I first encountered the music of Luke Whitlock at a concert in Cardiff
during May 2014 which I reviewed for the
Seen and Heard section of
this site. This concert included the first performance of
Flowing
waters, the piece which gives its title to this disc. Indeed the front
cover simply gives the title without any reference to either composer or
performers, which perhaps gives the misleading impression that this is a
disc of purely mood or ‘new age’ music. It is much more than that.
In my review of the live performance I referred to a description by the
composer of
Flowing waters as “an exploration of the audio
spaciousness created in musical minimalism”, but commented further that “in
fact what we had here was what the Luke Whitlock afterwards described to me
as ‘post-minimalism’, where the repetitions of figuration were subjected to
a considerable degree of
rubato which served to obviate the sense
of monotony which can sometimes afflict minimalist works written for solo
instruments and small ensembles. In fact the effect of the
rubato
was to bring the music more into the realm of Chopin, helped by the
composer’s willingness to provide melodic material that was considerably
more interesting than the harmony-based patterning that one finds for
example in Philip Glass. Even so some of the transitions from one section to
another, where the figurations speeded up or slowed down, were rather abrupt
and could perhaps have been more smoothly managed; but the overall results,
a depiction of the River Teign in the composer’s native Devon, were far
removed from the naïve pictorialism of Smetana’s
Vltava – and were
indeed very beautiful indeed.” In this studio recording made some months
later the transitions seem less obvious than they did before, but the
results remain just as beautiful. The sound in the superb Dora Stoutzker
Hall is marvellous.
That same concert also featured two other works by Whitlock which are also
included here. Again I repeat my comments from my earlier review: “The
‘humorous and satirical’
Faust and Mephisto Waltz, derived from
music originally written for a silent film, had a not inappropriate Lisztian
style; and the coruscating fistfuls of notes were confidently handled by
Duncan Honeybourne, even when the resonant acoustic tended to lend a
suspicion of clanginess to the lower registers in the piano tone (this was
much less serious elsewhere). The
Suite antique was essentially
light-hearted music, with the eighteenth century pastiches continually
undermined and interrupted by more modern passages without ever completely
abandoning the formal dance patterns. The gawky
Gavotte, with its
persistent changes of rhythm, brought chuckles from an appreciative
audience. The music did not say anything very serious; but then, of course,
it clearly was never intended to, no more so than Stravinsky’s
Pulcinella.” In this recording the problems with the acoustic no
longer apply but the basic attractiveness of the music and the playing
remain unchanged.
This CD also includes a new work not featured in the concert last year, in
the shape of the
Evening Prayer described by the composer as “a
musical landscape including the sound of distant tolling bells” and acting
as a reflection on spiritual retreats both Christian and Buddhist. It is
very much in the same mould as
Flowing waters, inhabiting the same
reflective world and again very beautiful. Duncan Honeybourne, as
throughout, is peerless in his handling of the music.
I missed the concert given in Cardiff which included Whitlock’s
Wind
Trio, which consists of three programmatic movements entitled
As
shadows fall, Morning escapades and
The midnight journey,
which the composer states “can be performed together or separately”. There
is also evidently an element of personal recollection here. The performers
are perhaps a little too close to the microphones, but the three players are
assured and confident and show clear sympathy with the music. The
Flute
Sonata is a much earlier piece, written while the composer was still a
student but revised some years later. It is basically light-hearted,
approachable without being profound, and shows, as the composer
acknowledges, the influence of Prokofiev and Poulenc. The main theme of the
finale is much too reminiscent of
If I were a rich man from
Fiddler on the Roof for comfort; the composer might well wish to
reflect the sentiments of the song — wouldn’t all composers? — but I am
surprised that he didn’t take the opportunity during his revision to make
the persistent reminders less obvious. Both soloists clearly enjoy
themselves, however, and the sound is less closely observed than in the wind
trio pieces.
In a booklet note full of autobiographical detail, the composer concludes
by saying that “this recording is in many ways a mark of my friends’ and
family’s achievement, as much as it is mine.” He is unduly modest here. It
was a real pleasure to make acquaintance with his music again and I would
earnestly recommend listeners to hear music which is so immediately
communicative as well as displaying the development of Whitlock’s style.
Flowing waters and
Evening prayer, if they are indicative
of the manner in which his writing is moving, make one eager to hear
more.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
Previous review:
John France
