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Review: Heartwood Chorus, the Mount Without – ‘The finest of celebrations’
Quite simply, this was a celebration. A celebration of the human voice, of community, of diversity.
Most of all, it was a celebration for the release of the debut EP by Bristol’s own 50(ish)-strong Folk Choir, Heartwood Chorus.
Neil Johnson, Heartwood’s arranger, conductor and spokesperson, said, with mischief in his eyes, “It’s way too easy just to put a gig on, it’s much more fun if we give this thing more chances to fall apart”.
This evening was certainly ambitious; a revolving programme of entertainments, with Heartwood at the centre and their friends popping up all over the place. But there was never a chance that it would fall apart.
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Starting with three female voices from Heartwood Chorus, their version of Honeybee by North Carolina’s Mountain Man hushed the thrum and buzz of a busy room.
As the packed audience fell silent so the voices, sweet and pure, glistened in this beautiful place. Candles flickered from the altar, the last rays of sun illuminating stained glass and unaccompanied voices casting magic spells.
Before long the rest of the Chorus joined the three, King of Rome effortlessly soaring up to the infinity loop on the ceiling. When all of these voices join together, incredible things happen. There are layers upon layers; deep bass hums settle beneath skipping, higher voices, baritones reach out and cradle sopranos allowing them a solid platform to explore the furthest reaches.
It’s just so, so beautiful. There’s a moment, when they sing “a flash of wing up in the blue”, which sends a tingle to the tear ducts; it won’t be the last one this evening.
Bjork’s Cosmogony – “This one isn’t a folk song. Sorry!” – sweeps and swoops across the space, creation myths colliding, fizzing, twinkling.
Those layered voices echoing spectroscopic images, light and swirls until, finally, tonal drones wind down into the sound of a faulty tape.
There are crystalline chimes for the Lost World Blessing and rivers of gold running through Johnny Flynn’s the Sun Also Rises. The mere mention of Flynn’s name causes an audible sigh, yet Heartwood’s version of his song feels more timeless than his, more sigh-worthy.
There are times when Heartwood fit this setting so perfectly, times when their heavenly harmonising echoes a hymn. They are at their most thrilling, though, when there is a juxtaposition. Billy Bragg’s Between the Wars marries the ragged rallying cry with utter, uplifting glory. These heart-stopping voices could gather everyone around them.
The show culminated with a grand performance of Lizi Morse’s song I Am Proud, led by a cappella folk duo Bowker and Morse
The traditional Byker Hill, from the Heartwood EP, is full of intricate threads and time signatures while the Good Old Way is rousing, roof-lifting. A gorgeous version of Red Robin has the whole audience a-buzz during the interval.
As part of the encore, Heartwood are joined by Nick Hart, one of the finest interpreters of Folk Song in the country, for Pleasant and Delightful. Here, too, is a contrast. Hart’s earthy voice is as honest as the day is long, it rumbles, a comforting burr. When Heartwood join him on the chorus, their golden sun bathes his ploughed fields.
As if a whole evening of Heartwood Chorus wasn’t quite enough, the friends that were intertwined through the evening were stunning too. Heaps Morris and Swanning Folk added dancing, bells, clogs and all manner of good feelings.
Heartwood were joined by traditional folk dancers for this special celebratory show
Bristol acapella duo Bowker and Morse sung a handful of songs too. Their songs sound as old as the hills but are entirely new. The Hare is a right to roam anthem, filled with fresh air and sunlight, Morse slightly behind Bowker, singing just off of him until their paths cross as they harmonise.
A Quiet Place is another that’s flecked with nature and the outside world. Lizi Morse and Josh Bowker combine effortlessly, the two in perfect harmony. High and low, sweet and open. When they sing with the might of Heartwood, on the piece of raw feminist power, I Am Proud, folk music is at its most vital, it’s most lovely.
Fifty odd voices, remarkable arrangements, songs of power and beauty and not a microphone in sight. This was, truly, the finest of celebrations.
All images: Gavin McNamara
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