I
often receive CDs of music by composers who are new names
to me. Some contain the most
exciting music, which hits me immediately, and about which
I enthuse. Occasionally I receive something which seems
to be below par, shall we say, music which doesn’t display
anything to which I can respond. Then there’s the rare
CD which contains music which I have to work at in order
to find the purpose of it. This CD falls into that latter
category.
I
immediately felt the urgency of Armstrong’s music, written
in rich, late-romantic, hues – big tunes, luscious orchestrations
and a delicate balance within the textures - but I failed
to find the way forwards; the impulse behind the notes.
However, after listening to this music four or five times
I can now see Armstrong’s purpose, the raison d’être - if you like - for its existence, its being.
For
a composer as young as Armstrong it’s good to find that
he is writing in a language to which the listening public
can respond. His work sounds like a more relaxed, less
dense, Ligeti – no micropolyphony here – and he can really
use the orchestra to full effect.
Immer, his first Violin Concerto, is
a good example of what I mean. It’s a long lament, the violin
soaring above the orchestral sonority, which is based on “slowly
changing clouds of sound” according to the composer. He has
created a dream–like atmosphere which engages the ear, and
the senses, with the most beguiling sounds and a wonder-filled
sense of logic in the construction of the music. Of course,
there’s no sense of the conflict which is the usual life
blood of the concerto form, instead Armstrong leads us
along a path where, instead of our being aware of the bravura
of the soloist in flashes of display, we can see and enjoy
the surrounding scenery as much as the singing of the soloist.
Clio Gould is a marvellous violinist, and here she plays
with such purity of tone and elegance of line that you
cannot fail to go with the flow of the music.
If I
am less satisfied with
One Minute it’s simply because
with 15 very short pieces, most of which are quite static,
there’s no real substance for the mind to relate to. But
yet, having written that, what this music does do is keep
you wondering what is going to happen next. It was created
to accompany a series of short films and this, surely,
fed into the musical thought.
Memory
Takes My Hand is a very large
song-cycle with words by Peter Arnott, celebrating the
composer’s home town of Glasgow. Starting with an imposing
Waltonian brass fanfare I was expecting some kind of
paean of praise to the Scottish city but what followed
was a collection of solos, choruses and orchestral movements
of varying dynamic. The first sung movement,
World,
begins with the most beautiful writing for flute and
piano, before the chorus enters in music of great seriousness,
to be joined by a stratospheric soprano line. This is
fine stuff indeed. The atmosphere, so well built, continues
through the next few movements – Armstrong is very good
on atmosphere – and one is reminded of passages in Gorecki’s
3rd Symphony,
so intense is the language. However, atmosphere isn’t
enough to carry a work of over half an hour’s playing
time, and by the 7
th movement I’d lost interest,
especially as I was starting to be reminded of other
composers – John Adams in particular – and in the final
three movements the spectre of Philip Glass raised its
head, not to mention Barrington Pheloung. There is much
to admire and enjoy in this work but it’s just a touch
too long and the composer is unable to keep his inspiration
throughout the whole piece, and this is a shame for Armstrong
is obviously a very capable composer who has ideas and
who knows how to use them.
The
Violin
Concerto alone proves that Armstrong can sustain
his music in long arches. This disk will appeal strongly
to anyone interested in contemporary composition, despite
my reservations about
Memory
Takes My Hand. Here
is a strong voice with much to say. I look forward to
hearing him say more in the future.
Bob Briggs
see also review by Rob Barnett
Clio Gould
(violin); Lucy Crowe (soprano) 
