Eric Coates’s Two Light Syncopated Pieces (1924)

On Saturday, 5 September 1925, Eric Coates's Two Light Syncopated Pieces received their premiere performance at the Queen's Hall, London, as part of a lengthy promenade concert. The programme that evening was diverse, and included Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 4, Edvard Grieg's Peer Gynt Suite No. 2, and Ottorino Respighi's Fountains of Rome. The concert opened with Engelbert Humperdinck's overture to Hansel and Gretel and concluded with the Valse from Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin. The New Queen's Hall Orchestra was primarily conducted by Henry Wood, with Jelly d'Arányi as the violin soloist in the Mozart, however, Coates conducted his own work. Michael Payne (2012, p.71) states that Coates's inclusion in the Proms was notable, as light music and ballads were "gradually phased out" at the time.

The birth of Coates's son, Austin, in April 1922, marked a period of decreased musical output for the composer, as noted by Ian Lace (1986, p.39). Aside from a few songs, no major works followed The Merrymakers Miniature Overture (1923). Coates eventually returned to composition, completing his Two Light Syncopated Pieces – Moon Magic and Rose of Samarkand - for the 1925 Proms.

One of the songs he composed during this period was ‘Rose of Samarkand,’ which set a text by Roydon Barrie. Interestingly, "Roydon Barrie" was the pen name of Rodney Bennett (1890–1948), a British lyricist, playwright, and children's author, and the father of composer Richard Rodney Bennett. It was transcribed for orchestra. The song was dedicated to Debroy Somers, bandleader of the Savoy Orpheans. Coates realized that as the Orpheans' music grew in popularity, he could achieve similar effects - known as "symphonic syncopation” -by using a standard symphony orchestra (Payne, op. cit.).

Eric Coates's Two Light Syncopated Pieces were conceived as foxtrots, a sophisticated ballroom dance characterized by walking steps and jazz rhythms. Moon Magic evokes a romantic, dreamlike quality. Its syncopated rhythms and lush string textures suggest moonlight glinting over a still landscape. Sharp leaps, chromatic triplets, and muted brass offer a stylized nod to the well-crafted dance band tunes of the era (Payne, 2012, p. 72). Strings and woodwinds bathe the work in a gentle radiance, evoking the elegance of a moonlit ballroom. Rose of Samarkand shifts into a more exotic register, reflecting the era’s fascination with the East. Its title evokes Central Asian allure, which Coates complements with sultry rhythms, orientalist colours, and percussive intensity. Structured around a persistent drumbeat - first tenor drum, then side drum - it mirrors the rhythmic grounding typical of dance bands. The orchestration divides the ensemble into clearly defined sonic "teams" of brass, reeds, and rhythm, akin to a jazz orchestra (Payne, op. cit.).

Harmonically, both pieces are steeped in the then current language of dance band jazz, using major sevenths, elevenths, and minimal modulation.

These two short pieces reveal Coates’s knack for blending catchy tunes with a sound "classical" musical technique. Rooted in the interwar love of jazz rhythms and syncopation, they carry his trademark melodic polish. Lasting just six minutes in total, they offer a charming window into his playful, light-hearted orchestral style.

You can listen to Eric Coates’s Two Light Syncopated Pieces on YouTube, here and here.  The BBC Concert Orchestra is conducted by John Wilson, and the recording was released on the ASV Record label, CD WHL2107 (1997).

Bibliography
Lace, Ian, In Town Tonight: A Centenary Study of Eric Coates, Thames Publishing, 1986.
Payne, Michael, The Life and Music of Eric Coates, Ashgate Publishing Ltd, 2012.

It's not British, but...Aaron Copland on Alto

The CD opens with Billy the Kid: Ballet Suite. This evocative score was originally written for the Ballet Caravan at the behest of the American author and impresario, Lincoln Kirstein. It was premiered in Chicago during October 1938. The following year Copland made an orchestral suite which was first heard at the Radio City, New York, on 9 November 1940. The story of the ballet presents Billy’s life, from his childhood, living on the American frontier, and his turning to crime and death. The Suite presents six vignettes, including The Open Prairie, Street in a Frontier Town, Card Game at Night, Gun Battle, Celebration after Billy’s Capture, and The Open Prairie Again. Traditional folk tunes are moulded by Copland's distinctive style. The music alternates between lively, rhythmic passages and more serene, atmospheric moments, suggesting the vast landscapes and vibrant spirit of the Wild West – at least in the imagination of Hollywood. The composer admitted that it was the “first time that I attempted to tap the rich source of American folk music and give it a full orchestral setting.”

The present recording was released in 1958 on the Everest label (SDBR 3015). The liner notes do not explain that it was recorded in Walthamstow Assembly Hall, London, during 17 November 1958.

Copland as conductor of the London Symphony Orchestra is subtle throughout, rather than overdoing the “rootin’ tooton’ and shootin’” inherent in the story.

