Thursday, 27 June 2024

The Kreutzer Effect: Edward Cowie

The context of this new CD of music by Edward Cowie is his long-running collaboration with the Kreutzer Quartet. Over the past decade they have recorded the composer’s first six string quartets, as well as participating in several solo and duo works. The String Quartet No.7 (“Western Australia”) was written with the talents of the Kreutzer in mind. In addition, Cowie has produced four “portrait pieces” dedicated to each member of the ensemble. It does not state when these four pieces were composed. I am guessing that it would be around the same time as the Quartet, 2017.

I acknowledge the extensive liner notes which I have mined in the preparation of this review.

The CD opens with Glaukopis described as “Five Atmospheric Nocturnes for Athena.” The title derives from the Homeric name for the goddess of wisdom and war, Athene, but may also refer to the Greek phrase for owl-faced or owl-eyed. Written for solo cello, this suite “places five distinct species of European and British owls in their own typical dusk and nocturnal habitats. These may be dark and brooding woods; sparse and remote moorland; jade and black shaded conifer forest or the open pastures of farmland fields and meadows.”

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.” 

Track Listing:
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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