Turnage,  About Water (world première): Barb Jungr (vocals), Martin Robertson (soprano saxophone), Mark Lockheart (tenor saxophone), Gwilym Simcock (piano), Gabriella Swallow (cello), John Patitucci (double bass), Loré Lixenberg (mezzo-soprano), Melanie Marshall (mezzo-soprano), Mike Henry (tenor), Keel Watson (bass) London Sinfonietta, Stefan Asbury (conductor),  Queen Elizabeth Hall, London, 15.6.2007 (AO)



“Ace caff with museum attached” goes the notorious ad for the V&A, designed to pull in crowds who don’t normally like art.    On this glorious summer evening the South Bank was packed because it’s almost certainly one of the most scenic spots in London for spending a few hours drinking, chatting and chilling out.  In case anyone missed the point, raucous noise blared from the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Hall, so loud and crudely performed that I had to escape outside.  The ambience might have destroyed more recherché music, like a chamber ensemble, but it was surprisingly apposite for Mark – Anthony  Turnage’s new work About Water, specially commissioned for the relaunch of the South Bank.  The obvious point of reference is water but more subtly, as the programme notes tell us, “musical ideas can….circulate liquidly within an environment that confidently embraces both jazz and straight classical heritages”.

Something here for everyone, then.  This was music totally accessible to people who might otherwise be scared off by the tag “new music”, so perhaps it’s a good thing that the audience was full of new faces, young and old.   The jazz elements, too, were comfortable and familiar rather than jagged edged avant garde.  Indeed, there was even a version of Otis Redding’s Sitting on the Dock of the Bay, adapted loosely but still almost easy enough to sing along to.  Turnage kept its famous refrain intact.  It would have been sacrilege otherwise! But his point, I think, is to show how music  with such strong memories can be fun heard in a different context.

Fun really did seem to be the keynote of this entire work, and why not?  Turnage has never been stuffy, and his collaborator, Barb Jungr, is one of the least stuffy people imaginable.  Her flamboyant liveliness and sense of humour are as much a part of the creation of this work as the notes Turnage has written.  She wrote the lyrics for some of the songs, but I think her contribution goes deeper.  She’s a muse, and an icon. So much of this music seems to be freely improvised, so her personality and commitment have a great effect on its general direction.  I love that off the wall style!

Turnage scores this around a “jazz” cell of double bass, piano, singer cello, and two saxophonists.   Around this basic unit, the Sinfonietta provides more conventional “classical” support.  There’s also a SATB chorus, providing a strange underpinning, part gospel choir, part oratorio, part pop song backing group.  The “jazz” cell is the central unit, around which the other elements develop.  In the first few songs, there are very long solos for double bass, piano, and cello.  The cello part was rather interesting, starting first with electric cello, where the sounds of the strings are amplified, because there’s no resonance from its skeletal body.  The instrument is a work of art – a nice  piece of sculpture to look at, even if its sound possibilities are limited.  Turnage quickly moves back to more conventional cello writing, but it’s fun while it lasts.  In later parts of the work, there’s more quite lovely music for cello.  Another more intriguing instrument Turnage uses is the Armenian duduk, a reed instrument that makes wonderful, keening wails that sound melancholic, poignant and primeval.  Its possibilities must be huge, because its sound is so distinctive, though I’m not sure of its range. 

The “jazz” element in this work is fairly fundamental, but it’s soft jazz, more evocative of Peggy Lee or Al Green than anything particularly demanding.  There are no Ornette Coleman flights of invention here, and even the saxophones don’t make an appearance until part way through.  Some of the songs, “instrumentals” to use pop terminology, are played by the Sinfonietta alone, without the jazz cell, allowing them to explore the different sensibility.  The interplay of genres is quite interesting.  For example, flutes and woodwinds take up the duduk theme, and the “classical” double bass responds to the improvised double bass themes.   Other interesting relationships came from the various keyboards and the jazz piano.  The harp part was rather assertive, the strings plucked to sound like a bizarre version of a double bass.  True jazz harp! In blues, harmonicas are called “harps” which raises other intriguing possibilities.  Many of the jazz standards like Jesus gave me water and Take me to the River are themselves adaptations of older genres, so Turnage is creating a multi level tapestry of different styles, eras and modes of expression.

Barb Jungr’s singing is most congenial, part jazz, part pop, part chanteuse.  The chorus members are very good singers, clearly classically trained, but experienced enough to adapt themselves to the different context of this work. The audience cracked up with delight when the bass sang the word “Deep” at the bottom of his resonant register.  It would be silly to apply art song standards to this sort of delivery because that’s not at all the point.   What makes About Water work is not its technical expertise but its general good humoured ambience.  It plays with genres in a relaxed, uncomplicated way, creating an enjoyable, downbeat experience.  Nothing here to scare  anyone new to new music, and enough to make them interested, I hope, in exploring more, if perhaps not this particular work.  Turnage took his bows dressed in his trademark tight shirt, looking the ultimate in cool.  

 

Anne Ozorio