06/10/2025
CONCERT REVIEW BY CLARE MARTIN - A Tale of Two Stabat Maters: Rossini Meets Kelly.
Last Friday evening at the Auckland Town Hall we witnessed something special - a musical conversation across centuries. Under conductor Valentina Peleggi, the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra presented Rossini's Stabat Mater alongside New Zealand composer Victoria Kelly's bold 2025 commission bearing the same name. The pairing revealed not just contrast, but collision—and from that collision, revelation. This programming wouldn't exist without the NZSO's commitment to new works or Rossini's 19th-century masterpiece that provoked Kelly's response. Thank heavens for both.
And without the talent and experience of conductor Valentina Paleggi, pairing such contrasting Stabat Mater’s would not be possible. Raised on bel canto opera in Italy, she possesses both the DNA and deep understanding required for Rossini's Italianate form. Yet her breadth extended equally to Kelly's contemporary language, straddling both works with assurance. She created an alchemy between choir and orchestra, exploiting the Town Hall's resonant acoustics. I understand this allowed Kelly's work to breathe at a slower tempo than its premiere in Wellington's drier Michael Fowler Centre—a crucial advantage for the piece's poetic sweep.
The choral forces of Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir, drawn from some of New Zealand's finest choirs, commanded the stage for both works. They projected a staggering emotional range—from red-hot drama to breath-taking pathos—with the authority of musicians who understand what's at stake.
It has been too long since I've heard the NZSO in full flight. Sunday night reminded me why I should hear them more often. They created masterly canvasses for both works, with principal oboist Robert Orr bringing particular sweetness and warmth, while the brass section blazed gloriously through the Rossini.
Wonderful that three of the four soloists on stage for the Rossini were New Zealanders. Soprano Maddison Nonoa spun starry lines of pure silver, though in "Inflammatus et accensus" the dramatic weight belonged rightly to choir and orchestra. Tenor Filipe Manu, already making waves in Europe, delivered dazzling elegance—his voice perfect for Mozart and Rossini opera, if occasionally lacking the heft required for this Latin mass.
Mezzo-soprano Anna Pierard sang the mother's suffering in "Fac ut Portem" with deep expressiveness and yearning. Australian bass Jeremy Kleeman brought richness and lustre from top to toe in "Pro peccatis suae gentis." The unaccompanied exchange between choir and bass soloist in "Eia Mater fons amoris" proved sweetly moving.
The finale was fabulous, its "Amen" rivalling the profundity of a Bach Passion. Things were emphatically back on track after a slip in tonality during the treacherous unaccompanied quartet. Peleggi danced on the podium with possessed energy as the piece ended in exultant triumph.
Then, without interval and almost without warning, the universe shifted. Crystal tones from a singing bowl spread through the Hall. The oboe sang plaintively. Dissonant moans arose from the woodwinds. Here was sorrow so palpable it became smoke rising from an embittered battlefield. As chromatic notes built, the choir sang: "This Mary does not weep, she sees the future. No child of hers condemns the sun to creep around the earth." Kelly's score reached at times toward the spiritual profundity of Arvo Pärt, while carrying the chill of Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale."
The choir embodied Kelly's manifesto with classical purity: "…no choirs castrated, no congregations tithed, no people bound and silenced, and no false priests fellated." What a brilliant line that is. The audacity of rewriting a text that has anchored the Latin mass since Christianity's dawn is awe-inspiring. Kelly's own words raged and wept, etched with blade-like precision by the choir.
A devastating crescendo boiled and broke until, with the tolling of a bell, the mood softened: "the hand that stroked her new-born's cheek… now wields a sword." Time's up on the passive martyr at the cross's base. As this resolution rang through the Hall, the orchestra united with the singing bowl's tone. This Mary will stand no longer.
I haven't been so moved since Kelly's Requiem in 2023. We are fortunate to bear witness to the musical wealth that brings such performances into life. If you missed it, seek out the NZSO's next live performance at https://www.nzso.co.nz/ and stream this programme on an excellent sound system at https://www.nzso.co.nz/plus/videos/stabat-mater-livestream .
PHOTOS PHOEBE TUXFORD/NZSO