University of York Music Press

At the age of only 30, Paul is making a striking impact with his music, which seamlessly blends new modernism and romantic impressionism with an intoxicating sense of drama. As Lecturer in Music at Aberdeen University, visiting Professor at New York University, director of the Northop Festival and with performances happening all over the world, Paul Mealor found some time to talk to Philip Venables about his recent work.

PV: Unlike some composers who arrive at the profession a little later in life, you seem to have started on that path very early. What made you want to be a composer, and what inspires you to keep writing now?

PM: I think I was about nine when I decided I wanted to be a composer. I remember hearing Mahler's Second Symphony and realising that music can create whole worlds, universes if you like. I had heard nothing like it before. He seemed to capture everything in his music - the good and the bad. Mahler has been a strong influence on me for many years. Of course I tried to compose huge symphonies; however, they never got finished... it's hard to finish a symphony when you're only nine! The question as to why I keep composing is perhaps more difficult to answer. I suppose I am searching, if you like, to try and find my own equivalent to the energy and dynamism in Mahler.

PV: I have been struck by the variety in your sound world from piece to piece. Does this reflect a changing voice or just different approaches to different pieces?

PM: I've always thought that there are two main types of composer - those that compose the same piece (or strive to explore the same aspects) in each work and those who compose a completely new piece every time they write. I belong to the latter. For me, even if I plan every aspect of the work, as soon as I write down two notes, they have their own life, their own questions that demand some sort of answer. Even though each work explores many different aspects they are all bound by one main concern; an exploration of drama (both musical and theatrical). A focus on drama is crucial for me as a composer -I suppose if I hadn't been a composer I might have been a playwright or even an actor.

PV: Listening to your music, I seem to pick out a range of ideas that you draw on, from expressionism (e.g. Elegy for a Play of Shadows) to classicism (e.g. the romantic string writing in Borderlands) to the very dramatic, almost Berg- or Shostakovich-like writing in Rising of the Sixfold Sun. Do you feel these influences actively, or are they lurking in the background as reminiscences of your own tastes as a listener?

PM: I have very wide-ranging listening tastes - from Beethoven and Ligeti to the Beatles and country and western. I'm fascinated by organised sound; I'm sure these interests surface in different pieces and in different ways; though I don't think country and western has found its way in yet.

PV: You use text a lot as a starting point, even for instrumental works. You have mentioned writings by C. S. Lewis, Shelley, W. B. Yeats and Greek mythology as backgrounds to your pieces. I wondered how you relate to these texts and what role they play in the music. Do you often use a narrative or dramatic form in your works?

PM: I suppose the interest in text also links in with my fascination with drama. In Echo (for solo percussion) for example, the story of Narcissus and Echo becomes the structure for the whole work; Echo fell in love with the beautiful youth, Narcissus. When he repulsed her, caring for no-one's love, she caused him to fall in love with his own reflection. He, longing for this image, was changed into the flower that bears his name. She, regretting what she had done, pined away until only her voice remained. So, the piece begins with both percussion and voice and, as the piece progresses, the voice takes over until, 'only the voice remains'. Other works are much less specific than this, but text (especially poetry) is crucial for me when I compose. Nearly everything I have written has been inspired by literature.

PV: I find your use of harmony fascinating. It is functional and yet seems to avoid the clichés of others' attempts to cadence in the 20th and 21st Centuries. It sweeps from almost 12-tone-esque in Rising of the Sixfold Sun to highly impressionist and, presumably, intuitive in Till Time Shall Cease. It always sounds extremely effective, so I wondered - what is your secret?

PM: That's a difficult question to answer. Of course I could tell you the techniques that I employ, such as using the Fibonacci sequence harmonically, using ancient Druidic numbers alongside notes; but often it is my ear that decides things. I've never been tied down to systems. If it doesn't sound correct to your ear, even if the system says otherwise, change it!

PV: You're very busy; composing, teaching at Aberdeen, directing the Northop Festival, organising the Aberdeen Composition Prize, your Visiting Professorship at New York University. How do these feed into each other?

PM: It is quite surprising that they do all feed into each other. When teaching composition I often learn from my students as well as teach. Organising festivals and prizes also gives one the chance to engage with other composers, performers and listeners in a different way than to when one is having a piece played. So, all of these activities are crucial for my artistic well being.

PV: What projects do you dream about doing in the future?

PM: I have always wanted to write a symphony. Symphonies from Mozart to Maxwell Davies have been important to me for as long as I can remember. I suppose it is because the symphony is not a form, but a way of thinking about music. Also, the symphony would lend itself to my dramatic interests. I have already begun sketching, so watch this space...