Much paper has been inked furthering the views of the controversy surrounding Charles Melda's work, the proposed national anthem
Pulias, Rise Like a Phoenix. But I am not here to write about that; I think that has been covered more than enough elsewhere by people far more qualified to comment than I.
I am here to review the musical merits of the work as divorced from the political debate. I was fortunate enough that Mister Melda agreed to meet with me for an interview; given the circumstances I'm not sure I would be so eager to have any contact with the press if I were in his shoes at present.
For those who have not yet heard the piece, it begins with a brass fanfare which builds into a larger version of the fanfare with the entire military ensemble. Flute trills fly overhead and it is really quite excited. The piece then settles into a lightly understated iteration of what will soon become apparent as the main theme, interplayed between lightly duelling trombones and horns. Flutes and tinkling concert bells join in before the arrival of trumpets heralds the main thrust of the piece, at which point the entire military band joins in and the main theme is stated proudly and unmistakably. The lyrics of the proposed anthem can almost be heard even when listening to just the music without the accompanying singing. The piece then moves through various other stages, trying out new variations of the melodic lines and different orchestration arrangements within the ensemble. An understated but sprightly duet of the main theme between bassoon and clarinet leads back to the full ensemble with a restatement of the main theme as heard earlier. A decidedly playful sounding coda and an almost curt finale.
When I asked Mister Melda to sum up his thoughts about the tenor of the piece, he said it was "unashamedly triumphant and patriotic". I asked if he felt triumph and patriotism was missing from modern Pulias and he surprisingly disagreed. "No, I don't think that at all. But Pulias really has risen from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix of myth. It only seems fair that such a triumph of the people be matched by an equivalent musical work."
"The first minute of the piece isn't really it's strongest, is it?" I asked.
"No," he conceded. "I'll admit it does take a while to really get onto its feet. If it
were ever adopted as anything official, like an anthem, I would perhaps suggest they the introductory sections out completely and get straight to the main section of the piece."
Missteps such as this will probably stop occurring as he matures and grows into an experienced composer.
When I had first learned Mister Melda was working on a piece for military band I was expecting something different, something perhaps more militaristic, which seemed to amuse him. "I don't think I have a militant bone in my body. My father might have an explosive temper at times but he's definitely not a violent man and he would probably disown me if I were!" He laughed but I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.
I asked him about some of the instrumentation choices, particularly a new instrument with which I wasn't previously familiar. "Yes, the instrument you're referring to is the saxophone. It's very new and isn't very widely distributed yet. Pulias is one of the only countries in the world that has one." Its timbre is strange, almost like a squeezed bassoon or clarinet. I asked him about it. "Yes, it does have a more . . . sonically
pungent timbre. It's definitely hard to miss. It looks like a brass instrument but it's not, it's actually a woodwind instrument."
He explained that he was expecting the instrumentation choice, namely that of the saxophone to be controversial in some circles. "I didn't for the life of me imagine
the whole piece would become infamous with controversy." He looked wistful at this, like he was trying to find humour in the situation but coming up short. That this paper had led the charge in the controversy was a point we politely ignored during our interview.
I decided to avoid delving further into the political aspect of the piece, and asked about his plans for the future: the experience hadn't caused him to abandon his career prospects in music, had it? "No," he assured me. "In fact, it's given me ideas for new works." He refused to give any further details, though, only saying that his experiences in life often fed into the music he produced.
If the twenty-five year old composer were to turn the maelstrom of politics surrounding his proposed anthem into a sonic form, I shudder to think of what dissonance it would surely yield!
So my verdict: divorced from the political entanglements I think
Pulias, Rise Like a Phoenix is a perfectly serviceable piece for military band. I don't yet feel we've reached a mature phase in his works, but this is definitely the most harmonically and orchestrationally complex work he's produced to date. If he can create works for such large ensembles at so young an age I look forward to seeing what he can do with ever larger ensembles! If you get a chance to hear this work I recommend you do so. And I suggest you forget about the political quagmire with which it is involved, and simply enjoy it on its musical merits, which are many, especially if you can make it through an admittedly last-lustre introductory minute.
Portrait of Charles Melda, composer (1830)