Classical Explorations — January 2024
INTRODUCTION
For a while I’ve had the idea to share thoughts and explorations of the music I’m listening to. Streaming platforms have such a lot but how can we find what we are looking for? In an age of being able to listen so freely, I wanted to share with you some of my musical explorations. Please do leave comments in the comments section below with links to the music you are listening to – I want to go on exploring with you! In the last Friday of each month, I’ll create a Spotify playlist with some thoughts on the pieces I’ve included. You don’t have to read the notes of course, but they do explain why I’ve included them. Listen and read or just listen (but don’t just read, that’s boring!).
Dream colored Mobile II was a discovery I made a few years back, listening to the music of both Yoshimatsu and Takemitsu – two Japanese composers worth spending time with. Film music, Broadway and America are important strands in the development of Japanese classical music in the Twentieth and Twenty-first Centuries. The piece opens with delicate harp whispers with luscious strings in close harmony, one wonders what the centre stage will be. A plaintive, sustained oboe weaves a song always ending on pedal notes with more lush harmonies from the strings. The oboe playing in particular is fine – the sustained nature is realised with great warmth and sensitivity, expertly accompanied by the Manchester Camerata conducted by Sachio Fujioka.
Lacrimosa
Arturs Maskats is a composer I only discovered last year (2023) and was delighted to listen to this whole album along with My River Runs to Thee (see more below on this playlist). As an organist myself (with a particular expertise in liturgical music), I’ve heard a lot of works on texts I know well – the Lacrimosa being one. The harmonic language is superb: the dramatic twists from the organ, especially at the climactic moments, are really quiet something. There is biting harmony to heighten the drama, characteristics I can compare with Maurice Duruflé.
Child of the Wandering Sea
This year I’ve done a lot of shouting about Chromosphere (my new album) on social media in particular, but I wanted to take some time to write about one piece in a more personal way – the last track on the album: Child of the Wandering Sea. My friend and colleague Chris Hussey is a brilliantly inventive with harmony and orchestration – which are heard marvellously in this piece. The soft whisperings at the opening are like a stream of consciousness, always leading you on from one line to another with gorgeous harmonies. The pulsing heartbeat from the second section might give the initial impression of a minimalistic texture, but the repeated rhythmic canvas gives the work an urgent, hypnotic and agitated quality with all its gripping drama. The harmonies I hear are not so dissimilar to the Yoshimatsu, but further developed with brooding melodies and countermelodies. This is music of mature storytelling and like a good book, you can’t skip a couple of chapters and delve back in. Spend a bit of time to go on that journey – the rewards are great.
A Flock Descends on the Pentagonal Garden
Looking at the second of my two Japanese choices is Takemitsu’s A Flock Descends on the Pentagonal Garden, an intense piece with very rich harmony, coloured by quite bold wind and brass interjections. Contrasted by these interjections are soft whispering of low flutes and bubbling bassoons, often cleverly outlined with the more rhythmic plucking of harp notes. Ever searching lines are contrasted with bursts of chord clusters, reminiscent of Messian. The subtle shifts in orchestration give a shimmering, ethereal feel.
Just as I am
Stephen Hough will be well known to many as a concert pianist, but it is less known that he is a composer, sometimes playing his own works at concerts. I have followed his career for a long time, a generous man so I was delighted to see this release in 2023. The soaring lines feel very natural, underpinned by a tonal and sometimes bluesy feel. The sense of building in the melodic lines at the opening are augmented towards a conclusion of pin-it-to-the-back-wall intensity, accompanied very sensitively by the organ.
Mäßig Bewegt featuring s/qu/nc/r is a curious piece which certainly could be considered to be ‘crossover’. I stumbled across it when listening to some other electronic music and became hooked by the amount of detail – classical detail – which blew me away. Recordings of real instruments in a mashup with samples of other instruments, sound effects, all with a moving harmonic agenda. I know this will push some peoples listening boundaries – but I say give it a try. There are lots of similarities with the construction of minimalist textures, but here with a much greater depth of timbre given the electronic intervention. Judging by the playlist figures (well over one million), its clearly a massive hit but with who I wonder – it is nether electronic nor classical. Nevertheless, it’s a thought provoking track/piece!
Cantus Arcticus is a piece which holds great memories as I have conducted it on more than one occasion. This orchestral piece incorporates tape recordings of birdsong recorded near the Arctic Circle, and on the bogs of Liminka, in northern Finland. The Finnish composer Einojuhani Rautavaara has written some really complex and interesting music including eight symphonies (the Symphony No.7 – Angel of Light being a particular favourite!) but it is this piece, subtitled Concerto for Birds and Orchestra, it combines sounds of the natural world with rich post-Romantic gestures. In this final movement (Swans Migrating), the music is a long crescendo with a sweeping and immotive melody to accompany the sound of whooper swans. After a huge climax, both birdsong and orchestra fade into the distance. Magic.
My River Runs to Thee (Homage to Emily Dickinson) is the second piece in this playlist I want to feature by Arturs Maskats. I discovered the music of Arturs Maskats when I visited the Riga in November 2023 and wanted to see if there was any live music. Alas there were no live events when I visited, but I researched a little and found some rather wonderful recordings made with the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra and their celebrated Latvian composer, Arturs Maskats. Building on my earlier notes here about his wonderful Lacrimosa, I was really taken by this wonderful piece with a wandering tonal centre, driving rhythms and an amazing sense of narrative – not so dissimilar to the language of Rachmaninov in his orchestral writing. There are occasions when I hear contemporary music and I feel the need to get in touch with the composer, even if I do not know them – which I did in this case. Arturs Maskats had said the work was extremely important and close to his heart because it is dedicated to the memory of a close friend.
Dark Night of the Soul by Ola Gjeilo stuck me as being quite different to much of the choral repertoire. I rather like to listen to works for instruments or groups of ensembles which the composers aren’t known for – it can certainly bring a sense of exploration and a new voice. Dark Night of the Soul offers intense and dramatic exchanges between choir, piano and string quartet. The piano in places sounds improvised and adds a rawness to the treatment of the medieval text. The driving motor rhythms are rather exciting – no serene choral backdrops here!
To finish I wanted to share this short but utterly haunting sound of O Adonai by Arvo Pärt. The sound quality of the counter tenor and wind instruments is deeply enriching. The sense of ensemble is tight, and the balance is perfectly judged. I hope you enjoy listening to this as much as I have done – it is a wonderful way to close my playlist.
Thanks for listening and reading. Please do send feedback by leaving a comment below on the recordings I’ve covered or ones you’d like to see next month!
And finally, if you are interested, there are two permanent wind music playlists on my website: https://www.shealolin.co.uk/my-playlists-blog