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Fanfare

Musici Ireland is an ensemble that was formed by viola player Beth McNinch in 2012. It is a collective (along the lines, therefore, of Manchester Collective), fluid in its make-up, which actively champions both Irish and female composers. This is the ensemble’s debut album; it will not, I am sure, be its last. Before going into each composer and their works, it is worth noting that the performance standard is of the very highest, the dedication of the players to the composers absolutely unflagging. 

Deirdre Gribbin is a composer whose music never fails to fascinate. (In the composer and artist biographies section of the booklet, her surname is also listed as “Gribbins” in parentheses.) It is astonishing that only a couple of pieces have been reviewed so far in Fanfare: Unseen, on a First Hand Records disc; The Future is Female, Volume 1 (Fanfare 46:1); and three pieces on a superb Black Box release, where she shared disc space with Gráinne Mulvey (24:3). The present piece, Before the Moon Shattered and Shone Again, is for string quartet (here with Mia Cooper and Ioana Petcu-Colan, violins; Beth McNinch, viola; and Katie Tertell, cello). The piece explores the Celtic concept of time as circular, with each day beginning at dusk; on a slightly larger scale, the Celtic year began at Samhain in October in the month of Samonios, “Seed Fall” (or, if you prefer, the year’s dusk). The earliest known Celtic calendar, the Coligny calendar (held in Lyon, France) has each month beginning with a full moon. 

Bringing us into current times, Gribbin reminds us that during the pandemic, Nature remained constant, with the moon as a reassuring beacon. Gribbin conjures up the nighttime by muted strings offering shards of melodies that move in the sound picture between foreground and background, an ebb and flow reflecting the moon’s effect on water, like the tides, perhaps. Do you need to know all of this to listen to Gribbin’s piece? No, but it helps. Certainly, the silvery tones of the muted strings would act as a clue if one listened blind. Gribbin is a mistress of atmosphere, and mystery shines through every texture and harmony. One can perhaps discern shadows of fanfares in the opening measures. Later, similar ascending gestures take on a more intimate nature, ascending toward the unknown before fading to nothing. This is a magnificently haunting piece, seven minutes of carefully thought-through composition that punches way above its short duration. 

Born in the UK and based in Wexford, Ireland, Liam Bates has written for a wide variety of media. His statement of intent is given in his bio: “Crafting music that evokes a resonant and emotive experience within myself, has always been the compass of my compositional aspirations. I draw from my great love of both orchestral traditions and contemporary styles to tell stories and convey emotions that bridge diversities, welcoming audiences into my world of imagery and imagination.” He studied composition with Giles Swayne, John McCabe, and Susan Bradshaw, and conducting with Norman Del Mar. The disc takes its title from his 2023 piece Earthrise, which draws its inspiration from our planet and which was commissioned by Beth McNinch. The music flows beautifully, led by a solo viola (McNinch) with an ensemble comprising a string quartet, double bass, harp, flute, clarinet, and French horn. The flow of the music, both melodic and harmonic, is deliberately reflective of how the Earth functions best when unimpeded. The sense of evolution of life on our planet is reflected in Bates’s thematic manipulations, as themes “grow” and expand. A poignant, brief viola cadenza cedes to viola and flute exchanges that lighten the load. As noted by the composer, the viola represents the “wandering observer, actively participating in the world it inhabits.” I have only paise for McNinch’s playing, which is warm and expressive. There is a nostalgic tinge to the music, which frequently skirts English (Irish) Pastoralism, while a dance seems to reference an Irish jig more explicitly. The second movement is a gentle song (it is actually marked “Gently,” as against the first movement’s “Majestically”); Bates has the gift of hyper-expressivity, minus any saccharine element. A faster section is certainly lively, and McNinch moves from heart-based lyricism to scampering passages that seem to want to break out into dance but continually end with a high, cantabile close. The finale, “With spirit,” is certainly that. Harmonies have added acidic tang to them. Musici Ireland has the most glorious way with this music, offering a palpable sense of exuberance. The close will almost certainly raise a smile, as Bates satisfyingly rounds off this most attractive work. 

