Peter Maxwell Davies (1934-2016)

Started by bhodges, May 02, 2007, 07:24:31 AM

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San Antone

Quote from: Maestro267 on November 24, 2024, 09:20:20 AMExplain what happened then. What purpose does their abrasive, hard-to-crack music serve? They make the liner notes full of stuff like it reflects the sea but it's not RVW Sea Symphony/NRK Scheherazade good depictions of the sea. If it's not for complexity's sake, what is it for then?

I've read some about Brian Ferneyhough's ideas about why he writes such as he does. 

There is an aspect he is going for which is a product of writing music which approaches the limit of human capability.  But the idea of what a musician can play is similar to the limits of athletic accomplishment.

For years the 4 minute mile was considered the fastest a human could run, but it was not long until that record was broken.  Pushing human endurance and capability in sports as well as music is something some find inspiring.

Ferneyhough has said that he doesn't really expect his music to be performed note-perfect (at least as of the time he published it), but he is very interested in the performance that results from a group of musicians trying their best to play the music as notated.

John Cage wrote the Freeman Etudes for the violinist Paul Zukofsky (commissioned by Betty Freeman in 1977).  Zukofsky asked Cage for music that would be notated in a conventional manner, which he assumed Cage was returning to in Etudes Australes, and as precise as possible. Cage understood the request literally and proceeded to create compositions which would have so many details that it would be almost impossible to perform them. In 1980 Cage abandoned the cycle, partly because Zukofsky attested that the pieces were unplayable.

However, Violinist Irvine Arditti expressed an interest in the work and, by summer 1988, was able to perform Books I and II at a much faster tempo than anyone else, thus proving that the music was, in fact playable. (info taken from the Wikipedia article)


Mandryka

#121
Quote from: Maestro267 on November 22, 2024, 06:49:57 AMI really don't know. It does feel a bit like complexity for complexity's sake. Same goes for a lot of the avantgardists. Schnittke's music, while complex, has heart, has empathy. Whereas I feel that's missing from the likes of PMD, Birtwistle, Boulez et al.

In the case of Birtwistle, of course some of it (The Mask of Orpheus for example)  is stage music and demands not only to be seen but to be studied. In the purely musical pieces, maybe the music is complex to play, but I don't feel complexity as a listener -- what I appreciate is hard to explain. Somehow it's "alive" - alive because it's so innovative. Here, try this Antiphonies for piano and orchestra, it's one of the pieces I like the most

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srLidQOIBpg

or this sensual piece, The Grimethorpe Aria

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaqB_q6t6P4
Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

Mandryka

Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

Mandryka

Quote from: lordlance on November 21, 2024, 03:50:57 AMWhy is PMD being singled out? Pretty much all modern music is complex and dissonant. A

I'm not sure I agree with that. IT may be was true 20 or 30 years ago, but I don't think it's true any longer.
Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

foxandpeng

Quote from: lordlance on November 21, 2024, 03:50:57 AMWhy is PMD being singled out? Pretty much all modern music is complex and dissonant. And besides complexity isn't bad, no? Not that I am enthralled by his music but I've seen this being said for some other composer too so it's puzzling to me. Perhaps PMD's complexity isn't alluring unlike others'...

I really appreciate PMD, but it would be fair to suggest that in a world of dissonance and complexity, he is is both dissonant and complex on a large scale.
"A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people ... then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbour — such is my idea of happiness"

Tolstoy

Spotted Horses

In my limited exposure I wasn't struck with complexity of the music, but a sprawling character without explicit form, in which a narrative thread is difficult to tease out, but maybe you don't have to.
Formerly Scarpia (Scarps), Baron Scarpia, Ghost of Baron Scarpia, Varner, Ratliff, Parsifal, perhaps others.

Mandryka

#126
Quote from: relm1 on November 19, 2024, 05:28:23 AMAny recommendations on the naxos quartets?  Which is the best of the series or the first one to jump into?

I suggest you listen to the second movement of the 7th quartet, S Giovanni dei Fiorentini.
Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

Mandryka



Anyone managed to digest Pappano's 10th symphony?
Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

foxandpeng

#128
Quote from: Mandryka on December 25, 2024, 09:17:30 AM

Anyone managed to digest Pappano's 10th symphony?

The verdict on PMD #10 is still unclear, for me, at least. Like all of the extant symphony recordings, PMD's 10 takes patience. I don't really know what to make of his attempts to pay homage to Borromini (either here or in his Naxos Quartet 3). Is his music reminiscent of Borromini's architectural style? Who knows?

I know it is entirely personal, but baritone and other vocal contributions to symphonic work doesn't endear me.

Where that is absent, I find greater interest.
"A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people ... then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbour — such is my idea of happiness"

Tolstoy

Mandryka

#129
Quote from: foxandpeng on March 15, 2025, 02:36:43 PMWise chap. Nørgård pips him, I think, but not by much.

What do you make of 6, which seems very easy going to me? I've only just discovered it. 8 also seems rather fine

Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

foxandpeng

I like both 6 and 8 very much. I think 6 is perhaps my preferred PMD symphony. It is certainly amongst the most accessible... all require repeated listens, of course. For me, at least.
"A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people ... then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbour — such is my idea of happiness"

Tolstoy

Mandryka

Quote from: foxandpeng on March 16, 2025, 04:18:19 PMI like both 6 and 8 very much. I think 6 is perhaps my preferred PMD symphony. It is certainly amongst the most accessible... all require repeated listens, of course. For me, at least.

Yes, I'm really impressed by 6. My radar is telling me that it's "great" music.

Why is there no good book on PMD? Has anyone seen Richard McGregor (ed.) Perspectives on Peter Maxwell Davies?


Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

relm1

A few days ago, I began a traversal of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies symphonies.  I find it illuminating when reviewing the complete cycle of a composer in order.  I've started with Simon Rattle's performance of No. 1 and find it very good and not as intimidating as I remember.  It is representative of British composers born in the 1930's from the Manchester School (the group of composers born in the 1930's who studied at Manchester University in the 1950's such as Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, Alexander Goehr, Harrison Birtwistle, etc.). 

Arthur Butterworth, a composer from Manchester who was born a decade earlier said the Manchester School were entirely different composers though just a decade apart.  Arthur served in World War 2 and felt his influences were Sibelius and Vaughan Williams where those born just a few years later were more influenced by serialism and the Second Viennese School (Schoenberg, Berg, Webern). 

Just to explain, the Second Viennese School were a group of composers (most famously Schoenberg, Berg, Webern) who adhered to an approach, a methodology using pitch serialism (randomness and absent of tonality).  There was no pitch center.  Not all their works followed this approach because they could be very neo-romantic and traditional too, but were experimenting with atonality and random melodic pitches thinking this was the future course of tonality.  Think how Beethoven pushed the boundaries of structure, harmony, and form but revolutionized music in that approach.  Mahler did the same.  The Second Viennese School felt they were on the cusp of the same.  They still felt they had a foot in the door of tradition though. 

I very much enjoyed the Symphony No. 1.  It was colorful and full of drama but not as abstract as I remembered it.  I think those who like Hans Werner Henze, Per Norgard, Kaija Saariaho, John McCabe, Hans Abrahamsen, Webern, etc., won't find much to fear here.  The music has one foot in atonality and one foot in tradition.  I was surprised by how colorful the music was.  It is a bit rhapsodic (free flowing) in contrast to something like late Scriabin which has a very clear narrative, but was overall enjoyable and I look forward to hearing his next symphony.

