Half a century ago, on Wednesday
9 July 1969, Lennox Berkeley’s Symphony No. 3 in One Movement, op.74 was
premiered at that year’s Cheltenham Festival. Other works heard at this concert
included Albert Roussel’s Piano Concerto (1927) with soloist Claude Helffer and
Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique (1830). Jean Martinon conducted the
Orchestre national de l'Office de radiodiffusion-télévision française (now
Orchestre national de France). The event was attended by the Princess Alice,
Duchess of Gloucester and several local dignities.
This essay will put the Symphony
into context, as well as examining the contemporary critical response. It will
concentrate on the premiere. This is neither a technical analysis nor a
programme note. In a future essay, I
would like to explore the 1973 Promenade Concert performance, as well as the
reception of the two subsequent recordings.
On 1 July 1969, the Investiture
of Prince Charles as Prince of Wales had taken place at Caernarvon. Three days
later Ann Jones, the home favourite, won the Ladies’ Singles at Wimbledon. Her
opponent was Billie Jean King. Neil Armstrong became the first ‘man on the
moon’ as part of the Apollo 11 space programme on 21 July.
The Daily Telegraph (10 July 1969), reporting the news for 9 July noted
that ‘higher rail fares likely’, a threat of rail strikes on British Rail’s
Southern Region and parliamentary ‘trouble’ over the ‘Redistribution of Seats
Bill’. Top of the single charts was
Thunderclap Newman’s ‘Something in the Air.’ The Number One album was Jim
Reeves ‘According to my Heart.’ Competing
with the live BBC Radio 3 broadcast of the Cheltenham concert, were The Good Old Days on BBC1 and Coronation Street on ITV.
Genesis
Stewart Craggs (2000, p.34) notes
that Berkeley began his Symphony No.3 during December 1968, and, completed it in
April 1969. Other works composed around this time include the Windsor
Variations, op.75 (1969) commissioned by the Windsor Festival Society. This has
not been issued on record or CD, although a recording of a radio broadcast
circulates amongst enthusiasts.
During April and May 1969,
Berkeley had been on an extended visit to Paris, Monte Carlo and Toulouse. In
the early months of the year, he wrote his first setting of ‘Ubi Caritas et
Amor.’ A second would follow in 1980. The previous year had seen the completion of the
Magnificat, op.71 (1968), the premiere of the Oboe Quartet, op.70 (1967) and the
song ‘Automne’, op.60, no.3 (1963). Towards the end of 1968, Berkeley finalised
his Theme and Variations for piano-duet, op.73. All these have received at
least a single recording, although they can hardly be described as in the
general ‘classical’ repertoire. Berkeley also wrote the unaccompanied choral
piece ‘The Windhover: To Christ our Lord’, op.72, no.2 (1968). There was the
London premiere of the choral piece ‘Signs in the Dark’, op.69 (1967) which awaits
a commercial recording.
The Symphony No.3 was dedicated
to Anthony and Lili Hornby. Anthony was a stock-broker and art collector and
Lili was a dancer (Powell, 1995, p.224). The miniature score was published in
1971, by J & W Chester, priced £2.50.
Reception
The main critical contention of
the Symphony No.3 is its concentration of material and the subtle balance
between aggression and introspection. This work is far removed from the
expansive First (1940) and Fourth Symphonies (1978). The utilisation of
Berkeley’s own version of serialism has given it ‘a greater urgency without
sacrificing [its] lyrical qualities.’ (Dickinson, Peter, Lyrita SRCD.226 liner
note). As cited in Tony Scotland’s Lennox
and Freda (2010, p.431) Berkeley regarded serialism as ‘useful as a means
of developing musical ideas.’
Before the concert, Michael
Berkeley contributed a detailed discussion of the Symphony No.3 to The Listener (3 July 1969). Berkeley
(fils) puts his father’s new work into context. The Symphony still ‘carries the
marks of a style that is intricate and subtle, rather than grand or declamatory...’
Contrariwise, there is no resemblance, either formally or stylistically, to the
Symphonies No.1 and No.2. The present work is characterised by ‘a broadening of
the emotional range,’ and ‘a stricter economy of material’ which was first seen
in the one-act opera Castaway (1967).
