Lennox Berkeley: Film Music for Hotel Reserve

Hotel Reserve was an RKO production British spy film set just before the outbreak of World War II. The film follows Peter Vadassy, an Austrian medical student and refugee, who is vacationing at the Hotel Reserve on the French Mediterranean coast. His holiday takes an unexpected turn when he is accused of espionage after some photographs developed from his camera reveal images of French military installations. It turns out that while the camera is the same make as Peter’s, the serial number is different, leading to the discovery that someone else at the hotel must have a similar camera.

Vadassy is released by French naval intelligence on the condition that he identifies the real spy among the hotel guests. His investigation leads him to eavesdrop on suspicious conversations and search guests’ rooms, uncovering multiple passports and a web of deceit. The story escalates with threats, bribery attempts, and a dramatic police chase, culminating in the revelation of the true spies and their motives.

The script was based on Eric Ambler’s 1938 novel Epitaph for a Spy. James Mason stars as Peter Vadassy, “delivering a compelling performance that captures the tension and intrigue of pre-war espionage.” Other actors included Herbert Lom, Lucie Manheim and Raymond Lovell.

Tony Scotland (Lennox and Freda, Michael Russell, 2010, p.341) explains that due to “the difficulties of getting his…work broadcast, encouraged [Berkeley] to look elsewhere for commissions, and like Walton…turned to films.” He was asked “at very short notice” to compose the score for Hotel Reserve.

The music for the film was recorded on 28 October 1944, by the BBC Northern Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Muir Mathieson. The movie was directed by Victor Hanbury, Lance Comfort and Max Greene.

The stylistic impact of the score is very much of its time. It balances suspense and drama with the occasional romantic overtones. A large orchestra was used, allowing the composer to create a score that contributes to the film’s overall anxiety and atmosphere.

The critic John Huntley (British Film Music, Skelton Robinson, 1947, p.67) considered that “the music was better than the film.”

Sadly, the holograph is missing. A short extract from the film score has been preserved on YouTube, here. The entire movie can be viewed on the Internet Archive, here.

Lennox Berkeley: Sonatina for piano duet, op.39 (1954)

Seventy years ago, on the 8 July 1954, Lennox Berkeley’s elegant Sonatina for piano duet, op.39 was given its premiere performance by Michael Linsey and Sybil Jones at the College of Art, Stoke on Trent. I was unable to find any reviews of this recital.

The Sonatina was composed shortly after he had completed his operas A Dinner Engagement, op.45 and Nelson, op.41. Other pieces written at this time include the incidental music to Goethe’s play, Iphigenia in Taurus, the motet Crux fidelis, op.43, no.1 and the anthem Look up, Sweet Babe, op.43, no.2.

Alec Rowley in Musical Times (December 1954, p.660) succinctly summed up Lennox Berkeley’s Sonatina: “a minimum of notes, [and] refinement of taste […] in texture, it is a true Sonatina, and in appearance, ingenuous and stark in outline.” This bleakness becomes less fearsome on repeated hearings. In fact, there is significant warmth and elegance in much of this refreshing music. The three nicely contrasted movements feature lively syncopation in the opening Allegro moderato, well-considered lyricism in the Andante, and a conclusion with a definite nod to Poulenc in the Allegro finale.

The first London performance was given at the Wigmore Hall, by Uza Fuchsova and Paul Hamburger on 18th January 1955. A wide-ranging recital included Beethoven’s 8 Variations on a Theme by Count Waldstein, WoO 67 and Schubert’s Variations on a Theme from Hérold's 'Marie', Op. 82, No. 1 (D.908). There were other works by Mozart, Mendelssohn, Dvorak and Moszkowski. The only other modern piece was Peter Racine Fricker’s Nocturne and Scherzo, long since disappeared from the repertoire.

The Times (24 January 1954, p.3) reviewer was impressed by the Berkeley duet: “In his Sonatina Berkeley again revealed his blessedly welcome gift of never writing a note too many, either from viewpoint of length or clarity of texture. All three movements were most cunningly disposed for the four hands, particularly the limpid middle Andante.”

Equally complimentary was the brief assessment by Mosco Carner in the Daily Telegraph (19 January 1955, p.8): “[The] Sonatina was terse in expression without being blunt, admirably clear in form and transparent in sonority. The last movement in particular, with its discrete contrapuntal interest was a model of four-hand piano writing.”

Donald Mitchell in the Musical Times (March 1955, p.151) reported that “Lennox Berkeley's three-movement Sonatina sounded marvellous throughout and its invention was as crisp as its textures. The work offered Mr. Berkeley's customary charm and elegance but perhaps rather less than his usual amount of memorable composition.”

Lennox Berkeley’s Sonatina for piano duet, op.39 can be heard in live performance on YouTube here. The soloists are not credited in the video.

Lennox Berkeley: Suite for String Orchestra (1974)

Whatever happened to Lennox Berkeley’s Suite for String Orchestra, op.87? According to Stewart R. Crags (Lennox Berkeley: A Source Book, Ashgate, Aldershot, 2000, p.115) this work was completed in 1974. It had been commissioned by the Westminster Cathedral String Orchestra, with funds from the Arts Council. It was duly performed at St John’s Smith Square, London on 1 June 1974, under the baton of Colin Mawby. Concertgoers also heard Berkeley’s Antiphon for string orchestra, in two movements. The evening included music by Corelli, Boyce, and Handel as well as an “inane” harp concertino by Jean-Michel Demase, with Ossian Ellis as soloist.

The Suite is in four movements: Introduction (Lento) and Fugue (Allegro); Air (Andantino); Scherzo and Epilogue (Lento sostenuto). It had a duration for about 11 minutes.

The manuscript is dated “Nov:1973-Jan:1974.” It was published in 1974 by J.& W. Chester Ltd. Other music written around this time included the Guitar Concerto, op.88

The Daily Telegraph (3 June 1974, p.12) gave an excellent complimentary review of the Suite: “The new piece…proved delightfully ingratiating to listen to, if no doubt tricky to play.” The critic considered that “the most immediately memorable movement, Scherzo, contained a trio melody of heartwarming luminosity, and the work opened and closed in a quiet serenity which, together with the flowing spun-out Air stamp the work with the composer’s typically reticent poetry.”

And then the Suite disappears. There is no recording listed on the Lennox Berkeley Website. I was unable to find an assessment of the score. Furthermore, there is no discussion of it in Peter Dickinson’s The Music of Lennox Berkeley (Woodbridge, Boydell Press, 2003) nor in Tony Scotland’s Lennox and Freda (Norwich, Michael Russell, 2010). I was unable to locate any subsequent concert performances or BBC radio broadcasts.

This is clearly a major work by one of Britain’s senior composers that has simply disappeared. Perhaps it is time for a revival?

Tournament for Twenty Fingers: British Piano Duets

The concept behind this CD is to present the “complete” works for piano duet (four hands, one piano) by four British composers. Not included are any pieces written for two pianos. 

Lennox Berkeley’s Palm Court Waltz, op.81, no.2a for piano duet dates from 1971. It was originally devised for orchestra and called the Diana and Actaeon Waltz. The liner notes do not mention that it was written at the request of Richard Buckle for The Greatest Show on Earth, held in aid of the “Save the Titian” fund.

It is difficult to know if this is a pastiche of the Viennese valse or just a bit of fun. Erik Satie’s Je te veux may be another model. After an overblown introduction, the rather Poulenc-ian main waltz theme is introduced. A characteristic of this number is the tendency for the progress of the work to suggest that the performers have “lost their way” or are going back to the beginning of the score – yet the steady 3/4 time is never lost for a moment. (Liner notes)

In 1954, Alec Rowley succinctly summed up Lennox Berkeley’s Sonatina for piano/four hands, op.39. He notes “a minimum of notes, [and] refinement of taste…in texture, it is a true Sonatina, and in appearance, ingenuous and stark in outline.” (Musical Times, December 1954). Yet, this bleakness becomes less fearsome on repeated hearings. In fact, there is significant warmth and elegance in much of this refreshing music. The three movements are well contrasted featuring lively syncopation in the opening Allegro moderato, well-considered lyricism in the Andante and concluding with a definite nod to Poulenc in the Allegro finale.

It is the first time I have consciously listened to Berkeley’s Theme and Variations for piano duet, op.73. It was completed in 1968 and dedicated to Annie Alt and Gerald Stofsky. For many years it remained unpublished. Stylistically, this is a serial composition that never quite avoids a sense of tonality. For some tastes, the harmonies will be considered “astringent” but the “Gallic sensibility of Ravel and Poulenc is still very much in evidence.”  (Liner Notes). This is serious music, which is also infused with a sense of humour. There are seven contrasting variations following, based on a largely “in key” arpeggio Theme.