His Symphony No. 2 was good and very colorful with much use of tuned percussion like his first symphony.  One thing I've noticed is sometimes the slower movements are loud but the faster movements are quiet.  Reminds me a little of Ralph Vaughan Williams in his Symphony No. 5 in that the fast movement was quiet.  I'm realizing Davies isn't as intimidating as his reputation.  This is no more difficult than anything from Henze or Per Norgard (whose symphonic cycle I traversed a week or two ago and also greatly enjoyed) or what I've heard from John McCabe.

Next was his hour-long Symphony No. 3, a dramatic work here with emotional depth, it seems like a personal work with some Mahlerian heft.  The outer movements were bold and generally intense with fine build ups and climaxes.  Interestingly, they are also slow and dramatic but the two inner movements are quicker though quiet.  I found the structure to make sense and wasn't as random as I recall on my first hearing.  The work that accompanied this disc was "Cross Lane Fair" which was very enjoyable.  It felt like Celtic Dances, was very entertaining in an almost Malcolm Arnold way with light dances, romance, darkness, and humor.  I don't understand why this isn't more popular.  It's very good music, accessible, thematic, fun, and full of exciting moments.  It also reminded me of Rodeo from Copeland and Charles Ives New England Holidays.  I really enjoyed this disc partly because of the emotional and stylistic range.  All very good music, not too difficult. 

Something I'm noticing when traversing a symphony cycle by a composer, I enjoy music I wouldn't have otherwise enjoyed.  At this point, I'm actually looking forward to what's next because I hear how No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3 made sense moving one to the next.  This is only the first or second time I've ever heard these and they aren't scary or overly complex, they make sense and you get that greater clarity when going in order somewhat back to back.  I'm basically doing a symphony or two a day so it might take me five or six days to get through them all, but these works make more sense contextually.  I'm "getting it".  I do tend to be someone who prefers hearing a work in its entirety.  For instance, I want to hear John McCabe's epic ballet duology, "Arthur Pendragon" which I believe must exist somewhere.  I don't want to hear the death scene without hearing all that lead up to it and at four hours, that probably is a very unusual way of experiencing new music, but it's my preference.  I guess I'm a completist.  I sort of wanted to hear Alun Hoddinott's complete cycle but since it looks like No. 1 (and a few others) aren't available, I'll pass for now.

Currently listening to Maxwell Davies' Symphony No. 4.  I'm no longer thinking this is overly difficult music.  This work is scored for a Beethoven sized classical orchestra (2.2.2.2/2.2.0.0/timp/str) but there are auxiliary wind doublings (alto flute, piccolo, English horn, bass clarinet, contrabassoon), plus extensive use of the timpani so it is hard to notice the smaller forces.  You don't really get themes but you get tone paintings.  I feel what he's saying emotionally, but it isn't lyrical.  It doesn't feel abstract, just fragmented and with sudden tonal shifts but it also makes sense.  I'd imagine the audience who first heard Debussy had the same reaction, just not knowing what to make of it. 

"The audience seemed rather disappointed: they expected the ocean, something big, something colossal, but they were served instead with some agitated water in a saucer." – from Pierre Lalo at the 1905 world premiere. 

"Last night's concert began with a lot of impressionistic daubs of color smeared higgledy-piggledy on a tonal palette, with never a thought of form or purpose except to create new combinations of sounds. ... One thing only was certain, and that was that the composer's ocean was a frog-pond and that some of its denizens had got into the throat of every one of the brass instruments." – Karl Muck, conductor of the US premiere of La Mere, 1907

I don't think Maxwell Davies symphonies are as radical as Debussy must have felt in his time, but the point I want to make is today we hear La Mer as a coherent example of impressionism but it was bewildering and incoherent to those who first heard it.  I think Maxwell Davies might seem that way too but it isn't incoherent or rambling, just not thematic or lyrical.  One thing I'm realizing though is that the music is expressive, dramatic, colorful, and finely crafted.  It demands careful focus of the listener's attention.  I think when I first heard this music, I found it nonsensical but that's not the case anymore.  It is colorful, sophisticated and refined, routed in formal and classical structure such as motets or dance/marches though generally atonal except when it's not like "Cross Lane Fair".  But perhaps that was very common of artists who grew up in the 1950's.  Such as how Bob Dylan struggled between folk music, traditionalism, and experimentation kind of pissing off everyone.  Maybe PMD was the Bob Dylan of the classical world, seeming like a traditionalist because he wrote motets, medieval and Renaissance music, madrigals, as well as Scottish themes.  To me, this is characteristic of English music.  Malcolm Arnold is full of this approach though embracing tonality.

Symphony No. 5 is either more traditional or I'm getting more used to his style.  This is the shortest of his symphonies (so far at least) at 26 minutes.  There is also a big theme at 10 minutes making this feel somewhat like Sibelius.  It's probably the first time I heard a big theme and it's very climactic.  No. 5's big theme: https://youtu.be/Lgb95pR-ZUo?t=616

Symphony No. 6 is a big symphony for large orchestra and maybe my favorite so far.  It was dramatic, almost Mahlerian and in three movements, two large outer movements that are slow and a central shorter movement that is quick but not very loud.  As the work neared it's conclusion, I realized this was very tonal music, just with dense harmonies.  There was a big tune, almost something from Malcolm Arnold.  I never noticed it before.  The final moments were powerful and tense.  We hear the orchestra dissolve with horns interrupting as it fades away until a final mighty outburst.  That really reminded me of the final percussive doomed scream in Mahler's Symphony No. 6.

Compare Mahler Symphony No. 6 ending: https://youtu.be/25tSq_dYL3c?t=5162
To Maxwell Davies Symphony No. 6 ending: https://youtu.be/RQUemd5gPH4?t=2885

The rest of the disc is an absolute joy featuring a symphonic poem called "Time and the Raven" which felt a bit like Richard Strauss's "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks" in its virtuosity, fun, and drama.  It's quite fun and accessible.  Next was Maxwell Davie's "An Orkney Wedding with Sunrise", I think here he's at his most accessible.  A very charming piece with bagpipes that never overstays its welcome.  It reminded me of Malcolm Arnold and a bit of Rodeo by Copeland.  This was a very fine disc, my favorite of the set so far.

Next is Symphony No. 7.  Another very fine, exciting, and dramatic symphony.  I read that PMD considers this to be end of his early symphonic cycle.  The next three symphonies being independent from each other and the cycle.  Some of it, like the second movement, reminds me something that could be in a class 1950's film.  This music is very colorful, tuneful, and dynamic with huge climaxes.  In his notes, he says he quotes from Haydn (Haydn's string quartet, op. 20) but through late 20th century optics.  The last movement revisits themes from the prior movements.  It's actually a very interesting structurally.  The prior sections become more and more concentrated (shortened) than in a traditional rondo.  Here it becomes fragmented but always making sense musically.  It ends alluding to the opening of the Symphony No. 1 as a cycle but in a tumultuous way.  I think this is my favorite of his endings to a symphony.  It builds and builds becoming more and more fragmented.  I believe PMD might have believed this would be his last symphony.

I'm not sure if this symphony has been commercially recorded.  I can't find it on Presto or ArkivMusic, not a commercial recording on youtube.  What I found to listen to it was the premiere concert performance.  It's a very fine work that is colorful, dramatic, and lyrical (in a late 20th century style). 

The Symphony No. 8 (Antarctica) is the only one I heard performed live.  It was commissioned in association with the 50th anniversary of the film Scott of the Antarctic which was scored by Ralph Vaughan Williams and which he adapted and expanded on his own Symphony No. 7 "Sinfonia Antartica" (1952).  Being a huge fan of RVW, I was expecting something with a similar cinematic feel from PMD.  I didn't get that.  I do recall the sense of fractures, disturbances from the stillness, and desolation but not really hearing the mood, exotic colors, or lyricism in RVW's work.  It was also interesting that PMD visited Antarctica on his preparation for this work.  I feel like sounds from that experience found its way into this work.