It is striking for the use of thematic development prevalent in that work. In like manner, the ‘adventurous and
striking’ scoring was apparent in the Magnificat
(1968). Although Debussy, Fauré, Ravel and Poulenc are in ‘evidence’ in
Berkeley’s music, it has been ‘severely censured, and directed into a private
channel that now, more than ever, has its own individuality.’ It has become a
‘very personal’ style which is never ‘sensational.’ The remainder of the article was largely redrafted
into the premiere’s programme notes.
The Birmingham Post (11 July 1969) reviewer K.W. Dommett reported that
Berkeley’s Symphony in One Movement ‘is a model of clarity of the kind commonly
associated with the other side of the channel.’ This repeats the commonly held
view that Berkeley is a Francophone composer. On the other hand, he is inclined
to believe that it has ‘a quiet, distinctive Englishness’ which is difficult to
define. Dommett picks up on the monothematic construction of the Symphony and
reiterates the programme notes’ statement that the material for all three
sections of the work is derived from the ‘triadic motto heard at the outset.’ This
is based on six notes from the chords D minor and B major. This critic feels that Berkeley’s
‘manipulation of this material is most ingenious, and the scoring is felicitous
throughout.’ Yet, there is a down side: ‘the final impression is of a polite
dissertation delivered in impeccable style, but without much inner conviction.’
An example of this disinterestedness is noted in the slow middle section, where
‘the succession of ascending and descending figures fails to generate any real
tension, or to convey any true sense of inevitability.’ In contradistinction to
Dommett, I find this ‘section’ one of the most magical parts of the whole
Symphony.
The Guardian gave two reviews of the Lennox Berkeley premiere. Edward
Greenfield (10 July 1969) began by noting the ‘sterling work’ done by the
Cheltenham Festival in commissioning new symphonies from British composers. He
understands that Berkeley’s Symphony stands in the Cheltenham Tradition and is
‘highly professional’ albeit having a ‘safe’ approach to formal structure. He
suggests that it was written with French orchestral players in mind, hence the
‘strong and dramatic first performance’ under the baton of Jean Martinon.
Greenfield felt that the Symphony was actually ‘more refined and French
sounding’ than the Roussel Piano Concerto. Berkeley’s ‘lessons’ with Nadia
Boulanger were ‘well learnt.’
I think that this is a fair
assessment. I disagree with his assertion that the slow middle section ‘is
disappointingly lacking in rhythmic interest’: this sounds ‘impressionistic,’
and most contributes to the undeniable Gallic mood.
Peter Heyworth (The Guardian 13 July 1969) gave an overview
of the recent Cheltenham Festival. Commenting on Berkeley’s Third Symphony, he
remarked that the composer ‘uses the well-tried device of a single movement
that embraces three sharply defined sub-movements…[and] does so with undeniable
mastery.’ It produces a work where ‘the argument is unfailingly coherent; the
sound is full and lucid and nicely varied.’ On the other hand, Heyworth wonders
if the Symphony ‘seem[s] to emerge from pre-packaged formulas’ generated over a
150-year period. Berkeley’s ‘take’ on this tradition is to create a piece that
‘is a well-turned piece of precision machinery.’ In his view, this contrasts
with Peter Maxwell Davies’s ‘harsh, angular and sometimes awkward…attempt to
take possession of a new world of feeling and experience…’ in his remarkable St. Thomas Wake, foxtrot for orchestra on a
pavan by John Bull, J. 78.
Martin Cooper (The Daily Telegraph, 10 July 1969)
understands that Berkeley has created a symphony that upholds many of the
traditions of ‘strict intellectual coherence and fundamental unity…that mark
symphonic thinking.’ Like all the critics, he has read Michael Berkeley’s
programme note. Cooper notes ‘the clash of tonalities in the opening bars is
effectively the works germ or motto’ which is often reprised either explicitly
or ‘lightly disguised.’ He recalls ‘openly lyrical sections’ such as the 5/8 ‘meno
vivo’ which is introduced by three flutes...’ This is a ‘happy…memory of a
French musical upbringing.’ Another lyrical moment is the ‘full-throated Lento
with its contrast of woodwind and divided strings…’ Cooper’s only censure
refers to the ‘excessive reliance on two-bar (question and answer) structures’
in the final Allegro. This, he feels, is ‘another legacy from the French school
and more remotely from the Russians.’ The performance under Jean Martinon was
‘boldly eloquent and well-nuanced.’
