I acknowledge the extensive liner
notes which I have mined in the preparation of this review.
The first movement explores the
Little Owl which carries the name Athene Noctua. Moving then to the Tawny
Owl (Strix aluco) and then short-eared (Asio
flammeus) and long-eared owls, (Asio otus) the suite ends with the barn owl (Tyto
alba).
Cowie states that “All of these
avian and mythological characteristics are evoked in this suite for cello.”
They are not studies of birdsong, in the sense of Olivier Messiaen, but are
intended to exploit the “colour and phrase” resources of the cello, which
include a wide range of “dynamic and expressive techniques.” That said, there
are some “screeches” which may be a direct representation of the owls. It is an
ear-catching work that is successful in creating a numinous and nocturnal
atmosphere.
Ever since reading about Daedalus and Icarus in primary school days (it was probably a bowdlerised edition of Ovid), I have enjoyed the story of the father and son’s escape from imprisonment in Crete. By using wings, they fly high above the Aegean Sea. Despite his dad’s warning Icarus flies higher and higher towards the sun. Sadly, the wax is melted, and the lad falls into the ocean. A wonderful tale. This myth is often interpreted as exploring the pitfalls of excessive ambition.
Edward Cowie has used this fable
as the starting point for an “aria for solo viola and about global warming” (I
did think it was nowadays referred to as Climate Change). The musical symbolism
is obvious: starting with the lowest note a viola can play the music climbs slowly ever higher by way of “a
progress-by-variation.” The ultimate moral of the work is that it turns
out “that Icarus is the entire human race. In wishing to progress and rise, our
species approaches a point of self-destruction-a world-once-noisy left without
the ‘sounds of life.’” One could counter this philosophy by suggesting that
humankind may be able to get itself out of the mess by its determination and
ingenuity - if it so chooses.
If you like vocalisation, screams and mutterings, the use of
a metronome as a prop and disjointed, hard edged, violin music, then On Second
Fiddle is just the number for you. I found it challenging to say the least. I
am sure that Mihailo Trandafilovski (violin) gives it his best shot. The
allusion in the title refers to the fact that this member of the quartet plays Second
Violin.
I found the Menurida Variants longwinded. At thirteen
minutes for a solo violin piece, it demands more concentration than many
listeners may be prepared to commit to. Once again there are vocal noises off
which add nothing to the sometimes-beautiful violin “melodies” and passage
work. Based on Cowie’s response to the “song” of the Australian Lyrebird. He records
“The sky was fast altering from jade shadows and indigo darkness into bronze
and fiery copper and red dawn light. It was at this hinterland between night
and day that a solitary Lyrebird began his grand cadenzas on the sonatas of the
night. So magnificent; so complex; so virtuosic and rich was this song that I
doubted I could ever compose something that would evoke (not imitate) the magic
of that morning.” Whether he achieves this is up to the hearer to decide. For
me, he does, but with the above-mentioned caveats.
The String Quartet No.7 (“Western Australia”) was finished
in 2017, after what Cowie calls a “mind blowing three weeks exploring (north)
Western Australia.” He was impressed by a constant flow of new life forms and
vistas as he travelled. This suggested to him the “possibility of music that
travels and mutates.” He continues by explaining that the musical progress
evolved in a continuous line, but “also of ‘places’ (musical passages), where
it is necessary to stop and explore the intricacies and complexity of form at
each pausing place.” This sense of forward momentum with pauses informs the
first movement - The Road of Flowers. The middle movement, Hamelin Pool – Shark
Bay is a subtle balance between “movement and stasis.” It is a meditation on
the acrobatic displays of birds, the “Blue on blue horizons” of the seascape, and
the 3,500-million-year-old algae found there. The music coruscates and
sparkles, before dissolving into the ether. It is the mysterious Pinnacles: Nambung
National Park that informs the final movement. (Look them up on Google: they
are amazing). This site was sacred to the Aboriginal community. Cowie considers
the multitude of shapes apparent in these natural sculptures. The music
reflects these ever-evolving shapes, with the movement ending in a shimmer of
light before dying to ‘niente.’
The thorough liner notes are written by Edward Cowie, with additional material from members of the Quartet. There are the usual biographical details of all concerned. The booklet is illustrated with photographs of the recording session, the composer, and the quartet. The evocative cover painting was created by Heather Cowie. The recording is splendid. And the performance is clearly formidable.
Summing up, I did not enjoy On Second Fiddle or the Menurida
Variants. I was impressed with Icarus and the Glaukopis. But the highlight of
this CD is the String Quartet No.7. It is a splendid and often moving portrayal
of “the ever-changing landscapes and intricate ecosystems of Western Australia,
inviting listeners on a transformative journey through time and space.”
Edward Cowie (b.1943)
Glaukopis
Whatever happened to Icarus?
One Second Fiddle
Menurida Variants
String Quartet No.7 (“Western Australia”)
The Kreutzer Quartet: Peter Sheppard Skærved (violin), Mihailo Trandafilovski (violin), Clifton Harrison (viola), Neil Heyde (cello)
rec. 7 June 2022 (String Quartet No.7); 28 June 2022 (One Second Fiddle & Glaukopis); 19 February 2023 (Menurida Variants); 21 June 2023 (Whatever happened to Icarus), Hastoe Village Hall, Tring, Hertfordshire.
Métier MEX 77103
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