It begins with angst and rugged landscapes that soon subside to cold winds and frost.  The music is full of color through harp, celesta, and tuned percussion.  In some places it reminded me of Charles Ives' "The Unanswered Question" in how soft string chords are interrupted by brass and woodwind chatter.  I wonder if this is part of what PMD heard when he was there.  In this work, there wasn't really a big tune as I had heard in his Symphonies No. 5, 6, and 7 and was hoping for though we get close to that especially in the slow movement.  Interestingly, he composed a symphonic poem called "High on the Slopes of Terror" which is from the same year and title comes from the journal of Captain Scott whose doomed expedition was the source of RVW's Sinfonia Antarctica. 

"Blizzard followed blizzard, but in a light that was little better than complete darkness they staggered on. Sometimes they found themselves high on the slopes of Terror on the left of the track, sometimes diving on the right amid crevasses and confused ice disturbance." – Captain Robert Scott in the journal from his last expedition

This twenty minute piece makes a great introduction or postlude to PMD's Symphony No. 8 (Antarctica).  I quite like the way the symphony ends, somewhat ambiguously, fading into the abyss.

The Symphony No. 9 is a commemorative work for Queen Elizabeth II's Diamond Jubilee. It unfolds as a single arc with two connected parts that run about 25 minutes total.  I don't think it is commercially available so I listened to a performance on youtube with Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, Vasily Petrenko.  From the very first notes, you're drawn into a slow, weighty introduction that feels almost like the echo of medieval plainsong inside a cathedral: ancient, spacious, quietly reverent with trumpet fanfares trying to be ceremonial.  The orchestra erupts with brass blazing, rhythms suddenly martial. There's a sense of ceremony here, but also an unmistakable undercurrent of critique woven into the grandeur.  I'll compare it to Charles Ives's in his "New England Holidays" with its collage of styles.  You have happy march, military rhythms, plainsong hymns, all sorts of emotions but all at once.

Midway through, the energy shifts. The music grows inward, slowing to something almost elegiac. PMD draws from old modal harmonies and polyphonic textures, sometimes even tipping his hat to Haydn's string quartets though nothing ever really settles. Dissonances linger, floating unresolved, as if the music itself is wrestling with questions about national identity, memory, and the shadows of war.

Superficially, the work is public, monumental but fills it with private doubts and searching. The arc is both outward-facing and deeply personal. You get the feeling of a national monument carved in sharp musical stone, alive with rhythmic drive and ghostly after-echoes.  The ceremonial brass shines brightly, but always with a certain heaviness. The slow plainsong passages radiate a kind of solemn calm, yet there's tension underneath. What you're left with is a powerful conversation: pomp and reflection, tradition and uncertainty, radiance and shadow.

To my ears, this isn't just a portrait of a monarch's reign. It's a shimmering, uneasy musical structure that holds both the light and darkness of history with modernist edges threaded through with ancient ritual. It asks us not to look away from the questions that still hang in the air.  A very fine and exciting symphony that doesn't quite sound like any of the others I've heard.

Last is his Symphony No. 10 conducted by Antonio Pappano with the London Symphony Orchestra is a choral symphony.  I found it a deeply personal work exploring the life and suicide of a Baroque Italian architect, Francesco Borromini, with a focus on the architect's emotional turmoil.  He wrote this work after being diagnosed with terminal cancer writing it during his treatment.  It's a reflection of a joy to life, a deep retrospective.  When he wrote it in 2014, he was lamenting war, destruction, and wishing for civilization's survival.

The work is in four movements where the outer movements are slow and dramatic where the inner movements are faster and shorter.  The first movement is overall lyrical but with what we understand from this composer by this point, full of multiple lyrical ideas happening simultaneously with sudden, somewhat jarring tonal shifts, and dense harmonies.  But it all makes sense.  There are some grand thematic ideas here that sound like they could have come from early 20th century.

The second movement brings in the chorus and is generally staccato sounding chant-like.  Perhaps this is some of his plainsong influence that seems to be a recurring style in his output.  What's interesting is how plainsong are typically modal which is part of Ralph Vaughan Williams's influence as well through folk melodies.  PMD's Symphony No. 10 is full of religious chants.  Not being religious, he might have been referring to his childhood. 

I found the last movement, marked Adagio to be deeply passionate with the operatic baritone solo.  Almost like an opera aria.  I understand what he meant that symphonies 1-7 are part of a cycle but No. 8, 9, and 10 are outside of that cycle.  I don't think I've heard any other composers' symphonic cycle quite like this. 

Conclusion:
Thus, ends my traversal of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies' symphonies.  These symphonies intimidated me so I avoid them since I heard the first and second as a kid without understanding them but very much enjoyed listening through them this time in their entirety.  He is a significant symphonist and far more lyrical, tonal, and dramatic than I thought, just the tonality is thick and dense.  The lyricism might have layers on top of it.  The drama might shift suddenly, but it is carefully thought through and makes sense.  Most importantly, it's a rewarding listen.  This is music that requires active listening which I love.  I've come to deeply admire this composer whom I didn't really understand before my exploration.  Sir Peter died on March 14, 2016 at 81 years old.

As an epilogue, I have a personal connection to Sir Peter Maxwell Davies that was very significant to me.  In the mid 1990's, he visited my home town for a world premiere commission.  I emailed his managers that I loved composing though was a student.  He personally invited me to the rehearsal and said he'd love to meet me and see some of my music.  His premiere was "A Reel of Seven Fisherman", sort of his Sea Symphony.  At that time in my life, I was very unaware of contemporary music and had NEVER been to a professional orchestral rehearsal.  It was such a transformative experience for me.  I went through the restricted backstage entrance, my name on a guest list, and was told to sit in the completely empty concert hall. 

I couldn't believe I was the only one in that hall, I'd never been to a symphony concert hall where I was the only one in the whole auditorium!  I remember the rehearsal clearly.  The music was complex and I didn't know quite what to make of it.  This might have been the first time I ever heard something never yet heard by anyone other than the performers.  I was sort of hoping for something more English...more Vaughan Williams.  It wasn't that. But what lingered with me was the ending, it was ambiguous and austere.  It reminded me a little of Schoenberg's music which I loved.  Such as how his "Pelleas und Melisande" ending in the tragic, abstract, and mythical.   

Immediately after the rehearsal ended, a sweat soaked man immediately turned to the empty hall and with a smile, signaled to me to approach.  We went to his dressing room, after he rested for a few minutes, we talked about music.   I showed him some of my early music which frankly wasn't good.  Without saying a word, he looked it over and then gave some comments about, orchestration, pacing, and structure.  I recall my never having met a Knight asking him how should I address him?  "Sir Peter"?  He calmly said with a gentle smile, "call me Max".  His advice to me, "Composing is a very difficult life.  If there was any career you could do other than composing...do that instead." 

He didn't mean to discourage me and I didn't interpret it that way.  I was young and stupid so thought, I'm going to compose even if I can't make a career out of it.   In hindsight, I think what he was saying is this is a very tough road you're choosing.  Make sure you know what you're deciding to do, it most likely won't be a successful path so don't waste your life doing something you later realize was a mistake.  He wasn't wrong.  I was too young, stupid, and too cocky to hear what he was saying.  This interview of him is similar to what I recall of him but half as animated.  Much more thoughtful.  Interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e01fvTVUra4

He was very kind, modest, patient, and encouraging.  He was openly gay and as far as I know had no children, but I know firsthand he cared about young idealistic ambitious students like me.  I felt as if someone in has past had been like this to him and he was passing it forward.  I regret not appreciating his music more when he was alive but what a creative force he was!

