Ronald Smith: Piano Masterpieces (1960) on Extended Play

In 1963 my late father invested in a radiogram. Up until that point the family made do with the Pye radio and the black and white television set rented from DER (Domestic Electric Rentals). My father was never one to follow trends, but I guess he must have realised that his son was getting to an age when pop music would begin to become relevant. Already, I had been ‘dancing’ to the Beatles at the Cub Christmas Dance. I think the young lady I danced with was called ‘June.’ On the other hand, my father was never one for the latest developments of pop and rock. Clearly, he had heard of the Fab Four and Elvis, but was more comfortable with the crooning of Bing Crosby, the powerful voice of Paul Robeson and the soulful jazz of Ella Fitzgerald.

The new radiogram was put in the sitting room. We rarely ventured in there, except at Christmas or when my parents were entertaining family or friends.

I remember the long, sleek, dark oak box on slim legs that contained the gubbins: Radio (Long and Medium Wave) and record deck. It included an autochanger for stacking records and a switchable stylus for playing old ‘shellac’ discs as well as ‘microgroove’. There were four speeds: 78, 45, 33 and 16 rpm. I guess this latter setting was never to catch on. The speakers were integral. There was an internal space to store about 30 albums, EPs or singles.

And then the first record arrived. My father came home from work one evening and handed my mother a present. Inside the brown paper bag was Ronald Smith’s Piano Masterpieces. (Embassy Records, WEP1103). I think he had bought it at the long-lamented Lewis’s Department Store in Argyle Street, Glasgow (now Debenhams). It was an EP – extended play record - with four numbers: it had been released in 1963. I remember going into the parlour. The record was duly put on the record deck. Specs perched on the end of his nose my father worked his way through the instructions. I guess the last record player he had used was a wind-up affair sometime during the War. Soon Bach was coming through the speakers. It was the first classical record I had heard, and I wasn’t impressed. I fidgeted and got into trouble.  That for me was that. Meanwhile my mother bought me Cliff Richard’s Summer Holiday EP which I played nearly to destruction. Soon, I invested my pocket money in the Beatles ‘Hard Day’s Night’ single. My record collection had begun.

A few year later, when I had just begun to listen to classical music, Smith’s EP was still in the radiogram. It had been joined by several other records including Handel’s Messiah (selections) sung by the Huddersfield Choral Society and conducted by Sir Malcolm Sargent. The only other classical album was Kathleen Ferrier singing British Folk Songs. It was to be many years before I appreciated this masterclass of singing. I guess that Led Zeppelin and  Yes got in the way! 

One day, when I came home from secondary school, I did listen to Ronald Smith - when my parents were out.  I had just been selected to play a pirate in the G&S operetta The Pirates of Penzance. I needed to get to know classical music quickly, else my street cred with my schoolmates would be zero. Smith’s EP was my introduction to ‘classical’ piano music. And a splendid and varied one at that.

First up was Dame Myra Hess’s beautiful arrangement of the 10^th section of J.S. Bach’s Cantata no.147, ‘Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben,’ (Heart and mouth and deed and life), BWV 147. The piano perfectly presents the two separate threads of music: the chorale and the descant. It is a perfect fusion of musical parts.

The second piece on the first side was Frederick Chopin’s ‘Revolutionary’ Study, op.10, no.12. This is believed to have been composed in Stuttgart around 1831 and was dedicated to Franz Liszt. It reflects the composer’s anger at the failure of Poland’s revolution against Russia. The piece is dominated by varying patterns in the right hand with a ‘restless running bass’ in the left.  It opens with a loud dominant seventh first inversion chord. To my untutored ear it sounded wild and stormy.

Turning the EP over, I listened to the piano piece that Sergei Rachmaninov came to despise: The Prelude in C sharp minor, op.3 no.2. It was part of a set of five pieces entitled Morceaux de Fantasie, written around 1892. The composer was only 19 at the time. He was asked to play this warhorse at every recital to the detriment of public appreciation of his other music. Rachmaninov once said that he wished he had never written it. I loved it.

The final track on the EP was Franz Liszt’s gorgeously romantic ‘Liebesträume’ in A flat, op.62, no.3. It was written originally as a song but was ‘transcribed’ by the composer into the pot-boiler it has now become. It supposedly represents the composer’s ‘discovery’ of Chopin’s music.

So, in less than half an hour I had introduced myself to Bach played on the piano. To this day I prefer pianoforte performances of his keyboard works to those played on the clavier or the harpsichord. It was to be many years before I was able to appreciate the fine playing of Myra Hess. I had also been introduced to the ‘political’ element in music in the ‘Revolutionary’ Study by Chopin. The towering pianism of Rachmaninov impressed me with his hackneyed Prelude - I did not know this then. It was not long before I discovered his Piano Concerto No.2 in C minor. And finally, an introduction to Liszt. Both to his transcriptions, which did take me a while to get my head around, and more importantly the sheer romance of his music.

In many ways I guess that much I enjoy in music to this day, is largely underpinned by the ethos of these four pieces of music. My interest in British music was to come later.

I know that I was impressed by Ronald Smith’s playing but cannot recall the details. I was unable to find a contemporary review of this EP however reviews of his other recordings are encouraging and exceptional.  Alas, the record disappeared after my father’s death. It probably ended up in the house clearance sale. I wish I had kept it! Finally, my father’s radiogram lasted until the early 1980s when it was given away. A new sound system was invested in.