Matthew Bourne

When Leeds Conservatoire gave Bourne three defunct harpsichords, it was on the understanding that he used these to make music. The album title has the word ‘harpsichords’ crossed out to leave ARIORS (possibly to hint at arias, possibly to denote the broken-down nature of the instruments with various parts removed). The music is unlike much you will have heard previously. In some pieces, the harpsichords are strummed and plucked with plectrums by Bourne, Leach and Ticciati. On others, like ‘Quincy’, track CDA 2, the keyboards are used to stir a hornet’s nest of sounds out the instruments (the hornet’s, released, transform into a careering train that rattles towards you with whistles and bleeps, dragging behind a carriage of disorganised music-boxes). Across the rest of these pieces, the music veers from the bell-like chords and juddering arpeggios to clacks, smacks, knocks, ticks and tocks. The delight in the sounds that the be collectively wrung from these instruments forms the basis of the first CD and was recorded in a single afternoon. The second CD has each harpsichord played separately. This set opens with ‘Burn all three’, in which a more recognisably baroque approach to layering of sounds from the keyboard. Given the damage suffered by the instrument, the music drifts in and out of tune and Bourne gives the appearance of a sailor single-handedly navigating high seas and strong winds. The following piece, ‘John’, is built from a drum pattern hammered on the casing and strummed chords. The set began as an improvised suite performed by Bourne and Slater. In these pieces the music echoes and reverberates with the processing of Slater, often compelling the sounds towards an ethereal choir. This recording was then deconstructed and rebuilt in the studio with additional layers of electronics and editing. Across both CDs, this is a record of an experiment in making music that demonstrates the adventurousness of the players and their ability to wring all manner of sounds from derelict instruments. More than that, though, is the celebration of human ingenuity in both its ability to make instruments that can, even on their last legs, function to some extent, and it ability to make music from anything. – Chris Baber, JAZZ VIEWS https://jazzviews.net/matthew-bourne-harpsichords/

A proper musical achievement – Chris Cutler, ReR

British keyboardist Matthew Bourne built his reputation through an often unconventional approach and performance. When he received the offer to “do something” with three harpsichords that were in various states of disrepair, this was of course “gefundenes Fressen” for him. For a first “stylistic exercise” (CD A, ‘All Three, At Once’) he invited Glen Leach and Nika Ticciati. The three improvised together and came up with titles such as ‘Handkerchief’, ‘The Helmet Of Disaster’ and ‘We Love Having You Around’. As far as the latter is concerned, it is somewhat doubtful whether they will attract full houses with their anarchic form of artisanal bruitages. For CD B (‘Each One, Separately’) he chose Mark Slater (Nightports) as his sparring partner. This is a suite of improvisations with Bourne playing the harpsichords and Slater working simultaneously with electronics. Afterwards, Adam Martin (the other half of the duo Nightports) helped with the equally radical editing. Just a little more accessible, but this double CD remains a curiosity all along the line. – Georges Tonla Briquet, JAZZ HALO https://www.jazzhalo.be/reviews/cdlpk7-reviews/various/discus-special/

Many already know the pianist and composer Matthew Bourne for his works in the fields of cinema, visual arts, electronics and solo piano performances – having also appreciated his talent on various occasions live alongside Keith Tippett and Mike Westbrook – and are also aware of his singular approach to the world of disused and rare instruments, ruined or malfunctioning. Some further wonder is reserved by listening to the new album for Discus Music, Harpsichords, where Bourne engages in the assault (also physical, and definitive) on three decrepit harpsichords of the Leeds conservatory together with Glen Leach and Nike Ticciati, with subsequent technological transposition in dialogue with the two Nightporters, Mark Slater and Adam Martin. – Sergio Amadori, HIBOU, ANEMONE & BEAR https://hibou-anemone-bear.blogspot.com/2024/06/molti-gia-conoscono-il-pianista-e.html

As soon as I started listening to Matthew Bourne’s Harpsichords I found myself taken back to 9pm on Sunday 13th August, 1972. That evening saw the first UK performance of John Cage and Lejaren Hiller’s piece, HPSCHD, at the Roundhouse, broadcast on BBC Radio 3.

