Salford Choral Society premiere of The Gardener with conductor Tom Newall

Composer’s Note

I approached this text from the point of character, drama and storytelling. I tried to inhabit the characters in the piece and act/ tell their story through music. 

Because Rebecca’s text is so rich and multilayered with many possible meanings, I was able to think about which layers/ emotional narratives to bring out musically. Sometimes I bring out an emotional narrative simmering slightly below the surface of the text, and sometimes I paint something closer to the surface.

It was important to me that the piece celebrates the joy of singing, music and life in all its complexities. I’ve kept music fast moving and full of bold contrasts and cinematic changes of perspective, responding to the humour and wit in Rebecca’s text and also its depth.

Listening Guide

We awake with a jolt and we hear the choir boldly announce the beginning of the day with the “First Light” theme. We join the crow’s morning routine. She is precise and serious and as she's pecking for worms we hear a pecking motif in the strings and then in the brass. Mist lifts around her in the harp and tremolo strings. The music becomes jubilant as the crow finds and eats a worm. There is a sharp shift from joy to horror as she crunches the worm. Emerging from the still aftermath of the worm’s death, we meet the gardener, who pops out into the garden to drink her morning tea and watch the sunlight dispelling mist. We jolt back to the perspective of the crow who watches the gardener do some gardening. As she’s digging the compost heap, she finds a grass snake. The grass snake is characterised by some slippery, silvery music in piano, harp, flutes and cor anglais, which we hear slowly slinking into the distance. 

A raucous drinking song breaks out as the gunnerra (a giant rhubarb plant), and an unseasonal heatwave, drink the pond dry. We then hear a slightly manic show tune, with rising panic about where all the pond creatures have gone. This ramps up and up until it explodes into a scream of GET THE WATERING CAN! This dissipates into the lethargy of a hot day. The pressure of heat starts building and building until we have a brief, rageous storm from which a gentle, meditative rain shower emerges.

Pizzicato strings nod and bob welcoming us to the meadow. The meadow is a bright collage of quickly changing, energetic music, acting like a collage of different coloured flowers.  The meadow dances, starting first with a bright waltz, then a more driving, snapping groove for seeds scattering and popping. We hear a buzzing tangle of flowers, each flower having its own melody and rhythm. First you hear each flower on its own, and then they start interlocking and tangling together. This bursts into a more rowdy waltz, where pollinators dance nectar drunk. These different sections are juxtaposed kaleidoscopically, creating a joyous and merry celebration of life.

Dusk then begins to fall, the work of the day is done, the gardener is sitting on a bench, watching the night encroach. There is a feeling of grief and delicate sadness, but also beauty, dignity and power. As the piece comes to a close, the opening “First Light” theme resounds, in the horn then the flute. First light rears its head as the natural world’s inevitable cycle of time begins again.

The Gardener

The Whale's Cabaret for Horn and Piano

Commissioned by the Royal Philharmonic Society

Dedicated to Lucy Hale

The first performance was given by Lynn Henderson and Ben Smith at Wigmore Hall on 16th July 2022

The first two movements of this recording are of the premiere. The third movement is a Sibelius demo.

The Whale's Cabaret

I saw the phrase “Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing” in Leh, a town in the Indian Himalayas, where it was the name of a shop selling guided mountain treks. I set off on an adventurous trek but quickly developed altitude sickness and collapsed on a remote mountain path. Unfortunately, there was a long ascent up to 5000m before the next village. Things were not looking good until a pack of food carrying donkeys arrived and I was hoisted onto one of them. My donkey skilfully navigated the steep, rocky mountainside and we reached the top long before the rest of the group. I spent a few hours with the donkeys and the brilliant Himalayan view waiting for the two legged travellers. Each donkey had a bell and as they grazed, the bells gently tinkled creating a beautiful, calm sound to match the epic landscape. I start this piece with a gentle bell-like texture and the piece then sets off on a daring adventure.

Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing

Dynamic Corpse

For flute, bass clarinet, piano (with superball mallet), electric guitar, violin, viola and cello

Commissioned by the FontanaMIX Ensemble
Funded by the Ernst von Siemens Music Foundation

First performance: Teatro San Leonardo, Bologna on the 10th March 2022. This recording is of the second performance in Hannover on 11th March.

