There is a line of thought, at least in his own country, that Elliott Carter's music has gone through a tidal change in the last ten years; that he had finally given up on his crusade to demand Olympian feats of mental and aural skill to enjoy his music, that he had begun to give way – if only a little – to the trend toward simplicity that started with the neo-tonality of the late 1970s and the neo-Romanticism of the 1980s. In essence, that his music had finally become expressive in the traditional sense. Yet there has been no such sea change; instead we have witnessed the careful, focussed growth of the imagination and intellect of a musical giant.

The American symphonic output of the 20th century is still, for the vast majority of the music-loving public, a largely unexplored territory. Although in the past few years there has been some renewal of interest in this area of modern music, we remain in ignorance of some of its most characteristic composers. None more so than Roy Harris (1898–1979), whose birth centenary fell on 12 February this year and who used often to be described as America's leading symphonist. Certainly his Third Symphony is one of the few internationally recognized American works in the genre, yet most of the rest of his works remain virtually unknown, even in the USA.

During the 20 years that followed the completion of his first vocal work, The sayings of Páter Boniemisza op.7 (1963–68), György Kurtág established himself as a composer with an exceptional aptitude for vocal writing. His compositions for voice outweigh those for instruments alone in both quantity and substance throughout this period, during which his second string quartet, Hommage à Mihály András (12 Microludes) op. 13 (1977), is a ravishingly beautiful anomaly.

Bleak House Farm lies down a muddy track which leads off Heslington Lane, quite close to York's main golf course and a stone's throw from the grey concrete campus of the university. Here, in 1969, in a field more often than not unapproachable without Wellington boots, stood a dilapidated modern caravan just big enough for the occupant and his eight cats. The occupant, who kept halfcopied transparencies of music by himself and his teacher rolled up under the bed, was Vic Hoyland. His motive for such an existence was neither masochism nor romantic self indulgence, but extreme hardship. The cats – all related by vigorous in-breeding – had short legs and voracious appetites.

• Munich: Reich's ‘Hindenburg’ Graham Lock

• Cleveland: Ives's ‘Emerson’ Concerto Richard Tiedman

• London: ‘Exody’ at the Proms Robert Stein

• Tokyo: 1998 Suntory Festival Colin Matthews

• Mexico City Quartet David J. Brown

• Dresden: Mathias Pintscher's ‘Thomas Chatterton’ Michael Töpel

• Donaueschingen: 1998 Music Days Christoph Schlüren

• Oxford: Jonathan Dove's ‘Flight’ Raymond Head

• King's College: Anton Lukoszevieze Nicolas Hodges

• Morton Feldman Round-Up John Warnaby

• Recent Roberto Gerhard releases Antony Bye

• Howard Skempton à la mode Peter Palmer

• C. Newman's ‘Compassion’ Mark Taylor

• Somervell Songs Mark Cromar

• Reger and Schoeck Peter Palmer

• Wilfrid Mellers Between Worlds Geoffrey Alvarez

• Ernest Ansermet on Music Peter Palmer

Julian Silverman's article ‘Only a Composer’ (No.206, pp.21–28) went to press just too late for him to incorporate some significant revisions, of which the most important was a rewriting and expansion of the text on p.28 beginning ‘He shares a centenary …’ and continuing as far as the name ‘Hermann Scherchen’.