The same LP also featured Aaron Copland's Statements for Orchestra, completed in 1935. It was a commission by the League of Composers. The first two movements were premiered by the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra under Eugene Ormandy on 9 January 1936, with a full performance not being heard until 7 January 1942 by the New York Philharmonic conducted by Dimitri Mitropoulos. There are a series of six brief movements, with “suggestive titles” given as an aid to the public understanding what Copland had in mind when writing these pieces. These abstract, dissonant, movements are Militant, Cryptic, Dogmatic, Subjective, Jingo, and Prophetic. This is an exceptionally angular and effective performance of this work.

Copland's Symphony No. 3 was written between 1944 and 1946. It was commissioned by the Koussevitzky Music Foundation in honour of Serge Koussevitzky's late wife. The symphony was premiered by the Boston Symphony Orchestra under Koussevitzky in 1946. It is true to say that this symphony expresses the quintessential American sound Copland is known for, blending expansive, lyrical melodies with powerful, rhythmic drive. 

The Symphony is presented in four movements, with the final movement incorporating Copland's famous Fanfare for the Common Man. This fanfare, originally composed in 1942, leads to a triumphant and optimistic conclusion to the symphony. Throughout, Copland's use of rich orchestration and dynamic contrasts creates a vibrant and expressive musical landscape. It is often hailed as a representation of the “American spirit” and has become a staple in the orchestral repertoire. Like Appalachian Spring, it displays his ability to capture the essence of a nation through music. It remains an often tender and always inspiring essay, with emotional depth and technical brilliance. The Symphony was originally released in 1959 on Everest SBDR 3018, in stereo, and was recorded on 18 November 1958, once again at Walthamstow Assembly Hall.

The liner notes by Jeffrey Davis give a helpful introduction to this repertoire. They include several passages from Copland’s writings. Bearing in mind that these recordings are more than 67 years old, they are remarkable in both their depth and vivacity. At the time of the original vinyl releases, they were highly regarded technically.

I enjoyed these “historic” performances of three important compositions by Copland. Many conductors such as John Wilson, Leonard Slatkin, Leonard Bernstein, and James Judd have turned their attention to some or all these works. Yet there is something special about a recording of a piece made by its creator. There is restraint and clarity along with a freshness and leanness about these recordings that transcends time.

Track Listing:
Aaron Copland (1900-90)
Billy the Kid: Ballet Suite (1938)
Statements for Orchestra (1934)
Symphony No.3 (1946)
London Symphony Orchestra/Aaron Copland
rec. 1958
Alto ALC 1703

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

Robert Farnon: City Streets

It is tricky to work out what city Robert Farnon had in mind when he completed his vibrant orchestral piece, City Streets. Despite the composer being Canadian by birth, I do not think this bouncy number refers to Toronto or Montreal. A clue may be found in the work’s genesis. The liner notes of a Robert Farnon Appreciation Society LP issued in 1977 (RFAS LP1) explains that some of his most familiar works were not originally compositions in themselves. Broadcasters liked to have a library of “short openings, endings and links with distinctive themes that quickly achieve public recognition.” To this end, Farnon had provided a series of “Openings and Endings” for use in the 1960s incarnation of the well-known BBC current affairs programme, Panorama. This consisted of eight short pieces entitled the “Pulse of the City.” Two of these were later used to introduce news programmes in Belgium. Farnon “bowed to the numerous requests” for a longer work making use of some of these themes. The result was City Streets. So, I am guessing that the ‘Streets’ are London,  as this is the home of the Beeb. The music is energetic, creating great excitement, and capturing the hustle and bustle of city life. To this ends he uses shimmering strings and dynamic, often muted, brass to create a sense of movement and excitement. Farnon creates an almost cinematic atmosphere, making City Streets a quintessential example of his ability to translate everyday experiences into evocative musical storytelling.

Listen to Robert Farnon’s City Streets on YouTube, here. The Queen's Hall Light Orchestra is conducted by the composer.

Cyril Scott: Pen Portrait by Watson Lyle, 1933 Part II

Cyril Scott had a profound interest in occultism, viewing it as a "synthesis of Science, Mysticism, Philosophy, Psychology and Religion, in their purest forms." This fascination developed after a period of agnosticism, leading him to Theosophy and eventually to an engagement with various occult concepts. He formally joined the Theosophical Society in 1914 and remained a member throughout his life.

Scott believed in a "supernormal" rather than supernatural reality, where spirit and matter are distinct aspects of the same fundamental truth. He also embraced concepts like Karma and reincarnation. His connections with clairvoyants, such as Robert King and Nelsa Chaplin, further deepened his explorations into the occult. Scott even claimed to be a channel for music from nature spirits and devas, experimenting with symbolic harmonies and scales to represent these entities. While his musical characteristics had begun to develop before his occult interests, his later works show a sophisticated attempt to translate mystical experiences and notions into musical form. Lyle Watson continued his chat:

"Do you," I asked, turning from the wide bay window of the delightful studio of his home in town," [1] with such a pleasant outlook as that, find it hard to concentrate upon work?" I indicated the terraces and lawns of the garden, bathed in the yellowing effulgence of the June afternoon. Sitting down facing him from the opposite end of a settee, I watched him puff away industriously at a favourite hookah pipe for a second or two before replying to me, his right arm easefully quiescent along the back of the settee, his left hand nervously pliant over the cane-encased, glass, rose-water reservoir of the pipe. His fingers tightened around it. Mobile lips and mouthpiece reluctantly severed companionship. From their citadel of his domed skull, his grey eyes gazed straightly into mine.

