From Station Island
As the title makes clear this 10-minute work is concerned with distance, both in space and time, recollection and nostalgia. When I lived for about fifteen years between the Golden Valley and the Black Mountains in the (still remote) Herefordshire borderlands the landscape, its varied moods and ever-changing light, was always inspiring; those hills are still visible (on most days) from my present workroom, but now from much further away. So distances are present in various ways in the structure and sound of the music and, ideally, in the actual placement of the orchestra. Afar is a mainly slow, quiet movement - not without its darker corners - though including a short, quick middle section. Knowing that it would be heard first in the splendid acoustic of Dore Abbey had a strong bearing on how the music turned out; I sat alone in this beautiful building one bright February day, leaving after a while with many of the sounds I needed to begin work.
Afar was commissioned to celebrate the 10th anniversary of 'Concerts for Craswall', a remarkable enterprise that brings young musicians to play concerts in - and raise funds for - the fine churches of west Herefordshire. The work is dedicated to Sue Norrington, founder and guiding spirit of these concerts, Sam Laughton, conductor, and his Craswall Players. The first performance was given in Dore Abbey on 26 June 2004.
© Anthony Powers 2004
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
The beautiful language of John Donne (1572-1631), stunning in its immediacy, suggestive in its ambiguity and often surprising in its modernity, is familiar, even if at times his imagery is knotty and 'difficult'. Perhaps music, with its greater expressive range, its forms unfolding in time, can help to explain such language.
Almost all the poems I have chosen here are love poems, and are principally about the relation of human to divine love - a theme big enough for a much larger work than this! They range from the intimate and erotic (A Lecture upon the Shadow and Break of Day) to the apocalyptic (At the round Earth's...). The poems are arranged roughly symmetrically around the central Nocturnall to give a particular shape to the piece, which moves towards, and then away from, the dark despair at the heart of no.4, framed by Donne's vision of judgment, and ending with a fragment of another poem (Death be not proud). I have separated the two verses of Air and Angels to help the symmetry, and to break up what is certainly the densest poem in the sequence.
Angels, in their many manifestations, are a favourite image for Donne (who evidently knew and believed the mediaeval view of angels, as found for instance in the Summa Theologia of S. Thomas Aquinas). I like to think of music, itself an invisible messenger, real but untouchable, present but then immediately absent, as being an angel too.
Air and Angels was commissioned for the 2003 Hereford Three Choirs Festival by the Three Choirs Festival Society with financial assistance from the performing rights society.
© Anthony Powers 2003
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
The full text of this piece is available from the Repertoire Promotion Department
The island in question is the imaginary (Mediterranean?) setting for Shakespeare's The Tempest. Another Part of the Island proposes an abstract instrumental commentary or analogy, to the principal theme of the play, the emergence of order out of chaos, unity out of conflict. The Tempest is a richly-layered allegory; I have not adhered to the scenario of the play but, whilst this is in no sense `programme music', one might reasonably imagine the instrumentalists cast in the following roles at certain points in the piece: flute: Ariel; clarinet: Caliban; violin: Miranda; cello: Prospero; piano/celesta and percussion contribute equally with the melody instruments to the musical argument.
The piece, in four linked movements, is a large-scale sonata structure. The first movement, a prelude, presents the basic material and accumulates around an increasingly animated alto flute solo forming an antecedent to the second movement (Allegro energico). Here the ideas of the first movement are `exploded' and developed very rigorously as a `storm' which builds, via cadenzas for clarinet and violin, to the climactic corporate cadenza at the beginning of the third movement. The material is then gradually reassembled into a quasi recapitulation of the opening. But now, instead of building in intensity, the music remains calm, and the F major tonality, towards which the whole work has been striving, is finally achieved as a cushion to a relaxed presentation of the opening flute solo.
Another Part of the Island was written in 1980 for the Fires of London who gave the first performance, conducted by John Carewe, in Queen Elizabeth Hall London, May 1982. It was revised in 1994 for a series of performances by Psappha, including a concert on the Cutty Sark, Greewich.
© Anthony Powers, 1994
reproduced with the permission of Oxford University Press
The title (which came late in the composing) suggests two apparently quite different aspects of music; but dreams have their own form and logic and architecture has its dimension of fantasy, so the two are not mutually exclusive.
