Born in Aberdeen where he spent his childhood, composer/pianist 
          James Clapperton studied in Freiburg and at Buffalo University before 
          returning to the United Kingdom to complete an MMus at Exeter University 
          with Philip Grange and a DPhil in composition with Michael Finnissy 
          at Sussex University. 
        
 
        
As a pianist he spent a good deal of time immersed 
          in the "mesmerising complexity" of composers such as Brian 
          Ferneyhough, Xenakis and Finnissy, all of whom he still admires, although 
          his own music underwent a dramatic change around 1988 when he moved 
          towards a new language of simplicity, perhaps closest at times to Howard 
          Skempton (Clapperton describes Skempton as the "emperor of the 
          miniature"). Indeed, Skempton is acknowledged by name in Stephen’s 
          Piano Book, commissioned by pianist Stephen Osborne. In his brief 
          tribute to Skempton, Clapperton’s language is reduced to its bare minimum: 
          a sequence of straightforward chord progressions, unembellished by melody, 
          moving line or counterpoint. Elsewhere, the music ranges from melody 
          in its sparsest form to works (often the more substantial pieces in 
          length) which still hark back to the dissonance of earlier pieces, often 
          showing a predilection for glistening, chromatic passage work in the 
          highest register of the piano set against slower moving melodic and 
          chordal sequences in the left hand. 
        
 
        
This latter conflict of harmony and material is possibly 
          at its most obvious and effective in The Ressoning betuir Aige an 
          Yowth, taking Robert Henryson’s poem in which two figures, one young, 
          one old, espouse the virtues of "aige an yowth". Written for 
          two pianos the composer tells us that he replaces antiphony with cacophony 
          in a deliberate attempt to avoid the usual device of passing motive. 
          Stylistically Mikhashoffschina, written in tribute to Yvar Mikhashoff, 
          Clapperton’s piano teacher at Buffalo University, inhabits the same 
          world whilst evaporating into a tender, melodic central elegy, clearly 
          a very personal response to a man who had a major influence on the composer. 
        
 
        
The earliest work following Clapperton’s "conversion", 
          Haar of 1988, is a brief portrait of a mist shrouded Aberdeen, 
          the word quite literally meaning sea mist, whilst The Testament of 
          Cresseid, which followed over the course of the next two years, 
          again turns to the poetry of Robert Henryson for inspiration. It is 
          in this work that Clapperton succeeds in merging his differing sound 
          worlds to the most homogeneous effect, echoed in the poetry telling 
          of two figures and their unrequited love for each other. 
        
 
        
Like Howard Skempton, Clapperton has the ability to 
          move his listener with the simplest of material and Long Journey 
          Back, from which the disc takes its title, is a notable example, 
          written as a tribute to the composer’s father following a stroke. By 
          the same token, St. Patrick’s Day, the final piece of the Finnissy 
          dedicated Michael’s Piano Book, is a beautiful elegy in response 
          to political events in Northern Ireland and in particular the release 
          of the Birmingham Six and Guildford Four. 
        
 
        
A good number of these pieces have the unmistakable 
          influence of the composer’s Scottish roots embedded in them, both melodically 
          and in the rhythmic inflections that permeate the music. It is perhaps 
          no surprise therefore that the disc closes with arrangements of two 
          "North East Songs", both touchingly realised and somehow 
          entirely characteristic of the composer’s stylistic fingerprint. 
        
 
        
It would be good to have the opportunity to hear more 
          of Clapperton’s work outside the piano repertory, his violin concerto, 
          The Preiching of the Swallow for instance, won the PRS award 
          in 1993. There are also commissions for the Endymion Ensemble and a 
          number of festivals. In the meantime however this interesting, at times 
          touching, collection of pieces definitively played by the composer, 
          serves as a fine introduction to Clapperton’s music. All credit to Metier 
          for coming up trumps once again with music that deserves to be better 
          known. 
        
 
        
 
        Christopher Thomas