The compromises parents make with children. 9pm was past my bedtime back then, but I was told I could listen to it on my transistor radio, so long as I was in bed. I can still hear it in my head. A swirl of harpsichord sound, electronica, the mutterings, comings and goings of the audience. Cage and Hiller described HPSCHD in their programme note for its first performance (in 1969) as follows:

Twenty-minute solos for one to seven amplified harpsichords and tapes for one to fifty-two amplified monaural machines to be used in whole or in part in any combination with or without interruptions, etc., to make an indeterminate concert of any agreed-upon length having two to fifty-nine channels with loud-speakers around the audience.

Digital sound recording and processing was still the stuff of science fiction back then, but it’s hard to imagine any modern digital system having the aura of Cage’s ‘one to fifty-two amplified monaural machines’. The harpsichord solos consisted of classical harpsichord pieces processed by a computer programme that mimicked procedures taken from the I Ching. It might seem quaint these days, but the name, HPSCHD, came about as a result of the need to create a six-character file name. The first performance had taken place the same year as the first moon landing and even the Apollo Guidance Computer had only just over 30 kilobytes of RAM.

HPSCHD was a happening. As John Cage said of the happenings he created, ‘I don’t think we’re really interested in the validity of compositions any more. We’re interested in the experiences of things.’ In addition to the harpsichords and tape machines, an array of projectors displayed slides and movies on overhead screens. For the UK performance, the seating was removed from the Roundhouse so that audience-members could wander in, out and around as they pleased. The first performance had lasted five hours. I’m not sure how long the Roundhouse performance went on for: it going on well after my bedtime, I think I fell asleep before the end. It’s one reason, I think, why my memories of that night were so magical: I was listening to John Cage in the dark, surfing along the edge of sleep.

Unlike Matthew Bourne, Cage was not keen on improvisation as a way of making music – he considered it to be too bound up with the performer’s emotions and tastes. Nevertheless, Harpsichords has definite echoes of Cage and is a good example of how that composer’s influence persists. (The same could be said of Bourne’s 2022 album, Irrealis, a collection improvised prepared piano tracks). One of Cage’s lasting legacies has been the idea of music as process. Bourne has often pointed out that he’s ‘possessed of a burning desire to make music on anything old, broken or infirm’ and this album came about when he acquired three harpsichords in various states of disrepair. In a way, one could think of them as randomly ‘prepared’. In the case of HPSCHD, the music is processed by computer before it’s played. In the case of Harpsichords, it’s processed by the idiosyncrasies of the wrecked, neglected instruments.

On the sleeve, six letters of the title, Harpsichords, have been struck through, leaving one wondering if this is a nod towards the Cage-Hiller happening. The first CD consists entirely of tracks created by all three harpsichords together. Harpsichords in good nick are wonderfully noisy at the best of times: in the hands of Bourne, Leach and Ticciati, these three instruments are even more so. There’s a real energy to the music: microtonal patterns build into exhilarating cacophonies, rhythmic clatterings and relentless, dense crowds of notes receding into an indistinct background. In the album notes, Bourne says they ‘felt as if [they] had only scratched at the surface (sometimes literally)’ of the sound-worlds they could create. The literal scratching probably refers to Track 4 (‘The Helmet of Disaster’), much of which is made from noise rather than pitched sounds.

On the second CD, the harpsichords are played separately. These improvisations are all by Bourne, Mark Slater (one half of the duo, Nightports) adding electronic processing. Adam Martin (the other half) added more processing and effects at the editing stage. It’s not Bourne’s first collaboration with Nightports: they issued their first joint album back in 2018 (see links, below). On that occasion, Bourne was playing not harpsichords but ‘decrepit dusty’ upright pianos. In the notes to the harpsichord album, he says how ‘recordings were later subjected to brutal cuts and edits made with the same attitude of spontaneous playfulness as the performances.’ Listening to them, I got the feeling that although Bourne was frequently referencing other pieces and styles (it’s hard to be specific) the end result has a refreshing originality about it. The first track (‘Burn All Three’) references a remark Bourne makes in the album notes to setting the harpsichords alight ‘in some sort of sacrificial bonfire after their usefulness had expired’. If he did, I hope he recorded it. I’d love to hear it. – Dominic Rivron, INTERNATIONAL TIMES https://internationaltimes.it/harpsichords-old-and-new/

