‘...Falling Angel by Tansy Davies is scored for only 17 players, but the impact of its sound-palette makes them seem at least double that number. There is so much colourful activity within this 21-minute piece, varying combinations of instruments creating tensions and resolutions, that resources seem infinite. The inspiration comes from the painting Falling Angel by German artist Anselm Kiefer, and the Falling Angel in this score seems to be an electronic keyboard set to alleged harpsichord registration, puny and vulnerable amid Davies’ wonderful welter of orchestral writing.
Timbres are rewardingly explored: brass in jagged annunciatory fanfares, extremes of woodwind registers opening up chording of vast inference, serene punctuations dividing paragraphs of hectic activity and a big trumpet summons dissolving into a heroic flute skirmish. A string-led chorale under incessant attack leads to a spiky extended conclusion almost Rite of Spring-like in its raw heavings.’
Birmingham Post (Christopher Morley) 5 February 2007
Timbres are rewardingly explored: brass in jagged annunciatory fanfares, extremes of woodwind registers opening up chording of vast inference, serene punctuations dividing paragraphs of hectic activity and a big trumpet summons dissolving into a heroic flute skirmish. A string-led chorale under incessant attack leads to a spiky extended conclusion almost Rite of Spring-like in its raw heavings.’
Birmingham Post (Christopher Morley) 5 February 2007
‘A la recherche d’une musique noire et brillante, la créatrice mêle ici nombre de sons disparates: raclement de cor, cordes grattées, rebonds d’archers, tapotage de steel-drum, tintements de xylophone, pépiement de clarinette ou de piccolo, notes crues de synthétiseur, etc. On reste assez perplexe, mais le résultat a de la consistance et ne manque pas de faire sourire.’
www.anaclase.com (Laurent Bergnach) February 2007
‘It’s high energy had a dark edge. Fanfares and marches fuelled dense, multi-layered textures. A folk-like melody introduced a rustic quality, but there was an ever-present sense of danger, of teetering on the brink–the phrase ‘dancing on a volcano’ came to mind.’
Tempo (Paul Conway), October 2007