No easy listening here, 
                but there are many rewards for the brave. 
                Philip Howard is a young pianist (he 
                was born in 1976) who is himself a composer. 
                He won the BBC Young Musician of the 
                Year Composer Award at the age of 15. 
                He seems to be a staunch advocate of 
                the more hard-hitting face of modernism, 
                as well as being pretty fearless, if 
                this repertoire is anything to go by. 
              
 
              
The mix of young and 
                more established composers is a fruitful 
                one. The programme starts with a piece 
                by Northern Irish composer Paul Whitty, 
                a name new to me. Unfortunately no biographical 
                material on Whitty, or any of the other 
                composers on the disc, is provided 
                (try http://www.composer.co.uk/composers/whitty.html 
                for a fuller picture). 
                Together with another featured composer 
                on this disc, Paul Newland, Whitty is 
                a founding member of Ensemble [rout]. 
                The disc, indeed, takes its title from 
                Whitty’s piece, which focuses on the 
                idea of the skin holding secret information 
                about ourselves. This is translated 
                into musical terms by having tiny cells 
                of notes ‘all colliding, contracting 
                and expanding in high-energy bursts 
                of information relayed with frantic 
                intensity’, as Howard puts it in his 
                accompanying commentary. It is certainly 
                hectic (Track 1), with a moment of repose 
                which reveals ‘the ever-present background 
                to all music: silence’. Max Wilson’s 
                Zeitlin [on] of 1988 takes the 
                jazz of Denny Zeitlin as its starting 
                point (Zeitlin, as a by-the-way, provided 
                the music for the 1978 remake of the 
                film Invasion of the Body Snatchers). 
                Zeitlin [on] even includes an 
                allusion to Zeitlin’s take on Round 
                Midnight. There is an obvious jazz 
                influence, but Wilson manages to speak 
                with his own voice that seems to emanate 
                more from the sphere of ‘Classical’ 
                contemporary music (Track 2). 
              
 
              
The fiendish, individual 
                music of the great and sadly missed 
                composer Iannis Xenakis is captured 
                here in an account of the 1973 piece, 
                Evryali. Evryali was one of the 
                three Gorgons of Greek mythology (the 
                others being Stheno and the much more 
                famous Medusa), whose hair was comprised 
                of serpents. Xenakis’s piece oozes energy 
                and it is a pity that Howard misses 
                out on the purely elemental side of 
                this piece. A shame, as this is the 
                stuff of legends and, indeed, nightmares, 
                in its horrific imagery. Claude Helffer 
                has made something of a speciality out 
                of Xenakis’s piano music and his version 
                on Montaigne MO782137 is ultimately 
                to be preferred. 
              
 
              
Paul Newland (http://www.bmic.co.uk/Composers/cv_details.asp?ComposerID=1546) 
                has stated that ‘simplicity allows the 
                mind freedom to imagine’. Single, violent 
                notes stab their way out of a pristinely 
                beautiful pianissimo bed of sounds 
                and punctuating silence. The work was 
                composed in Hiroshima and the composer 
                quotes haiku on the score – their enigmatic 
                aspect suits Newland’s music perfectly. 
              
 
              
The disc finishes with 
                two works by established composers, 
                Michael Finnissy and Morton Feldman, 
                each of which is fairly extended. Finnissy’s 
                Eadweard Muybridge-Edvard Munch 
                of 1997 is very, very sparse music (Track 
                5). Muybridge was a photographer who 
                experimented with successions of images 
                of objects in motion (horses, wrestlers, 
                etc); the Munch reference is to a disturbing 
                series of photos that artist made between 
                1902 and 1908. Thanks to companies like 
                Metier and NMC, Finnissy enjoys a fairly 
                large discography at present, and Eadweard 
                Muybridge-Edvard Munch is a welcome 
                addition. There are more explosive moments 
                (around eight minutes in, for example) 
                and here, once again, perhaps Howard 
                could have been even more frenetic in 
                realising these outbursts. 
              
 
              
The disc ends with 
                Feldman’s very last piano piece, Palais 
                de Mari. The title refers to archaeological 
                discoveries around the ancient city 
                of Mari in what is now Syria. The work 
                contains shifting repetitions that inspire 
                Howard in his booklet notes to wax lyrical 
                on the concept of time and memory. Howard 
                has all the qualities of intense concentration 
                to bring the work off – and listen to 
                the stunning way he projects the music 
                around the seven minute mark as being 
                as delicate as porcelain. This is truly 
                meditative music that is ultimately 
                uplifting and refreshing. 
              
 
              
Highly recommended, 
                but bear in mind it is no easy ride. 
              
 
              
Colin Clarke