Beat Furrer is one of the biggest names in the European avant garde, honoured in this London Sinfonietta tribute. Furrer founded Klangforum Wien 25 years ago and is a charismatic conductor, so it was good to hear how the London Sinfonietta responded to him.
Highlight of the programme was Nuun (1995-6) almost a classic by contemporary music standards. Scored for two pianos and pairs of other instruments, it's a series of constantly evolving dialogues that repeat and re-form in myriad combinations. Nuun flows like a river in flood, with dizzying whirlpools of sound, often circular, but dominated by a powerful kinetic thrust. The two pianos, played by Rolf Hind and Zubin Kanga, act like a kind of mad dual metronome, shaping rhythyms that disintegrate, reintegrate and re-surface like undercurrents propelling the piece forward. The two clarinets (Mark van der Wiel and Andrew Webster) form a secondary pair of "metronomes", also at opposite sides of the platform, giving underlying coherence to the wild turbulence around them. The high bright B flat clarinet merges with the darkness of contrabass, creating mysterious, delicious confluence. Later a sequence of extremely short-breathed chords opens out, adding clarity. Densely-textured as Nuun is, it's inventive, imaginative and expressive. The recording, on Kairos, is much more vivid than this live performance would suggest, but that's because it's Furrer's own orchestra, Klangform Wien (conducted by Peter Eotvos) for whom Furrer's idiom is second nature. The London Sinfonietta will get there in time.
Before the concert, Furrer spoke about a visit he made to Istanbul where he heard an imam calling the community to prayer. The voice moved from chest to head, creating resonances which could carry over space. The result was Xenos (2008) which has since inspired Xenos II (2009) and Xenos III (2010). Long, firm brass chords call out confidently, replaced by gentler woodwinds. Again, the idea of dialogue and communication. Particularly striking, though, was the extended quiet section, where chords seem to oscillate in relative silence. Also interesting was the use of accordion (Ian Watson), bringing in an altogether unexpected but apposite element. Xenos feels like sublimated voice. Towards the end, the piece dissipates gently, in low murmurs like the sound of breathing.