The ink of Anne Ozorio’s
                    excellent review of the all-Anderson Ondine release (ODE
                    1012-2 - see review) is hardly dry; and, lo! here comes another
              generously filled disc entirely devoted to Anderson’s recent music.
                    It thus considerably broadens ones appreciation of this still-young
                    composer’s substantial achievement. Indeed, all the works
                    here were written when Anderson was Composer-in-Association
                    to the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra between 2001
                    and 2005. Significantly, too, they were composed not only
                    for the Birmingham orchestra, but also for its satellites,
                    the CBSO Chorus and the BCMG.
                
                 
                
                
                In
                    its aims and means, Imagin’d Corners for five
                    horns and orchestra has much in common with Turnage’s Four-Horned
                    Fandango, although the latter is lighter in mood.
                    Four of the five soloists move around the audience and the
                    orchestra, so that the overall perspective is constantly
                    changing. The various facets of the horns’ register greatly
                    add to the ever-changing whole, to great colouristic and
                    expressive effect. Consciously or not, Anderson also seems
                    to pay tribute to Tippett, something that I also heard in
                    some of the other pieces here.
                
                 
                
                    Eden opens with an arresting gesture: a slow melody passed between solo
                    viola and solo cello, playing without vibrato, evoking the
                    sound of Renaissance viols. The orchestra soon takes over
                    with powerfully evocative bell-like phrases; but the viola
                    and cello music of the opening keeps reappearing at various
                    stages, albeit with variations. However, the global impression
                    is festive, brightly optimistic, although the music eventually
                    fades away calmly.
                
                 
                
                    Four
                        American Choruses sets
                        gospel hymn texts; but one should not expect a comparatively
                        light-hearted treatment in the vein of Tippett’s Five
                        Negro Spirituals. Anderson sets the texts in
                        his own personal, intensely serious way without using,
                        let alone alluding to, existing hymn tunes; far from
                        it. The music is complex, exacting and clearly tailored
                        to the skills of a crack ensemble. The CBSO Chorus rise
                        magnificently to the occasion; and their thoroughly drilled,
                        clearly articulated and immaculate rendering is simply
                        stunning. For all its complexity the music is strongly
                        expressive; and I consider this marvellous work as one
                        of the finest – if not the finest – in this selection.
                
                 
                
                Anderson’s Symphony draws
                    on a painting by the Finnish artist and Sibelius’ friend
                    Akseli Gallen-Kallela who was much inspired by the Kalevala.
                    True the very opening of the work with its indeterminate
                    sounds almost graphically depicts pieces of ice drifting
                    on the water’s surface. However, as it unfolds, the music
                    continuously suggests what John Fallas aptly describes as
                    the “initial sense of movement-within-stasis”; and turns
                    out to be more closely argued and integrated than it might
                    have seemed at first. In fact, Anderson’s Symphony is a mighty
                    monolith blending tightly knit and powerfully evocative music.
                
                 
                
                The
                    title of Book of Hours for ensemble and electronics
                    refers to the famous Les très Riches Heures du
                    Duc de Berry and the La Dame à la Licorne tapestries,
                    although the music is by no means descriptive or programmatic.
                    The composer suggests that Part One is concerned with time
                    and Part Two with memory; and both are accordingly based
                    on much the same material, albeit viewed from different angles.
                    Part One opens with an utterly simple gesture: the first
                    four notes of the major scale - actually derived from a piano
                    piece Old Bells - continuously varied and expanded
                    again often suggesting bell-ringing. Part Two opens with
                    the same gesture, albeit completely blurred as if played
                    on an old crackling 78 rpm disc. The music builds up to a
                    climax that “pushes the music to breaking point” and explodes
                    in a furious electronic cadenza in which the argument seems
                    to disintegrate. The music, however, rests on a short dance-like
                    coda. In his excellent notes, John Fallas writes that the
                    second part is more continuous than the first. I do not entirely
                    agree and find that – for all its kaleidoscopic character – Part
                    One is on the whole much more satisfying. However, I readily
                    admit that repeated hearings may prove me wrong in this respect. Book
                    of Hours is an impressive and often beautiful piece,
                    although it is slightly disappointing. Maybe I was expecting
                    too much from a piece for ensemble and electronic, a medium
                    I am much attracted to. Indeed, electronics are used with
                    much discretion, taste and efficiency in Part One, but I
                    am less convinced by their use in Part Two. Anyway, this
                    is a substantial piece to which I will return.
                
                 
                
                A
                    splendid release on all counts: excellent performances, very
                    fine recording and detailed notes, and – most importantly – marvellous
                    music.
                
                 
                
                Anderson’s
                    music is contemporary music of the sort dear to me: complex
                    and demanding, but ultimately often beautiful and strongly
                    expressive. Not to be missed. 
                
                 
                    
                    Hubert Culot
                    
                    
                    see also review by Anne Ozorio
 
                
                
                
                
              
              
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