There were indeed a few pitfalls along the way, but although not all of them were overcome, the performance as a whole produced some moving moments.

In this type of project, we always start by asking ourselves what we are going to add and what we are going to leave out. Are we going to give a literal reading, albeit enhanced by the symphonic scale, or are we going to explore the unsuspected possibilities of the original scores in order to enhance their impact? Arranger François Vallières leaned toward the former option, while embracing the integral classicism of the orchestration, i.e., he eliminated the original electric instruments from Gagnon’s scores: the electric guitar and bass.

It was in the most iconic track influenced by disco, Wow, that the shortcoming I mentioned was most noticeable. The double basses failed to project the same sonic conviction as the electric bass on the album, in the famous riff played at the time by Jean-Guy Chapados. Perhaps a trick could be found to make it stand out more in an acoustic context. That said, we must still tip our hats to the OM double bassists for their technically impressive rendition of this very bouncy line.

In the same piece, there is another omission: the funky wah-wah guitar effects, which have not been translated. However, I would have imagined muted trumpets reproducing the effect in question correctly.

At this point, you probably think I didn’t enjoy the experience. That’s not the case. Beyond these somewhat nitpicky quibbles, I admit that the vast majority of the orchestrations allowed us to enjoy André Gagnon’s melodic richness, with added harmonic depth and even, occasionally, counterpoint. The Petit concerto for Carignan and orchestra, beautifully performed by the OM’s first violin for the “classical” portion, and traditional violinist David Boulanger for the “folk” section, had the effect of an impressive gust of wind, even if I would have liked an orchestra with more amplitude, adding depth of sound behind Boulanger’s whirlwind of notes.

L’Ouverture-éclair and Dédéthoven, for their part, took full advantage of the symphonic setting, even if the velvety orchestral sound tended to diminish the crystalline clarity of certain voices, which are very noticeable on the album. The excellent Julie Lamontagne, usually a jazz pianist, took charge of performing the first two pieces of the program on piano, thus finding herself responsible for setting the tone for the concert. I can’t give her a perfect score due to a few slight technical hiccups in Dédéthoven, but her excellent narrative sense and the breath she gave to her interpretations were greatly appreciated. She got the show off to an effective start. The other pianist, Rousso, mainly took care of the romantic portions, with the exception of his skillful reading of Ta Samba.

It was in the lyrical passages that Vallières’ orchestrations resonated most powerfully and Gagnon’s music seemed most moving, right up to the grandiose, even epic finale of the title piece Neiges, with its baroque arpeggios accompanied by the OM choir. A powerful and convincing conclusion to a tribute filled with beautiful emotions, but in need of refinement here and there in order to fully reach its expressive potential.

Neiges made up the first half of the concert. The second half featured a diverse collection of musical Christmas carols and festive tunes. Through warm renditions of classics such as Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas and C’est l’hiver, and excerpts from two very accessible contemporary choral pieces (Magnificat by Taylor Scott Davis and Gloria by John Rutter), two little gems by Antoine Gratton were performed with all the fireworks they demanded and left a lasting impression on me.

The Concerto trad for David Boulanger is a flamboyant and all too brief exercise for a talented trad violinist, accompanied by an orchestra that asserts itself without overwhelming the soloist. Gratton knows how to use all kinds of tricks to make his scores interesting and avoid banality while remaining familiar. This is what he has brilliantly achieved in the other gem I mentioned, an arrangement of famous themes from children’s films popular during the holiday season, a sort of “Ciné-Cadeau Symphony” that ingeniously brings together snippets of well-known melodies from animated films such as Astérix and Lucky Luke, ending with a choral anthem based on the song L’amour a pris son temps, from La guerre des tuques.

I have often noted the quality of Gratton’s orchestrations. This fantasy on film themes, and especially the Concerto trad, convince me once again that the time has more than come to offer this symphonic artist the chance to present much more substantial material, such as a concerto of considerable length, or a complete and powerful symphonic work.

The concert ended on a sweet note with a rendition of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, bringing almost everyone on stage together with the choir. There was no encore, but the audience seemed very satisfied. You have two more opportunities to experience it, on Sunday morning and afternoon.

INFO AND TICKETS (what’s left)

Other articles to check out:

Léa Moisan-Perrier : dans les souliers et avec la baguette d’André Gagnon
Dans les coulisses de Neiges d’André Gagnon, il y a 50 ans, avec le percussionniste Robert Leroux