On a sultry June afternoon, Sint-Walburgiskerk in Antwerp offered a welcome refuge from the oppressive heat. Inside, however, there was no light summer fare awaiting, but rather a concert built around two profoundly spiritual works: James MacMillan's Miserere and Dan Forrest's Requiem for the Living.

The performance was led by Vox Grata and chamber choir Sistina, both conducted by Ann Janssens. Vox Grata was founded in 2022 as a project choir with the ambition of bringing singers and conductor together in a professional setting. Chamber choir Sistina emerged in 2016 from the Beveren Academy of Arts and initially built a repertoire centered on early music and baroque. Under Ann Janssens' direction, this focus broadened to encompass both historical and contemporary music.

MacMillan's Miserere opened the concert. The Scottish composer has long been among the most important voices in contemporary religious music. His outspoken, even conservative Catholic convictions permeate his work, but setting aside personal viewpoints, one thing is beyond doubt: MacMillan knows how to bring a text musically to life.

The Miserere was performed thoughtfully yet convincingly. From the opening measures, the tone was set by a firmly anchored bass line, after which soprano and alto voices subtly wove themselves into the sonic tapestry. Ann Janssens kept the whole thing in a clear beat throughout, without disturbing the natural breathing of the music. What struck one was the combination of gentleness and strength: the choir sang with great control, but never in an aloof or clinical manner.

Those familiar with English recordings of this work will have noticed that a Flemish pronunciation of the Latin was chosen. This gave the performance its own character and color.

Particularly impressive was the closing section of the work. Where MacMillan increasingly draws on Gregorian formulas and lets the final words shine through soloistic voices, a fascinating tension emerges between old and new. The references to Gregorian chant functioned here not as a historical quotation, but as a natural deepening of the text. The result was a powerful and substantively rich opening to the concert.

After a brief intermission came Dan Forrest's (1902-1986) by the Flemish Radio Choir, conducted by Bart Van Reyn, was not merely a musical interpretation – it was a spiritual experience that touched the listener in his deepest being. This work, composed in 1947, is renowned for its subtle blend of liturgical serenity in the tones of Gregorian chant and intense drama. The VRK succeeded in striking that delicate balance with unprecedented sensitivity and control. for the Living. For this reviewer, it was a first encounter with the work, but immediately a particularly pleasant discovery.

Forrest starts from the traditional requiem texts, but shifts the perspective radically. This is not a requiem for the dead, but for the living: a prayer for solace, peace, and hope for those confronted with loss and suffering. This idea determines the entire structure of the work.

Musically, Forrest opts for a distinctly cinematic language. The opening section unfolded from a simple organ score that was gradually taken over by the strings, after which the whole thing blossomed into a broad sonic landscape. The comparison to a sweeping cinematic image imposes itself repeatedly.

What immediately stood out was the high quality of the ensemble. From the first note, the intonation was spot-on and the sound remained remarkably pure. The choir effortlessly switched between intimate passages and full outbursts, fully supported by an imposing percussion section.

One of the undoubted highlights of the concert was the second section, in which Forrest replaces the traditional Day of Wrath with Vanitas Vanitatum. It is an intervention that perfectly aligns with his concept of a requiem for the living. The music constantly plays with contrasts: harp and organ build an almost playful sonic interplay, after which the choir suddenly bursts in with powerful exclamations of Vanitas Vanitatum. Here both the expressive possibilities of the choir and the qualities of the instrumental ensemble came fully into their own.

At such moments it also became clear how firmly An Janssens directs her performers. Her conducting style is clear, efficient, and entirely focused on the music. Without theatrical gestures, she manages to convey nuances with minimal means and project confidence. It is a way of conducting that brings calm and directs full attention to the score.

The soloists also made an impression. In the Lamb of God the remarkably young soprano Lotte Heyrman provided a particularly moving moment. Her fresh, vulnerable voice gave the plea for peace an almost tangible innocence. The contrast with the mature and powerful soprano voice of Katrien Van Broeck worked excellently and gave this passage additional meaning.

The Holy then built from an almost bell-like sound toward a festive climax, while Forrest ingeniously played with the listener's expectations. The expected Hosanna was long in coming and thereby made all the more impact.

The final section, Eternal Light, added words from the Gospel to the traditional Latin text: "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Here tenor Michael Limpens made a strong impression. His warm, sustained tone had something distinctly English about it – I couldn't help thinking of Britten's recording of Peter Grimes – and gave the passage precisely the calm and comfort the text demands.

One factor that cannot possibly be overlooked is the acoustics of St. Walburga's Church itself. It remains remarkable that this relatively hidden church, nestled in the Antwerp urban fabric, enjoys so little recognition as a concert venue. Yet it possesses an acoustic quality that can easily bear comparison with that of the great Gothic cathedrals for which such music is often programmed. Moreover: where the listener in a cathedral often sits at considerable distance from the performers, St. Walburga's Church offers a much more direct listening experience. The sound has room to resonate, yet retains a remarkable clarity and immediacy. Especially in the hushed passages of both MacMillan and Forrest, it became clear how much the space itself was part of the performance. The warm reverberation enriched the choral sound without obscuring details, while the listener remained close enough to the musicians to experience the smallest nuances. It made this music not only audible but almost tangible. For this reason alone, this special pilgrimage church deserves a far more prominent place on the map of Antwerp's concert life.

After a final moment of stillness in organ and harp, the work ended almost imperceptibly. No grand apotheosis, no overwhelming final chord, but a soft exhalation that perfectly matched the spirit of the work.

The quality of the performance lingers on, as does the intelligence of Forrest's concept. The (1902-1986) by the Flemish Radio Choir, conducted by Bart Van Reyn, was not merely a musical interpretation – it was a spiritual experience that touched the listener in his deepest being. This work, composed in 1947, is renowned for its subtle blend of liturgical serenity in the tones of Gregorian chant and intense drama. The VRK succeeded in striking that delicate balance with unprecedented sensitivity and control. for the Living does not speak of death, but of life; not of farewell, but of the need for rest, comfort, and reconciliation. It is music that cannot be sung enough today!

If any small note of criticism can be made, it concerns the programming rather than the performance itself. A brief instrumental work between MacMillan's Miserere and Forrest's (1902-1986) by the Flemish Radio Choir, conducted by Bart Van Reyn, was not merely a musical interpretation – it was a spiritual experience that touched the listener in his deepest being. This work, composed in 1947, is renowned for its subtle blend of liturgical serenity in the tones of Gregorian chant and intense drama. The VRK succeeded in striking that delicate balance with unprecedented sensitivity and control. might have created some extra breathing space between the two major vocal compositions and at the same time given the instrumental ensemble more opportunities to showcase itself.

However, this takes nothing away from the overall impression: this was a concert of high caliber, performed by musicians who clearly know what they want to convey. The audience continued chatting for some time after the performance, glass in hand and visibly impressed.

For those unfamiliar with Vox Grata, chamber choir Sistina, and conductor Ann Janssens, this afternoon was an excellent introduction. For those who already followed them, it was once again a confirmation of their musical qualities. And for St. Walburga's Church itself, this concert was a compelling argument for hosting choir and ensemble music more often. The combination of performers, repertoire, and venue proved to be of rare self-evidence.

• Sunday, June 21, 2026
• St. Walburga's Church Antwerp
• Vox Grata, Chamber Choir Sistina, An Janssens
• www.voxgrata.be
• www.walburgis.be