Stephen Plews describes
The Future of an Illusion as “an existential biography
of an imaginary soul, from birth to death through a terminal
illness”. It is laid-out into three movements : Benign,
Malignant, The Possibility of Hope. The first
movement opens with a weary, repetitive gesture that never really
develops. It leads into a varied movement, in which some thematic
material attempts to assert itself but with little success.
The main mood of the whole movement is rather hesitant. Some
melodic flights manage to brighten the prevailing mood, albeit
episodically. There follows what may be regarded as the slow
movement. The mood here is of sorrow and sadness, and the music
“occasionally fades to almost nothing”. This movement is one
of the most moving musical elegies that I have ever heard. Although
it opens with some energy, the final movement fails to bring
complete solace – all fully in accordance with its title “The
Possibility of Hope”. Nevertheless this serves to relieve some
of the tension accumulated in the course of the preceding movements.
The composer’s rather factual notes do not entirely conceal
an intimate, personal concern. This substantial work, beautifully
scored for strings, is undoubtedly a deeply sincere utterance
that I find quite moving.
The rather sketchy
notes mention that Geoffrey Kimpton’s Concerto for Violin
and Chamber Orchestra was composed as
a tribute to Kathleen Raine. He had set some of her verse several
years earlier. The Concerto is based on one of Raine’s poems,
The Summit. The notes tell us that each of the five movements
has a title using words and phrases from the poem. Unfortunately,
neither the poem nor the title of the movements are printed
in the insert notes. Much is left to our imagination and the
music is left to be assessed for its intrinsic worth. In this
respect, Kimpton’s concerto is a quite attractive, beautifully
crafted piece, nicely contrasted and richly, yet often subtly
poetic. The scoring for small orchestra - actually a wind quintet
and a string quintet - is superbly done and quite imaginative,
albeit in a fairly traditional way, by 20th century
standards.
Kevin Malone (www.opusmalone.com) composed
two pieces inspired by the events of September 11, 2001: Vox
humana, Vox populi for bassoon and orchestra and Eighteen
Minutes for two double basses and strings, the latter
recorded here. The insert notes go into some detail about the
way the piece is structured. It is in eighteen sections divided
into six equal parts. In fact, the number 18 seems to play a
considerable role in the structure. Moreover some of the ‘thematic’
material is drawn from words and phrases from witnesses and
from radio broadcasters. “Most of the material directly follows
the actual speed and sound of the voices”. Don’t let all this
put any of you off. It is an impressive and entirely satisfying
work. Some of the music may be slightly minimalist, but rather
more like John Adams than Steve Reich. The composer brilliantly
succeeds in varying his textures and in having the music move
forward instead of simply repeating itself. I find this brilliantly
realised piece entirely successful. In its conception and duration,
it may seem less imposing than John Adams’ The Transmigration
of Souls, but it undoubtedly is far more impressive
in its relative concision. There are not that many concertos
for two double basses; I have just reviewed Haukur Tómasson’s
Skíma, another entirely satisfying concerto for
two double basses. This one should be avidly taken-up by imaginative
players looking for a worthy work for their instrument.
All performances are
as far as I can judge beautifully done. Certainly they seem strongly
committed and the recording is very fine. My sole complaint is
that the insert notes do not always tell you what you need. This
should not however deter anyone from investigating this unusual
but highly rewarding release.
Hubert Culot