My first introduction to Frederick Delius was an old 10-inch record which I found in the Coatbridge High School music-library around 1971. It was Anthony Collins’ recording of The Walk to the Paradise Garden and On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring issued on Decca (LW 5036). They were part of a selection of Delius’ orchestral music that had been recorded in 1953 and subsequently released on various media over the following 58 years. A couple of years later I was motivated to buy two Decca Eclipse records from Cuthbertson’s Music Shop in Glasgow. These featured the entire Collins/Delius Discography. Part of the inspiration for that purchase was the delightful photographs of National Trust woodland at Wetheral in Cumberland gracing the sleeves. The seven pieces on these albums served as my apprenticeship to Delius’s music. They have remained favourites for over forty years. The performance that Anthony Collins drew from the London Symphony Orchestra (L.S.O.) has been my personal benchmark for all subsequent versions of these iconic works. It was not until some years later that I discovered Thomas Beecham’s interpretations of this music. Yet, these never usurped my original enthusiasm for Collins’ readings. I still have the Decca Eclipse records in my collection; fortunately, all the tracks are currently available on CD or download.
It is the purpose of this essay to examine the achievement of Anthony Collins in respect to his recorded legacy of Delius’ music. It will concentrate on the reception of the original recordings but will also note critical opinion of many subsequent re-releases and re-masterings.
Anthony Collins’ Biography
Unlike other prestigious British conductors, there is no ‘official’ biography of Anthony Collins. To the best of my knowledge, there is not even a ‘chapter length’ study of his life and works. What little information exists is found in a few musical reference books and in the pages of contemporary music journals and the press. The most comprehensive discussion of his achievement is in John L. Holmes Conductors on Record (1982). The current Grove is short on detail: the fifth edition (1954) does give a bit more information. The internet is surprisingly silent about his work.
Anthony Collins was born in Hastings on 3 September 1893. When he was only seventeen years old, he was engaged as a violist in the Hastings Municipal Orchestra. After four years in the army during and after the Great War, he entered the Royal College of Music and studied violin with Achille Rivarde (1865-1940) and composition with Gustav Holst (1874-1934).
For ten years he was principal violist of the London Symphony Orchestra and the Covent Garden Opera House Orchestra before resigning in 1936 to further his career as a composer and conductor. His concert debut was in January 1938, conducting the L.S.O. in a performance of Elgar’s First Symphony. In 1939 he founded the London Mozart Orchestra (not to be confused with the London Mozart Players which was formed in 1949). During the Second World War Collins lived in the United States where he conducted various orchestras and worked in the film industry. After the war he returned to England and made a number of recordings. Finally, he went back to the States in 1953. Anthony Collins died in Los Angeles on 11 December 1963. At the present time he is best remembered as an interpreter of Sibelius. From a compositional point of view, he was quite prolific: he wrote two violin concertos, two symphonies for strings, a number of light music miniatures and a large quantity of film music. His most popular composition is the short, orchestral miniature Vanity Fair which still features in many anthologies of British Light Music. In 2005 Dutton Epoch issued a ‘retrospective’ CD of Collins’ music (CDLX 7162).
The Original Recordings
The recording history of Anthony Collins’ Delius collection begins in June 1953 with the release of an LP (Decca LXT 2788) featuring Brigg Fair, On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring, The Walk to the Paradise Garden and A Song of Summer. The music had been recorded in February of that year with Collins conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. It was simultaneously released in the United States on the London Label (LL 758). The Record Guide (Edward Sackville-West, Desmond Shawe-Taylor et al.) for 1955 notes that ‘these four favourite pieces are carefully played and extremely well recorded; but the shaping, especially of the woodwind phrases and of the poetic endings leaves something to be desired. Nevertheless, this disc is bound to give considerable pleasure.’
The most detailed review of this record is given in The Gramophone magazine (June 1953). M.M. declares that Anthony Collins ‘persuades the L.S.O. into highly sensitive playing and has throughout an immense care for the niceties of internal balance, which so often in a Delius score do not by any means look after themselves.’ He concedes that three of the pieces (not including A Song of Summer) are already in ‘more or less definitive’ versions recorded by Thomas Beecham. Beecham is deemed to ‘nearly always’ extract ‘the last shred of beauty from the bewitching music, [however] Collins sometimes remains content with the last but one.’ An example is cited from the opening bars of Brigg Fair, where he suggests that after the introduction as Collins has rendered it, it is ‘just ready for Beecham to get the wood-wind soloists to linger a bit more in the right places, and to tell the harp to for pity’s sake try to play a run of five notes evenly.’ He relishes the efforts of the principal horn player in Brigg Fair.
