E.J. Moeran: Overture for a Masque (1944)

It is possible to underestimate Moeran’s Overture for a Masque, quite simply because it is populist in its impact. Yet, it must be recalled that this work was written as a commission by recording executive, Walter Legge for performance at ENSA (Entertainments National Service Association) concerts as was Alan Rawsthorne’s Street Corner Overture and Arnold Bax’s Work in Progress. Moeran’s example was designed to entertain, rather than present any major ground-breaking personal statement or confession.

Moeran wrote his Overture during 1944, beginning on New Year’s Day. He was staying at this time at his parent’s house, Gravel Hill Villa, Kington, Herefordshire. Andrew Burn (Liner Notes Chandos, CHAN8577) notes that he enjoyed walks along Hergest Ridge and felt that “some measure of that delight is surely encapsulated here.” Other music produced around this time includes Six Poems by Seumas O’Sullivan written for the Irish soprano, Violet Burns. And then there were the early sketches for his Cello Concerto, which would be dedicated to his then fiancé, Peers Coetmore. One other task he had at this time was to produce his Red Army Fanfare for an event at the Royal Albert Hall in honour of the Russian Forces.

Roderick McNeill (1982, p.241) explains that at first Moeran lacked enthusiasm to compose this overture. In a letter to Peers (12 January 1944) he intimated that “…I am full of energy as regards keeping at work but, honestly, I wish the overture were finished with and I were [sic] on to something else. It is a commissioned work, as you know, and it is not my top notch; the fact is I am doing it as a duty engendered by the war, and working to a timetable I am not able to follow up my normal method of extreme self-criticism…”

However, needs must, and by 20 February 1944 he was copying out the full score. In another letter to Peers, he stated “… I think it turns out to be quite a good little work, what you might call athletic in style.” He felt that he was “going to make it really snappy and exciting for the troops.” (Letter to Peers Coetmore, 4 January 1944, cited Self, 1986, p.165).

Ian Maxwell (2021, p.248) explains that “As a short cut to get the composition of the overture completed to schedule and perhaps in some desperation, Moeran once again resorted to self-plagiarism. The music of the overture includes sections that were lifted and adapted from earlier pieces, including the First and Second Rhapsodies and two of the songs in the choral suite Phyllida and Corydon.”

Formally, this work is episodic in design, and is more of a ‘pageant’ than a ‘masque.’ Geoffrey Self (1986, p.166) suggests that “the music is nearest in structure to Moeran’s favourite form - rondo.” The composer never indicated any ‘programme’ behind the ‘masque’ title. Moeran presents the listener with lots of brass fanfares, rhythmical excitement, good tunes, and vivid syncopations. Frank Howes (Liner notes, Lyrita SRCD.247) has explained that a “four semiquaver la-la-la-la figure…pops up all over the orchestra but is also the foundation of much of the string writing as almost to create the effect of a perpetuum mobile...” This sense of motion is interrupted by the “lilting” episode in the middle of the overture. There is a deeper element here: Moeran manages to create an occasional nod towards the misty far Western shores of Eire.

The first performance of Moeran’s Overture for a Masque was given on Wednesday 5 April 1944 at the second ENSA symphony concert for war workers at the Victoria Hall, Hanley in the Potteries. Basil Cameron conducted the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. The concert was a little obscure with the rare Symphony No.32 in G, K.318 by Mozart, a transcription from a Mozart quartet movement and the Konzertstück in F minor op.79 for piano and orchestra by Carl Maria von Weber. The soloist was Phyllis Sellick. The concert concluded with Beethoven’s Symphony No.8 in F major, op.93. The Staffordshire Sentinel critic, G.T., (6 April 1944, p.3) thought that Mr. Cameron's conducting had “both Vitality and fine musicianship, and the playing of the Orchestra - in particular of the strings, who had much to do was of first-rate quality throughout. To all the music, unfamiliar as most of it was, the audience smaller than at the first ENSA concert here listened with the closest attention.” As for Moeran’s Overture, he felt that it was “full of pomp and bustle, brilliantly scored, and with a pleasant pastoral interlude, [giving] an impressive start to the concert.”

The following night, Thursday, 6 April 1944, a similar programme was given at the Birmingham Town Hall. Eric Blom, reviewing the concert for the Birmingham Daily Post (8 April 1944, p.2), in a long introduction explained that this was “the first orchestral concert for war workers [here] was a great success. Even at a shilling (about £1.80 at 2024 prices) a head, it was a great achievement to fill every seat in so large a building with people most of whom have not so far cultivated the concert-going habit. That many of them will do so in the future seemed indicated by the tense attention with which the listeners followed and the keen appreciation with which they rewarded the performances.”

Furthermore, the “programme that very properly made no concessions at all to the popular taste of the day, which shows alarming signs of favouring no music that has not been made into ballet or used as a ‘plug’ for a film. It even included - concert promoters please note! - a rather forbidding novelty, E. J. Moeran’s bleak but bracing Overture for a Masque.”

W.R. Anderson, (Musical Times, January 1945, p.19) evaluating the first broadcast performance of the Overture on 28 November 1944, noted that “…I heard it on a bad wavelength. British music, as I have some ten thousand times remarked, is rarely happy when bustling: self-consciousness supervenes in the composer, and unconsciousness, in the shape of healing slumber, in me. But this is a nicely varied piece, with some attractive wood-notes wild, piquant orchestral effects and diatonic clashery…”

This was at a concert given by the BBC Northern Orchestra, conducted by Charles Groves. Other music included Edward Elgar’s Imperial March, Saint-Saens’s Piano Concerto No.2, the slow movement from Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No.4 and Verdi’s Overture: Sicilian Vespers. The solo pianist was Marjorie Blackburn.

The score was published by Joseph Williams in 1949 and was dedicated to Walter Legge. A review in the Royal College of Music Magazine (Volume 46, No.2, June 1950, p.69f) reminded the reader that “This work was composed in 1944 for E.N.S.A. and was performed a good deal to the troops. It is well scored for full orchestra and has all the essentials of a good overture, rhythmic vitality, and contrast, with sonorous themes for horns and exciting fanfares for brass. The composer has assimilated the folk-tune element for which he has a predilection so that it is a completely unself-conscious part of his style. There are one or two faint reminiscences of Gilbert and Sullivan, but the total impression is of a vigorous, easily comprehensible, and really musical curtain-raiser.”

The Ulster Orchestra/Vernon Handley recording of Moeran's Overture for a Masque can be heard on YouTube, here.

Bibliography
Maxwell, Ian, Ernest John Moeran: His Life and Music, The Boydell Press, Woodbridge (2021).
McNeill, R. J., A critical study of the life and works of E. J. Moeran. PhD thesis (1982).
Self, Geoffrey, The Music of E.J. Moeran, Toccata Press, London (1986).

Discography
Moeran, E.J., Overture for a Masque, with Symphony in G minor, Sinfonietta, London Philharmonic Orchestra/Adrian Boult, LYRITA SRCD.247 (1997) (original LP release: LYRITA SRCS.43) (1970)
Moeran, E.J., Overture for a Masque with Symphony in G minor and Rhapsody for Piano and Orchestra, Ulster Orchestra/Vernon Handley, CHANDOS CLASSICS 10169 (2004) (original CD release: CHANDOS CHAN 8577) (1988)
Moeran, E.J., Overture for a Masque with Rhapsodies Nos. 1, 2 and 3 and In the Mountain Country, Ulster Orchestra/JoAnn Falletta, NAXOS 8.573106 (2014)

Arnold Bax’s Work in Progress: Overture for orchestra (1944)

Arnold Bax scholar, the late Graham Parlett, gives a great overview of the Work in Progress: Overture for orchestra in the final edition of the Bax Society Bulletin (January 1973, p.39). He explains that “Bax’s last overture…dates from 1943. The curious title derives from it having been commissioned by ENSA for one of their concerts intended to inspire the war workers, though in fact it sounds more like a “Bank Holiday Overture” and was referred to by the composer as “jeu d’esprit.” To those familiar with Bax’s music the work offers no surprises but, as always, the orchestration is colourful, the themes attractive and their treatment satisfying.”