Conductor: Francesco La Licata
Flute: Lavinia Guillari
Clarinet: Marco Ignoti
Violin: Valentino Corvino
Viola: Corrado Carnevali
Cello: Sebastiano Severi
Piano: Franco Venturini
Electric Guitar: Walter Zanetti

Duration: c. 10 minutes

Dynamic Corpse

This is a live recording of the premiere of "The Alchemical Kitchen" by Lucy Armstrong and Rebecca Hurst.  The Cambridge Philharmonic and Chorus are conducted by Tom Primrose.

The first performance was given by Cambridge Philharmonic on 18th March 2023 at West Road Concert Hall, Cambridge and the piece was commissioned by Tim Redmond and The Cambridge Philharmonic and Chorus. 

Programme Note:

The Alchemical Kitchen is a poetic and musical reflection on the creative process, and the connection of that process — sometimes mystical, sometimes mundane — to the minutiae of everyday life. Drawn to the idea of ‘glimmers’ (‘small moments that spark joy or peace, which can help cue our nervous system to feel safe or calm’), Rebecca took as her creative spark for this new work the opening lines of a poem she wrote in 2015 called Cabbage. Based on the gesture that opens the poem, of chopping a red cabbage in half, and inspired by the glimmers shared by members of the Cambridge Philharmonic, Rebecca and Lucy had long conversations about these small, often domestic moments. They talked about the glimmers that enrich our lives, inform our creativity, and connect us to others, such as braising a cabbage, running a stick along iron railings, or cradling a grandchild. The final text that emerged from this process takes a personal gesture and experience that is probably familiar to most humans (preparing food) and gives it transcendental resonance, inspiring music that celebrates the belief that our individual lives are of universal significance. The Alchemical Kitchen is a domestic-mystical, raucous, embodied, hopeful, and ultimately joyful celebration of life.

The Alchemical Kitchen

4 - Dusk Falls

Salford Choral Society premiere of The Gardener with conductor Tom Newall

Composer’s Note

I approached this text from the point of character, drama and storytelling. I tried to inhabit the characters in the piece and act/ tell their story through music.

Because Rebecca’s text is so rich and multilayered with many possible meanings, I was able to think about which layers/ emotional narratives to bring out musically. Sometimes I bring out an emotional narrative simmering slightly below the surface of the text, and sometimes I paint something closer to the surface.

It was important to me that the piece celebrates the joy of singing, music and life in all its complexities. I’ve kept music fast moving and full of bold contrasts and cinematic changes of perspective, responding to the humour and wit in Rebecca’s text and also its depth.

Listening Guide

We awake with a jolt and we hear the choir boldly announce the beginning of the day with the “First Light” theme. We join the crow’s morning routine. She is precise and serious and as she's pecking for worms we hear a pecking motif in the strings and then in the brass. Mist lifts around her in the harp and tremolo strings. The music becomes jubilant as the crow finds and eats a worm. There is a sharp shift from joy to horror as she crunches the worm. Emerging from the still aftermath of the worm’s death, we meet the gardener, who pops out into the garden to drink her morning tea and watch the sunlight dispelling mist. We jolt back to the perspective of the crow who watches the gardener do some gardening. As she’s digging the compost heap, she finds a grass snake. The grass snake is characterised by some slippery, silvery music in piano, harp, flutes and cor anglais, which we hear slowly slinking into the distance.

A raucous drinking song breaks out as the gunnerra (a giant rhubarb plant), and an unseasonal heatwave, drink the pond dry. We then hear a slightly manic show tune, with rising panic about where all the pond creatures have gone. This ramps up and up until it explodes into a scream of GET THE WATERING CAN! This dissipates into the lethargy of a hot day. The pressure of heat starts building and building until we have a brief, rageous storm from which a gentle, meditative rain shower emerges.

Pizzicato strings nod and bob welcoming us to the meadow. The meadow is a bright collage of quickly changing, energetic music, acting like a collage of different coloured flowers. The meadow dances, starting first with a bright waltz, then a more driving, snapping groove for seeds scattering and popping. We hear a buzzing tangle of flowers, each flower having its own melody and rhythm. First you hear each flower on its own, and then they start interlocking and tangling together. This bursts into a more rowdy waltz, where pollinators dance nectar drunk. These different sections are juxtaposed kaleidoscopically, creating a joyous and merry celebration of life.

