Hugh Shrapnel shares thoughts on his music, influences, and life as a composer

Hugh Shrapnel

Having reviewed three albums of composer Hugh Shrapnel’s music now, it was a pleasure to have the opportunity to sit down with him recently and discuss his music, his influences, and his life as a musician and composer.
 
We began discussing what pointed Hugh in the direction of music and composition in the first place. He was born in Birmingham in 1947, but grew up in Stockport (as, coincidentally, did I). His father Norman Shrapnel was a journalist with The Guardian, his older brother John an actor and their mother Myfanwy an artist. Norman Shrapnel was a great music lover and good amateur violinist, often playing chamber music with friends. Hugh began playing the recorder aged seven, went on to play the oboe from the age of 13, and then began to play the piano in his mid-teens.

Hugh Shrapnel
credit: Phoebus Apostolide

Composition came early - he was inventing tunes as a boy, and he remembers a marching tune that he used to sing all the time, driving his mother mad! He started composing seriously at around fourteen, and was fascinated by modern music, inspired by hearing a performance of Schoenberg’s Serenade on the radio and Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. So he already knew he wanted to be a composer at that time. His father, and Mary Stott, a musician friend and fellow Guardian journalist (the founder of the paper’s women’s page) encouraged him, although initially, academic studying of music took a back seat to his keenness for listening to new music and writing. He went to the Battersea College of Technology for a year, studying with Hans Heimler, the Austrian composer and musicologist, who had studied with Berg and Weingartner. From there, he went on to the Royal Academy of Music, where he initially studied composition with Norman Demuth, whose main interest was French music. Shrapnel’s interest lay in avant garde, serial music, so he moved to study with Cornelius Cardew, and this was a better fit, opening many opportunities for him in experimental music. He joined Cardew’s Scratch Orchestra, and they took their experimental music out of the concert halls, touring in the North East, Wales and Cornwall. ‘What they thought of what we were doing is something else!’, says Hugh, but he says that their mission was partly to rebel against the musical establishment of the time. 

 

Collaborating with other musicians has always been important for Hugh, from those early days with Cardew and other important British experimental composers such as John White, Chris Hobbs and Alec Hill, with whom he formed the quartet, the Promenade Theatre Orchestra, right through to more recent piano duetting with fellow composer John Lewis. This led to Elements of London, the first recording of his work (and Lewis’) by the Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. It’s also worth mentioning that Cardew directed many of those early experimental pioneers, including Hugh, in the UK premiere in 1968 of Terry Riley’s In C. Along the way, Hugh’s compositions have often been for the musician friends around him, and unusual combinations of instruments have always interested him. On mentioning in conversation that I had played the euphonium at school, Hugh immediately referred to his piece for euphonium and two electric keyboards, West Pier, and he’s currently working on completing a long cycle of pieces for accordion, trumpet, piano, percussion and cello. Other collaborators include the BBC Radio 3 presenter and pianist Sarah Walker and composer pianist Robert Coleridge (who passed away in 2019), who recorded his South of the River suite of piano duos in 1998, and have been great supporters of his work. The Cornelius Cardew Concerts Trust, led by composer Michael Chant has been also very significant, with Hugh’s compositions receiving frequent performances at their Morley College concerts.

 

Promenade Theatre Orchestra, 1972

Aside from the South of the River suite, and a 1972 Promenade Theatre Orchestra recording, the more recent Convivium Records albums are the only available recordings of Hugh’s work. However, there are a number of performances of some of the earlier experimental works on YouTube, including several of Raindrops, a work ‘for any number or kind of tuned and untuned percussion, guitars and other plucked strings’. These include one for flutes, guitars and keyboards, as well as one for glockenspiels. Following those early experimental years, like a lot of other composers, Hugh gradually moved towards more ‘conventional’ music, as he describes it. ‘It (experimental music) had run its course, and I wanted to write tunes again. Looking back on the experimental music, it was a short-lived phenomenon’. Whilst he has still performed such works more recently, it now somehow ‘feels like going back in time’.

Raindrops (1970) by Hugh Shrapnel

performed by Jost Nickel et al.