He said: "When there is the real urge to creative work, physical surroundings are not always of great importance. One does not notice them. There are influences near us far stronger than they. It is these influences that are important to the artist."

"Psychic influences?"

He inclined his head to my question, his hand again contemplatively engaged with the bowl of his pipe, its mouthpiece once more in intimate communion with his lips. For a little neither of us spoke; yet one became strangely aware of an ebb and flow of thought between us, so that I somehow felt no break in continuity of speech when he said: "It may sound odd, but until a few years ago I never had the least desire either to draw or paint. Then suddenly I found myself with a longing to do so. Perhaps you noticed the panel in the next room? Of course I don't profess to be a real painter, but I find occasionally working with colours very good for a tired brain." (I had noticed the Italian-looking landscape, but did not know whom it was by. It seemed incredible that anyone lacking years of study and tuition in graphic art could have produced it.)

Feeling however that this occurrence, evidence of yet a third facet of Scott's creativeness, though interesting in itself, threatened to lead away from the real purpose of our talk, I said, sitting down beside him again: "I suppose, as a pianist, you find the instrument rather helpful when composing?"

"But I don't consider myself a pianist," he said almost sharply. [2]

"Come, come! I have heard you play very well indeed," I answered, laughing, " and as I hear all kinds of pianists - good, bad and indifferent -e very concert season, I may claim to be some judge of what is, and what is not, good pianistic art. I have heard you play your own music delightfully."

"Ah! My own music." Smiling slightly as though found out in something, he went on: "But I am not a pianist within the general meaning of the term." "Still, how about the influence of the instrument when you compose?" I hope he forgave my tenacity.

"Sometimes I use it, and sometimes I do not. I have written quite a lot of music-chamber music without employing it at all. On the other hand, I may use it when composing piano works. It is useful for trying over things."

"As a sort of palette?"

"Yes. I do not find it cramps the imagination. In fact, I use a composer's piano."

"What's that?" I exclaimed. For indeed I had never heard of any special style of piano for composers.

"I'll show you it." Rising, with his easy, graceful manner, he moved across the carpet into the small room I had just left.

"This is the only composer's piano in existence, I believe. I invented it, and had it specially made. Look!" Seating himself before what looked rather like a plain, black wood dummy upright pianoforte without a keyboard, he raised part of the front which folded backwards forming a broad writing desk for music MS. paper and disclosing the keyboard of the pianoforte inside this plain case.

"There you are," he said. "Everything ready to hand to test by ear the colours' mixed on the palette!" "Splendid!" said I enthusiastically. "For the little composing I do nowadays, I manage irksomely upon the lid of the grand piano as desk, sprinkling ink freely as I jump about. But this"

"Saves time," observed Cyril Scott laconically, slowly closing the lid of his invention as he rose and went back in his reposeful way to the larger room, puffing again at his pipe with its bubbling little song of the rosewater in the glass reservoir.

Watson Lyle Modern Composers XII-CYRIL SCOTT The Bookman, November 1933, p.115ff

Notes

[1] Probably 37 Ladbroke Grove, Kensington and Chelsea.

[2] In the early years of the 20th century Scott “strove to carve out a career as a young concert virtuoso.” He retained the technical skills well into his final years.

Concluded.

Cyril Scott: Pen Portrait by Watson Lyle, 1933 Part I

Cyril Scott (1879-1970) was an English composer, writer, and poet who, at the beginning of the 20th century, was considered a pioneering figure in modern British music. He was part of the "Frankfurt Group," a circle of composers who studied at the Hoch Conservatory in Frankfurt, Germany.

Scott's music is often characterized by its lyrical qualities, innovative harmonies, and impressionistic textures. He incorporated elements of Romanticism with more modern sounds, creating a unique and individual style that set him apart from the prevailing Germanic influences of the time. While he composed a wide range of works, including symphonies, concertos, operas, and chamber music, he is perhaps best known for his shorter piano pieces, such as the exotic and atmospheric Lotus Land.

Beyond his significant musical output (around four hundred compositions), Scott was also a prolific writer and poet, with interests in occultism, alternative medicine, and philosophy. Although his popularity as a composer waned later in his life, his work has seen a resurgence of interest in recent years, recognizing his important contribution to British music history and his forward-thinking approach to composition.

Watson Lyle was a British music critic active in the early 20th century. He contributed to The Musical Quarterly, and other contemporary periodicals. Lyle's work reflected a keen analytical approach to music criticism, balancing admiration for technical mastery with thoughtful commentary on artistic interpretation 

The present “conversation” with Cyril Scott was written in 1933 and published in The Bookman during November of that year. The composer would have been 54 years old at that time.

