It appears to have
been Austrian émigré composer
Hans Gal who lit upon the ingenious
combination duo of mandolin and harp
for his Divertimento Op.80, written
in 1968 … the year I met him. When these
two players, Trinity College of Music
students when they got together in 1991,
came to play the work they realised
the potential for such a partnership
and began commissioning works so that
they could thoroughly explore the colours,
textures and sounds which both instruments
produced in tandem. The result is a
highly attractive disc, for both are
masters of their instruments, playing
with imaginative flair and technical
skill. The music is distinguished, especially
David Sutton-Anderson’s eight Mandalas,
which fully explore both instruments’
more exotic qualities (a Mandala is
a Buddhist image, usually of a deity)
with more than enough variety and musical
shape to sustain interest. Bill Connor’s
Krug is thought-provoking and
its message threateningly gloomy, yet
full of vividly striking (literally)
effects. Julian Dawes provides three
brief movements of highly accessible
music, including a charming Waltz, while
Julian Mitchell-Davison’s substantive
four-movement contribution is based
on The Saxon Tapestry by Sile
Rice. The music is evocative, almost
a sound-track to the poetic imagery
of the book, particularly the beautifully
haunting melody of The Harvest of
the Quiet Eye. A mandolinist himself,
Mitchell-Davison challenges Alison Stephens
with all sorts of virtuosic hurdles,
‘chords using extended fingering, voicings
using unusual combinations of stopped
and open strings, fourth string glissandi,
fast arpeggios and string skipping’.
Needless to say she meets them head
on and with consummate ease. Most striking
of all is the eerie presence of Chopin
in Joy of Wild Asses, a processional
theme on the harp (Jesus rode such an
animal on his last journey into Jerusalem)
accompanied on the mandolin by a bizarrely
skittering atonal obbligato.
Rhythmic energy and vibrant effects
demanded of both instruments dominate
the final track, an exciting movement
called A Full Moon Rising Red.
Tapestry makes a fine conclusion
to a fine disc, which I recommend most
highly. Now one awaits further exploration
of and by this combination, perhaps
next time securing commissions from
women composers.
Christopher Fifield