Hugh says he rarely starts from a purely musical idea when composing, but often more  of a poetic image. He describes such pieces as ‘descriptive, of a mood - poems in music, if that’s not too pretentious’. It is that ability to capture this in small form, distilling an image, a thought or an idea, that is so impressive in his work. There is a clear thread of connection with local environment, community and political issues in much of his work. ‘During the experimental time, it was all to do with concepts, in its own little world’. That’s not to say that politics weren’t important then too. Hugh played oboe in the Peoples’ Liberation Music, a political music group in the 1970s, playing folk and ‘agit-pop’, and they often played on demonstrations against cuts, supporting the miners’ strike, the Irish Struggles and anti-fascism. 

Hugh feels rooted in the geographical area of South East London, where he has lived for most of his life. He moved from Stockport to Blackheath when he was 12, and apart from a few years in Birmingham, he has remained in the area. Why? ‘Well, force of habit. But I like it – there are lots of parks and open space, and I’ve always loved the countryside and nature’. Oxleas Wood, the first piece in South of the River, was written in support of a successful local campaign against a motorway being carved through this ancient wood. Like many, composing has not been his sole profession from necessity. In the 70s and 80s he taught music in schools and further education colleges, but then spent many years working part time in a council housing department. Teaching was demanding, with marking and preparing eating into his time. The housing job, whilst demanding in its own way, it gave more free time for composition, but it also brought him into the outside world. New music circles can become somewhat isolationist, whilst Hugh feels that music is very much ‘to do with everyday life’. He thinks more and more about the idea of music being expressive, in contrast to the earlier experimental view of music as pure sounds. In essence, he is ‘more and more concerned with melody’.

 

With three recordings of his music on Convivium Records under his belt, a fourth is on the way. Following on from piano duos, solo piano works and wind chamber works, the new album will be music for strings, including a new work for string quartet. He’s also working on orchestrating some of his earlier works, including the South of the River piano duets. So there’s still more to come, and I for one will be looking forward to hearing more very soon.

At the Rivoli by Hugh Shrapnel, 

performed by the Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble

Recordings of Hugh Shrapnel's music on Convivium Records:

Various. 2020. Elements of London. Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR055.

My review here.

Shrapnel, H. 2023. Hugh Shrapnel: Piano Works. Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR087.

My review here.

Shrapnel, H. 2025. Chamber Works. Camarilla Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR097.

My review here.

Variety & atmosphere in chamber works by Hugh Shrapnel, performed with energy & sensitivity by the Camarilla Ensemble

I’ve reviewed two discs previously of piano music by English composer Hugh Shrapnel (b.1947) (here & here), and have been impressed by his ability to capture diverse moods and atmospheres, often in very short pieces. So I was certainly interested to hear some of his music for other instruments, and was pleased to find the same variety of mood and style, combined with some strong idiomatic writing for wind and brass instruments. The Camarilla Ensemble is a wind quintet (Julian Sperry (flute/piccolo), Rachel Harwood-White (oboe), Nicholas Ellis (clarinet), Louise Watson (bassoon) & Jonathan Farey (horn)), and for this recording, they are augmented with the addition of Simon Wills on alto & tenor trombones, and Alison Rhind on piano. So here we have various duo pieces for a wind instrument plus piano, a trio, a quartet and the most extended work, a six movement Wind Quintet. All written in the last twenty or so years, the pieces were composed for a variety of individual performers or for festivals, particularly the London New Wind Festival. The disc opens with a light Sonatina for Horn and Piano, with a playful, music-hall feel to its opening Allegro, with relaxed, lyrical playing from the horn over bouncing piano rhythms. The central Adagio is more mysterious and introvert, with the piano offering high, quiet echoes to the horn’s yearning figures, before the Con Moto trots along to a fun finish. The next work, Objets Fixes for Oboe, Clarinet, Horn and Tenor Trombone, is a little more challenging, with its insistent, spiky rhythmic figures that persist throughout the first four of its five short movements. Often one or two instruments have fixed, almost mechanical repetitions, whilst the other instruments slide, even dance around. It is only in the final Grave that the forced rhythms fall away, and the work ends in a more reflective mood. Political inspiration comes in with Coalition Blues for Alto Trombone and Piano, a short piece written in response to the 2010 Coalition Government and a reaction against the effects of their austerity programme. A short ‘People’s Theme’ is varied and transformed, with dramatic, even angry effect in the piece’s brief three minutes. A Trio for Flute, Clarinet and Piano follows, with playful, twisting lines, all three instruments chasing each other, then coming together at times. The mood develops into darker, more nocturnal territory, with the flute and clarinet flying about almost moth-like over mysterious piano rippling, leading to a quiet, almost static ending. Belladonna for Flute and Piano opens with dark, dreamlike piano textures, before the Debussy-esque liquid flute joins, and the resulting duet is effectively atmospheric. In contrast the Sonata for Clarinet and Pianothat follows begins in a joyful mood, with a light opening clarinet melodic line, soon taken over by the piano, with echoes from the clarinet in return. A darker intensity develops, and the movement concludes in a less certain mood, to be followed by a Satie-esque, lugubrious slow movement, with ebbing and flowing climaxes. The piano’s relentless 3+2+3 rhythm drives the final movement, with angular lines from the clarinet making for a somewhat moody, edgy and even fraught climax. The final, and most substantial work, Hilly Fields for Wind Quintet, is much more overtly programmatic and conjures up a variety of scenes in areas of South East London where Shrapnel lives. There is a bustling, easy feel to Morning Run that opens the work, soon followed by relaxed nostalgia in Reverie, then Games presents a series of playful sports and games, with chasing rhythms, before Blythe Hill returns to a quieter, more atmospheric mood, although not totally idyllic, with dark moments and birds sounding somewhat anxious. Dusk follows, and there’s a lot going on here, surprisingly busy, with nocturnal creatures emerging. But Fayre to end the work is bustling and lively, bringing this evocative piece to a happy conclusion. Throughout all these works, Shrapnel once again demonstrates his ability to create a wide variety of atmospheres in miniature form, and the Camarilla Ensemble and friends’ playing communicates the lively and quirky rhythms with precision, as well as capturing those mood swings from piece to piece.  