While I knew from "Grove," and the catalogues of music publishers, that Cyril Scott had composed several works of symphonic proportions, besides certain charming songs and pianoforte pieces familiar to most concert-goers, I confess to a feeling of surprise upon discovering that the numbers of his opera approached a hundred; and I imagine that this information will surprise most folks. Also, the fact that it is fifty-four years since this youthful looking man, with hair still unsilvered, was born. By the age of seven he had learnt the rudiments of music and began to write it, and at twelve left his home in Cheshire (Oxton) [1] to seriously pursue his art at the Hoch Conservatoire, Frankfort-on-the-Maine, fellow students there being Percy Grainger, Norman O'Neill and Roger Quilter. [2]

To the general public Cyril Scott is known as the composer of Lotus Land, Danse Nègre, Blackbird's Song, and that other exquisite miniature for voice and pianoforte, Lullaby. That this same public is ignorant of his symphonic works (although we owe the production of his Second Symphony to Sir Henry J. Wood at a Prom. of 1903) and his opera, The Alchemist (1926) and has but a nodding acquaintance with his chamber music and his pianoforte concerto, must be set down to lack of enterprise in our concert organisations, for it is by these large works that he is best known on the Continent. True, we have enjoyed occasionally broadcasts of his smaller works (such as the broadcast of his songs on August 9th, with the composer at the piano), but while they bear the imprint of his poetic fusion of tone-colour and rhythm, they naturally give the impression of an artist of lesser stature than is known to the German musical public.

There may be two explanations for this state of affairs. Either those including Scott's works in their programmes, and publishing lists, believe in giving the public more of the particular kind of his music for which it has shown a decided preference; or else the unobtrusive personality of the composer has not insisted upon what might be termed his three-dimensional importance in music - indeed in art. Naturally it is with Cyril Scott the composer we are here primarily concerned, but in passing reference must be made to his other works in poetry and prose. If one's cheeks flare now and then at home truths while reading Childishness: A Study in Adult Conduct, [3] one can laugh forgivingly at its piquant, sarcastic wit. Despite its ruthless commentary upon our times and our foibles, the book has a pervading humanity linking it spiritually to the repose in the second subject of the slow movement of his piano sonata, op. 66, as well as to the strength of endeavour dominating the first movement. Animating the book is an objective analysis of cause and effect, mental processes which, directed into musical channels, may explain his subtle command of tone-colour. It is thus, one feels, he chooses sensitively effective, though often unusual, notation to express himself musically.

Watson Lyle Modern Composers XII-CYRIL SCOTT The Bookman, November 1933, p.115ff

Notes

[1] Cyril Scott was born at “The Laurels,” Oxton, Birkenhead, on 27 September 1879. It is commemorated with a Blue Plaque.

[2] The other member of the Frankfurt Group or Gang was H. Balfour Gardiner. They studied composition under the German composer and music teacher, Iwan Knorr (1853-1916).

[3] The Cyril Scott Net explains that Childishness: A Study in Adult Conduct (1930) explores the ways in which immature behaviour manifests in adulthood, examining its ethical and psychological implications.

To be continued…

Spring fire: Arnold Bax - Complete Music for Cello and Piano

Like many commentators of a certain vintage, I was introduced to Bax’s cello and piano music on the remarkable Lyrita vinyl albums played by Florence Hooton, cello, and Wilfrid Parry, piano released in the mid-1960s. The Legend Sonata and the Sonatina were issued on RCS 6 and the Folk-Tale, and the Sonata appeared on RCS 7. Both LPs were in ‘monaural’ sound: both were reissued in CD (REAM 2104) in 2008 (reviewed here). Over the years, several other artists have recorded all or part of this repertoire, including Bernard Gregor-Smith and Yolande Wrigley on ASV CD DCA 896, 1994 and Lionel Handy and Jennifer Hughes on Lyrita SRCD 361, 2017.

This new SOMM disc opens with Folk-Tale for cello and piano. It appeared in 1918, and was dedicated to Felix Salmond, who, along with the composer, gave the premiere performance at the Wigmore Hall on 27 April of that year. Bax does not give any indication as to what the “Tale” may have been about. Yet, during the latter months of the First World War, he was to leave his wife Elsita Sobrino for Harriet Cohen. Furthermore, he was still disillusioned by the turn of events in his beloved Eire. I have written before that this is no “bucolic folk tale, but a tragic and melancholy reflection on Bax’s life and the world he found himself in.” Contrariwise, it is clear from listening that this Folk-Tale does invoke landscapes and legends in a bizarrely oppressive manner.

Bax’s biographer Lewis Foreman is not too complimentary about the Cello Sonata (1923). The very fact that the composer incorporated material from his abandoned symphony Spring Fire (1913) into the sonata’s slow movement suggested that he was struggling with this work, as he often reused older material when facing a lack of inspiration. In Foreman’s view, this present piece contains uneven material and lacks the “sustained lyrical line of the Viola Sonata.”

One interpretive suggestion offered by the liner notes concerns the sonata’s debt to Spring Fire, which in turn was a musical impression of Swinburne’s verse drama Atalanta in Calydon. The author poses the question, “Is it too fanciful to associate Atalanta, the swift-footed virgin huntress, with the young Harriet [Cohen]?” I like to think that this is a good call.

