Interesting subtitle 
                to this disc; I confess I’ve always 
                thought releasing musicians into the 
                community to be a very dangerous notion. 
                I also wonder how those orchestras not 
                in the Community - all the others 
                not on this disc I presume - feel about 
                it. 
              
 
              
Anyway, moving swiftly 
                on from such PC-inspired absurdities, 
                the actual music contained on this disc, 
                performed by two chamber orchestras 
                based mainly in Manchester, is well 
                worth hearing. The Manchester Camerata’s 
                contributions were recorded within the 
                last year, while, slightly oddly, The 
                Northern Chamber Orchestra’s tracks 
                hail from 1991. This highlights the 
                fact that it is a slightly awkward mish-mash 
                of a programme, the outer parts consisting 
                of quite recent music by relatively 
                unknown ‘local’ composers. The central 
                tracks are by established figures from 
                the more distant past. 
              
 
              
Still, this needn’t 
                be a problem, and there’s no doubt that 
                none of the newer pieces is in a particularly 
                difficult or challenging idiom. The 
                Partita by Philip Wood is well-written 
                for string orchestra – everything on 
                the disc is for strings other than the 
                little Gossec symphony – and has a breezy 
                Allegretto and a vigorous dance-like 
                Allegro con brio, in which the 
                influence of Bartók can be strongly 
                felt. The central movement is an impressive 
                if rather funereal Larghetto. 
              
 
              
I found the two pieces 
                by David Ellis, sometime BBC music producer 
                and now retired, the most impressive 
                amongst this first set of tracks. His 
                Fantasia upon one note is gently 
                hypnotic, with slowly shifting harmonies 
                over a single, rhythmically repeated 
                note in (I believe) the violas. Fantasia 
                upon a ground is more agitated, 
                built as it is on the first ground bass 
                from Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas, 
                over which Dido sings her aria ‘Ah, 
                Belinda’. My only reservation was that 
                there seemed the potential for a much 
                larger work here – Ellis arguably hasn’t 
                worked his material hard enough. But 
                this is assured, fluent writing of real 
                character. 
              
 
              
In between the Ellis 
                pieces come three slighter, if not shorter, 
                works. Playtime by Richard Howarth, 
                violinist and director of the Camerata, 
                is a tiny and very straightforward piece 
                of musical fun. David Forshaw’s Into 
                the Light, the ‘title piece’ of 
                the disc, is more extended, and achieves 
                a convincing psychological effect through 
                its three-part structure, moving from 
                a dark opening through to a lively dance-like 
                final section. Influences of Bartók 
                (again), Shostakovich and Britten are 
                all very much in evidence at the start, 
                then the troubled music is replaced 
                by a more optimistic passage of rising 
                melodies over repeated bass notes. I 
                admired this passage, not so much the 
                rather brash concluding passage – representing 
                the arrival of the light I presume, 
                illustrating perhaps the old saying 
                about it being a better thing to travel 
                hopefully than to arrive. Peter Crossley-Holland’s 
                Lullaby for violin and strings 
                is another very tiny piece, quite charming 
                in its way, and beautifully performed 
                by Richard Howarth. 
              
 
              
The next seven tracks 
                belong to the Northern Chamber Orchestra, 
                and they begin with a fascinating piece 
                by the Spaniard Joaquin Turina. This 
                is La Oracion del Torero, ‘The 
                Bullfighter’s Prayer’, originally composed 
                in 1925 for string quartet. It has transferred 
                to string orchestra most effectively, 
                and the players under the talented Nicholas 
                Ward capture its alternating moods of 
                vigour and contemplation. 
              
 
              
The viola is not well 
                blessed with solo repertoire, compared 
                at any rate to the violin and the cello, 
                so it was good to come across this very 
                lovely short Elegy by Herbert 
                Howells, composed in 1917 and played 
                here with great feeling by the orchestra’s 
                principal violist Richard Muncey. The 
                short booklet note comments strangely 
                that it was composed ‘soon after’ Vaughan 
                Williams’ Tallis Fantasia. Well 
                that work was written in 1910 – seven 
                years later is hardly ‘soon’, and, apart 
                from a shared contemplative Englishness, 
                there seems little point in the reference. 
              
 
              
Gossec’s D major Symphony 
                is a harmless enough little Classical 
                work, with some comically naïve 
                moments, but also a genuinely attractive 
                central Andante. Purcell’s great 
                G minor Chacony is hard to ruin, 
                but the deafening harpsichord continuo 
                here comes close to doing so, adequate 
                though the string playing is. This part 
                of the programme ends with the only 
                real ‘lollipop’ on the disc, Massenet’s 
                swooning Last Sleep of the Virgin, 
                in a version for cello and strings. 
                Robert Glenton projects the solo part 
                with suitable intensity and in some 
                style. 
              
 
              
Back to the Camerata 
                for the final item, David Ellis’s excellent 
                Suite Française. This 
                brief sequence of movements is based 
                on melodies Ellis found in the books 
                of ‘Danceries’ by the 16th 
                century French composer Claude Gervais, 
                making this a kind of companion piece 
                to Warlock’s Capriol Suite. Like 
                Warlock, Ellis dresses up the tunes 
                with some quite acerbic harmonies, without 
                ever traducing their essential nature. 
                Once more, the Camerata give a polished 
                performance; noteworthy is the splendidly 
                rich corporate tone in the Pavane, 
                and the witty, inventive Galliard 
                makes a fine conclusion to this 
                unassuming but highly enjoyable disc. 
              
Gwyn Parry-Jones