They look like used-car salesmen, they sound sublime, and after 40 years of extraordinary boundary-pushing music, the Hilliard Ensemble are putting away their music stands. David James look back at two of their most memorable collaborations
St Gerold is a monastery tucked away high in the Austrian alps just over the border from Switzerland. There's been a church on this spot for over 1,000 years. It is now 21 years since the four members of the Hilliard Ensemble found ourselves there on a musical blind date with saxophonist Jan Garbarek - an artistic experiment that was the brainchild of our producer, Manfred Eicher at ECM Records. Apprehensive, we waited nervously for a while wondering how to proceed, until we decided to just do what we do: sing. So we began a long, slow homophonic funeral motet by Spanish composer, Cristobel Morales, expecting Jan would listen and then respond in some way. As we were nearing the end, I felt a deep shuddering vibration, as if at sea on a ferry, a sensation that swiftly became an explosion of interweaving ethereal sounds. Jan had grasped his saxophone and introduced a fifth voice. It was the most magical musical moment in my entire 40-year career with the Hilliard Ensemble.
That day was the beginning of a profound and lasting relationship. When we finished the piece, no one in the chapel moved or made a sound. Then Eicher leapt from his seat and said: "We have to record it!" We reconvened two months later to record Officium, the album that sold over a million copies and has for 20 years been opening doors for us to magnificent venues throughout the world. Its continuing success is testament to the vision of ECM, and was followed by two more albums.
Reading on mobile? Watch Jan Garbarek and the Hilliard Ensemble perform Officium Novum
This year, our fabled partnership will end because the Hilliards are retiring in December 2014. But for now, Officium lives, and we're spending much of the year touring throughout Europe and the UK in wonderful cathedrals and abbeys, including Bath, Gloucester, Salisbury and Southwark, starting tonight with the fabulous Kelvingrove art gallery and museum in Glasgow and tomorrow at the Aberdeen jazz festival.
What still staggers me, even now, is that Jan has never once looked at a single piece of the music we sing. All he wants to know is what key it's in; he listens to us, and then as long as he can find a way in, he joins in. His extraordinary improvising liberated us too; after working with him we were no longer static in front of our music stands, but are frequently to be found wandering round the churches and cathedrals without scores, as he does.
Manfred Eicher was also responsible for sowing and nurturing the seeds of our other long-term relationship - also a memorable first meeting back in 1985. On a dreary September day we arrived at a remote East London church for a fairly routine BBC recording of some small sacred works by a then relatively unknown Estonian composer Arvo Pärt - only to find Pärt himself in attendance with Manfred. He wandered around shredding small sheets of paper from on high while we sang, and the church lit up with the shining purity of his music. We all felt as if we had been born to sing these glorious pieces our whole lives. He felt this too and paid us the greatest compliment by saying, in his characteristically quiet way, that we sang the music exactly as he heard it in his head when he composed it. He has inspired and influenced us in sometimes unusual ways and taught us not to be afraid of silence - it is as important as the notes themselves; musicians are all too often afraid of embracing that.
Reading on mobile? Watch the Hilliard Ensemble perform Arvo Pärt's Most Holy Mother of God
Now, in our 40th and final year, perhaps it's as good a time as any to clarify some of the misconceptions that have hounded us. We are often asked why we called ourselves the Hilliard Ensemble; many mistakenly think it was after one of our founding members, Paul Hillier (not Hilliard, in fact). Actually we named ourselves after the Elizabethan miniaturist Nicholas Hilliard, not only because he was contemporaneous with much of the late 15th and 16th-century music at the core of our repertoire, but also because he is renowned for his exquisite detailing and refined artistry - things we aspired to musically.
While we're on the subject of names, it might be good to point out that there is, as yet, no such thing as a crump tenor - a title often attributed to our tenor Rogers Covey-Crump (erroneously named on so many occasions including such gems as Rogers Corey-Grunt or Covery-Crumb). Nor is the term "country tenor" in the musical lexicon despite that being how I, a counter tenor, was once described on a billboard.
Another misconception is that we are an early music ensemble. In fact we have always combined ancient and modern, secular and religious from our very first concert. With our vocal range - alto, two tenors and a bass – we weren't going to be singing Classical and Romantic repertoire and we didn't want to be restricted to music for male voices from the middle ages and Renaissance, so we have always been committed to seeking out composers willing to write new work for us.
Over the years people have wondered how four such different personalities can function so well together? Our eccentricity and bizarre chemistry have probably contributed to our longevity, along with a good deal of trust, robust health and mutual respect. We are also of the same mind when it comes to dress and appearance, in so far as it has never really mattered to us - we have actually been described as looking like four used-car salesmen, or even four funeral directors on one occasion.
So why are we retiring? With Gordon (Jones), Rogers and me now in our 60s, we began to wonder what should become of the Hilliards. Steven (Harrold), who joined 15 years ago and is our youngest member, wasn't keen on the idea of three new colleagues – and would it really then be the Hilliard Ensemble? The toughest option was to have a cut-off date. The year we celebrate our 40th birthday seemed like the best to also say goodbye. We have always tried to convey that our vocal quartet is of as much value as the string quartets of this world. It would be wonderful to think that, in the future, ensemble singing will also be a treasured art form. Then we'd feel our legacy has survived.
*• The Hilliard Ensemble and Jan Garbarek are at Kelvingrove Museum and Gallery, Glasgow on 14 March and Aberdeen Jazz Festival on 15 March. The Hilliard Ensemble sings Pärt's Litany and the UK premiere of Voice of St Columba by Gavin Bryars at Southwark Cathedral with City of London Sinfonia and the Holst Singers on 27 March.*
• How to sing Kafka, in the Hilliard Ensemble's words Reported by guardian.co.uk 8 hours ago.