Despite Lewis Foreman’s misgivings about this Sonata, I find it quite remarkable. For me it is chockfull of gorgeous tunes which seem to tumble over each other. The overriding mood is one of regret, but there are moments of angst and even a touch of the demonic. Strangely, this Sonata does not seem to reflect Bax’s love of Ireland. So much so that the critic Ernest Evans suggested that the beguiling slow movement has a touch of the South to its mood: he has suggested that it could be subtitled ‘In an Italian Garden.’ An important feature of this sonata is the Epilogue, which would become a feature of Bax’s formal structures. This brings it to a satisfying conclusion after a dramatic opening movement, the lyrical poco lento and the forceful finale.

The Sonata was commissioned by Beatrice Harrison who along with Harriet Cohen would give its premiere performance at the Wigmore Hall on 26 February 1924.

Bax’s Sonatina for cello and piano was written in 1933. It was dedicated to the legendary Pablo Casals, who never actually performed it. In fact, it is unlikely that the two men met. The Sonatina has three movements. It opens with a confident and insistent Allegro Risoluto which is rhythmically diverse and possessing a mood of urgency. The heart of the work is the Andante, which is reflective, and in Bax’s Celtic idiom. The finale, a Moderato, pulls these moods together and provides a calm and measured conclusion. The title Sonatina may be a little misleading. It lasts for about thirteen minutes and is characterised by considerable harmonic depth and nuanced scoring for both instruments. There is nothing didactic here. The mood is certainly not charming or playful but typically presents a reflective musical narrative.

The final piece in this recital is the late Legend-Sonata for cello and piano (1943). This is not usually regarded by critics as being one of Bax’s strongest essays. The Legend-Sonata is relaxed music compared to what he would have created in the first quarter of the century. Crucially, there is a suggestion that the passion inherent in the early “Celtic” compositions has evaporated and that what is presented here is an “old man’s” unsuccessful attempt at recapturing his lost youth. I disagree. To be sure, there seems to be little sense of a “Legend” in this work, unless one ascribes an undeclared personal story in Bax’s mind. I have noted before Peter Pirie’s comment that it exudes "a certain rich creative contentment” and suggest that this is the key to appreciating this work. There is much that is quite simply gorgeous here, especially in the slow movement, Lento espressivo. There is a reference to “Fand’s song of immortal love” from the tone poem The Garden of Fand (1913–16), as “Fand, Lady of the Ocean, seduces Cuchulain away from his earthly wife.” Yet, now, and then, Bax introduces some sterner passages that may suggest more troubled memories. It is given a fine, uplifting account by this Baillie-Thwaites duo. The Legend-Sonata was first performed on 10 November 1943, by Florence Hooton (its dedicatee) and Harriet Cohen.

I was impressed by the playing on the disc by Alexander Baillie, cello, and John Thwaites, piano. They provide a convincing and committed account of these four notable works, capturing the wide variety of moods and shifting colours of the music. The disc is enhanced by an outstanding recording.

The liner notes are authored by John Thwaites and give an acceptable introduction to the repertoire. Much of the text is devoted to exploring the orchestral tone poem, Spring Fire, and tends to provide less detail/analysis about the actual music on this disc. Resumes of the performers are included.

This is a splendid addition to Bax’s discography. It will certainly become my go-to version for these remarkable works. But one must never forget the pioneering recordings made by Florence Hooton and Wilfrid Parry nearly 70 years ago…

Track Listing:
Arnold Bax (1883-1953)
Folk-Tale for cello and piano (1918)
Sonata for cello and piano (1923)
Sonatina for cello and piano (1933)
Legend-Sonata for cello and piano (1943)
Alexander Baillie (cello), John Thwaites (piano)
rec. 13-14 July 2022 and 15-16 April 2023, The Bradshaw Hall, Royal Birmingham Conservatoire, Birmingham.
SOMM Recordings SOMMCD 0704

Percy Grainger at the Bechstein Hall.

From Wikipedia

On 15 November 1905, the Australian born Percy Grainger (1882-1961) gave a remarkable recital at the Bechstein Hall, Wigmore Street London. At the time, Grainger was establishing himself as a pianist and composer in London, where he had been based since 1901.

It was a wide-ranging concert that must have lasted for more than two hours. It opened with a major transcription of J.S. Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in D major by the Italian Ferruccio Busoni. The Times (16 November 1905, p.10) reports that he played “two of the less hackneyed sonatas” by Domenico Scarlatti. This was followed by Beethoven’s Rondo ‘Die Wut über den verlorenen Groschen, ausgetobt in einer Caprice’ better known to English concert goers as the Rage over a Lost Penny presented with “admirable delicacy and humour.”  Then came Johannes Brahms Variations on a Theme by Handel “played with prodigious effect and brilliancy, as well as with complete musicianship.”