Mandryka

#133
Quote from: relm1 on July 14, 2025, 05:23:39 AMA few days ago, I began a traversal of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies symphonies.  I find it illuminating when reviewing the complete cycle of a composer in order.  I've started with Simon Rattle's performance of No. 1 and find it very good and not as intimidating as I remember.  It is representative of British composers born in the 1930's from the Manchester School (the group of composers born in the 1930's who studied at Manchester University in the 1950's such as Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, Alexander Goehr, Harrison Birtwistle, etc.). 

Arthur Butterworth, a composer from Manchester who was born a decade earlier said the Manchester School were entirely different composers though just a decade apart.  Arthur served in World War 2 and felt his influences were Sibelius and Vaughan Williams where those born just a few years later were more influenced by serialism and the Second Viennese School (Schoenberg, Berg, Webern). 

Just to explain, the Second Viennese School were a group of composers (most famously Schoenberg, Berg, Webern) who adhered to an approach, a methodology using pitch serialism (randomness and absent of tonality).  There was no pitch center.  Not all their works followed this approach because they could be very neo-romantic and traditional too, but were experimenting with atonality and random melodic pitches thinking this was the future course of tonality.  Think how Beethoven pushed the boundaries of structure, harmony, and form but revolutionized music in that approach.  Mahler did the same.  The Second Viennese School felt they were on the cusp of the same.  They still felt they had a foot in the door of tradition though. 

I very much enjoyed the Symphony No. 1.  It was colorful and full of drama but not as abstract as I remembered it.  I think those who like Hans Werner Henze, Per Norgard, Kaija Saariaho, John McCabe, Hans Abrahamsen, Webern, etc., won't find much to fear here.  The music has one foot in atonality and one foot in tradition.  I was surprised by how colorful the music was.  It is a bit rhapsodic (free flowing) in contrast to something like late Scriabin which has a very clear narrative, but was overall enjoyable and I look forward to hearing his next symphony.

His Symphony No. 2 was good and very colorful with much use of tuned percussion like his first symphony.  One thing I've noticed is sometimes the slower movements are loud but the faster movements are quiet.  Reminds me a little of Ralph Vaughan Williams in his Symphony No. 5 in that the fast movement was quiet.  I'm realizing Davies isn't as intimidating as his reputation.  This is no more difficult than anything from Henze or Per Norgard (whose symphonic cycle I traversed a week or two ago and also greatly enjoyed) or what I've heard from John McCabe.

Next was his hour-long Symphony No. 3, a dramatic work here with emotional depth, it seems like a personal work with some Mahlerian heft.  The outer movements were bold and generally intense with fine build ups and climaxes.  Interestingly, they are also slow and dramatic but the two inner movements are quicker though quiet.  I found the structure to make sense and wasn't as random as I recall on my first hearing.  The work that accompanied this disc was "Cross Lane Fair" which was very enjoyable.  It felt like Celtic Dances, was very entertaining in an almost Malcolm Arnold way with light dances, romance, darkness, and humor.  I don't understand why this isn't more popular.  It's very good music, accessible, thematic, fun, and full of exciting moments.  It also reminded me of Rodeo from Copeland and Charles Ives New England Holidays.  I really enjoyed this disc partly because of the emotional and stylistic range.  All very good music, not too difficult. 

Something I'm noticing when traversing a symphony cycle by a composer, I enjoy music I wouldn't have otherwise enjoyed.  At this point, I'm actually looking forward to what's next because I hear how No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3 made sense moving one to the next.  This is only the first or second time I've ever heard these and they aren't scary or overly complex, they make sense and you get that greater clarity when going in order somewhat back to back.  I'm basically doing a symphony or two a day so it might take me five or six days to get through them all, but these works make more sense contextually.  I'm "getting it".  I do tend to be someone who prefers hearing a work in its entirety.  For instance, I want to hear John McCabe's epic ballet duology, "Arthur Pendragon" which I believe must exist somewhere.  I don't want to hear the death scene without hearing all that lead up to it and at four hours, that probably is a very unusual way of experiencing new music, but it's my preference.  I guess I'm a completist.  I sort of wanted to hear Alun Hoddinott's complete cycle but since it looks like No. 1 (and a few others) aren't available, I'll pass for now.

Currently listening to Maxwell Davies' Symphony No. 4.  I'm no longer thinking this is overly difficult music.  This work is scored for a Beethoven sized classical orchestra (2.2.2.2/2.2.0.0/timp/str) but there are auxiliary wind doublings (alto flute, piccolo, English horn, bass clarinet, contrabassoon), plus extensive use of the timpani so it is hard to notice the smaller forces.  You don't really get themes but you get tone paintings.  I feel what he's saying emotionally, but it isn't lyrical.  It doesn't feel abstract, just fragmented and with sudden tonal shifts but it also makes sense.  I'd imagine the audience who first heard Debussy had the same reaction, just not knowing what to make of it. 

"The audience seemed rather disappointed: they expected the ocean, something big, something colossal, but they were served instead with some agitated water in a saucer." – from Pierre Lalo at the 1905 world premiere. 

"Last night's concert began with a lot of impressionistic daubs of color smeared higgledy-piggledy on a tonal palette, with never a thought of form or purpose except to create new combinations of sounds. ... One thing only was certain, and that was that the composer's ocean was a frog-pond and that some of its denizens had got into the throat of every one of the brass instruments." – Karl Muck, conductor of the US premiere of La Mere, 1907

I don't think Maxwell Davies symphonies are as radical as Debussy must have felt in his time, but the point I want to make is today we hear La Mer as a coherent example of impressionism but it was bewildering and incoherent to those who first heard it.  I think Maxwell Davies might seem that way too but it isn't incoherent or rambling, just not thematic or lyrical.  One thing I'm realizing though is that the music is expressive, dramatic, colorful, and finely crafted.  It demands careful focus of the listener's attention.  I think when I first heard this music, I found it nonsensical but that's not the case anymore.  It is colorful, sophisticated and refined, routed in formal and classical structure such as motets or dance/marches though generally atonal except when it's not like "Cross Lane Fair".  But perhaps that was very common of artists who grew up in the 1950's.  Such as how Bob Dylan struggled between folk music, traditionalism, and experimentation kind of pissing off everyone.  Maybe PMD was the Bob Dylan of the classical world, seeming like a traditionalist because he wrote motets, medieval and Renaissance music, madrigals, as well as Scottish themes.  To me, this is characteristic of English music.  Malcolm Arnold is full of this approach though embracing tonality.

Symphony No. 5 is either more traditional or I'm getting more used to his style.  This is the shortest of his symphonies (so far at least) at 26 minutes.  There is also a big theme at 10 minutes making this feel somewhat like Sibelius.  It's probably the first time I heard a big theme and it's very climactic.  No. 5's big theme: https://youtu.be/Lgb95pR-ZUo?t=616

Symphony No. 6 is a big symphony for large orchestra and maybe my favorite so far.  It was dramatic, almost Mahlerian and in three movements, two large outer movements that are slow and a central shorter movement that is quick but not very loud.  As the work neared it's conclusion, I realized this was very tonal music, just with dense harmonies.  There was a big tune, almost something from Malcolm Arnold.  I never noticed it before.  The final moments were powerful and tense.  We hear the orchestra dissolve with horns interrupting as it fades away until a final mighty outburst.  That really reminded me of the final percussive doomed scream in Mahler's Symphony No. 6.