This disc includes the premiere recording of Richard Arnell’s Sonatina for piano duet, op.61. Not mentioned in the liner notes or track listing, this was composed in 1950. Like many other Sonatinas for piano (Ireland, Ravel) this is not technically easy: it was not designed for pianists learning their trade. There are four short, concentrated movements. It would be easy to define this work as neo-classical. Yet there are moments of romance in these pages. The booklet suggest the influence of Prokofiev and Stravinsky, but the overall impact is very much of Arnell’s own devising.

The clever thing about Stephen Dodgson’s Tournament for Twenty Finger (1952, 1954) is that it sounds more difficult than it is! It is written in two parts (volumes), with Part One majoring on a selection of dances which include a Gavotte, a Romance, the Fantasia in C minor, a Cradle Song and the unusually titled Hill-Billy. Despite this latter term being nowadays derogatory, no offence was meant by Dodgson. Part Two also has a Cradle Song, preceded by a brief Allegretto. It concludes with A Bohemian Entertainment which is inscribed “To the memory of Antonín Dvořák.” It is certainly a celebration of Czech music, which as the liner notes explain, was particularly important to the composer.

I found Dodgson’s Sonata for piano duet (1949) rewarding. This single movement work is constructed as a central Allegro moderato framed by two Maestoso sections. There is much of interest here. It is not a particularly dissonant piece, but one that is extremely flexible in tonality and making much use of chromaticism. The entire Sonata is always entertaining. It reflects Hugo Cole’s opinion that Dodgson’s music was “designed to divert and charm, rather than edify or promulgate great truths.” (Quoted Liner Notes).

The final offering is Constant Lambert’s crossover Trois Pièces nègres pour les touches blanches. This work was commissioned by the London Contemporary Music Centre and was dedicated to that organisation’s president, Edward Clark. The premiere was given by Mary and Geraldine Peppin on 17 May 1949. The three movements are entitled Aubade, Siesta and Nocturne. Various influences seem to appear. This includes Lambert’s own jazz cantata The Rio Grande (1929) and the cool pianism of Dave Brubeck. Strangely, the gorgeous Siesta nods more to Francis Poulenc rather than to any bop musician. The work’s title may seem inappropriate in the 21^st century. To be sure Lambert’s use of the word nègres would seem to embrace Afro-Caribbean and Latin-American cultures. Then, there is the conceit of “Black” music played on the “White” keys only. This was one of the last pieces that Constant Lambert had written before his early death in 1951. It is surely one of his most characteristic.

The performances by Emma Abbate and Julian Perkins are thoroughly enjoyable, committed, and technically sound. The BIS recording is excellent. Analytical notes are authored by Stephen Johnson, with an introduction by Julian Perkins. There are brief bios of the two performers. It would have been helpful if the dates of all the pieces had been given in the track listing. The booklet is printed in English, German and French. I appreciated the humorous cover design, based on illustrations by Dresden artist Friedrich Martin von Reibisch, realised by David Kornfield.

I suggest a careful exploration of this CD. Each work is worthy of due attention and concentration. I guess that few of these duets will ever become “popular,” however they are all important contributions to the genre. All deserve to be in the repertoire of piano duet players.

Track Listing:
Lennox Berkeley (1903-89)
Palm Court Waltz, op.81 no.2 (1971)
Sonatina in E flat major for piano four hands, op.39 (1954)
Theme and Variations for piano four hands, op.73 (1968)
Richard Arnell (1917-2009)
Sonatina for piano duet, op.61 (1950)
Stephen Dodgson (1924-2013)
Tournament for Twenty Fingers (1952, 1954)
Sonata for piano duet (1949)
Constant Lambert (1905-51)
Trois Pièces nègres pour les touches blanches (1949)
Emma Abbate, Julian Perkins (piano)
rec. 16-17 November 2020, St George’s Bristol, England
BIS BIS-2578 SACD

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Lennox in Paris

In the autumn of 1926, Lennox Berkeley moved to Paris to study with the redoubtable Nadia Boulanger. Whilst in residence, he met virtually everybody that was anybody in Parisian musical circles. This included Igor Stravinsky, members of Les Six, and Albert Roussel. He had lessons with Maurice Ravel. In 1932, Berkeley returned to England. This present CD “is designed both to pay homage to Lennox and to acknowledge the pivotal role played by Paris in his life and development as a composer. It combines music by Berkeley with his Parisian near-contemporary Francis Poulenc, and Lili Boulanger, the younger sister of Nadia.”

This recital opens with the Sonatina for violin and piano, op.17. It dates from 1942, shortly after Berkeley had returned from a “working holiday” in Gloucestershire with his friend Benjamin Britten. The sonata was dedicated to Gladys Bryans, who was an elderly admirer of Lennox’s music. She made her house in Gloucestershire available as a quiet space for him to create in. The opening movement is written in sonata form, with two relaxed and melodic themes. All the drama is presented in the development section. The Lento is big music in a small package. A brooding melody is whipped up into a “boiling passion” in the middle section, before falling back into its ghostly mood. The finale has a well-wrought theme, followed by five variations. These are complex, sometimes intense, and feature several mood swings. Like many works with the title Sonatina, this introduces material that is deeper and more difficult than the title suggests. It is certainly no teaching piece for the tyro. 

Lennox Berkeley’s three-movement Sonata No.1 remained unpublished until 2015, which seems unbelievable for such a confident and accomplished piece. Moreover, the LB webpage lists only one other recording: Lennox Berkeley: Complete Music for violin and piano, and solo violin, Edwin Paling (violin) and Arabella Teniswood-Harvey (piano) MD 3361, 2012. The Sonata was written whilst Berkeley was resident in Paris. In fact, it dates from his time with Nadia Boulanger. The café culture of Paris infuses this essay. Berkeley uses “basslines, syncopations, and rhythms drawing on jazz.” Yet this is not a “jazz” work, like Milhaud’s Le Boeuf sur le Toit or Gershwin’s American in Paris. He has used these constructive elements to create a personal and refined “take” on music that was in the air at the time. The Sonata was premiered by Yvonne Astruc and Madeleine Grovlez, for the Société Musicale Indépendante at the École Normale on 4 May 1932. It deserves further hearings, and to be reintroduced into the concert hall.

The Elegy and Toccata, op.33 for violin and piano were completed in 1950. They were the second and third in a set of three, written for the violinist Frederick Grinke. The Elegy balances contemplation with passion. It is a lovely moody number. The Toccata is a warhorse, demanding the fleetest of fingering to maintain the momentum of this restless and fast paced tour-de-force. For some reason, Emmanuel Bach chose not to include the first in the set, the Theme and Variations, op.33 part 1 for solo violin. There may just have been enough room on the CD.

Three short pieces by Lili Boulanger, Nadia’s younger sister, are included. Nocturne is nostalgic and thoughtful. There is definite hat tips here to Claude Debussy. The Cortège is dancelike, rather than a funeral procession. D’un Matin du Printemps is her masterpiece. Janus-like it looks backwards to Debussy and forward to Les Six. It dates from 1917 and was therefore one of her last projects. This was conceived in several versions, simultaneously. Editions exist for flute and piano, string trio and full orchestra. It is a perfect evocation of spring, which is full of delight, bursting nature and innocence, with just the occasional hint of something more sinister. This is hardly surprising as it was conceived during the height of the Great War.

Francis Poulenc’s Violin Sonata FP 119, is a wartime work, dating from 1943. It was dedicated to the memory of the great Iberian poet, Federico García Lorca who was murdered by the nationalist forces during the Spanish Civil War. The music balances “agitated passion” with “nostalgia and tenderness.”  This is typically serious and lacks the joie de vivre so common in much of Poulenc’s output. As might be expected, the slow movement, Intermezzo: Très lent et calme is the heart of the sonata. The score here is marked with a quotation from Lorca, “the guitar makes dreams weep” which certainly suggests the concept of another, better world. Here melody predominates. The mood is sleepy, with an Iberian sultriness. The finale is signed Presto tragico. Here, the music is often violent, driven by powerful rhythms but finally ending with a tragic, slow coda. This is a splendid effort that belies Poulenc’s stated dislike of the solo violin. He felt that this sonata was an “utter failure.” What did he know?! The liner notes do not state that it was heavily revised in 1949, before publication.