Lasting in all about twenty minutes, there are three movements which play without a break. The first is a mosaic of many different ensembles (from duo to tutti) each with its own distinctive music. The ensembles interlock in various ways in an 'architecturally' proportioned structure of recurrence and development. The slow second movement is a "song without words" for (mainly) alto flute, horn and strings, but this 'dream' is not undisturbed. The final movement mixes the rhythms of various dances (from waltz to samba) on a fast moto perpetuo background. Here too the structure is 'proportional', and, though the dream has its nightmarish aspect, three times the accumulated energy dissolves into nothing.
Architecture and Dreams was commissioned by the City of Worcester for ‘Music in Our Time 1992’ with financial assistance from West Midlands Arts.
© Anthony Powers, 1992
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
As Shadows To The Sun
Madrigals, Fragments and a Sonnet of Michelangelo
The majority of Michelangelo’s writings are love poems; others explore the transience of human life, the prospect of death (and damnation), and a yearning for divine solace. But his imagery, not surprisingly, often comes from the making of art and sculpture. Indeed the sometimes rough-edged and dense use of language has a sculptural quality in itself.
I have chosen some of Michelangelo’s reflections on love, art, and mortality, shaping them into a sequence of three movements lasting in all about fifteen minutes. The music develops as a central image the notion that a block of marble contains the finished sculpture within it, revealed by carving and chipping, just as the body contains within it the soul. Likewise here the calm and spacious setting of the final Sonnet 102 is glimpsed and partially revealed during the earlier course of the piece.
As Shadows to the Sun was commissioned for The Joyful Company of Singers by the 1998 Presteigne Festival, with funding from the Arts Council of Wales.
© Anthony Powers, 1998
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
I. Lento e calmo
II. Allegro moderato - Presto - Moderato - Allegro Molto
III. Lento e calmo
In spite of its plain title the Brass Quintet is a semi- programmatic piece loosely based on descriptions of the sea-god Triton in Virgil's Aeneid, and Pausanias (author of the second century guide to Greece Hellados Periegesis). Triton, half man half fish, son of Poseidon, and was generally depicted blowing a conch. It seems that, like Poseidon, he had the ability to both create and calm storms. Here he plays the horn, and his dual nature is often suggested by the other instruments, in pairs.
The work was commissioned for the winners of the Leggett Award and first performed by the Phoenix Brass Quintet at the 1989 Cheltenham Festival.
© Anthony Powers 1989
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
It was after hearing my Second String Quartetthat Nic Daniel asked if I would write a work for his wind ensemble, and I began by planning a piece that would have the same "weight" as a string quartet. In the event the piece is, perhaps, more playful and its structure rather sectional, hence the title. Capricci plays without breaks for about 15 minutes. It falls clearly into three movements, the beginning with its horn-calls and echoes, returning in the second movement and at the end. The first movement sets two different musics against one another, bright bell-like chords, and "birdsong" over long pedal-notes. A slow movement follows, mainly lyrical but with an unexpectedly violent middle section; the return of the lyrical music leads to a scherzo-finale, similar in mood and form to that of the Second Quartet. So in a sense the work which provoked the commissioning of this one does find a counterpart here after all. Capricci was composed in Summer 1994. It was commissioned by the Haffner Wind Ensemble of London with funds provided by the Arts Council of England. The Haffner Ensemble gave the first performance at the Cheltenham International Festival of Music on 5 July 1995.
© Anthony Powers 1995
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
I. Molto Moderato
II. Allegro molto, leggiero ma energico
III. Adagio
This work forms the central panel of a planned triptych of concertos, begun in 1989 with a Horn Concerto. In a sense, it is the “slow movement”; the relationship between soloist and orchestra is here less confrontational, more intimate and reflective. The Cello Concerto is also scores for a smaller orchestra with extra percussion, mandolin and piano. The outer movements us low wind instruments (alto flute, cor anglais, bass clarinet, contra bassoon) to provide a dark and enriched sonority; the middle movement, in contrast, employs piccolo, a second alto, Eb clarinet, in a brighter, higher-pitched wind octet. And the piano has a special role in the piece, together with the principal cello.
The first movement begins with neither orchestra nor soloist, but with this duo, as if a cello sonata were envisaged! Though the music is placid and simple, it appears disturbing, at least to the soloist who, joined at once by the orchestra, manages to suppress it before embarking on the movement proper. The cello/piano duo is not heard again till near the end of the movement where an uneasy, and clearly temporary, rapport is achieved. Meanwhile the soloist has spun a more or less continuous line, volatile and elusive, moving through a number of instrumental ensembles, from small groups to the full tutti, varying and developing the material heard at the outset.