Dusk then begins to fall, the work of the day is done, the gardener is sitting on a bench, watching the night encroach. There is a feeling of grief and delicate sadness, but also beauty, dignity and power. As the piece comes to a close, the opening “First Light” theme resounds, in the horn then the flute. First light rears its head as the natural world’s inevitable cycle of time begins again.

The Gardener - Dusk Falls

3. The Meadow

Salford Choral Society premiere of The Gardener with conductor Tom Newall

Composer’s Note

I approached this text from the point of character, drama and storytelling. I tried to inhabit the characters in the piece and act/ tell their story through music.

Because Rebecca’s text is so rich and multilayered with many possible meanings, I was able to think about which layers/ emotional narratives to bring out musically. Sometimes I bring out an emotional narrative simmering slightly below the surface of the text, and sometimes I paint something closer to the surface.

It was important to me that the piece celebrates the joy of singing, music and life in all its complexities. I’ve kept music fast moving and full of bold contrasts and cinematic changes of perspective, responding to the humour and wit in Rebecca’s text and also its depth.

Listening Guide

We awake with a jolt and we hear the choir boldly announce the beginning of the day with the “First Light” theme. We join the crow’s morning routine. She is precise and serious and as she's pecking for worms we hear a pecking motif in the strings and then in the brass. Mist lifts around her in the harp and tremolo strings. The music becomes jubilant as the crow finds and eats a worm. There is a sharp shift from joy to horror as she crunches the worm. Emerging from the still aftermath of the worm’s death, we meet the gardener, who pops out into the garden to drink her morning tea and watch the sunlight dispelling mist. We jolt back to the perspective of the crow who watches the gardener do some gardening. As she’s digging the compost heap, she finds a grass snake. The grass snake is characterised by some slippery, silvery music in piano, harp, flutes and cor anglais, which we hear slowly slinking into the distance.

A raucous drinking song breaks out as the gunnerra (a giant rhubarb plant), and an unseasonal heatwave, drink the pond dry. We then hear a slightly manic show tune, with rising panic about where all the pond creatures have gone. This ramps up and up until it explodes into a scream of GET THE WATERING CAN! This dissipates into the lethargy of a hot day. The pressure of heat starts building and building until we have a brief, rageous storm from which a gentle, meditative rain shower emerges.

Pizzicato strings nod and bob welcoming us to the meadow. The meadow is a bright collage of quickly changing, energetic music, acting like a collage of different coloured flowers. The meadow dances, starting first with a bright waltz, then a more driving, snapping groove for seeds scattering and popping. We hear a buzzing tangle of flowers, each flower having its own melody and rhythm. First you hear each flower on its own, and then they start interlocking and tangling together. This bursts into a more rowdy waltz, where pollinators dance nectar drunk. These different sections are juxtaposed kaleidoscopically, creating a joyous and merry celebration of life.

Dusk then begins to fall, the work of the day is done, the gardener is sitting on a bench, watching the night encroach. There is a feeling of grief and delicate sadness, but also beauty, dignity and power. As the piece comes to a close, the opening “First Light” theme resounds, in the horn then the flute. First light rears its head as the natural world’s inevitable cycle of time begins again.

The Gardener - The Meadow

2. Water Feature

Salford Choral Society premiere of The Gardener with conductor Tom Newall

Composer’s Note

I approached this text from the point of character, drama and storytelling. I tried to inhabit the characters in the piece and act/ tell their story through music.

Because Rebecca’s text is so rich and multilayered with many possible meanings, I was able to think about which layers/ emotional narratives to bring out musically. Sometimes I bring out an emotional narrative simmering slightly below the surface of the text, and sometimes I paint something closer to the surface.

It was important to me that the piece celebrates the joy of singing, music and life in all its complexities. I’ve kept music fast moving and full of bold contrasts and cinematic changes of perspective, responding to the humour and wit in Rebecca’s text and also its depth.

Listening Guide

We awake with a jolt and we hear the choir boldly announce the beginning of the day with the “First Light” theme. We join the crow’s morning routine. She is precise and serious and as she's pecking for worms we hear a pecking motif in the strings and then in the brass. Mist lifts around her in the harp and tremolo strings. The music becomes jubilant as the crow finds and eats a worm. There is a sharp shift from joy to horror as she crunches the worm. Emerging from the still aftermath of the worm’s death, we meet the gardener, who pops out into the garden to drink her morning tea and watch the sunlight dispelling mist. We jolt back to the perspective of the crow who watches the gardener do some gardening. As she’s digging the compost heap, she finds a grass snake. The grass snake is characterised by some slippery, silvery music in piano, harp, flutes and cor anglais, which we hear slowly slinking into the distance.

