Rebecca SAUNDERS (b. 1967)
Still for Violin and Orchestra (2011) [17:36]
Aether for two bass clarinets (2015-2016) [27:45]
Alba for Trumpet Solo and Orchestra (2014) [21:29]
Carolin Widmann (violin)
Marco Blaauw (trumpet)
Carl Rosman, Richard Haynes (bass clarinets)
Symphonieorchester der Bayerischen Rundfunks/Ilan Volkov (Still), Peter Eövös (Alba)
rec. live, Herkulessaal der Residenz, Feb 20, 2015 (Alba), Dec 15, 2017
(Aether), Jan 19, 2018 (Still)
BR KLASSIK 900635 [66:50]
Rebecca Saunders, born in the UK, now lives and works in Germany. What may have driven her abroad is not only the teaching work but the prospect of finding a greater understanding and perhaps more opportunities in Europe. Her music may be challenging but there is much to get a handle on; the detailed and insightful booklet notes for this CD are great help.
It is quite the fashion now to have single-word titles. We begin with Still for Violin and Orchestra. It all started when the composer discovered for herself the sound of a double-stopped trill. On discussion with the violinist here, Carolin Widmann, Saunders immediately went to work. She sketched out all that she had learned to create a plan and the soundworld she wanted. The first part is a furioso. Her description of the work as “a massive mobile that remains untouched while being observed from different angles” becomes even clearer once we realise that it is the opening double-stopped trills that suffuse the entire texture of the work, and even fold into its other section at about half way. This she describes as “dark, fragile, warm” – but, it seems, never really Still. So why the title? Only at the end of the lengthy descriptive notes do we learn what underlies this violin concerto. It is Samuel Beckett’s short story entitled Still, which gives the atmosphere to the music. There are sounds in this work that seem to be from another planet. You may find them ugly at times but they also captivate.
In between the two concerti comes Aether. At first, I did not relish the opportunity to listen to an almost half-an-hour piece for two bass clarinets, surely a unique concept. We are offered various interpretations of the title in the booklet. The most helpful as regards the sounds encountered here may be the last: a “song (which) wafts across the radio”. Perhaps you might also find useful the words ‘glow’ and ‘burn’.
As I listened, I was drawn into a soundworld never quite encountered before. I found myself wondering if Saunders had been interested in, or stimulated by, electroacoustic music. I read that she was inspired by “sculptural and spatial properties in radically different architectural spaces”, and had been involved in creating an eighty-minute spatial installation in a French cathedral. The result is music which fills time and space with no development in the usual way, no climactic moment – although there are sudden changes of dynamic and abrupt dramatic moments – and no sense of rhythmic propulsion. The music just is. Why it ends when it does, I cannot say. Why it lasts twenty-eight minutes, I cannot say. I can say that the performance is truly astonishing, both in its endurance and in its singular requirements of virtuosity.
Samuel Becket also figures in Alba for Trumpet Solo and Orchestra (as does another concerto, Void for percussion duo). This time it is Beckett’s poem Alba. The booklet offers us some dictionary definitions of the word; ‘white’ and ‘ardent’ could well describe the central section of this remarkable work. By the same token, it becomes clear that this is an arch-shaped composition. The beginning emerges out of silence with trumpet trills and long slowly swelling pitches. The piece ends by unhurriedly vanishing like a fading wind, with sounds which could almost have been realised electronically. It is not surprising that we read immediately, on opening the booklet, of Saunders’s “distinctive sonic language”.
The performance of this work, and indeed of all three pieces, is quite astonishing. I have been writing music for half a century, I cannot fully apprehend how one might communicate with fellow musicians some of the sounds that Saunders requires, how she might have conceived them and then presented them on the page. Perhaps, one day, I might see a score, but even if I do, I suspect that it may well demonstrate the need for detailed interpretation and strong study. All the more remarkable is the thought that these pieces may well seem to foretell of a musical future which is quite different from the world even some of the most progressive of us could not possibly have conceived.
Gary Higginson
