No, the heading is not a mistake and this is not an attack on tenors. Rather, I’m going to reflect on the phenomenon of the countertenor, the male voice that covers the alto/contralto range. First, a confession: I was an (almost teenage) countertenor, as I sang the part for several years in an English cathedral choir in my early twenties. My thanks and appreciation to Rebecca Caine, the soprano, who is experienced in both operatic and musical theatre traditions, for prompting this train of thought after she posted a humorous tweet about a newspaper story. An edited version of our exchange:
I read this as Counter Tenor! [Daily Telegraph headline] The British counter-terror programme that ‘fails to stop extremists’
I imagine my great countertenor [CT] hero James Bowman bewailing this with soul-searching phrases from Vivaldi [reference to the psalm setting Nisi Dominus]
Actually, the CT I saw in Death in Venice [Canadian Opera] recently changed my mind. Beautiful man, beautiful singing
So you were not keen on the CT concept before?
Possibly in the same way I used to not like trannies. Trying to be more of a woman than me. Now I like both
I sang CT for 2 years in cathedral choir in my twenties. For me, it was about developing hidden register of natural instrument
I’ve always wondered how men come across that register. Does one wake up one day and decide to give it a go? Choral tradition?
And, to borrow from Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City, that got me thinking. My first thought is to acknowledge the trauma of the breaking voice. I was a good treble, singing in a London parish church choir with a strong musical tradition and also the Westminster Abbey Special Choir. In those circumstances, you know it is inevitable that your voice will break and you know why, but nevertheless it is a loss that in some way has to be mourned and got through if you are a serious boy singer.
I moved from the front row to the back row and started singing tenor. Unlike in historic Vatican times, there was no suggestion of castration and continuing to sing in an upper register seemingly otherwise reserved for the female of the species. I was aware of the countertenor tradition, where men sing falsetto, for want of a better term, but my limited exposure to not the finest examples of it persuaded me that it was not a good idea.
That changed when I went to a Prom at the turn of the 1970s and heard James Bowman performing with, I think, Martyn Hill and David Munrow as “early music” enjoyed what can be appropriately termed its renaissance. There was a purity about the Bowman voice that was not feminine and was unsullied by the fruity or hooty tone that, to my ears, makes some countertenors sound very mezzo-soprano but in a bad way that evokes unfortunate visions of pantomime ugly sisters.
Some years later, as a postgraduate student in my early twenties, I inquired about joining the local cathedral choir and was asked by the choirmaster if I would be interested in singing countertenor. He gave me an audition and in his languid way said that I made some interesting noises. There was something of a crisis in that part of the choir as the ageing gents singing the part were sounding a little owl-like.
I lasted a couple of years before choosing to move on. There were many challenges: discovering and developing a voice that blended well with the rest of the choir; and, as an average sight reader, working through a vast repertoire that changed weekly on the basis of about two hours’ rehearsal for almost two hours’ performance. My main voice production issue was at the bottom of the register (around the F below middle C) where I struggled to produce a tone that compared with the top end (I could produce the top F two octaves higher fairly well). On the negative side, dark tales circulated of nodules developing on vocal cords after years of singing in this “unnatural way”.
I became very aware of the long tradition of countertenor singing, not least in England, and felt proud to be part of it: Henry Purcell was one name that loomed large, not least with Rejoice in the Lord Alway, and on one occasion I did manage to sing the Orlando Gibbons verse anthem This is the Record of John. I have not sung for many years but it was good while it lasted.
I do not think that singing countertenor is de facto effeminate or gay, although it can be perceived or misunderstood that way: hence the gibes about Alfred Deller, who did most to resurrect countertenor singing in the mid-20th century in England, in the Canterbury and St Paul’s cathedral choirs, as being a bearded lady. Deller is reported to have been asked by an enthusiastic Frenchwoman after a concert: “You are eunuch, no?” He replied: “I think you mean unique, madame.”
I have heard Bowman sing in the past couple of years and, even in his sixties, still find his voice to be extraordinarily moving and musical.
There is also a whole area to explore in pop and rock of the high-register male. Two examples that come to mind in England are Jimmy Somerville and Jon Anderson; and not least there is Sylvester on the US disco scene. There are many more. I’ll finish for now by wondering if the predominantly church countertenor tradition is one of the influences on these other genres.
PS Credit where it’s due: Rebecca Caine’s website is http://www.rebeccacaine.com/
mlksounds 