(english below)
Mijn eerste kennismaking met de muziek (en de persoon) van James Macmillan dateert uit een samenwerking met het Vlaams Radiokoor en de maestro zelf in het werk Seven Angels, voor koor, 2 trompetten(alsook natuur trompet en shofar), cello, percussie en harp.
‘De tekst is een uitgebreide tekst uit het boek Openbaring van Johannes, waar zeven engelen op bazuinen moesten blazen en waar bij elke bazuinstoot een nieuw apocalyptisch visioen ontstond, eindigend in het prachtige beeld: “Toen zag ik een nieuwe hemel en een nieuwe aarde, want de eerste hemel en de eerste aarde waren voorbijgegaan, en de zee was niet meer. En ik zag de heilige stad, het nieuwe Jeruzalem, nederdalende uit de hemel van God…’. (Boosey&Hawkes)
Het is een heel dramatisch werk, waarin ieder instrument uitgedaagd wordt in expressie en klank. Zoals ik later in ander orkestwerk en nu in deze Knockroon waltz ontdekte, heeft Macmillan ongelooflijk veel verbeelding en weet hij die verbeelding ook bij zijn luisteraar aan het werk te zetten.
Toeschouwers vertelden me achteraf dat ze letterlijk in het verhaal gezogen werden, maar ook ik op het podium kreeg kippenvel bij iedere uitvoering. De kleine bezetting zorgt ervoor dat ieder instrument heel veel verschillende muzikale taken krijgt om het verhaal te vertellen en houdt het voor het koor qua volume zeer comfortabel waardoor de tekst echt domineert en imponeert.
Deze Knockroon Waltz is heel anders. De wals start in 4/4, wat voor een wals niet alledaags is! Het maakte me nieuwsgierig; soms ontdekte ik een zekere humor, dan weer eerder een gevoel van een plotse koerswijziging die enigszins destabiliseert. Hij speelt met flageoletten en glissandi en zet binnen de wals linkerhand en rechterhand ritmisch zodanig tegenover elkaar dat de wals lijkt te verschuiven, zoals een beeld dat uit elkaar schuift en plots uit 2 panelen bestaat.
Hoewel het een kort stuk is, staat het ondertussen op mijn favorietenlijst en mag het zeker een plekje krijgen in ons standaardrepertoire!
Sir James maakte, joviaal als hij is, ook tijd om enkele vragen voor mijn blog te beantwoorden en zo blijkt nog maar eens hoe muziek bij de uitvoerder een nieuw eigen leven krijgt.
EG:
I am a little puzzled about the title: to my knowledge (for which I apologize is very little on this matter) ‘Knockroon’ is a development project initiated by Prince Charles…
The waltz feels somewhat mysterious for me; a waltz starting in 4 and again and again is interrupted, changes route.
JM:
Knockroon is in fact a development project initiated by Prince Charles. This is in the little East Ayrshire town of Cumnock where I grew up. In recent years I have established a festival there, The Cumnock Tryst – and I have written a number of works for it. This short harp work was composed for one of our visiting musicians. Like a number of other works written for the festival this piece references something in the locality which local people might recognize. Prince Charles has been an enthusiastic supporter of our endeavors and his people let us use Dumfries House as a venue for chamber music. Knockroon Waltz was premiered there.
I can’t really account for the slightly weird feeling to the music! On one level each piece can be seen as a gift but the music ends up seeing and hearing things that are not immediately apparent in everyday life.
EG:
The waltz is dedicated to the great harpist Gabriella dall’Olio. How did your collaboration originate?
JM:
Gabriellla was visiting our festival as a member of The Hebrides Ensemble and I needed to write a solo work for the intimate Tapestry Room in Dumfries House. She gave a mini recital there which included the new piece.
EG:
When I read a book I often wonder, what does someone encourage to write, where does the urge come from? And I think it preoccupies me even more in the case of music writing. How does one get inspired to write music? What are the things that prompt you to start writing a piece? And how does the choice of instrumentation happen?
JM:
Sometimes the initial prompt for a piece of music can be very practical considerations like the scenario I have described above. But beyond these first steps something mysterious kicks in. And a composer can sometimes be surprised by this. There lies a subconscious layer of mental and artistic activity which springs unexpectedly into action once the more prosaic decisions are made. I think this is what happened here too.
EG:
We harpists are obsessed by damping(as you can read in my blog and other interviews). Some composers put our minds at ease by explaining that they love the resonance of the harp when they write and they expect sounds to continue. In your piece I made my own choices about damping, when I thought the raging sound could provide more power or more character, I did let it ring. But honest, it was one of my main concerns whilst playing this piece. How do you experience our damping neurosis 🙂 , in more serious words, do you reflect a lot on this whilst writing?
JM:
Mostly I like the ringing quality of the harp, but there are instances where a much drier sound is required. I’m still on a learning curve as to how and when these differences should be indicated. I am also quite non-proprietorial about my music and I welcome interpretations which can sometimes be wildly different from one player to the next.
EG:
In a symphonic work, every instrument group has its role to be played. What is the role you associate with the colour of a harp part?
JM:
I love using the harp in my orchestral works. There are various and different functions it can provide. I love the sense of clarity in attack it can give to the beginning of phrases, but I also like the way it can interact with other instruments to produce new sonorities and textures, from doubling with a flute to merging with a high tremulous shimmering on the violins. Or simply allowing it to come into its own as a special moment. I always feel there is something magical about the presence of the harp in its various potential appearances in orchestral music.
