On record – State Choir LATVIJA / Māris Sirmais – Sempiternam: Choral music by Rhona Clarke (Métier)

rhona-clarke

Rhona Clarke
O Vis Aeternitatis (2020)
Two Marian Anthems (2007)
Three Carols on Medieval Texts (2014)
Requiem (2020)
The Kiss (2008)
A Song for St Cecilia’s Day (1991)
Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep (2006)
The Old Woman (2016)
Rorate Caeli (1994)

State Choir LATVIJA / Māris Sirmais

Métier MSV28614 [72’36”] English/Latin texts and English translations included

Producer & Engineer Varis Kutmiņš

Recorded July 2021, St John’s Church, Riga

Written by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Métier continues its coverage of Rhona Clarke with this collection of choral works that spans three decades and comprises settings in English and Latin, underlining the stylistic extent of her music as well as its versatility over a range of texts from the Medieval to the present era.

What’s the music like?

Now in her mid-sixties and a prominent figure in the cultural life of her native Dublin, Clarke has amassed a sizable output as takes in almost all the major genres with particular emphasis on chamber, choral and electro-acoustic music. A previous Métier release of her four piano trios from the Fidelio Trio (MSV28561) confirmed her astute handling of what is among the more recalcitrant of chamber media, with such fluency being no less evident in her writing for chorus that can easily be described as inclusive in terms of its subjects and sympathies.

The Latin pieces are almost all religious texts, of which the gradual Rorate Caeli is energetic and intricate with particularly adroit usage of modes. The stylistic trajectory Clarke has taken is evident in the motet O Vis Aeternitatis, whose text by Hildegard of Bingen duly inspires a setting of great contrapuntal skill with arresting interplay of sung and spoken passages. Two Marian Anthems comprise a fluid take on Regina Caeli then a Salve Regina whose fusing of chordal and melismatic elements results in music of translucent beauty. Most extensive is the Requiem whose four sections – a sombre ‘Introit’, an ethereal ‘Lux Aeterna’, an intimate ‘Pie Jesu’ then a soulful ‘In Paradisum’ – focus on the overtly cathartic aspects. Very different is Ave Atque Vale, a setting of Catullus where pathos and indignation are forcefully intertwined.

The English pieces underline Clarke’s literary sympathies even more directly. The relatively early A Song for St Cecilia’s Day evinces an inventive approach to Dryden’s verse in which order is wrested out of (relative) chaos towards a climactic statement around ‘diapason’. Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep sets the poem generally attributed to Mary Elizabeth Frye with a melting eloquence as ought to make it a staple of the modern repertoire. After which, the grim humour summoned from the anonymous text The Old Woman is the more pungent. Clarke’s questing harmonic approach helps clarify the sentiment of Ulick O’Connor’s poem The Kiss, but its directness in Three Carols on Medieval Texts yields an engaging humour in Glad and Blithe and Make We Merry to complement the rapt intimacy of Lullay My Liking.

Does it all work?

Almost always thanks to the technical finesse of Clarke’s choral writing and, as previously noted, her ability to ‘home in’ on the expressive essence of the text(s) at hand makes for an emotional empathy which communicates directly to listeners. It helps when the contribution of the State Choir LATVIJA, under Māris Sirmais, is so attuned to this music, not least given its audible command of several by no means idiomatic (to modern ears) English texts. Choral societies looking for new pieces to enrich their repertoire could do worse than to investigate what is on offer here.

Is it recommended?

Indeed. The acoustic of St John’s, Riga is ideally suited to the frequent textural density of this music and the composer provides detailed annotations. Hopefully there will be more releases from this source, not least of the electro-acoustic works that form a notable part of her output.

Listen

Buy

For further information on this disc and to view purchase options, visit the Divine Art Records website. To read more about Rhona Clarke, visit this dedicated composer website, and for more on the performers, click on the names of State Choir LATVIJA and Māris Sirmais.

