So a new CD featuring music I wrote between 2008 – 2012 has been released today. I’m really pleased with the selection for this recording – it features three quite distinct pieces which nevertheless are very representative of that time and have, to me at least, interesting musical things in common.
I am particularly happy that some of my closest performer collaborators are featured on the recording. The London Sinfonietta first played my music back in 2001 and have been incredibly generous with their support ever since (the fact that Things that are blue, things that are white and things that are black, the longest piece of the CD and written for the Sinfonietta and Sarah Nicolls, features a minimum of 16 violins (there were actually 24 for this recording) as well as two pianos and a considerable electronic setup
demonstrates the support in what was, for me a least, an ambitious idea and piece). Oliver Coates, Sarah Nicolls, André de Ridder and Sound Intermedia have, as well as playing numerous pieces of mine between them, also been among the friends and colleagues that I would turn to for music discussion and I hope they don’t mind me saying that they have helped shape this music.
My first ‘new classical music’ (whatever that means) CD I bought was an NMC one (it was Melinda Maxwell playing Simon Holt, Harrison Birtwistle and her own composition) and I have known and enjoyed this label ever since. So much of the music I love; Michael Finnissy, Simon Holt, Harrison Birtwistle, Richard Barrett, Anthony Gilbert, Richard Ayres and, well, I could go on for a long time, is featured on it. I feel very privileged to have a CD of my music on this label.
I chose the title for the CD for various reasons. In part this is because of the literary references that litter the pieces. Things that are blue… is explicitly inspired by Paul Auster’s novel Ghosts, part of his New York Trilogy, and the terminus wreck is in part inspired by a poem by Paul Celan. The CD title is from Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath; There ain’t no sin and there ain’t no virtue, there’s just stuff people do. I find a particular fascination in my preoccupation with people and behaviour when I write pieces of music and then trying to consider or even reverse engineer those thoughts from the music when it is finished and played. At that point the music is just (hopefully) pleasing sounds, patterns and artificial relationships.
I certainly wouldn’t want the title to trivialise the enormous amount or work that has gone into bringing this music, some of which is extremely demanding to play, to life. I just like to dwell on the fact that all the people I know well involved with this CD would be making music absolutely regardless of any other circumstances. It is just stuff we do.
I find that having a CD released feels a bit like archiving a period of work and I am inclined to reflect on this in a very particular way. For the piece I’m working on now, similar in duration to the half-hour piano concerto, I’m responding to features of these pieces in a differently than I would have done if they had not been grouped together in this way. I find it strangely liberating. I’ll write something about the new piece very soon.