The Overture was completed during November 1943, whilst the composer was residing at the White Horse Hotel, Storrington, Sussex. It was dedicated to Walter Legge (1906-79) who had commissioned it, along with overtures by Alan Rawsthorne and E.J. Moeran.

Other pieces being written by Arnold Bax at this time included the Legend-Sonata for cello and piano, and Salute to Sydney for brass and percussion. His next major orchestral composition would be A Legend for orchestra, which was finished during May 1944.

Structurally, the Overture is presented in “textbook sonata form.” Parlett (Liner Notes Lyrita SRCD 296, 2007) writes that the “opening is all bustle and feverish activity, with a forceful, contrasting idea on trumpets and trombones reflecting the strong Russian influence on Bax’s music.” The satirical reference to Haydn’s Emperor Hymn, Deutschland über Alles is noted. One wonders how many of the original concertgoers identified this allusion. This conceit is followed by a “lyrical melody on clarinet,” a “vigorous development of material” and “a modified recapitulation” before concluding with a “jubilant” coda. The Overture lasts for just over eight minutes.

Due to wartime restrictions, the location of the premiere was not detailed, save as being at a ‘New hall at a big factory in the London Suburbs,’ on the 24 February 1944. George Weldon conducted the London Symphony Orchestra (L.S.O.).

A report in the London edition of the Daily News (25 February 1944, p.3) discussed this premiere. The critic, Scott Goddard, considered that “It is capable and workmanlike music, though neither particularly diverting nor arresting from the hearer's point of view. It appears that the overture was deliberately designed to provide the type of opening to a concert which would whet the audience's appetite for more. Of that standard it falls appreciably short. The performance probably was not of the best, and it may be that a second hearing will prove the work to have more in it if than at first appears.”

The Musical Times (March 1944, p.90) reported in detail on the event: “On February 24 we were given an opportunity to see the ENSA service in action. The L.S.O. was giving a concert in the fine new hall at a big factory in the London suburbs. By special invitation, and transport, the press was present, the particular cause being the first performance of Arnold Bax's Overture Work in Progress.” The reviewer continued, “To diverge into music criticism, it is doubtful whether Bax's piece can be written down a winner, for all its willingness to break into tune and go lively. Bax will wander off into Baxianisms that are neither ‘work’ nor ‘progress.’ The Overture is real music from all points of view but that for which it was intended. However, the concert was a good one and brought forth some well-rehearsed and delicate playing by the L.S.O. under George Weldon. Unfortunately, another kind of work in progress discouraged attendance at a concert that began half-an-hour after black-out. But we were told that a three-quarter-filled hall was quite exceptional. The general rule is standing room only.”

Other performances of Bax’s Overture were advertised by the Liverpool Evening Express (11 February 1944, p.3) at Burnley on 20 March, and at Stafford. This was the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by George Weldon.

Lewis Foreman, (2007, p.369) suggests that Work in Progress “sounds perilously close to Eric Coates in style…” Despite “its extended passages of bracing, brassy allegro, it is a successful piece, and, although plumbing no depths, it is entertaining.”

Although this is not Bax at his most profound, neither can it be classified as ‘light’ music. Certainly, it is both ‘cheerful’ and ‘extrovert,’ especially in the final passage. It could be regarded as him “letting his hair down.”

Arnold Bax’s Work in Progress: Overture for orchestra, can be heard on YouTube, here. It is heard in the Handley/RPO version.

Bibliography
Foreman, Lewis, Bax: A Composer and his Times (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 1983, 1987, 2007)
Parlett, Graham, A Catalogue of the Works of Sir Arnold Bax (Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1999)

Discography
Bax, Arnold, Work in Progress, with Symphony No.6, Rogue’s Comedy Overture, Overture to Adventure, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Vernon Handley. Lyrita CD: SRCD 296, 2007.

Three Overtures for E.N.S.A. – Bax, Moeran, and Rawsthorne

The Entertainments National Service Association (ENSA) was established in 1939 by Basil Dean and Leslie Henson to provide entertainment for British military personnel and war workers during World War II. Operating as part of the Navy, Army, and Air Force Institutes, ENSA organized concerts, variety shows, and performances across military bases and factories. Notable entertainers included Adelaide Hall, The Western Brothers, and Mantovani, who all participated in ENSA’s earliest concerts. Despite challenges due to its vast coverage area, ENSA played a crucial role in boosting morale during wartime. Some ENSA members, like actors Terry Thomas, Tommy Cooper, Joyce Grenfell, and Kenneth Connor, went on to successful entertainment careers.

Walter Legge (1906-79), an influential recording executive, writing in an extensive article for the Hinrichsen's Year Book 1944 (p.175) described ENSA’s achievement in presenting classical music to civilian workers and the forces. He explained that “I have found that in building programmes for these concerts much of the success of the whole evening depends on the choice of the first work; These audiences like first of all, to hear the maximum splendour and brilliance of the orchestral sound. The best pieces we have yet found are [Berlioz’s] Carnaval Romain, [his] Hungarian March from the Damnation of Faust, [Wagner’s] Meistersinger Overture, [Borodin’s] Prince Igor Overture and Chabrier’s España. British music is unfortunately poor in works of this type. Elgar’s Cockaigne Overture and Ireland's London Overture are both rather long for the purpose and Elgar's adherence to Sonata form in his Overture perplexes the direct-minded audiences even more than it pleases those with an academic approach.”

To remedy this, he explained “so that these concerts may begin with British works I have invited Sir Arnold Bax, Arthur Bliss, E. J. Moeran, Alan Rawsthorne and [Ralph] Vaughan Williams to write works of anything from six to nine minutes in length, particularly designed to open these concerts. The Bax work called Work in Progress is already complete and will have its first performance in February [1944]. The Bliss and Moeran works are well on the way and have their first performances in the same month. ENSA is not only building audiences of the future - it is helping to add to the repertoire of British music.”

Sadly, only Moeran's Overture for a Masque, Rawsthorne's Street Corner and Bax’s Work in Progress were finished. Subsequent posts will investigate these three works.

Arnold Bax’s “Programme Notes” for The Garden of Fand (1916)

The Garden of Fand is an orchestral tone poem composed by Arnold Bax. It was completed in 1916. Inspired by Irish mythology, it evokes the enchanted island belonging to Fand, daughter of the lord of the ocean, Manannan. Although not directly depicting the mythical tale, the work captures the essence of Fand’s realm.

Lewis Foreman, in the sleeve for the Lyrita recording (SRCD.231) of Fand, wrote that: “The Atlantic was long source of inspiration to Bax. As soon as he had left the Royal Academy of Music, he “spent more and more time alone in places lorded by the Atlantic.” In Fand, the rise and fall of the waves, the undertow and the associated legends are realised in delicate patterns of figuration on wind and strings. Two harps divided strings [and] celesta are all employed to create an ever-changing iridescent musical fabric. This kaleidoscope of shifting colours is no mere unthinking wash of sound but is of formal importance in the work in a quite pictorial way. The blocks of colour are calculated to balance and contrast the musical ideas which follow the programme unusually closely for Bax.”

The work was premiered by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra on 29 October 1920 under Frederick Stock. It was first heard in Britian on 11 December 1920 at the Kingsway Hall. Adrian Boult conducted the British Symphony Orchestra.

