Uroboros Ensemble / Gagliano Trio / Ensemble Exposé - Michael Finnissy: Câtana, String Trio, Contretänze (1991)

Michael Finnissy first came to prominence in the mid-1970s with his orchestral works Offshore and Sea and Sky and his gargantuan piano piece English Country Tunes. Since then he has slowly been consolidating his position and has gathered a loyal band of devotees here and abroad. In fact, to a certain extent his music has probably found greater appreciation abroad than in this country—a syndrome that Finnissy's music shares in common with his fellow countryman Brian Ferneyhough. The BBC, however, have always been keen advocates of his music and it is to them, as much as the enterprise of Etcetera, that we owe the existence of this disc.
As the insert-notes point out, the complexities of Finnissy's music have inevitably led to his being co-opted (again, along with Ferneyhough) as one of the father-figures of the British New Complexity school. Finnissy himself finds this horrifying, and makes a strong intellectual case for this not being so, but it cannot be denied that works such as the String Trio or English Country Tunes are anything other than tough nuts to crack.
The String Trio dates from 1986 and was written specifically for the Gagliano Trio. Its construction is intriguing: cast in a single unbroken movement lasting 30 minutes or more, it is divided into 28 internal sections whose tempo markings are translations into Italian of the markings of Mahler's Ninth Symphony. Indeed, Mahler's symphony not only provides a skeletal tempo structure for the Trio, but also acts as a spring-board for all the melodic material (the first nine notes of the symphony forming a cantus firmus throughout the piece) as well as supplying the psychological core of the work. Finnissy's fascination with the symphony stems primarily from Mahler's use of melodic archetypes, i.e. small melodic units that embrace a wide range of emotional states—a device also prevalent in most of Finnissy's own music.
It is, I have said, a difficult work to penetrate, but one I think well worth persevering with as it yields more of its riches on repeated hearings; its emotional and expressive range is impressive, and the Gagliano Trio's account is most persuasive indeed.
The remaining items are less emotionally charged and, dare I say it, more immediately accesible (though I'm sure many will disagree), but together with the Trio they give a well-rounded and balanced representation of Finnissy's style and working techniques. Catana is an excellent example of his interest in polyrhythmic layering and folk-music; three mini-ensembles—a duo (flute and percussion), a trio (oboe, clarinet and piano) and a quartet (violin, viola, cello and harp)—interweave and explore the intervallic components (melodic archetypes again) of a Romanian folk-melody—Catana. Although the shadow of Xenakis hovers over much of this score there is also a nervous lyricism (albeit somewhat fragmented) that is pure Finnissy.
Contretanze, like the Trio, is a transformation piece. Here the source material, derived from Bach's C major Prelude from the Well-tempered Clavier, is combined with a kind of ''imaginary'' (the composer's word) Macedonian folk-music, resulting in a ''parody composition'' not unlike those of Maxwell Davies.
The recordings (licensed from the BBC) are exceptionally fine, and the performances (from some of Britain's finest contemporary ensembles) are also of the highest order. Worth investigating.'