- Views2375
- Likes0
Dark Light
Performed by The Young KL Singers
Bangunan UAB, Penang
28 August 2022
Review by MIRIAM DEVAPRASANA
Against the dimness of the hall stream gentle rays creating a juxtaposition of darkness and light. Distant yet warm, rich tones surround me as the choristers make their way out of the space. A curious sensation rises – I am breathless, yet light and uplifted. I see audiences shift in their seats as their eyes follow the backs of the singers. We know the applause is coming, but in the moments of watching and waiting, we are basking in the lingering harmonies of Fauré’s In Paradisum: the perfect ending to a most mesmerising choral performance, leaving this reviewer in awe of the heartfelt production.
There comes a moment when one realises that one has just witnessed an incomparable production. To experience it was sublime. What made Dark Light stand out was how it completely embraced movement, choreography, and storytelling; each element weaved in thoughtfully and purposefully without compromising tone, balance, diction, and timing. In this way, Dark Light set itself as a truly remarkable and unique choral experience, engaging and expanding the capabilities of voice, body, and the explorations of space to create and present a new way of choral music-making.
Dark Light was an hour-long staged choral performance presented by the Young KL Singers (YKLS), one of Malaysia’s award-winning choral ensembles. Directed by Mak Chi Hoe, a renowned conductor, singer, and teacher, Dark Light was initially produced and staged at Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre in May 2022 to a sold-out crowd. The ensemble later toured Penang in late August for two full-house performances at Bangunan UAB, where I caught the show.
Dark Light featured an intriguing repertoire of choral literature spanning 500 years. Works included sacred, folk, and contemporary choral music, exploring compositions from Bingen, Orff, Ešenvalds, Elgar and more. These works delved into contrasting subjects like purity, contempt, sanctity, and corruption. Together, they framed a performance thematically driven by the push-and-pull of good and evil. However, only one of the 14 works was by a Southeast Asian, making the addition of Dumbele by Filipino composer Rodolfo Delarmente a welcome in the otherwise heavily foreign choral selection. I would have appreciated a more balanced repertoire, if anything, for a greater sense of local familiarity with the language(s) and musical patterns. Regardless, Dark Light exposed the various themes brought forth by voices so pure and malleable that their gift addressed interpretations of life beyond words and meaning. This was significantly fostered by movement and choreography by Kenny Shim, adapted to suit the performance space. Collectively, Dark Light embodied a concept neatly termed ‘choral theatre’.
Choral theatre is an emerging art form in the world of choral music-making. While choir performances largely revolve around sound and vocal production, lesser attention is given to what is seen on stage. One typically knows what to expect from a choir – choristers generally stand according to their sections, usually dressed in a signature outfit. Sometimes they use music stands; other times, they hold folders while they steal glances at the conductor for direction. There is minimal play with lighting, little to no set design, and often no interaction between choristers with the people and spaces around them.
In contrast, choral theatre allows vocal ensembles to break away from the traditional mould of choir performances by including narrative, stage design, movement, and lighting. In Dark Light, these are not treated as supplementary but as vital parts of the production. Choristers are not hidden behind an orchestra or distant on a platform, uniformly moving their mouths. Instead, they stand beside, between, and in front of the audience, each fluid and fixed choreographed movement drawing us into the narrative. This aspect enabled the choristers to engage and reach out to the audience in ways never experienced before. And it worked!
The production opens with the 12th-century O Virtus Sapientia, a sacred chant written and composed by Hildegard von Bingen. Voices fill the corners of the space as choristers stand along the sides of the hall while others gradually walk in from the entrance to centre stage. Against the deep resonance from the lower voices, the praise for Wisdom is light and elevating. It encircles the space, creating an atmosphere which edifies the senses. It truly brings out the essence of Bingen’s antiphon for Sapientia (Divine Wisdom), which personifies Wisdom as a winged figure who surrounds and embraces all creation and humanity.
