Sydney Philharmonia Choirs; Eternity in an Hour; Eric Whitacre; (Photo Keith Saunders)

Fri 27 June 2025

Review by Paul Neeson (Arts Wednesday)

Eric Whitacre is the master of suspension. Not in the horror movie kind of way, but more in his ability to create musical tension through harmony, sustain it until you think it will burst, and then resolve it in the most satisfying way that just makes you sigh and go “Ahhhhhh”

In this program he curated some of the most extraordinarily beautiful choral music ever composed (mostly by himself) and not only did he conduct the work and set the lighting and staging, but also choreographed the amazing talent of VOX, the Sydney Philharmonia’s young adult choir.

After Deborah Cheetham’s Acknowledgement of Country (a welcome start to every Philharmonia Choirs concert) the program proper began with some ‘traditional’ fare by Whitacre, Lux Aurumque, (Light and Gold). Traditional only in the sense that the choir sings the text straight through with no exotic vocal techniques. (More on that later) But it is Whitacre’s ability to create tension through stacking harmonic suspensions on top of each other, and slowly releasing them into a final major triad that makes this work one of the most pleasing choral works to hear and I guess to perform. Lux Aurumque was the first work in Whitacre’s Virtual Choir Project that set the internet on fire.

But then the real fun began as we ventured off into aural landscapes that I have never imagined possible. Sarah Hopkins’ work Past Life Melodies we were told is one of the most performed Australian choral works throughout Europe, yet it is virtually unknown in Australia. The piece begins with humming in unison that has an eery feel, breaking out into a chant that evokes tribal ritual. The drone underneath accentuates that impression. Before long we are hearing sounds that cannot possibly be human, but there is no other explanation. It is the layering of dissonant pedal points that reverberate through the tribal chanting dislodging our sense of what is real. At times we think we are hearing strings, or even didjeridus. Extraordinary!

And if that wasn’t enough, what came next completely blew away any preconceptions of what massed voices can achieve. Edwin London took a Bach Chorale, Come Sweet Death, and created a most unexpected masterpiece. Whitacre even admitted it is the one piece of music he wishes he had composed (see interview below). Incredible praise from a choral master. So the trick with this work is that the choir sings the Bach chorale through and then Whitacre walks to the side of the stage and the choir has to sing it again but at their own individual tempo. Sounds simple, but the result cannot be imagined. Then Whitacre had the genius idea of introducing arm movements for the various phrases so we could see where each individual chorister was up to showing the variations and overlaps within the texture we are hearing.

To close the first half, more music from Whitacre, Cloud Burst, one of his very early works. His genius was already apparent. Inspired by the sounds in nature before and immediately after a thunderstorm, it is a setting of a Spanish poem by Octavio Paz. After a solo soprano part, the choir create this ever-growing buzz that burst with a loud handclap, the Cloud Burst of the title. But what follows is totally unexpected. Some singers have hand bells and other percussion that builds the tempest, and the rest are tasked with finger clicking that we realise is the sound of soft rain falling. Whitacre invites the audience to join in and the rain is falling throughout the Concert Hall in surround sound.

Whitacre’s genius goes well beyond composition. What we experienced was a complete theatrical production involving lighting that not only created atmosphere but illuminated the dynamics of the music, as well as choreography echoing and adding to the music.

And to the 2nd half and the major work in the program Eternity in an Hour. Whitacre’s inspiration and the text derive from a poem by William Blake, Auguries of Innocence. For this mammoth work (yes it lasts an hour) VOX is joined by cellist, Julian Smiles and pianist, Tim Cunniffe. As well Whitacre has a massive table covered in various electronic devices. Let me begin by saying that what evolved before our ears was the most engaging sculpting of sound, blending the acoustic elements with the treated in a way that you lost track of what was real, and what engineered. The name Benvenuto Cellini came to my mind, as the Renaissance sculpture created exquisite beauty from gold and marble, so did Whitacre from breath and electrons. Each of the 8 lines of the poem were dedicated a movement, delineated by the striking of a pair of crotales (bell). The intervening textures were a constantly evolving landscape of ethereal washes, occasionally broken by an untreated solo cello or a heavily treated piano that sounded a bit like the theme from Twin Peaks. Whitacre was electronically manipulating the elements in real time via microphones placed throughout the choir. Voice melded into strings into percussion into piano. By the 6th movement, some uncomfortable fidgeting in the hall made me wonder if some audience members were wishing Blake had called the poem “Eternity in 45 Minutes” instead. But the conclusion arrived soon enough with the words “In an Hour” being repeated to 8 strikes of the crotales, eventually fading to black. The hall was breathless. Until the lights faded up and then it erupted into a sustained standing ovation.

We had experienced one of those rare moments in our concert going lives. A master craftsman of sound, light and drama had us spellbound from start to finish, with our incredulity growing with each subsequent piece. Eric Whitacre, we salute you, and VOX, your instrument of choice, who not only sang to perfection, but moved in harmony, played percussion and adapted to the various choral techniques demanded by these brilliant contemporary composers. Bravo!