Malcolm Arnold’s Four Cornish Dances (1966) Part 2

Academic review: Hugo Cole (1989) gives a detailed account of the ‘Four Cornish Dances.’  He begins by suggesting that there were ‘no obvious models or precedents…for Cornish Music in the twentieth century.’  Certainly this was the case for Arnold who eschewed the use of folk-songs from any particular locality.  Cole thinks that he was ‘able to draw more freely on inner inspiration…to produce one of the most interesting of his dance-suite sets that is furthest removed from dance roots.’ 

He suggests that the opening ‘vivace’ may well allow the listener to imagine ‘fishermen, farm workers, and tin miners leaping vigorously to the bold and rhythmic music of the first dance.’  There were a number of musical aberrations that a local fiddle player would not have found conducive, for example the downward modulation of a minor third in each entry of the main theme.

I agree with Cole’s suggestion that the second dance has an ‘almost oriental character.’  The harp and tuned percussion add to this disposition. The relationship with Cornwall may be the impressionist mood that Arnold successfully creates which is redolent of blue skies and clear waters.

Cole recognises that the third movement seems to abandon any attempt at ‘dance.’ In fact this is a Cornish hymn tune, ‘even down to the final amen.’ This music ‘measures the height of Methodist fervour.’ The score insists that this ‘dance’ is played ‘senza parodia’ however Cole believes that there is just a ‘touch of affectionate parody’ in these bars.

The final movement is likened to Holst’s St Paul’s Suite with its ‘mixture of march and jig.’  There is a seemingly ‘out of area’ reference to the Yorkshire tune ‘On Ilkley Moor’ and Cole concludes that the ‘spirit of the dance has been transformed into something almost threatening: we have moved away from the village green and into Arnold’s inner mind.’

Piers Burton-Page (1994) believes that the ‘Cornish Dances’ ‘strike a deeper note than the earlier English or Scottish collections.’ He considers that the ‘four movements are carefully contrasted in tempo and texture to form a coherent whole.’ Following Hugh Ottaway (Musical Times, July 1968) he sees them as ‘miniature tone poems’, which I believe is an excellent listening strategy for these dances.

The first tune is a ‘seafaring song of Arnold’s own invention’ utilising the ‘Cornish trick of repetition on a single note.’  He observes the ‘highly independent counterpoint in the lower strings’ and the ‘lurches into a new and often hilariously unexpected key.’ The second dance is a ‘landscape in music, ghostly, eerily atmospheric, [and] exquisitely scored.’ Burton-Page elaborates:

‘…this is the deserted engine house of the composer’s programme note. The Cornish landscape is dotted with such abandoned mines, tragic reminders of Cornwall’s past, now objects of bleak beauty in themselves-some with preservation orders on them.’

 He quotes an undated letter from Arnold to Christopher Ford:

‘Sometimes you climb down the cliff and you have a feeling of mystery, of all those people who have suffered, and yet who are still walking out there.’

Malcolm Arnold’s father, William, was a Primitive Methodist so his son would be familiar with Cornish religious practices and musical preferences. He notes that this is not a dance, but a hymn tune in the style of Moody and Sankey. There is ‘no hint of Arnold parodying Victorian sentimentality, nor any implied condescension towards local custom, but only warm hearted enjoyment.’ 

Burton-Page is reminded of the ‘Fêtes’ movement from Claude Debussy’s Nocturnes in the last of the ‘Cornish Dances.’  The piece begins with an ‘offstage procession’ that gradually builds up to a huge climax. Arnold had used the Padstow May Day celebrations as his inspiration, without actually quoting the tune, for which the composer admitted ‘I would never have been forgiven.’  In his letter to Christopher Ford, the composer had said:

‘May Day in Padstow is a Pre-Christian rite, of strange and mystical origin: nobody knows its exact date…I create an impression of the excitement, ending with a huge finale which I always think should be called Bruckner’s Day Trip to Cornwall!’

A detailed analysis of the ‘Four Cornish Dances’ is presented by Paul R.W. Jackson’s (2003).  The first dance, a vigorous vivace in 3/4 time, has the main theme repeated, beginning in C major but modulating downwards by a minor third –A, F sharp, E flat and back to C.  Jackson notes the ‘full-throated melody’ that is supported by ‘increasingly elaborate counterpoint, often highly rhythmic with the emphasis on the most unexpected beats.’  The sea is evoked in this melody, and Jackson reminds the reader that the chef Rick Stein, an old friend of the composer, used this as the theme music to his BBC2 series, Taste of the Sea.