On record – Jeremy Huw Williams & Paula Fan – From The Hills of Dream: The Forgotten Songs of Arnold Bax (EM Records)

bax-songs

Jeremy Huw Williams (baritone), Paula Fan (piano)

Bax
The Grand Match (1903). To my Homeland (1904). Leaves, Shadows and Dreams. Viking-Battle-Song (1905). I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden. The Twa Corbies (both 1906). Longing. From the Hills of Dream (both 1907). Landskab (1908). Marguerite (1909). Das tote Kind (1911). Welcome, Somer. Of her Mercy (both 1914). A Leader (1916). The Splendour Falls (1917). Le Chant d’Isabeau. A Rabelaisian Catechism (both 1920). Carrey Clavel (1925) – all world premiere recordings

EM Records EMRCD073 [77’56”]

Producer Jeremy Huw Williams Engineer Wiley Ross

Recorded 13, 14, 16, 22 & 23 October 2020 at Jeff Haskell Recording Studio; 13 November 2020 at Jim Brady Recording Studios, University of Arizona, Tucson, USA

Written by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

EM Records continues its coverage of lesser-known (or the lesser-known music of) English composers in an extensive survey of ‘forgotten’ songs by Arnold Bax, of which only a few were publicly performed in his lifetime with several of them first heard as recently as 2018.

What’s the music like?

Although he is best known for his symphonies and tone poems, songs with piano occupy a not unimportant place in Bax’s output – particularly over his formative years. This selection unfolds chronologically – opening with a lively setting of Moira O’ Neil’s The Grand Match, then continuing pensively with Stephen Gwynn’s To My Homeland in which Bax’s love of Irish culture was first manifest. Two settings of ‘Fiona Macleod’ (aka William Sharp) – the evocative Leaves, Shadows and Dreams, then the (would-be) heroics of Viking-Battle-Song – precede a ravishing take on Percy Shelley’s I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden, before The Twa Corbies finds Bax experimenting (not always successfully) with recitation in this traditional text. Two further settings of Macleod – the poised elegance of Longing, then the searching inwardness of From the Hills of Dream – lead on to this composer’s only treatment of a text in Danish, that of Landskab (Landscape) by Jens Peter Jacobsen, whose three manuscripts imply syntactical problems never adequately resolved despite the music’s gentle eloquence.

Bax set four texts by William Morris, among which the warmly expressive Marguerite went (surprisingly) unheard until now. The sombre symbolism of Conrad Ferdinand Meyer’s Das tote Kind is underplayed despite being in the original German, and two rondels by Geoffrey Chaucer – the wistful charm of Welcome, Somer then deft humour of Of her Mercy – exude sentiments to which he is more attuned. This is even more evident in A Leader, a setting of George Russell’s poem that underlines Bax’s emotional involvement with those issues and persons of Ireland’s ill-fated Easter Uprising that ranks among the composer’s finest songs. Few are likely to prefer his dogged setting of Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s The Splendour Falls to that by Britten (or the Delius part-song), whereas the traditional Le Chant d’Isabeau has appealing winsomeness. A Rabelaisian Catechism is a salacious take on another traditional text, with a little help from Vaughan Williams and Wagner, while Carrey Clavel matches Thomas Hardy’s wry observation of scorned love to a tee and makes for a delightful close.

Does it all work?

Most of the time. Almost from the outset, Bax was an inventive but also interventionist setter of texts, such that the poet’s sentiments are not necessarily those conveyed in his songs. This might explain why he increasingly eschewed the genre once he had found his true metier in orchestral and chamber media, so that there are very few songs from the mid-1920s onwards. That said, the literary range of what Bax did set as well as the expressive range of his settings ensures his contribution is a notable one and is enhanced by those songs featured on this disc.

Is it recommended?

Yes, not least through the advocacy of Jeremy Huw Williams whose unstinting advocacy is underpinned by Paula Fan’s perceptive accompaniment. The extensive booklet notes are by the Bax authority Graham Parlett, to whose memory this release is appropriately dedicated.

