Yet a certain nervousness projected by their unaccompanied quartet seemed to increase the explosive impact of the chorus that followed.
There were, however, moments of unalloyed pleasure such as soprano Madison Nonoa’s triumphant top Cs after floating lyrically over the choir in the Inflammatus, or her joining mezzo Anna Pierard in the sweetest of harmonies.
Arias by both tenor Filipe Manu and Australian bass Jeremy Kleeman needed more projection to resound as they should.
The pride of both choir and orchestra was palpable when they gave us Kelly’s Stabat Mater, a 17-minute setting of her own secular text, celebrating “Mary’s power: feminine power and maternal power”.
Kelly wields a potent and evocative palette, opening with a karanga-like combination of singing bowl, oboe and bowed vibraphone; elsewhere, delicate harp notes register with the utmost clarity between sumptuous Panavision climaxes.
Yet underlying Kelly’s rich and referential choral style – she cites a host of influences – her text is brilliantly conveyed.
Here is a composer who knows the almost visceral effect of a shift from minor to major and the strange beauty of traditional harmonies subtly impinged upon by layers of dissonance, a symbol for our troubled times if ever there was.