A raucous drinking song breaks out as the gunnerra (a giant rhubarb plant), and an unseasonal heatwave, drink the pond dry. We then hear a slightly manic show tune, with rising panic about where all the pond creatures have gone. This ramps up and up until it explodes into a scream of GET THE WATERING CAN! This dissipates into the lethargy of a hot day. The pressure of heat starts building and building until we have a brief, rageous storm from which a gentle, meditative rain shower emerges.

Pizzicato strings nod and bob welcoming us to the meadow. The meadow is a bright collage of quickly changing, energetic music, acting like a collage of different coloured flowers. The meadow dances, starting first with a bright waltz, then a more driving, snapping groove for seeds scattering and popping. We hear a buzzing tangle of flowers, each flower having its own melody and rhythm. First you hear each flower on its own, and then they start interlocking and tangling together. This bursts into a more rowdy waltz, where pollinators dance nectar drunk. These different sections are juxtaposed kaleidoscopically, creating a joyous and merry celebration of life.

Dusk then begins to fall, the work of the day is done, the gardener is sitting on a bench, watching the night encroach. There is a feeling of grief and delicate sadness, but also beauty, dignity and power. As the piece comes to a close, the opening “First Light” theme resounds, in the horn then the flute. First light rears its head as the natural world’s inevitable cycle of time begins again.

The Gardener - Water Feature

1. First Light

Salford Choral Society premiere of The Gardener with conductor Tom Newall

Composer’s Note

I approached this text from the point of character, drama and storytelling. I tried to inhabit the characters in the piece and act/ tell their story through music.

Because Rebecca’s text is so rich and multilayered with many possible meanings, I was able to think about which layers/ emotional narratives to bring out musically. Sometimes I bring out an emotional narrative simmering slightly below the surface of the text, and sometimes I paint something closer to the surface.

It was important to me that the piece celebrates the joy of singing, music and life in all its complexities. I’ve kept music fast moving and full of bold contrasts and cinematic changes of perspective, responding to the humour and wit in Rebecca’s text and also its depth.

Listening Guide

We awake with a jolt and we hear the choir boldly announce the beginning of the day with the “First Light” theme. We join the crow’s morning routine. She is precise and serious and as she's pecking for worms we hear a pecking motif in the strings and then in the brass. Mist lifts around her in the harp and tremolo strings. The music becomes jubilant as the crow finds and eats a worm. There is a sharp shift from joy to horror as she crunches the worm. Emerging from the still aftermath of the worm’s death, we meet the gardener, who pops out into the garden to drink her morning tea and watch the sunlight dispelling mist. We jolt back to the perspective of the crow who watches the gardener do some gardening. As she’s digging the compost heap, she finds a grass snake. The grass snake is characterised by some slippery, silvery music in piano, harp, flutes and cor anglais, which we hear slowly slinking into the distance.

A raucous drinking song breaks out as the gunnerra (a giant rhubarb plant), and an unseasonal heatwave, drink the pond dry. We then hear a slightly manic show tune, with rising panic about where all the pond creatures have gone. This ramps up and up until it explodes into a scream of GET THE WATERING CAN! This dissipates into the lethargy of a hot day. The pressure of heat starts building and building until we have a brief, rageous storm from which a gentle, meditative rain shower emerges.

Pizzicato strings nod and bob welcoming us to the meadow. The meadow is a bright collage of quickly changing, energetic music, acting like a collage of different coloured flowers. The meadow dances, starting first with a bright waltz, then a more driving, snapping groove for seeds scattering and popping. We hear a buzzing tangle of flowers, each flower having its own melody and rhythm. First you hear each flower on its own, and then they start interlocking and tangling together. This bursts into a more rowdy waltz, where pollinators dance nectar drunk. These different sections are juxtaposed kaleidoscopically, creating a joyous and merry celebration of life.

Dusk then begins to fall, the work of the day is done, the gardener is sitting on a bench, watching the night encroach. There is a feeling of grief and delicate sadness, but also beauty, dignity and power. As the piece comes to a close, the opening “First Light” theme resounds, in the horn then the flute. First light rears its head as the natural world’s inevitable cycle of time begins again.

