This is a particularly
generous Ancora+ release since the first
disc includes hitherto unrecorded works,
some of which are fairly recent. Three
of them were completed in 1997 whereas
a fourth, the Piano Quartet,
was composed in 2000. The works on Disc
2 were previously released on Collins
14532.
So, let us begin with
the works in Disc 1, the earliest of
which is Music for 247 Strings
of 1981. This is a short duo for violin
and piano (hence the 247 strings of
the title) consisting of ten tiny sections
played without a break in which violin
and piano unite, separate and unite
again. The Piano Concerto
of 1997 is scored for a small string
section (actually nine solo strings)
conducted from the keyboard, but may
be played with a larger body of players
with a conductor. The first movement
is somewhat weightier than the other
two, whereas the second, described as
a florid completion of a fragmentary
English folk song The Sweet Primroses
is primarily song-like in contrast
with a lively third movement rather
like a Scottish strathspey-and-reel.
This is quite typical of Weir’s shorter
works often displaying folk-like traits
or quoting folk songs, consciously or
not. This is one of the most endearing
qualities of Weir’s frequently attractive
music. The Piano Trio
is in three concise movements inspired,
so the composer tells us, by Venice
(first movement), Africa (second movement)
and the Western Hebrides (third movement),
although this does not really comes
through in the music, except perhaps
in the concluding movement. Judith Weir
never really forgets her Scottish roots.
Arise! Arise! for piano
quartet, written for the Schubert Ensemble,
is a short piece meant for amateur musicians
and is based on an English-American
folk song (Arise! Arise! You slumbering
sleepers). This delightful trifle
is over in less than three minutes!
The Piano Quartet is rather
more substantial, with a weighty first
movement and a, mostly slow, second
movement again based on a folk tune
from Louisiana Blanche comme la neige.
This is a very attractive piece of music
that communicates in straightforward
manner, partly because of the many folk-like
inflections in the music, but also through
its apparent simplicity.
Most works on Disc
2 also display a good deal of folk and
folk-like material, often based on actual,
though not necessarily British folk
songs. For example, the second movement
of the piano quintet I Broke Off
a Golden Branch obliquely refers
to a Croatian choral tune, whereas The
King of France and El
Rey de Francia are based on
the same Spanish-Arabic folk tune. The
lovely Distance and Enchantment
for piano quartet "explores a common
theme in British folklore; the phenomenon
of sudden disappearance" in two
movements based on a folk song from
Northern Ireland and another from Scotland.
Similarly, The Bagpiper’s String
Trio, described by the composer
as a short instrumental opera about
the life of James Reid, a bagpiper in
Bonny Prince Charlie’s army, is based
on ornamentations of Scottish bagpipe
music. In total contrast, The
Art of Touching the Keyboard,
a short single movement sonata, explores
the whole dynamic and expressive range
of the piano. Surprisingly enough, Ardnamurchan
Point for two pianos is an abstract
piece of music, although there is no
denying that the piece as a whole may
evoke the western Scottish seashore,
again with some reference to a Hebridean
melody. This is a fairly impressive
piece that deserves to be better known
and that should feature more often in
two-piano recitals. As already mentioned,
both El Rey de Francia
and The King of France
are based on the same Spanish-Arabic
tune. The former is a short tribute
to David Matthews on his fiftieth birthday.
It is in the form of a short, almost
minimalist loop, whereas the latter
is a rather more substantial set of
often virtuosic variations. It repays
repeated hearings.
Although she has composed
several substantial works so far, among
which her operas The Vanishing
Bridegroom, A Night at
the Chinese Opera (available
on NMC D060) and Blond Eckbert
(once available on Collins 14612, hopefully
to be re-issued soon), Judith Weir is
at her best in short, concise works
in which she resourcefully exploits
limited basic material in such a way
that the pieces never outstay their
welcome. Plenty of such works here.
All these performances
are really very fine and could not be
bettered. They serve Weir’s colourful
and engaging music well. This is a most
desirable release on all counts.
Hubert Culot