After reviewing Alun Hoddinott’s
‘succinct and closely woven’ Sinfonietta No.2, op.67 (1969) Robert Henderson Musical Times (September 1969) reported
that:
‘Perhaps even
more compact and economical [than the Hoddinott] was the…specially commissioned
Symphony in one movement of Lennox Berkeley.
Again, its three interlocking sections are each vividly defined in mood
and colour but create a firm sense of inner coherence. For all three are based
on the same simple conflict between one major and one minor triad, a conflict
that is treated with considerable variety and resource, but with a deliberate
concentration of thought and a typically Gallic lucidity of texture and expression.’
It seems that this ‘Gallic’
connection is always brought to the fore.
Henderson added that Berkeley’s Symphony ‘sounded amiable, optimistic in
tone and even rather benign in the presence of Peter Maxwell Davies's
challenging and much more pessimistic St Thomas Wake.’
Kenneth Dommett (see above) also
contributed a review to the now lamented Music
and Musicians (September 1969) where he reported that of all the ‘novelties’
presented at the Festival, the Berkeley ‘remains freshest in the memory.’ This
is because of ‘the assurance of its workmanship and the skill with which the
composer manipulated his two basic triads and constructed from them a symphonic
movement that, apart from the attenuations [weakening] of the slow middle
section, was concisely argued.’ Alas, Dommett’s final comment seemed to go
against what he had already said: it has ‘somehow failed to carry conviction is
its principal source of failure - although that is a relative term.’ Nevertheless,
it remains the only Symphony from 1969 that remains (tentatively) in the repertoire.
Finally, E.M. Webster (Musical Opinion, September 1969) was
enthused by the new Symphony. He reminded the reader that the concert on
Wednesday 9 July ‘was largely a French evening’, and that ‘it was a gala
occasion with royalty and civic dignitaries present...’ Webster felt that the
music ‘was suitably sparkling.’ Turning to the Berkeley premiere, he began by
suggesting that ‘one has come to regard Berkeley as a composer of gentle
etchings and sly pastiche.’ However, this symphony reveals him in ‘stronger
mood’ and ‘at last he permits certain fierce emotional impetus to dominate his
tightly-conceived construction.’ It is ‘much tougher and more forthright…than
is usual from this composer’s sensitive pen.’
Webster picks up on one of the
key attributes of the Symphony. Despite the ‘six-note series’, the ‘argument
progresses towards traditional tonality rather than away from it.’ He describes
its progress:
‘After a sharp,
clear cut opening statement, the conflict builds up to a restless, unresolved
tension (with warring major and minor chording) and leads into a contrapuntal
slow section in which there is some poignant and deep-centred lyric feeling.
The third section is brought in by a massive orchestral exclamation and some
swift excitable string scurries punctuated by fierce, orchestral tutti chords.
But here the impetus unexpectedly slackens, and the orchestration becomes a
trifle diffuse and fussy. However, a powerful climax ensues which brings back
some of the strength that was lost, and the work ends with a fairly obvious and
cheerful reconciliation.’
Webster reports that the French
orchestra ‘had clearly taken trouble over [the Symphony] so that it came over
clear and strong.’
In conclusion, a few years ago
(27 November 1990) in an interview with Peter Dickinson (2012, p.266) Michael
Berkeley stated: ‘…the Third Symphony is very powerful because it’s muscular
and taut. At that time, I was working a little bit with him and I can remember
trying to tempt him to push out even further. I suggested the side-drum rim
shot [a drum stroke in which the stick strikes the rim and the head of the drum
simultaneously] on the last chord.’
It makes an effective ‘coda’ to
an absorbing symphony.