The Gardener - First Light

The Longest Night is a queer solstice carol that follows the journey of someone who arrives at a festive party alone, and walks out onto snow-covered streets hand-in-hand with someone new. Through an evening filled with joyful singing and dancing, a new, romantic connection is forged. This is a piece about the warmth, excitement and hope of falling in love at the darkest time of the year.

The piece was commissioned by The Sunday Boys and was premiered on 21st December 2024 in Manchester Cathedral as part of A Very Queer Christmas Our Solstice Night. It was conducted by Michael Betteridge. 

The Longest Night

It is Vanessa’s wedding day and it is time for the most crucially important part of the day, the wedding photo.  Vanessa takes centre stage and everyone poses for the camera.  However, a bridesmaid and an usher start to show early signs of disinterest and bitchiness.  The guests quickly tire of smiling for the camera and Vanessa battles to get them back on board, becoming increasingly anxious and panicking that the perfect photo may not be achieved.  The initial facade of happiness starts to crumble.   The groom confesses that he is ‘exhausted, nervous and stressed’ and that his bride ‘looks ok’.  Vanessa’s friends’ jealousy, impatience and general contempt begin to surface as she starts to lose control of the proceedings.   Her dream of perfection disintegrates into her worst nightmare.

Vanessa (Bride) - Freya Holliman 		
Cathy (Greek Chorus) - Charlie Trepess
Verity(Bridesmaid) - Joanna Harries 		
Sue (Greek Chorus) - Emma Louise Jones 		
Brian (Usher) - Alex Banfield 			
James (Greek Chorus) - James Hendry 			
David (Groom) - Steven Curtis Griffin 		 
Jim (Best Man) - Neil Balfour 
 

Cheese!

Masculine – Feminine was commissioned for the 2015 RNCM Day of Song: Cabaret! It sets a translation of the lyrics of an original German Cabaret song.

Music by Lucy Armstrong
Original German words by Marcellus Schiffer (1882 – 1932) 
English lyrics by Jeremy Lawrence from a translation by Kathleen L. Komar 

Baritone – James Berry
Piano – Simon Passmore

Masculine - Feminine

Melodrama for Saxophone and Piano is a three-movement work written for Erin Royer in the summer of 2014.  After a tense opening, the first movement surges into a manic argument.  The following movement is a desolately melancholy reflection, interrupted by two surges of anger.  The final movement opens with a burst of joyous energy, banishing the doom-laden atmosphere.  Momentum is established from the start and keeps driving forward constantly, a soaring melody occasionally erupting from the pulsing drive. 

Melodrama for Saxophone and Piano was premiered by Erin Royer and Ben Powell at the 2015 World Saxophone Congress in Strasbourg.  This piece has been released on Erin's debut album "Into the Moment", which can be purchased here: http://www.erinroyer.com/purchase/

With thanks to Erin, with whom it has been a great pleasure to work. 

Soprano Saxophone - Erin Royer
Piano - Ben Powell
Recorded by Rob Buckland


Melodrama  III. Movement

Melodrama  II. Aftermath

Melodrama  I. The Argument

Look Inside is a new school song for Barlow Hall Primary School and was written as part of a project with RNCM Engage. The aim of this project was to develop the school environment for children who have autism, whilst raising awareness of the condition for all the children in the school and their parents through celebrating uniqueness, difference and individuality.

The  creation  of this song  allowed for both  mainstream children  and those with autism to  work together, suggesting musical ideas and words, which represent the values of Barlow Hall.

Music by Lucy Armstrong and Kate Pearson

Conducted by Lucy Armstrong
Producers for the Royal Northern College of Music - Fiona Stuart and Sarah Denman 
Producers for Barlow Hall Primary School - Alice Corlett and Hazel Errey 
Recorded by David Coyle and Antoine Remaud 
Edited, mixed and mastered by David Coyle

Look Inside

The RNCM Saxophone orchestra play Selections from Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George arranged by Lucy Armstrong.

