RITUAL, the latest from the ever-ambitious Jon Hopkins, is described as ‘a 41-minute electronic symphony built from cavernous subs, hypnotic drumming and transcendent melodic interplay’.
The project was conceived in 2022, when Hopkins received a commission for London’s Dreamachine experience. He wrote a shorter piece that became the cell from which RITUAL grew, with the help of collaborators Vylana, 7RAYS, Ishq, Clark, Emma Smith, Daisy Vatalaro and Cherif Hashizume.
What’s the music like?
RITUAL is a compelling piece of work – and a mindful treat. Best experienced in a single sitting, it grows from a small cell, a single pitch of ‘G’ – and a very similar opening to that of friend Brian Eno’s Reflection album.
Soon the differences become more pronounced, and Hopkins gathers the forces at his disposal – wordless voices, sonorous bass, slow moving drones at both ends of the audible scale, and rising energy levels, such as on the palace / illusion section, where a steady throb emanates from the bass drum.
The music expands still further, reaching its ultimate apex on solar goddess return, where the bass is joined by a bold treble and a rush of white noise, like walking outside and standing under a starry sky. Soon the bottom drops out of the sound, the listener left suspended through dissolution, before nothing is lost offers consolation through its piano loop.
Does it all work?
It does – thanks to a firm grip on the structure, Hopkins allowing the music to move at a natural pace.
Is it recommended?
It is. Jon Hopkins is becoming a very impressive long form composer, his credentials surely leading him towards a full-blown orchestral piece before long, bigger even than the music heard in his BBC Proms concert in 2023. RITUAL works both as a serious piece of keenly structured music, and as a musical mind cleanser. A very fine piece of work.
For fans of… Ólafur Arnalds, Jóhann Jóhannsson, A Winged Victory For The Sullen, Max Richter
Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra / Sir Simon Rattle
Royal Albert Hall, London Friday 6 September 2024
reviewed by Ben Hogwood Photos (c) Chris Christodoulou (taken from the previous night’s Prom)
This was Sir Simon Rattle‘s fifteenth encounter with the music of Gustav Mahler at the BBC Proms – and a third outing under his baton for the Sixth Symphony, which he first conducted in charge of the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain 40 years ago.
This time he was visiting, having returned to Germany to take charge of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, a feeling for the concertgoers akin to welcoming a distant relative and hearing about their latest job. The Munich ensemble have formidable Mahler credentials, no doubt introduced by Eugen Jochum from their founding in 1949 but notably honed by Rafael Kubelík, with whom they recorded all the symphonies for Deutsche Grammophon. This account of the Sixth proved them to be the ideal foil for Rattle, the Liverpudlian welcomed with great cheers around the hall.
Sir Simon knows his Mahler better than arguably any other living conductor, and the breadth and depth he brought to his interpretation was breathtaking. So too was the sheer audible spectrum, for which we have to thank Mahler, for this is one of those works that has simply everything, from the tiniest murmur from bass strings to the thunderous hammer strokes of the finale. Some way between that lies the tender theme he wrote for his wife Alma, a glowing light in the first movement under the tender caress of its beautiful wind choir. Around this and in the last movement were fleeting glimmers of sunshine from the cowbells, an unusual addition to the percussion section that charmed from their offstage position, evoking the open meadows but with shivers of cold wind from the rest of the orchestra, outlines icily drawn by strings and brass.
These moments were welcome respite from the tumult of Mahler’s marching music, obsessively hammered home in the fast movements, the orchestra turning this way and that at quick speed. The marching music, so virulent in the first movement, quickly develops a sour taste, and Rattle was alive to that in the scherzo – placed third. This is a time-honoured practice for him, in accordance with Mahler’s order of performance when conducting but not his initial order of composition. The controversy continues to follow the work around, and although many (this author included) prefer the scherzo placed second – ratcheting up the tension – Rattle’s shaping of the piece overall made his own choice a convincing one.
The orchestra were simply stunning. The strings – rarely given due credit in big symphonic performances such as this – were united beyond criticism, the violins in remarkable unison – and particularly beautiful in the serene opening to a magical slow movement. Brass were also as one in their clarion calls, but turned vulgar when they needed to. The wind section was beautifully shaped and coloured, with an appropriately plaintive oboe solo in the trio section of the scherzo. Underpinning the performance were the rolling timpani, the thunder to the lightning strikes of the percussion, whose power was simply brutal at times, The hammer blows, struck twice in the finale, were terrifying strokes of fate and delivered with appropriately cold theatre.
This was a performance that will stick in the memory for years, one from which my ears are still ringing. Mahler’s ghastly premonitions of later existence were brought to life in shocking technicolour, though Rattle revelled at the same time in its beautiful evocations of nature. These were ultimately swept aside, with red-blooded highs and cold-blooded lows, all blended into the same intoxicating musical cocktail. For sheer emotional power, this symphony – and this performance – had it all.
