he wrote I had the feeling he couldn’t.)
Whenever I contacted Denn Mytrie, I felt I was groping across unknown seas, to an island I could not imagine, through delays and wasted time.
8
I made several more trips to Glaund City, partly to promote my music to the record managers, but also because I was sometimes offered session work in the studios. The money was helpful. Two more contracts were eventually signed and for one of the recordings I was allowed to rehearse the musicians and manage the actual performance. My reputation was slowly growing, and so too was my confidence. Alynna sometimes worked with me – these were occasions that were especially enjoyable for us.
The music I produced that I was most proud of at this time was my
Seasonal Gods
oratorio. I had loved writing
Dianme
and I treasured the recording that had been made, but I knew that my lack of confidence at the time had prevented me from developing the work as much as I should. Working on
Seasonal Gods
encouraged me to try.
It was a commissioned work: the Metropolitan of the See of Glaund City had heard
Tidal Symbols
, and through an intermediary enquired if I would consider a liturgical piece for his church. I am not religious, but the money was good and the brief was in musical terms open. I used as my text five of the psalms suggested to me by the Metropolitan’s staff. The format was complex, involving soloists and a choir, an organ part, and a small orchestra. I structured the music around the five psalms, which were followed by sung recitative and responsorial gradual. Passage of time was depicted by the antiphonal gradual.
Seasonal Gods
occupied me for the best part of a year. When it was complete, and the first performance had been achieved, I was free of financial worries for a while and felt inspired to return to
Dianme
and make it part of a larger work.
It was a natural progression to conceive of making a trio of pieces, based on the three islands I thought of as my own: Dianme, Chlam and Herrin. The title of the overall work was suggested by the myths that were associated with each of the islands:
Detriment in Calm Seas
. With the thought came the imagining and the conception, and I was soon concentrating hard on the final two pieces of the suite.
Chlam
was disruptive, singular music. I wrote for instruments I had barely used before: a silver trombone, snare drums and two electrically amplified string instruments. I had learned that Chlam, the mythological being, had brought ruin to the island by making a pact with a diabolical creature.
My piece called
Herrin
was different again. The myth on this island was one of calculated deception. Herrin had seemed to bring peace and wealth to the island, making the inhabitants trust him, but there was a price to pay. Time hung heavy. I orchestrated long romantic passages for the chamber orchestra, but these themes were gradually undermined by a creeping disharmony, until in the climax of both the piece and the suite every instrument was scored against every other in a cacophony of clashing notes.
My career progressed. As well as my recordings I was honoured by two live performances of my music in Glaund City. I went to an inland town, high in the mountains, where I gave a performance on piano of my
Travelling Circus
suite – this was later chosen as the opening work of a concert by the eight-strong Academy Players at the Trade Hall in the industrial city of Leeth. I began writing a column of personal observations of the musical scene for one of the monthly magazines aimed at the serious listener. I reviewed records by other artists. I gave lectures and talks to students, and for one three-week period I was running a composition workshop for the best students in the conservatoire.
Gradually, things were improving for me. The liveable income I was making from my music started to seem steady, reliable.
Then, things started to go wrong.
9
The letter that arrived seemed innocuous at first. It was