Julian Anderson: Book of Hours (world premiere)
28.01.05, CBSO Centre, Birmingham, UK: BCMG/Oliver Knussen
29.01.05, Royal Northern College of Music, Manchester, UK: BCMG/Oliver Knussen
‘…Julian Anderson already has an impressive body of work behind him. Works such as The Stations of the Sun (1998) and Imagin’d Corners (2002) have been widely performed, and his new work, Book of Hours, deserves similar exposure… The skill with which Anderson generates 25 minutes of free-wheeling, exuberant, high-octane music is miraculous… His use of electronics as an extension of natural instrumental sound is highly expressive and gives the music the effect of constantly stretching itself to break into new territory. The moment of crisis, which comes in the second half, is shattering; it’s as if the music has pushed too hard and is transfigured into a powerful cadenza for electronics only…
Anderson knows how to use the listener’s powers of memory and association, and the results in Book of Hours are richly rewarding and surprisingly romantic.’
The Sunday Telegraph (Peter Reed), 6 February 2005
‘…It was the new work occupying the second half, Book of Hours by Julian Anderson (b1967), that stole the show…
…it is his embrace of up-to-the-minute live electronics that captivates the listener. Anderson is clearly an electroacoustic natural….
The score’s inventiveness, like its predominant pace, is headlong, and the electronics…are as vivid as they are sophisticated….
Anderson finds his true voice.’
The Sunday Times (Paul Driver), 6 February 2005
‘The inspiration behind Julian Anderson’s new ensemble work is a pair of medieval artworks now on display in Paris. But Book of Hours is no Pictures at an Exhibition; instead, Anderson has taken the colours, the images and the moods as stimulation for more purely musical processes, expanding the sounds of his 20-piece group with added electronic manipulation and sampling. Yet, so fluid and entrancing are the sonorities that the music almost becomes a metaphor for the visual experience – not exactly Messianic synaesthesia, but more a sonic equivalent to the glories of medieval illumination.
Musically, Anderson plays with the basic idea of a four-note scale, building up a lush of a four-note scale, building up a lush, multi-faceted counterpoint reminiscent of Tippett at his most florid. Part two begins as if a distorted memory of the first part, courtesy of the sound of an old scratched record – perhaps a musical analogy for the damage time can play on a piece of art. But like a good art restorer, the composer gradually brings out the music’s full colour again.
Book of Hours is the latest in the Birmingham Contemporary Music Group’s Sound Investment commissions, which are paid for by members of the ensemble’s regular audience. It has certainly invested wisely in this case and, although the electro-acoustic element seemed something of an add-on when given its own substantial cadenza, the cogency and originality of the conception worked well. Playing under the secure direction of Oliver Knussen, the BCMG revelled in the music’s extravagance of colour.’
The Daily Telegraph (Matthew Rye), 2 February 2005
‘World premieres by Julian Anderson have been a rewarding part of contemporary musical life in Britain over the past decade. We may get to hear fewer of them now that he is set for a Harvard professorship and a fellowship with the Cleveland Orchestra, so it was good that the Birmingham Contemporary Music Group bagged his big new piece, Book of Hours, a commission supported by its Sound Investment scheme. Three years in the making, it is a fitting culmination of his City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra residency.
As its title suggests, Book of Hours is inspired by great works of medieval art, yet it is not an attempt to portray them. The large ensemble and live electronics elaborate on the very basic opening material of four ascending major-scale notes, and as in a book of hours a sequence of connected ideas is illuminated with colour and light. The electronic element (realised here by Lamberto Coccioli and Scott Wilson) represents a new departure for Anderson, and it is used sparingly.
Under Oliver Knussen’s excellent control, the performance opened with shimmering delicacy — the sound softfocused by Anderson’s standards. But as the 25-minute work expands, it becomes more abrasive, building up with pulsating energy, garish effects and spiky rhythms all consistent with his previous scores. The second movement is a speeded up “misremembering” of the first, and opens with the crackle of an old LP; towards the end, the electronics take over and fracture the piece before a quiet close.’
The Times (John Allison), 1 February 2005
‘Julian Anderson has been composer-in-association with the City of Birmingham Symphony since 2002, and has already completed two substantial pieces for the orchestra - a piece for five horns and, a year ago, a one-movement symphony. The third of his commissions, Book of Hours, has been composed for the CBSO's sibling, the Birmingham Contemporary Music Group (BCMG), and turns out to the most substantial and ambitious of these projects so far. It is cast in two movements lasting about 22 minutes, and combines the instrumentalists of BCMG with electronic sounds.
Anderson likens the electronic component in Book of Hours to the gold-leaf applied to a medieval manuscript, and the inspiration for the work came from medieval art, too: the paintings in the Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry and the tapestries of La Dame à Licorne. But there is nothing programmatic about the music, which is built from the simplest of ideas, the first four notes of a major scale. They generate music of real rhythmic and harmonic complexity, however, and much striking imagery, with the second movement beginning as a speeded up reprise of the first but soon veering off into new territory; the electronics provide their own ever more elaborate embroidery and eventually, at the climax, have a lengthy interlude all to themselves.’
The Guardian (Andrew Clements), 31 January 2005
‘Julian Anderson has rewarded Birmingham Contemporary Music Group’s “Sound Investors” with a brilliant new piece, of great imagination and variety, in which he has renewed and reinvigorated his own creative energies.
Book of Hours was inspired by two rich medieval tapestries – Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry and The Lady and the Unicorn – whose opulence and intricacy illuminates the spirit and timbre of the composition. The lavish, filigree colour of medieval art is conveyed by means of live electronics, all devised by the composer himself, which are integrated into the score, adding sonorities beyond the instrumental ensemble.
The work is divided into two equal parts of 12 minutes each. The first concerns time and different ways of counting it, and the second memory, in that it reminisces about the previous section. Anderson finds something fresh and exciting in the use of basic intervals and the Book of Hours was launched by the first four notes of the major scale – a single unifying idea, which recurred in different guises throughout the work.
At the start of the second part, the opening of the piece was played back as if heard on a scratchy LP. This effect was touchingly nostalgic, as if we were returning to the initial material after decades had elapsed. Part two then proceeded by reviewing part one as though in “fast-forward”.
Near the end of the work, a climactic, harmonic crisis led to an extended, clamorous, pulsating solo passage for electronics. In the emptiness of its wake emerged a tentative, probing coda, broaching new musical ideas over random recollections of previous sections. Unexpectedly, the viola struck up a hearty, folk-like jig. Coming so soon after the devastating electronic cataclysm, this poignantly simple melodic material seemed to be re-establishing humanity in a post-apocalyptic world. In a concluding gesture of courageous optimism, the viola had the last word, breaking off in mid-sentence. However, the piece had exhibited such an energy-filled capacity for self-renewal that one could imagine it continuing out of earshot.
Oliver Knussen brought his prodigious musicality to every bar, antennae alert to each colouristic device in a vivid score teeming with invention: Thai tuned gongs contributed an archaic resonance, while a synthesiser deftly influenced the character of the ensemble with its suggestions of harmonium, harp and grand piano.’
The Independent (Paul Conway), 3 February 2005