EG:
A question I also asked other composers; do you experience any shortcomings on the harp, that you feel can be technically improved by the modern harp builders?
JM:
I’d never really thought about this! However, I sometimes try to use very low, fast and loud downward glissandos for dramatic effects. But if I’m not careful it can cause a terrible crackling rumble. Some players seem to avoid it but I can never be sure what’s going to happen.
Listen here to Knockroon Waltz by James Macmillan
My first acquaintance with the music (and the person) of James Macmillan dates from a collaboration with the maestro in the work Seven Angels, for choir, 2 trumpets (as well as natural trumpet and shofar), cello, percussion and harp.
‘The text is an extended one from the Book of Revelation where seven angels were given trumpets to blow and with each trumpet blast a new apocalyptic vision emerged ending in the wonderful image ‘Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God…’. (Boosey&Hawkes)
It is a very dramatic work, in which each instrument is challenged in expression and sound. As I discovered later in other orchestral works and now in this Knockroon Waltz, Macmillan has an incredibly rich imagination and he knows how to put that imagination to work for his listeners too.
Spectators told me afterwards that they were literally sucked into the story, but even I, on stage, got goose bumps with every performance. The small instrumentation ensures that each instrument is given many different musical tasks to tell the story and keeps it very comfortable for the choir in terms of balance so that the text really dominates and impresses.
This Knockroon Waltz is very different. The waltz starts in 4/4, which is quite unusual for a waltz! It immediately made me curious; sometimes I detected a certain wit, other times rather a sense of a sudden change of direction that somewhat destabilizes. He plays with flageolets and glissandi and within the waltz, he contrasts left and right hand rhythmically in such a way that the waltz seems to shift, like a sculpture that shifts apart and suddenly consists of two panels.
Although it is a short piece, it is definitely on my list of favorites and should certainly get a place in our standard repertoire!
Sir James, jovial as he is, also made time to answer some questions for my blog and this shows once again how music takes on a new life of its own through the performer.
E:
I am a little puzzled about the title: to my knowledge (for which I apologize is very little on this matter) ‘Knockroon’ is a development project initiated by Prince Charles…
The waltz feels somewhat mysterious for me; a waltz starting in 4 and again and again is interrupted, changes route.
JM:
Knockroon is in fact a development project initiated by Prince Charles. This is in the little East Ayrshire town of Cumnock where I grew up. In recent years I have established a festival there, The Cumnock Tryst – and I have written a number of works for it. This short harp work was composed for one of our visiting musicians. Like a number of other works written for the festival this piece references something in the locality which local people might recognize. Prince Charles has been an enthusiastic supporter of our endeavors and his people let us use Dumfries House as a venue for chamber music. Knockroon Waltz was premiered there.
I can’t really account for the slightly weird feeling to the music! On one level each piece can be seen as a gift but the music ends up seeing and hearing things that are not immediately apparent in everyday life.
E:
The waltz is dedicated to the great harpist Gabriella dall’Olio. How did your collaboration originate?
JM:
Gabriellla was visiting our festival as a member of The Hebrides Ensemble and I needed to write a solo work for the intimate Tapestry Room in Dumfries House. She gave a mini recital there which included the new piece.
E:
When I read a book I often wonder, what does someone encourage to write, where does the urge come from? And I think it preoccupies me even more in the case of music writing. How does one get inspired to write music? What are the things that prompt you to start writing a piece? And how does the choice of instrumentation happen?
JM:
Sometimes the initial prompt for a piece of music can be very practical considerations like the scenario I have described above. But beyond these first steps something mysterious kicks in. And a composer can sometimes be surprised by this. There lies a subconscious layer of mental and artistic activity which springs unexpectedly into action once the more prosaic decisions are made. I think this is what happened here too.
E:
We harpists are obsessed by damping(as you can read in my blog and other interviews). Some composers put our minds at ease by explaining that they love the resonance of the harp when they write and they expect sounds to continue. In your piece I made my own choices about damping, when I thought the raging sound could provide more power or more character, I did let it ring. But honest, it was one of my main concerns whilst playing this piece. How do you experience our damping neurosis 🙂 , in more serious words, do you reflect a lot on this whilst writing?
JM:
Mostly I like the ringing quality of the harp, but there are instances where a much drier sound is required. I’m still on a learning curve as to how and when these differences should be indicated. I am also quite non-proprietorial about my music and I welcome interpretations which can sometimes be wildly different from one player to the next.
E:
In a symphonic work, every instrument group has its role to be played. What is the role you associate with the colour of a harp part?
JM:
I love using the harp in my orchestral works. There are various and different functions it can provide. I love the sense of clarity in attack it can give to the beginning of phrases, but I also like the way it can interact with other instruments to produce new sonorities and textures, from doubling with a flute to merging with a high tremulous shimmering on the violins. Or simply allowing it to come into its own as a special moment. I always feel there is something magical about the presence of the harp in its various potential appearances in orchestral music.
E:
A question I also asked other composers; do you experience any shortcomings on the harp, that you feel can be technically improved by the modern harp builders?
I’d never really thought about this! However, I sometimes try to use very low, fast and loud downward glissandos for dramatic effects. But if I’m not careful it can cause a terrible crackling rumble. Some players seem to avoid it but I can never be sure what’s going to happen.