While these CDs are
available separately I have chosen to
review them together, as potential purchasers
can get a discount when ordering both
from the London Sinfonietta website
. I’m not sure which marketing genius
came up with the idea of issuing them
separately in the first place – maybe
we’re still not grown up enough to take
a full seventy minutes of brand new
music one disc. Whatever, the music
presented here is not particularly ‘difficult’
as one might expect in this post-post-post-modern
age of fun and (con)fusion. It will
be a challenge to the uninitiated however,
and often such work is better experienced
live, with the spectacle of exotic instruments,
mobile musicians and on (or off)-stage
action in contemporary music concerts.
These CDs won’t appeal to everyone,
but then, neither does Beethoven - whom
my mother doesn’t like ‘shouting’ at
her.
Tansy
Davies’ neon is an enjoyably
rhythmic romp. The composer’s notes
state that it consists of boxes containing
a ‘pattern or groove: some bright and
shiny, others dark and grimy.’ These
boxes can be put together in numerous
ways, and the result is elemental and
dance-like. The percussion is important
of course, but I like the pairings of
instruments and sparely minimalistic
cycles of melodic development - if you
can call it that – there are no ‘tunes’
as such.
Less immediately appealing
is Interact by Stuart
MacRae, which is a trumpet concerto.
In two movements, the first is described
as being a kind of ‘game’ – something
which always makes me suspicious, but
in fact the ensemble’s brass players
have to move around the stage in a carefully
constructed choreography, so the connection
with the title is apt and clear, though
less so on a CD than in a live performance.
The impression is one of angular jousting
between the soloist and ensemble - atonal
melodic meandering with one or two very
Andriessen -sounding chords thrown in.
The second movement is slower, ‘a measured
sequence of friezes’ linked by a melodic
thread. I can see where the composer
is coming from, and possibly where he
might end up, but aside from some energetic
Berio-esque rhythmic tumbling, some
Kagel-esque brass duelling and some
atmospheric moments here and there I’m
afraid this piece does very little for
me.
Moving on to the second
CD we start with Dark Room by
Morgan
Hayes, which is a ‘mini clarinet
concerto’. The piece is intense and
gritty, with extremes of range, jazzy
pizzicato bass, rattlesnake percussion
and a soaring solo. There is a great
deal going on here, and the final section,
in which the soloist leaves the stage
- accompanied by the oboe - left me
wanting more.
Jonny
Greenwood’s smear has
the interesting colouration of two Ondes
Martenots, whose ghostly appearance
at the opening of the piece dismisses
the ghost of Messiaen in an instant.
The composer is passionate about these
rarely heard instruments, and uses them
to great effect. The mellow electronic
notes initially glide thought the ensemble
expressively, emerging into playful
cadenza which fully explores the dynamic
range of the instruments. The final
section is more impressionistic, and
the ghost of Messiaen gets to peek around
the corner after all. Expressive glissandi,
leaning quarter-tones and rich string
chords play us out - lovely stuff, though
I do wonder what Radiohead fans will
make of it - Greenwood is a founding
member of the band.
Fifth Station by
Dai
Fujikura has a spatial aspect,
with only two instruments on the stage
– the rest of the players being placed
in the auditorium. The aspect of hearing
different versions of the piece depending
on where you sit in the hall is one
which the composer enjoys greatly, so
with this recording you are of course
only getting one ‘take’. The person
who was sitting next to the trombone
will have a different experience - and
opinion - to the one sitting next to
(say) the bass clarinet. There is an
important and impressive part for the
solo cello, and there is also a great
deal of colourful instrumental interaction
and shifts in perspective, with the
sense of distance between players giving
some strange and interesting effects.
It almost goes without
saying that the London Sinfonietta’s
performances are outstanding, and that
the BBC recordings are first class.
There are one or two occasional consumptives
in the audience, but nothing which will
have hardened listeners running for
cover. Each piece has a freshly-minted
quality, and for those of you who want
to be up-to-date with recent compositional
work these issues are a must.
Dominy Clements
John Wallace (trumpet) 
