Anthony - Saxophone Concerto

It’s not uncommon for lovers of classical music to enjoy jazz – or vice versa. It’s also not unheard of for composers to fuse these genres. When that fusion is as seamless as it is in Luke Anthony’s rewarding Saxophone Concerto, the results make you forget any division exists.

For soloist, Tony Woods, Anthony has penned nothing short of a contemporary classic; one which some might say bears a similarity to Michael Nyman’s saxophone concerto (in all but name), Where The Bee Dances. If you love that, you’ll thrill to what Woods and the excellent Sound Collective – under the baton of Tom Hammond - deliver in this superb recording.

One work, two worlds

The first thing we hear is a deep, extended double bass note, quickly supported by other low strings. Woods’ saxophone enters in, his instrument’s voice like the call of an exotic bird. This work doesn’t so much begin as dawn. The opening repeats, bringing in higher strings and woodwinds, as Woods elaborates on the bird call, then takes us on a mellow morning meander – until at last, we meet the main theme (T1-1:19).

At just pass the two-minute mark, smooth strings and long saxophone lines are replaced by a more tense episode, with Woods switching from the scored to the seemingly improvisatory (T1-2:30). High-lying notes get tossed off as though spilling from their staves, before this brief jazz interlude swings back to classical – setting the tone for a first movement which blurs the line between two musical worlds. One minute, it’s Jan Garbarek. The next, Dmitri Shostakovich.

Twilight tone

Strings breathe deeply, in and out. Lines of brass – and later, woodwinds – drift overhead, like thin wisps of purply-orange cloud high above an Arizona desert evening sky. Woods muses gently, beautifully, spontaneously on the saxophone. This tranquil, hypnotic second movement, with its shades of Copland’s Quiet City, could soothe the most troubled soul. And again, it’s hard to know (or care) what’s jazz and what’s classical. Especially when Anthony’s closing two minutes so brilliantly echo the tintinnabular style of one of his heroes – Estonian composer, Arvo Part – as Woods plays what borders on free jazz (T2-8:26).

Bourbon and vodka

A strong American influence gives the third movement a distinctive flavour. Imagine a well-blended cocktail of greats, ranging from (the already mentioned) Aaron Copland to Leonard Bernstein, Branford Marsalis and Michael Brecker. Anthony adds a dash of Russian spirit to the mix: Shostakovich again discernible, this time in the snare drums.

We open with a head-bobbing rhythm straight out of West Side Story. Woods shares the floor with various members of Sound Collective, then blends Anthony’s scripted lines into what are, perhaps, his own ideas? The pace picks up (T3-2:27) before the music suddenly gives way to something unexpected (T3-3:28) – a passage as short-lived as both the reprised opening rhythm that follows it, and this work’s chilled ending. Is it jazz? Is it classical? Does it matter?