You can listen to the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and Sir Simon Rattle in their recent live recording of the Sixth symphony below:
Published post no.2,294 – Saturday 7 September 2024
San Franciscan producer Scott Hansen returns to his Tycho alias for a first long player since 2020’s Simulcast.
The aim this time around was, in his words, “about creating a space for healing and reflection, a mantra for spiritual, emotional, and physical healing. At the end of the day, all we really have is our health – both physical and mental – and we wish infinite health to our family and friends. So in those ways, infinite health is a salutation and an imperative.”
The synths and samplers still form the basis for the Tycho sound, but Hansen has looked to use acoustic topping in creating an individual sound, helped by regular collaborators Zac Brown (guitar), Rory O’Connor (drums) and producer Chris Taylor.
What’s the music like?
Tycho have always made beautiful sounds that somehow capture the wide expanse and warmth of their Californian home – and Infinite Health is no different.
This is an upbeat album, full of energizing, positive grooves and laden with hooks. Hansen’s breezy textures, helped by Grizzly Bear’s Taylor, are a treat, especially on their own favourite, the single Phantom:
The punchy groove they achieve here is used to good effect elsewhere, with breaks successfully employed alongside springy, four to the floor rhythm tracks. Restraint is a dreamy reverie, as is the lovely Green, dressed with earthy drums, while Devices and DX Odyssey are more of the electro-disco school.
For this author the best track is Totem, a really catchy acoustic-led number that is fertile in its invention and packs a good groove.
Does it all work?
It does, comfortably – with Infinite Health having all the positive energy and breezy textures of previous releases, while facing firmly forward in its musical outlook.
Is it recommended?
It is – Tycho bring a burst of late summer sunshine to the party, dressed in production you want to dive into. First class chillout music.
For fans of… Ulrich Schnauss, Explosions In The Sky, Rival Consoles, Minotaur Shock
For full repertoire list, see the bottom of this article
Monica Mancini, Rachel John, Oliver Tompsett (vocals), Freddie Benedict, Kevin Fox, Johanna Marshall, Liz Swain (backing vocals), BBC Concert Orchestra / Edwin Outwater
Royal Albert Hall, London Monday 2 September 2024
reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Andy Paradise
Among a plethora of centenary commemorations for composers classical or otherwise, it was good to see that of Henry Mancini marked with a Prom that featured a decent selection of his music next to that of relative contemporaries in this programme of unalloyed ‘easy listening’. The period 1955-75 was an era when such music not only flourished but was taken seriously by moguls in the music industry, witnessed by the sheer number of in-house orchestras with ‘their’ conductors who secured reputations comparable to those of their pop contemporaries.
The BBC Concert Orchestra has long flown the flag for this music, as has its principal guest conductor Edwin Outwater. They launched this evening in fine style with the main title from Mancini’s Charade, its ominous allure complemented by the panache of the theme from Peter Gunn then the slinky humour of Baby Elephant Walk; a mellifluous Days of Wine and Roses bringing the first appearance from tonight’s quartet of backing vocalists. The evergreen Moon River had an elegant cameo by the composer’s daughter Monica Mancini (above), its pathos set in relief by the enigmatic theme from The Pink Panther then irresistible sleaziness of Harold Arlen’s Blues in the Night. More Mancini followed with the driven percussive of Rain Drops in Rio then sultry Lujon with its eponymous percussion instrument. Quincy Jones hit an early high with his ricocheting Soul Bossa Nova, as also Juan García Esquivel with his catchy Mucha Muchacha and Les Baxter in his stealthy Quiet Village. Burt Bacharach’s bittersweet Alfie was graced with an eloquent vocal by Rachel John, then Nicholas Roubanis’ Misirlou evocatively brought up the interval.
The late Laurie Johnson created TV gold with the suave tones of The Shake, theme from The Avengers, as did Morton Stevens with his high-octane Hawaii Five-O. Rachel John sounded a shade coy in Bacharach’s The Look of Love (memorably covered by Scott Walker), his genial Casino Royale hitting the spot as did Julius Wechter’s breezy Spanish Flea. The vocal quartet added ambivalence to Bobby Scott / Ric Marlow co-write A Taste of Honey then ethereality to Michel Legrand’s The Windmills of Your Mind or a neat line in scat to Mancini’s Party Poop. If Oliver Tompsett undersold the sassiness of Sid Ramin’s Music to Watch Girls By, there was no mistaking the faux-chinoiserie of Mancini’s Hong Kong Fireworks and suavity of Baxter’s Shooting Star. Rachel John made Bacharach’s This Guy’s in Love With You a candidate for the most perfect pop-song, with Baxter’s Saturday Night on Saturn more inane in context. Not so Esquivel’s Whatchamacallit with its quirky Ondioline (more stylophone then theremin), then Oliver Tompsett pointed the double-entendre of Bacharach’s What’s New Pussycat? before a gyrating take on Les Reed’s / Gordon Mills’ It’s Not Unusual, indelibly linked with Tom Jones.
