CONCERT REVIEW: CANDYFOLK SPACE-DRUM

REVIEWCandyfolk Space-Drum BY ALASTAIR WARREN The creative outpouring from composer and improvising trombonist Alex Paxton’s fertile mind shows no sign of slowing. Since he was interviewed for The Trombonist in Spring 2021 he has had his music performed by major ensembles around the world: a recording of Ilolli-Pop for solo trombone improviser and ensemble will be released later this year, and Happy Music for Orchestra will be released in 2023. Paxton received three nominations in the 2021 Ivors Composer Awards, winning the Small Chamber Composition category with Sometimes Voices and has been nominated for the Gaudeamus Award 2022. Last year he was chosen to contribute to Arcana X: Musicians on Music, the tenth and final instalment of John Zorn's acclaimed Arcana series of books on new music theory. 31 March 2022 saw the world premières of two new works by major orchestras: in the morning Love Yous Bus-Eyed by the London Symphony Orchestra at LSO St. Lukes, and in the evening Candyfolk Space-Drum by the London Sinfonietta, at the Queen Elizabeth Hall. I was lucky enough to be invited to the latter as a guest of the London Sinfonietta Candyfolk Space-Drum is scored for a small ensemble of violin, flute, bass clarinet, trumpet and two keyboards, jazz drummer, improvising solo trombonist and children’s choir. In his programme note Paxton says, ‘This is a piece of music I have written so that it can be played to an audience by notation-reader-like-musician-soloists who like it, improvising musicians who like it, a drummer who likes it, electricitysounds and some children who like it also. These are the best sounds I can image these people making, I think it will also be fun to watch’. In response here is a review I have written. Given as part of a concert entitled ‘Tapestries’, Candyfolk Space-Drum was indeed a tapestry, weaving together blues, soul, a hint of Riverdance, with passages of almost hyper-real video game music

complexity, expertly blurring the boundaries between acoustic and electronic instruments.

Although Paxton’s compositional voice is unique, I had fun spotting influences as they flitted past; echoes of Ray Anderson, the anarchic spirit of Django Bates, of Loose Tubes or the George Gruntz Concert Jazz Band, moments of Pat Metheny/Brad Mehldau, the intellectual rigour of George Lewis (with whom Paxton shared the programme), and a Gil Evans-like ear for orchestration.

That acute ear extended to Paxton’s role as a performer. Standing to one side, both physically and conceptually, his improvisation seemed to act as both commentary and encouragement to the main action. Searching for his best sounds, Paxton employed an extensive range of mutes: pixie, trixie, harmon with clothes pegs attached, practice mute and even a French horn stopping mute. Additionally, he swapped between his regular instrument and a ‘peashooter’ trombone, the maker of which could never have conceived the use to which it is now being put.

However, what impressed me most about Candyfolk Space-Drum was Paxton’s treatment of the children’s choir. Rather like Roald Dahl, Paxton has the knack of being childlike without being childish, of not being condescending, of treating his young performers as equals. The response from them was electric: I can’t think of a better example of the power of music to enthuse, excite and give confidence to young people, if given the chance to experience it in this way. And perhaps that was the fundamental point of the piece, a timely reminder to all of us of the sheer joy music can bring if we let it.

Months after spending 30 minutes immersed in Paxton’s mind the memory of his music is still firmly lodged in mine. I like it.

Alex Paxton teams up with the London Sinfonietta again on 18 November for the EFG London Jazz Festival. ◆

CONCERT REVIEW PHOTO CREDIT: ORLANDO GILI.