The title of Julia Holter’s sixth album appears to be a play on words from The Beatles’ song Sometimes…but there is no reason to suggest that in the accompanying press release.
Instead the title could be more a reference to motherhood, and the birth of her daughter – as well as the presence of loved ones lost. What is certainly present is Holter’s physical connection with music, and a sense of being in the moment – rather than looking back in a dreamlike state as some of her work has done. As she says, “It’s about being in the passionate state of making something: being in that moment, and what is that moment?”
What’s the music like?
Something…has an experimental feel, and does on occasional feel like a dream sequence, experienced out of the body. This being Holter, there is melody at its core – and a strong inner power, experienced on the heady opening trio. Sun Girl, These Morning and the title track are rich in colour, Holter’s soft vocal matched by dappled textures, an agile flute part and – on the latter – a moving saxophone solo.
Most striking of all is the song Spinning, which starts like a misfiring record turntable, but establishes itself as a highly distinctive track. The backing is a kind of oblique waltz, the foil for Holter’s vocal, a mixture of powerful singing and conversational asides.
Ocean is both beatless and bottomless, as its title suggests it should be – with upper melodic lines bringing a new age feel to the surface. Talking To The Whisper has similar depths but with beats added – and connections that feel primal, in and around the flurries of flute and percussion. Who Brings Me offers calm and contemplation, closing thoughts in the company of clarinet and rich synthesized sound.
Does it all work?
It does – but because this is complex music, several listens are recommended to get the most from Holter’s music, revealing more of its extraordinary layers.
Is it recommended?
It is – a characteristically intense addition to Julia Holter’s output, music that makes strong physical and emotional connections with its listener.
For fans of… Julianna Barwick, Laurel Halo, Joanna Newsom
Richard Baker Crank (1994)a Motet II (2020)b The Tyranny of Fun (2012)c Angelus (2004)d Learning to Fly (1999)e To Keep a True Lent (2001)f Hommagesquisse (2008)g Hwyl fawr ffriniau (2016, rev. 2020)h
hMelinda Maxwell (oboe); eOliver Janes (clarinet); bNye Parry (live electronics); aRichard Baker (diatonic music box); dThree Strange Angels (Richard Benjafield and Chris Brannick, percussion); fChoir of King’s College, Cambridge / Stephen Cleobury; bCHROMA Ensemble / Richard Baker; ceghBirmingham Contemporary Music Group / Finnigan Downie Dear
NMC D275 [60’37’’] Producers/Engineers David Lefeber, fBen Collingwood Recorded d19 April 2004 at St Giles’s Church, London; f29 February 2004 at Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge; b 4 August 2022 at Menuhin Hall, Cobham; cegh5 & 6 November 2022 at the CBSO Centre, Birmingham; a10 December 2023 at Parry-Williams Building, University of Aberystwyth
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
NMC adds to its invaluable Debut Discs series with this timely release devoted to the music of Richard Baker, expertly realized by ensembles and musicians with which has been associated – not least the Birmingham Contemporary Music Group – whether as composer or conductor.
What’s the music like?
Prominent on the new music scene for over a quarter-century, Baker (b.1972) is equally well regarded as a conductor – notably for the German premiere of Gerald Barry’s The Triumph of Beauty and Deceit or the world premiere of Philip Venable’s 4.48 Psychosis – but he has built a select catalogue (published by Composers Edition), the variety of which is duly in evidence. BCMG has been central to his creative and executive work, so it is good to see this ensemble featured here – not least in two pieces commissioned as part of its Sound Investment scheme.
Baker was among numerous UK figures who undertook their postgraduate studies with Louis Andriessen, Crank being a whimsically oblique tribute in its unfolding of multiple pulses over a consistent tempo. The Dutch composer is also an influence behind Learning to Fly as takes its cue from those novels by Paul Auster for this compact concerto; the tonal range of basset clarinet tellingly to the fore in the eventful interplay of ‘Boisterous’, the subdued acceptance of ‘Somnolent’ and renewed animation of ‘Suddenly awake’ with its epiphanic closing phase.
Choral music features sparingly in Baker’s output, but his motet To Keep a True Lent captures Robert Herrick’s message unerringly. Hardly less affecting is his eliding between anxiety and repose in the dextrous percussion duo Angelus, while the punningly entitled Hommagesquisse serves as a laconic tribute to Pierre Boulez in alluding to his own music and that of others he advocated as conductor. Most substantial work here, The Tyranny of Fun draws on the notion of entertainment as distraction – hence escape – from the ambiguity of existence, along with a homage to Ravel (and Edgar Allen Poe) via Balanchine across two sections whose respective emergence and subsidence, then gradually accumulating energy outline a trajectory in which any tendency towards self-gratification is curtailed by vicissitudes of an encroaching reality.
The other pieces reflect aspects of Wales where Baker now lives. What translates as Goodbye Friends draws Edwin Christy’s song into a resourceful tribute, while Motet II makes reference to Welsh culture ‘then and now’ across six aphoristic movements understated yet provocative.