The score of Bax’s The Garden of Fand was published in 1922 by Murdoch, Murdoch, and Co. It is prefaced by the following explanatory note:

“The Garden of Fand is the sea. The ancient Saga called ‘The sick-bed of Cuchulain’ [1] tells how that hero (the Achilles of the Gael) was lured away from the world of deeds and battles by the Lady Fand, daughter of Manannan, lord of the ocean; and how in the time of his country's direst need he forgot all but the enchantments of an immortal woman.The tale goes on to relate that Cuchulain's wife, Emer, pursued him to that wonderland and pleaded with the goddess for her husband's return. Then, with one of those touches of modern romanticism which are continually occurring in the Irish pagan tales, the Saga ends with Fand's pitying renunciation of her human love, and we read that Manannan shook his ‘Cloak of Forgetfulness’ between Cuchulain and Fand, that the memory of each might be utterly blotted out from the mind of the other.

This tone-poem has no special relation to the events of the above legend. In the earlier portion of the work the composer seeks to create the atmosphere of an enchanted Atlantic completely calm beneath the spell of the Other World. Upon its surface floats a small ship adventuring towards the sunset from the shores of Eirinn, as St. Brendan [2] and the sons of O'Corra [3] are said to have sailed in later times. The little craft is borne on beneath a sky of pearl and amethyst until on the crest of an immense slowly surging wave it is tossed on to the shore of Fand's miraculous island. Here is unhuman revelry unceasing between the ends of time, and the voyagers are caught away, unresisting, into the maze of the dance. A pause comes, and Fand sings her song of immortal love enchaining the hearts of her hearers for ever. The dancing and feasting begin again and finally, the sea rising suddenly overwhelms the whole island the immortals riding in rapture on the green and golden waves and laughing carelessly amidst the foam at the fate of the over-rash mortals lost in the depths. Twilight falls, the sea subsides, and Fand's garden fades out of sight.”

A splendid performance of the work can be heard on YouTube, here.  Sir Adrian Boult conducts the London Philharmonic Orchestra.

Notes
[1] Cú Chulainn, an iconic figure in Irish mythology, is a warrior hero and demigod. Believed to be an incarnation of the Irish god Lugh, he defended Ulster against Queen Medb’s armies. His fierce combat spirit and exceptional martial skills have become legendary.

[2] St. Brendan, also known as Brendan of Clonfert, was an Irish Christian saint born around 484 A.D. in County Kerry. Renowned for his audacious seafaring and exploratory spirit, he set sail on a fabled journey in pursuit of the mythical ‘Promised Land of the Saints.’” His journey, filled with fantastical elements, included encounters with sea creatures, floating pillars, and lush paradises. 

[3] The Voyage of the Uí Chorra (O’Corra) is an ancient Irish voyage tale. It unfolds as three sons of Connall ua Corra, having made a pact with the Devil, set forth on a penitential ocean voyage, encountering symbolic adventures and eventually finding their home on the Iberian Peninsula.

A Baker’s Dozen of British Marches

Marches were originally designed to assist the movement of troops or processions. There are several distinct types of march, including the ‘slow’ march, the ‘parade’ march and the ‘quick’ march often associated with the cavalry. Most examples are written in 2/4 or 4/4 time, although some ‘quick’ marches can be in 6/8 time.

Of interest to listeners are so-called ‘concert marches’ which do not have utilitarian uses but are simply composed to entertain concertgoers.

The character of these marches is often regal and majestic. Several listed below are associated with state occasions such as coronations and military events. Many marches follow the form of Scherzo and Trio. The former is often lively and rhythmic with a regular beat. The latter is typically more lyrical and expressive. The melody is often memorable. Frequently they express a sense of pride in British heritage.

British composers have produced some fine examples over the years. All classical music listeners will know of Elgar’s Pomp & Circumstance Marches, especially No.1 in D major (Land of Hope and Glory) and No.4 in G major. There are another four: No.2 in A minor, No.3 in C minor, No.5 in C major and finally No.6 in G minor. The last was realised by Percy Young in 1956 and later by Anthony Payne in 2006. Two other examples that are ubiquitous are Eric Coates’s Dam Busters March and his Knightsbridge March. I have not included these in the listings below. They are presented in chronological order.

1. Hubert Parry: Bridal March from The Birds of Aristophanes (1883)
2. Frank Bridge: Coronation March (1911)
3. Edward Elgar: Empire March (1924)
4. William Walton: Crown Imperial (1937)
5. John Ireland: Epic March (1942)
6. Eric Coates:  Television March (1946)
7. William Alwyn: Festival March (1951)
8. Arnold Bax: Coronation March (1952)
9. William Walton: Orb and Sceptre (1953)
10. Cedric Thorpe Davie: March – The Royal Mile (1953)
11. Arthur Bliss: Welcome to the Queen (1954)
12. William Walton: March Introduction, March, and Siegfried Music from The Battle of Britain (1969, arr.1985 by Colin Matthews)
13. Carlo Martelli: Jubilee March (2002)

I accept that listeners may not consider them as masterpieces. But they are all enjoyable, sometimes inspiring and always well written.  My favourite march from the above list is Walton’s Crown Imperial, written for the Coronation of King George VI in 1937. This is very closely followed by Bliss’s Welcome to the Queen and Bax’s Coronation March. Most of these titles are available on YouTube.

New Worlds: Mompou, Berg, Falla and Bartók Piano Music

The disc opens with the remarkable Variations on a Theme of Chopin by the Spanish composer Frederic Mompou. It was originally devised for cello and piano but was never completed. Mompou then penned four variations for piano, which were issued. Later, approached by the Royal Ballet to produce a dance score, Mompou finished all twelve variations in 1957. The ballet was never performed, but the music was duly published.

The Variations are based on Chopin’s Prelude in A major, op.28 no.7. The booklet sums up the impact of the variations: “[They] present an extreme diversity of styles and moods, including sumptuous art déco harmonies; airy reveries; gentle Mediterranean echoes of Poulenc’s pianism; more intimate, personal visions alluding to sonorities from earlier Mompou works; undisguised tributes that stick closely to the Chopinian model; and moments of passionate virtuosity.” Echoes of Fauré, Satie and the “impressionists” can also be heard in these pages.

The surprising thing about this piece is its late date. Much was happening in the mid-nineteen-fifties, with the boundaries of music being pushed to a huge extent. Think Boulez, Stockhausen Berio and Xenakis. Yet here was composer writing in an elusive, meditative, and evocative manner that is at least fifty years out of date. It is a beautiful work that is played here with a magical touch.

Alban Berg’s Piano Sonata (1908) crosses several boundaries of musical aesthetic. It looks back to Lisztian and Wagnerian chromaticism and forward to the extended atonality that was to become a feature of his music. Using thematic transformation and developing variation, the single movement gradually unfolds, creating all the appurtenances of ‘classic’ sonata allegro form – exposition, development, and recapitulation. Although written in B minor, the tonality is fluid, with abundant chromaticism and some whole tone scales.

It is known that Berg originally intended the Sonata to be in three movements, but he was unable to finish it, and on the advice of Arnold Schonberg, he published the first movement as a standalone piece.

Javier Laso gives a spellbinding performance that undoubtedly reveals Berg’s argument. It emphasises the exploration of the thematic fragments developed from the opening bars. The varying emotions are well defined, with passion and repose perfectly balanced.

The Fantasia Baetica was the last major work that Manuel de Falla wrote for the piano. (There was a small contribution to the multi-authored Homage à Dukas, published in 1935). It presents a “characteristically Andalusian manner.” Criticism over the years has tended to suggest that the Fantasia is too long: recommendations for cuts has been made. Yet what to cut? I think that removing any bars would destroy this wonderful evocation of Spain.

