A Symphony of Amaranths
I. Carillon 5:50
II. Nocturne 7:19
III. Entracte 6:06
IV. Impromptu 5:41
02. The Dong With A Luminous Nose 11:42
03. Three Poems (11:13)
I. After Long Silence 4:08
II. She Weeps Over Rahoon 3:21
III. Will You Walk A Little Faster? 3:44
This recording is made with the financial assistance from the Arts Council Of Great Britain.
"After long Silence" (The words of this poem are by W. B. Teats and are used by permission of the copyright owner M. B. Yeats).
"She Weeps Over Rahoon" (By courtesy of The Society Of Authors on behalf of the trustees of the James Joyce Estate).
Jon Hiseman and Dick Heckstall-Smith appear by courtesy of Bronze and Island Records.
Piano [Prepared Piano] – Neil Ardley
Bass – Chris Laurence
Bass – Jeff Clyne
Cello – Charles Tunnell
Cello – Francis Gabarro
Drums – Jon Hiseman
Electric Piano – Karl Jenkins
Engineer – John Mackswith
Glockenspiel – Dave Gelly
Harp – David Snell
Harp – Sidonie Goossens
Harpsichord – Alan Branscombe
Piano, Celesta [Celeste] – Stan Tracey
Soloist, Saxophone – Barbara Thompson (tracks: A1)
Soloist, Saxophone – Dave Gelly (tracks: B2)
Soloist, Saxophone – Dick Heckstall-Smith (tracks: A3, B4)
Soloist, Saxophone – Don Rendell (tracks: A3)
Soloist, Trombone – Derek Wadsworth (tracks: B4)
Soloist, Trumpet, Flugelhorn – Harry Beckett (tracks: A1)
Soloist, Trumpet, Flugelhorn – Henry Lowther (tracks: A2)
Soloist, Vibraphone – Frank Ricotti (tracks: B2)
Trombone – Derek Wadsworth, Ray Premru
Trumpet, Flugelhorn – Derek Watkins
Trumpet, Flugelhorn – Nigel Carter
Tuba – Dick Hart
Viola – Ken Essex
Violin – Erich Gruenberg
Violin – Jack Rothstein
Violin – Kelly Isaacs
Vocals – Norma Winstone (tracks: B2 to B4)
Woodwind, Bassoon – Bunny Gould
Woodwind, Oboe – John Clementson
Composer-pianist Neil Ardley (1937-2004) may not be one of the most well known in English vanguard circles, but hopefully that will soon change as more of his music resurfaces on disc. Influenced heavily by Miles Davis’ right-hand man Gil Evans, Ardley founded the New Jazz Orchestra in 1963, an ensemble that featured the cream of the British jazz crop and released two records in its lifetime — Dejeuner sur l’Herbe (Verve, 1965) and Western Reunion 1965 (Decca, 1965 — reissued on CD by Vocalion). An expanded NJO cut the shockingly beautiful A Symphony of Amaranths in 1971 under Ardley’s sole leadership, and while garnering Arts Council awards upon its release, it has remained one of the scarcer LPs in Ardley’s catalog. Released by Regal Zonophone (home to Tyrannosaurus Rex’s early LPs), the session features a who’s who of British jazz and rock — Jenkins, Hiseman and Heckstall-Smith appear, as do percussionist Frank Ricotti, trumpeters Derek Watkins, Harry Beckett and Henry Lowther, reed players Don Rendell and Barbara Thompson, pianist Stan Tracey, harpist David Snell, bassists Chris Laurence and Jeff Clyne, and vocalists Ivor Cutler and Norma Winstone. Now, vying for “reissue of the year,” A Symphony of Amaranths has been reissued on CD by Dusk Fire (and on LP via Wah Wah), cut from the original master tapes with an extra track from the same session — an amusingly syrupy tango “National Anthem” that recalls Carla Bley.