The second movement is a scherzo ranging through extremes of delicacy and violence and including a short cadenza. The “trio” sees the re-emergence of the cello/piano duo, here at odds with the soloist and the percussion section. In the abridged reprise of the scherzo which follows the cadenza, the soloist is gradually snuffed out by volleys of furious drumming, a sound heard “from afar” at the start of the movement and several times threatening to erupt in the meantime.
The final Adagio follows at once, with the soloist clearing the air in a series of introductory gestures which reach for the ecstatic heights so nearly sustained at the end of the first movement. There is a sequence of rather sarabande-like orchestral episodes alternating with “songs” for soloist and wind instruments the last of which finally allows a rapprochement between the soloist and the piano. Leading to a calm and spacious coda. The cello’s re-iterated E from the end of the first movement then in conflict with a tug towards Eb in the orchestra, now floats serenely in C major harmony, and has the last word.
The Cello Concerto was commissioned and funded by the King’s Lynn Festival and written for Steven Isserlis with his special talents very much in mind. It was composed February-April 1990 and is dedicated to the Festival Artistic Adviser, Meirion Bowen.
© Anthony Powers, 1990
reproduced by Oxford University Press
The Chamber Concerto is the first in a trilogy (with Venexiana and Stone, Water, Stars) inspired by the architecture, atmosphere and labyrinthine form of Venice. The piece is not directly descriptive of the city, but it does attempt to find musical parallels both in image and structure.
The first movement, framed by slow nocturnal music is a sequence of ritornelli and concertanti, using the instrumental families of the ensemble in a mosaic of short interlocking sections. The second movement is slow, lyrical and atmospheric and the third combines scherzo and finale, again grouping the instruments in families. The writing is quite demanding throughout: every player is a soloist.
The Chamber Concerto was written in 1983-4 and lasts about 25 minutes. It was first performed on 15 May 1985 at St John's Smith Square by The Music Ensemble, conductor Keith Williams.
© Anthony Powers 1984
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
Unlike some of my recent chamber music Double Sonata, written in March-April 1993, is a purely abstract work, in one movement. The piece is indeed a sonata form, with obvious modifications, a double sonata because there are four subjects rather than the more usual two, and because the ensemble is used as two duos. There are also two tempi, one twice the speed of the other, so ideas are sometimes superimposed.
After a short Introduction (in the faster tempo) the four subjects are heard, marked respectively Appassionato (violin and cello), Capriccioso (clarinet and piano), Comodo (violin and cello), and Grazioso (clarinet and piano). Each subject is counterpointed, from time to time, with echoes or pre-echoes of another. This exposition is repeated with different instrumentation.
At the heart of the subsequent Development is a gentle, bluesy song for cello (later clarinet) and piano whose middle section combines this, the slowest music in the piece, with some of the fast music from the Exposition. After the song a peak of intensity and complexity is reached, the music then relaxing into the Recapitulation which, by re-ordering the subjects, builds in energy to a re-discovery of the vigorous Introduction to the work in a brilliant coda. But the ambiguous ending supplies, perhaps, the final `double'.
Double Sonata was commissioned by the Malvern Festival with funds from West Midlands Arts Board.
© Anthony Powers, 1993
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
The title, one invented by Rachmaninov for two sets of piano pieces, may be understood here as implying a work which is at once abstract and dramatic or illustrative. Though the three movements of the trio consist neither of studies nor scenes in any explicit sequence, the piece is certainly a study for the players, both individually and as chamber music; in its shifting perspectives the music is, I hope, tightly constructed, (a study for the composer!) challenging to play and hear, but direct.
The outer movements are mostly fast, with distant formal connections to sonata and rondo respectively, the central one a sustained and highly decorated slow movement whose lyrical heart, a gentle lovesong, returns at the end of the work.
Études-Tableaux: book 1, which plays for a little under twenty minutes, was commissioned by the Dartington Ensemble with funds made available by the Arts Council of Great Britain and written in summer 1986.
© Anthony Powers
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
Allegro moderato - Presto - Allegro molto – Moderato
Études-Tableaux: book 2 is a sequence of five short movements with an introduction, links, and coda, in all lasting a little over ten minutes.
The piece may be played independently but would best be heard as the sequel and finale to Études-Tableaux: book 1for piano trio, whose basic material it develops further.