Shrapnel, H. 2025. Chamber Works. Camarilla Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR097.

Atmospheric and expressive piano works from Hugh Shrapnel performed with virtuosic command by the Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble

I reviewed a recording from the Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble (pianists Natalie Tsaldarakis and Panayotis Archontides) performing piano music by composers John Lewis (b.1947) and Hugh Shrapnel (b.1947) back in 2020 (here), and I very much enjoyed their atmospheric yet virtuosic performances. They’re back, with Piano Works, this time just by Hugh Shrapnel. On the previous recording, I was struck by the variety of Shrapnel’s mostly miniature pieces, from moody and atmospheric to energetic and at times even aggressive, and this new recording confirms that variety in Shrapnel’s writing for the piano. Again, there are few pieces here longer than a few minutes, yet within this miniature form, Shrapnel captures a mood instantly. A pecking Robin, a weird unidentified creature (insect? small rodent?) in Jump, or comedic, even slightly chaotic Jugglers, all feature in his Piano Set No. 1, alongside the darker, more introspective moods of Shade and Wood at Night. On this disc, in fact there are only two pieces for the duo – the rest are works for solo piano, and they are split fairly evenly between Tsaldarakis and Archontides. So Tsaldarakis takes the Piano Set No. 1, and captures beautifully those mood swings from one momentary movement to the next, some under a minute long. There is a lazy, bluesy tiredness to Small Hours, and Red Queen’s minimalist running on the spot is delivered effortlessly. Archontides plays Shrapnel’s Sonatina, ostensibly more formally structured, but still with now familiar elements such as rippling movement and subtly shifting harmonies, but Archontides also captures the lilting yet plangent mood of the central movement, written as a memorial to Shrapnel’s father. Archontides also takes Love-Hate, contrasting an almost violent opening with more introspective, reflective passages, and his tone is rich and resonant, with a deep tolling bass. And in Esquisse mécanique, written for a volume of piano music inspired by Alkan, Archontides’ virtuosity shines through, its playful, perpetual 5/8 rhythms rippling along without much let up, and exploiting the extreme registers of the keyboard. He also takes two of the three movements of Le Temps Perdu, giving the second movement’s slightly sarcastic, tango-esque rhythms quite dramatic weight, contrasting with the calmer yet darker mood of the slower third movment. Tsaldarkis’ opening movement of this set is playful with hints at dance rhythms within a jazzy, cabaret-style mood. Tsaldarkis performs Sphinxes (drawing on the sets of cryptogram notes Schumann laid out in the middle of Carnival), which is full of silence and hanging resonance, with just a brief moment of outburst adding to the mystery. Premonition is full of foreboding, with its contrary motion between the hands and tolling bells, and For Bob, a tribute to Robert Coleridge, a friend and colleague of Shrapnel’s, shares some of the same bell-like tolling, with repeating falling cries, which later become more chordal in texture, possibly even slightly angry in tone. The players join for just two pieces. In Follow me up to Carlow, Shrapnel pays tribute to his composition teacher Cornelius Cardew, drawing on an old Irish tune celebrating victory over English soldiers at the Battle of Glenmalure. The longest track here, at nearly eight minutes, this is a piece full of dramatic rhythmic energy, and its cross-rhythms build in intensity over insistent rumblings in the bass. The two pianists circle each other in the virtuosic sections, yet retreat into a more reflective mood, before everything comes together for a slightly frenzied climax, before subsiding into ringing chords and tolling bass notes. And they end the disc with For an Alternative, another piece honouring Cardew, with clamorous, resonant bells to open, before driving rhythmic energy takes hold, and here the duo’s virtuosic timing is particularly impressive. This is a great showcase for the variety of expression and mood in Shrapnel’s piano writing, as well as for the virtuosic command of these two pianists, alone or as a duo. 

