John Downey is an American composer whose music may be politely described as eclectic. Stylistically split off from both the post-Cage avant-garde and the minimalists, he has only recently gained much exposure. Now he has been given a four-day festival at various London venues; whether he deserves it is another matter.

Downey's style is a combination of Hippie-Romantic and early modernist, in which influences loom large to the point where much of his music sounds derivative. An ominous note was struck from the off with a pre-concert foyer performance by the Trinity College Flute Ensemble of High Clouds and Soft Rain, a piece for 24 flautists, its slow, squelchy chords sounding like Neptune from The Planets crossed with the opening of the second part of The Rite of Spring.

Thereafter, the pounding rhythms and eerie sonorities of Stravinsky's masterpiece hung like leaden weights over the evening's main Philharmonia concert. So did the swirling flourishes of Bartok's Miraculous Mandarin, while one can also detect whiffs of Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet in Downey's fondness for sustained brass chords swelling to colossal climaxes.

Jazz also features in the spectrum of Downey's influences, dominating the central Allegretto of his most original piece, the Double Bass Concerto, written for Gary Karr. Karr's ferocious energy as a performer, heard in the driving finale, impresses less than his lyrical playing, which Downey exploits in the opening slow movement.

The Edge of Space is another concerto for a low instrument, a bassoon this time, in which the soloist's almost baroque recitative interweaves with yet more of the Mystic Circles from Stravinsky's Rite. The five Symphonic Modules, for a colossal orchestra, link colour with shape and are also desperately uneven.

The Philharmonia, conducted by Geoffrey Simon, played it all with tremendous verve. Downey got a standing ovation - but if this marks the birth of a cult, count me out.