At the end of an exceptionally eventful century, one glorious moment from its final year will forever stand out for those who experienced it. The solar eclipse on 11 August captured the imagination of many people, not least those who were present at Dartington College in Devon, England, where the International Summer School was in full swing. This was a location where the eclipse was total, and a large-scale musical project celebrating the event—
Music of the Spheres—was being led by composer David Bedford in the Dartington College Tiltyard. David and I had worked together as summer-school tutors for several years, and his endless imagination, enthusiasm, originality and musical skills (partly fuelled by his work with John Peel and Mike Oldfield) were for me the source of great inspiration. During that week, David offered to write a solo piece for me; I was of course delighted, and requested an unaccompanied work. I mentioned that I was preparing a concert programme inspired by hills and mountains, to which his response (after a short pause) was: ‘I have an idea—I’ll work on it.’ A few weeks later,
Dreams of Stac Pollaidh arrived in the post. I knew this would be special—he had an amazing gift for thinking outside the box, and
Dreams of Stac Pollaidh (pronounced ‘stack polly’) is no exception. The inspiration for this piece is twofold—first, Stac Pollaidh the beautiful mountain in northwest Scotland with views of Assynt and the Summer Isles from its summit, and second, the Scottish
pibroch, beloved of Highland bagpipers on special occasions. This latter link is a loose one—Bedford’s piece is a theme and variations, similar in some ways to a
pibroch, but he takes the idea and develops it into a piece that can be seen as a miniature tone poem for solo bassoon. Beginning gently with a very simple melody (perhaps at the foot of the mountain), each variation thereafter becomes more elaborate and animated (the ascent) until we reach the peak, which is clearly a very breezy place! Then it all begins to calm down again (the descent), ending with a gently ornamented repeat of the original melody.
from notes by Laurence Perkins © 2021