Shrapnel, H. 2023. Hugh Shrapnel: Piano Works. Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR087.  

CD Reviews - October 2020

French pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet released his set of complete Piano Sonatas by Beethoven (1770-1827) back in 2017, and it still remains the go to edition for me. So it’s great to see him now turn his attention to the five Piano Concertos. Spread across a three-disc set, he throws in a performance of the Quintet for Piano and Winds, for which he is joined by players from the Swedish Chamber Orchestra, who play alongside him in the concertos. Beethoven’s five concertos span well over twenty years of his career, and sketches exist at either end of concertos from as early as 1783 and as late as 1815. Here the five completed concertos are placed in order of their composition, so No. 2 in B flat major comes first, as it was actually composed back in 1787, before No. 1 in C major (1795). No. 2 is clearly Mozartian in many ways, but already here we have Beethoven’s stamp on the genre, with dramatic contrast of emphatic statements followed by delicate responses in the slow movement, and constant playing with the sense of downbeat and upbeat in the joyful Rondo. No. 1 has the same sense of rhythmic confusion in its Rondo too, and here Beethoven makes wonderful use of the clarinet in conversation with the piano in the slow movement. There is sprightly energy from the Swedish Chamber Orchestra throughout, and Bavouzet positively fizzes in the rippling runs, and attacks the finales with a great sense of fun. On the other hand, his delicacy of touch in the slow movements is delightful, and this comes to the fore again in No. 3 in C minor. The Swedish wind players are also prominent here, and their conversational exchanges with Bavouzet are subtle and poised. In the faster movements, Bavouzet’s tempi are always brisk, but never feel rushed, his fast runs always fluid and effortless. No. 4 in G major moves things onto another level, with a much broader sense of architecture, from its prayerful opening, right through to the galloping finale. Again, the slow movement is conversational, this time between just strings and the piano, with Bavouzet and the Swedish players creating a moment of intimacy amidst the grandeur of the outer movements. No. 5 in E flat major (the ‘Emperor’, although the origin of this nickname is unclear – it definitely wasn't specifically linked to Napoleon, as famously the Eroica Symphony was initially) is again on a grand scale, and there is a real sense of opening out here, with more expansive playing from both Bavouzet and the orchestra. The outer movements have great panache, particularly in the joyfully ebullient finale. The central slow movement is understated, and Bavouzet avoids over-sentimentalising proceedings – although I could have tolerated a little more indulgence here. But this is a minor point of taste – overall, this is an impressive collection, and I’ll definitely be returning to this frequently, alongside Bavouzet’s Sonata set. The bonus Quintet is a treat – a young work from Beethoven, giving greater prominence to the clarinet than to the other wind instruments (oboe, bassoon and horn), but packed full of joyful melodic material. The Swedish players here play alongside Bavouzet with great style, creating a pleasing palate-cleanser to round off the three-disc set.

Beethoven, L.v. 2020. Beethoven - the Piano Concertos. Jean Efflam-Bavouzet, Swedish Chamber Orchestra. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Discs (3). Chandos CHSA 5273.