The final three pieces on this CD are arrangements of Poulenc’s piano music by Jascha Heifetz. No dates are given in the booklet for the originals or the transcriptions. Poulenc once remarked that his Mouvements perpétuels FP 14, (1918) were "ultra-easy", and “compared them to a brisk stroll by the Seine.” I am not so sure that they are for Grade 4. I assume that Heifetz only transcribed two of the three numbers – the short Très modère is not included. The opening Assez modere is urbane and suggests the thought of a Boulevardier, whilst the Alerte has many time-signature changes, march-like harmonies and an exuberant melody. It ends inconclusively. Both Mouvements are effective in their violin and piano arrangement.

The “helter-skelter” Presto in B flat major, FP.70 was originally composed for Vladimir Horowitz. The liner notes suggest this is an impression of a fairground.

I found both the recording and violin playing a little on the “bright” side and sometimes harder edged than it needs to be. That said, both soloists are clearly dedicated to this project, the playing is excellent, and contributes a great deal to the CD’s success.

The liner notes are authored by Emmanuel Bach. They make a good introduction to this music. After a brief overview of Berkeley’s residence in Paris, succinct notes for each work follow. I wish that the author had included the “Opus” and “FP” numbers in the track listings where appropriate. There are the usual biographical notes about the performers. The texts, which are eminently readable, are printed in English, French and German. One snag. Due to the thickness of the booklet it is jammed into the clips in the jewel case. My copy is damaged already in getting it in and out. There is no booklet download available.

This is an interesting album, full of good things. I am not sure that the Heifetz transcriptions were essential to this project. Also, all but two of the pieces recorded here were written before or after Lennox Berkeley’s residence in Paris. That said, all the music is worthy and deserves to be in the repertoire.

Track Listing:
Lennox BERKELEY (1903-89)
Sonatina for violin and piano, op.17 (1942)
Sonata No.1 for violin and piano (1931)
Elegy and Toccata for violin and piano, op.33 parts 2a and 3 (1950)
Lili BOULANGER (1893-1918)
D’un Matin du Printemps (1911-18); Nocturne (1911); Cortege (1914)
Francis POULENC (1899-1963)
Sonata for violin and piano, FP 119 (1943)
Mouvements perpétuels, FP 14 (transcr. Jascha HEIFETZ (1901-87)) (1918/?)
Presto in B flat major, FP.70 (transcr. Jascha HEIFETZ) (1934/?)
Emmanuel Bach (violin), Jenny Stern (piano)
rec.9-11 April 2021, Turner Simms Concert Hall, University of Southampton, UK
WILLOWHAYNE RECORDS WHR070

Lennox Berkeley: A Diminutive Vignette from 1950

Whilst researching Benjamin Frankel’s Overture: May Day, I came across a small article in the highly respected journal, The Stage (31 August 1950). The sentiment expressed here is largely universal amongst composers. However, his prognostications about the future of music were a little out of kilter. 

VIEWPOINT: LENNOX BERKELEY, without wishing to suggest that he feels personally aggrieved at being omitted (for he insists that he has had generous treatment in the past), thinks it a pity that so few contemporary composers figure  in this season's ‘Proms’. Maintains that it is not enough for a young composer's work to have the honour of a first hearing; new works must be repeated. to give listeners a chance of becoming familiar with them. An important composition can rarely be appreciated in a single performance. Says that the crop of young people seeking a career in music is as likely as ever to produce outstanding talent, which ought not to be forced in any one direction. A creative bent will always reveal itself. Agrees, however, with Ravel, that it is a mistake for young people to dabble in composition until they have mastered the technicalities. His own training was based on a long and intensive study of the classics. Thinks the present-day trend in music is to avoid strident discordances. ‘Shock tactics’ have had their day. A greater simplicity in harmonic patterns will mark the style of the new musical period we are now entering. (The Stage 31 August 1950, p.12)

It is correct that Lennox Berkeley did not feature in the 1950 Promenade Season. To be fair, over the years he has had some 37 performances at this Festival. And ‘recently’ he had works included in the 1949 and the 1951 seasons.  In 1950 Berkeley completed his Sinfonietta, his Elegy and Toccata for violin and piano, op.33/2 and the rarely heard Theme and Variations op.33/1 for solo violin.

There were surprisingly few ‘novelties’ at that year’s Proms. Only one has remained in the repertoire: Bartok’s Viola Concerto (currently, some 20 recordings listed on Arkiv). British premieres included Bax’s Concertante for orchestra and piano solo (left hand), the above-mentioned Overture: May Day by Benjamin Frankel, Gordon Jacobs’s Symphonic Suite for orchestra and Elisabeth Lutyens Viola Concerto. These are typically known only to enthusiasts of each composer. Even Ralph Vaughan Williams’s Fantasia on the Old 104^th Psalm Tune for piano, chorus and orchestra is hardly one of his most popular and successful pieces. From abroad, Leo Sowerby’s Organ Concerto and Arthur Honegger’s Prelude, Fugue and Postlude are rarely heard, despite being of considerable interest.

It is difficult to argue with Lennox Berkeley that it is desirable that young composers master the technicalities before presenting their masterpieces to the musical public. That said, there is a school of thought the says technique is elitist. Just compose… I think Berkeley is correct.

Lennox Berkeley misjudged the progress of music in the following decade. He did not seem to forth-tell Darmstadt, Boulez, Integral Serialism, Indeterminacy, and the rise of the avant-garde so prominent in the succeeding 30 years.  ‘Shock Tactics’ certainly predominated for better or worse during this period. Listeners had to wait until the 21^st century to be ‘beguiled’ by ‘a greater simplicity in harmonic patterns’ so prevalent in the insipid music of Einaudi and his cohort. To be fair to Lennox Berkeley, some of this ‘simplicity’ was foreseen by the Minimalist composers, who began their experiments in the early 1960s but flowered during the 1970s. Then the whole field of modern music exploded into a multiplicity of diversity: Rock/Pop/Classical/Jazz Fusions, Eclecticisms, Neo-Romantic and Neo-Classical, New Complexity, Ambient, Computer Music…

It would have taken a well-connected fortune-teller to have predicted all this.

Some Musings on Lennox Berkeley’s Symphony No.3 (1969): The Premiere Performance

Introduction

Half a century ago, on Wednesday 9 July 1969, Lennox Berkeley’s Symphony No. 3 in One Movement, op.74 was premiered at that year’s Cheltenham Festival. Other works heard at this concert included Albert Roussel’s Piano Concerto (1927) with soloist Claude Helffer and Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique (1830). Jean Martinon conducted the Orchestre national de l'Office de radiodiffusion-télévision française (now Orchestre national de France). The event was attended by the Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester and several local dignities.

This essay will put the Symphony into context, as well as examining the contemporary critical response. It will concentrate on the premiere. This is neither a technical analysis nor a programme note.  In a future essay, I would like to explore the 1973 Promenade Concert performance, as well as the reception of the two subsequent recordings.

On 1 July 1969, the Investiture of Prince Charles as Prince of Wales had taken place at Caernarvon. Three days later Ann Jones, the home favourite, won the Ladies’ Singles at Wimbledon. Her opponent was Billie Jean King. Neil Armstrong became the first ‘man on the moon’ as part of the Apollo 11 space programme on 21 July.

The Daily Telegraph (10 July 1969), reporting the news for 9 July noted that ‘higher rail fares likely’, a threat of rail strikes on British Rail’s Southern Region and parliamentary ‘trouble’ over the ‘Redistribution of Seats Bill’.  Top of the single charts was Thunderclap Newman’s ‘Something in the Air.’ The Number One album was Jim Reeves ‘According to my Heart.’  Competing with the live BBC Radio 3 broadcast of the Cheltenham concert, were The Good Old Days on BBC1 and Coronation Street on ITV.

Genesis

Stewart Craggs (2000, p.34) notes that Berkeley began his Symphony No.3 during December 1968, and, completed it in April 1969. Other works composed around this time include the Windsor Variations, op.75 (1969) commissioned by the Windsor Festival Society. This has not been issued on record or CD, although a recording of a radio broadcast circulates amongst enthusiasts.

During April and May 1969, Berkeley had been on an extended visit to Paris, Monte Carlo and Toulouse. In the early months of the year, he wrote his first setting of ‘Ubi Caritas et Amor.’ A second would follow in 1980.  The previous year had seen the completion of the Magnificat, op.71 (1968), the premiere of the Oboe Quartet, op.70 (1967) and the song ‘Automne’, op.60, no.3 (1963). Towards the end of 1968, Berkeley finalised his Theme and Variations for piano-duet, op.73. All these have received at least a single recording, although they can hardly be described as in the general ‘classical’ repertoire. Berkeley also wrote the unaccompanied choral piece ‘The Windhover: To Christ our Lord’, op.72, no.2 (1968). There was the London premiere of the choral piece ‘Signs in the Dark’, op.69 (1967) which awaits a commercial recording.

