This piece was commissioned by my friend Rachel Bolton to commemorate her husband Peter who sadly passed away suddenly in 2011. Peter was a man of many talents: not only was he a fine violinist but also a skilled sailor, and the title refers to a lake in Derbyshire in the UK where he took me sailing one day. As well as playing classical violin, Peter was also a folk musician, and the piece is based on one of his favourite folk melodies, a tune entitled Ayrshire Lass by another friend of his, Ian Wilson. The piece lasts about 5 minutes. JC

The 2 Preludes can be performed together or separately

This piece commemorates the wonderful violinist David Angel who passed away last year. As well as being renowned and loved as an outstanding chamber musician and teacher, for many years David led the 2nd violins in the Cohen Ensemble. So, for this piece, his chair remains empty throughout, the principal 2nd violinist being heard off-stage only towards the end.

David frequently made a joke of simplifying 1st violin parts so that they could be played more easily by 2nd violinists, sometimes playing them exclusively using open strings. By a strange coincidence, David’s initials (DEA) correspond to the top 3 open strings of the violin and so, almost throughout this piece, the tutti 2nd violins are confined to playing just these three notes.

The piece opens with the principal 1st violin playing a solo incantation which eventually prompts the other instruments – hesitantly at first but then with increasing confidence – to weave a strange Cortège around the weird ostinato open string figure in the 2nd violins. After an impassioned climax, the solo 1st violin tries the incantation again but when the orchestra responds this time, the earlier material has undergone a modal and textural transformation into something more ethereal whilst the open string motive is now played in high harmonics by the unseen principal 2nd violinist.

Jacques Cohen

(I) Scherzo
(II) Nocturne
(III) March

Originally scored for brass band, A Moorside Suite was commissioned as a test piece for the National Brass Band Championships of Great Britain in 1928. It was the composer’s intention that there should also be a version for strings and whilst he did complete one himself, because he simplified it for the Junior String Orchestra at St Paul’s Girls’ School, it is widely agreed that his own string arrangement does not do justice to the majesty of the original composition. I have long felt that the string orchestra repertoire would be enhanced by a version that could stand alongside the St Paul’s and Brook Green Suites. The present arrangement, first performed in a live streamed on line concert by the Cohen Ensemble in London on 1st October 2020, is a modest attempt to produce that. JC

Love Journeys is a setting for soprano and strings of 7 songs from a series of 36 poems by James Joyce (1882-1941) which he entitled Chamber Music. As Joyce’s title implies, the poems abound with musical allusions and evocations that immediately suggest a particular sound world and atmosphere. Joyce’s writing testifies that he had a keen ear and feeling for music and we know that he set at least one of the poems in this collection (not included in this setting) to a very fine melody he composed himself.

The piece follows the progress of a love affair through the spring months starting amid the resplendent Irish countryside and ending out at sea. The first 4 songs deal respectively with the anticipation, uncertainty, awakening and fulfilment of early love. Then after a short, instrumental interlude, the remaining 3 songs deal with darker themes associated with the end of the relationship: love’s absence, loss and transience. The orchestra divides into 20 individual parts throughout so there is a great deal of textural variety, supporting the voice and illustrating the words. This also means that the string ensemble sounds massive for the dramatic moments but can nevertheless also capture the intimacy associated with chamber music – in both the general and specific sense.

The songs are for the most part short, some lasting only a minute or two. At the same time, they are played more or less without a break, climaxing with the nightmarish vision of the penultimate song, and some of the themes (both literary and musical) reappear and develop as the cycle progresses giving the work a one-movement feel as well.

This piece – originally a short, subdued prelude for piano followed by a livelier fugue – was at first written in 2006 to commemorate the centenary of Dmitri Shostakovich. It therefore makes use of that composer’s famous motto theme (DSCH) as well as evoking his enigmatic character. The title is a playful reference to the 48 preludes (and fugues) of Bach whose motto theme (BACH, or in English, B flat, A, C, B natural) also appears but less obviously. Unusually for me, the piece, while intense, is devoid of loud climaxes, which is partly why I felt that its mysterious atmosphere would work particularly well if adapted for vibraphone and strings. I have always loved the subtle, soft-toned sound and character of the vibraphone and, in a world increasingly dominated by loud background music, I thought it would make a nice change to write a quiet piece that demanded to be intently listened to. JC

Yigdal is scored for a string orchestra that divides into a maximum of thirteen parts and lasts about a quarter of an hour.

The composition is in part a personal contemplation of the passions, struggles and troubled history of the Jewish people. The title – a Hebrew word meaning “Magnified” – refers to a hymn which lists the thirteen articles of the Jewish faith and forms a fundamental part of the liturgy. Like Judaism itself, the hymn has somehow endured for centuries, religious Jews having recited it daily in even the direst of circumstances.

There are several tunes for this hymn, the one employed here being generally reserved for use on high holy days. No-one is certain of the exact source of this haunting melody, although its mode – making use of augmented second intervals which sound particularly potent to Western ears – indicates that it probably originated in Eastern Europe.

The piece begins with a drone coloured by mysterious harmonies before the melody is tentatively introduced by the violins. This is combined with a second theme and grows to a climax. In the central part of the piece, the mood becomes increasingly intense as the tonality becomes more uncertain and the harmony more dissonant. In the last part, after the main climax, the atmosphere becomes calmer again. Just before the end, the theme appears in its simplest form, a single violin playing against a shimmering accompaniment, and in spite of the earlier moods of tragedy and turmoil, the piece closes on a note of quiet resolution.

Yigdal was completed in 2006 for the Isis Ensemble which has performed it several times. It has also been performed by several other orchestras including the Yehudi Menuhin Orchestra who took it on their UK and European tours and the Sofia Soloists who broadcast it as well. (JC)

A commercial recording of Yigdal conducted by the composer is available on the Isis Ensemble’s Music for Strings CD, Meridian CDE 84561