It was commissioned by the Polish pianist Artur Rubenstein and was reputedly premiered by him in New York on 20 February 1920. Sadly, although he championed the piece for a brief period, Rubenstein felt that it was too long, he did not really understand it, nor knew how to interpret it. Since that time, it has not had the popularity that it deserves. Great advocates include Alicia de Larrocha and Garrick Ohlsson.

In my preparation of this review, I listened to the Fantasia with the score. One marvels at the technical difficulties of this music. Mainly flamboyant, if a little brittle, there are intimate moments. Falla seems to have realised a perfect balance between the “grand romantic style” and a sense of Andalusian improvisation. I was interested to read that music historian Ann Livermore has suggested that the Fantasy was a late tribute to Isaac Albeniz, who had died in 1909. Certainly, much of the pianism would suggest the elder composer.

The liner notes advocate that it is a lively journey through an “arid landscape” – with Falla’s newfound admiration of Stravinsky becoming clear. Yet, here are “guitaristic influences, energetic dances, evocations of sultry evenings, traditional songs and resounding echoes of flamenco that are expressed in novel, authentically pianistic figurations…”  This is all captured by Javier Laso’s stunning, expressive performance.

The final opus on this CD is Béla Bartók’s Piano Sonata SZ.80 (BB 88). It was completed during June 1926 and was dedicated to his second wife, Ditta Pásztory-Bartók. The first of the three movements, Allegro moderato, is lively and dissonant and is “martial in character.” The liner notes explain that it was “probably inspired by the verbunkos, a traditional Hungarian recruiting dance.”  The second, which is alleged to evoke the Hungarian Plains, is sustained and serious in its impact. The finale, Allegro molto, is a good old-fashioned rondo, which is refreshing and dynamic. It is interesting that Bartók has used classical forms for each movement, with modernity provided by dissonance, percussive use of the piano, and lack of key signature. There is an influence from folk music, but this integrates these “overlooked resources” into “an international style weary of chromaticism.”

Spanish pianist Javier Laso studied piano at the Conservatorio Superior de Música de Salamanca, receiving many awards. Laso furthered his education at the Franz Liszt Academy in Budapest. His recordings include CDs of Schubert, Schumann, and Bach. He was recently nominated for the German “Schallplattenkritik” award.

The concluding paragraph of the liner notes reveals the raison d’être of this CD. It explains that Javier Laso’s journey on this album “travels through four apparently unrelated worlds, distilled from four lives dispersed by the tide of history. Each of those lives cultivated a new landscape in a new century, and yet all four were shaped during the same period of European history – the moment at which the old continent ceased to see itself as the centre of the known universe.”

There is no doubt that the four works presented here represent four distinct strands of Western music. They are a salutary reminder that Classical music may be harder to pigeonhole than we would first imagine. 

Track Listing:
Frederic Mompou (1893-1987)
Variations on a Theme of Chopin (1957)
Alban Berg (1885-1935)
Piano Sonata, op.1 (1908)
Manuel de Falla (1876-1946)
Fantasia Baetica (1919)
Béla Bartók (1881-1946)
Piano Sonata, Sz.80 (1926)
Javier Laso (piano)
rec. 25-27 July 2022, Auditorio de Zaragoza, Sala Mozart, Zaragoza, Spain
Eudora Records EUD-SACD-2402
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Exploring E.J. Moeran’s Chamber Music Part 3

Sonata for Cello and Piano (1947)

Critically, many commentators would state that Moeran’s Sonata for cello and piano is the highest achievement in his catalogue of chamber music. That does not imply that it is the most enjoyable or satisfactory from the listener’s point of view. The rule of thumb for approaching this dark work, is to see it as a summation of Moeran’s musical aesthetic: a backward glance, if you will. In these pages, he has successfully synthesised his romantic and developing neo-classical styles.

On 9 February 1948, Moeran wrote to Peers: ‘Now, I have just spent all yesterday on cello sonata proofs. You know I don’t usually boast, but coming back to it, going through it note by note, & looking at it impartially, I honestly think it is a masterpiece. I can’t think how I ever managed to write it.’

The sonata is written in three movements - Tempo Moderato-Allegro, Adagio and Allegro. The forms that Moeran has deployed are sonata, ternary and rondo, respectively. Allusions to the music of Arnold Bax and Béla Bartók have been proposed for this Sonata. This is a well-practiced critical game with Moeran’s music, where some commentators give little credit to his originality. Yet, much time can be wasted in trying to perform source criticism on his music. It is better to accept that all composers are influenced by their predecessors and contemporaries to a greater or lesser extent (including Bach himself). Moeran’s Cello Sonata is a mature work, that is both confident and assured. It may be that in this Sonata, Moeran was moving into a new stylistic period. Who knows where this would have led if he had not died aged only 56 years old?

Peers Coetmore gave the premiere of her husband’s Cello Sonata during a Radio Eireann broadcast on 9 May 1947. The pianist was Charles Lynch. It was not heard in London until the following year.

Listeners will find that there is little optimism in this Sonata. The ambient mood is one of darkness and gloom. A wit (unattributed) once declared that he was reminded of Irish peat bogs as the music unfolded. Yet, this is not the full story. Here and there glimmers of sunshine seem to appear in the darkness, leading to a hesitant and short-lived hopefulness. Even the most cynical listener will recognise in these pages, the complex pattern of Moeran’s deep love and devotion that he held for Peers Coetmore, with the growing recognition that his marriage was doomed.

Fantasy Quartet for oboe and strings (1946)

In 1946, the legendary oboist Leon Goossens asked Moeran to compose a work for oboe ensemble. Geoffrey Self (1986, p.199) in his study of the composer, remarks that Moeran had always enjoyed Goossens’s playing and was especially enthused by his interpretation of the beautiful ‘Intermezzo’ from Delius’s opera Fennimore and Gerda.

The Fantasy Quartet was commenced during May 1946, whilst Moeran was holidaying at the New Inn at Rockland St. Mary in Norfolk, and was completed in July of that year, whilst staying with his mother in Ledbury.

Rockland St. Mary lies on a quiet country lane between Norwich and Lowestoft and is immediately adjacent to the Norfolk Broads. In a letter (undated) to Dr Dick Jobson (the Moeran family’s doctor at Kington) the composer wrote that ‘I board and lodge in this little pub overlooking Rockland Broad...in the evening I go out rowing on these 'Lonely Waters'...this reedy neighbourhood seems to suggest oboe music.’ (Cited Moeran Database)

Formally, Moeran’s Fantasy is conceived in a single movement. Self (1986, p.200) points out that the quartet falls into several sections, ‘which are linked by the monothematic nature of the work.’ Listening to the Fantasy, the listener is not conscious of this ‘single theme’ constantly replaying but is led into the belief that the formal structure is a rondo – with the diverse episodes separating the recurrences of the prin

The Fantasy Quartet is a reflection on much that had happened in the composer’s life – most especially his boyhood memories of the area. A few folk tunes have been detected by musicologists, including ‘Seventeen come Sunday’ and ‘The Pretty Ploughboy’, but this is not a set of variations on those tunes nor an arrangement of them. Rather, they are used as a basis for the generation of themes and motifs.

At the time of composition, Moeran was struggling with alcoholism. Further, his marriage with Peers Coetmore was in deep trouble. Perhaps, the innocence of much of this mature and deeply felt piece is to be understood against the composer’s troubled life and subsequent death only four years later?

The Fantasy Quartet was first heard on 8 December 1946 at the Cambridge Theatre, London. Leon Goossens, the dedicatee, was accompanied by the Carter String Trio.

The Times (10 December 1946, p.6) reporting the premiere, considered that Moeran’s Fantasy Quartet was ‘almost inevitably pastoral in its general character.’ The reviewer felt that this work ‘somehow conveyed the feeling of sunshine over rural England.’ It makes a fitting tribute to E.J. Moeran’s creative achievement in chamber music.

