A whole evening of music for two violins is
a fairly daunting thought, especially for
non-violinists. All credit, then, to Peter
Sheppard Skærved and Philippa Mo for
providing a well-contrasted programme that
seemed thought provoking and exciting in equal
measure.
The
first point to note is that the work by Ysaÿe
was a British première. Written in
1915, the Great War obviously acted as something
of a catalyst for inspiration for the composer,
particularly in the folksy finale where there
is a fluency of thought coupled with a real
immediacy of emotive intent. The Franckian,
descending lines made a real impression. The
Bachian Lento that started the work too is
an impressive statement.
The
acoustic of the concert room at Leighton House
did not help, however. Anyone who thought
(as, I must confess, did) that this was going
to be tame stuff and easy on the ear (in decibel
terms) was to be proved well and truly wrong:
the volume was remarkably loud on occasion.
But what proved interesting in performance
terms were the differences between the two
players. Philippa Mo has a lovely warm sound
in the lower register that can turn remarkably
dark; she possesses a silky-smooth legato.
Sheppard Skærved is shriller of tone,
a player of remarkable confidence who sometimes
does get rather carried away.
One
of two World Premieres in this programme followed
next: John McCabe’s Spielend (2003
in McCabe’s own notes; 2004 in the programme
running-order). This is playing in the sense
of sport as well as instrumental performance,
in a work whose slow middle section includes
an intense fugue. It lasts around a quarter
of an hour, according to the programme notes
(12 minutes here). For all its skill and wide
frame of reference (not only fugue, but reminiscences
of Poulenc’s Violin Sonata, plus some fairly
minimalist gestures to kick off with), it
is not a work that will remain in the memory
for long.
Book
4 of Bartók’s Duos (1931) provided
marvellously varied terrain, all imbued with
this composer’s individual stamp. This is
exactly the repertoire Sheppard Skærved
and Mo excel in, be it the poignant clashes
of the Praeludium or the earthy dance numbers.
If
there was a link between the Bartók
and the Harrison it came in the infectious
nature of the dance references. Sadie Harrison’s
works have impressed before, both in the extended
Light
Garden Trilogy and in the set of solo
piano pieces impresa
amorosa. Harrison seems to take much
inspiration from the more mystical side of
her reading, and the performance was accompanied
by a quotation from ‘The Magus or Celestial
Intelligencer’ by Francis Barrett (1801) which
refers to the twenty eight Mansions of the
moon. The present work, The Vision of Anne
Catherine Emmerick, in fact comes from
a larger piece entitled ... under the circle
of the Moon .. . Interestingly, the title
spells the surname ‘Emmerick’, the first movement
(which is of the same title) ‘Emmerich’ (not
necessarily a typo as it may be an alternative
spelling). The third movement is a Western
interpretation of Eastern thought (‘Brahmin’s
Angels .. Indra’s thunderbolt .. Vaivasvata’s
Ark’ - a similar meeting of East and West
is encountered in Harrison’s Light Garden
Trilogy). The last movement, ‘The Curse
with Turtledoves’ seems to confirm the essentially
lyrical basis of Harrison’s thought; the third
movement (‘Brahma’s Angels’) refers to the
dance (and thus brought about the Bartok link
mentioned above).
Its
seven aphoristic movements explore in masterly
fashion a world of half-lights and references
(including pastiche). More of this composer
needs to make it to disc so that more considered
appreciation of her scores is possible for
the general listener.
Finally,
Alan Rawsthorne’s Theme and Variations
(1918) began in capricious vein (quite a contrast).
The sixth variation, ‘Notturno’, impressed
most, with its background of quiet trills
and its sure use of the drama that silence
can afford in a live situation. Perhaps not
as memorable as the Harrison, but a fine way
to conclude the programme nonetheless. Two
Dances by David Matthews, ‘Pastorale’ and
‘Contra-Pastorale’ (or ‘Nice and Nasty’ as
Sheppard Skærved put it) rounded things
off nicely (David Matthews is a fine composer
whose music deserves more exposure, I always
think).
Colin
Clarke