Elis Pehkonen was born in Norfolk in 1942 but though British,
he is, as his name suggests, of Finnish extraction. In 1960 he
won
a composition scholarship to the RCM and studied there with Peter
Racine Fricker. His first commission came six years later -
Everyman for
the King’s Lynn Festival - and his first broadcast work
was in 1968. For over twenty years he taught at Cirencester School.
He has now composed over one hundred and fifty pieces, and many
are major choral ones. This review traces three CDs of his music.
The
Russian Requiem (1967) was influenced by the events
of the 1917 Revolution. He employs Old Russian Chant and his
string writing is powerful. In the
Dies Irae the writing
reaches a concentrated core of intensity after the solo; maybe
Shostakovich is an influence. In terms of texts he has not used
the full
Missa Pro Defunctis but has incorporated writings
from a range of sources - Dante, Pasternak, Lenin and
The
Revelation of St John the Divine. To heighten texts he employs
evocative brass fanfares. In the
Agnus Dei the writing
is limpid and consoling, ending a powerful work in beneficent
gentleness and reflection. The companion work here is
Four
Russian Songs of 1979. They range from the melancholy of
In
the Window to the folkloric sparkle of
The Young Girl
Was Married Off, where the glistening piano commentary is
harp-like. The succeeding song is delightfully full of verve
whilst the wordless melancholia of
By the Seashore and
its associated fulsome piano writing is magnetically Russian.
The two-part
The Alabaster Box opens the next CD under
discussion. For soprano and harp this is a subtle, reflective,
refractive work, the second part of which is less clotted and
introspective. Here too there is a bardic quality to the writing,
in the harp runs, that resurfaces in several of Pehkonen’s
works.
Romance de la Pena Negra sets one of Lorca’s
most celebrated poems and possibly acknowledges de Falla. It
certainly fuses the folkloric with more studied classical writing
to good effect. The violin and guitar offer the most obvious
folk timbres in support of the soprano. There is torrid expression
here but one that ends in a soaring purificatory ending, the
piano and guitar in rippling, river-exuding support. Deft writing
informs
Philomel; programmatic, lyrical, variational.
A warmly sculpted work it oozes narrative particularity and assured
control of metre; all swallow swoop and songs of the night. Finally
The
Blizzard and the Dark, five songs that open with piano chimes
at midnight and embrace soaring vocal lines, bittersweet effusion,
and the strenuous and striving. The poems are by the dissident
Russian poet Natalya Gorbanyevskaya.
The last of the CDs takes in song and sonata. There’s the
quiet rapture and longing of the title track,
Turning World, set
to the composer’s own text, as well as the sinewy bardic
strains and increasingly vibrant folkloric accelerando of
Tara’s
Harp. The next song,
Hymn to the Sun, is beautifully
controlled; very precise but not seeming too controlled, and
its sound world is evocatively traced and laced with birdsong.
The Greek-inspired
Irinna’s Song is a touch long
but again eloquent. This is a splendid set of songs. The
Travel
Sonata for violin and piano is wittily named, dashing us
about from Scots-Irishry to Francophile scherzo brevity, thence
via a lyric love song to an exciting and vital finale. The
Mountain
Sketches are craggy; slow chordal drift points up their immensity
and fixity.
Moon over Suilven assuredly shows the still
majesty of the scene.
Over the Water is the third movement
of the Concerto for Recorder and Strings - it’s very wistful
- whereas
The Candle Burned is the
Agnus Dei from
the
Russian Requiem in the same performance as the one
noted above.
His interpreters serve him with great sensitivity and control
and the recordings are never less than perfectly serviceable,
and often much more. Texts are included and there are attractive
booklets.
Pehkonen’s music is tonal, lyric, melancholic, bardic and
more besides. He has a poet’s ear for the stress and fall
of texts, and his songs are invariably worth hearing. In larger
scale works his ear doesn’t falter, in smaller ones he
reaches out for folk influences.
Jonathan Woolf