Anthony Ritchie’s Symphony No 6: love, death and the afterlife

Quiet timpani open Anthony Ritchie’s Symphony No 6 with a sense of foreboding. The first movement, ‘Crisis’, has a poignant melody, called by the composer a “love theme”, immediately striking because it is played by the saxophone, “as if from a lonesome balcony in search of a listener”.  

Instrumental colours are painted on the orchestral canvas – the second theme is floated by the flute above bird-like woodwinds, low strings add to the darkness, and tension is built by syncopated figures from brass and fierce percussion. The key of Eb minor reinforces the sombre character.

Setting out to compose a symphony signals a composer’s intention to create something substantial and often serious-minded. Dunedin-based Ritchie’s last Symphony, his 5th, premiered by the Christchurch Symphony Orchestra in 2020 to mark the city’s return to its Town Hall, was an optimistic, light-hearted work he named Childhood. It was in marked contrast to the anguished emotions of his 4th, dedicated in 2013 to those who had suffered in the Christchurch earthquakes.

Now, for his 6th, those deeper emotions return, as Ritchie reflects on both personal and global events. He worked on his new symphony in 2020 under pandemic lockdown, and continued in 2021, a year in which he underwent emergency surgery and spent some weeks in hospital. The work, he says, explores ideas around love, death, the afterlife, and our relationship to the environment.  He dedicated it to his wife, acknowledging her role in his recovery.

The timbral choice of saxophone is an example of Ritchie’s approach throughout the work. A skilled orchestrator, he uses open, transparent textures, revealing instrumental colours, more often than large, concerted effects for full orchestra. Symphony No 6, premiered by the Dunedin Symphony Orchestra in September, has four movements, following the Classical model.

Composer Anthony Ritchie

…a skilled orchestrator, using open, transparent textures.

Photo credit: Gareth Watkins

‘Crisis’ is followed by a slow movement, ‘Meditation’, again featuring woodwind, including plaintive cor anglais. Melodies curl around each other and minor tonalities prevail, with a hint of folk-tune. Ritchie’s writing for strings is romantic, and he introduces the harp into the dreamy, swirling music. Later in the movement, the flute returns with a lovely chromatic solo, vacillating between tonalities, fragments of melody drifting in an unresolved ending.

The third movement, ‘Spirits’, opens with a lovely, watery dawn chorus, the tessitura high with flutes and piccolos above and harp, celeste and tuned percussion below. Low string effects contrast dramatically with the sprightly birds, and, with minor tonality and fierce brass and percussion, the sky darkens as the avian burblings become agitated and urgent. Again, Ritchie’s sure orchestration is evident, with texture and dynamics building to the full force of the orchestral ensemble. Insistent piccolo and other winds emerge, harp swirls below, and the saxophone love theme returns to link to the fourth and final movement, ‘Grieving’.

Often the last movement of a symphony is the most musically direct. Ritchie’s approach seems to follow that convention, with folk-like simplicity, quasi-canonic writing and a more tonal language, sometimes subtly reminiscent of earlier New Zealand orchestral composers. But a powerful sense of grief and the use of a “death chord”, as the composer describes it, creates a conclusion far from the bright, extrovert symphonic resolution audiences expect. Weaving a darkly colourful texture, the movement fades quietly, ending with the death chord on harp.

The album, released a month before the live Dunedin premiere, is of a performance by the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, and beautiful solo work is just one of the pleasures of the fine interpretation, conducted by Principal Conductor-in-Residence, Hamish McKeich.

The NZSO also performs the short work by Ritchie that completes the album, Underwater Music. The title is, he says, an ironic nod to Handel’s Water Music, but there the similarity ends. In three movements, called ‘Seahorses’, ‘Stingrays’ and ‘Dolphins’, Ritchie captures the qualities of these underwater creatures in a charming, playful piece that’s been performed often since its premiere in 1994. The first and third movements have the child-like quality he returned to in his 5th Symphony, a baby dolphin’s cheeky spout a final illustrative gesture.

Anthony Ritchie’s Symphony No 6, New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, Hamish McKeich (conductor) Rattle (purchase link here).