Compare Mahler Symphony No. 6 ending: https://youtu.be/25tSq_dYL3c?t=5162
To Maxwell Davies Symphony No. 6 ending: https://youtu.be/RQUemd5gPH4?t=2885

The rest of the disc is an absolute joy featuring a symphonic poem called "Time and the Raven" which felt a bit like Richard Strauss's "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks" in its virtuosity, fun, and drama.  It's quite fun and accessible.  Next was Maxwell Davie's "An Orkney Wedding with Sunrise", I think here he's at his most accessible.  A very charming piece with bagpipes that never overstays its welcome.  It reminded me of Malcolm Arnold and a bit of Rodeo by Copeland.  This was a very fine disc, my favorite of the set so far.

Next is Symphony No. 7.  Another very fine, exciting, and dramatic symphony.  I read that PMD considers this to be end of his early symphonic cycle.  The next three symphonies being independent from each other and the cycle.  Some of it, like the second movement, reminds me something that could be in a class 1950's film.  This music is very colorful, tuneful, and dynamic with huge climaxes.  In his notes, he says he quotes from Haydn (Haydn's string quartet, op. 20) but through late 20th century optics.  The last movement revisits themes from the prior movements.  It's actually a very interesting structurally.  The prior sections become more and more concentrated (shortened) than in a traditional rondo.  Here it becomes fragmented but always making sense musically.  It ends alluding to the opening of the Symphony No. 1 as a cycle but in a tumultuous way.  I think this is my favorite of his endings to a symphony.  It builds and builds becoming more and more fragmented.  I believe PMD might have believed this would be his last symphony.

I'm not sure if this symphony has been commercially recorded.  I can't find it on Presto or ArkivMusic, not a commercial recording on youtube.  What I found to listen to it was the premiere concert performance.  It's a very fine work that is colorful, dramatic, and lyrical (in a late 20th century style). 

The Symphony No. 8 (Antarctica) is the only one I heard performed live.  It was commissioned in association with the 50th anniversary of the film Scott of the Antarctic which was scored by Ralph Vaughan Williams and which he adapted and expanded on his own Symphony No. 7 "Sinfonia Antartica" (1952).  Being a huge fan of RVW, I was expecting something with a similar cinematic feel from PMD.  I didn't get that.  I do recall the sense of fractures, disturbances from the stillness, and desolation but not really hearing the mood, exotic colors, or lyricism in RVW's work.  It was also interesting that PMD visited Antarctica on his preparation for this work.  I feel like sounds from that experience found its way into this work.

It begins with angst and rugged landscapes that soon subside to cold winds and frost.  The music is full of color through harp, celesta, and tuned percussion.  In some places it reminded me of Charles Ives' "The Unanswered Question" in how soft string chords are interrupted by brass and woodwind chatter.  I wonder if this is part of what PMD heard when he was there.  In this work, there wasn't really a big tune as I had heard in his Symphonies No. 5, 6, and 7 and was hoping for though we get close to that especially in the slow movement.  Interestingly, he composed a symphonic poem called "High on the Slopes of Terror" which is from the same year and title comes from the journal of Captain Scott whose doomed expedition was the source of RVW's Sinfonia Antarctica. 

"Blizzard followed blizzard, but in a light that was little better than complete darkness they staggered on. Sometimes they found themselves high on the slopes of Terror on the left of the track, sometimes diving on the right amid crevasses and confused ice disturbance." – Captain Robert Scott in the journal from his last expedition

This twenty minute piece makes a great introduction or postlude to PMD's Symphony No. 8 (Antarctica).  I quite like the way the symphony ends, somewhat ambiguously, fading into the abyss.

The Symphony No. 9 is a commemorative work for Queen Elizabeth II's Diamond Jubilee. It unfolds as a single arc with two connected parts that run about 25 minutes total.  I don't think it is commercially available so I listened to a performance on youtube with Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, Vasily Petrenko.  From the very first notes, you're drawn into a slow, weighty introduction that feels almost like the echo of medieval plainsong inside a cathedral: ancient, spacious, quietly reverent with trumpet fanfares trying to be ceremonial.  The orchestra erupts with brass blazing, rhythms suddenly martial. There's a sense of ceremony here, but also an unmistakable undercurrent of critique woven into the grandeur.  I'll compare it to Charles Ives's in his "New England Holidays" with its collage of styles.  You have happy march, military rhythms, plainsong hymns, all sorts of emotions but all at once.

Midway through, the energy shifts. The music grows inward, slowing to something almost elegiac. PMD draws from old modal harmonies and polyphonic textures, sometimes even tipping his hat to Haydn's string quartets though nothing ever really settles. Dissonances linger, floating unresolved, as if the music itself is wrestling with questions about national identity, memory, and the shadows of war.

Superficially, the work is public, monumental but fills it with private doubts and searching. The arc is both outward-facing and deeply personal. You get the feeling of a national monument carved in sharp musical stone, alive with rhythmic drive and ghostly after-echoes.  The ceremonial brass shines brightly, but always with a certain heaviness. The slow plainsong passages radiate a kind of solemn calm, yet there's tension underneath. What you're left with is a powerful conversation: pomp and reflection, tradition and uncertainty, radiance and shadow.

To my ears, this isn't just a portrait of a monarch's reign. It's a shimmering, uneasy musical structure that holds both the light and darkness of history with modernist edges threaded through with ancient ritual. It asks us not to look away from the questions that still hang in the air.  A very fine and exciting symphony that doesn't quite sound like any of the others I've heard.

Last is his Symphony No. 10 conducted by Antonio Pappano with the London Symphony Orchestra is a choral symphony.  I found it a deeply personal work exploring the life and suicide of a Baroque Italian architect, Francesco Borromini, with a focus on the architect's emotional turmoil.  He wrote this work after being diagnosed with terminal cancer writing it during his treatment.  It's a reflection of a joy to life, a deep retrospective.  When he wrote it in 2014, he was lamenting war, destruction, and wishing for civilization's survival.

The work is in four movements where the outer movements are slow and dramatic where the inner movements are faster and shorter.  The first movement is overall lyrical but with what we understand from this composer by this point, full of multiple lyrical ideas happening simultaneously with sudden, somewhat jarring tonal shifts, and dense harmonies.  But it all makes sense.  There are some grand thematic ideas here that sound like they could have come from early 20th century.

The second movement brings in the chorus and is generally staccato sounding chant-like.  Perhaps this is some of his plainsong influence that seems to be a recurring style in his output.  What's interesting is how plainsong are typically modal which is part of Ralph Vaughan Williams's influence as well through folk melodies.  PMD's Symphony No. 10 is full of religious chants.  Not being religious, he might have been referring to his childhood. 

I found the last movement, marked Adagio to be deeply passionate with the operatic baritone solo.  Almost like an opera aria.  I understand what he meant that symphonies 1-7 are part of a cycle but No. 8, 9, and 10 are outside of that cycle.  I don't think I've heard any other composers' symphonic cycle quite like this. 

Conclusion:
Thus, ends my traversal of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies' symphonies.  These symphonies intimidated me so I avoid them since I heard the first and second as a kid without understanding them but very much enjoyed listening through them this time in their entirety.  He is a significant symphonist and far more lyrical, tonal, and dramatic than I thought, just the tonality is thick and dense.  The lyricism might have layers on top of it.  The drama might shift suddenly, but it is carefully thought through and makes sense.  Most importantly, it's a rewarding listen.  This is music that requires active listening which I love.  I've come to deeply admire this composer whom I didn't really understand before my exploration.  Sir Peter died on March 14, 2016 at 81 years old.