Yet just as we rest in wonderment, trepidation takes over with the opening lines of Fortune plango vulnera, the 2nd movement from Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana. The conductor Mak Chi Hoe accompanies on the keyboard, leaving the choristers to watch and listen – the telling of a good choir. The basses and tenors maintain their firmness and power, and the sopranos and altos deliver this equally. Together, they sufficiently present the vigour and strength such a piece requires. But it is their movements which create excitement. Singers turn in every direction, at times off-beat; every move is deliberate and measured, almost military. While the choral arrangement adequately captures the ‘fall from grace’, the choir’s movement and expressions grip audiences with the tenacity and immediacy of the piece.
These negotiations of subtle or exaggerated movements are maintained throughout the production, further revealing and strengthening the juxtapositions of the narrative-driven programme. While all pieces are deserving of praise (the choir’s rendition of Mantyrjarvi’s Double, Double, Toil and Trouble was positively petrifying, and their performance of Ešenvalds’ Stars with singing wine glasses, enthralling), it was Elder’s Lullaby which caught me off guard with the sheer interpretation of emotions through expressions and performance.
In Lullaby, singers gradually gravitate to each other, forming pairs or groups of three, with love, kindness, and compassion painted across their brows as they seek, find, hold and carry. It is dream-like, soothing, and hopeful, each movement exhibiting a different representation of love and intimacy between friends, strangers, family, partners, parent and child. Yet there is an underlying sense of loss and grief, perhaps symbolic of the experiences from the past two years. In a world scarred by physical and emotional distance, Lullaby reminds us that where life and loss is deeply felt, no one is truly alone.
However, Dark Light did not begin with the usual rigmarole of house rules, nor were there any interruptions throughout the production. Instead, viewers were equipped with an e-programme booklet with information on song titles and translated lyrics. Although this is nothing new, there was simply no need for any further interaction. I appreciated the decision to maintain an uninterrupted performance. In a way, it made the audience focus on the marriage between sound and performance. It encouraged a deeper awareness of the musicality of the pieces, along with their presentation. More importantly, audiences were given the opportunity to discover, for themselves, how these pieces worked together to evoke and inspire. I believe this is something that future choir performances should consider.
Dark Light was an ephemeral gift, stretching sonic possibilities and breaking barriers to the conventional understanding and value of choral music-making. There was a closeness felt among strangers, nurtured by singers whose unwavering courage brought vulnerability and sensitivity to each piece they performed. They served beautiful movements of fear and terror, grace and calm while remaining steadfast in maintaining excellent tone, balance, and vocal blending. The overtones were glorious.
On a side note, what an absolute pleasure to observe Mak Chi Hoe conduct with passion, artistry, and dynamism. It always fascinates me how the movements and body language of the conductor facilitate how a piece is performed – a relationship built on trust and shared vision. That much was evident through Dark Light. Additionally, much of the original production needed to be adapted due to the limitations of the performance space at Bangunan UAB. Kudos to choreographer and co-director Kenny Shim and restaging director Ian Chow for defining movements without abandoning dynamics and for their acute awareness of space. The negotiations of natural lighting marking the beginning and the end truly elevated the production.
YKLS proves that choral theatre is no gimmick or trend but rather an opportunity for choristers to visualize interpretations of the works they perform, providing a glimpse into how the concept enlarges the possibilities of choral music-making in Malaysia. Brava indeed.
The Young Kuala Lumpur Singers celebrate their 20th Anniversary Concert with ‘Kenangan Lagenda’ this weekend at Petaling Jaya Performing Arts Centre, 28-30 Oct 2022.
Photos of the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre production of Dark Light, with lighting design by Tan Eng Heng, are by Chew Seng Cheong, courtesy of The Young KL Singers. Photos of the Penang production are by William Tan.
Reviewer Miriam Devaprasana is an observer and dabbler of creative expressions. She is currently pursuing a PhD in Urban Sociolinguistics and hopes that, one day, her work will help form a new way of thinking ‘Malaysia’. Read her blog at mdev16.wordpress.com
Disclaimer: Miriam sings with the Penang Philharmonic Chorus, of which Mak Chi Hoe is Artistic Director and Conductor.