The Symphony No.3 was dedicated to Anthony and Lili Hornby. Anthony was a stock-broker and art collector and Lili was a dancer (Powell, 1995, p.224). The miniature score was published in 1971, by J & W Chester, priced £2.50.

Reception

The main critical contention of the Symphony No.3 is its concentration of material and the subtle balance between aggression and introspection. This work is far removed from the expansive First (1940) and Fourth Symphonies (1978). The utilisation of Berkeley’s own version of serialism has given it ‘a greater urgency without sacrificing [its] lyrical qualities.’ (Dickinson, Peter, Lyrita SRCD.226 liner note). As cited in Tony Scotland’s Lennox and Freda (2010, p.431) Berkeley regarded serialism as ‘useful as a means of developing musical ideas.’

Before the concert, Michael Berkeley contributed a detailed discussion of the Symphony No.3 to The Listener (3 July 1969). Berkeley (fils) puts his father’s new work into context. The Symphony still ‘carries the marks of a style that is intricate and subtle, rather than grand or declamatory...’ Contrariwise, there is no resemblance, either formally or stylistically, to the Symphonies No.1 and No.2. The present work is characterised by ‘a broadening of the emotional range,’ and ‘a stricter economy of material’ which was first seen in the one-act opera Castaway (1967). It is striking for the use of thematic development prevalent in that work.  In like manner, the ‘adventurous and striking’ scoring was apparent in the Magnificat (1968). Although Debussy, Fauré, Ravel and Poulenc are in ‘evidence’ in Berkeley’s music, it has been ‘severely censured, and directed into a private channel that now, more than ever, has its own individuality.’ It has become a ‘very personal’ style which is never ‘sensational.’  The remainder of the article was largely redrafted into the premiere’s programme notes.

The Birmingham Post (11 July 1969) reviewer K.W. Dommett reported that Berkeley’s Symphony in One Movement ‘is a model of clarity of the kind commonly associated with the other side of the channel.’ This repeats the commonly held view that Berkeley is a Francophone composer. On the other hand, he is inclined to believe that it has ‘a quiet, distinctive Englishness’ which is difficult to define. Dommett picks up on the monothematic construction of the Symphony and reiterates the programme notes’ statement that the material for all three sections of the work is derived from the ‘triadic motto heard at the outset.’ This is based on six notes from the chords D minor and B major.  This critic feels that Berkeley’s ‘manipulation of this material is most ingenious, and the scoring is felicitous throughout.’ Yet, there is a down side: ‘the final impression is of a polite dissertation delivered in impeccable style, but without much inner conviction.’ An example of this disinterestedness is noted in the slow middle section, where ‘the succession of ascending and descending figures fails to generate any real tension, or to convey any true sense of inevitability.’ In contradistinction to Dommett, I find this ‘section’ one of the most magical parts of the whole Symphony.

The Guardian gave two reviews of the Lennox Berkeley premiere. Edward Greenfield (10 July 1969) began by noting the ‘sterling work’ done by the Cheltenham Festival in commissioning new symphonies from British composers. He understands that Berkeley’s Symphony stands in the Cheltenham Tradition and is ‘highly professional’ albeit having a ‘safe’ approach to formal structure. He suggests that it was written with French orchestral players in mind, hence the ‘strong and dramatic first performance’ under the baton of Jean Martinon. Greenfield felt that the Symphony was actually ‘more refined and French sounding’ than the Roussel Piano Concerto. Berkeley’s ‘lessons’ with Nadia Boulanger were ‘well learnt.’ 

I think that this is a fair assessment. I disagree with his assertion that the slow middle section ‘is disappointingly lacking in rhythmic interest’: this sounds ‘impressionistic,’ and most contributes to the undeniable Gallic mood.

Peter Heyworth (The Guardian 13 July 1969) gave an overview of the recent Cheltenham Festival. Commenting on Berkeley’s Third Symphony, he remarked that the composer ‘uses the well-tried device of a single movement that embraces three sharply defined sub-movements…[and] does so with undeniable mastery.’ It produces a work where ‘the argument is unfailingly coherent; the sound is full and lucid and nicely varied.’ On the other hand, Heyworth wonders if the Symphony ‘seem[s] to emerge from pre-packaged formulas’ generated over a 150-year period. Berkeley’s ‘take’ on this tradition is to create a piece that ‘is a well-turned piece of precision machinery.’ In his view, this contrasts with Peter Maxwell Davies’s ‘harsh, angular and sometimes awkward…attempt to take possession of a new world of feeling and experience…’ in his remarkable St. Thomas Wake, foxtrot for orchestra on a pavan by John Bull, J. 78.

Martin Cooper (The Daily Telegraph, 10 July 1969) understands that Berkeley has created a symphony that upholds many of the traditions of ‘strict intellectual coherence and fundamental unity…that mark symphonic thinking.’ Like all the critics, he has read Michael Berkeley’s programme note. Cooper notes ‘the clash of tonalities in the opening bars is effectively the works germ or motto’ which is often reprised either explicitly or ‘lightly disguised.’ He recalls ‘openly lyrical sections’ such as the 5/8 ‘meno vivo’ which is introduced by three flutes...’ This is a ‘happy…memory of a French musical upbringing.’ Another lyrical moment is the ‘full-throated Lento with its contrast of woodwind and divided strings…’ Cooper’s only censure refers to the ‘excessive reliance on two-bar (question and answer) structures’ in the final Allegro. This, he feels, is ‘another legacy from the French school and more remotely from the Russians.’ The performance under Jean Martinon was ‘boldly eloquent and well-nuanced.’

After reviewing Alun Hoddinott’s ‘succinct and closely woven’ Sinfonietta No.2, op.67 (1969) Robert Henderson Musical Times (September 1969) reported that:

‘Perhaps even more compact and economical [than the Hoddinott] was the…specially commissioned Symphony in one movement of Lennox Berkeley.  Again, its three interlocking sections are each vividly defined in mood and colour but create a firm sense of inner coherence. For all three are based on the same simple conflict between one major and one minor triad, a conflict that is treated with considerable variety and resource, but with a deliberate concentration of thought and a typically Gallic lucidity of texture and expression.’

It seems that this ‘Gallic’ connection is always brought to the fore.  Henderson added that Berkeley’s Symphony ‘sounded amiable, optimistic in tone and even rather benign in the presence of Peter Maxwell Davies's challenging and much more pessimistic St Thomas Wake.’  

Kenneth Dommett (see above) also contributed a review to the now lamented Music and Musicians (September 1969) where he reported that of all the ‘novelties’ presented at the Festival, the Berkeley ‘remains freshest in the memory.’ This is because of ‘the assurance of its workmanship and the skill with which the composer manipulated his two basic triads and constructed from them a symphonic movement that, apart from the attenuations [weakening] of the slow middle section, was concisely argued.’ Alas, Dommett’s final comment seemed to go against what he had already said: it has ‘somehow failed to carry conviction is its principal source of failure - although that is a relative term.’ Nevertheless, it remains the only Symphony from 1969 that remains (tentatively) in the repertoire.

Finally, E.M. Webster (Musical Opinion, September 1969) was enthused by the new Symphony. He reminded the reader that the concert on Wednesday 9 July ‘was largely a French evening’, and that ‘it was a gala occasion with royalty and civic dignitaries present...’ Webster felt that the music ‘was suitably sparkling.’ Turning to the Berkeley premiere, he began by suggesting that ‘one has come to regard Berkeley as a composer of gentle etchings and sly pastiche.’ However, this symphony reveals him in ‘stronger mood’ and ‘at last he permits certain fierce emotional impetus to dominate his tightly-conceived construction.’ It is ‘much tougher and more forthright…than is usual from this composer’s sensitive pen.’

Webster picks up on one of the key attributes of the Symphony. Despite the ‘six-note series’, the ‘argument progresses towards traditional tonality rather than away from it.’ He describes its progress:

‘After a sharp, clear cut opening statement, the conflict builds up to a restless, unresolved tension (with warring major and minor chording) and leads into a contrapuntal slow section in which there is some poignant and deep-centred lyric feeling. The third section is brought in by a massive orchestral exclamation and some swift excitable string scurries punctuated by fierce, orchestral tutti chords. But here the impetus unexpectedly slackens, and the orchestration becomes a trifle diffuse and fussy. However, a powerful climax ensues which brings back some of the strength that was lost, and the work ends with a fairly obvious and cheerful reconciliation.’