Harpsichords (DISCUS 175, 2xCD), das führt von Sheffield nordwärts, nach Airedale nahe Leeds, wo der abenteuerlustige Keyboarder MATTHEW BOURNE drei Cembalos auftrieb. Was ihn bisher schon für BA attraktiv gemacht hat, war sein Spiel mit Franck Vigroux, als Gast bei Mzylkypop, mit Keith Tippett und Shiver auf Discus. ‘All three, at once’ als extra­ordinäres Cembalotrio mit Glen Leach und Nika Ticciati (Catalysm Ensemble) ist eine wilde Konsequenz aus der Liveversion von „Nightports w/ Matthew Bourne“ mit 3 Pianos in Hull und von „Dulcitone 1804“, seinem Spiel auf einem antiken Exemplar des schottischen Tasteninstruments. Dass die drei Cembali auf ihre alten Tage, in freispielerisch ausgetob­tem Maximalismus traktiert, ja malträtiert, nochmal und erstmals so phantastisch auf­trumpfen können, beschert ein spektakuläres Hörerlebnis. Wie Nancarrow auf schräg. Wie Keith Emerson, back from Hell mit gehämmertem, gesicheltem, gequirltem Heavy Metal. Was die Musik von der Renaissance bis zum Rokoko verschwiegen und überklim­pert hat, Disaster und Wunden, wird ihr hier entrissen, kann sie hier auskotzen. Schwer zu glauben, dass die Instrumente danach noch alle Knochen, Drähte, Zähne beieinander hatten. Aber sie geben ihr Letztes und Bestes für diesen irrwitzigen Tastenoverkill. Bei ‘Each one, seperately’ schwelgt Bourne allein in den cembalistischen und uncembalisti­schen Registern, zu simultanem Processing von Mark Slater, der einen Hälfte von Night­ports. Das Resultat wurde danach im Studio aufgemischt und editiert, angereichert mit zusätzlichen Effekten von Adam Martin, Slaters Partner. Als nun transparenteres, aber raffinessenreich rauschendes, klimperndes, flimmerndes, pochendes Faszinosum, weil Bourne neben den Tasten auch die Saiten und den Holzkorpus bespielt. Bis zu einem 10-fingrigen BOING BOING BOING als Schlussakkord. – Rigobert Dittmann, BAD ALCHEMY

If you like unusual combinations of instruments you’ll love this: three harpsichords meld with live processing and electronics. It sounds like nothing else you’ve heard – in the best possible way of course. – Kevin Whitlock, JAZZWISE

At some point, not so long ago, Matthew Bourne, whom avid BBS readers already know from World Sanguine Report and the Shiver albums I reviewed (see “Meets Matthew Bourne Volume 1” and “Meets Matthew Bourne Volume 2”), was given three half-broken (‘in various states of disrepair’) harpsichords by the Leeds Conservatory. They were modern replicas of various manufacturers from the middle of the last century, as they are used in music academies for teaching and teaching. The agreement was that Bourne would use the three instruments in some form to make music. No sooner said than done. Released in July 2024 by Discus Music, “Harpsichords” contains the result of the efforts. CD1 (‘All three, at once’) features various improvisations that Bourne recorded as a trio with Glen Leach and Nika Ticciati, each on one of the harpsichords. On CD2 (‘Each one, seperately’), Bourne plays one of the three instruments, but their sound products were electronically supplemented or alienated by the duo Nightports (Adam Martin & Mark Slater) at the same time or later during mixing. The result is an angular harpsichord, sometimes acoustically voluminous (CD1), sometimes electronically sonorous (CD2).
A harpsichord has a very metallic and hard sound, mechanical, almost electronic, which gives the solo music created with such a sound a certain sonic proximity to electronic music, especially when improvising freely. At least everyone who appreciates edgier electronic sound should also be able to appreciate these harpsichord excursions, especially the ones on the second disc. Bourne and his comrades-in-arms create all kinds of hectically tackling sound meshes, reminiscent of modern solo works for the instrument (e.g. by Iannis Xenakis or György Ligeti), variously improvised, angular reverberation, hypnotically shimmering, excessively strumming and (on CD2) echo-like alienation, cosmically undulating or resonating for a long time. “Harpsichords” is a rather fascinating affair for sound adventurers, especially those who appreciate electronic alienation of acoustic keyboard instruments (see e.g. “Klavikon” by Klavikon or “The Steam Age” by Sølyst). Iconic! – Achim Breiling. BABYBLAUE SEITEN https://www.babyblaue-seiten.de/album_21757.html#oben

