Strathclyde Suite, Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow, 20 January 2008

Gavin Marwick

GAVIN MARWICK is a modest bloke. An honest, hard-working fiddle player from Edinburgh, since the late ’80s Marwick has played in more bands – and performed in more countries – than Norway has trees. Back then, he was part of The Iron Horse, a pivotal band in the resurgence of contemporary folk music; today there might not be as many hairs on his head as there once was, but he can still be seen playing with folk orchestra The Unusual Suspects, turbo ceilidh outfit Ceilidh Minogue, or his own group, Bellvue Rendevous. He’s also an underrated composer.

With a vast array of experience under his belt, and with a mountainous amount of tunes in his head, it’s little wonder Marwick was selected for Celtic Connections’ ambitious commissioning programme, New Voices. A unique concept where chosen musicians are given carte blanche to perform new, ambitious work in front of a receptive and encouraging audience.

A false start at the beginning of the performace cajoled Marwick into uttering Hannibal Smith’s (from TV’s A-Team) famous catchphrase, “I love it when a plan comes together.” However, it was the only blip in an otherwise confident and engaging performance – Marwick laying down his aural patchwork quilt (aptly titled Journeyman) in almost exactly an hour without any stops.

Strathspeys and jigs early on reflected Marwick’s formative years on the folk scene, before Cajun and Arabic-flavoured material symbolised his far-flung adventures across Asia and Africa. The latter, incidentally, enhanced by what appeared to be a kaval – an end-blown flute from Bulgaria – played by multi-instrumentalist Fraser Fifield.

Pals Cameron Robson (bouzouki) and Ruth Morris (nyckelharpa) from Bellvue Rendezvous added stability to allow Marwick to take on many of his mazy fiddle runs, allowing the more cutting edge material to creep in halfway through. And occasionally Marwick even got the chance to stop and listen to his work. But it was brief, and like the dynamics of his entire piece, Marwick bobbed up and down in his seat like one of those toy animals often found in the back of peoples’ cars nodding its head hypnotically.

Then it was over. As the last notes of Journeyman echoed all round the Strathclyde Suite, you got the feeling this was just as satisfying for Marwick as it was for the audience; a charming display that, while never jaw-droppingly amazing, suitably showcased one of folk music’s most consistent and contented performers. We wish him well.

© Barry Gordon, 2008

Links

• Celtic Connections