Anyone who still thinks that there is a preferred ‘official’ contemporary music style in the UK ought to listen to this release. The two tracks, composed in 2022, are the artistic outcomes of the Royal Philharmonic Society composers’ programme for which the two featured composers were paired with the Philharmonia Orchestra. Both composers developed pieces over a ten-month period with the orchestra and conductor Darren Bloom. While the Philharmonia regularly includes contemporary music in its programmes, this is hardly its principal focus and neither of these pieces would slot easily into a traditional orchestral programme (my computer unhelpfully suggests ‘unknown genre’ for both). The CDs issued as a result of the academy are more like tasters to introduce us to the composers in question than a carefully curated programme designed to be listened to in one sitting.
The most obvious thing to say about the tracks on this CD is that they are, to say the least, extremely different in style; about the only things they have in common are that they are written by composer-performers based in the UK and are just over ten minutes long. Bloom conducts and the members of the Philharmonia featured in the ensemble are not credited by name in the booklet. And it would appear that both composers, Ayanna Witter-Johnson and Alex Paxton, eschew traditional programme notes. Witter-Johnson prefers to allow her piece, Equinox, to speak for itself, writing ‘Music cannot always be intellectualised into a neat programme note.’ On the other hand, Paxton's provocative stream-of-consciousness text is – in my view, at least – a verbal parallel of his track, Levels of Affection. He ends with a question: ‘There are many levels of affection, these are some of my favourite. Which one is yours?’
Ayanna Witter-Johnson is established as a multitalented musician who effortlessly embraces multiple styles as both a cellist/singer and as a composer whose work draws on jazz, popular music and adventurous sonorities. Starting with a fragmentary cello melody that gradually draws the string ensemble into its orbit, Equinox combines atmospheric string chords and clear, well-placed R&B-style vocals. Expanding and contracting string textures encircle and underline the voice and solo cello. Structurally, Equinox contrasts vocal-dominated sections (with a text by the composer) with a light string accompaniment with what sound like improvisatory episodes that are dynamic and highly rhythmically inventive, in which Witter-Johnson sometimes uses the cello body percussively. Only an extract of the text, on the topic of the circle of life, seasons and relationships, is provided, though Witter-Johnson's excellent diction makes the complete reproduction superfluous. This is an instantly appealing, accessible work.
To say the sonic universe changes for Alex Paxton's Levels of Affection, ‘for ensemble and improviser’, would be a huge understatement. From the transparent, legible textures and musical language of Equinox we move to something extremely mobile and messy. Paxton's piece begins as if in media res, as if we've turned on a radio between stations, with lo-fi orchestral and synthesised sounds from which a wandering trombone and crazy impulsive xylophone flourishes emerge. The boundaries between live and synthesised sound, between vocal and instrumental utterances, are chaotically blurred.
Paxton himself is the extraordinary improvising solo trombonist, usually muted, wah-wah-ing and/or squeaking, communicating with us in a way that makes me wonder whether there is a text or at least a hidden storyline behind the piece. Short, simple melodic phrases are piled up to create textures as multi-layered and as seemingly spontaneously generated as a Jackson Pollock spatter painting, occasionally clarified and cut back, though not for long. The overall impression is of treble-heavy cartoon music to which we can imagine our own narrative (for instance, around 6’15” there is a distorted electronic lullaby to which the trombonist responds by singing descending gestures through the instrument). All the performers are spectacular virtuosi who are also asked to whistle (without their instrument) towards the end of the piece; in particular, whoever the xylophone player is deserves a medal. In the last few seconds, the trombone seems to plead with us one last time, and abruptly the piece finishes. Perhaps because Tom and Jerry cartoons were one of my earliest formative musical experiences, I enjoyed Levels of Affection a great deal.
This short CD provides an introduction to two fascinating British composers, showcasing both the variety of the contemporary scene and the ability of Philharmonia players to adapt to highly contrasting styles. If the aim was to make me want to explore both composers further, it succeeded.