Selections from Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George - RNCM Saxophone Orchestra

Many thanks to The Borealis Saxophone Quartet with whom it has been a great pleasure to work.  Check them out here : www.borealissaxophonequartet.com

“After all this Time” is jarringly relaxed after the angst of the first two movements, the rage has been exhausted. Material from the first and second movement is retained but altered.  The relentless motif from the second movement is heard again, but the intervals are expanded.   Melodies from the second movement are restated, but heard against a different emotional landscape.

3. After All This Time

With thanks to the Borealis Saxophone Quartet.  Check them out here: www.borealissaxophonequartet.com

The second movement “…should not exist…” is inspired by a letter that Léona-Camile_Ghislaine D. sent to Andre Breton, the surrealist writer, in Febuary 1926.  Léona, who called herself Nadja had an affair with Breton, which was the stimulus for his successful surrealist novel, Nadja.  Not long after the affairs beginning, Breton started to retract his affections and she tried to contact him frequently.  Eventually, after much desperate pursuit, she sent this final letter:

“Thank you André, I’ve received everything... I don’t want to waste any of the time you’ll need for loftier things – Whatever you do will be done well – Let nothing stop you – There are enough people whose mission it is to put out the Flame – Every day thought is renewed – It’s wise not to dwell on the impossible…”

Nadja was a fragile soul before the affair and it proved too much for her.  Not long after she sent this letter, Nadja was admitted to a mental hospital where she died fourteen years later.   Breton never visited.  This movement is based on the letter above and is essentially a relentlessly manic and aggressive frenzy of self-loathing.  It is based obsessively on a single motif and exploits the raw, aggressive timbres of the saxophone.

2. ...should not exist...

With thanks to the Borealis Saxophone Quartet.  Check them out here: www.borealissaxophonequartet.com

The first movement reflects upon the George Bernard Shaw quote: “The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place”.  This conversation takes place between two blocks of opposing material.  Each block politely states its position alternately, though each remains unchanged, un-listening.    The intensity of the debate increases as exchanges become more frequent, until they collide still unchanged, talking over each other. The louder block eventually breaks thorough, triumphantly finishing the movement victorious.   At the end of this conversation, no communication has taken place; the more subdued point of view has merely been drowned out.

1. The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place

Commissioned by Bergen Nasjonale Opera for BNO Unge Stemmer (Young Voices) artist Ingvild Schultze-Florey this new chamber opera gives voice to Nadja, the object of André Breton’s fascination in his 1928 semi-autobiographical surrealist novel Nadja. André Breton’s celebrated surrealist novel Nadja is an undeniably strange book, even an estranged book. Breton’s narrative begins with the question ‘Who am I?’ yet it is only in the chance encounter of a young woman, the eponymous Nadja, that this question finds its own disturbed echo: ‘who am I…would amount to whom I haunt.’ Nadja was not only impoverished but also mentally vulnerable and it was in her troubled state that Breton romanticised an example of authentic surrealism; wilfully misrecognising or distorting her suffering for what could be his art. As abruptly as their lives converged, Breton severed contact, and the relationship was abandoned. Nadja descended into insanity and lived out the rest of her short life in sanatoriums, never to be visited by Breton and never – in the brief narrative of his novel – to be returned to, or reflected upon. She is what haunts the book and, within the book, the presence through which Breton attempts to understand himself. When she becomes most real and most present, Breton recoils and she is made absent. This opera imagines her voice, so conspicuously missing and misinterpreted. A voice that is heard from out of time, out of a struggle with madness, love and neglect and now returning: a restless memory perpetually encountered.

The opera was premiered in April 2015 for Bergen Nasjonale Opera, and was subsequently performed at Tête à Tête opera festival in July the same year. 

This is the audio from a video recording made in February 2017 at the Royal Northern College of Music.

For more information see: www.lucyarmstrong.net

Composer – Lucy Armstrong
Librettist – David Spittle

Nadja performed by Ingvild Schultze-Florey
Pianist - Liga Korne

Recorded by R&W Minty Associates LTD.
Sound Recording – William Minty

Nadja's Song

Extract from A Risk of Lobsters

This is the space section from my chamber opera 'A Risk of Lobsters'.  A greedy Crocodile Prince has been taken to space to learn a lesson about his insignificance from two stars.

