Peter Maxwell Davies - Strathclyde Concertos Nos. 7 and 8

Peter MAXWELL DAVIES (1934-1026)

Strathclyde Concerto No.7 for Double Bass and Orchestra

Strathclyde Concerto No.8 for Bassoon and Orchestra

A Spell for Green Corn: The MacDonald Dances

Scottish Chamber Orchestra 

Duncan McTier (Double bass)

Ursula Leveaux (Bassoon)

James Clark (Violin)

Peter Maxwell Davies (conductor)

rec. Usher Hall, Edinburgh, November 1993

The set of ten Strathclyde Concertos came into being following a commission from the Strathclyde Regional Council and the Scottish Chamber Orchestra and were composed between 1987 and 1996. They include six for solo instruments (oboe, cello, clarinet, flute, double bass and bassoon), double concertos for horn and trumpet and violin and viola, one for woodwind sextet, with the cycle completed by one for orchestra.

 

I well remember the first double bass concerto I heard. It was on an old vinyl disc and was by Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf (1739-1799) - he wrote three. I found it weird. It sounded artificial to me; as if it had been written merely to prove it could be done, though I’m sure that was not the case. However, there were no such thoughts going through my head when I listened to the Master of the Queen's Music’s Strathclyde Concerto No.7. The facility with which soloist plays is massively impressive with Duncan McTier - to whom the concerto is dedicated - making it sound easy to get round the huge instrument in a starring role when usually it is merely a chorus member. The sumptuously rich sounds that both composer and soloist coax from the instrument has it sound more like a cello at times and sometimes even close to a viola. The music is beautifully lyrical, though with its share of the mournful and the terse sections. Characteristic references appear regularly in Sir Peter’s works identifying his huge affection for his adopted country. What it shows is that though it is an instrument that is mostly confined to a ‘background’ role the double bass deserves having more composers explore its potential as a solo instrument. In the right hands it can reveal considerable beauty.

 

The eighth concerto, for bassoon, is also played here by its dedicatee and opens with a flurry of notes from the strings and woodwind. The soloist then enters with a darkly serious cry from the heart, the accompanying instruments mirroring the sombre mood. That mood gradually changes becoming lighter before timpani break through to signal another direction with bassoon, strings and woodwind sharing the action. After some false climaxes the movement fades away. The much shorter second movement opens with a pithy statement from the soloist. This expands and despite various attempts to undermine its role by the strings and timpani the bassoon maintains its course towards a gentle close. The last movement opens with a cadenza which shows the technical capabilities of the soloist to great effect. The orchestra gradually interrupts the bassoon’s musing but neither the orchestra nor outbursts from its timpani can alter the soloist’s course towards a plaintive finish. As with the double bass there are not so many concertos for bassoon but this superb addition to its repertoire shows that it should be given a starring role more often. 

One of Sir Peter’s wonderful Scottish folk-influenced works closes the disc. Its inspiration is taken from George Mackay Brown’s An Orkney Tapestry. This is prefaced by the line “Let not plough be put to acre except a fiddle cross first the furrow”. A Spell for Green Corn is a marvellously evocative work for violin and orchestra and is from the same stable as his 1985 work An Orkney Wedding, with Sunrise and Farewell to Stromness. A review in the Wiener Zeitung in 1994 said of it that “... this seemingly simple music conjures up a magic which probably only those who know the Orkneys can fully comprehend. And yet it is neither a question of colour nor of patriotism but of music rooted in the nature and the people of the Orkneys. For me, with its easily grasped tunes and grand, even anthem-like architecture, it is one of the loveliest, most satisfying violin concertos of the twentieth century at the very least.” Fulsome praise indeed but fully deserved. I shall not attempt to describe it any better. Once again it is played on this disc by the soloist who gave its première but who is not, this time, its dedicatee. That honour went to the fiddler Donald MacDonald, hence the subtitle The MacDonald Dances. The disc, previously issued on Collins Classics, and recorded in 1993 is as fresh as when it was first released. With the composer at the helm it is as authoritative as it gets and chock full of brilliant playing by both soloists and orchestra.

 

Steve Arloff