Composer of the Week: Peter Reynolds

Peter Reynolds is a highly regarded Cardiff-based composer who has been programmed a number of times by Late Music. He is also a writer on music, a part-time member of staff at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama and Composer-in-Residence for Young Composer of Dyfed. His songs Adieu to all alluring toys will be performed in the next LM recital (Saturday 4th August) by Paul Carey Jones (baritone) and Ian Ryan (piano).

Steve Crowther: Peter, I thought that Adieu to all alluring toys was such a captivating title that we chose it as a tag line for the concert itself! Where did it come from?

Peter Reynolds: I’ve been interested in inscriptions on church memorials for sometime now, particularly the ones from the eighteenth century. On one level, many of them are no more than doggerel, but they also have a sincerity and innocence that is very moving. Two of the epitaphs I’ve used are written to the memory of small children whilst another warns of the inevitability of our mortality. They are innocent, naïve and sentimental, but the words nonetheless are full of light, optimism and even humour, far removed from our more recent view of mortality. It is these qualities that the music seeks to capture; it’s a difficult balancing act, particularly in a culture where irony is so much a part of our way of expressing ourselves. So, to answer your question, the title is simply a line taken from one of these inscriptions, which I collected from a tiny country church in Breconshire. It appears in the first of the three settings that make up the piece. Although they’re being issued as part of Paul’s new CD on the Meridian label of contemporary British song, I tend to think of the piece as a short cantata in the eighteenth century sense of the word.

SC: Can you describe the process of setting them?

PR: Like, I suspect, a lot of composers, I used to be very highly structured in my approach to composition, but these days I am more interested in a more spontaneous approach. So, much of the music was set down in quite a free way over about a period of six months, but then gradually sculpted into the final result. There were recently some fascinating talks in the Radio 3 series, The Essay, on creativity in middle age (which, I suppose, is where I find myself now). One of the contributors, the writer Frances Fyfield, defined artists as either working from the inside-out or the outside-in. I suppose I belong to the outside-in camp: hacking away to discover the shape beneath.

SC: Do you write at the piano, do you sing during the compositional process?

PR: Most of my work is done at my desk, though I do use the piano to check harmony and the like. One of the advantages (and there aren’t many) of being a lousy pianist, is that one is thrown back on one’s internal musical imagination, rather than composing through improvisation (though there’s nothing wrong with that). I also craft all my music on paper, and do not use music software. This is a deliberate decision: it slows me down and makes me consider more carefully what I write. I remember that Morton Feldman used to say that copying out his music in different drafts brought him closer to the material.

SC: Is it important to know the performers? Do you write with a voice in mind?

PR: Yes, I think that it’s crucial to either know the performers or to have some sense of the occasion or space for which the piece is being composed; I’m totally at one with Britten’s views on this. These days I find it virtually impossible to start writing unless I know these things. For me music doesn’t exist until it’s performed. 

SC: How would you describe your individual ‘sound world’?

PR: This is the question that every composer dreads and, without being coy about it, I don’t really think I know. Obviously, one becomes aware of (or friends remark on) certain technical or stylistic traits, but I feel that it’s better not to get caught up with consciously identifying these. But there are things that have become apparent to me, particularly in the last five years during which there has been quite a change in my music. I’ve finally discovered that I really don’t enjoy working on large-scale forms (though most of the music I love most is composed in those forms): I prefer far more to work on a small canvas: eight minutes is now a long piece from my point of view. 

I also like to work with very simple material and to expand and shape it quite organically. I’ve increasingly rejected systematic forms and techniques and like to spend a lot of time considering the work and revising it before it goes to performance (though this isn’t always possible).  

SC: What motivates you to compose? 

PR: Well, it’s the only job really worth doing and as things never match up to one’s expectations, it becomes a life-long search to try and achieve that unachievable perfection.

SC: Which living composers do you identify with or simply admire?

PR: I find that I tend to identify more with makers working in other media these days, like Richard Long for instance, rather than the contemporary music circus, but the kind of composers I identify with would probably include people like Howard Skempton or Laurence Crane. 