At the beginning of the century, Percy Grainger was deeply involved in collecting English folk songs in North Lincolnshire. He was influenced by the Folk Song Society, which aimed to preserve traditional music before it disappeared due to urbanisation. However, he was also an enthusiast of Edvard Grieg. He included two unnamed folk tunes arranged by the Norwegian composer. Turning to Irish music, he played his own transcriptions of two Irish Dances which had been collected and realised by Charles Villiers Stanford – the first being the “whimsical” Leprechaun’s Dance, and the second, a “rollocking Cork reel” subtitled Take her our and air her. Encores were demanded of these pieces.

A major (possible) first British performance was Claude Debussy’s Pagodes. This is the first piece in Estampes (1903), evoking Indonesian gamelan music, which the French composer encountered at the 1889 Paris Exposition. The Times considered that it was “a weird and picturesque piece…couched in what we must suppose to be a Chinese style.”  Another novelty was Cyril Scott’s dreamlike, hypnotic, Lotus Land which paper deemed to be “a fanciful and original piece of formidable difficulty” and the London Evening Standard (16 November 1905, p.9) felt that it was “curiously weird.” The recital concluded with the Balakirev favourite, the fiery and virtuosic Islamey.

Considering the concert as a whole, the Daily Telegraph (16 November 1905, p.11) noted that Granger’s “…adherents almost completely filled the room.” Furthermore, it considered that “the artist…shows a steady advance in [his] ability to interpret the works of the great composers in a manner that yields satisfaction to connoisseurs.” On the downside the critic felt that Grainger was “a little too much inclined…to establish the quality of his muscle.” This made his interpretation of the Bach/Busoni and the Brahms “a thought too powerful.”

This notion was echoed by H.V. in the Musical Standard (25 November 1905, p343). He writes that "Mr Percy Grainger is a pianist with a large technique and a boundless ability, seemingly for making a noise…” His execution “admitted only the two extremes of tone – viz., great power and considerable delicacy.” Thus the “nuances between these two were for the most part absent.”

William Lloyd Webber: The Saviour

Over the years there has been a steady trickle of recordings of William Lloyd Webber’s music. Most significant was the Chandos (CHAN 9595, 1998) conspectus of choral and orchestral works. Other discs have majored on organ pieces, choral music and songs. The present CD introduces the listener to several unrecorded organ preludes, a selection of anthems, and a modern recording of his large-scale cantata The Saviour. For an “Impressionistic View” of the composer and his achievement, see my essay, here.

The programme opens with two well-wrought anthems. Sing, O heavens (c.1957) is “suitable for harvest thanksgiving.” It is unusual as being scored for SAB, omitting the tenor part. The opening and closing passages of this stirring anthem sound Elgarian or perhaps even Parry-ian. The reflective O for a closer walk with God (1957) sets a well-known text by William Cowper. It considers the soul’s desire to be near God but also acknowledges its tendency to stray. This dichotomy is reflected in its ternary structure. The liner notes suggest Herbert Howells and Herbert Sumsion as stylistic indicators. This is followed by Oh, Lord spread Thy wings oe’r me (1952) which is set as a song for solo voice and organ. It is tenderly sung by an unnamed mezzo soprano.

Six Interludes on Passion Hymns (1963) provide a satisfying contrast in this largely vocal disc. The first, There is a green hill far away, nods towards Percy Whitlock with its gentle “questioning and improvisatory” feel. The second interlude, When I survey the wondrous Cross, introduces an insouciant right-hand accompaniment in 6/8 time against the hymn tune in the left hand. Ride on in Majesty is appropriately powerful in its commemoration of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem on a donkey. The fourth and fifth Interludes are pensive in mood as befits the sentiment of O come and mourn with me awhile and O sacred head sore wounded. The final number Praise to the holiest in the height is an impressive toccata with a “blazing conclusion.” I feel that in recital, these Interludes benefit being played as a set, however, in liturgical settings, they would make splendid individual voluntaries.

The background to the large-scale cantata The Saviour is given in the liner notes. It was composed in 1961, designed as a Passiontide work in the tradition of John Stainer’s Crucifixion and John Henry Maunder’s Olivet to Calvary. It was dedicated to the Revd. Derrick Greeves and the Choir of Westminster Central Hall. Its full title provides an insight into the cantata’s ethos:  A meditation upon the death of Christ. The libretto which was compiled by Bryn Rees, contains passages from the Gospels and some hymns as well as his own poetry. 

The work is divided into three sections, each portraying a unique aspect of Christ’s relationship to mankind: Man’s Need, God’s Remedy and finally, New Life in Christ. It includes choral passages, movements for soloists, recitatives, and notably, each part ends with a congregational hymn.

I am not sure about the ultimate success of this piece. To be sure there are glorious moments in the proceedings, especially in the choral sections. I found that there was too much recitative/declamation given to the (unnamed) tenor and bass soloists. What is not in doubt is the masterly performance by all concerned. This underscores the cantata’s distinctive musical language, defined by its rich, fluid melodies and opulent accompaniment, evoking the style of Ralph Vaughan Williams, under whom Webber studied.