The title piece, dedicated to Evans and Duke Ellington, begins with lush and glassine interstices from glockenspiel, vibes, harp, and piano strings before horns and rhythm emerge in a stately, hard chug, bedded by a string ensemble carpet. Beckett and Thompson trade off flugelhorn and soprano saxophone skirls, popping out of a field of cracking traps and cascading detail. The second movement is appropriately titled “Nocturne” and couples taut gong and castanet accents with lilting, throaty strings and woodwinds, a light but cutting sway that supports Lowther’s incisive, romantic trumpet keen. “Entracte” begins with harp, piano, and glockenspiel in trio, reminiscent of Steve Reich at first blush, soon splaying out into crepuscular flourishes. Heckstall-Smith’s burred tenor is front and center on “Impromptu,” the orchestra in painterly washes against the rhythm section’s extraordinary clip. Heckstall-Smith is an interesting contrast against the more studied robustness of Don Rendell (a star of Ardley’s excellent Greek Variations LP from 1970, on Columbia), who follows suit — their trades against brash ensemble passages and pulsing minimalism keep the music from bogging in self-reflection in the final few minutes, encouraging a punchy close.
Surrealist poet and raconteur Ivor Cutler and jazz-rock vocalist Norma Winstone are the stars of “The Dong With A Luminous Nose” and “Three Poems,” which took up the original LP’s second side. Cutler’s dry, warbling delivery is weird enough on its own, but set against impulsive ensemble push and striking orchestral accent it’s part of an absolutely fascinating picture appropriate to Edward Lear’s poem. In fact, the affinity between Cutler and Lear is likely how this three-part collaboration came into being. Ardley wasn’t the first to employ modern poetry with improvised music — English pianist-composer Michael Garrick recorded a number of successful examples for the Argo label during the mid-Sixties as well, to say nothing of the extraordinary collaborations between 20th century “classical” composers and poets. As one might expect, Ardley has written and arranged the music for “The Dong With A Luminous Nose” to the extent that improvisation is less a focal point than inflection and support, which shapes music and word into a balanced whole. Winstone is a powerful singer quite different from Cutler, and soars in her breathy lyric presentations of brief poems by Yeats, Joyce, and Carroll. The music is more open here and recalls the reverberant intensity of Winstone’s own LP The Edge of Time (Argo, 1972, which Ardley participated in), creating a dreamlike but forceful sphere of activity.
A Symphony of Amaranths presents Ardley’s work in gorgeous, full, and detailed sound with copious liner notes and photographs, and is one of the (sadly) rare examples of a reissue done exactly right. Hopefully more of Ardley’s music will see reissue in the near future, but for now this cornerstone set will more than suffice, fleshing out sporadically available examples from his small but rewarding catalog. And while the cast of 29 British improvisers and classical performers really make this set sing, this reissue rightly sets into relief how extraordinary deep one man’s vision was.
A Symphony of Amaranths is composer/polymath Neil Ardley’s most ambitious work, recorded in 1971 by the New Jazz Orchestra with added woodwind, harp and strings, and here (as on the original record) supplemented by settings of Edward Lear’s ‘The Dong with the Luminous Nose’ plus three poems by Yeats, Joyce and Lewis Carroll.
The title composition is ranked by many alongside Ardley’s more famous extended work, Kaleidoscope of Rainbows (sleevenote writer/saxophonist – and glockenspiel player – Dave Gelly calls it a ‘masterpiece’; Duncan Heining, in his recent book-length study of 1960s/1970s British jazz, Trad Dads, Dirty Boppers and Free Fusioneers, describes it as ‘stunningly beautiful ... sensuous and delightful and bold in both conception and execution’), but there are dissenting voices, chief among them the late Richard Cook, who refers to Kaleidoscope as ‘a boring and ponderous record which might almost sum up why British jazz was losing so much of its audience at the time’.
At risk of fence-sitting, it’s easy to see the merits of both opinions, contrasting as they are. A Symphony of Amaranths is indeed grand in conception and adventurous in execution, and its chief merit is the ease and assurance with which it negotiates a path between power and grace, allowing a series of distinctive and skilful soloists (trumpeters Henry Lowther and Harry Beckett, saxophonists Barbara Thompson, Don Rendell and Dick Heckstall-Smith chief among them) to emerge convincingly from the intriguingly multi-textured ensemble sound while never allowing the piece’s momentum to flag for a moment.
The literary settings, however, are a mixed bag, the Lear and Carroll in particular encapsulating all the problems customarily associated with English whimsy of the period, though Norma Winstone sings impeccably and in the process makes Ivor Cutler’s eccentric Lear recital (which even the otherwise positive Heining considers ‘an acquired taste’) sound maddeningly arch. Overall, though, a fascinating snapshot of British jazz at a crucial period in its development.