SC: If you could have a beer and a chat with any composer from the past, who would it be and why?

PR: I always regret never having met Michael Tippett, although I often heard him speak or saw him from a distance at concerts. I admire him for his humanity, his ability to put music in a much wider context than just music. 

SC: Now for some desert island discery – please name eight pieces of music you could not be without, and then select just one.

PR: This is so difficult and one’s choice changes from week to week, day to day, but this morning it would be: 

Fuweles in the frith (anonymous – 1280s or 90s)

Brumel: Gloria (from the Earthquake Mass)

Haydn: Symphony No.22 (Philosopher)

Bach: Cantata No.151. Süsser Trost, mein Jesus kommt

Wagner: Parsifal

Busoni: Berceuse élégiaque

Stravinsky: Symphonies of Wind Instrument

Feldman: Piano & String Quartet

The piece from these that I’d choose would be Fuweles in the frith. Written in the thirteenth century, it’s a bare two-part vocal piece of the utmost simplicity and timelessness, lasting about two minutes. We have no idea who composed it and it doesn’t matter: it’s the kind condition to which I feel all people making things should aspire.

SC: …and a book?

PR: In Parenthesis by David Jones

SC: Film?

PR: Almost anything by Ingmar Bergman

SC: … and a luxury item?

PR: A real summer?  

SC: Amen to that. Peter Reynolds, thank you

www.composersofwales.org/member.php?ID=141

Celebrating Michael Nyman

Stop the clocks, we have a live ‘un! Michael Nyman is the current BBC Composer of the Week (Radio Three, 12.00 – 1.00pm)

Michael Nyman is best known for his collaborations with film director Peter Greenaway, producing groundbreaking movies such as The Draughtman’s Contract and The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover. Yet his most popular score was written for Jane Campion’s magnificent film, The Piano. Critical response to this score was divided, yet the soundtrack cd has sold over three million copies. So I don’t think he will be over bothered.

Nyman’s output is massive, embracing opera (The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat, Facing Goya), five string quartets, various concertos and songs to name but a few of the genres.

It was Michael Nyman who invented the word ‘minimalism’ to describe a new sound world of new music in the late 1960’s.

He has worked with Sir Harrison Birtwistle, writing the libretto for Down By The Greenwood Side and Damon Albarn, co-writing the score for the 1999 film Ravenous.

His music often draws from the past, but reinvents it in his own distinctive, inimitable style. There is a ‘Nyman’ sound: energetic, physical, driven, repetitive and invariably positive. One comes away from a Michael Nyman Band gig sated, it is like a rock concert, a real musical experience.

Late Music has programmed Michael Nyman in the past and will continue to do so in the future. He is, surely, a worthy ‘composer of the week’.

Steve

P.S. which football team does he support?

How would you describe ‘classical’ music?

Is ‘classical’ music art, serious, legitimate, concert or erudite music? (Wikipedia)

Or is it about perception?

“I call it pretty music but the old people call it the blues” – ‘Little’ Stevie Wonder

A couple of years ago some research showed that there is a large number of people who attend ‘cultural’ activities but regard classical music as ‘one step too far’. Why?

“It’s not for us” As classical music is the art music rooted in the traditions of Western music, in the broad period from the 11th century to present times, I’d argue that it’s actually for all of us. Like any artform, the work can be studied, investigated and researched – if that’s what you want to do. But you can also just enjoy it with no special study. I do.

“It’s hard to take in new music” True, up to a point. Sometimes some new piece of music is just immediately right. (For me, two examples: Ray Charles ‘What’d I Say’ and John Adams ‘Grand Pianola Music’).

“I get classical, but I’m not sure what contemporary classical music is” The term ‘contemporary music’ is sometimes used to describe music composed in the late 20th century through to the present day. Our definition is music by living composers, which means a lot of new music!

Because of the unfamiliarity of this work, we’ve selected a pool of composers who will be regularly programmed, backed up by examples of their music on our website. We’ll be adding examples of their work regularly through the year – from our previous concerts and from the ones this year. Keep an ear out.