I understand that some of the music on this disc is previously unrecorded. There is an old vinyl LP of The Saviour issued on the Pilgrim Records label (JLP125) which was released in 1965. Here, Lloyd Webber conducted the Choir of Westminster Methodist Central Hall. Furthermore, Part III of The Saviour was recorded by the Choir of All Saints, Margaret Street, London, conducted by Harry Brahma. (Priory PRCD 677, 1999). I have not listened to these albums.

The Leeds Minster (formerly Leeds Parish Church) choir and the organist, Shaun Turnbull, give a wonderful account of this repertoire.

The liner notes are by Alexander Woodrow, with the assistance of the late Simon Lindley. They provide a good introduction to the music on this CD. Dates of composition for the anthems and organ pieces would have been helpful. The texts of the anthems and The Saviour are provided along with resumes of the choir and organist.

This excellent disc is essential to all lovers of English music from the choirstalls and the organ loft. It provides another chapter in the reevaluation of William Lloyd Webber’s catalogue begun nearly thirty years ago.

Track Listing:
William Lloyd Webber (1914-82)
Sing, O Heavens (c.1957)
O for a closer walk with God (1957)
Oh, Lord spread Thy wings oe’r me. (1952)
Six Interludes on Passion Hymns: There is a green hill far away; When I survey the wondrous Cross; Ride on, ride on in Majesty; O come and mourn with me awhile; O sacred head sore wounded; Praise to the holiest in the height. (1963)
Cantata: The Saviour (1961)
Choir of Leeds Minster/Alexander Woodrow, Shaun Turnbull (organ)
rec. 13-15 November 2024, Leeds Minster, Leeds.
Priory PRCD 1252

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

Ronald Binge: Trade Winds (1946)

‘Sea Music’ has always been popular with British composers. Think only of Frank Bridge’s Suite: The Sea, Benjamin Britten’s Four Sea Interludes from the opera Peter Grimes and on a lesser scale, John Ireland’s Sea Idyll for solo piano.

Best known for his ever-popular Elizabethan Serenade, Sailing By, and The Watermill, Ronald Binge (1910–1979) was a British composer and arranger known for his contributions to light music. Born in Derby, England, he initially worked as a cinema organist before joining orchestras in seaside resorts. His career took off when he became an arranger for Mantovani, where he pioneered the "cascading strings" effect, a hallmark of Mantovani’s sound. Many of his compositions have attractive, descriptive titles.

The liner notes of the Marco Polo survey of Binge’s music remind the listener that during the sailing era, trade winds were crucial for maritime commerce, driving ships steadily across the world's oceans. Blowing eastward north of the equator and westward to the south, these winds provided reliable routes for international trade. Between them lay the doldrums, a windless region that could leave ships stranded. Navigating these patterns ensured smooth and efficient transportation of goods. This inspired Binge’s Trade Winds (1946) which is really a miniature tone poem.

The composer has captured two distinct moods here. Clearly the listener is asked to imagine they were on a Tall Ship responding to the “wayward” winds. Sometimes, the ship surges on and then the sea becomes calm. Somehow, the “wind always returning to keep the vessel moving ever onwards into the horizon.” With its sweeping orchestration and gentle rhythmic pulse, Trade Winds conveys a sense of movement and serenity, evoking images of ships gliding effortlessly across tranquil waters.

Listen to Ronald Binge’s Trade Winds on YouTube, here. The Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra is conducted by Ernest Tomlinson on Naxos 8.223515.

Thomas Pitfield: Orchestral Music

A discerning approach to this distinguished recording requires an appreciation that Thomas Pitfield (1903–1999) was a true polymath - a composer, poet, artist, and craftsman of notable versatility. His musical language reveals the influence of Frederick Delius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Percy Grainger, yet always retains an individual character. Unhesitant in his engagement with folk song, Pitfield resourcefully integrates it into a classical context, yielding compositions distinguished by appealing melodies, sophisticated harmonic treatment, and a sensitivity to instrumental technique. 

I am beholden to the excellent liner notes provided by the recorderist John Turner, who is a trustee of the Pitfield Trust.

This is not the forum to discuss the differences between a ‘Symphony’ and a ‘Sinfonietta,’ save to say the latter is not necessarily “light weight.” One need think of eponymous works by Britten, Janáček and Moeran to realise that there are examples with considerable depth of feeling and technical prowess. Despite Pitfield’s Sinfonietta (1946) opening with a sense of grandeur, the music alternates between light and reflective moods. Though seemingly structured in five distinct movements, the liner notes suggest it falls somewhere between a suite and a set of variations. There seems (to this listener) little in the way of formal or thematic balance normally expected from a symphony. The movements include a surprisingly involved Polka, a heart-breaking Pavane and a lively, but quite serious Jig. The Sinfonietta is concluded with a long Finale, which bounces along with some backward glances towards more troubling matters. Whatever the formal impediments are, it is enjoyable and satisfying from the first note to the last. It deserves its place in the large catalogue of rarely (sadly) played British Symphonic Music.

