Kin: my new album

My new album, Kin, released today, contains some of my best recent work plus two recent recordings of older works. It’s available on Spotify, Apple Music/iTunes, Amazon, YouTube, Deezer and other streaming and download services. This blog has information on each of the tracks, including lyrics for the one vocal track. At the end of the blog you can watch a video with musical excerpts from the album.

Why have I called the album ‘Kin’? For two reasons. One is that Kin is the title of the new composition that’s being released on this album for the first time (more on that below). The other reason has more to do with the meaning of the word ‘kin’. Kin are the people we are close to – close to in our minds and hearts – the people we have strong connections to even when they are far away across wide stretches of water (hence the symbolic bridge in the album’s cover picture).

Kin are people we are strongly connected to, but we can be connected to them in a variety of ways: some we are close to biologically, some in other ways. In western culture, traditionally, kin are the people we are related to by blood or marriage. But there have always been adopted children and honorary family members, ‘uncles’, ‘aunts’ and others who, while they may not be biologically related, become true members of the family. Close friends can also become kin or at least share a sense of kinship that has nothing to do with family relations. And in many non-western cultures kinship extends even further than this, reflecting social and other connections far beyond the extended family or adopted relations.

Of course, even the closest of kin can have different personalities, beliefs, tastes etc., and there can be disputes, arguments, even fights between them, however close they may be. Some kin have even been known to ‘disown’ other members of their family (a curious word, ‘disown’: it implies they once had ownership of that person). But no amount of conflict negates or cancels kinship: kin are related to each other in a way that acquaintances or colleagues or even good friends are not.

But in calling this album and the new composition on it ‘Kin’, I had an even broader meaning of kin and kinship in mind: in reality we humans are all connected, through our shared biology, psychology and spirit (and also, if Jung was right, on a deeper level, through the collective unconscious). We are all kin – ‘all people are brothers’, the words that inspired and are sung in the finale of Beethoven’s 9^th symphony, which later became the European anthem. (Now we might say ‘siblings’ instead of ‘brothers’; language usage changes, but the intent is the same.)

The 11 tracks on this album (the last four belonging to the title composition) are also in a sense kin to each other, being all offspring of the same busy imagination. They are:

Life’s Golden Tree  

The title of this orchestral piece is taken from a line in Goethe’s Faust: ‘My dear friend, all theory is grey – life’s golden tree alone is green.’ Life’s Golden Tree is a musical reflection on life in all its forms, on the profusion of life, and life’s constant changes. The musical themes in Life’s Golden Tree change and grow, sometimes evolving, sometimes transforming into something (almost) new, as the music passes through stages that mirror the stages of a human life. (For a fuller discussion and some reflections on theory vs life and the creative process, see the blog ‘Life’s Golden Tree’.)

Lucid Dream

A lucid dream is one in which you’re aware that you’re dreaming – in other words, you’re conscious and unconscious (asleep) at the same time, a powerful reminder that there are (at least) two parts to the human mind.

In most human cultures, through most of human history, dreams have been taken very seriously, seen as a source of wisdom, prophecy, connection with the gods, or (more recently) a source of insight into ourselves and our unconscious motivations. Dreams come from somewhere deep in us, and often tell stories with the resonance of myth, or present to us in symbolic language things we have not previously been conscious of. Lucid dreaming takes the value of dreams to another level, as it gives the potential to consciously control what happens in dreams, or even to engage in the Buddhist practice of dream yoga, said to be a way of realising the true nature of reality.

I chose Lucid Dream as the title of this piece because it suggests this multi-layered inner complexity of the mind, a sense of deeper undercurrents, of there being meaningful and purposeful goings-on below the level of conscious awareness. And – since the English word ‘lucid’ derives from the Latin for ‘light’ – I chose this title because for me it has associations of bringing light into dark places.

Just as I was completing Lucid Dream I heard news of the death of Australian cartoonist-philosopher Michael Leunig, and I decided to dedicate it to his memory, adding as an epigraph my favourite quote from his work: ‘Nothing can be loved at speed’.

Pobblebonk Dance for piano

Pobblebonks, or Eastern Banjo Frogs, are a species of frog found in eastern Australia that have a distinctive ‘bonk’ call. I have not attempted to imitate that sound in this music, but the spirit of the pobblebonk is undoubtedly present here. (There is also a version of Pobblebonk Dance for guitar, which you can hear on my YouTube channel.)

Immortal Diamond

The words ‘immortal diamond’ memorably conclude Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem ‘That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection’. I wrote this music with those two words and all they might represent in the back of my mind, and also to some extent the qualities of a literal diamond, its facets and angles, its purity and clarity, and how these qualities might be reflected in music.

(For more about Immortal Diamond and Hopkins, see the blog, ‘Hopkins, The Heart Falls as Light, and Immortal Diamond’.)

The Heart Falls as Light

The Heart Falls as Light takes its title from lines in the poem ‘The Handsome Heart’ by Hopkins: ‘Heart to its own fine function, |  wild and self-instressed,  / Falls as light…’

My response to these lines is intuitive, and I don’t pretend to know exactly what they mean. ’Self-instressed’ probably means something like ‘self-energized’ (the word ‘instressed’ is Hopkins’ invention), but knowing that makes little difference. Attempts to precisely define the meaning of poetry in any case often undermine its beauty, and risk losing sight of meaning altogether. (This makes sense when you consider that meaning is perceived by the intuitive right side of the brain rather than the more analytical left brain, as psychiatrist and neuroscience researcher Iain McGilchrist has pointed out.)