Webster reports that the French orchestra ‘had clearly taken trouble over [the Symphony] so that it came over clear and strong.’

In conclusion, a few years ago (27 November 1990) in an interview with Peter Dickinson (2012, p.266) Michael Berkeley stated: ‘…the Third Symphony is very powerful because it’s muscular and taut. At that time, I was working a little bit with him and I can remember trying to tempt him to push out even further. I suggested the side-drum rim shot [a drum stroke in which the stick strikes the rim and the head of the drum simultaneously] on the last chord.’  

It makes an effective ‘coda’ to an absorbing symphony.

Bibliography:

Craggs, Stewart R., Lennox Berkeley: A Source Book (Ashgate, Aldershot, 2000)

Dickinson, Peter, The Music of Lennox Berkeley (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 1988/2003)

Ed. Dickinson, Peter, Lennox Berkeley and Friends: Writings Letters and Interviews (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 2012)

Powell, Anthony, Journal 1982-1986 (Heinemann, London, 1995)

Scotland, Tony, Lennox and Freda, (Michael Russell, Norwich, 2010)

The files of Birmingham Post, Daily Telegraph, The Guardian, Music and Musicians, Musical Opinion, The Musical Times, The Listener, The Radio Times, The Times.

Dickinson, Peter, Liner Notes for Lyrita, SRCD 226

Discography:

Lennox Berkeley: Symphony No 3 in one movement, op 74, London Philharmonic Orchestra/Lennox Berkeley/ (includes Elizabeth Maconchy’s Proud Thames Overture, Geoffrey Bush’s Music (1967) for orchestra and William Alwyn’s Four Elizabethan Dances, from the set of six) Lyrita SRCS.57 (LP) (1972). Symphony reissued on CD Lyrita SRCD.226 (1992)

Lennox Berkeley: Symphony No 3 in one movement, op 74 BBC National Orchestra of Wales/Richard Hickox (includes Sinfonia Concertante and Michael Berkeley: Oboe Concerto and Secret Garden) Chandos CHAN 10022 (2002)

Appendix 1

Listed here are works commissioned or premiered at the 1969 Cheltenham Festival. Some of these have been recorded and others can be found (accessed January 2019) on YouTube. Apart from Berkeley’s Symphony and Peter Maxwell Davies’s St. Thomas Wake, foxtrot none seem to have established more than a toe-hold in the repertoire half a century later. Several have simply disappeared.

Lennox Berkeley: Three Pieces for organ, op.72 no.1 (first complete performance)

Lennox Berkeley: Symphony No.3 in one movement, op.74 (Festival Commission)

André Boucourechliev: Archipel II for string quartet (British Premiere)

Brian Brockless: Fantasia, Adagio and Fugue for organ (Commissioned by Sir Arthur Bliss)

Alan Bush: Time Remembered, op.67

Tristram Cary: Continuum (Festival Commission)

David Cox: Out of Doors, for a cappella choir

Peter Maxwell Davies: St Thomas Wake- Foxtrot for orchestra (British Premiere)

Jonathan Harvey: Laus Deo, for organ

Alun Hoddinott: Sinfonietta no.2, op.67 (Festival Commission)

Heinz Holliger: Mobile for oboe and harp (British Premiere)

Gordon Jacob Suite for bassoon and string quartet

Andre Jolivet: Controversia for oboe and harp (British Premiere)

Daniel Jones: The Ballad of the Standard Bearer, for tenor and piano

John Metcalf: Chorales and Variants (Festival Commission)

Jiri Smutny: Two Pieces for oboe and harp

Christopher Steel: Anthem 'O Praise the Lord of Heaven' (Special Commission)

Karlheinz Stockhausen: Spiral, for oboe and radio (British Premiere)

Appendix 2

Most commentators assumed that by 1969 the Symphony would have been dead. It would have been replaced by free-form works as promulgated by the leading composers of the avant-garde.

In fact, the year 1969 saw at least 10 British, Commonwealth or Émigré symphonies composed, completed or performed:

Benjamin Frankel: Symphony No.5

David Barlow: Symphony No.2

Wilfred Joseph: Symphony No.3, op.59 ‘Philadelphia’

Roberto Gerhard: Chamber Symphony ‘Leo’

Alun Hoddinott: Symphony No.4, op.70

George Lloyd: Symphony No.9 (premiere Manchester, Dec 1982)

Raymond Warren: Symphony No.2

Malcolm Williamson: Symphony No.2

Oliver Knussen: Symphony in One Movement (revised 2002)

Lennox Berkeley: Symphony No.3 in one movement, op 74

It is a sad fact that virtually all of these have disappeared from the current symphonic repertoire. Fortunately, about half of them have been recorded.

With thanks to the Lennox Berkeley Society who first published this essay.

Lennox Berkeley: Overture in B flat (1959) Part II

The Overture is urbane in sound. Although there are a couple of good tunes, the overall impact is one of 1950s film music. This is no criticism. The main theme is busy, scuttering and quite suggestive of a quick stroll along Piccadilly or Oxford Street on a summer’s evening. The harmonies are bright, imaginative and softly dissonant. Certainly, the final subject is a powerful, romantic tune the I wish would last much longer. The orchestration is marvellous. Berkeley has written a score that sparkles from start to finish, with just one or two reflective moments. It may not be ‘light music’ in the manner of Eric Coates, Trevor Duncan or Ron Goodwin but this vibrant little Overture has all the joie-de-vivre that one expects of music that is designed to be enjoyed rather than analysed.

The Listener 9 July 1959 reported on the Fifth Concert. Scott Goddard reminded the reader that ‘two new overtures commissioned for the Light Music Festival made their appearance on Saturday evening.’ He began with Gordon Jacob’s Fun Fare which ‘is what the title suggests, the kind of fare one expects from this composer who knows as much as any musician working at present in this country the fun to be got from making a completely expert orchestral score and from expressing high spirits in a few ideas dressed out in gay, extrovert music. This is a display piece: it shows off an orchestra’s virtuosity and well played as it was this evening, it is an amusing experience for connoisseurs of that sort of entertainment.’ I include this critique of Jacob’s overture, as I guess it has been forgotten, but based on the review it deserves an occasional outing.

Turning to the Berkeley offering, Goddard writes: ‘[this] new piece, which followed [the Jacob] after half an hour’s mixed bill, is baldly styled An Overture and thus gives no clear clue to its intentions. Not unexpectedly it is finer line-drawing that the Gordon Jacob work and also less immediately warming. The brow is worn a millimetre higher. For sheer craftsmanship in technique of orchestral display there is nothing to choose between the two.’

The Daily Telegraph (6 July 1959) reviewer John Warrack was not over-impressed by the concert overall. He writes: ‘Light music’s peril is that is may remain stuck in a kind of no-man’s land halfway between ‘straight’ music and commercial slush’ and citing the poet Francis Thompson he suggests that it may be ‘pitched between Heaven and Charing Cross Road...’  Warrack makes the interesting suggestion that ‘all real composers ought to be able to produce light music…’ If only that were the case. Remarking on Jacob’s Fun Fare Overture he thinks that it is ‘an expert job’ with one drawback. It ‘spends its time getting ready for the first-rate comedy piece it always seems about to turn into and then abruptly stops.’

I think that his view of the Berkeley is interesting. He considers that the music displays ‘a private friendliness rather than public entertainment.’ This is a good description of the composer’s music in general: it is always suave and polished, no matter the genre.

On the other hand, Warrack believes that Berkeley can ‘produce a couple of broad tunes, and he attacks the light music problems in his own terms – the only ones for an honest artist.’ As for the rest of the concert, he enjoyed the suite from Porgy and Bess ‘admirably sung by Heather Harper and John Hauxvell.’ It made him long to see the opera again. The Multi-Colourtone Electronic Instrument did not impress him: ‘New sounds are not compulsory.’ The device ‘imitated some organ tones and ingeniously produced a range of amazing nasty sounds of its own.’ John Warrack must be glad that he did not live on the 21^st century with its plethora of electronic synthesizers and keyboard.

There is clearly a strong argument for a definitive modern recording to be made of both Berkeley and Jacob’s Overtures.

Lennox Berkeley’s Overture in B flat can be heard on You Tube. The score is currently published by Chester’s.

Lennox Berkeley: Overture in B flat (1959) Part I

Search the texts books relating to Sir Lennox Berkeley (1903-89) and you will find virtually nothing about his delightful Overture in B flat. Even the major study of the composer’s music by Peter Dickinson (1988/2003) does not mention it.