The story of Harpsichords begins with three damaged harpsichords in various states of disrepair that were offered to Matthew Bourne by Leeds Conservatoire, on the condition that he would make some music using them. Bourne is known for his willingness and ability to make music out of broken and otherwise useless musical instruments, so it was game on. We have encountered Bourne previously in his collaboration with British jazz trio Shiver on their two volumes of Shiver Meets Matthew Bourne, but this is very different, more in his own element, defying any convenient genre categorizations, and certainly not jazz or anything even close. The first disc of this two-CD set is subtitled All Three, At Once, and features three players, each on one damaged harpsichord; Bourne, Glen Leach, and Nika Ticciati improvise on the eight pieces, and right out of the gate things get pretty crazy and chaotic, at first sounding nothing like one would expect a harpsichord to sound, like little gremlins running around inside them, and while the players continue without any real cadence, it’s not like they aren’t hearing one another — in fact they are very attuned to each other’s playing, and the result is truly fascinating. By the end of the first track it seems we are up against a wall of pure cacophony, but somehow its derangement is quite beautiful. It doesn’t stop there; seven more tracks are equally insane and chaotic, but each piece starts differently and gets to its conclusion in a different way, on its own terms. Some listeners might be horrified by it, sending them running for a bottle of headache medicine, though for myself, I find it all very intriguing, and it makes me want to continue listening. By contrast, the second disc, subtitled Each One, Separately seems a lot more tame, and in fact was created using an entirely different process: Bourne plays an improvisation on one of the harpsichords, while Mark Slater (one half of the Nightports duo), would do live electronic processing in real time. The recordings made by the duo were later subjected to cuts and edits by Adam Martin, the other half of Nightports, who also adds additional electronics and processing. In general, the result is far more gentle on the ears and listenable, though perhaps more interesting and curious as well. It’s amazing what can be done with a broken musical instrument or three! – Peter Thelen, EXPOSÉ http://expose.org/index.php/articles/display/matthew-bourne-harpsichords-3.html

British keyboardist Matthew Bourne built his reputation through an often unconventional approach and performance. When he received the offer to “do something” with three harpsichords that were in various states of disrepair, this was of course “gefundenes Fressen” for him.
For a first “stylistic exercise” (CD A, ‘All Three, At Once’) he invited Glen Leach and Nika Ticciati. The three improvised together and came up with titles such as ‘Handkerchief’, ‘The Helmet Of Disaster’ and ‘We Love Having You Around’. As far as the latter is concerned, it is somewhat doubtful whether they will attract full houses with their anarchic form of artisanal bruitages. For CD B (‘Each One, Separately’) he chose Mark Slater (Nightports) as his sparring partner. This is a suite of improvisations with Bourne playing the harpsichords and Slater working simultaneously with electronics. Afterwards, Adam Martin (the other half of the duo Nightports) helped with the equally radical editing. Just a little more accessible, but this double CD remains a curiosity all along the line. – Georges Tonla Briquet, JAZZ HALO https://www.jazzhalo.be/reviews/cdlpk7-reviews/various/discus-special/

