This
is another very desirable release in NMC’s excellent Ancora series,
which aims to restore deleted recordings back to circulation –
for good. This is great news for collectors, of course, and when
the music is as richly inventive and memorable as here, then one
hopes for success and a whole new public for the disc.
I
have long admired the orchestral works of John Casken, and indeed
studied briefly with him during his short stay as Composition
Fellow at Huddersfield University. It was obvious then that he
had a real flair for orchestral sonority and brilliance of texture,
due in no small way to his extended period of study with Lutosławski
in Poland. But Casken has always been his own man, and one looks
in vain for too many obvious influences. It is best, instead,
to enjoy the rich palette of sounds he conjures up from conventional
forces, where sheer communication and feeling, without any cheap
‘selling out’ to the masses, seems paramount. In this sense he
is in a strong line of younger British composers such as Saxton,
Knussen and Bainbridge. I think Richard Steinitz admirably summed
up Casken’s style as ‘a fusion of the lyrical and dynamic…he writes
attractive melodies, but in lines which are so muscular, lithe
and intriguing that one wants instantly to hear them again’. The
works on this disc fall absolutely into this category.
Keen
followers of modern British music may well know some of these
pieces, all of which appeared on the Collins label, and possibly
the most popular has been the Cello Concerto. This marvellous
work was commissioned, premiered and regularly championed by Heinrich
Schiff, and though other cellists have played it, this strikes
me as being as definitive a reading as we are likely to get. Casken
skilfully exploits all the best characteristics of the instrument,
particularly the dark sonorities and ability to create a singing
cantabile line. He talks in the liner note about his approach
to writing for solo instrument and orchestra as ‘that of setting
an individual figure in particular place or landscape’. He provides
a five line Haiku-style poem to define this landscape, and the
cello opens the work by literally ‘singing’ the five lines of
the poem. The individual lines are then quoted for each section
of the piece, and material from the opening is developed and woven
throughout the structure. The end result is a work of great power
and movement, with moments of lyrical repose contrasting with
sections of rugged grandeur, really in the best traditions of
a cello concerto. Schiff asked that the work be written in such
a way that the soloist can conduct, a challenging task for the
composer. Such is the magnetism of this performance, one is certainly
never aware of any technical shortcomings, and there is a freedom
and spontaneity to the playing (including the orchestra) that
captures the listener from first to last.
The
longest work on the disc is Vaganza, (as in extravaganza)
a ‘serious entertainment in six movements for large mixed ensemble
and chamber organ’. Casken is at pains to point out that this
is not an organ concerto, though the organ does contribute significantly
to the texture at key moments. Coming from the mid-80s, the first
impressions are that this may well be the most determinedly ‘modern’
piece here, and that is not meant to be detrimental. The instruments
are used with enormous skill and ingenuity to create a kaleidoscope
of colour and energy – one could easily imagine this being choreographed.
Any piece of this character and employing titles like ‘Archaic
dance’, ‘Puppets’ and ‘Parade’ is bound to invite comparison with
famous forerunners, and I’m sure that allusions to Petrushka
are almost intentional, or at least buried in the composer’s subconscious.
The sheer virtuosity of the writing has to be admired and once
again, even in the thorniest of textures, there is the feeling
that the music has the sort of earthy vitality that is not easily
forgotten.
The
next most substantial piece here is Darting the Skiff,
which is also the most recent of the works here. This is in itself
interesting, as the listener is even more aware of that need to
communicate growing stronger. The piece, for string orchestra,
was again written for the Northern Sinfonia and was conceived
in an idyllic studio retreat overlooking Lake Como in Italy. That
the piece celebrates water, its movement, colour and ever-changing
imagery, is obvious from the start, where the high strings jump
out at the listener in a brilliant, almost improvisatory way.
Casken splits his strings up in such a way as to make it sound
like a much bigger orchestra and the variety, range and contrast
once again holds the listener in its grip. This 18-minute work
strikes me as being in a long line of great British string works,
and fully up to its exalted company.
The
short, intense fantasy entitled Maharal Dreaming is based
on material from Casken’s first opera Golem, one of his
most successful works. He admits it is very much a ‘free fantasy’,
using some musical ideas from the opera as well as new material.
Thus it can be appreciated separately from the opera, or heard
almost as an introduction to it. Its atmosphere of brooding and
foreboding reflect what the composer calls ‘some of the dreams
the Maharal might have had before he took the momentous step to
create the man of clay’. The use of orchestral sonority here is
masterly, showing a composer fully in command of his resources.
The large range of percussion in particularly is used with great
subtlety, and the ending is both memorable and uncomfortable,
as if bigger questions are being asked to which there is no easy
response.
This
well-filled disc deserves success. It is the perfect way to get
to know some truly inventive and stimulating music by one of our
most important contemporary composers. Sound quality is superb,
and the notes succinct, readable and, of course, authoritative.
It should be snapped up by anyone who cares about the modern British
music scene.
Tony
Haywood