Addendum

It has been noted (Philip Heseltine/Peter Warlock, The Chesterian, No.36, 1923 p.124) that Moeran composed several chamber works prior to the Trio in D of 1920. These seemingly included three string quartets predating the published A minor, and two violin sonatas plus some other unspecified pieces. Of these, only one would appear to have survived: String Quartet No.2 in E flat (posthumous) (c.1918-20). But see the discussion on this dating above. Geoffrey Self (1986, p.31) cites Hubert Foss (Compositions of E.J. Moeran, Novello, 1948) as mentioning a second piano trio. After diligent searching no other references to it has been found. Self suggests that Foss may have considered that the rewrite of the surviving Trio as being ‘so extensive as to constitute a new work.’

Bibliography
Cobbett, Walter Willson, ed., Cobbett's Cyclopedic Survey of Chamber Music Volume 2 (Oxford University Press, 1963)

Maxwell, Ian, The Importance of Being Ernest John: Challenging the Misconceptions about the Life and Works of E. J. Moeran, Doctoral Thesis, Durham University, 2014
McNeill, R. J. (1982). A critical study of the life and works of E. J. Moeran. PhD thesis, Faculty of Music, The University of Melbourne.
Self, Geoffrey, The Music of E.J. Moeran, Toccata Press, 1986
Wild, Stephen, E.J. Moeran, Triad Press, Rickmansworth, 1974
The Moeran Database (website seems to be defunct, July 2024).
The files of The Times, The Observer, The Daily Telegraph, The Chesterian, Music Review, Monthly Musical Record etc.

Brief Discography

I have listed six essential recordings featuring the corpus of Moeran’s chamber music. There are several more equally rewarding discs of many of these compositions. I have included only those currently available on CD or download.

Moeran, E.J. String Quartet No.1 in A minor; String Quartet No.2 in E flat; Trio for violin, viola, and cello [in G], Maggini String Quartet, Naxos 8.554079.

Moeran, E.J. String Quartet No.1 in A minor; String Quartet No.2 in E flat, Fantasy Quartet for oboe and strings, Trio in D for violin, cello and piano, Vanbrugh String Quartet, Joachim Piano Trio, Nicholas Daniel (oboe), John Lenehan (piano), ASV CD DCA 1045.

Moeran, E.J. String Quartet No.1 in A minor, Sonata in E minor for violin and piano, Fantasy Quartet for oboe and strings, John Talbot (piano), Donald Scotts (violin), Sarah Francis (oboe), Melbourne String Quartet, English String Quartet, Chandos CHAN 10170 X.

Moeran, E.J. Prelude for cello and piano, Sonata for cello and piano, includes Cello Concerto in B minor, Peers Coetmore (cello), Erik Parkin (piano), London Philharmonic Orchestra/Adrian Boult Lyrita SRCD 299.

Moeran, E.J. Sonata for two violins, with music by Rebecca Clarke, Paul Patterson, Gordon Jacob and Alan Rawsthorne, Midori Komachi (violin), Sophie Rosa (violin), Simon Callaghan (piano) EM RECORDS EMRCD043.

Moeran, E.J. Irish Lament for cello and piano, Prelude for cello and piano, with music by Ralph Vaughan Williams, Frank Bridge, Edward Elgar, Frederick Delius and Arnold Bax, Gerald Peregrine (cello), Antony Ingham (piano) Naxos 8.574035.

With thanks to Spirited, the Journal of the English Music Festival where this essay was first published.

Concluded.

Exploring E.J. Moeran’s Chamber Music Part 2

String Quartet No.1 in A minor (1921)

This String Quartet is one of Moeran’s most characteristic pieces. Mostly lively, there are a few grey moments, which may reflect the composer’s response to the winter coasts of East Anglia. The opening movement (allegro) is urbane in its presentation of the two main themes, and their subsequent development. Much of this is redolent of the then-contemporary English music’s enthusiasm for modally inflected melodies and harmonies, as well as folksong. The movement ends with a reprise of the opening material.

The heart of this work is the lovely ‘andante con moto.’ The main theme is sad and moving in its gentle exposition. The music nods towards the country of Ireland here, which was so influential for Moeran. There is just a hint of animation in the middle section before the opening strain returns in all its subdued and reflective glory. The Quartet concludes with a technically demanding ‘Rondo.’ Moeran has introduced a comprehensive palette of rhythms to provide this lively and rumbustious movement with energy and drive. Once again, confected folk song seems to underlie the melodic material in this movement. Overall, it is hardly surprising that several critics have suggested the influence of Maurice Ravel’s Quartet (1903) on this piece.

The String Quartet in A minor was dedicated to Désiré Defauw (1885-1960), a Belgian violinist and conductor, who had been a refugee during the war, working in London. The Quartet was premiered at the Wigmore Hall on 15 January 1923, by the Allied String Quartet which included Defauw as lead violinist.

Sonata in E minor for violin and piano, (1923)

W J. Mitson (Cobbett, 1963 p.146) divines the correct mood for this introverted and sometimes disturbing work. He hears that its ‘dominant note is a strong seriousness, which deepens even to tragedy.’ For enthusiasts of Moeran’s music, this Violin Sonata may seem much more discordant than expected. There are several passages which project violence, and others that portray a ‘solemn intensity.’ This is so different in tone to the String Quartet written around the same time. Commentators often note the debt of this Sonata to Moeran’s teacher, John Ireland: he finished study with him in 1922. Geoffrey Self (1986, p.36) has insisted that this composition ‘far exceeds in power, energy, and scope anything similar by the older composer.’

The Violin Sonata opens with a brusque sonata-form movement. This balances a ‘tense and brooding’ first subject, with a second that gives just a little repose. Interestingly, Moeran breaks convention by recapitulating the main themes in reverse order. This enables him to conclude the movement with an unsettled mood. The coda is frantic in its brief explosion of power. The slow movement, ‘Lento’ is less brutal, but the intensity of the rhapsodic first subject is exacerbated by dissonant and chromatic harmonies. On the other hand, the second theme of movement is typical Moeran. It is relaxed and evocative of the English landscape. Only here in this Sonata is there any optimism. The final movement is a ‘rondo’, but there is little lightness of touch here, despite the dance-like principal theme (or refrain). This opening melody becomes increasingly ferocious in sound on each recurrence. Even the intervening episodes do little to ease the tension. Rhoderick McNeil (Liner Notes, CHAN 8465) has suggested that ‘the violence of this final movement, and indeed the dark intensity of the work as a whole, can be related to Moeran’s first-hand experience of the horrors of the First World War.’

The modernist tendency of this music pointed in a direction that Moeran may have taken if it had not been for his friendship with Peter Warlock, for better or worse.

Sonata for two violins (1930)

The remarkable thing about the Sonata for two violins is the wide-ranging invention which permeates virtually every bar of this three-movement work. There is a satisfying balance between a muscular approach to the material, and many sensitive and expressive moments. The music is always spontaneous. The opening movement shows a ‘nonchalant interweaving of parts.’ (Monthly Musical Record, October 1937, p.185). This insouciant temper is carried into the middle movement, ‘Presto’, which constantly displays ‘rhythmic vitality’. The final ‘Passacaglia’ is particularly impressive in its ingenuity. This is tightly controlled in both its exposition and variation. The entire piece demands an exacting technique from both soloists. There is little repose in this Sonata, with the pace being brisk for most of its sixteen-minute duration.

The Sonata for two violins was premiered during a Contemporary Music Centre concert at the College of Nursing on 3 May 1932. The soloists were André Mangeot and Walter Price (McNeill, 1982).