I remember a fan of the First Cuckoo telling me that her ideal of this work was to be reminded of a hot, sultry, summer’s day somewhere in the Home Counties – not Norway or France. It could be defined as a ‘ravishing’ sound she was searching for. M.M. does not consider Collins achieves the same degree of ‘ravishment’ as Beecham does. The reason adduced is interesting – Collins sticks to the score quite strictly. This is always a subject for debate: to what extent does Beecham ‘recreate’ Delius’ score in his realisation of the First Cuckoo?
The reviewer is impressed with ‘nearly all’ of Paradise Garden, which he deems is an improvement on the ‘fine’ Beecham version. He suggests that the reason for this is the recording balance. Nevertheless, he considers that ‘Perfection…waits on just a little more lingering affection in some of the wind players. His comments on A Song of Summer bear reporting in full: ‘[this work] escapes these odious comparisons. How can you compose music like this when you are blind and paralysed- even given that you can compose music like this at all? The devotion that must have been necessary on Eric Fenby’s part has its reward in the nostalgic beauty that he set down on paper; without it the wonderful music could never have been liberated from Delius’s mind.’
The critic was impressed by the recording quality (monaural) which has a ‘brilliance and clarity that leaves any earlier versions standing.’ Technically, this means that Decca are moving towards a ‘more authentic balance that improves enormously both the realism and the aural pleasure of their recording.’ There is a downside: the tendency to ‘surface swish’ needs to be addressed. M.M. concludes his evaluation by reiterating his view that the disc is produced with ‘outstanding technical quality and very fine musical quality.’
Finally, Eric Thompson writing in the contemporary Tempo (Autumn 1953) journal had been discussing Collins’ recent release of Richard Strauss's sequence of waltzes from Acts 1 & 2 of Der Rosenkavalier (LW 5025) with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. He regarded it as ‘a lively performance and the excerpt from Humperdinck's Hänsel and Gretel, on the reverse [side] is equally good.’ Later in the review he writes that ‘Anthony Collins again, only this time with the London Symphony Orchestra, gives us four Delius pieces … [which] are clearly recorded throughout. One is inclined to associate Beecham's name with what one thinks is the ideal performance, but it is certainly demonstrated in these recordings that thought and care have been lavished upon these interpretations.
The reviewer (M.M.) in The Gramophone (May 1954) recognises the fact that Paris is not a ‘particularly characteristic’ work of Delius. He recalled how it had caused considerable disappointment when it was released as the principal work on the pre-War Delius Society record collection issued in 1934. He accepts that both Collins and Beecham have given ‘ravishing’ accounts of this work. Paris does not exhibit the usual ‘gentle, resigned melancholy’ normally associated with Delius. The Straussian mood of the work forces the orchestra to ‘show their paces’ in reflecting a ‘fascinating, kaleidoscopic picture of Paris at night and at early dawn.’ M.M. rates Collins’ version, which ‘persuades the London Symphony Orchestra into a performance of sensitivity equal to that which Beecham achieved with the London Philharmonic in the old Society set.’ Decca have ‘responded with one of their very best recordings - clear, well-balanced, smooth-toned, and with splendid handling of the climaxes as the music ebbs and flows.’ He believes that Paris will be unlikely to receive a better recording in the foreseeable future.
In a Summer Garden is seen as being a ‘little less outstanding than Paris.’ The problem is put down to the sound balance rather than to Collins’ conducting. This especially manifests itself with the string accompaniment obscuring the characteristically expressive woodwind phrases. It is a problem that has been ironed out in the subsequent re-masterings of this piece. M.M. suggests that this technical problem means that he must recommend the Beecham recording of this work on Columbia (33C1017). Neither does he feel that Collins and the L.S.O. are quite as sensitive in their performance of Summer Night on the River as Beecham. M.M. concludes by admitting that this LP, like its companion is a ‘fully worthy companion to the outstanding Beecham series on Columbia.’
The American magazine Billboard (19 June 1954) noticed Collins’ recordings with considerable enthusiasm. Reviewing the simultaneously released London Label (LL 923) record it suggests that Collins ‘…after Beecham is that composer’s most distinguished interpreter, here chalks up three more outstanding readings. Paris is a moody, evocative work not previously available on LP. The other two are happy works written in Delius’s most mature years. The recorded sound is rich and gives a magnificent sheen to this lovely music.’
The Record Review (1955) reports that this ‘is a most beautiful record’ and compared most favourably to Beecham. On the negative side, it felt that Anthony Collins did not ‘manage the climaxes as carefully…they sound a little coarse…’ The critic felt that ‘Paris…is a flawless achievement’ and that Collins has shown considerable ‘cleverness’ in ‘combining the Toulouse-Lautrec side of this luxurious music with the tender passages which offset it.’ The final thought was that the recording was so impressive that ‘one forgets the presence of the gramophone.’
To be continued….
Bibliography and Discography at the end of Part 3 of this essay.
With thanks to the
Delius
Society Journal Spring 2014 No.155: 51-6, where this
essay was originally published.