Last year I reviewed a delightful recording from Flaugissimo Duo, who I first came across when they were part of the Brighton Early Music Festival’s BREMF Live! Scheme. Now, one half of the duo, guitarist Johan Löfving has recorded Fandango!, a collection of music for solo guitar from the late 18^th and early 19^th centuries, when the six-stringed guitar flourished in the salons and concert halls of Paris and Vienna. So the works on offer here vary from the Viennese classicism of Mauro Guiliani’s (1781-1829) Sonata Brillante, with its playful Beethoven- or Hummel-esque pianistic style, and lyrical melodies, to the more explicitly Spanish influenced Fandango Variado by Dionisio Aguado (1784-1849), with its swirling dance rhythms and strumming flourishes. Interestingly, the guitar’s lack of ability to sustain notes creates interesting pregnant pauses in the slow movement of the Giuliani, but Löfving’s gentle vibrato manages to still make the melodies sing here. French composer, Napoléon Coste’s (1805-1883) Soirées d’Auteuil is unashamedly romantic, full of operatic melodies, virtuosic runs and cascading arpeggios, and Löfving has great fun here. A sense of decorum is restored in the brief Étude from the great composer and teacher, Fernando Sor (1778-1839). Löfving’s touch here is delicate and expressive, bringing out the duetting melodic lines with great sensitivity. Giulio Regondi (1822-1872) spent most of his adult life in the UK, and his relatively recently discovered Introduction et Caprice, following its chorale-like opening, is full of dancing virtuosity, another chance for Löfving to demonstrate the fluidity of his playing. To close the disc, he is joined by the Consone Quartet, current BBC New Generation Artists, for a performance of Luigi Boccherini’s (1743-1804) Quintet No. 4. This opens with a warm Pastorale, full of birdlike violin twiddles and musette-droning lower strings. The sound here is somewhat muted, and the rippling guitar part is understated, with only a brief moment of emphasis towards the movement’s conclusion. The strings sound more insistent in the second movement, but again, perhaps with an aim to achieve the right balance with the quieter guitar, the overall sound is subdued, although energy picks up with rustic dancing and a joyful, trilling close to the movement. The final movement, after a dramatic introduction and guitar solo, launches into a spirited and lively Fandango, and here the performance takes flight, with playful, almost laughing figuration from the first violin, and cheeky sliding gestures from all the string players. To add to the joyful sense of occasion, Nanako Aramaki joins in with castanets, and the energy rises to a spirited conclusion with lots of string tremolo and guitar strumming. A fun end to a very enjoyable disc, full of refreshing and sprightly-performed repertoire. 

 

Various. 2020. Fandango! Music for Solo Guitar and String Quartet. Johan Löfving, Consone Quartet, Nanako Aramaki. Compact Disc. Resonus RES10260.

The Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble (pianists Natalie Tsaldarakis and Panayotis Archontides) and composers Hugh Shrapnel (b.1947) and John Lewis (b.1947) were completely unknown to me, so their new disc, Elements of London, combining movements from two collections by the composers, was a total voyage of discovery. Lewis’ pieces (Elements) are all inspired and named after chemical elements, whilst Shrapnel’s (London) are all associated with people, places and even politics of South London – hence the combined title of the disc – and they are mixed together to form an overall programme. Despite their differing inspirations, the pieces fit together remarkably well, with influences of minimalism, jazz and blues cropping up throughout. Lewis makes use of insistent rhythmic repeated chords in Niobium, and minimalist influence is most evident in Mercury and Phosphorus. Yet there are Latin-infused rhythms in Chlorine, and hints of Shostakovich in the gently romping Cerium. Shrapnel’s pieces are more overtly expressive, such as the atmospheric Ladywell Station (surely quoting Misty) with its background train whistles, and the plaintive, lamenting In Memoriam Jane Clouson. Dad’s Army even makes an appearance in Hunt Hunt, a defiant political piece dedicated to the Save the Lewisham Hospital Campaign. The pieces have been sensibly curated here, with energy and drive contrasting with more lyrical and atmospheric movements. Few pieces are longer than five minutes, yet they are surprisingly effective in capturing a mood or energy. Tsaldarakis and Archontides have clearly developed a strong affinity for this music, and a close relationship with the two composers, and their performances are strong throughout, contrasting well the thicker chordal textures with bright melodies (often in bell-like octaves), and enjoying the jazz-infused melodies. A very enjoyable discovery.

Various. 2020. Elements of London. Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR055.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, October 2020)