St Gerold is a monastery tucked away high in the Austrian alps just over the border from Switzerland. There's been a church on this spot for over 1,000 years. It is now 21 years since the four members of the Hilliard Ensemble found ourselves there on a musical blind date with saxophonist Jan Garbarek - an artistic experiment that was the brainchild of our producer, Manfred Eicher at ECM Records. Apprehensive, we waited nervously for a while wondering how to proceed, until we decided to just do what we do: sing. So we began a long, slow homophonic funeral motet by Spanish composer, Cristobel Morales, expecting Jan would listen and then respond in some way. As we were nearing the end, I felt a deep shuddering vibration, as if at sea on a ferry, a sensation that swiftly became an explosion of interweaving ethereal sounds. Jan had grasped his saxophone and introduced a fifth voice. It was the most magical musical moment in my entire 40-year career with the Hilliard Ensemble.
That day was the beginning of a profound and lasting relationship. When we finished the piece, no one in the chapel moved or made a sound. Then Eicher leapt from his seat and said: "We have to record it!" We reconvened two months later to record Officium, the album that sold over a million copies and has for 20 years been opening doors for us to magnificent venues throughout the world. Its continuing success is testament to the vision of ECM, and was followed by two more albums.
Reading on mobile? Watch Jan Garbarek and the Hilliard Ensemble perform Officium Novum
This year, our fabled partnership will end because the Hilliards are retiring in December 2014. But for now, Officium lives, and we're spending much of the year touring throughout Europe and the UK in wonderful cathedrals and abbeys, including Bath, Gloucester, Salisbury and Southwark, starting tonight with the fabulous Kelvingrove art gallery and museum in Glasgow and tomorrow at the Aberdeen jazz festival.
What still staggers me, even now, is that Jan has never once looked at a single piece of the music we sing. All he wants to know is what key it's in; he listens to us, and then as long as he can find a way in, he joins in. His extraordinary improvising liberated us too; after working with him we were no longer static in front of our music stands, but are frequently to be found wandering round the churches and cathedrals without scores, as he does.
Manfred Eicher was also responsible for sowing and nurturing the seeds of our other long-term relationship - also a memorable first meeting back in 1985. On a dreary September day we arrived at a remote East London church for a fairly routine BBC recording of some small sacred works by a then relatively unknown Estonian composer Arvo Pärt - only to find Pärt himself in attendance with Manfred. He wandered around shredding small sheets of paper from on high while we sang, and the church lit up with the shining purity of his music. We all felt as if we had been born to sing these glorious pieces our whole lives. He felt this too and paid us the greatest compliment by saying, in his characteristically quiet way, that we sang the music exactly as he heard it in his head when he composed it. He has inspired and influenced us in sometimes unusual ways and taught us not to be afraid of silence - it is as important as the notes themselves; musicians are all too often afraid of embracing that.
Reading on mobile? Watch the Hilliard Ensemble perform Arvo Pärt's Most Holy Mother of God
Now, in our 40th and final year, perhaps it's as good a time as any to clarify some of the misconceptions that have hounded us. We are often asked why we called ourselves the Hilliard Ensemble; many mistakenly think it was after one of our founding members, Paul Hillier (not Hilliard, in fact). Actually we named ourselves after the Elizabethan miniaturist Nicholas Hilliard, not only because he was contemporaneous with much of the late 15th and 16th-century music at the core of our repertoire, but also because he is renowned for his exquisite detailing and refined artistry - things we aspired to musically.
While we're on the subject of names, it might be good to point out that there is, as yet, no such thing as a crump tenor - a title often attributed to our tenor Rogers Covey-Crump (erroneously named on so many occasions including such gems as Rogers Corey-Grunt or Covery-Crumb). Nor is the term "country tenor" in the musical lexicon despite that being how I, a counter tenor, was once described on a billboard.
Another misconception is that we are an early music ensemble. In fact we have always combined ancient and modern, secular and religious from our very first concert. With our vocal range - alto, two tenors and a bass – we weren't going to be singing Classical and Romantic repertoire and we didn't want to be restricted to music for male voices from the middle ages and Renaissance, so we have always been committed to seeking out composers willing to write new work for us.
Over the years people have wondered how four such different personalities can function so well together? Our eccentricity and bizarre chemistry have probably contributed to our longevity, along with a good deal of trust, robust health and mutual respect. We are also of the same mind when it comes to dress and appearance, in so far as it has never really mattered to us - we have actually been described as looking like four used-car salesmen, or even four funeral directors on one occasion.
So why are we retiring? With Gordon (Jones), Rogers and me now in our 60s, we began to wonder what should become of the Hilliards. Steven (Harrold), who joined 15 years ago and is our youngest member, wasn't keen on the idea of three new colleagues – and would it really then be the Hilliard Ensemble? The toughest option was to have a cut-off date. The year we celebrate our 40th birthday seemed like the best to also say goodbye. We have always tried to convey that our vocal quartet is of as much value as the string quartets of this world. It would be wonderful to think that, in the future, ensemble singing will also be a treasured art form. Then we'd feel our legacy has survived.
*• The Hilliard Ensemble and Jan Garbarek are at Kelvingrove Museum and Gallery, Glasgow on 14 March and Aberdeen Jazz Festival on 15 March. The Hilliard Ensemble sings Pärt's Litany and the UK premiere of Voice of St Columba by Gavin Bryars at Southwark Cathedral with City of London Sinfonia and the Holst Singers on 27 March.*
• How to sing Kafka, in the Hilliard Ensemble's words Reported by guardian.co.uk 8 hours ago.