The idea to write a symphonic work for multiple horns first came to mind in 2007 when walking up the mountain Cadair Idris in North Wales. I imagined various groups of horns on platforms positioned all around the amphitheatre-like face of the mountain, projecting inland over the expansive natural landscape. After making some preliminary (and very grandiose) sketches, the concept soon went on the backburner. It stayed with me however, and came back to mind here and there (often when surrounded by a dramatic natural landscape), and in 2016 I decided to finally write it.
The symphony is scored for 45 horns in F (comprising ten quartets and five soloists), 2 Tibetan horns and 4 percussionists, all spatially arranged in a symmetrical crescent/amphitheatre shape. It is cast in a traditional 4-movement scheme, and the whole work is based on a few simple thematic ideas - the most central of which is a 5-note, modal motif (A-C-D-E-B).
Beginning with a hushed awakening, the first movement introduces and develops most of the main thematic ideas that are used in the symphony, as well as exposing an expressive discourse of ‘discovery and obsession’ vs ‘struggle and crisis’, which characterises much of the work. The prevalent use of canon in this movement is also something that continues throughout the symphony - beginning with a canon which combines various melodic and rhythmic transformations of the main 5-note theme.
The scherzo is built largely from motor rhythms, and blurs a sense of play and struggle. The music often darts around capriciously, but also becomes manic in places - pushing the material towards various crises, and occasionally to breaking point. The Tibetan horns are used here for the first time as a throbbing and threatening presence, and the tenderness of the trio section looks forward to the third movement.
The third (slow) movement is scored for approximately half the ensemble, and is built on a motif taken and transformed from the previous two movements. This motif is repeated and shared out between the soloists (most notably in the central canon), and has a kind of questioning, mantra-like feeling to it. The shortest of the four, this movement was initially conceived as a lullaby, where a sense of repose is combined with a feeling of apathy or emotional disembodiment. The movement acts as a kind of tender low ebb expressively, as well as an important thematic link to the finale.
The whole ensemble then returns for the final movement, which again features a series of canons, as well as the ‘Bach chorale’ Werde munter, mein gemüte (Be glad, my soul). The chorale melody acts as a thematic continuation of the main theme of the third movement, as well as an expressive reversal of it – providing a pivotal sense of renewal. The form of this finale is also based somewhat on the last part of Bach’s The Art of Fugue (contrapunctus 18), in its sectional divisions, and in the gradual increase of momentum and contrapuntal complexity. The movement begins in confidence, before it starts to ‘rediscover itself’ in light of the rejuvenating chorale. Momentum is again established, eventually reaching a final crisis-point (represented by a kind of ‘heavy-metal march’), before the first canon from the first movement returns. This time the canon develops and grows further, drawing in and combining all of the other important themes of the symphony, before concluding the work with a sense of affirmation and renewal in a blazing, Lydian-tinged A major.