Listen and Buy

To listen to excerpts from this disc and view purchase options, visit the EM Records website. To read more about Arnold Bax, visit his dedicated composer website, and for more on the performers, click on the names of Jeremy Huw Williams and Paula Fan. Finally for more information on the English Music Festival, click here

On record – Hebrides Ensemble – Ursa Minor: Chamber Music by Stuart MacRae (Delphian)

macrae

Joshua Ellicott (tenor), Marcus Farnsworth (baritone) / Hebrides Ensemble / William Conway (cello)

Stuart MacRae
I am Prometheus (2018); Dark Liquid (2020); Ixion (2013); cladonia bellidiflora (2014, rev. 2020); Tol-Pedn (1999); Lento in memoriam Peter Maxwell Davies (2016); Ursa Minor (2020); fthinoporinos (2001); Diversion (The room behind the room behind the room) (2020); Parable (2013)

Delphian DCD34258 [76’46”]

Producer / Engineer Paul Baxter

Recorded 12-14 August 2021, Queen’s Hall, Edinburgh

Written by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

A timely follow-up to the NMC release of 15 years ago, this Delphian collection surveys over two decades of Stuart MacRae’s output – indicative of a personal and incrementally evolving idiom such as reaffirms his status among the leading European composers of his generation.

What’s the music like?

Most substantial is Ixion, the luckless figure from Greek mythology represented in a sequence of eight ‘moments’ where the motifs heard at the start variously combine and evolve without any underlying progress – as befits the motion of an endlessly rotating wheel. A fine addition to the repertoire for clarinet trio, as is cladonia bellidiflora for the even more restricted one of violin and cello as it gradually fuses these instruments into an inextricable, lichen-like entity. Inspired by a Cornish headland and alluding to Byrd, the early Tol-Pedn conjures a seascape the more potent for its eschewal of mere realism, whereas the recent Ursa Minor evokes that constellation in comparable terms of incrementally accruing change – amply reinforcing the consistency of MacRae’s musical idiom whatever those developments that have taken place.

A further side of MacRae’s creativity is here conveyed by the shorter pieces. Emerging out of lockdown, Dark Liquid reimagines the valedictory bagatelle associated with Silvestrov, while Diversion has a capricious or even insouciant playfulness. Lento in memoriam Peter Maxwell Davies evokes that composer’s lesser-known piano miniatures in poignantly restrained terms, while fthinoporinos (Greek for ‘autumnal’) is a transcription of the second movement from MacRae’s Violin Concerto (recorded on NMCD115) and an eloquent memorial to Xenakis.

Framing this collection are two vocal works. I am Prometheus uses the composer’s own text to evoke the Titan, neither Man nor God but invested with those attributes – whether good or bad – of both, while he endures a punishment meted out for what MacRae aptly describes as ‘‘his exceptionalism’’. Unfolding from the anger of captivity to the hopelessness of solitude, its musical trajectory is as arresting as it is inevitable – which might also be said of Parable. This stark setting of Wilfred Owen’s poem is appreciably different from that of Britten in the ‘Offertorium’ of his War Requiem, not least in the way the vocal part threads its way through an ensemble where the range of gestures affords a graphic evocation of the biblical story and its fateful ‘distortion’: one whose outcome can only be the collapse into mindless repetition.

Does it all work?

Yes, through MacRae’s imaginative response to the subject-matter at hand as well as an acute sense of timbre and texture in whatever context. It helps when the performances are so finely attuned, a reminder of the close working association between this composer and the Hebrides Ensemble. The contributions from Joshua Ellicott and Marcus Farnsworth are no less ‘inside’ their respective pieces, while the recording is fully up to Delphian’s customary high standard. Nor are the annotations by Tim Ruthford-Johnson found wanting in perceptiveness or insight.

Is it recommended?

Indeed, in the hope further releases of MacRae’s music from this source will be forthcoming. Maybe one or other of the operas that have dominated the composer’s output in recent years will become available on DVD? In the meantime, this Delphian portrait is required listening.

Listen

Buy

For more information on the disc you can visit the Delphian website – and to buy visit the Presto website To read more on the artists, click on the names of Joshua Ellicott, Marcus Farnsworth, Hebrides Ensemble and William Conway. Meanwhile a site dedicated to Stuart MacRae can be accessed here

On Record – Flock: Flock (Strut Records)

flock

written by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

The music for Flock was recorded all on one day, 27 August 2020, at The Fish Factory in London. It was the culmination of a project overseen by multi-instrumentalist Bex Burch, band leader of Vula Viel. She assembled a group of five musicians to respond to texts she had written as scores, as a basis for improvisation – or ‘murmuration’, as she described.