In 2017 the Lennox Berkeley Society posted a link to a YouTube (see end of essay) recording originally made on 25 April 1983 from Radio 3. It was part of Matinee Musicale broadcast at 14.05. The Ulster Orchestra was conducted by Marcus Dodds. Other works in this programme included Felix Mendelssohn’s Overture: A Midsummer Night's Dream, Peter Ilych Tchaikovsky’s March and Waltz form the Nutcracker Suite, Edward Elgar’s Canto Popolare (In Moonlight), Karl-Heinz Koper’s Musik zur Unterhaltung (Music for Entertainment) and concluded with Samuel Coleridge-Taylor’s Ballade in A minor. These last two numbers seem to have disappeared from the repertoire, although there is a recording of the Ballade. (ARGO 436 401-2, 1993)

The year 1959 was an interesting one for Lennox Berkeley. On 11 February he conducted the premiere of his Concerto for piano and double string orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall. The soloist was Colin Horsley. The premiere of Berkeley’s Symphony No.2 was given at Birmingham Town Hall with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra conducted by Andrzej Panufnik on 24 February. Other first performances that year included the Five Poems of W.H. Auden completed the previous year and the Sonatina for two pianos.

The Overture in B flat was commissioned by the BBC for the Light Music Festival of 1959. The work was dedicated to Vilem and Peggy Tausky. In that year there were only four BBC commissions: the present Overture, Alun Hoddinott’s Nocturne and Dance for harp and orchestra, Gordon Jacob’s Overture: Fun Fare, Andrzej Panufnik’s Polonia, a suite of Polish Dances, and Cecil Armstrong Gibbs Suite of Traditional Songs. All five works have disappeared into oblivion. We are lucky to have the 1983 radio recording of the Berkeley and the CPO recording of Polonia.

Berkeley began work on his Overture in B flat during April 1959. According to the ‘chronology’ (Craggs, 2000) it was completed on 1 June, after which the composer went on a tour of Italy, visiting Rome and Assisi. The overture is scored for 2 each flutes, oboe, clarinet and bassoon, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani, percussion, harp and strings.

The premiere performance was given at the Royal Festival Hall on 4 July 1959 with the BBC Concert Orchestra conducted by Vilem Tausky. It was the fifth concert in the Light Music Festival Series, sponsored by the BBC and the London County Council.

This was a rather strange concert. The Radio Times (26 June 1959) billed it ‘A Commonwealth Programme’ with a tribute to the USA. There were three new works presented. Berkeley’s Overture, Gordon Jacob’s Fun Fare Overture and two movements from ‘Spike’ Hughes’ Serenade. Two more movements of this latter work were subsequently produced.  Other pieces included a Suite from George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess conducted by William Byrd, and a variety of music played on a Multi-Colourtone Electronic Instrument by William Davies. There were some movements from Hubert Clifford’s Cowes Suite, conducted by the composer. This was introduced to the audience by Uffa Fox, (1898-1972) the yachtsman and boat builder.  The harmonica player Tommy Reilly presented ‘Marching and Waltzing’ with the orchestra. Arthur Sullivan’s ‘March of the Peers’ was played by the military band and trumpeters. The concert concluded with a Grand Finale of Songs of the British Isles.
Lennox Berkeley’s Overture in B flat can be heard on You Tube. 

Bibliography:

Craggs, Stewart R., Lennox Berkeley: A Source Book (Ashgate, Aldershot, 2000)

Dickinson, Peter, The Music of Lennox Berkeley (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 1988/2003

The reviews of this concert will be featured in my next post. 

So Many Stars: Sonatinas for violin and piano

I began my exploration of this fascinating CD with the last work, William Alwyn’s Sonatina for violin and piano. This was composed in 1933 when Alwyn was 28 years of age. It was first heard two years later in the Duke’s Hall at the Royal Academy of Music as part of a series of concerts featuring new music.  The work received a premiere recording on Naxos (8.570340) in 2007 and was not published until 2010.  The Sonatina is presented (like all the works on this CD) in three movements. The opening ‘allegro e grazioso’ is a delight. This has a memorable main tune, with an equally unforgettable ‘prelude-like’ piano part. The contrasting mood is wistful. There is certainly a touch of the French muse about this music. The middle ‘adagio’ is more pensive and reserved than might be expected in a sonatina. It is brittle and unruffled without being too intense. The finale is exciting, combining a waltz, a gigue and lots of rhythmic variety. The entre work is a subtle balance between Alwyn’s natural penchant for romantic music and a more neo-classical mood.

Like many listeners of my generation, I first came across Jean Françaix in the 1970s when a movement from his delightful ‘L’Horloge’ for oboe and orchestra introduced Robin Ray’s Review on Radio 3. (I am sure I am correct about this, but I could be wrong!). Since then, I have only come across a handful of pieces from his pen. I think his style was basically neo-classicist with a modern twist: he did not indulge in avant-garde explorations. Most of the works that I have heard are characterised by fun, vibrancy, wit and some nods to a deeper and sadder mood. In fact, as a composer he is right up my street: I should spend more time getting to know hum.

The present Violin Sonatina is a case in point. This is an urbane work that has all the above-mentioned characteristics. The opening ‘vivace’ is vibrant, ‘sparky’ and almost tearaway in its headlong progress. The second movement alternates violin and piano interludes. It is reflective and ultimately ‘blue’. However, all the vibrancy is restored with an idiosyncratic theme and variations. Jean Françaix’s Sonatine was composed in 1934.

I turned to the opening track, the Violin Sonatina by Lennox Berkeley. This was written in 1943 and was dedicated to Gladys Bryans with whom the composer and his friend Benjamin Britten had stayed whilst on a working ‘holiday’ in Gloucestershire. This is a piece that is approachable, despite being written in what was then a relatively modern style. Berkeley has used a standard ‘sonata’ form in the opening ‘moderato’. The two subjects are easy going with nearly all the drama being presented in the development section. All this, in just under five minutes. I enjoyed the brief ‘lento’ which presents a pensive theme which is quickly developed into a considerable climax. All ends as it started. The finale is an absorbing theme with five variations which present complex mood changes. This includes a charming tune, a scherzetto and a quirky waltz. The movement ends peacefully with a recapitulation of the original theme.

Cheryl Francis-Hoad’s Violin Sonatina began life as a cello work she wrote in 2011 called ‘Songs and Dances.’ The liner notes explain that the composer has reversed the usual progress of fast-slow-fast movements in a sonatina to give a slow-fast-slow structure. The opening is played ‘quietly dignified’ and lives up is descriptions. In fact, this is slow, reserved and introverted music that certainly does provide ‘space and grandeur.’ The ‘scherzo’ on the other hand is a little piercing on the ears due to considerable use of violin harmonics. Fortunately, the ‘trio’ section comes back down to earth. The ‘finale’ largely recaptures the reticent mood of the opening movement. The entire work is characterised by rhythmic diversity and a rather tentative (deliberate) exploration of the material by both performers. On the other hand, the Sonatina closes with a massive coda and a resounding C major chord.  Notwithstanding the ‘harmonics’ I enjoyed this work and appreciated its imagination and thoughtfulness. Despite the title, this 16-minute work is a powerful, dynamic and often moving contribution to the violin and piano repertoire. For information on Cheryl Francis-Hoad, see her excellent website.

I know very little of Jean Sibelius’s chamber music. Just glancing at the catalogue suggests that there is plenty to have a go at. I guess that my listening has concentrated on his seven symphonies and evocative tone-poems. The present Violin Sonatina began life as a Sonata. His diary for Christmas Day explains that the idea had been with him for several years, in fact, since the 1880s when he had produced a couple of examples of the larger genre. The present work was completed three months later. The composer wrote that working on the piece reminded him of his youthful imaginings: ‘Dreamed I was twelve years old and a virtuoso. My childhood sky was full of stars – so many stars.’ This is reflected in music that is predominantly classical in form, but not necessarily harmonically. Despite the bright key (E major) chosen for this piece, the musical language can be unsmiling in places. The middle movement is serious and reflects the difficulties, both financially and artistically that Sibelius was facing at this time. Yet, the finale blows all this sadness away. After a morose ‘lento’ the music turns to dance which seems to be a return to winter dreams, jingling sleigh bells and all.

