Aled Jones 2005
After the fantastic concert in March, which I never produced a review for, only 8 months down the line and Aled Jones appears once again at the Colston Hall, Bristol. Armed once again with camera and open heart, and this time paper and pen for copious notetaking (I may freelance something for the University newspaper), I carried a happy self to Colston Avenue with a typical high expectation of a highly enjoyable evening. Needless to say, expectations were met. Please join me on the journey.
Colston Hall
I've always been haunted watching The Snowman: mystical, exciting, adventurous... wistful. If anyone were to ask of me my favourite 'musical', I'd feel justified in declaring this. As Samuel Johnson says of the ending of King Lear, 'I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia’s death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor', I might watch or read plenty that is graphic, violent, somehow unpleasant or distasteful, and yet I find it so difficult to watch this elegant, hedonic animation from the 80s. The original 1982 track was sung by Peter Auty, but it reached No. 5 in the U.K. charts through Aled. Coincidentally, I learnt the name of David Bowie more memorably from The Snowman than any other, but in his 21st Century resurgence, the memories all came flooding back to this liberating, poignant 80s capture. The awakening to Aled once again for me came, strangely enough, through catching Des & Mel one November lunchtime in November 2002. The reemergence of this prolific voice with the first adult album had obviously caught some attention in the entertainment world, and in a promotion spot, he performed Vespera with backing group Libera, led by the exceptional organiser Robert Prizeman, who has done much for the development of contemporary classical music. That warming chorus melody together with the haunting Latin lyric and surgence of dynamics left me adamant that the debut album would be on the Christmas purchase list for that year.
Delving into this album, it's very easy to realise what a special talent is on display. Aled's adult voice has descended into a rich baritone, and the opening track, 'I Believe', exemplifies much about the music then and that was to come: a powerful anthem which cries out to be sung well, and done so, in a voice that is pure double cream - smooth, but with substance. I'll be disagreeing quite heavily with Robert Farr's opinions. Why should classical music be demanding? In fact, Aled Jones brings to the forefront a rare voice that is easy listening, but holding the natural ability that the likes of Daniel O'Donnell never reach. In fact, there's a purity to a voice that isn't overbearing, tersed with vibrato or vexed with trills to avoid weak pitch areas. The most reaching areas of Aled's tracks are often his endings: when the keyboard arrangements become softer and the voice carries the most weight, and when he reaches the real climax of ability, none more so than the ethereal Pie Jesu with 'sempiternam requiem', sung with the distinction of beauty the words represent. This album has a feel of one carefully and diligently put together, and the traditional classics (My Life Flows On familiar from Enya's tour of Donegal with the alternative title How Can I Keep From Singing?; How Great Thou Art - as Aled portends, the nation's favourite hymn) enriched with quality arrangements.
Prizeman's work is priceless. Quality of music does matter, and there's nothing wrong in realizing that rich keyboard arrangements compliment rather than ruin a quality voice. Indeed, the hallowing opening to the latter spreads the awe. It gives that edge to contemporary sound, the new age and the way forward for classical music. Finally, something rather unique in my experience: Oh, Holy Night, originally recorded as junior soprano in 1984, and now layered with new Aled. Having a duet with oneself is abstract enough, quite different from layered vocals; and secondly, most phenomenally, at almost 20 years apart. Having also had the pleasure to see the video compilation, the 1984 live BBC recording screened and layered by Aled live at Bridgwater Hall makes the experience alive and all the more surreal. It is also fitting to feel a touch of nostalgia in acknowledgement of years past, looking back to one career gone and another beginning. This album also has a special place with me as I listened to it non-stop en route to my first ever visit to Bristol for the Open Day in March 2003: a trip sparking a bold step of independence that would have left me troubled with nerves had this not calmed the soul enough to believe I was safe.