As in the trio there are a number of cross-references, here enlarged by glances back to the trio as well. The five movements are like snapshots of different landscapes whose associations trigger fleeting memories and images including shadowy allusions to Mendelssohn, Haydn, Liszt, plainsong and gypsy music. Formally, they are highly compressed and closely worked - two related scherzi frame a central slow movement whilst the first and last movements have sonata and rondo characteristics respectively. Linking the movements is a developing 'narrative', for viola and double bass, which moves from the tiniest glimpse after the first movement to a flamboyant cadenza at the end. These passages highlight a tendency in the piece for the ensemble to work as two layers - viola/bass duo and piano trio.
The balance, suggested in the title stolen from Rachmaninov, between music abstract or illustrative, virtuoso or dramatic, underlies all aspects of the composition. And following Rachmaninov's example I see no musical need to divulge the subjects of my snapshots.
Études-Tableaux: book 2 was commissioned by the Schubert Ensemble of London and was made possible by financial assistance from the Arts Council of Great Britain. It was written between November and January 1986-7 and received its first performance by the Schubert Ensemble at the Wigmore Hall, London on April 9th, 1987.
© Anthony Powers
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
Fast Colours was written to be a showpiece, and a relatively lightweight divertimento, perhaps to open or close a concert programme. Although there are two slower episodes the pace of the music is generally very rapid; and the “colours” in the sense of instrumentation, harmony, manner of playing, etc, also tend to change quickly. But there are many constants too, as the (intentionally) punning title suggests.
I had imagined that the writing of this little piece - it lasts about seven minutes - would be a necessary relaxation after completing a large-scale Symphony. Needless to say this did not prove to be the case, but I hope, all the same, that the piece has something of the carefree joie de vivre I was after.
The work was commissioned by the PM Music Ensemble with financial assistance from the Arts Council of Wales. The ensemble gave the first performance at the Norwegian Church Arts Centre, Cardiff on 20 June 1997.
© Anthony Powers, 1997
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
flyer, 1. That which flies or is carried by the air. 2. One who or that which moves with
exceptional speed. 3. Applied to parts of a machine that have a quick revolution; e.g. an appliance
for regulating the motion of a roasting-jack; a sail of a windmill. 4. A small handbill or fly-sheet.
Flyer is dedicated, with gratitude, to Michael Berkeley for his decade of inspirational Cheltenham
festivals.
© Anthony Powers 2004
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
Text by Seamus Heaney, abridged by Anthony Powers
When Hans-Christian Euler invited me to write a new work for his Ensemble Musica Viva Hannover he suggested the poetry of Seamus Heaney as a text, and in particular the semi-dramatic cycle of poems Sweeney Astray. I was enthusiastic, as I had been keen to attempt a Heaney setting for some time, but in the end I settled instead on another cycle, Station Island published in 1984.
This set of twelve substantial poems needed considerable cutting down for musical setting, and that was the first task. My intention was to preserve the shape and feel of the original whilst reducing each poem considerably, and the overall number of poems from twelve to nine. The poems naturally suggested two connected but contrasting voices, a male speaker and a baritone; the speaker takes the role of the poet himself Station Island is an autobiographical work concerned with "the growth of a poet's mind" and the baritone the numerous characters from past and present whom the poet meets.
Heaney describes the poems as "a sequence of dream encounters with familiar ghosts, set on Station Island on Lough Derg in County Donegal. The island is also known as St Patrick's Purgatory because of a tradition that Patrick was the first to establish the penitential vigil of fasting and praying which still constitutes the basis of the three-day pilgrimage. Each unit of the contemporary pilgrim's exercises is called a 'station'."
These 'dream encounters' range from the remote mythical past of Ireland to the vivid political present - or very recent past - of the 'troubles', the locations and imagery likewise ranging from country to town. In a way which perhaps reflects this my own music is based entirely, if not always obviously, on transformations and distortions of a traditional Irish reel which only fully emerges in the last number, played there on the flute.
The music follows closely the moods and images of the words, sometimes sketching in an atmospheric background, sometimes picking up, quite realistically, on a particular sound described in the text. So the piece hovers between 'melodrama' (in the old sense of spoken declamation with musical accompaniment) and 'song-cycle', whilst perhaps suggesting both cinema and chamber opera too.
From Station Island was written in the summer of 2003 to a commission from the Hannoverische Gesselschaft fur Neue Musik. The first performance was given by Sebastian Bluth (baritone), Charles Ebert (speaker) and Ensemble Musica Viva Hannover, conducted by Hans-Christian Euler, on 26 October 2003, at the Musikhochschule, Hannover, Germany.
© Anthony Powers 2003
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press
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