Does it all work?
Yes, inasmuch as this collection confirms the distinctiveness of Baker’s musical idiom across three decades of his composing. The recordings prove as assured as might be expected given these are artists with whom he has often collaborated, Oliver Janes taking time out as principal clarinettist of City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra to demonstrate his prowess with the basset instrument, and Melinda Maxwell underlining why she has long been among the UK’s leading oboists. Gratifying too that a reading by the late Stephen Cleobury could be included.
Is it recommended?
Indeed, and those acquiring this release should be encouraged to investigate other of Baker’s works available from NMC – notably his breakthrough piece Los Rabanos (NMCD076), or his four diverse contributions to that label’s extensive download project Digital Discoveries.
Ole Böhn (violin) (Heather, Dies Irae, Way of the Dead); Minah Choe (cello) (Velvet), Daniel Herscovitch (piano) (all) with Benjamin Kopp (piano) (The Body is an Ear)
Kate Moore Zomer (2006) Velvet (2010) The Body is an Ear (2011) Heather (2013) Dies Irae (2015) Way of the Dead (2017) Lucidity: Eyes of Hands (2018)
Heritage HTGCD137 [79’38’’] Producers Kate Moore, Daniel Herscovitch Engineers David Kim-Boyle, David Kinney Recorded 3 March, 8 August and 9 October 2023 at Verbrugghen Hall, Conservatorium of Music, Sydney
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Heritage rings the changes on its schedule of welcome reissues with this release of music by Kate Moore (b1979), Australian composer born in the UK who currently resides in the Netherlands, all played by a notable roster of musicians based at Sydney Conservatorium.
What’s the music like?
As the booklet notes make plain, any tendency to Minimalism in Moore’s music is rendered from a distinctly maximalist perspective. Hence an inexorable build-up of tension in the two-piano version of The Body is an Ear (initially for organ and recast for two such instruments), with its inspiration in Sufist legend, or growing plangency of Dies Irae where violin intones elements of that plainchant against some ominously undulating harmonies on piano in what the composer has aptly described as a ‘‘spiritual meditation on forgiveness and redemption’’.
Arguably even more revealing of Moore’s aesthetic is the title-track. Velvet draws cello and piano into a sustained and increasingly intense dialogue whose ostensible depiction of cloth in Renaissance painting yields great textural and colouristic diversity, while building toward an impassioned culmination from which the coda is more affecting for its brevity and pathos. Hardly less absorbing, Way of the Dead takes a not dissimilar formal trajectory – this ‘danse macabre’, as inspired by a Mexican festival, fusing melodic eloquence from the violin with an implacable rhythmic accompaniment on piano such as comes to the fore in those seismic final bars. At the opposite end of the scale in all senses, Zomer takes extracts from a sermon by John Donne for this piano rumination with the simple and profound artlessly combined.
The duo for violin and piano Heather takes its cue from the composer’s Hebridean hike – the incidence of vegetation growing in patterns according to outlines of now-vanished buildings effecting a piece where instrumental coordination becomes ever more exacting, as the music’s emotional velocity gradually while also remorselessly accelerates towards another of Moore’s reticent and poignant apotheoses. Lucidity: Eyes of Hands draws on the legend of St Lucie, as related by Dante, for a solo piano work whose polyrhythmic intricacy is in constant evolution as the music unfolds – though, on this occasion, there is no crystallizing of tension at the end; rather, the accrued impetus spills over into a forceful and even unnerving peroration to leave no doubt as to Moore’s identity with the narrative that made possible this piece’s conception.
Does it all work?
Yes, given that Moore’s is an arresting and appealing idiom, one whose outward consistency is countered by its variety of technical procedures along with its underlying expressive range. It certainly benefits from the advocacy of these musicians, their dedication and commitment coming across at every turn, while the clarity of recording emphasizes its visceral immediacy. Informative notes from the composer and Daniel Herscovitch. Those listening via download have an additional item – a Prelude for piano, whose limpid poise makes for a welcome tonic.
Is it recommended?
Indeed, and hopefully those who have acquired this Heritage project will investigate further releases of Moore’s music – the volume of piano pieces Dances and Canons (ECM) and the collection of vocal items Stories for Ocean Shells (Canteloupe) proving no less worthwhile.
Listen & Buy
You can hear excerpts and look at purchase options on the Presto website. For more information on Kate Moore head to her website – and for more on the artists click on the names Daniel Herscovitch, Ole Böhn, Minah Choe and Benjamin Kopp.