Aled Jones: March 2005
December 2003, the World of University has begun, and I return home refreshing early after an academically positive first term. For helping with leaflet distributions, I'm treated to the eagerly anticipated second album: Higher. Again, a mixture of traditional and more contemporary tracks, and delighted to see by the dynamic start that Aled's correlation with Libera is still a strong one. "Not a backing group" as Aled rightly testifies, with their own releases, 'Libera' and 'Luminosa' (and since, 'Free' and 'Visions'), but they do complement superbly, and Sal Solo's San Damiano remains one of my favourite Aled tracks. The music video shows how refreshing the temperament is, and retains the disposition that the music, despite dynamics and emotional intensity that can easily build in Aled's repertoir, has an altogether relaxed feel and a deeper soothing and even healing quality. From the traditional tracks, Welsh heritage, powerful endings and the duet with junior Aled, this is in almost every way a mirror album of the first. But this does not lead to disappointment. The soul-searching You Raise Me Up, the calibre of song that will, as proven, steal some further glory for some undeserving whitewashed group, is something of a personal anthem. This is the real healer: taking the album title, 'Higher', to it's full understanding. For all the intensity here, this is an album to lift, raise, and ultimately celebrate.
Aled's two Autmunal/Christmas tours of '04 and '05 were both in promotion of new albums. The 2004 Christmas tour, 'Songs of Christmas', would happily revel in the release of the Christmas Album; the real disappointment being that the first show accompanied by Libera, at Bristol's Colston Hall in December, was postponed due to Aled's unexpected success in the affamed Strictly Come Dancing. He exited the competition the following semi-final round, leaving Bristol fans to hold on a few extra months to be endorsed in the early Spring. Nevertheless, the album provided consolation in the Christmas spirit that could not be brought live in performance. The album opens with an exquisite O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and, in the intrguing manner which sees many of Aled's songs, for better taste or worse (In the Bleak Midwinter does suffer for the experimentation), fluctate between major and minor key signatures, this ends charismatically major to gave that victorious, trumphant sound. What made this appeal even more was its inclusion in the Wills Carol Service, teaching me the tenor stave, and also ending on that major chord, which sets the whole song ablaze. An improvement from 'Higher' turns the classic Silent Night into a duet with the delightful Hayley Westenra; two glorious voices that Classic F.M. would give plenty of airing time last Winter. The contemporary feel in arrangements is ever appreciated, some of the traditional, delicate sounding classical instrumental accompaniment of Away in a Manger and The Angel Gabriel compared with the rich keyboard and organ sounds, including the atmospheric Coventry Carol. Some of the unorthodox descants (Libera) provide a surprising difference, and whatever can be said of the 'developing quality' of voice in the previous two albums cannot possibly be extended here, where the baritone range is characterically strong in higher endings (Candelight Carol), and solo verses are perfectly refined; O Come All ye Faithful, a universally enjoyed beauty, provides no better example.
Rescheduled for March, the Christmas pageant was inevitably down and out, and despite the absence of Libera this time around, there was no complaining at a line up of 'Aled' and 'Higher', featuring most of the favourites. Colston Hall was almost full back in March, and the atmosphere was electric, making me largely overawed at the occasion, especially just realising for the first time that I was probably amongst the youngest in the audience. Although I didn't take any jottings here, highlights of this concert will never leave, as much for the timing and future influence it was to have on me this year as the brilliance of music. It could be the cornerstone of this year in many ways, and was definitely a home-in-home, domestic experience: the first music performance I'd seen live in this country, and at that, the type of genre / music / artist who lets you consider self-discovery. Perhaps the best way to reflect upon this too is to provide a comparison leaning more heavily on the recent concert, for which I have more structured notes. November ran as scheduled; Bristol this year luckily not one of the performances affected by necessary filming for other Christmas material, and could remain a venue for the 2005 'New Horizons' tour, celebrating the release of Aled's 4th major UCJ album in as many years. Back to Colston Hall then for the 2nd time in 9 months, feeling as much a collaborative fan as journallist as classical music enthusiast, blissful in awareness I would enjoy it all.