Trio for violin, viola, and cello (1931)

This work was dedicated ‘To the Pasquier Trio’, who gave the premiere performance on 20 October 1931, at a Music Society concert at the St John’s Institute, Tufton Street, Westminster. The Daily Telegraph (21 October 1931 p.10) reviewer C.G. (Cecil Gray) provided the fundamental critical assessment which has largely held to the present day. The ‘Trio further confirmed the favourable impression created by his Quartet some years ago [1921]. It is exceedingly well written for the medium…and, if lacking any outstanding originality, nevertheless, possesses distinction of thought and clarity and precision of style. It is probably the best thing its composer has yet given us, in fact.’ A good description of the music is given by The Times (23 October 1931, p.10). The reviewer, possibly H.C. Colles states that the Trio ‘is an attractive work of definitely English flavour, avoiding in its workmanship the extremes of bareness and fussiness…It also avoids prolixity, and the slow movement is striking for its terse combination of lyrical feeling and astringent quality.’ Despite the Trio’s ‘Englishness’ the thematic material is neither ‘folk’ nor ‘folksy’ [but] instrumentally conceived.’

The opening movement ‘Allegretto giovale’ is interesting in being written entirely in 7/8 time. This provides the opportunity for irregular cross rhythms, offering considerable interest throughout. The slow movement ‘Adagio’ is expressive, without ever descending into long-windedness. Here and there, Moeran introduces some sharpness, which never becomes commanding. The ‘scherzo’ played ‘molto vivace’, is suitably light-hearted and occasionally just a touch facetious. The finale begins with a fluid ‘andante grazioso’ before proceeding to a ‘presto’ dance-like coda.

Critically, in the Sonata for two violins and the Trio for violin, viola, and cello, Moeran can be seen pushing against his ‘Delian roots.’ In a letter to Peter Warlock (cited Self, 1986, p.91), Moeran wrote: ‘...It is an excellent discipline in trying to break away from the mush of Delius-like chords, which I have been obsessed with on every occasion I have attempted to compose during the last two years.’ There is a close relationship between the Sonata for Two Violins and the Trio, both in their more caustic mood and musical texture.

Peers Coetmore and Moeran

Moeran composed two major works for the English cellist Peers Coetmore (1905-1976) - the Cello Concerto (1945) and the Cello Sonata (1947), as well as two short pieces, the Prelude (1943) and the Irish Lament (1944) both for cello and piano.

For an informed appreciation of these compositions it is important to understand the context. Anecdotally, in 1930 Moeran met Peers Coetmore at a reception organised by the artist Augustus Johns (Wild 1973, p.14). Coetmore had been an exceptional student at the Royal Academy of Music, winning the Piatti Prize for cellists in 1924. At the time of her meeting with Moeran, she was beginning to enjoy a successful solo career. Thirteen years later, the couple met again at a concert in Leominster. Within weeks they were engaged to be married. It was virtually love at first sight, at least from Moeran’s perspective. The musical outcome of this relationship was the inspiration to compose several works for his bride-to-be to perform. The most significant of these is the magisterial Cello Concerto (1945). The wedding took place at Kington Parish Church on 26 July 1945. (Moeran Database).

Much has been written about the Moeran/Coetmore relationship: it is fair to say that their marriage was far from successful. They were largely incompatible. Moeran often needed to escape into solitude, and Coetmore had a busy performance schedule and a commitment to war-work with CEMA (Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts) and ENSA (Entertainments National Service Association) engagements. Gradually, the couple drifted apart. In 1949, Coetmore left the United Kingdom for an extended tour of South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand. They did not see each other again. Moeran died on 1 December 1950. It is not possible to read a detailed programme into these compositions for cello and piano: they are not ‘autobiographies’. Yet, in many of these pages, Moeran expressed the genuine, deep feeling he had for Peers.

Prelude for Cello and piano (1943)

This Prelude, ‘Adagio ma non troppo’ for cello and piano is a deceptively simple piece. The cellist plays a heartbreakingly beautiful melody, that is accompanied by a straightforward piano part. It was offered to Peers as a ‘keepsake’ whilst she was on tour with ENSA. It was premiered by her in Alexandra, Egypt in early 1944. Geoffrey Self (1986, p.164) does not rate it highly. He writes, ‘it is a work of little distinction; the cello melody is shapely enough, but the piano part is frankly dull. It is a retrogressive piece doomed to a humble place in grade examination lists.’ I would suggest Moeran deliberately wanted the cello to predominate with its gorgeous, lyrical melody, and to allow the piano to play a subservient role. Reviewing the score (Novello, 1944), The Music Review (May1945, p.71) gives a less than complimentary note on the Prelude: ‘It…is best described as ‘School of Londonderry Air’ and a blasé posterity will probably earmark it as domestic after blacking-out music of the middle [1940s].’

Irish Lament for cello and piano (1944)

The Irish Lament is more complex than the Prelude. It is based on an authentic Irish folksong. Readers who know Moeran’s piano music will realise that it is an arrangement of his ‘Irish Love Song’, written in 1926. The ethos of the Lament is self-evident. This has been recreated as a heartfelt love song to his then fiancée. It is typically sad and introspective with just a hint of passion. I think that it is telling the title of the arrangement has changed from ‘Love Song’ to ‘Lament’. It is unfortunate that Peers Coetmore did not make a commercial recording of this piece.

The score was published by Novello in 1952. It is not known when the premiere of the Irish Lament was given.

Bibliography
Cobbett, Walter Willson, ed., Cobbett's Cyclopedic Survey of Chamber Music Volume 2 (Oxford University Press, 1963)
Maxwell, Ian, The Importance of Being Ernest John: Challenging the Misconceptions about the Life and Works of E. J. Moeran, Doctoral Thesis, Durham University, 2014
McNeill, R. J. (1982). A critical study of the life and works of E. J. Moeran. PhD thesis, Faculty of Music, The University of Melbourne.
Self, Geoffrey, The Music of E.J. Moeran, Toccata Press, 1986
Wild, Stephen, E.J. Moeran, Triad Press, Rickmansworth, 1974
The Moeran Database (website seems to be defunct, July 2024).
The files of The Times, The Observer, The Daily Telegraph, The Chesterian, Music Review, Monthly Musical Record etc.

With thanks to Spirited, the Journal of the English Music Festival where this essay was first published.
To be continued…

Exploring E.J. Moeran’s Chamber Music Part 1

The English composer E.J. Moeran (1894-1950) is best recalled for a few of his orchestral music, including a ‘rhapsodic’ Violin Concerto (1942) and a ‘glorious’ Symphony in G minor (1937). Singers may include the occasional song in their repertoire, whilst sporadically one or two piano pieces might creep into a recital. On the other hand, virtually all Moeran’s published music has been issued on record, CD, or download, in at least a single recording.

This essay will explore all the published chamber music by E.J. Moeran. This is an introduction to these works, not a detailed analysis. It is presented in roughly chronological order (beginning with the early String Quartet, composed (possibly) just after the end of the First World War, although there is some contention on this dating. The final chamber work is the heartfelt Cello Sonata, written in 1947 for his wife, the cellist Peers Coetmore. Much of this Sonata is a musical reflection on his love (or was it an infatuation?) for Peers. It was a relationship that was slowly coming to an inevitable end.  I have grouped the pieces written for Coetmore together.

Moeran’s chamber music provides a snapshot of his life, musical aesthetic, and passions. Taken overall, it is an enviable achievement, which cries out to be more prominent in the repertoire, both in the recital room and on CD.

Each work is given a brief introduction in non-technical language. I have tried to set them within the context of Moeran’s life and to give a few ‘helpful’ verbal impressions of the music. Additionally, I have referred to some contemporary reviews and subsequent critical comment. The essay concludes with a bibliography and a select discography.

