behind the notes: Ancient crags to Hiraeth

To celebrate St. David’s Day this year, I thought I would share some cornerstone Welsh concert pieces that have influenced me along the way.

A little Welshy (ca. 1997)

For anyone who has met me, you will immediately figure out my Welshness through the brazenly-lilting tones of my accent from the South Wales Valleys. It is often asked in interviews (or even just in the pub with friends) whether being Welsh has an impact on my music, and I can honestly say that I don’t know. I think the fact that I grew up singing in choirs has certainly made its mark on the way I write music - from solo voice to orchestra. There is definitely an imprint from me being a singer, especially on my melody-making and phrase lengths. But is that specifically Welsh? Perhaps it’s also a bit of a moot point (how can music really be representative of place within the bones of the music itself? It can’t).

But what I do know is that a great deal of music written by composers in Wales has inspired me at different stages of my life.

Welshness all around me

Singing with the National Youth Choir of Wales as a teenager, my eyes (and ears) were opened to a whole load of Welsh music I had not experienced before. When I was a student at Cardiff University, I pumelled the CD collection, listening to anything by Welsh composers and artists - Joseph Parry to Grace Williams, David Wynne to Rhian Samuel. During this time, I sung with Pendyrus Male Voice Choir and toured extensively with them, learning music through this cross-generational, community-led brotherhood, singing trad to specially commissioned works by big, Welsh choral-hitters. For my undergraduate dissertation, I researched a huge amount into how Welsh concert music was spoken about over the twentieth century (indebted to receiving an almost full collection of Cylchgrawn Cerddoriaeth Gymreig [Journal of Welsh Music] from 1959 to 2004, which is an insanely good resource. The ever impressive Ethan Davies has begun the work on digitising this journal at Tŷ Cerdd). Over more recent years, as my work has spread further than ever before, the inspiration for my work turns to my home country of Wales. Whether through the lovely Welsh collaborators and friends I have worked with, the Welsh organsations that have commissioned me or trusted me to create music for them, or my own cultural and social go-to’s as a proud Welshy. My music is continually inspired by my cultural heritage, from the trad song of Glamorgan or Anglesey, the political song of Dafydd Iwan, our poetry, and our shared history (that is celebrated or long-lost).

So, along the way there are bound to be some cornerstone Welsh concert pieces that have influenced me as a composer. Here are a few examples (emphasis on only a few):


Alun Hoddinott’s Landscapes

Hoddinott’s impact on the Welsh musical scene can not be understated. Many of my own teachers and friends (including my music school teacher in Tonyrefail) were taught by him, where he was appointed Professor and Head of the Music Department at University College, Cardiff (now Cardiff University) in 1967. Not only musically prolific, Hoddinott opened the doors at Cardiff to the musical world, with a bus-load of twentieth-century musical giants coming to the city because of Hoddinott. Whilst studying in Cardiff I became obsessed with his output and what he did for Welsh cultural life. If you wanted to find out more about his legacy, I have always found Chris Painter’s writing on Hoddinott the most personal and moving since his passing in 2008.

Landscapes became the central case study for my undergraduate dissertation, a work that that stands tall like the ancient crags of Eryri that inspired it. Athough the dissertation process is like a fever-dream now and sets me in sweats (no, you can’t read it), I am still grateful to have got to know Hoddinott’s music more intimitely throughout this process.

William Mathias’ Piano Concerto No. 2

Many people say that what Hoddinott did in the south, Mathias did in the north (of Wales). It is hard to really decipher which of these composers did more for Wales’ musical life and legacy, as in my eyes and mind, we needed them both. Mathias’ music is receiving a broader ‘public’ reach, with performances of his music (especially choral) still popping up. My music is often paired and compared to Mathias’ (even by his daughter Rhiannon Mathias), which besides it being a massive privilege, has meant that I always come back to Mathias’ music. The choral music sits highly on my list of great ways of writing for voices, but the second Piano Concerto is one of those works that I come back to. For me, it always seems fresh.

Hilary Tann’s Paradise

I met Hilary Tann in the summer of 2008 on a National Youth Choir of Wales residency in Colwyn Bay. I found her so ‘exotic’ - a Welsh-abroad. She spoke in such a open-eyed, inquisitive way, eyes glinting and she looked straight at you. We were working on her choral work, Paradise. I remember us finding it all really difficult to pull together, and as soon as she spoke of each choral colour “opening up like a flower bud in the morning sun”, something clicked. This, I think, was the first time hearing a composer speak about their music in this way. This has always stayed with me:

Mark Bowden’s Lines Written a Few Miles Below

The piece draws on “observations of London commuters and portrays the different ways that intimate or private behaviours, such as sleeping, eating, kissing and arguing, can manifest themselves on public transport”. There’s such an energy to this piece, and was one of the first pieces I had come across of Mark Bowden’s in 2011/12. Who would have thought that two years later I would get to study with him as an inaugural Young Composer with the National Youth Orchestra of Wales, and then spend 9-years working with him on my doctoral research in London (I know - it took ages!) Mark’s musical fingerprint is very much on my work, having been such a close mentor of mine for so long. His music speaks to our shared Welsh heritage. It speaks of a Welshman in London. It speaks of a yearning for more. It’s expansive music. It’s music that carves sculptures out of mountains. His music keeps inspiring things in me, but I can’t help but come back to this work that started that musical friendship.

Catrin Finch’s Celtic Concerto

We all know Catrin Finch as a harpist-extraordinaire. During an evening in 2012, I went to an album launch featuring her playing with Sinfonia Cymru in Acapela Studios in Pentyrch. The highlight of the event was a work titled Celtic Concerto, who I congratulated the featured composer - John Rutter - for. Foot-in-mouth, comes to mind, as he corrected me on my butt-clenching faux-pas, as it was written by Catrin.

It is unashamedly joyous, and made me recognise that “new music can be this as well!” It can move. It can make you smile. It can remind us of long-held, long-loved harmonies, and place them in new contexts that are mashed with trad. Hints towards Hiraeth. Hints towards the cinematic. This is what I love about Catrin, who has in recent years become a friend (having co-directed a series of events in 2023 for Musicfest Aberystwyth), she surprised us all. You think she is one thing, and she shocks you. She is more. She is inspiring. Unashamedly Catrin.

Get listening: Contemporary Wales +

A few years ago I created a playlist of works for a student who was interested in Welsh concert music. A combination of music that I have come across during my childhood to the present day, all written in the twentieth century to the present day. Have a listen:

Have a grumble? This is absolutely not exhaustive, and I am always adding to it. Please drop me a line if there’s something I have obviously missed or I should be listening to. There is also a huge amount of music I listen to away from Spotify, so this is only indicative of what Spotify keeps within its prison.