Aled Jones: November 2005
The first item of strange notice was the lower crowd this time around. What would lead people to such attend such a concert? There is no doubt that both the delay of three months from December '04 to March '05, following the rise to greater celebrity fame in Strictly Come Dancing, and three months of extra publicity and subsequent sales was a contributor to the near full capacity. The momentum of that has dwindled over the months, but despite Aled's initial slight sounding at the attendance, there was no doubt by the rigorous applauses and occasional banter through the second half that the 60-65% full crowd were closer fans, giving more of a homely feel, certainly making up for the lack of numbers. I'm sure most artists will attest their preference in performing to smaller numbers of more dedicated fans; some even plan for the privilege. Nevertheless, both concerts had their eloquent combination of new and upcoming classical artists as support, together with 'Aled's Angels' and Dominic Kelly performing select classical pieces. The highlights of the orchestral selection in March were more contemporary: a delightful rendition of Robbie Williams' Angels appropriately enough, by the Angels, and the unexpected twist of D.K. standing, swivelling around the piano to collect an deftly hidden oboe, and launching almost immediately into one of my favourite classical numbers, Ennio Morricone's legendary Gabriel's Oboe from 'The Mission' [since becoming Nella Fantasia to Sarah Brightman, Russell Watson (recommended), Il Divo and others]. I also recently discovered Dominic's involvement in some of my favourite television themes and musical snippets, especially 'Where the Heart Is' and, bizarrely enough, the Cadbury Flake coda to Coronation Street which I used to quietly string to during violin practice on Sunday nights. This time around saw a more traditional Classical feel, with harpist Hayley Dredge and celloist Katherine Jenkinson providing a selection of Debussy to warm accolade. The acoustics of Colston Hall are not ideal, and yet the harp is unusual in managing to carry the most delicate of sounds so well in this old arena, and give a sublimely rich start to the show.
The tingle of the spine which comes with being worryingly attached to your artist of preference struck up when the lights dimmed further, the columns swathed to violet and cream, and the orchestra began over the recording of Lead Kindly Light; and upon the ending of the first verse, there Aled was revealed, mic in hand at the corner of the stage. There, how quickly it passed in my mind, soaring back through the months without barely having heard a word this night, just how good a live artist Aled is: I would never know whether that opening verse was the produced recording or sang live out of our viewing range: he really is that strong. So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on. / O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till the night is gone... ~ It felt as deft and mellow an entrance as March's was loud and proud, but little surprise considering how March's postponement perhaps felt more of a special occasion in itself; there was no mistaking Aled's indifference in noting that November's Bristol appearance presented venue 28 of 39 over a heavy schedule, and then what seemed an initial disappointment in the relatively low turn-out as opposed to the near full house in March. This did seem to change soon, however: there can be little doubting the voracity of some of Aled's Bristol fans; you can only whimper about the extra revenue that the less enthusiastic viewers provide. In that case, every consolation that throughout the interval, the rather expensive merchandise stand was heaving, and copy after copy of 'New Horizons' flying out. Aled Jones and Bristol have a mutual love, and whatever doubts or testing circumstances come about, it doesn't take long to recognize this symbiotic relationship in his merry performances.
The wonderful Trinití, November 2005 (Support)
To be Completed
Colston Hall
I've always been haunted watching The Snowman: mystical, exciting, adventurous... wistful. If anyone were to ask of me my favourite 'musical', I'd feel justified in declaring this. As Samuel Johnson says of the ending of King Lear, 'I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia’s death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor', I might watch or read plenty that is graphic, violent, somehow unpleasant or distasteful, and yet I find it so difficult to watch this elegant, hedonic animation from the 80s. The original 1982 track was sung by Peter Auty, but it reached No. 5 in the U.K. charts through Aled. Coincidentally, I learnt the name of David Bowie more memorably from The Snowman than any other, but in his 21st Century resurgence, the memories all came flooding back to this liberating, poignant 80s capture. The awakening to Aled once again for me came, strangely enough, through catching Des & Mel one November lunchtime in November 2002. The reemergence of this prolific voice with the first adult album had obviously caught some attention in the entertainment world, and in a promotion spot, he performed Vespera with backing group Libera, led by the exceptional organiser Robert Prizeman, who has done much for the development of contemporary classical music. That warming chorus melody together with the haunting Latin lyric and surgence of dynamics left me adamant that the debut album would be on the Christmas purchase list for that year.
Delving into this album, it's very easy to realise what a special talent is on display. Aled's adult voice has descended into a rich baritone, and the opening track, 'I Believe', exemplifies much about the music then and that was to come: a powerful anthem which cries out to be sung well, and done so, in a voice that is pure double cream - smooth, but with substance. I'll be disagreeing quite heavily with Robert Farr's opinions. Why should classical music be demanding? In fact, Aled Jones brings to the forefront a rare voice that is easy listening, but holding the natural ability that the likes of Daniel O'Donnell never reach. In fact, there's a purity to a voice that isn't overbearing, tersed with vibrato or vexed with trills to avoid weak pitch areas. The most reaching areas of Aled's tracks are often his endings: when the keyboard arrangements become softer and the voice carries the most weight, and when he reaches the real climax of ability, none more so than the ethereal Pie Jesu with 'sempiternam requiem', sung with the distinction of beauty the words represent. This album has a feel of one carefully and diligently put together, and the traditional classics (My Life Flows On familiar from Enya's tour of Donegal with the alternative title How Can I Keep From Singing?; How Great Thou Art - as Aled portends, the nation's favourite hymn) enriched with quality arrangements.
