Jottings on Great British Music reaching their Centenary Part 2

The Fugal Overture by Gustav Holst seems a long way in its impact from The Planets. In 1922 he had begun writing a neo-classical work, after the example of Paul Hindemith’s or Igor Stravinsky’s explorations into this genre. Yet, Stravinsky had not written his Octet for Wind (1923) and Hindemith had not begun his series of Kammermusik, op.36 (1925). The composer’s daughter, Imogen Holst, suggests that he was not following fashion, but that “his inquiring mind had led him up this particular path at that particular moment.” The reality is that Holst did not relish the fame that The Planets had brought him, and the Fugal Overture was written as an intellectual antidote. Although mostly composed during 1922, the last touches to the score were completed on 4 January the following year. The Overture was originally used in the ballet A Perfect Fool.  There is an anecdote that Holst was minded to call the work his “bally fugue,” but decided against this use of old fashioned, but mild expletive. Musically, the Fugal Overture is full of cross rhythms and syncopation, which makes for a lively and interesting work. For the contemporary listener, it is a fascinating exploration into part of Holst’s catalogue that remains hidden, save to enthusiasts of his music. Gustav Holst is always in danger of being a “One Hit Wonder” with his The Planets. It is good to move beyond this undoubted masterpiece.

Sine Nomine: A Phantasy for two voices, chorus and orchestra is hardly one of Herbert Howells’s best-known works. It was written at the behest of Edward Elgar for the 1922 Gloucester Three Choirs Festival. Other music commissioned for this event included Eugene Goossens’s Silence for chorus and orchestra, and Arthur Bliss’s Colour Symphony. Howells’s contribution is not really a choral work as such. There is no text. In fact, it is an orchestral work that uses voices to add instrumental colour. The listener need only think of the “Neptune” movement of Holst’s The Planets, the Sirènes from Claude Debussy’s Three Nocturnes and elements of Maurice Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé, to see how effective this can be. Rob Barnett (MusicWeb International, 2 December 2002) had described the overall impression of this work as being “raptly angelic contemplation with the twists and turns of harmony and melody looking towards Vaughan Williams' Pastoral Symphony. The writing has one looking into the glorious light of the sun shining in benevolence.” The title Sine Nomine, is the Latin for “without name.”

Howells’s Procession was the last of his Three Pieces, op.14 for piano. They date from between 1918-1920. It was his longest composition for piano. The other two numbers were Rhapsody and Jackanapes. The Procession was the result of a nightmare. Howells was approached by a large crowd, and midst the sound of pealing bells: he was overwhelmed. It is a “million miles away from any pastoral imaginings that the listener may have constructed around the composer’s reputation.” The work reflects his interest at that time in Diaghilev and the Russian and French composers of the period. Stravinsky is evident in this often-bleak music. The work was dedicated to the composer Arthur Benjamin. Procession was orchestrated in 1922. It was premiered at the Proms on 29 August at the Queen's Hall, London, played by the Queen's Hall Orchestra, and conducted by the composer.

Ernest John Moeran wrote three orchestral rhapsodies between 1922 and 1943. The First Rhapsody (1922) was composed the year after the orchestral tone poem In the Mountain Country, and in many ways builds on the success of this earlier piece. I get the feeling that there is just a touch more subtlety. A Rhapsody can often imply a string of pearls, or at any rate, a collection of folk tunes. Think of Haydn Wood’s Manx or Edward German Welsh Rhapsodies. However, no English or Irish folk song has been identified as having been ‘lifted’ by Moeran: all appear to be of his own invention. This work is dedicated to John Ireland who was his teacher at that time. There is a good balance between enthusiastic, ‘Ravelian’ passages and the typically reflective mood music that hints at the Irish landscape, its folklore and its peoples. Any criticism of this piece overlooks just how competent the orchestration is. His handling of the woodwind is worthy of study. This is a confident composer perfectly at home in handling large forces, building strong climaxes, but never losing a sense of intimacy. It is a beautiful work.

The Three Fancies, completed by Moeran in 1922, could be construed as ‘mere’ salon music, albeit of a high quality. Yet there is much here that goes deeper. For example, the Elegy, with its dark and depressing harmonies, is in complete contrast to the more ebullient pieces that flank it. It has been suggested that this slow music is a ‘dreamy pastorale,’ however that is a sentiment that overstates the mark. If any landscape is being described, it would be a marshy bog, and not the smiling fields that the Scholar Gypsy knew. The Burlesque lightens matter up. It is not a peasants’ dance but is full of ‘uncouth’ piano figurations that may suggests Bax’s Gopak (1912). The opening ‘fancy’ is really a little masterpiece that could well stand on its own. Moeran spent much time in Norfolk exploring the villages and searching out folksongs. In his travels he would come across windmills - certainly more than nowadays grace the skyline. His musical evocation of these ‘quixotic giants’ echoes the ‘revolving sails’ in a clever impressionistic manner. There is a quieter interlude when the wind has died away to a whisper. But the miller’s business is safe, the breeze returns, and the sails revolve once more. It is a perfect miniature tone poem. It has been recorded several times (Una Hunt, Eric Parkin, Iris Loveridge and Duncan Honeybourne).

Peter Warlock is best known for his contribution to the English Song repertoire. However, strange as it may seem, his most popular work is in fact orchestral - the evergreen Capriol Suite. There are one or two other works for this medium. I think the most successful is the Serenade for the 60th Birthday of Frederick Delius. Most listeners will realise that this is pastiche: it is more “Delius than Delius.” The harmonies, form and melodic flow reflect the elder man’s achievement with an unbelievable accuracy. Yet somehow the work stands on its own. It is a beautiful tribute to a great composer. “Gorgeous” is not an immoderate adjective to use for this piece. It has been one of my Desert Island Discs for half a century! There are many recordings, and it has a secure place in the orchestral repertoire.

Concluded