“I’m not sure what to do at classical concerts” A starting point is to have a look at another blog of ours ‘Overcoming the constraints of tradition’ which, we hope, answers some of the new concertgoers concerns.

“It’s too expensive” Often true, but you only really find that out after you’ve been! We have set a price of £10 for all concerts, reduced to £8 for the usual concessions. We also have a student rate of £3. We are able to do this because of the financial support that we receive from our sponsors (all listed on our website www.latemusic.org).

Back to Little Stevie: what we or you call it is not important. It’s if you like it.

Songs Now – British Songs of the 21st Century

Songs Now CD Launch at Late Music.
Saturday 4th August 2012

In the last ten years or so, I have been noticing a gradual but perceptible increase in both the quantity and the quality of songs being written by British composers. I am not sure why this is. However, in recent decades, the influence of the European avant-garde has receded, the influence of rock music has become ever stronger and British composers seem to have become more at ease with stylistic diversity as well as with their own national musical heritage. I suspect that these factors have all played a part in creating circumstances that are more favourable for songwriting than have existed for some time.

In 2007, a few of us discussed this and decided to form the short-lived 21st Century Song Project. Several new song cycles were written for this including four that appear on this CD – Power, Armstrong Whalley and Crowther. The strength of these songs further convinced me things were moving in this direction. However, we found it difficult to secure funding and were only able to deliver two concerts.

In 2009, the NMC label released their excellent quadruple Songbook CD, featuring songs by over 100 composers. The release of this CD prompted discussions in the national media about the possibility of a revival of British Song. This seemed a good omen and made me more determined than even to do a significant song project. The previous year – 2008 – I had formed the Grimsby St Hughs Festival. The aims of this Festival are to bring professional classical music concerts to North East Lincolnshire and to programme and promote new music that is relatively accessible but has a 21st century ‘sensibility’, so to speak. Now, inspired by the NMC songbook, I decided to devote a day of the Festival to 20th and 21st Century British song.

The Song Day took place at Grimsby Minster on Saturday 25th September 2010 and comprised three recitals – soprano and piano, tenor and piano and baritone and piano – and an excellent talk on British song by Peter Reynolds. Each concert was an approximately equal mix of early 20th century songs and 21st century ones. Moreover, we did our best to programme some of the very finest composers of 20th century songs and the recitals included works by Britten, Warlock, Quilter, Walton, W Denis Browne (a stunning songwriter who is ridiculously under-rated), Bridge, Finzi, Gurney and Butterworth. The 21st century songs included a generous amount of the songs on this CD. We even had an audience vote – just a bit of fun really – as to whether people preferred the 20th or 21st century music and the 21st century stuff won by 8%! One person wrote that he preferred the 21st century stuff ‘even though’ he was born in 1936!

The songday was so successful that there was a widespread feeling that we should not leave it at that but, rather, capture the new songs on CD. Funding from the Arts Council and the Festival’s reserves made this possible and we were delighted when Meridian agreed to release the CD. The CD was certainly a joy to make. The performers, the composers, the engineer and the staff at the National Centre for Early Music in York – where the CD was recorded – and at Meridian Records have all been a pleasure to work with. This is, of course a tribute to their absolute professionalism. However, I think it is also due to their belief – expressed several times to me – that, with this CD, we were all working on something a little bit special.

I am delighted that we will be launching the Songs Now CD at the August 2012 Late Music concert. All the tracks on the CD will be included in the concert. This is the full track listing for the CD which will be available at the Late Music Concert Series, all good classical music record shops and from the Meridian website http://www.meridian-records.co.uk/

This is the full track listing

Songs Now – British Songs of the 21st Century

Paul Carey Jones – baritone
Ian Ryan – piano

David Power Eight Evening Songs.

Tom Armstrong Opened Spaces.

David Lancaster Memory of Place.

Richard Whalley Six Songs of Old Japanese Wisdom.

Peter Reynolds Adieu to all Alluring Toys.

Steve Crowther Songs for Don.