As an epilogue, I have a personal connection to Sir Peter Maxwell Davies that was very significant to me.  In the mid 1990's, he visited my home town for a world premiere commission.  I emailed his managers that I loved composing though was a student.  He personally invited me to the rehearsal and said he'd love to meet me and see some of my music.  His premiere was "A Reel of Seven Fisherman", sort of his Sea Symphony.  At that time in my life, I was very unaware of contemporary music and had NEVER been to a professional orchestral rehearsal.  It was such a transformative experience for me.  I went through the restricted backstage entrance, my name on a guest list, and was told to sit in the completely empty concert hall. 

I couldn't believe I was the only one in that hall, I'd never been to a symphony concert hall where I was the only one in the whole auditorium!  I remember the rehearsal clearly.  The music was complex and I didn't know quite what to make of it.  This might have been the first time I ever heard something never yet heard by anyone other than the performers.  I was sort of hoping for something more English...more Vaughan Williams.  It wasn't that. But what lingered with me was the ending, it was ambiguous and austere.  It reminded me a little of Schoenberg's music which I loved.  Such as how his "Pelleas und Melisande" ending in the tragic, abstract, and mythical.   

Immediately after the rehearsal ended, a sweat soaked man immediately turned to the empty hall and with a smile, signaled to me to approach.  We went to his dressing room, after he rested for a few minutes, we talked about music.   I showed him some of my early music which frankly wasn't good.  Without saying a word, he looked it over and then gave some comments about, orchestration, pacing, and structure.  I recall my never having met a Knight asking him how should I address him?  "Sir Peter"?  He calmly said with a gentle smile, "call me Max".  His advice to me, "Composing is a very difficult life.  If there was any career you could do other than composing...do that instead." 

He didn't mean to discourage me and I didn't interpret it that way.  I was young and stupid so thought, I'm going to compose even if I can't make a career out of it.   In hindsight, I think what he was saying is this is a very tough road you're choosing.  Make sure you know what you're deciding to do, it most likely won't be a successful path so don't waste your life doing something you later realize was a mistake.  He wasn't wrong.  I was too young, stupid, and too cocky to hear what he was saying.  This interview of him is similar to what I recall of him but half as animated.  Much more thoughtful.  Interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e01fvTVUra4

He was very kind, modest, patient, and encouraging.  He was openly gay and as far as I know had no children, but I know firsthand he cared about young idealistic ambitious students like me.  I felt as if someone in has past had been like this to him and he was passing it forward.  I regret not appreciating his music more when he was alive but what a creative force he was!


Much appreciated

Did you persevere as a composer?

What helped me tremendously with his music is the metaphor of a long and arduous journey, sometimes exasperating, sometimes tiresome, sometimes thrilling. If I'm in the mood for that then PMD is the best!

I certainly haven't heard all the symphonies. There's an early Symphony 1 by Rattle which I love, and a live 10 with Pappano which I found much more enjoyable than the recorded version. I've known the Downes performance of 3 for ages and sometimes like it, and same for an 8, a concert recording with Ozawa, and the 5th on Naxos. I've never thought about whether the symphonies fall into groups.
Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

relm1

Quote from: Mandryka on July 14, 2025, 06:32:17 AMMuch appreciated

Did you persevere as a composer?

What helped me tremendously with his music is the metaphor of a long and arduous journey, sometimes exasperating, sometimes tiresome, sometimes thrilling. If I'm in the mood for that then PMD is the best!

I certainly haven't heard all the symphonies. There's an early Symphony 1 by Rattle which I love, and a live 10 with Pappano which I found much more enjoyable than the recorded version. I've known the Downes performance of 3 for ages and sometimes like it, and same for an 8, a concert recording with Ozawa, and the 5th on Naxos. I've never thought about whether the symphonies fall into groups.

Much thanks!  I'm still composing, working on my 10th symphony now (confusingly numbered as No. 9 because there is an unnumbered one too).  He was correct about his advice.  Music making is a lousy way to have a career.

I quite liked the performances by other conductors so will check out Downes' No. 3 and Ozawa's No. 5 & 8.  I felt Rattle breathed more in its phrasing. 

vandermolen

Quote from: relm1 on July 14, 2025, 05:23:39 AMA few days ago, I began a traversal of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies symphonies.  I find it illuminating when reviewing the complete cycle of a composer in order.  I've started with Simon Rattle's performance of No. 1 and find it very good and not as intimidating as I remember.  It is representative of British composers born in the 1930's from the Manchester School (the group of composers born in the 1930's who studied at Manchester University in the 1950's such as Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, Alexander Goehr, Harrison Birtwistle, etc.). 

Arthur Butterworth, a composer from Manchester who was born a decade earlier said the Manchester School were entirely different composers though just a decade apart.  Arthur served in World War 2 and felt his influences were Sibelius and Vaughan Williams where those born just a few years later were more influenced by serialism and the Second Viennese School (Schoenberg, Berg, Webern). 

Just to explain, the Second Viennese School were a group of composers (most famously Schoenberg, Berg, Webern) who adhered to an approach, a methodology using pitch serialism (randomness and absent of tonality).  There was no pitch center.  Not all their works followed this approach because they could be very neo-romantic and traditional too, but were experimenting with atonality and random melodic pitches thinking this was the future course of tonality.  Think how Beethoven pushed the boundaries of structure, harmony, and form but revolutionized music in that approach.  Mahler did the same.  The Second Viennese School felt they were on the cusp of the same.  They still felt they had a foot in the door of tradition though. 

I very much enjoyed the Symphony No. 1.  It was colorful and full of drama but not as abstract as I remembered it.  I think those who like Hans Werner Henze, Per Norgard, Kaija Saariaho, John McCabe, Hans Abrahamsen, Webern, etc., won't find much to fear here.  The music has one foot in atonality and one foot in tradition.  I was surprised by how colorful the music was.  It is a bit rhapsodic (free flowing) in contrast to something like late Scriabin which has a very clear narrative, but was overall enjoyable and I look forward to hearing his next symphony.

His Symphony No. 2 was good and very colorful with much use of tuned percussion like his first symphony.  One thing I've noticed is sometimes the slower movements are loud but the faster movements are quiet.  Reminds me a little of Ralph Vaughan Williams in his Symphony No. 5 in that the fast movement was quiet.  I'm realizing Davies isn't as intimidating as his reputation.  This is no more difficult than anything from Henze or Per Norgard (whose symphonic cycle I traversed a week or two ago and also greatly enjoyed) or what I've heard from John McCabe.

Next was his hour-long Symphony No. 3, a dramatic work here with emotional depth, it seems like a personal work with some Mahlerian heft.  The outer movements were bold and generally intense with fine build ups and climaxes.  Interestingly, they are also slow and dramatic but the two inner movements are quicker though quiet.  I found the structure to make sense and wasn't as random as I recall on my first hearing.  The work that accompanied this disc was "Cross Lane Fair" which was very enjoyable.  It felt like Celtic Dances, was very entertaining in an almost Malcolm Arnold way with light dances, romance, darkness, and humor.  I don't understand why this isn't more popular.  It's very good music, accessible, thematic, fun, and full of exciting moments.  It also reminded me of Rodeo from Copeland and Charles Ives New England Holidays.  I really enjoyed this disc partly because of the emotional and stylistic range.  All very good music, not too difficult. 