Bibliography:
Craggs, Stewart R., Lennox Berkeley: A Source Book (Ashgate,
Aldershot, 2000)
Dickinson, Peter, The Music of Lennox Berkeley (The
Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 1988/2003)
Ed. Dickinson, Peter, Lennox Berkeley and Friends: Writings
Letters and Interviews (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 2012)
Powell, Anthony, Journal 1982-1986 (Heinemann, London,
1995)
Scotland, Tony, Lennox and Freda, (Michael Russell,
Norwich, 2010)
The files of Birmingham Post, Daily
Telegraph, The Guardian, Music and Musicians, Musical Opinion, The Musical
Times, The Listener, The Radio Times, The Times.
Dickinson, Peter, Liner Notes for
Lyrita, SRCD 226
Discography:
Lennox Berkeley: Symphony No 3 in one movement, op 74,
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Lennox Berkeley/ (includes Elizabeth Maconchy’s
Proud Thames Overture, Geoffrey Bush’s Music (1967) for orchestra and William
Alwyn’s Four Elizabethan Dances, from the set of six) Lyrita SRCS.57 (LP)
(1972). Symphony reissued on CD Lyrita SRCD.226 (1992)
Lennox Berkeley: Symphony No 3 in one movement, op 74 BBC
National Orchestra of Wales/Richard Hickox (includes Sinfonia Concertante and Michael
Berkeley: Oboe Concerto and Secret Garden) Chandos CHAN 10022 (2002)
Appendix 1
Listed here are works
commissioned or premiered at the 1969 Cheltenham Festival. Some of these have
been recorded and others can be found (accessed January 2019) on YouTube. Apart from Berkeley’s Symphony
and Peter Maxwell Davies’s St. Thomas
Wake, foxtrot none seem to have established more than a toe-hold in the
repertoire half a century later. Several have simply disappeared.
Lennox Berkeley:
Three Pieces for organ, op.72 no.1 (first complete performance)
Lennox Berkeley:
Symphony No.3 in one movement, op.74 (Festival Commission)
André Boucourechliev:
Archipel II for string quartet (British Premiere)
Brian Brockless:
Fantasia, Adagio and Fugue for organ (Commissioned by Sir Arthur Bliss)
Alan Bush: Time
Remembered, op.67
Tristram Cary: Continuum
(Festival Commission)
David Cox: Out of
Doors, for a cappella choir
Peter Maxwell Davies:
St Thomas Wake- Foxtrot for orchestra (British Premiere)
Jonathan Harvey:
Laus Deo, for organ
Alun Hoddinott:
Sinfonietta no.2, op.67 (Festival Commission)
Heinz Holliger:
Mobile for oboe and harp (British Premiere)
Gordon Jacob
Suite for bassoon and string quartet
Andre Jolivet:
Controversia for oboe and harp (British Premiere)
Daniel Jones: The
Ballad of the Standard Bearer, for tenor and piano
John Metcalf:
Chorales and Variants (Festival Commission)
Jiri Smutny: Two
Pieces for oboe and harp
Christopher Steel:
Anthem 'O Praise the Lord of Heaven' (Special Commission)
Karlheinz Stockhausen:
Spiral, for oboe and radio (British Premiere)
Appendix 2
Most commentators assumed that by
1969 the Symphony would have been dead. It would have been replaced by free-form
works as promulgated by the leading composers of the avant-garde.
In fact, the year 1969 saw at
least 10 British, Commonwealth or Émigré symphonies composed, completed or
performed:
Benjamin Frankel: Symphony No.5
David Barlow: Symphony No.2
Wilfred Joseph: Symphony No.3, op.59 ‘Philadelphia’
Roberto Gerhard: Chamber Symphony ‘Leo’
Alun Hoddinott: Symphony No.4, op.70
George Lloyd: Symphony No.9 (premiere Manchester, Dec 1982)
Raymond Warren: Symphony No.2
Malcolm Williamson: Symphony No.2
Oliver Knussen: Symphony in One Movement (revised 2002)
Lennox Berkeley: Symphony No.3 in one movement, op 74
It is a sad fact that virtually
all of these have disappeared from the current symphonic repertoire. Fortunately,
about half of them have been recorded.
With thanks to
the Lennox Berkeley Society who first published this essay.
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