Having taken us on a spellbinding “Fenland Journey” through the
lowlands of eastern England on his debut solo recital of his own
compositions, Bill - as he is known to his friends - now turns
his attention to the genius loci of another iconic British
landscape – Salisbury Plain. Taking much of his inspiration from
the flora and fauna of the locale, and, as he hints at in the
booklet notes, the English pastoral tradition - although to these
ears more of the maverick Moeran/Ireland/Bax axis than the no
less impressive but more understated approach of, say, a Howells.
In this respect, I find Bill’s music one that sits equally well
alongside my longstanding appreciation of the output of labels
like ECM and Touch as much as anything conventionally classical.
The spirits of Ravel and Debussy are also a given. There’s even
a glimmer of Charles Ives, who Bill, his younger brother Steve
and indeed myself continue to find such an inspiration (as does
the great John Adams! I am just as much reminded of ex-Cabaret
Voltaire, turned BBC sound recordist Renaissance man Chris Watson.
Watson’s first disc for the aforesaid Touch (Stepping Into the
Dark) has booklet quotes from ur-psychogeographer Tom Lethbridge
in an attempt to explain the magic inherent in the CD’s contents.
So to the actual
music! Half the sixteen tracks carry the scientific or common
appellations of their inspirations. The other half reference
spatial and/or temporal experiences of the Plain. These somehow
echo John Ireland’s works composed in thrall to the not so
distant “memoried” places of the South Downs - think Amberley
Wild Brooks or, especially, the orchestral, Arthur Machen-inspired
Legend. The stately opening Bromus erectus leads
on to the more impressionistic, even almost romantic Echium
vulgare with Kenneth Leighton at the piano rather than
Rachmaninov! The Dark Green Fritillary flutters beautifully
through the next flowing piece until the delicate Briza
(should it be brevia?) media makes for the shortest
of acquaintances. Cheverell Hill is the first place
to be actually named and fittingly its music seems quintessentially
English. Another brief floral interlude leads on to the gorgeous,
rippling rhythms of Thymus and Sanguisorba but
the wonderful Heatwave with Distant Fire is something
else again - more Keith Jarrett or Bill Evans than any more
obvious antecedents. The following Nightsweeping has
a supple melodicism to it whereas Moths to Light again
impeccably treads the fine line between jazz and JS. Cirsium
tuberosum is a shorter, softer companion to the opening
“broom” but back On Haxton Down the English pastoral
tradition reasserts itself - albeit more in the sense of John
Tilbury playing Howard Skempton than Parkin playing Moeran.
Orobanche elatior reminds me, sat writing this in south-east
Spain the day after the worst storms in many years here, of
the quietude of the Catalan composer Mompou - especially in
his Musica Callada. Dust Devil is possibly the
most virtuosic piece on the disc, especially in terms of its
pace, and melodic with it. The CD ends with two beautiful
and contrasting impressionistic musical landscapes. By
the Avon is just how you imagine it should be - an instrumental
companion to Finzi’s setting of Overlooking the River Stour,
well over half a century down the line. At Imber has
the feel of a majestic but restrained hymnody).
Overall, a real
triumph whichever way you look at it. This music deserves
and demands a wider audience.
Neil Horner
William Rhys
Meek (piano) 