I well remember being impressed, even stunned, by a disc of string quartets by Ian Wilson on Black Box, recorded in 1999 (but I think it hit the shelves in the UK somewhere around 2001–02). That release comprised the first three of Wilson’s quartets, performed beautifully by the Vanburgh Quartet; it’s nice to see that my colleague Robert Carl was also impressed in Fanfare 24:5. This is now Wilson’s String Quartet No. 12 of 2010, and the quartet here comprises Ioana Petcu Cohn, Mia Cooper, violins; Beth McNinch, viola; and Kate Tertell, cello (so the first and second violins are reversed from before). The inspiration for this piece, Her Charms Invited, is traditional Irish “sean-nós” singing, invited into Wilson’s decidedly contemporary worldview and florid lines. It is one of several works that explore this nexus between the traditional and the concert hall (Where the Moorcocks Crow for alto saxophone and saxophone quartet, and The Linnet Sings Her Note So Pleasing for quarter-tone bass flute and live electronics, are the others). All three also use a melody Wilson wrote after the old Irish song The Mountain Streams, which informs the melodic and harmonic shapes of Her Charms Invited. 

Wilson’s Her Charms Invited is characterized by intensity: Melody is there, and seems to ever be seeking. Textures can be dense but are never over-burdened; most of all, Wilson has a clear, individual sound world. The music demands full concentration from both performers and listeners; the account here is compelling in its quiet ruminations. I now need to seek out Wilson’s Quartets Nos. 4–12, of course, to see what he was up to in the interim. Sadly, Peter Burwasser was less impressed by Wilson’s Winter’s Edge for string quartet (with the Vanburgh Quartet again, now on Chandos, Fanfare 18:3). Previously, I celebrated a trio of releases of Wilson’s music on the Farpoint, Diatribe, and Es-Dur labels (Fanfare 45:1, 44:3, and 44:6, respectively). 

Recently, Ian Wilson celebrated his 60th birthday, and the website of The Contemporary Music Centre Ireland published a revealing interview with the composer that is recommended reading, and includes various embedded SoundCloud files, including the String Quartet No. 4; String Quartet No. 13, the quartet after this one (Still life in green and red, 2011); and a piece referenced above, Where the Moorcocks Crow. 

Linda Buckley’s Fiol for string trio of 2008 (Ioana Petcu-Colan, violin; Beth McNinch, viola; Katie Tertell, cello) seems to carry on logically from Wilson’s piece. Here, the inspiration is the Norwegian Hardanger fiddle: “Fiol” is the term for fiddle in the 17th and 18th centuries in Denmark and Norway. With the fiddle’s eight or nine strings (four to be played, the balance for resonance), Buckley transforms the string trio as a 12-stringed “meta-instrument.” The result is tremendous, and when Buckley thins the texture down, the effect is powerful. The music’s keening qualities seem to imply a restrained James Mc­Millan, but more important is the way it stops just short of peaceful. There is a “niggle” in the harmonies that lends the listening experience a small but significant frisson. 

More of Buckley’s music is available on the NMC label, while another new release from Metier, The Gentle Erasure of Time, features her The Thin Veil. Certainly, I enjoyed her Númarímur on Elizabeth Milliard’s Metier disc Sea to the West (Fanfare 40:3). Peter J. Rabinowitz reviewed an all-Buckley NMC disc in 44:6, describing her as “exceptionally talented.” I can only but agree. 

Finally, there comes a piece by County Down composer Deirdre Mc­Kay, a recipient of the Paul Hamlyn Composer Award; her music represented Ireland at the 2023 ISCM World New Music Days in Cape Town, South Africa. Written for string quartet (Cooper on first violin, Colen on second), Mr. Shah Stares to the Heavens offers yet another set of unique sounds. The “Mr. Shah” of the title of her piece is a Welsh astrophotographer who spends his nights in his garden shed, exploring space. McKay reminds us that to have sound is a luxury; outer space is not so well equipped in this regard as planet Earth. High harmonics and other effects perhaps indicate otherworldly sights. The timeless quality of space is certainly inherent in this music. So, too, is a sense of wonder. This could only be effected via a performance of maximal control from the players, and Musici Ireland’s account is faultless. 

The recording, made in Westmeath, Ireland by experienced producer Jona­than Allen and engineer Alex Borwick, is superb. Instruments are perfectly placed, and nowhere is this more obvious than in the concluding McKay. A remarkable disc of high beauty and profound emotional depth performed and recorded to the very highest standards. Pure Want List material.