Scordatura, in musical terms, is the re-tuning of 
                  strings to provide notes not normally available to the instrument 
                  playing in its natural range. Most of the works on this disc 
                  use the technique to provide natural tunings outside the normal 
                  chromatic scale, and the results can be by turns fascinating 
                  and infuriating. The opening piece, für Johannes Kepler, 
                  takes as its starting point the great astronomer’s discoveries 
                  of the various intervals produced by the ratios between the 
                  orbits of the planets – also the subject of Hindemith’s opera 
                  Die Harmonie der Welt – and sets a hymn of praise in 
                  Latin to the Great God who has created these ‘celestial harmonies’. 
                  The singer (Alfrun Schmid, who plays violin in the Scordatura 
                  Trio on other tracks) and the viola (Elisabeth Smalt) play in 
                  subtly different scales over a background provided by the third 
                  player (Bob Gilmore on keyboard). All three are excellent here, 
                  and the result is often very beautiful to listen to. Bob Gilmore 
                  as producer provides a booklet note in which he capitalises 
                  the first letter of the title, but the composer himself in his 
                  own booklet note does not. The composer seems to have a liking 
                  for these uncapitalised titles, like comme ses paroles 
                  and catalogue irraisoné, so presumably this has a similar 
                  purpose.
                   
                  The next track on the other hand is definitely entirely in capitals; 
                  BLANK, to quote the composer, is “based around a single 
                  melodic line, moving at different speeds in three separate layers, 
                  progressively unfolding to the point where its unitary identity 
                  begins to disintegrate.” The result has the same sort of hypnotic 
                  quality produced by the sound of an orchestra tuning up, and 
                  produces a similarly queasy feeling that the instrumental intonation 
                  is not quite right; the composer describes the harmony as “anarchic” 
                  and that is certainly the sensation which is conveyed here. 
                  The piece goes on far too long for its content – it could have 
                  been halved in length to the listener’s advantage.
                   
                  Where in für Johannes Kepler Fox treated the text as 
                  a series of disjointed syllables, almost a vocalise for the 
                  voice of Alfrun Schmid, in the Trümmermusik he sets 
                  some often very moving texts based on the Berlin diaries of 
                  Max Frisch. These recorded his visit to the city in 1947 and 
                  his fury at the sufferings of the people while those who had 
                  caused the devastation “sit in prison, comfortably detained, 
                  well fed, safer than most, or in government departments.” The 
                  setting was originally for voice and hurdy-gurdy, and the latter 
                  instrument is also the instrument which takes a leading role 
                  in the final song of Schubert’s Winterreise, depicting 
                  a similar state of devastation at the end of the wanderer’s 
                  travels. The music of that song is indeed quoted, in a naturally 
                  distorted form appropriate to the hurdy-gurdy, in the second 
                  of the songs here – the song from which the lines above are 
                  cited. It is a very moving setting. Unfortunately Fox’s reaction 
                  to the words elsewhere is often mechanical, and this is particularly 
                  disturbing in the fourth song The weather is wonderful 
                  where the writer’s pleasure “in this landscape of trees and 
                  water” is given a rhythmically chugging setting over a continuous 
                  ostinato on the strings. This brings to mind the worst sort 
                  of superficial word-setting that we find in the less inspired 
                  works of Philip Glass. Schmid does not have the chance to sing 
                  here with the same rapt intensity that she achieves in für 
                  Johannes Kepler. She doesn’t sound comfortable either in 
                  some of the more rapid passages set in English translation. 
                  This is a work of intermittent beauties rather than a sustained 
                  contemplation of a ruined city and its people, odd from a composer 
                  whose later choral works show a lively and idiomatic approach 
                  to words.
                   
                  The Generic Composition #8 examines, in the composer’s 
                  words, “the changing interaction between sustained stopped notes 
                  and open strings in just intonation.” It forms part of a cycle 
                  “which form part of the ensemble installation Everything 
                  You Need To Know” (the capitalisation here is again the 
                  composer’s). Also apparently it has links to the catalogue 
                  irraisoné which was reviewed on this site by Carla Rees 
                  and whose words of commendation – “a highly engaging and fascinating 
                  work” – are included in the CD booklet. “What interests me in 
                  these Generic Compositions,” the composer goes on to 
                  say, “is the extent to which the instruments seem to write their 
                  own music when composers (players too?) let them.” The noise 
                  which results may just possibly be ‘interesting’, but here it 
                  is also thoroughly dislikeable. Incidentally this is the only 
                  track to feature Scott McLaughlin on electric guitar, although 
                  he gets lead billing on the sleeve.
                   
                  Fox returns to the setting of words in Natural Science. 
                  Here the poems by Ian Duhig are spoken and not sung (by Bob 
                  Gilmore) to an accompaniment of viola solo. Some of these settings 
                  are charming - an odd word to use in contemporary music, but 
                  entirely appropriate to some of the texts here. That does not 
                  apply to the grotesque A crippling jealousy whose unpleasant 
                  story of genital mutilation is given an oddly upbeat treatment. 
                  The playing of Elisabeth Smalt is perfection itself.
                   
                  The final piece on this CD is the shortest, setting in canon 
                  the name of the modern composer Aldo Clementi in celebration 
                  of his 85th birthday. “It translates the syllables 
                  of his name into sol-fa,” Fox tells us, “the syllabic lengths 
                  of his name into durations (with double values for his family 
                  name) and is played here in mean-tone.” The use of names to 
                  produce musical ‘signatures’ has a long and honoured history 
                  stretching at least from Bach to Shostakovich, and can often 
                  result in music that is oddly characteristic of the personalities 
                  concerned. On the basis of this one feels that one rather likes 
                  Aldo Clementi, but we don’t get the chance to make his acquaintance 
                  for long before the music abruptly stops almost in mid-phrase. 
                  This is one occasion where one gets the feeling that Fox could 
                  profitably have taken the opportunity to explore his material 
                  at greater length.
                   
                  The playing of the Trio Scordatura is excellent throughout in 
                  what must be music peculiarly difficult to keep in tune, and 
                  vulnerable to the slightest error. The recording enables one 
                  to hear every detail. The recording is partially sponsored by 
                  the Ralph Vaughan Williams Trust, and one thinks that RVW himself 
                  would have enjoyed at least some of the music here.
                   
                  Paul Corfield Godfrey