Something I'm noticing when traversing a symphony cycle by a composer, I enjoy music I wouldn't have otherwise enjoyed.  At this point, I'm actually looking forward to what's next because I hear how No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3 made sense moving one to the next.  This is only the first or second time I've ever heard these and they aren't scary or overly complex, they make sense and you get that greater clarity when going in order somewhat back to back.  I'm basically doing a symphony or two a day so it might take me five or six days to get through them all, but these works make more sense contextually.  I'm "getting it".  I do tend to be someone who prefers hearing a work in its entirety.  For instance, I want to hear John McCabe's epic ballet duology, "Arthur Pendragon" which I believe must exist somewhere.  I don't want to hear the death scene without hearing all that lead up to it and at four hours, that probably is a very unusual way of experiencing new music, but it's my preference.  I guess I'm a completist.  I sort of wanted to hear Alun Hoddinott's complete cycle but since it looks like No. 1 (and a few others) aren't available, I'll pass for now.

Currently listening to Maxwell Davies' Symphony No. 4.  I'm no longer thinking this is overly difficult music.  This work is scored for a Beethoven sized classical orchestra (2.2.2.2/2.2.0.0/timp/str) but there are auxiliary wind doublings (alto flute, piccolo, English horn, bass clarinet, contrabassoon), plus extensive use of the timpani so it is hard to notice the smaller forces.  You don't really get themes but you get tone paintings.  I feel what he's saying emotionally, but it isn't lyrical.  It doesn't feel abstract, just fragmented and with sudden tonal shifts but it also makes sense.  I'd imagine the audience who first heard Debussy had the same reaction, just not knowing what to make of it. 

"The audience seemed rather disappointed: they expected the ocean, something big, something colossal, but they were served instead with some agitated water in a saucer." – from Pierre Lalo at the 1905 world premiere. 

"Last night's concert began with a lot of impressionistic daubs of color smeared higgledy-piggledy on a tonal palette, with never a thought of form or purpose except to create new combinations of sounds. ... One thing only was certain, and that was that the composer's ocean was a frog-pond and that some of its denizens had got into the throat of every one of the brass instruments." – Karl Muck, conductor of the US premiere of La Mere, 1907

I don't think Maxwell Davies symphonies are as radical as Debussy must have felt in his time, but the point I want to make is today we hear La Mer as a coherent example of impressionism but it was bewildering and incoherent to those who first heard it.  I think Maxwell Davies might seem that way too but it isn't incoherent or rambling, just not thematic or lyrical.  One thing I'm realizing though is that the music is expressive, dramatic, colorful, and finely crafted.  It demands careful focus of the listener's attention.  I think when I first heard this music, I found it nonsensical but that's not the case anymore.  It is colorful, sophisticated and refined, routed in formal and classical structure such as motets or dance/marches though generally atonal except when it's not like "Cross Lane Fair".  But perhaps that was very common of artists who grew up in the 1950's.  Such as how Bob Dylan struggled between folk music, traditionalism, and experimentation kind of pissing off everyone.  Maybe PMD was the Bob Dylan of the classical world, seeming like a traditionalist because he wrote motets, medieval and Renaissance music, madrigals, as well as Scottish themes.  To me, this is characteristic of English music.  Malcolm Arnold is full of this approach though embracing tonality.

Symphony No. 5 is either more traditional or I'm getting more used to his style.  This is the shortest of his symphonies (so far at least) at 26 minutes.  There is also a big theme at 10 minutes making this feel somewhat like Sibelius.  It's probably the first time I heard a big theme and it's very climactic.  No. 5's big theme: https://youtu.be/Lgb95pR-ZUo?t=616

Symphony No. 6 is a big symphony for large orchestra and maybe my favorite so far.  It was dramatic, almost Mahlerian and in three movements, two large outer movements that are slow and a central shorter movement that is quick but not very loud.  As the work neared it's conclusion, I realized this was very tonal music, just with dense harmonies.  There was a big tune, almost something from Malcolm Arnold.  I never noticed it before.  The final moments were powerful and tense.  We hear the orchestra dissolve with horns interrupting as it fades away until a final mighty outburst.  That really reminded me of the final percussive doomed scream in Mahler's Symphony No. 6.

Compare Mahler Symphony No. 6 ending: https://youtu.be/25tSq_dYL3c?t=5162
To Maxwell Davies Symphony No. 6 ending: https://youtu.be/RQUemd5gPH4?t=2885

The rest of the disc is an absolute joy featuring a symphonic poem called "Time and the Raven" which felt a bit like Richard Strauss's "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks" in its virtuosity, fun, and drama.  It's quite fun and accessible.  Next was Maxwell Davie's "An Orkney Wedding with Sunrise", I think here he's at his most accessible.  A very charming piece with bagpipes that never overstays its welcome.  It reminded me of Malcolm Arnold and a bit of Rodeo by Copeland.  This was a very fine disc, my favorite of the set so far.

Next is Symphony No. 7.  Another very fine, exciting, and dramatic symphony.  I read that PMD considers this to be end of his early symphonic cycle.  The next three symphonies being independent from each other and the cycle.  Some of it, like the second movement, reminds me something that could be in a class 1950's film.  This music is very colorful, tuneful, and dynamic with huge climaxes.  In his notes, he says he quotes from Haydn (Haydn's string quartet, op. 20) but through late 20th century optics.  The last movement revisits themes from the prior movements.  It's actually a very interesting structurally.  The prior sections become more and more concentrated (shortened) than in a traditional rondo.  Here it becomes fragmented but always making sense musically.  It ends alluding to the opening of the Symphony No. 1 as a cycle but in a tumultuous way.  I think this is my favorite of his endings to a symphony.  It builds and builds becoming more and more fragmented.  I believe PMD might have believed this would be his last symphony.

I'm not sure if this symphony has been commercially recorded.  I can't find it on Presto or ArkivMusic, not a commercial recording on youtube.  What I found to listen to it was the premiere concert performance.  It's a very fine work that is colorful, dramatic, and lyrical (in a late 20th century style). 

The Symphony No. 8 (Antarctica) is the only one I heard performed live.  It was commissioned in association with the 50th anniversary of the film Scott of the Antarctic which was scored by Ralph Vaughan Williams and which he adapted and expanded on his own Symphony No. 7 "Sinfonia Antartica" (1952).  Being a huge fan of RVW, I was expecting something with a similar cinematic feel from PMD.  I didn't get that.  I do recall the sense of fractures, disturbances from the stillness, and desolation but not really hearing the mood, exotic colors, or lyricism in RVW's work.  It was also interesting that PMD visited Antarctica on his preparation for this work.  I feel like sounds from that experience found its way into this work.

It begins with angst and rugged landscapes that soon subside to cold winds and frost.  The music is full of color through harp, celesta, and tuned percussion.  In some places it reminded me of Charles Ives' "The Unanswered Question" in how soft string chords are interrupted by brass and woodwind chatter.  I wonder if this is part of what PMD heard when he was there.  In this work, there wasn't really a big tune as I had heard in his Symphonies No. 5, 6, and 7 and was hoping for though we get close to that especially in the slow movement.  Interestingly, he composed a symphonic poem called "High on the Slopes of Terror" which is from the same year and title comes from the journal of Captain Scott whose doomed expedition was the source of RVW's Sinfonia Antarctica. 

"Blizzard followed blizzard, but in a light that was little better than complete darkness they staggered on. Sometimes they found themselves high on the slopes of Terror on the left of the track, sometimes diving on the right amid crevasses and confused ice disturbance." – Captain Robert Scott in the journal from his last expedition

This twenty minute piece makes a great introduction or postlude to PMD's Symphony No. 8 (Antarctica).  I quite like the way the symphony ends, somewhat ambiguously, fading into the abyss.