As with poetry, so with music. Although I wrote this music myself, I cannot tell you exactly what it means; I can only say that those key words – ‘heart’, ‘falls’ and ‘light’ – all have multiple associations in my mind (as they surely do in everybody’s), that when the words are combined the way Hopkins has, they bring up even more associations, suggestions and implications, and that this music resonates (at least in my mind) with those associations.

(More about The Heart Falls as Light and Hopkins in the blog, ‘Hopkins, The Heart Falls as Light, and Immortal Diamond’.)

The Lay of the Last Survivor

(performed by Janneke Ferwerda, soprano, and Tijana Kozarčić, harp)

The Lay of the Last Survivor is a passage from the Old English epic poem Beowulf, the song of the last remaining member of a society whose heroes valued fame, wealth and fighting above all. The ultimate futility of those values is movingly conveyed in this reflection on the beauty, joy and vividness of life lived in the intensity of the moment – ‘the joy of the hall’ and harp, ‘the swift steed’ trampling the courtyard – before death took all. 13 centuries later, Beowulf remains strikingly relevant.

I wrote this setting of The Lay of the Last Survivor at a time of loss in my own life and, with my other music for Beowulf in the back of my mind (Fame, Gold & Shadow – see Chamber Music), it just seemed to flow forth naturally.

The Lay of the Last Survivor

Hold now, earth, now heroes may not,
the possessions of men! Truly, from you formerly
the valiant obtained it. Death in battle has taken off,
savage deadly evil, every man
of my people, of those who gave up this life,
saw the joy of the hall;

I have no one who bears a sword
or polishes the plated vessel,
precious drinking-cup; the nobility has gone elsewhere.
The hard helmet adorned with gold must be
bereft of its plates; the polishers sleep
who should burnish the battle-mask;
and likewise the coat of mail, which in battle survived
the bite of iron weapons over the shattering of shields,
crumbles with the man.

There is no joy of the harp at all,
mirth of the glee-wood, nor does a good hawk
swoop through the hall, nor the swift steed
trample the courtyard. Evil death,
death has despatched
many of the race of men!

– anon. ?8^th century Anglo-Saxon, translated by David R. Evans, from his unpublished book Fame, Gold & Shadow (you can view the original Old English lyrics with parallel translation, all in David’s superb calligraphy, here).

Siciliano for harp

(performed by Tijana Kozarčić)

The siciliano is a musical style or genre said to have originated as a folk dance in Sicily, but is best known from examples by Bach, Mozart, Fauré and others. My Siciliano is in a style slightly closer to its folk origins.

You can watch two videos of different performances of Siciliano by Tijana in the blog, ‘New release: Siciliano for harp’.

(There are also versions of Siciliano for two melody instruments – recorder, flute, oboe, cor anglais, clarinet, violin, cello, viola da gamba, in various combinations – and for solo guitar: see Chamber Music and Solo Instrumental Music for more information.)

Kin

Kin, the final composition on this album, is a musical reflection on relationships within and around the family (including honorary family members). More technically, it’s also a duo concerto for cor anglais and bassoon, two instruments that have a strong kinship despite originating in different families. There are four parts or movements:

Kin I: from the heart (comes courage)

Kin II: times of peace

Kin III: conflict resolution

Kin IV: celebrations and other events

As a representation of family life and relationships, the titles of the movements speak for themselves, but a word about ‘courage’ in the title of Kin I may not be out of place. The word ‘courage’ comes from the Old French corage, ‘heart, innermost feelings; temper’ and ultimately from the Latin cor, ‘heart’. Like love and compassion, courage comes from the heart, and the qualities of the heart are the ones most needed in kin relationships: relationships that last for much or all of one’s life.

The title of Kin II: times of peace speaks for itself.

Kin III: conflict resolution is a dialogue between the two solo instruments accompanied by a harp, which also joins in the conversation. There is a miniature psychological drama in the central section where the bassoon and cor anglais argue, the bassoon loses heart, the cor anglais encourages, and the bassoon gradually, falteringly regains its confidence … the movement then ending with all three instruments in complete and happy agreement.

Kin IV: celebrations and other events is a vigorous, at times exuberant piece in 7/8 time. This movement also has an episode of chaos or confusion in the middle where ‘things fall apart’ before relationships are recovered and rebuilt, the music becoming more harmonious and celebratory again.

Apart from these reflections on relationships, I’ve also called this work Kin because of the kinship between the two solo instruments, cor anglais and bassoon: both woodwinds played with a double reed, both occupying the mid-to-lower part of the full orchestral range, and, especially in the two octaves where their ranges overlap, both having somewhat similar although distinctive timbres. Despite this kinship, however, the cor anglais and bassoon have different family histories, the cor anglais having developed historically from the oboe, the bassoon from earlier bass double-reed instruments such as the dulcian. Kinship here, as in anthropology, is thus as much about social connections as genealogy.

And just as even the closest of kin can have very different characters, the kinship of cor anglais and bassoon does not mean they have the same musical personalities. In this concerto I’ve given both instruments ample opportunity to express their unique characters and capabilities and explore the parts of their ranges that don’t overlap, while on the other hand emphasising their kinship and similarities in conversational passages where they engage in dialogue and imitation. Interestingly, however, it’s in passages like these, where they play in the same range and repeat similar musical ideas, that their different characters sometimes emerge even more clearly.

This video introduces the album, with excerpts from each track:

Neil Buckland

(The music on this album – with the exception of The Lay of the Last Survivor and Siciliano – has been carefully crafted using sampled and synthesized sounds to be as realistic as possible, and while the result is a convincing imitation, synthesized music is never as good as the real thing. If you are or know of a musician or musicians who might be interested in being the first real performers of any of this music, please contact me.)