Her partners in the project were Sarathy Korwar (drums and tabla), Dan ‘Danalogue’ Leavers (fender rhodes, roland juno-60, upright piano and roland SH-09 bass synth) Al MacSween (prepared piano, piano, Moog sub37) and Tamar Osborn (bass clarinet, flute, soprano saxophone and EHX deluxe memory boy). Burch assigned herself a wide variety of instruments, credited for contributions on gyil, vibraphone, bass drum, shakers, bells, gong, snake drum and electronics.

What’s the music like?

Instinctive, to put it mildly – but fascinating, atmospheric and intense. The key here is that the improvisations are focused, especially the 13 minutes and 35 seconds of It’s Complicated, and even the slightly longer, hypnotic How many are one? The musical chemistry between the players is striking, and it says a lot that with a track such as Prepare to let go, led by Korwar on foreground percussion, there is still plenty of room for each line to make itself heard. This one in particular is led equally by him on tabla and percussion but also by the insistent, jagged groove at the lower end of proceedings, with some intriguing electronics going on up top. My resonance is another track where the ensemble gel seamlessly, the melodies colourfully distributed and developed.

The keyboards are economically used, and the dynamics are carefully managed, and the percussion detailed but providing much of the backbone. Tracks like Bold dream become rituals, with energetic and almost trancey figures in the half light. There is humour in this track, too, the performers laughing at the way it peters out – nicely caught in the recording.

The icing on the cake, however, are Tamar Osborn’s contributions on woodwind. The combination of bass clarinet and keyboards is wonderfully spooky as Sounds welcome takes shape, the atmospherics like a leftfield detective series. Gradually the track blossoms into a richer, mellow mid-range, where the mournful tones of the saxophone are complemented with percussion and keys.

The bass clarinet begins It’s complicated with an Eastern flavoured soliloquy, a fascinating solo that gradually climbs in pitch and volume as the other instruments join, rising to a tumult of percussion and a rush of noise. The storm quickly abates, the intensity sinking back to a held drone and more clarinet ruminations, before a minimal exchange of ideas takes hold.

Some of the timbres the group secure are fascinating. What purpose has a mellow flute and sedentary piano complementing each other, set against more spatial electronics,

Does it all work?

Yes. The results are electric at times as the players bounce off each other, and it is fascinating listening to a one-off experience, where things go in unexpected directions at times but where the changing colours and moods are compelling.

Is it recommended?

Enthusiastically. This is an improvised gathering of white hot intensity, and the results are consistently compelling. Even if such projects prove daunting to you musically, you are encouraged to listen to Flock, for they make extremely rewarding music.

Stream

Buy

Switched On – Gold Panda – I’ve Felt Better (Than I Do Now)

by Ben Hogwood. Picture of Gold Panda by Laura Lewis

Here is some news to cheer up a Tuesday – the very welcome return of Gold Panda.

Its title is deceptive, and makes perfect sense when you get a sense of what the producer, aka Derwin Schlecker, has been through. “I made this when my daughter was two years old and I felt knackered and I’d turned 41”, he says. “The samples just came together and sounded like “I’ve felt better…” and at the same time I was looking at my anti-depressants feeling tired and just thought ‘ha, that’s right!’”

Describing the track, Derwin says, “I mess with chopping up samples until I get an interesting loop so I never set out to write a track; I’m led by the samples and then go from there. Funnily enough, my life now is actually way better than it was 10 years ago and I’m a bit healthier and I probably actually do feel better in general (apart from when I had that brain haemorrhage last year).”

With everything now in perspective, it proves easy to appreciate the summer haziness and hypnotic grooves applied to the track – which you can enjoy right here!


The Unfolding is out now on City Slang, and comes highly recommended! You can listen and purchase on the Bandcamp link below: