This month’s Composer’s Choice is… A pentatonic journey through the seasons and back again. A cyclic soundscape invoking nature spirits. Atmospheric changes: light through mist, light through forest canopies, creatures echo and drums unfold. Drums are the sounds that humans make. I see an ancient pathway taking us through a series of brilliant ecosystems: water, sky, rainforest, plain, craggy cliffs and rivers. We all have a very deep memory inside our cells that’s still connected to nature. Its a universal thing and “Song For A Green Man” was made to invoke this connection. You will find the green man everywhere throughout Europe. Faces of a man, sometimes scary-funny, sometimes benign and bi-gendered, found carved all over churches and graves and grottoes and rocks and trees, anywhere a strong message can be sent to remind the observer, a mirror to ourselves via art, that we are the green man – that we are born from nature and that we are directly tied to the fate and fabric of the world. Some folk think the Green Man represents a male counterpart to Gaia – a figure which has appeared throughout history in almost all cultures. In the 16th century church at St-BertrandSong For A Green Man – by Stephen Fearnley
Portals Opening – by Stephen Fearnley
I think the first time I became aware of the idea of opening portals was probably somewhere in the early 1960’s, glued to the old black and white TV watching “The Time Tunnel”, “Star Trek” and “Dr Who”. The process of opening portals was something that was initiated by some high tech device that one slipped through, usually arriving in another place or time… I couldn’t get enough of it: I wanted to be Dr Who (Patrick Troughton), Spock and Dr. Tony Newman (James Darren from “The Time Tunnel”) all rolled into one. Then one day when I was 7, I slipped into another reality without the aid of TV or any high tech. I was sick at the time and was lifted out of my body, up above my bed, by an engulfing light which was accompanied by a soothing voice that reassured me that everything was OK. I was gently placed back on my bed feeling better. In retrospect, I could say it was a fever dream – but since then I have had this experience, and heard the same calming voice, on numerous occasions quite often during meditation. I have had a lot ‘high strangeness’ in myPortals Opening – by Stephen Fearnley
Horizon Dreaming – by Stephen Fearnley
“Now, bring me that horizon.” – Captain Jack Sparrow December’s Composer’s Choice selection, “Horizon Dreaming” is all about the journey. Like Jack Sparrow’s quote, he seeks to be engulfed in endless space, no landfall. All distance, timelessness, boundless and unfettered. I get this feeling when I drift into sleep. I certainly get it when meditating. This music is a meditation in itself. Another image also came to mind whilst composing “Horizon Dreaming”: When I first taught myself to meditate at the age of 15 , I would imagine myself on a raft, bathed in sunshine, floating safely down river to the ocean. This river had no sides, everywhere a horizon. And I was safe. No crocodiles and unexpected waterfalls – a big wide amazon of gentle movement, set-adrift and trusting. This of course brings up “surrender” …or as I prefer to see it “ non-resistance”. Something that Jack Sparrow also knows a lot about: “Now, bring me that horizon” clearly states that an adventure can certainly be had with the unknown. Even Jack’s compass is not stuck to true north. Jack’s compass has supernatural qualities. It can’t be used to navigate in a conventional sense, but directs the owner toHorizon Dreaming – by Stephen Fearnley
Playing The Heart Drum – by Stephen Fearnley
The music I’ve called “Heart Drum” came about as an exploration into my ancestors, namely the side of my family where I get the name Fearnley. The making of this music was primarily a journey into myself to connect with two people in particular – my lovely father Jim and his mum, my beloved grandmother, Theresa. Both these people were all heart. They simply LOVED, unconditionally. Deep, deep beauty – the honest heart, the unguarded innocent and the unwavering friend. By making this music, I connect with them and say hello. It’s an invocation as well as a gift of love I send them. It’s a bridge where we can both cross and meet halfway. I’ve always liked the idea of ancestors – that we can connect with them, ask for help, ask for advice, have a chat. But in western culture it’s seen as superstitious even though the pre-christian era European had a similar and intense relationship with their ancestors – much like the Chinese do today, an age-old sensibility and practice which simply hasn’t gone away… I also see ancestor connection as a way of sourcing information – activating pockets of memory within us that have come throughPlaying The Heart Drum – by Stephen Fearnley