Prizeman's work is priceless. Quality of music does matter, and there's nothing wrong in realizing that rich keyboard arrangements compliment rather than ruin a quality voice. Indeed, the hallowing opening to the latter spreads the awe. It gives that edge to contemporary sound, the new age and the way forward for classical music. Finally, something rather unique in my experience: Oh, Holy Night, originally recorded as junior soprano in 1984, and now layered with new Aled. Having a duet with oneself is abstract enough, quite different from layered vocals; and secondly, most phenomenally, at almost 20 years apart. Having also had the pleasure to see the video compilation, the 1984 live BBC recording screened and layered by Aled live at Bridgwater Hall makes the experience alive and all the more surreal. It is also fitting to feel a touch of nostalgia in acknowledgement of years past, looking back to one career gone and another beginning. This album also has a special place with me as I listened to it non-stop en route to my first ever visit to Bristol for the Open Day in March 2003: a trip sparking a bold step of independence that would have left me troubled with nerves had this not calmed the soul enough to believe I was safe.
Aled Jones: March 2005
December 2003, the World of University has begun, and I return home refreshing early after an academically positive first term. For helping with leaflet distributions, I'm treated to the eagerly anticipated second album: Higher. Again, a mixture of traditional and more contemporary tracks, and delighted to see by the dynamic start that Aled's correlation with Libera is still a strong one. "Not a backing group" as Aled rightly testifies, with their own releases, 'Libera' and 'Luminosa' (and since, 'Free' and 'Visions'), but they do complement superbly, and Sal Solo's San Damiano remains one of my favourite Aled tracks. The music video shows how refreshing the temperament is, and retains the disposition that the music, despite dynamics and emotional intensity that can easily build in Aled's repertoir, has an altogether relaxed feel and a deeper soothing and even healing quality. From the traditional tracks, Welsh heritage, powerful endings and the duet with junior Aled, this is in almost every way a mirror album of the first. But this does not lead to disappointment. The soul-searching You Raise Me Up, the calibre of song that will, as proven, steal some further glory for some undeserving whitewashed group, is something of a personal anthem. This is the real healer: taking the album title, 'Higher', to it's full understanding. For all the intensity here, this is an album to lift, raise, and ultimately celebrate.
Aled's two Autmunal/Christmas tours of '04 and '05 were both in promotion of new albums. The 2004 Christmas tour, 'Songs of Christmas', would happily revel in the release of the Christmas Album; the real disappointment being that the first show accompanied by Libera, at Bristol's Colston Hall in December, was postponed due to Aled's unexpected success in the affamed Strictly Come Dancing. He exited the competition the following semi-final round, leaving Bristol fans to hold on a few extra months to be endorsed in the early Spring. Nevertheless, the album provided consolation in the Christmas spirit that could not be brought live in performance. The album opens with an exquisite O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and, in the intrguing manner which sees many of Aled's songs, for better taste or worse (In the Bleak Midwinter does suffer for the experimentation), fluctate between major and minor key signatures, this ends charismatically major to gave that victorious, trumphant sound. What made this appeal even more was its inclusion in the Wills Carol Service, teaching me the tenor stave, and also ending on that major chord, which sets the whole song ablaze. An improvement from 'Higher' turns the classic Silent Night into a duet with the delightful Hayley Westenra; two glorious voices that Classic F.M. would give plenty of airing time last Winter. The contemporary feel in arrangements is ever appreciated, some of the traditional, delicate sounding classical instrumental accompaniment of Away in a Manger and The Angel Gabriel compared with the rich keyboard and organ sounds, including the atmospheric Coventry Carol. Some of the unorthodox descants (Libera) provide a surprising difference, and whatever can be said of the 'developing quality' of voice in the previous two albums cannot possibly be extended here, where the baritone range is characterically strong in higher endings (Candelight Carol), and solo verses are perfectly refined; O Come All ye Faithful, a universally enjoyed beauty, provides no better example.