The Symphony No. 9 is a commemorative work for Queen Elizabeth II's Diamond Jubilee. It unfolds as a single arc with two connected parts that run about 25 minutes total.  I don't think it is commercially available so I listened to a performance on youtube with Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, Vasily Petrenko.  From the very first notes, you're drawn into a slow, weighty introduction that feels almost like the echo of medieval plainsong inside a cathedral: ancient, spacious, quietly reverent with trumpet fanfares trying to be ceremonial.  The orchestra erupts with brass blazing, rhythms suddenly martial. There's a sense of ceremony here, but also an unmistakable undercurrent of critique woven into the grandeur.  I'll compare it to Charles Ives's in his "New England Holidays" with its collage of styles.  You have happy march, military rhythms, plainsong hymns, all sorts of emotions but all at once.

Midway through, the energy shifts. The music grows inward, slowing to something almost elegiac. PMD draws from old modal harmonies and polyphonic textures, sometimes even tipping his hat to Haydn's string quartets though nothing ever really settles. Dissonances linger, floating unresolved, as if the music itself is wrestling with questions about national identity, memory, and the shadows of war.

Superficially, the work is public, monumental but fills it with private doubts and searching. The arc is both outward-facing and deeply personal. You get the feeling of a national monument carved in sharp musical stone, alive with rhythmic drive and ghostly after-echoes.  The ceremonial brass shines brightly, but always with a certain heaviness. The slow plainsong passages radiate a kind of solemn calm, yet there's tension underneath. What you're left with is a powerful conversation: pomp and reflection, tradition and uncertainty, radiance and shadow.

To my ears, this isn't just a portrait of a monarch's reign. It's a shimmering, uneasy musical structure that holds both the light and darkness of history with modernist edges threaded through with ancient ritual. It asks us not to look away from the questions that still hang in the air.  A very fine and exciting symphony that doesn't quite sound like any of the others I've heard.

Last is his Symphony No. 10 conducted by Antonio Pappano with the London Symphony Orchestra is a choral symphony.  I found it a deeply personal work exploring the life and suicide of a Baroque Italian architect, Francesco Borromini, with a focus on the architect's emotional turmoil.  He wrote this work after being diagnosed with terminal cancer writing it during his treatment.  It's a reflection of a joy to life, a deep retrospective.  When he wrote it in 2014, he was lamenting war, destruction, and wishing for civilization's survival.

The work is in four movements where the outer movements are slow and dramatic where the inner movements are faster and shorter.  The first movement is overall lyrical but with what we understand from this composer by this point, full of multiple lyrical ideas happening simultaneously with sudden, somewhat jarring tonal shifts, and dense harmonies.  But it all makes sense.  There are some grand thematic ideas here that sound like they could have come from early 20th century.

The second movement brings in the chorus and is generally staccato sounding chant-like.  Perhaps this is some of his plainsong influence that seems to be a recurring style in his output.  What's interesting is how plainsong are typically modal which is part of Ralph Vaughan Williams's influence as well through folk melodies.  PMD's Symphony No. 10 is full of religious chants.  Not being religious, he might have been referring to his childhood. 

I found the last movement, marked Adagio to be deeply passionate with the operatic baritone solo.  Almost like an opera aria.  I understand what he meant that symphonies 1-7 are part of a cycle but No. 8, 9, and 10 are outside of that cycle.  I don't think I've heard any other composers' symphonic cycle quite like this. 

Conclusion:
Thus, ends my traversal of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies' symphonies.  These symphonies intimidated me so I avoid them since I heard the first and second as a kid without understanding them but very much enjoyed listening through them this time in their entirety.  He is a significant symphonist and far more lyrical, tonal, and dramatic than I thought, just the tonality is thick and dense.  The lyricism might have layers on top of it.  The drama might shift suddenly, but it is carefully thought through and makes sense.  Most importantly, it's a rewarding listen.  This is music that requires active listening which I love.  I've come to deeply admire this composer whom I didn't really understand before my exploration.  Sir Peter died on March 14, 2016 at 81 years old.

As an epilogue, I have a personal connection to Sir Peter Maxwell Davies that was very significant to me.  In the mid 1990's, he visited my home town for a world premiere commission.  I emailed his managers that I loved composing though was a student.  He personally invited me to the rehearsal and said he'd love to meet me and see some of my music.  His premiere was "A Reel of Seven Fisherman", sort of his Sea Symphony.  At that time in my life, I was very unaware of contemporary music and had NEVER been to a professional orchestral rehearsal.  It was such a transformative experience for me.  I went through the restricted backstage entrance, my name on a guest list, and was told to sit in the completely empty concert hall. 

I couldn't believe I was the only one in that hall, I'd never been to a symphony concert hall where I was the only one in the whole auditorium!  I remember the rehearsal clearly.  The music was complex and I didn't know quite what to make of it.  This might have been the first time I ever heard something never yet heard by anyone other than the performers.  I was sort of hoping for something more English...more Vaughan Williams.  It wasn't that. But what lingered with me was the ending, it was ambiguous and austere.  It reminded me a little of Schoenberg's music which I loved.  Such as how his "Pelleas und Melisande" ending in the tragic, abstract, and mythical.   

Immediately after the rehearsal ended, a sweat soaked man immediately turned to the empty hall and with a smile, signaled to me to approach.  We went to his dressing room, after he rested for a few minutes, we talked about music.   I showed him some of my early music which frankly wasn't good.  Without saying a word, he looked it over and then gave some comments about, orchestration, pacing, and structure.  I recall my never having met a Knight asking him how should I address him?  "Sir Peter"?  He calmly said with a gentle smile, "call me Max".  His advice to me, "Composing is a very difficult life.  If there was any career you could do other than composing...do that instead." 

He didn't mean to discourage me and I didn't interpret it that way.  I was young and stupid so thought, I'm going to compose even if I can't make a career out of it.   In hindsight, I think what he was saying is this is a very tough road you're choosing.  Make sure you know what you're deciding to do, it most likely won't be a successful path so don't waste your life doing something you later realize was a mistake.  He wasn't wrong.  I was too young, stupid, and too cocky to hear what he was saying.  This interview of him is similar to what I recall of him but half as animated.  Much more thoughtful.  Interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e01fvTVUra4

He was very kind, modest, patient, and encouraging.  He was openly gay and as far as I know had no children, but I know firsthand he cared about young idealistic ambitious students like me.  I felt as if someone in has past had been like this to him and he was passing it forward.  I regret not appreciating his music more when he was alive but what a creative force he was!

What a great experience! He sounds really thoughtful. Personally I far prefer the music of Arthur Butterworth and your own to that of PMD.
"Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm" (Churchill).

'The test of a work of art is, in the end, our affection for it, not our ability to explain why it is good' (Stanley Kubrick).

relm1

Quote from: vandermolen on July 16, 2025, 06:35:23 AMWhat a great experience! He sounds really thoughtful. Personally I far prefer the music of Arthur Butterworth and your own to that of PMD.

Very kind, thanks so much!  You might like the naxos album of Symphony No. 6 because it feels somewhat Mahlerian to me and also includes very good tone poems with big themes while still feeling very true to PMD.

vandermolen

Quote from: relm1 on July 17, 2025, 05:15:46 AMVery kind, thanks so much!  You might like the naxos album of Symphony No. 6 because it feels somewhat Mahlerian to me and also includes very good tone poems with big themes while still feeling very true to PMD.
I think that 'Farewell to Stromness' is the only work of his that I enjoy. There was a symphony, influenced by Sibelius which achieved a lot of praise but I found it to be totally unmemorable.
"Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm" (Churchill).

'The test of a work of art is, in the end, our affection for it, not our ability to explain why it is good' (Stanley Kubrick).