Getting a handle on the slow movement has proved difficult for critics. This is hardly a dance at all, more a piece of impressionism that ‘owes much to the sea music of Debussy and Ravel.’  Jackson suggests that it was inspired by Arnold’s walks along the Cornish coastline. He quotes the above mentioned letter from Arnold to Christopher Ford.  Tubular bells, harp and percussion are used. The main theme is based ‘on descending chromatic figures which meander like wisps of mist.’  The middle section is unsettling, with the ‘roar of waves on some distant outcrop…’ The original mystery and stasis returns.  Jackson mentions that the composer used a ‘version’ of this movement in his score for 1966 film Sky West and Crooked.

Like other commentators, Jackson sees no sense of condescension in the hymn-like third dance. In fact he believes that it ‘sums up the dignity of the Cornish people, whom Arnold feels “have been ruthlessly exploited.”’ He does suggest that the composer did introduce a touch of humour when, in the final ‘peroration’ of the hymn-tune, a counter melody on the horns played ‘bells up’ is introduced, ‘in the best Mahlerian fashion.’

The final movement makes use of two contrasting melodies: a 2/2 tune first heard in the distance takes its rhythm (but not melody) from the traditional Padstow May Day Dance and an ‘anxious jig-like tune in 6/8 played on the flute. The Dance ends with the first tune ‘played at half speed against in canon in a blazing peroration.’ It was a favourite ‘device’ of the composer.

Anthony Meredith and Paul Harris (2004) provide an interesting analysis of the work as well as providing details of the personal context.  They declare that these Dances ‘strike a much deeper note than their English and Scottish counterparts…’ 

The first movement has an ‘insouciance about it which suggests a confidence which the Cornish air gave Malcolm, the swagger and panache, the ‘sense of community more so than I’ve ever known.’’ The authors then quote Christopher Ford (Guardian 17 April 1971):

‘This is the movement of a man who can “breeze into his local before midday, amiably abuse the landlord for not stocking a hangover cure, buy drinks all round, then hammer out the end of Walton’s First Symphony on an out-of-tune upright, shouting the percussion parts he  cannot play, followed by sweltering chunks of Tosca.”’

The second Dance has a ‘ghostliness of…melody and orchestration’ that, in their opinion is more focused on the deserted tin mines than the Cornish sea-scape.  The author suggest that it owes much to Arnold’s discussion with his friend the artist Tony Giles (1924-95) who specialised in semi-abstract landscapes, often depicting Cornwall.

The third movement is ambiguous. Sometimes regarded by listeners as moving ‘from quiet reflection to brazen protestation, very moving.’ Others take Arnold’s instruction to play this dance ‘senza parodia’ with a pinch of salt and ‘think him merely mocking Cornish revivalism.’ The view is taken that Arnold was in fact saluting it, in memory of his father, who was a staunch supporter of this strain of Methodism. The music may well reflect his father ‘listening to his revivalist hymns in some God-forsaken chapel, gritting his teeth in grief’ as he witnessed the troubles and illnesses of his family.

The last movement celebrates May Day in Padstow. Meredith and Harris note that Arnold was a devotee of the ‘Obby Oss’ ritual: ‘it starts at midnight outside the Golden Lion, one of Malcolm’s favourite pubs, with lots of singing, accompanied by accordions, triangles and drums.’ The composer loved this ritual, especially that of the two horses – one the ‘charity horse’ and the other the ‘drinking horse.’ The reader is left in no doubt as to what one the composer supported in the event!

Bibliography
Burton-Page, Piers, Philharmonic Concerto: The Life and Music of Sir Malcolm Arnold (London, Methuen, 1994)
Cole, Hugo, Malcolm Arnold: An Introduction to his Music (London, Faber, 1989)
Jackson, Paul R.W., The Life and Music of Sir Malcolm Arnold, (Aldershot, Ashgate, 2003)
Craggs, Stewart R., Malcolm Arnold: A Bio-Bibliography, (Westport, Connecticut, Greenwood Press, 1998)
Meredith, Anthony and Harris, Paul, Malcolm Arnold: Rogue Genius, (Norwich, Thames/Elkin, 2004)
Hunt, Phillip, Malcolm Arnold in Cornwall http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2006/Jan06/Arnold_Cornwall.htm (accessed 4 June 2016)

The files of The Musical Times, Fanfare, The Gramophone, The Northampton Chronicle and Echo, Music & Letters, CD liner notes, etc.

To be concluded...