Biographical Notes
The English composer Ernest John Smeed Moeran (E.J. or ‘Jack’) was born on 31 December 1894, in the village of Heston, near Hounslow in Middlesex. His father, who was a clergyman, had been born in Ireland, and his mother hailed from East Anglia. After prep school in Cromer, the young Moeran attended public school at Uppingham in Rutland. Then, as now, this school was particularly noted for its musical achievements. Moeran’s teacher there was Robert Sterndale Bennett, the grandson of the well-known Victorian composer, William. In 1912, Moeran enrolled at the Royal College of Music, however, he left here shortly after the declaration of war in 1914. He immediately enlisted in the army in the 6th (Cyclist) Battalion of the Royal Norfolk Regiment, where he was a motorcycle despatch rider. After service on the Western Front, he was invalided out with a serious head wound. Before he was demobbed, he spent time in Ireland which was inspirational for him.

After the war, Moeran studied privately with John Ireland, but this arrangement did not last long. Unfortunately, for the composer’s health and wellbeing, he did much of his musical ‘training’ with Peter Warlock (Philip Heseltine) and the enigmatic Bernard van Dieren. Their social influence led to Moeran’s heavy drinking.  It was a problem that he would never entirely overcome. 

In the post First World War years, Moeran collected folksongs from Ireland, Norfolk, and Suffolk. This influenced his not inconsiderable catalogue of original songs and choral music. He continued to write several important works, but it was not until the premiere of his Symphony in G minor in 1938, that he finally established his reputation as a leading British composer. Other major compositions followed, including the Violin Concerto (1942), the Rhapsody No. 3 in F-sharp major for piano and orchestra (1943) and the Cello Concerto (1945).

An important element of Moeran’s aesthetic was the influence of the country of Ireland. As noted, his father had been born there, and the composer came to love that nation, its people and culture, and spent much time there.

E.J. Moeran died on the banks of the River Kenmare in County Kerry on 1 December 1950. It was believed that he had a cerebral haemorrhage. He is buried in Killowen Old Parish Churchyard.

Stylistically, Moeran’s music changed from the ‘John Ireland-esque’ piano music of the early twenties, through the ‘folksy’ works and then the ‘high’ romanticism of the Symphony in G minor, to a new, personal, even neo-classical style forged during and after the Second World War. Yet, underlying all these ‘periods’ is a concern for structure, and a warm, lyrical tone is nearly always a prominent feature of Moeran’s music.

The Published Chamber Music Catalogue
I have used the titles given in Geoffrey Self’s ‘Classified List of Works’ (Self, 1986, p.257f).

1. String Quartet No.2 in E flat (posthumous) (possibly 1918-20) Novello & Co. Ltd, 1956
2. Trio in D for violin, cello and piano (1920, revised 1925) Oxford University Press, 1925
3. String Quartet No.1 in A minor (1921) J & W Chester Ltd., 1923
4. Sonata in E minor for violin and piano, (1923) J & W Chester Ltd., 1923
5. Sonata for two violins (1930) Hawkes and Son, 1937
6. Trio for violin, viola, and cello (1931) Augener., 1936
7. Prelude for cello and piano (1943) Novello & Co. Ltd, 1944
8. Irish Lament for cello and piano (1944) Novello & Co. Ltd, 1952
9. Fantasy Quartet for oboe and strings (1946) J & W Chester Ltd., 1947
10. Sonata for cello and piano (1947) Novello & Co. Ltd, 1948

String Quartet No.2 in E flat (posthumous) (c.1918-20)

The immediate post-First World War years were particularly busy for E.J. Moeran. In February 1920, he had returned to the Royal College of Music to study composition with John Ireland. Several important works were written in that year, including the Theme and Variations for piano, the A.E. Housman settings in the song-cycle In Ludlow Town, and the first version of the Trio in D. Moeran’s first orchestral piece, In the Mountain Country was completed in the following year. For relaxation, he toured France and Spain on a motorcycle with the Irish artist and writer Robert Gibbings.

It is understood that Moeran wrote four string quartets. The earliest was composed whilst he was still at Uppingham School. The score is missing. Three more followed. Only the final one, in A minor was published in his lifetime.

The String Quartet No.2 in E flat was found by the composer’s wife, Peers Coetmore in her late husband’s papers: it was not published until 1956. There is a debate about the work’s dating. Geoffrey Self (1986, 253 ff.) has argued that it is a late composition: the composer’s valediction. On the other hand, there is also an opinion that what we know as String Quartet No.2 may consist of two fugitive movements from these above-mentioned ‘lost’ early quartets. Certainly, Ian Maxwell (2014, p.133 ff.) considers that they were written at different times. This is based on hand-writing analysis. Furthermore, the second ‘movement’ can be seen emulating the formal characteristics of the English Phantasy promulgated by Walter Willson Cobbett and his Competitions between 1905 and 1919.

After considerable analysis, Maxwell declares that the most likely date for the first movement is the spring of 1918, and the score was possibly completed whilst Moeran was stationed at Boyle, County Roscommon. The second movement may have been composed for submission to the Cobbett competition of 1917.

Whatever the historical precedent for this attractive quartet, it is well-written, both formally and instrumentally. The two movements operate well together. It may not be the composer’s greatest chamber work, but it is certainly full of good things, that are often quite inspired.

Trio in D for violin, cello and piano (1920, revised 1925)

The Piano Trio is the longest of Moeran’s chamber works being just short of half an hour. It would be unfair to suggest that this was ‘only’ a student exercise. On the other hand, the influence of his teacher John Ireland is evident as well as that of Johannes Brahms, by way of Charles Villiers Stanford. The Trio was premiered at the Wigmore Hall on 12 November 1921, by the Harmonic Trio.

The reception of the original (1920) version was mixed. The Observer, (13 November 1921, p.16) considered that  '...[the work] proved to be rather too dependent on rhythmical considerations, so that the lengthy slow movement loses interest, and the whole trio, which is in modern vein, and couched in the language with which John Ireland’s chamber music has made us familiar, does not grip very well. But the composer has ideas not without originality, and if he can develop them into more closely knit movements, with a power in them other than that of rhythm alone, he will produce some strong work one day.’ It was a prophetic critique.

Between 1920 and 1925, Moeran revised the Trio, including several excisions and modifications. The manuscript for the original version is lost. 

The opening movement uses several themes, which, it could be argued are overdeveloped. It has been suggested that Delius may be a model for the beautiful slow movement. The following scherzo is characterised by a much ‘harder edge’, that implies he was trying to get away from the ‘Delian’ tag. It is possible that the Ravel Piano Trio (1914) could have been at the back of Moeran’s mind here. The final movement, a rondo, is infused by folk music, with the principal subject being characterised by a pentatonic mood (black notes on the piano). Whatever the formal shortcomings of the Trio, it has a deep lyrical flow. This is what makes it a success and deserving of more performances.

Bibliography
Cobbett, Walter Willson, ed., Cobbett's Cyclopedic Survey of Chamber Music Volume 2 (Oxford University Press, 1963)
Maxwell, Ian, The Importance of Being Ernest John: Challenging the Misconceptions about the Life and Works of E. J. Moeran, Doctoral Thesis, Durham University, 2014
McNeill, R. J. (1982). A critical study of the life and works of E. J. Moeran. PhD thesis, Faculty of Music, The University of Melbourne.
Self, Geoffrey, The Music of E.J. Moeran, Toccata Press, 1986
Wild, Stephen, E.J. Moeran, Triad Press, Rickmansworth, 1974
The Moeran Database (website seems to be defunct, July 2024).
The files of The Times, The Observer, The Daily Telegraph, The Chesterian, Music Review, Monthly Musical Record etc.

With thanks to Spirited, the Journal of the English Music Festival where this essay was first published.