Roderick Williams (baritone) (Holst, O’Neil, Quilter & Scott), Rupert Marshall-Luck (violin, Brian), BBC Concert Orchestra / John Andrews
Brian orch. Marshall-Luck Legend B144 (c1919) Delius Petite Suite d’Orchestre no.1 RTVI/6 (1889-90) Holst Ornulf’s Drapa H34 (1898, rev. 1900) Mackenzie Colomba Op.28 – Prelude (1883) O’Neill La Belle Dame sans Merci Op.31 (1908) Quilter orch. anonymous The Faithless Shepherdess Op.12/4 (1908) Scott The Ballad of Fair Helen of Kirkconnel Op.8 (1900)
EM Records EMRCD085 [61’21’’] English texts included Producer Neil Varley Engineers Andrew Rushton, Robbie Hayward Recorded 5-7 January 2023 at Battersea Arts Centre, London
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
EM Records continues its enterprising schedule with this collection of mainly vocal settings from the early twentieth century – heard alongside early orchestral pieces by Mackenzie and Delius, plus a recent orchestration of what is Havergal Brian’s only surviving chamber work.
What’s the music like?
This album’s title is also that of the 1819 poem by John Keats, its tale of ecstasy recollected in despair tangibly conveyed by Norman O’Neill in a setting which surely ranks among his finest concert works before music for theatre productions became his focus. Only marginally less compelling, Cyril Scott’s take on a typically over-elaborate ballad by Walter Scott has a keen sense of atmosphere – not least as rendered by Roderick Williams with an appropriate Lowland burr. Less involving emotionally, Holst’s setting of verse from an early Ibsen play is rather forced in its rhetoric – though the passages of emotional impulsiveness, allied to an acute feeling for orchestral textures, does presage those masterpieces of his maturity. Roger Quilter’s setting of a favourite Elizabethan lyric launches the collection with brusque charm.
Of the orchestral pieces, Delius’s early Première Petite Suite is here heard in full for the first time. Influences are easy to discern – Bizet in its whimsical Marche, Grieg in its winsome Berceuse, Massenet in its vivacious Scherzo then Fauré in its plaintive Duo – but never to the detriment of this music’s appeal, while the final variations on a sternly unison theme with ecclesiastical overtones will keep even seasoned Delians guessing as to its provenance. The likelihood of Alexander Mackenzie’s lyrical drama Colomba being revived is slim, but the Prelude to its first act has an evocative ardency which concludes this album in fine style.
John Andrews has the measure of these contrasting idioms and gets committed playing from the BBC Concert Orchestra. Roderick Williams is on fine form, as is Rupert Marshall-Luck in the Legend by Havergal Brian he himself has orchestrated. Ranging widely in expressive profile, while building considerable fervour during its relatively brief span prior to a calmly eloquent close, it is a stylish adaptation of the violin-and-piano original which has enjoyed increasing exposure this past decade. Marshall-Luck speculates whether Brian intended his own orchestral realization yet, given the composer had evidently written an orchestral piece with this title around 1915, it seems not impossible that the duo version is itself a reduction.
Does it all work?
Yes, in that the whole proves greater than the sum of its parts. Certainly, the works by Scott and O’Neill find these contemporaneous while otherwise very different figures at something near their best, while the Delius makes for an attractive sequence which deserves more than occasional revival. As, too, does the Brian given that comparable shorter concertante pieces by figures such as Saint-Saëns are being taken up by a younger generation of violinists. The spacious sound and extensive annotations are both up to EMR’s customary high standards.
Is it recommended?
Indeed. Hearing the Holst prompts the thought that, with the 150th and 90th anniversaries of his respective birth and death falling this year, now would be the ideal time for revival of his orchestral suite Phantastes – which has seemingly remained unheard since its 1912 premiere.
One of jazz music’s strongest qualities is improvisation, and the way musicians are encouraged to speak with freedom and walk a tightrope, to see what they are capable of.
Such a statement can certainly be applied to these three musicians, who improvised this recording on the afternoon of their very first meeting. Dave Harrington contributes guitar and electronics, Max Jaffe looks after the drums and percussion while Patrick Shiroishi is the saxophonist, as well as contributing bells and tambourine.
What’s the music like?
Consistently engaging – and inventive with it. There are four longer form pieces here, and the shorter Ship Rock. Each finds the players fully engaged while the extra-long pieces are well structured, with imaginative changes of colour to aid the ebb and flow.
Staring Into The Imagination (Of Your Face) is immediately notable for Jaffe’s sensitive brush work and Shiroishi’s well-judged vibrato, the saxophone given a nicely poised solo. How To Draw Buildings is something of an epic that bursts with sonic invention, with smoky and psychedelic moods that feature some powerful, long notes on the sax.
Dance Of The White Shadow And Golden Kite has a great urgency, breaking out into manic episodes, while Harrington’s guitar shapes the start of Return In 100 Years, The Colors Will Be At Their Peak. This track is full of incident, becoming fractious as each instrument strives to be heard.
Does it all work?
Largely. With such an instinctive approach – and such little preparation time – it is a risk to open out the broad canvas in this way, but the musical chemistry is such that these three musicians succeed in their endeavours.
Is it recommended?
It is. There is fiercely passionate music to be heard here, and imaginative use of the colours available. Hopefully the trio will continue their musical quest, as it would be interesting to chart their ensemble work over a period of years, to see where it takes them.
For fans of…Jeff Parker ETA Quartet, Ben Monder’s Amorphae, Body / Head, 75 Dollar Bill
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