I first came across Gordon Crosse in 1973. I found a review copy of his impressive choral piece Changes. It had been released on an old Argo LP (ZRG-656, now re-released on Lyrita SRCD.259, 2007). Since then, I have tried to hear as much of his music as possible, although that has been quite difficult as there are relatively few CDs available and I have rarely come across his work in the concert hall. (Although do look at Soundcloud/Crosse)

The present Violin Sonatina is dedicated to the present soloist, Fenella Humphreys. It was written after Crosse had heard her play and it arrived on her ‘doormat’ two weeks later. I understand that he mined discarded works for some of the material. The opening movement contrasts slow music with ‘dramatic and confident’ passages. The effect is edgy and nervous. This is followed by a ‘lament’ which explores a ‘Scottish’ theme on the solo violin, soon followed by a ‘chilled’ walking bass piano part. The third movement, ‘Caprice-Finale’ was derived from a piece for recorder and piano which had ruminated on Emily Dickinson’s poem ‘Hope is a thing with feathers…’ This is a balance between uneasy, high pitched violin phrases and a slightly more relaxed piano part.

Gordon Crosse is a composer who appeals to me: his music is sometimes challenging and always fascinating. This Violin Sonatina is no exception.

The playing by Fenella Humphreys (violin) and Nicola Eimer (piano) is superb. I can well understand why Crosse was so impressed. The recording of these six sonatinas is ideal. The liner notes, written by Nicola Eimer gives all the required details to aid enjoyment. There is brief biographical note about the soloists. I did find the font a bit small and needed my magnifying glass. I was unable to find a .pdf file online: if only all record companies would oblige us with this important, but often ignored service.

Finally, this is a well-chosen selection of music. I enjoyed every piece, and hope that the duo will revisit the British (and French) repertoire soon.

Track Listing:

Lennox BERKELEY (1903-89) Sonatina for violin and piano, op.17 (1942)

Jean FRANCAIX (1912-97) Sonatine for violin and piano (1934)

Cheryl Frances-HOAD (b.1980) Sonatina for violin and piano (2011)

Jean SIBELIUS (1865-1957) Sonatina in E major, op.80 (1915)

Gordon CROSSE (b.1937) Sonatina for violin and piano (2010)

William ALWYN (1905-85) Sonatina for violin and piano (1933)

Fenella Humphreys (violin), Nicola Eimer (piano)

STONE RECORDS 5060192780826 

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Lennox Berkeley: Six Preludes for piano, op.23 (1944): The Premiere – Radio Broadcast

As mentioned in my previous post, Lennox Berkeley’s Six Preludes for piano, op.23 (1944) was first heard during a recorded broadcast on the BBC Third Programme which had begun broadcasting on 29 September 1946.  The recital had been recorded on the 7 July.

The Radio Times (11 July 1947) gave due notice of the recital. It was the first in a series of Contemporary British Composers due to be broadcast in 13 July at 7.00pm.  Other concerts would follow, dedicated to the music of diverse composers including Elisabeth Lutyens, Humphrey Searle, Patrick Hadley and Herbert Howells.

British pianist, critic and composer Harold Rutland (1900-77) provided a short introduction to the recital (and the series) which was printed in the Radio Times:

“The first programme of this new series is devoted to music by Lennox Berkeley, a composer who is recognised as possessing gifts of no common order. His work has style and imagination and a fine, clear texture that recalls certain eighteenth-century masters He was born in 1903 and studied in Paris under Nadia Boulanger.”

Several Berkeley works featured in the 13 July programme. The recital opened with the String Trio, op.19 composed in 1943 and dedicated to Frederick Grinke, Watson Forbes and James Phillips. This Trio bears a stylistic tension between a Gallic influence and nods to Mozart. It was played by the London String Trio.

This was followed by Berkeley’s Six Preludes, op.23 played by Swiss pianist Albert Ferber (1911-87).

Sophie Wyss (1897-1983), also from Switzerland, sang several songs including ‘D’un vanneur de ble aux vents’, (1924, rev.1925) the ‘Ode du premier jour de mai’ no.2 from Five Songs, op. 14 (1940) and ‘The Low Lands of Holland’ (1947).  They are settings of texts by Joachim du Bellay, Jean Passerat and the final number an anonymous folk song. Wyss was accompanied by the composer. Only the first two of these songs have been recorded – (CHAN 10528).

The final work in this imaginative review of Lennox Berkeley’s music was the Viola Sonata, op.22. This powerful piece was composed in 1945 at the end of the Second World War and certainly reflects the mood, stresses and strains of the period. However, it is not in any way negative: neither is it unremitting aggression or blatant ‘war-music.’

The Viola Sonata was given its first performance by its dedicatee Watson Forbes, the violist and the pianist Denise Lassimoine on 3 May 1946.  At the BBC Concert the it was performed by Watson Forbes and Alan Richardson.

Lennox Berkeley: Six Preludes for piano, op.23 (1944)

Lennox Berkeley’s Six Preludes are some of the most performed and recorded works in his catalogue. There are at least 11 recordings of this work available, including those by Colin Horsley, Margaret Fingerhut and Len Vorster. This attention is certainly well justified. These Preludes are excellent examples of the ‘Gallic’-influenced style that permeated Berkeley’s works. Certainly, Poulenc never seems to be far way – and the spirit of Chopin is pervasive.

These Preludes were originally devised as ‘interludes’ to be used by the BBC on ‘under-running’ programmes. They were composed in 1944 for Val Drewry, who at that time was producing the BBC’s chamber music programmes. Unfortunately, these pieces were never used.

The first prelude is ‘toccata-like’ with ‘horns of elf-land’ predominating in the melodic pattern. This is intricate music that balances romanticism with a neo-classical perfection. The second is a brooding essay where, although the melody asserts itself it seems to be shrouded in the dark. We are back in the classical world with the third prelude which is full of a bubbling vitality: it is like a mountain stream. The fourth is a Valse Triste which could almost, but not quite, be played in the piano bar of the Savoy Hotel. It is certainly not pastiche – but it is a beautifully crafted exercise in writing a waltz. Number 5 had been described as a ‘whistling tune’ which suggests gaiety. Yet there is something darker in the middle section of this prelude. The last is in the form of a lullaby – and a ‘baby sings the blues’ one too. Perhaps this is the most memorable of the six?

These preludes are always approachable without being musically patronising or condescending.

The first broadcast performance was on the new BBC Third Programme on 13 July 1947 by the pianist Albert Ferber. This was a recording that had been made six days previously at the Concert Hall of Broadcasting House. The first public performance was at the Wigmore Hall on 29 October 1947, ostensibly by the pianist Eric Hope. Alas, Hope fainted at the keyboard just before starting the third Prelude. Lennox Berkeley, who was in the audience was called upon to complete the set.

In 1949, Colin Horsley made the first recording of the Six Preludes for HMV (C3940). It was a successful venture.

Lennox Berkeley: Donald Brook’s Pen-Portrait from 'Composer's Gallery' Part II

The continuation of Donald Brook's pen portrait of Lennox Berkeley published in his book Composers Gallery. 

Berkeley had a suite of Catalan dances, Mont Juic, accepted for the festival of the International Society for Contemporary Music [I.S.C.M.] at Barcelona in 1936, and it was there that he first met Benjamin Britten. [1] The two young composers found much in common and have been great friends ever since.

One of Berkeley's best efforts is the music he wrote to Frederick Ashton's ballet The Judgement of Paris, which was produced at Sadler's Wells in the early summer of 1938. Shortly afterwards his setting of the psalm ‘Domini est terra’ was given its premiere at an I.S.C.M. Festival [2] and repeated in September 1938 at the Gloucester Festival. [3]

Since 1935 Berkeley has resided in England, though before the outbreak of the Second World War he made frequent visits to Paris. He at present holds a position on the BBC Music Staff,

to which he was appointed in 1942. [4]

Due perhaps to his French training, he is a great believer in clarity and economy in composition and dislikes the dry intellectual style one finds in what is commonly called ‘composer's music,’ although in my opinion some of his own works have a strong tendency in that direction.

His Symphony, for instance, which was first performed at a Promenade concert in 1943, [5] and which is undoubtedly one of the most important of his recent works, is an interesting but rather discordant effort which abounds with intellectual chatter, entertaining though it may be. Rather more effective are his various piano works, for his percussive style seems more at home on the keyboard. Lennox Berkeley has a deep love for the classics and believes that one's form and technique should always be based on that of the great masters. Mozart is his ‘model’ composer. He is

interested in film music and has written for two productions himself: Hotel Reserve (1944), [6] and Out of Chaos, [7] a documentary film about the lives of the war artists, made in the same year.