William Rhys Meek Winter is a Slow Death Waiting.

Michael Parkin Three Songs.

David Power

June concert: Guest review by Lauren Redhead

The Late Music concert on 2nd June should have been given by pianist Rika Zayasu, but she was unfortunately caused to cancel at very late notice. However, British pianist Ian Pace stepped in with less than a week to go before the concert, and the audience were not disappointed. I have known Ian Pace to be an exciting and virtuosic performer; one who is able to create contemporary interpretations of older works, shedding new light on them, as well as an accomplished performer and promoter of some of the most difficult, intricate, and innovative piano works of the twentieth and twenty first centuries. Despite the programme for the 2nd June not comprising Pace’s usual repertoire choices, it did offer a number of opportunities for him to display his considerable pianistic skill: from the fast and detailed passages of Steve Crowther’s Piano Suite and Michael Parkin’s Preludes and Fugues 1-4 to the texturally and timbrally rich North American Ballads by Frederic Rzewski, the music was varied throughout the evening. What is further to Pace’s credit is that he was able to deliver such an exciting and engaging performance of these works, including the world premieres of Crowther’s and Parkin’s works, having received the music at only 3 days notice.

Despite their being composed over a period of 40 years, it would be hard to give dates or a timeline to the pieces showcased in the concert. All of the works had a relationship with history, both through direct quotation, allusion to other music, and a pronounced relationship with the pianistic tradition of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The composers themselves made several such links in their programme notes (Bach, Beethoven, Finnissy, and blues traditions were all mentioned), and yet others were clearly audible in performance. As such, the programme made clear that the historical piano tradition is still alive in contemporary composition and performance. The strength of this, of course, is that the programme was extremely accessible, even to audiences who do not regularly attend contemporary music; this was also clear since the small church was nearly full. By making links such as these, Late Music should hope to continue to draw new audiences to contemporary music in the future.

The highlights for me were Judith Weir’s surprising The King of France which made a link with mediaeval crusading music. Having an interest in such music myself, I was keen to see how such a relationship could be handled in equal temperament. Weir succeeded in making this link through distinct and separate instrumental timbres between sections, and frequent use of the lower range of the piano, adding an almost percussive layer to the piece. Frederic Rzewski’s North American Ballads were quite obviously a highlight for most of the audience as well as me. A now well-known work from the American minimalist canon, the piece combines pianistic skill, well known quotation, intricate harmony and full use of the range and sonority of the piano. Pace’s performance brought out all of the details and contrasts of the four movements, avoiding the possibility of their becoming nostalgic. Of the other works, Peter Sculthorpe’s compositions sat least well with me. His miniatures owed a clear debt to Debussy, but his handling of this relationship made his work seem the least contemporary of the programme. It is, of course, probably unfair to compare the works of all of the other composers with Rzewski’s minimalist triumph, but such a fantastic end to the concert colours the memory of what has gone before it.

Whilst the range and accessibility of the programme is clearly a strong point, one slightly negative aspect of the evening for me was the discursive relationship with accessibility that was presented. The pre-concert talk, by Steve Crowther and Edward Caine (whose sparse piece Two Poems opened the concert), brought up the idea of “complexity for its own sake” which both composers spoke strongly against, perhaps to highlight that they believed the evening’s music to be accessible where other music was not. In addition, the programme note for Arvo Pärt’s work Für Alina clearly situated his tintinnabuli style as being not just a move away from his serialism of the 1960s but an improvement on it. To me this seems to be an uncritical relationship with a large body of music, and while this particular programme could be said to have many obvious links with older music, it also seems to be a useful way to introduce new audiences to the huge range of contemporary piano music written in the last 50 or so years; much of this music may have less obvious links with an historical tradition, of course, but that is not to say that it is complex for merely the sake of complexity.

However, despite this slight downside for me, the performance received a deserved warm and enthusiastic response from the audience. Ian Pace has a continuing relationship with Late Music, so anyone who missed out this time will surely have the opportunity to hear him again at the concert series in the future, and on the basis of this performance that would be highly recommended.