Synopsis of the opera:

“ ‘’’’’man’’’’’ is what he eats. “ Ludwig Feuerbach 
This is a fairy tale told by an old man, who takes an obscene pleasure in the status quo, until the characters he invented decide to break the cycle. 
A Ferret Chancellor teaches his young monarch, the Crocodile Prince, how to eat well. His subjects  - the Sheep Chorus - , dance and sing for him until the Prince falls asleep. Two Swallows debate whether to kill him, or to change him for the better. Swallow One takes the Prince into Space where they encounter two Stars who teach the Prince humility. They then travel on to the depths of the sea, where they meet a gloomy Blobfish and a blind Deep-Sea Anglerfish, who, the Prince helps. Lastly, they are serenaded by a sheep in a pastoral paradise. The Swallow and the seemingly-transformed Crocodile fall in love. But truth, goodness and beauty will never change the Prince. The sheep is the disguised revolutionary Swallow Two. She kills the Prince. The Ferret Chancellor kills the assassin. He offers a piece of chocolate to the surviving Swallow. The Chancellor tempts the surviving Swallow with chocolate. As she begins to eat the Prince’s food, she is transformed into the new ruler. Delighted, the Old Man enters his own story, disrupting the order of his own narrative universe…


Conductor – Tim Redmond
Director – John Ramster

Assistant Conductor – Ashley Beauchamp
Répétiteur – Mairi Grewar 

Cast

Swallow 1: Zoe Drummond
Blobfish/Star 1: Samantha Clarke
Swallow 2: Madison Nonoa
The Crocodile Prince: Filipe Manu
Deep-Sea-Angler-Fish/Star 2/ Sheep 4: Séan Boylan
The Ferret Chancellor: Sam Carl
The Old Man: Benson Wilson
Sheep 1: Alexandra Lowe
Sheep 2: Carmen Artaza
Sheep 3: Lucy McAuley

Instrumentation

Flute/ Piccolo
Clarinet/ Bass Clarinet
Horn
Percussion
Harp
Piano
Violin 1
Violin 2
Viola
Cello
Double Bass


Duration c.25 minutes

A Risk Of Lobsters - Space Section

Extract from A Risk of Lobsters

We are underwater. A blobfish is complaining that it's too wet and a deep sea anglerfish is complaining that it's too dark. The prince has the idea that he can light up underwater by giving the anglerfish a jewel from his crown. He can suddenly see in the the sea for the first time.

This is the underwater section from my chamber opera 'A Risk of Lobsters'. A greedy Crocodile Prince has been taken to the depths of the sea to learn about goodness. He helps someone for the first time by giving a miserable deep sea anglerfish a jewel from his crown, allowing the anglerfish to see. He witnesses the joy that helping others can bring.

Synopsis of the opera:

“ ‘’’’’man’’’’’ is what he eats. “ Ludwig Feuerbach
This is a fairy tale told by an old man, who takes an obscene pleasure in the status quo, until the characters he invented decide to break the cycle.
A Ferret Chancellor teaches his young monarch, the Crocodile Prince, how to eat well. His subjects - the Sheep Chorus - , dance and sing for him until the Prince falls asleep. Two Swallows debate whether to kill him, or to change him for the better. Swallow One takes the Prince into Space where they encounter two Stars who teach the Prince humility. They then travel on to the depths of the sea, where they meet a gloomy Blobfish and a blind Deep-Sea Anglerfish, who, the Prince helps. Lastly, they are serenaded by a sheep in a pastoral paradise. The Swallow and the seemingly-transformed Crocodile fall in love. But truth, goodness and beauty will never change the Prince. The sheep is the disguised revolutionary Swallow Two. She kills the Prince. The Ferret Chancellor kills the assassin. He offers a piece of chocolate to the surviving Swallow. The Chancellor tempts the surviving Swallow with chocolate. As she begins to eat the Prince’s food, she is transformed into the new ruler. Delighted, the Old Man enters his own story, disrupting the order of his own narrative universe…

Conductor – Tim Redmond
Director – John Ramster

Assistant Conductor – Ashley Beauchamp
Répétiteur – Mairi Grewar

Cast

Swallow 1: Zoe Drummond
Blobfish/Star 1: Samantha Clarke
Swallow 2: Madison Nonoa
The Crocodile Prince: Filipe Manu
Deep-Sea-Angler-Fish/Star 2/ Sheep 4: Séan Boylan
The Ferret Chancellor: Sam Carl
The Old Man: Benson Wilson
Sheep 1: Alexandra Lowe
Sheep 2: Carmen Artaza
Sheep 3: Lucy McAuley

Instrumentation

Flute/ Piccolo
Clarinet/ Bass Clarinet
Horn
Percussion
Harp
Piano
Violin 1
Violin 2
Viola
Cello
Double Bass

Duration c.25 minutes

A Risk of Lobsters - Underwater Sequence

This is an extract from the short film Clan, which was written and directed by Claudia Lee and produced by Connie Fyans. 