It would have been perfectly feasible to assemble a evening devoted to Mancini by taking in his edgier film-scores to such 1950s classics as The Creature of the Black Lagoon and Touch of Evil, but making this a nostalgia-fest doubtless commended itself to a near-capacity house – not that you had to be over a certain age to enjoy what was on offer or to have seen the TV series Animal Magic whose theme-tune, Johnson’s Las Vegas, made an effervescent encore.
List of repertoire performed:
Mancini (arr. Stanley Black): Charade – Main Title (1963) Mancini: Peter Gunn – Theme (1958) Mancini (arr. Black): Baby Elephant Walk (1961) Mancini: Days of Wine and Roses (1962)*d Mancini: Moon River (1961)a Mancini (arr. Gavin Sutherland): The Pink Panther – Theme (1963)* Arlen (arr. Fiona Brice): Blues in the Night (1941)* Mancini (arr. George Moore): Rain Drops in Rio (1961) Mancini: Lujon (1961) Jones (arr. Alasdair Malloy): Soul Bossa Nova (1962)* Esquivel (arr. Sam Gale): Mucha Muchacha (1962)d Baxter (arr. Moore): Quiet Village (1951) Bacharach (arr. Les Reed): Alfie (1966)b Roubanis (arr. Callum Au): Misirlou (1941)
Johnson (arr. Mike Townend): The Shake (1965) Stevens (arr. Malloy): Hawaii Five-O (1968) Bacharach (arr. Richard Balcombe): The Look of Love (1967)b Bacharach (arr. Balcome): Casino Royale (1967) Wechter (arr. Malloy): Spanish Flea (1965) Scott/Marlow (arr. Brice): A Taste of Honey (1960)d Legrand (arr. Balcombe): The Windmills of Your Mind (1968)d Ramin (arr. Balcombe): Music to Watch Girls By (1967)c Mancini (arr. Moore): Party Poop (1968)d Mancini (arr. Black): Hong Kong Fireworks (1978) Baxter (arr. Moore): Shooting Star (1968) Bacharach (arr. Balcombe): This Guy’s in Love With You (1968)b Baxter (arr. Moore): Saturday Night on Saturn (1957) Esquivel (arr. Gale): Whatchamacallit (1959) Bacharach (arr. Balcombe): What’s New Pussycat (1965)c Reed/Mills (arr. Balcombe): It’s Not Unusual (1965)c
(All titles Proms premieres except *)
aMonica Mancini, bRachel John, cOliver Tompsett (vocals), dFreddie Benedict, Kevin Fox, Johanna Marshall, Liz Swain (backing vocals), BBC Concert Orchestra / Edwin Outwater
Today marks the 200th anniversary of the birth of composer Anton Bruckner.
Bruckner is a ‘marmite’ figure in classical music. His symphonies, the calling cards of his small but profound output, divide opinion greatly. The later works, I am sure, would appeal to those approaching from the direction of progressive rock, and are fiercely admired by a great many devoted classical music listeners. They create sound worlds unlike any other composer, ‘cathedrals in sound’ in which he uses distinctive themes, deceptively simple techniques, and extended forms that mean most of his symphonic works run for an hour or more. Other ears, however, remain unmoved, immune to the great expanses of texture and intensity.
What cannot be disputed is that Bruckner’s music is instantly recognisable as his, especially when it is one of those nine numbered symphonies. In the last year a host of recordings have appeared of the whole cycle, along with a myriad of different – if authentic – performing versions. A box set round-up of all these versions is due to appear on Naxos on 13 September, collecting all the individual volumes of Bruckner recorded by the Bruckner Orchester Linz under Markus Poschner for the Capriccio label:
My personal favourite among the symphonies is the mighty Eighth, which has received a number of classic recordings. Those by Reginald Goodall, Herbert von Karajan, Carlo Maria Giulini and – especially – Gunter Wand, have all left a mark. The latter is an incredible account, recorded in 1987 in Lübeck Cathedral:
Yet I did also want to draw some attention to Bruckner’s music for voices and for strings, in case you want to try something different. The motets for unaccompanied choir are profound and beautiful – while the Te Deum is a many-splendoured thing, as are the three masses for chorus and orchestra.
Here, too, is the String Quintet in F major, a big-boned piece with music of real poise and power. The slow movement shows how Bruckner can write delicate music, the Scherzo is an elusive dance, while the outer movements show what an unusual yet affective style he has, able to wring every last drop of power from a seemingly small ensemble:
Published post no.2,291 – Wednesday 3 September 2024
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