Rescheduled for March, the Christmas pageant was inevitably down and out, and despite the absence of Libera this time around, there was no complaining at a line up of 'Aled' and 'Higher', featuring most of the favourites. Colston Hall was almost full back in March, and the atmosphere was electric, making me largely overawed at the occasion, especially just realising for the first time that I was probably amongst the youngest in the audience. Although I didn't take any jottings here, highlights of this concert will never leave, as much for the timing and future influence it was to have on me this year as the brilliance of music. It could be the cornerstone of this year in many ways, and was definitely a home-in-home, domestic experience: the first music performance I'd seen live in this country, and at that, the type of genre / music / artist who lets you consider self-discovery. Perhaps the best way to reflect upon this too is to provide a comparison leaning more heavily on the recent concert, for which I have more structured notes. November ran as scheduled; Bristol this year luckily not one of the performances affected by necessary filming for other Christmas material, and could remain a venue for the 2005 'New Horizons' tour, celebrating the release of Aled's 4th major UCJ album in as many years. Back to Colston Hall then for the 2nd time in 9 months, feeling as much a collaborative fan as journallist as classical music enthusiast, blissful in awareness I would enjoy it all.
Aled Jones: November 2005
The first item of strange notice was the lower crowd this time around. What would lead people to such attend such a concert? There is no doubt that both the delay of three months from December '04 to March '05, following the rise to greater celebrity fame in Strictly Come Dancing, and three months of extra publicity and subsequent sales was a contributor to the near full capacity. The momentum of that has dwindled over the months, but despite Aled's initial slight sounding at the attendance, there was no doubt by the rigorous applauses and occasional banter through the second half that the 60-65% full crowd were closer fans, giving more of a homely feel, certainly making up for the lack of numbers. I'm sure most artists will attest their preference in performing to smaller numbers of more dedicated fans; some even plan for the privilege. Nevertheless, both concerts had their eloquent combination of new and upcoming classical artists as support, together with 'Aled's Angels' and Dominic Kelly performing select classical pieces. The highlights of the orchestral selection in March were more contemporary: a delightful rendition of Robbie Williams' Angels appropriately enough, by the Angels, and the unexpected twist of D.K. standing, swivelling around the piano to collect an deftly hidden oboe, and launching almost immediately into one of my favourite classical numbers, Ennio Morricone's legendary Gabriel's Oboe from 'The Mission' [since becoming Nella Fantasia to Sarah Brightman, Russell Watson (recommended), Il Divo and others]. I also recently discovered Dominic's involvement in some of my favourite television themes and musical snippets, especially 'Where the Heart Is' and, bizarrely enough, the Cadbury Flake coda to Coronation Street which I used to quietly string to during violin practice on Sunday nights. This time around saw a more traditional Classical feel, with harpist Hayley Dredge and celloist Katherine Jenkinson providing a selection of Debussy to warm accolade. The acoustics of Colston Hall are not ideal, and yet the harp is unusual in managing to carry the most delicate of sounds so well in this old arena, and give a sublimely rich start to the show.
The tingle of the spine which comes with being worryingly attached to your artist of preference struck up when the lights dimmed further, the columns swathed to violet and cream, and the orchestra began over the recording of Lead Kindly Light; and upon the ending of the first verse, there Aled was revealed, mic in hand at the corner of the stage. There, how quickly it passed in my mind, soaring back through the months without barely having heard a word this night, just how good a live artist Aled is: I would never know whether that opening verse was the produced recording or sang live out of our viewing range: he really is that strong. So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on. / O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till the night is gone... ~ It felt as deft and mellow an entrance as March's was loud and proud, but little surprise considering how March's postponement perhaps felt more of a special occasion in itself; there was no mistaking Aled's indifference in noting that November's Bristol appearance presented venue 28 of 39 over a heavy schedule, and then what seemed an initial disappointment in the relatively low turn-out as opposed to the near full house in March. This did seem to change soon, however: there can be little doubting the voracity of some of Aled's Bristol fans; you can only whimper about the extra revenue that the less enthusiastic viewers provide. In that case, every consolation that throughout the interval, the rather expensive merchandise stand was heaving, and copy after copy of 'New Horizons' flying out. Aled Jones and Bristol have a mutual love, and whatever doubts or testing circumstances come about, it doesn't take long to recognize this symbiotic relationship in his merry performances.
The wonderful Trinití, November 2005 (Support)
To be Completed