The Discus release Harpsichords is a very different matter. Having been offered three dilapidated harpsichords by Leeds Conservatoire, he and fellow enthusiasts Glen Leach and Nika Ticciati chose to attempt a set of improvisational trio pieces with the instruments exactly as they were delivered; untuned, keys missing, bodies rattling and see what arose. You kind of have to set aside expectation as a whole new world opens up. The three instruments are struck, hammered and stroked as they go off like an explosion in a clock factory. Immediately, the very different tones of each instrument mean you can start to differentiate between them. Some sounds are so unlikely; what sounds like a floor being scraped comes from one harpsichord, while a blunt thud possibly denotes a missing string on another. The three players also have very different approaches, with some gently exploring, while another may leap straight in, elbows out, startling the instrument into eruption. On first listen, the disc is almost unlistenable; but as you persevere, so you start to look for particular motifs, the unique nature of some of the notes and then an appreciation of the sheer physicality starts to blossom. You also have the feeling that because the instruments are nearing the end of their useful lives, there is a sense of abandon in the hearts of the players. There is a feeling of anarchy and some of the singular sounds are ridiculous like cartoon springs or incomprehensible like the squeal and screech of an underground train; but when the three follow a particular lead, so an unexpected vista opens up and you forget somehow what is producing these sounds. However, the overall effect is all enveloping like you are stuck in a strange factory with drunken clockwork robots. You also gain a greater sense of the semi-abstract percussive nature of the instruments with the scrabbling of keys, the missing notes and the dull thuds of the bodies merging. Just to add further texture, Matthew invited one half of Nightports to add electronic elements in real time and then gave the finished tapes to the other half who manipulated and edited them after the event. This whole process has generated something genuinely unique and affecting, but to put a perspective on it, a second disc Each One, Separately is included where a single instrument is played and Matthew interacts with Nightports as if it were a duo. Heard on their own, the harpsichords are clearer; although through the ancient chime and playful dance, you can still sense the guts and body of the machine, the duff, flat notes giving unexpected connections and the sense of its part in history removed to some alternate realm. It sounds like a battered guitar in parts and in some respects, there is even more experimentation as broken sofa springs and baseline electronics back the limping Steve Reichian repetition. Nightports attacks the tarantella-like run of “Ticknall” with pruning shears, rendering it dislocated, while in “Red Brick” it sounds as though a pick-axe is involved as something heavy and threatening mounts the stairs. There is a judicious use of electronics to support the general, free-flowing breakdown; but there is also some tiptoeing sweetness as new chord clusters attempt these conversations, a new and unexpected language bursting forth. It takes a few listens for the ears to become attuned; but when they do, delicate little details and repetitive motifs join with some thoughtful progressions and deep, foreboding electronics to push us further into this new universe. – Mr Olivetti, FREQ https://freq.org.uk/reviews/matthew-bourne-this-is-not-for-you-harpsichords/

In spite of these modern advances another method to create an unique keyboard program is to go back to the future. That’s exactly what UK musician Matthew Bourne has done on Harpsichords (DISCUS 175 CD). Given three harpsichords in serious disrepair by the Leeds Conservatory he used the disintegrating facilities of this piano ancestor to generate idiosyncratic improvisions. On one disc of this two-CD set he, Glen Leach and Nika Ticciati form a sonic group grope playing simultaneously on all three decaying harpsichord. Bourne he improvises alone on a single harpsichord. Adding the future to the past his creative keyboard excursions are matched with live electronic and processing from Matthew Slater and Adam Martin. The fascination of the first disc is hearing how these experienced keyboardist push their disintegrating instruments away from overriding cacophony to reveal melodic interludes at high and low pitches. Making the best use of the decaying mechanism echoing, percussion-like crashes and string glissandi are highlights. On his own Bourne deals with variations of this concept, but takes advantage of live processing to extend his initial timbres further in tempo and pitch and also provide an oscillating landscape of distended and fragmented tones. Capable of producing a pitch-perfect so-called classical harpsichord sequence as he demonstrates a couple of times, Bourne uses the instrument’s corrosion to spawn jangling patterns and pitches, then on tracks such as “John” and “Brown Bins” triggers the plectrum on the strings to nearly replicate what would be expected from a 12-string guitar. With forearm smashes and keyboard rebounds on “Red Brick” he evokes door-stopper like strums as well. However the electronics additions mean that on tracks like that one and others processing projects a secondary keyboard sound in tandem with his live playing, Establishing the versatility of even a crumbling instrument like this one, Bourne confirms the keyboard’s traditional sound as well as its potential for distinct experimentation.
In the right hands – or is it fingers? – keyboard solos can follow all sorts of unexpected avenues – Ken Waxman JAZZWORD https://www.jazzword.com/reviews/matthew-bourne/