I thought we were 
                    going to have ‘I was born under 
                    a wandering star’ with the opening 
                    low tones of Psalm 124. This 
                    is one of Davies’s earlier pieces 
                    referring to mediaeval and renaissance 
                    sources for some of the musical 
                    material. The slow unfolding of 
                    relatively straightforward intervals, 
                    transparent instrumentation including 
                    solo guitar recitatives, and low 
                    marimba, cello and bass clarinet 
                    sonorities gives the work a timeless, 
                    remote sort of feel. Gentle variations 
                    with flute and glockenspiel over 
                    the top add colour and sparkle in 
                    the opening, but the central bass 
                    clarinet solo sounds a little flat 
                    to me – not so much out of tune 
                    as giving little in the way of phrasing 
                    and tonal interest. Rather than 
                    fading, the piece rises to a sort 
                    of climax – one of those ambiguous 
                    ones to which you could effectively 
                    add a recapitulating coda, but the 
                    piece just stops. 
                   
                  
 
                   
                  
Dove, Star-Folded 
                    is a string trio, and was written 
                    as a memorial for Sir Steven Runciman. 
                    This time the music has its origins 
                    in a Greek Byzantine hymn, referring 
                    to Sir Steven’s researches into 
                    Byzantine history. This is not an 
                    element which is immediately apparent, 
                    and Christopher Mark’s booklet notes 
                    indicate that the piece has been 
                    compared with the atmosphere to 
                    be found in late Beethoven Quartets, 
                    Op.132 for instance. Longer periods 
                    of introverted repose and some unexpected 
                    angular contrasts might give that 
                    idea, but I’m afraid the piece rumbled 
                    along without making much of an 
                    impression on me – probably because 
                    I’ve been listening to too much 
                    Shostakovich. The last minutes from 
                    6:50 do however have their own serene 
                    beauty. 
                  
 
                  
By way of contrast, 
                    Economies of Scale opens 
                    with an explosion of notes. The 
                    most recent piece in this programme; 
                    there are echoes of Messiaen in 
                    some of the piano writing, the birdlike 
                    phrases and the almost inevitable 
                    association with sonorities such 
                    as flautando violin and clarinet. 
                    The music has a fascinating narrative, 
                    almost programmatic content to my 
                    ears, seeming to pass through related 
                    events rather than flow in a way 
                    in which memory connects shapes 
                    to create structure over time. The 
                    intensity of the opening is counterbalanced 
                    by the serenity of the conclusion, 
                    creating a short story which you 
                    immediately want to read again. 
                  
 
                  
At nearly half 
                    an hour, Ave Maris Stella is 
                    by a long way the most substantial 
                    work on this disc. Written for the 
                    ensemble The Fires of London, the 
                    virtuosic nature of the music reflects 
                    the avant-garde credentials of this 
                    legendary group, which was on a 
                    par with the London Sinfonietta. 
                    Their composer-directed recording 
                    on Unicorn-Kanchana is still available, 
                    and is still something of a must-have 
                    if you are interested in British 
                    contemporary music of the flared 
                    jeans and long hair period. There 
                    is a description in the booklet 
                    notes of the magic square matrix 
                    used in formulating the material 
                    for this piece, but it suffices 
                    to say that this is more of a springboard 
                    from which compositional processes 
                    can begin, rather than a strict 
                    serial technique à la Webern. 
                    While the plainchant from which 
                    the title derives appears to be 
                    and is part of the fabric of the 
                    piece, there is a greater sense 
                    of atonality in much of this music, 
                    making for something more of a sustained 
                    intellectual challenge for the listener. 
                    With a little extra concentration, 
                    and attention to the atmosphere 
                    and instrumental colours in the 
                    writing you should in fact discover 
                    that there are fewer problems than 
                    you might imagine. Each section 
                    is well enough defined, with contrasts 
                    between, for instance, an extended 
                    marimba solo, and a subsequent movement 
                    in which a rich interaction between 
                    the other instruments gathers seemingly 
                    disparate arguments into the more 
                    lyrical and expressive solos of 
                    the next. The ticking marimba in 
                    the exquisite final movement may 
                    or may not be a nod in the direction 
                    of colleague and clock fan Harrison 
                    Birtwistle, with whom Davies founded 
                    the Pierrot Players, predecessors 
                    of The Fires of London. 
                  
 
                  
Gemini has performed 
                    and recorded extensively since its 
                    formation in 1974, working in music 
                    education as ensemble-in-residence 
                    at a number of institutes, and winning 
                    prizes and awards along the way. 
                    Like the builder’s broom, the various 
                    bits have changed over the years, 
                    but they make a fine noise: playing 
                    with great panache on this disc, 
                    and with a clear affinity with the 
                    composer’s craftsman-like idiom. 
                    The studio recording, while a little 
                    on the dry side, is also very good. 
                  
Dominy Clements 
                     
                  
see also 
                    review 
                    by Gary Higginson