I first encountered Joby Talbot, albeit without knowing 
          it at the time, when switching on the television late one evening I 
          happened to catch a live performance by Neil Hannon and his "pop" 
          group, The Divine Comedy. I can recall being fascinated by their 
          ambitious instrumental arrangements and memorably melodic yet often 
          adventurous song writing - a kind of "prog-rock" group for 
          the 1990s. I immediately rushed out and bought the album they had been 
          promoting in the television show, fin de siècle, a disc 
          that has remained a firm favourite ever since. Only later, when I came 
          to know Talbot’s name through classical circles did I realise that his 
          writing and arrangements were an integral part of The Divine Comedy 
          sound. 
        
 
        
Talbot first collaborated with Neil Hannon in 1993 
          at around the time he was completing his college studies, a formal and 
          conventional musical education that had seen him study with Brian Elias, 
          Simon Bainbridge and Robert Saxton. His credentials were displayed early 
          and the 1990s, whilst Talbot was still in his twenties, saw works for 
          the BBC Philharmonic, Britten Sinfonia, Brunel Ensemble and Crouch End 
          Festival Chorus amongst others. Yet one senses that although these pieces 
          were written alongside Talbot’s work with The Divine Comedy, 
          they co-exist entirely naturally, the work of a composer whose integrity 
          and faithfulness to his own musical instincts is at once apparent. 
        
 
        
Stylistically the music on this disc is perhaps somewhere 
          between Michael Nyman and Philip Glass although Talbot clearly fights 
          against any overtly dominating influence. Indeed, Talbot and The 
          Divine Comedy have collaborated with Michael Nyman during the 1997 
          Flux Festival, a fruitful partnership that won them considerable acclaim. 
          The two String Quartets of 1998 and 2002 respectively, and in 
          particular the second, clearly owe something to Glass in their shifting 
          rhythmic and harmonic patterns although Talbot allows himself a greater 
          degree of overall license and flexibility whilst still laying the inner 
          workings of the music bare and clearly open to scrutiny. In contrast, 
          Blue cell, commissioned by and played here superbly by the Apollo 
          Saxophone Quartet, is the opposite of what we would conventionally expect 
          of a work for this ensemble, a study in twilight, hauntingly atmospheric 
          in its shaded, fluttering textures and delicately hued colours, reflecting 
          a side of the ensemble not commonly exploited and all the more effective 
          for it. 
        
 
        
That Talbot is not afraid to wear his heart on his 
          sleeve is a recurring factor in these works and comes to the surface 
          particularly in the brief but touching solo piano piece, 6/11/98, 
          the date of Talbot’s wedding to artist Claire Burbridge and "…similarities 
          between diverse things…" a moving threnody in tribute to Fred 
          Hutchins Hodder, a twenty year old violinist and mathematician who died 
          tragically between Christmas and New Year 2001 whilst a student at Pembroke 
          College, Cambridge. 
        
 
        
The Dying Swan stands apart from the other works 
          on the disc both in terms of its length, a three movement suite extending 
          to around thirty five minutes, and also in its conception as a score 
          to accompany the 1916 silent film of the same name by the Russian Yevgeny 
          Bauer, the music originating as a commission from the British Film Institute. 
          Talbot weaves music of real beauty here, often with the simplest of 
          material that he develops with a transparent and logical ingenuity, 
          yet the underlying pathos and ultimate tragedy of the film is certainly 
          not lost in the more dramatic moments of the music. Most striking of 
          all perhaps, the suite commanded my attention for its entire span, an 
          accolade that certainly cannot be applied to every contemporary score 
          of this scale I hear these days. 
        
 
        
Without exception the performances of all of these 
          works are exemplary. I have already singled out the Apollo Saxophone 
          Quartet but the contribution of The Duke Quartet is also of the highest 
          quality, the recorded sound rich with a resonance (presumably studio 
          aided) that is, nevertheless, perfect for the textures of these particular 
          chamber ensembles. 
        
 
        
If I had to name a young composer who summed up the 
          post modernist musical ethic then it would be Joby Talbot. Versatile, 
          emotionally transparent, thought provoking and above all enjoyable and 
          accessible without personal or artistic compromise. What emerges is 
          a musical renaissance man, a genuine voice for the new millennium in 
          its dawning years. 
        
 
        
Christopher Thomas