Deep River
American Record Guide - January/February 2004
Lindsay Koob

I was transfixed by the two previous releases from Cantus, Minnesota's terrific men's ensemble-check out my recent double review (see Let Your Voice be Heard, M/A 2003, p 216). They're among my top choral picks for 2003 (this issue). Imagine the big smile on my face when I found these wonderful a cappella arrangements of American Negro spirituals and work songs from this lovable group among my current to-do pile!

If you read my recent review of the spiritual-based choral works of Nathaniel Dett (previous issue-also a top pick), you know of my general preference for black singers in this corner of the repertoire, as they offer unbeatable idiomatic authenticity. But any competent and emotive choir can give beautiful voice to spirituals in their own fashion. Turn them over to a master ensemble like Cantus, and the result is pure, heart-stirring choral magic.

These - all by black composers - are among THE classic arrangements of their kind, beginning with those of Harry T. Burleigh (1866-1949): the first great (perhaps the greatest) chronicler and preserver of his people's musical heritage. The contributions of William Levi Dawson (1899-1990), Jester Hairston (1902-2000) and John W. Work III (1901-1967) are no less lovely or important. Cantus member Erick Lichte's excellent program notes will tell you of their timeless contributions to the American choral tradition. He also provides a concise history and typology of the spirituals genre.

Most of your favorites (and mine) are here: "Ezekiel saw de wheel", "Were you there", "Balm in Gilead", "Deep river", "Swing low, sweet chariot", "Steal away", "My Lord, what a mornin' ", and "Ev'ry time I feel the spirit". Lesser-known gems include Hairston's "Poor man Laz'rus" and Dawson's "In his care-o". Brief contrasts from the spirituals come with the convict songs: Work's "This ol' hammer" and Hairston's "Great God a'mighty". There's not a number here that won't beguile, thrill or choke up most choral buffs.

The twelve amazing men of Cantus weave their usual spell, with singing of unimaginable (unless you've heard them) precision, sensitivity and deep emotional power. Their way with this music's unique brand of aching sorrow keeps recurring lumps in your throat; their sense of jubilant celebration makes you want to get up and dance and sing along.

They are true chamber musicians, as they rehearse and perform without a conductor or other leader. Their levels of interpretive teamwork and emotional unity would be impossible were not every one of them a consummate vocal virtuoso, with the kind of deep and instinctive musicianship that allows each to attune his work perfectly to that of his fellows. Their stunning sonorities are captured in warm, rich, and clear sound; notes and texts are nicely laid out.

Having performed nearly half of these pieces over the years - many in other arrangements - I couldn't help singing along (no dancing) here and there. LET the neighbors think I'm crazy! I fear that choral nuts in general - but especially spirituals fans - just can't go on living without this one.