David Matthews at 60: Visions of reality

Musical Times, Spring 2003 by Hyde, Thomas

Matthews confesses to still not being entirely happy with the score and has not ruled out further revisions (it was substantially revised in 1980-81). Nevertheless, the work demonstrates his exceptional abilities as an orchestrator and a gift for spinning a generous melodic line (ex.1), which may reveal the influence of informal studies with Nicholas Maw early in his career.

Ex.1 is typical of a Matthews melodic line in its broadly triadic construction (though unrestrained to a particular key), its use of wide intervals for heightened expressive effect and its potential for extension via little motifs within itself. If some of Matthews's later orchestral works have moved away from the overtly lush soundworld of September music, then the melodic style has also been simplified, at times into taking on an almost folk-like character, as comparison with the opening melody of Burnham Wick composed some eighteen years later demonstrates (ex.2).

September music was, appropriately, written in the month of its title, and its germinal chord (ex.3a) was also the starting point for the first of Matthews's four large-scale symphonic poems, In the dark time, conceived as `October to March music' and, as in the earlier piece, composed during the months that inspired it. The chord in ex.3a permeates much of the harmony of In the dark time, most notably the atmospheric introduction. Although Matthews accepts that `it is true that I often base pieces on a chord, it can often be the "verticalisation" of a melody [...] I do usually start with melodies rather than chords.'7 Since his melodies are often loosely triadic, one is not surprised therefore to find this also the case with his harmony (ex.3a can be clearly seen as a B(flat) major chord in second inversion with an added G, A(flat) and D major triad at the top). This chord is fashioned from the four-note motif (ex.3b) that is spelt out in the opening bars of In the dark time. The motif also produces an important horn theme (ex.3c) also heard in the introduction.

The landscape's change through the seasons is not depicted in any literal way but does give the work its shape. After the introduction, the first part of the piece is an extended allegro that builds to a series of terrific climaxes containing what, for me, remains the singularly most rivetting orchestral passage Matthews has written so far (see fig.23 in the score). It is also a fine example of the interplay of differing layers of fast and slow in his music. The strings hurtle downwards on to a pedal note, against which the brass release music of tremendous violence and exhilaration, gestures which are immediately heard again but seemingly from a distance, due to the fact that the brass are muted on the repeat. Matthews has defined symphonic music as being one which `contrasts dynamic energy with passivity'.8 Here stasis, flamboyant gesture and terrific driving momentum collide in a truly exciting context.

Matthews has always aimed at composing music that is fast not only in terms of the speed of notes but is also genuinely fast because of the rate of its harmonic progressions. Even when he approaches a John Adams-like minimalist drive, as in the second movement of the Fourth Symphony, the music still seems propelled forward as much harmonically as rhythmically. Interestingly, in September music the faster scherzo music (the central panel of the work's tripartite structure) is relatively static, with 'fast' ornate and florid gestures in wind and strings set against static chords, so that the music as a whole appears suspended. In contrast, the slower rhapsodic music has the greater sense of momentum and harmonic direction. Throughout Matthews's orchestral music there exist passages where layers of music at different speeds are set-off against each other, allowing him to mutate seamlessly from slow brooding moments to fast scherzos.