The film follows Maeve, who’s mother has recently died. She travels to her mother’s childhood home, having been estranged from her mother’s side of the family and discovers her pagan roots for the first time. This track underscores Maeve connecting with the Scottish countryside and finding an ancient pagan ritual. The picture shows singing and hand drums being played, so I scored the scene with just voice and percussion, though the percussion is mostly bowed or played with a superball. The sound, like Maeve, is connected but dissociated in relation to the picture.

Percussion - Aiden Marsden
Voice - Lucy Armstrong

Maeve's Discovery

Lucy Armstrong is a London based composer who writes boldly theatrical music for the stage and concert hall. Her work has been performed across the world including in Norway, Japan, Colombia, the US and across Europe and has been broadcast on BBC Radio 3.

In 2022, Lucy was one of five composers who collaboratively scored Gods of the Game, an opera about football and corruption commissioned by Sky Arts. Gods of the Game was produced by Grange Park Opera and Factory Films, and broadcast live on Sky Arts. In 2017-2018, Lucy wrote a chamber opera, A Risk of Lobsters, in association with the Royal Opera House. Lucy wrote a chamber opera for Bergen National Opera and this work was subsequently performed at the Tête à Tête Opera Festival (London) and at the Pontificia Universidad Javeriana (Colombia) in 2015. She’s currently resident composer at Glyndebourne and recently wrote a children’s Christmas song with writer Helen Arney which was sung by over 2000 local primary school children across 8 performances. She also developed an opera for care homes with Glyndebourne which premiered in 2024 and was toured to 15 care homes across the Sussex area. 

In 2021-2022, Lucy and Rebecca Hurst were commissioned by Salford Choral society to write a 25 minute work for choir and orchestra for Salford Choral Society and Piccadilly Symphony Orchestra. Following the success of the premiere in 2022, the pair were then commissioned by Cambridge Philharmonic to write another large scale work for symphony orchestra and chorus which premiered in 2023. They were then commissioned by Glyndebourne to write “The Stone Flower” for mezzo soprano and ensemble and this piece was premiered by Jade Moffat in 2024.

In 2024 she collaborated with BCMG, Haroon Mirza, Juliet Fraser and David Spittle on “Waking from Time” a collaborative, cross genre, multi-disciplinary performance. After working with Psappha on their “Composing For” scheme, Lucy was awarded their inaugural Peter Maxwell Davies commission in 2018, to write a 15-minute chamber work. She has also been commissioned by FontanaMix, one of Italy’s leading new music ensembles. In 2021-22 she won a place on the Royal Philharmonic Society (RPS) Composers’ Scheme where she wrote a chamber work for French horn and piano which premiered at the Wigmore Hall. She was commissioned by The Arch Sinfonia and Chloé van Soeterstède to write a 20 minute saxophone concerto which was premiered in 2023 by Gillian Blair.

Using composition as a creative tool for outreach and education is an important part of Lucy’s practice. She regularly leads participation and learning projects with the London Sinfonietta and recently conducted “We need to have a conversation” written in collaboration with secondary school students in London Sinfonietta’s 50th Anniversary concert. Lucy was commissioned by London Sinfonietta as part of their Sound Out concert series to write “Patterns and Mirrors” for Sinfonietta and youth ensemble, which was conducted by Armstrong to a full Royal Festival Hall of school children. She has also worked with Glyndebourne youth opera, Piccadilly Symphony Orchestra and RNCM Engage. Lucy’s collaborative project with Kate Pearson and RNCM Engage was nominated for a Times Higher Education Award in 2018. She has taught at the University of West London and regularly deputises at Trinity Juniors, City Young Musicians (Junior Guildhall) and Morley College. 

Lucy studied at the RNCM with Gary Carpenter and Adam Gorb and then with Julian Philips at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, where she went on to be a Fellow in Composition (2018-19).

For more information visit: www.lucyarmstrong.net

Lucy Armstrong

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