Among other recent works we find his Serenade for string orchestra, first performed by the Boyd Neel ensemble in 1940; Sonatina for violin and piano, composed for Max Rostal [8] in 1942; a String Trio, written for the Grinke ensemble in 1943; Divertimento for orchestra, commissioned by the BBC (1943); the Piano Sonata (1945); and the Sonatina for viola and piano written for Watson Forbes [9] in the same year.

Donald Brook, Composer’s Gallery (London, Rockcliff, 1944)

Notes:

[1] Brook omits to mention that the Mont Juic Suite was a joint effort between Lennox Berkeley and Benjamin Britten. When first performed, the composers did not reveal which who wrote what in this four-movement work. Years later, Lennox Berkeley revealed to composer and musicologist Peter Dickinson that he had composed the first two movement and Britten the last two. The four movements are ‘Andante maestoso’; ‘Allegro grazioso’; ‘Lament: Andante moderato’ ("Barcelona, July 1936") and ‘Allegro molto’. Both collaborated in the work’s orchestration.

[2] The premiere of Domini est Terra (The Earth is the Lord’) op.10 was given at the Queen’s Hall during the opening concert of the 16^th I.S.C.M. Festival in London on 17 June 1938.

[3] Domini est Terra was heard again at the Three Choirs Festival, in Worcester Cathedral (not Gloucester, as stated in Brook’s Portrait) on 8 September 1938.

[4] Berkeley worked as an ‘orchestral programme planner.’

[5] Berkeley’s Symphony No.1, op.16 was premiered at the Royal Albert Hall, London on 8 July 1943. The London Philharmonic Orchestra was conducted by the composer.

[6] Hotel Reserve (1944) is ‘British spy thriller somewhat in the mould of 1930s Hitchcock thrillers like The Lady Vanishes. It combines suspense, some tongue-in-cheek comedy and a little romance.’ (Classic Movie Ramblings blog, 8 Jun 2010). It starred James Mason, Louise Mannheim and Charles Lom.

[7] Out of Chaos (1944) featured Anthony Gross, Kenneth Clark, Stanley Spencer, as well as Henry Moore’s drawings of London Underground during bombing raids. It is available to watch at the British Film Institute website.

[8] Max Rostal (1905 1991) was an Austrian-born violinist and a viola player. He later took British citizenship.

[9] Watson Forbes (1909-1997) was a Scottish-born violist and classical music arranger. Between 1964 and 1974 he was Head of Music for BBC Scotland.

Lennox Berkeley: Donald Brook’s Pen-Portrait from 'Composer's Gallery' Part I

Lennox Berkeley Society

Donald Brook wrote a series of books presenting attractive short studies or pen-portraits of a wide variety of musicians and authors. Sir Granville Bantock endorsed Composer’s Gallery by insisting that it ‘will be welcomed by music lovers and the larger public throughout the civilised world.’ Clearly, he had met many of these people and had a chance to speak to them about their achievements and interests.

On a personal note, this was one of the earliest books about music that I bought (second-hand) in the days before the internet: it served as my introduction to a wide-range of composers and their music. 

Clearly, this study was written around 1943/4 when Berkeley was 40 years old. He lived until 1989, so many significant compositions lay in the future. This included three more symphonies, four completed operas and several concertos. He married Freda Bernstein in 1946.

I include several footnotes to Brook’s pen-portrait of Lennox Berkeley and made some minor edits to the text. 

LENNOX BERKELEY, I feel, is something of an enigma, and one cannot help wondering what place he will take in modern English music in the years to come. He was born at Boar's Hill, Oxford, on May 12^th, 1903, and there is nothing of unusual musical interest in the details of his childhood. His parents possessed no musical ability, but his father, a naval officer, was sufficiently interested in the art to buy a pianola and an enormous library of rolls. It was by this mechanical means that Berkeley's interest in music was aroused during his early childhood.

At Gresham's School, Holt, and St. George's School, Harpenden, he learned to play the piano, but when he proceeded to Merton College, Oxford, he had no intention of making music his profession. He had only the vaguest ideas concerning his future career. He read modern languages, took his B.A., coxed the Eight, [1] and so forth; in fact, his University career was of the pleasantly conventional type enjoyed by the sons of those in comfortable circumstances. Music was an agreeable spare time activity taken rather seriously, it is true, but it was not until

he came down from Oxford in 1926 that he entertained the idea of making it his career. Then, however, the urge to devote himself entirely to the art impressed itself, and he went to Paris for six years to study with Nadia Boulanger. [2]

Residence in Paris [3] brought him wonderful opportunities of enjoying the company of the sort of people whose companionship, in small doses, can be an exhilarating stimulus to any artist intent upon finding his own soul and expressing it in his own way. His studies of counterpoint, fugue and orchestration were done in the congenial company of such dynamic young men as Aaron Copland and Roy Harris, whom we shall meet later in this book. Then there were occasional meetings with composers who had already established themselves or at least made a stir among the critics: Poulenc and Honegger, for instance; and with the two who exerted a dominating influence upon his development as a student, Maurice Ravel and Igor Stravinsky.

Lennox Berkeley admits that he owes much to Ravel; he knew him quite well and received from him advice that has proved of great value in more recent years. The eminent composer was always extremely kind, and most willing to scrutinize and comment upon Berkeley's early works chiefly compositions of an immature nature which he has now withdrawn. Ravel, he tells me, was always very strict on technical efficiency, and thought that most of the young people trying to compose at that time were too amateurish too keen to dabble in music without troubling to master its technicalities. Incidentally, Nadia Boulanger was always most insistent that her pupils should have a thorough grounding in the classics before attempting to write on modern lines.

Berkeley also acknowledges with gratitude the guidance he received from Stravinsky, [4] whose acquaintance he enjoyed during the latter part of his Parisian days, so that this composer's influence came rather later than that of Ravel. He is a great admirer of Stravinsky's works, some more than others, of course and strongly disagrees with the little group of critics who ridicule the superficiality of them. Few composers, he feels, have been more completely misunderstood than Stravinsky.

When he left Paris, he was obliged to take his invalid mother to the Riviera for a period of two years, and it was during this time that he drew attention to himself as a composer with his Violin Sonata [No.2 in D, op.1] (1933), a work more mature and original than anything he had hitherto produced. At about that time, too, his Oratorio Jonah was written, a more ambitious effort first performed at a BBC concert of contemporary music in 1936 and repeated at the Leeds Festival in 1937. [4] The influence of Stravinsky is apparent in this work, and that perhaps explains why the English listener, rather a conservative fellow when it comes to oratorio, found it difficult to appreciate. Describing the Leeds performance in the Musical Times [5] Herbert Thompson wrote:

‘It is a work almost aggressively modernistic in character and is not easily followed by those who have been accustomed to regard emotion as an essential characteristic in music. For this quality, pattern alone is an inadequate substitute, and though one may somewhat regretfully realize that, as the Romantic period has had a long innings, the wave of fashion is bound to bring along something very different in its wake, one is none the less inclined to wonder whether this intellectual music is likely to retain a place in history. If so, it implies a revolution in aesthetics.’

Donald Brook, Composer’s Gallery (London, Rockcliff, 1944)

Notes:

[1] Berkeley was cox of the Merton College Rowing Eight. Whilst at the College he took a fourth class in French (1926).

[2] Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979) was a French composer, conductor, and teacher. During the middle years of the twentieth century she was renowned for teaching several generations of music students. This included diverse pupils such as Burt Bacharach, Aaron Copland, Elliott Carter, John Eliot Gardner, Nicolas Maw, Astor Piazzolla, Robert Sherlaw Johnson and Richard Stoker.

[3] Lennox Berkeley’s regular ‘Reports from Paris’ were published in the Monthly Musical Record between 1929-34. These letters are a fascinating and informative account of concert and opera life in the French capital during a vibrant era of musical history. They are conveniently collected in Lennox Berkeley and Friends: Writings, Letters and Interviews: edited by Peter Dickinson, The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 2012. This volume also includes several letters from Berkeley to Boulanger.

[4] A ‘factional’ account of Lennox Berkeley’s meeting with Igor Stravinsky has recently been authored by Tony Scotland: FLÈCHE: Brief Encounter with Stravinsky Shelf Lives, The Pottery Baughurst, Hampshire 2018. This book recounts a meeting of the two composers on the ‘Golden Arrow’ train during November 1934.

[5] ‘Jonah’ was composed during 1935. It was first heard during a BBC broadcast on 19 June 1936. The first public performance was at Leeds Town Hall, on 7 October 1937. The Musical Times review cited by was included in the November edition of this journal. It is a fact that ‘Jonah’ has not retained a place in the repertoire. The is no recording available.