To be continued…

Chamber Music of Kenneth V. Jones on Lyrita

Kenneth V. Jones and I go back a long, if limited, way. Many years ago, I discovered a mimeographed score of one of his songs in a famous second-hand music shop in London. At first, I thought I had found a holograph, but as it was only priced at £1, I guessed that it was merely a copy. But the name stuck in my mind. Some years later, I was watching one of the iconic British Transport Films Down to Sussex on video (remember them?). This was a remarkable portrayal of outstanding places and events to visit: Brighton, Chanctonbury Ring, Goodwood Races, polo at Cowdray Park, and Glyndebourne. The score was by Jones. In fact, he wrote the music for fourteen films in this series. Those I have seen always impressed me by their lyricism and craftmanship. So, it was with considerable anticipation that I listened to this remarkable new disc from Lyrita. I am beholden to Paul Conway’s outstanding introduction to the composer and his discussion of the repertoire, in my preparation of this review.

The liner notes give a decent biographical introduction to Kenneth V. Jones. Another source is the British Music Society Journal article on MusicWeb International, here, although this was written about 15 years before his death.

A few very brief notes may be of interest. Jones was born in Bletchley on 14 May 1924. He attended the King’s School in Canterbury. During the Second World War he completed an RAF sponsored course in music and philosophy at Queen’s College, Oxford. This was followed by four years in the service with Short Sunderland flying boats in Africa and Asia. From 1947, he studied at the Royal College of Music under R.O. Morris, Bernard Stevens, and Gordon Jacob. Highlights of his career include being founder and first conductor of the Wimbledon Symphony Orchestra. His work covered many genres, including the above-mentioned film scores, and incidental music for plays and television. I understand that concert works include three Sinfonias for orchestra, a Concerto for strings, and an another for oboe.

Jones aesthetic could be categorised as neo-classical, never avant-garde, but creating a bittersweet harmonic and melodic sound world. One advertising text suggests that “the language is familiar - Françaix and Shostakovich come to mind - engaging, playful and immediately graspable.” I would add Tippett, Rawsthorne and Bartók as useful stylistic markers.

Kenneth V. Jones died on 2 December 2020, aged 96 years.

The first work in this outstanding disc is the Quintet for piano and string quartet, op.26 (1967). A contemporary review in The Times (7 April 1967) suggested that the style was not “strikingly original with its echoes of Bartók and Tippett.” Yet, on a positive note, A.E.P. considered that despite a rough and ready performance, it was well constructed and “formally succinct.”  This is especially so with the final movement’s revisiting of material from the Allegro and the Adagio. Nearly sixty years on, listeners worry less about influences, and more about impact and integrity. This is a striking Quintet that impresses with its energy, vigour, and on occasion introversion. The piano is busy all the time but is not overbearing. It presents a constructive dialogue between all the instruments, never allowing one to dominate the proceedings.

The Wind Quintet No.2, op.2 was commissioned by UNESCO, and was complete by 1952. It was another three years before it was premiered during a studio broadcast on the BBC Third Programme (14 December 1955) and with the first public performance being during January 1956. The Quintet is presented in four short movements. What I enjoyed most was the luminous sound of the instruments, whether it was in “fanfare like gestures” of the opening Lento, the “crisp, clipped progress” of the Vigoroso or the “liquid fluency” of the slow movement. The finale is a delight with its hunting horns bidding farewell. One contemporary commentator (Daily Telegraph, 31 January 1956) accurately caught the work’s mood which showed “a feeling for the medium which lends itself…to the jocular, the pastoral and the aphoristic.”

I always enjoy hearing what can be termed “grade music,” such as the small character pieces by Alec Rowley, Felix Swinstead or Thomas Dunhill. I guess it comes down to the fact that it is good to hear tunes created for the tyro, played by professionals. The London Mozart players give six examples taken from Jones’s collection devised for the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music. All date from 1971. They are written for violin or cello and piano and vary from Grade 1 to Grade 5. All are well-wrought and no matter how technically simple are never patronising in their composition and performance. See the track listing above for the redolent titles. The one that caught my ear/eye was the lovely sounding The Day Dawns on the Breakwater.

Quinquifid is both an unfamiliar word and a novel musical title for me. It means “five columns" or as the booklet suggests “that which is cleft into five parts.” Certainly, this is what Jones has done with this brass quintet. It was written in 1980 and is the most recent piece on this disc. The five contrasting sections are linked by short cadenzas. Various dispositions are presented including the witty, the ruminative and the confident. Various brass techniques are used such as flutter-tongue and muted trumpet. The middle Jiocoso-Andante lyrico suggests a smoochy smoke-filled room, whilst the Duet-Shadow Play, the briefest movement, provides some respectable counterpoint between the two trumpets. Surely a work of this quality should be in the repertoire of all wind quintets.

Jones’s Piano Sonata, op.4 dates from 1950 whilst he was still a student at the Royal College of Music. Presented in three concise but not too short movements, it has been described as “a bright clear-cut composition, more a sonatina than a full-scale composition.” (Andrew Porter, Radio Times 27 February 1953). I would argue with him about this definition. For one thing, it lasts for more than twelve minutes and there is a wider range of emotion than a didactic sonatina. Typically, the music is angular, but a romantic strain emerges, especially in one of the episodes in the vibrant Rondo burlesque. This contrasts with the meditative Adagio molto sostenuto. The first movement is the most acerbic of the three, with “heavily accented, repeated chords” and wild scotch-snaps. Overall, this is a creative, satisfying and technically proficient piece for solo piano.

The Two Contrasts for solo cello were written in 1971. These imaginative numbers were dedicated to Jones’s son’s distinguished cello teacher, Margaret Moncreiff. The first, Energico, is witty and full of life, whilst the Andante espressivo is thoughtful and lyrical. Both end with a fetching pizzicato.

Jones’s String Quartet No.1 dates from 1950. It is presented in a single movement but is divided into two unequal parts. The work opens with a short Lento espressivo, which soon builds up momentum, before the Allegro moderato takes over. Conway suggests that Bartók is an inspiration, along with Elizabeth Maconchy’s Quartets. The latter had reached her sixth at this date. Stylistically, Jones insisted that the “acerbic, gritty character of the music” is in “direct contrast to the pre-Second World War English Pastoral style.” That said, 74 years on, there is nothing too stark about this quartet. Conway is correct in suggesting that there is “a certain folklike quality to the writing, not least in its punchy syncopations, that roots the score in a distinctly British landscape.” For me, it is one of the most enjoyable quartets that I have heard in a long time. It deserves its place in the recital room.

I have already mentioned the outstanding liner notes. There are a couple of points though. No CV of the London Mozart Players is given, although this is easy to find online. And secondly, the track listing states that several of the compositions are “undated” however, in the programme notes these are supplied…

The performances, which are always fully engaged and sympathetic, are aided by an excellent recording.

This is a resourceful CD which introduces the listener to an unfairly forgotten British musician. Jones’s music is always interesting, approachable, and enjoyable. I would most definitely welcome a subsequent disc of his work.

Track Listing:
Kenneth V. Jones (1924-2020)
Quintet for piano and string quartet, op.26 (1967)
Wind Quintet No.2, op.2 (1952)
From Easy Pieces for violin and cello (1971): The Day Dawns on the breakwater (cello); Valley Song (violin); The Moorhen’s Tap Dance (cello); Semi-Siesta (violin); Dancing Puppet (violin); Morning Song (cello)
Quinquifid for brass quintet (1980)
Piano Sonata, op.4 (1950)
Two Contrasts for solo cello (1971)
String Quartet No.1, op.6 (1950)
Soloists from the London Mozart Players
rec. 18-19 September 2020 (String Quartet, Two Contrasts, Wind Quintet, Quinquifid); 2 August 2022 (Piano Quintet, Easy Pieces) St John’s Upper Norwood, London; 9 August 2023 (Piano Sonata) Wyastone Concert Hall, Monmouth.
Lyrita SRCD.434
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.