The Fantasia on an Old Staffordshire Tune for violin and orchestra (1950) was first heard at a concert given during the 1951 Festival of Britain, by the Halle Orchestra under John Barbirolli. The Daily News (10 August 1951, p.4) reports on the “interesting” new work and how it “impressed one as an earnest piece of writing, attractive above all in its quieter moments.”  Up to a point I agree with the critic. There are moments when one is reminded of the pastoral “magic” of RVW’s The Lark Ascending, or Julius Harrison’s Bredon Hill. Yet, the faster passages are intriguing and provide a thoughtful contrast to the opening and closing “sections” which contain the heart and soul of this Fantasia. The finale, Andante contemplativo, opens with a cadenza, that nods to an Ascending Lark. The overall impact is one of warmth tempered by introspection. The “Old Tune” is based on The Little Room, a melody that Pitfield had found in that county. He late revisited it in his Bucolics.

The late Lyric Waltz (1988) was originally scored for a variety of instrumental resources including recorder, cello and piano and for piano solo. It has a lovely wistful air, which reminds me of so many sympathetic pieces written for this medium.

This is followed by the undated (although Turner suggests that it is probably “late”) Bucolics: Folk song Studies. The collection is based on a series of six Scottish, English and Irish tunes that are skillfully developed. Highlights include the opening Comin’ through the rye, the bouncy Where are you going to, my Pretty Maid, the intense (already mentioned) My little room and the entertaining Carrion Crow, concerning a pistol shot, poorly aimed, which missed its intended mark - a crow - and instead struck and killed the farmer’s sow.

The story of the Concerto Lirico for violin and orchestra is not a happy one, at least initially. It was completed in 1958 and premiered by the BBC Northern Orchestra under George Hurst, who gave it a less than satisfactory performance. After the broadcast, Pitfield largely destroyed the manuscript, keeping only the slow movement, which had been dedicated to a colleague and friend, the pianist Albert Hardie. Fortunately, he had made a microfilm copy of the concerto and had forgotten about it. It was discovered by John Turner, Pitfield’s executor, when “clearing out his garden shed[!]” It was latterly typeset by Peter Mountain, giving the English music enthusiast a first-class concerto. There are many stylistic nods in this work, including E.J. Moeran and Gerald Finzi. This concerto stands as a timeless masterpiece, embodying the hallmarks of a composer who, as Rob Barnett has said “held true to his style” resisting the “contemporary tidal surge of dissonance.” The Concerto Lirico was previously issued on the Dutton Epoch label (CDLX7221) and reviewed by Mr Barnett here.

The final track on this disc presents the deeply felt Epitaph for string orchestra (1981). It is an adaptation of part of a cantata dedicated to the great Northumberland-born bass Owen Brannigan. Originally a setting of one of Pitfield’s own poems reflecting on the elders of a village resting beneath weathered, moss-covered gravestones, their inscriptions fading with time, it has been transformed into a deeply moving numbers that is on a par with so much English pastoral music. It is my favourite composition on this disc.

All the works are given committed performances by the Liepāja Symphony Orchestra under Paul Mann. The violin soloist, Emma McGrath, gives outstanding accounts of the two concerted pieces. I have already mentioned the liner notes which add value and interest to the package. The recording is splendid.

This is altogether a valuable exploration of Thomas Pitfield’s eminently approachable music. Hopefully, Toccata Classics will re-examine his extensive catalogue soon.

Track Listing:
Thomas Pitfield (1903-99)
Sinfonietta (1946)
Fantasia on an Old Staffordshire Tune for violin and orchestra (1950)
Lyric Waltz for string orchestra (1988)
Bucolics: Folk song Studies (undated)
Concerto Lirico for violin and orchestra (1958)
Epitaph for string orchestra (1981)
Emma McGrath (violin), Liepāja Symphony Orchestra/Paul Mann
rec. 14-17 January 2025 Great Amber Concert Hall, Liepāja, Latvia
Toccata Classics TOCC0765

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

Gerald Finzi (1901-56) Prelude, op.25 for string orchestra (late 1920s.)

The Prelude, op. 25 for string orchestra was originally the first movement of a projected chamber symphony with the rustic title of The Bud, The Blossom and the Berry. This was to have been, in effect, Finzi’s Seasons. These movements were written after the composer had moved to London and had come under the aegis of Gustav Holst and Ralph Vaughan Williams. The work was never completed, although the composer did revisit the score in later years.

The piece was recovered from Finzi’s sketches after his death. The other surviving movement from this abandoned project is The Fall of the Leaf.  

The Prelude begins quietly, followed by a solo violin adding its thoughts, before the music builds up to a restrained climax, where, for a short while the predominant sadness suddenly reflects the warmth of spring. However, even this short-lived rapture is tinged with melancholy.  The harmonic structure of the work is largely straightforward, but here and there some mild dissonances add to the music’s introspection.

Finzi scholar Diana McVeagh has remarked that the temper of the Prelude is ‘gloomy’ and hardly presents the mood of ‘spring’, which was its original intention. Listeners must recall that much of Finzi’s music meditates on the transience of life. This melancholy temperament may have been encouraged by the profound impact of his father’s death in 1909: nine years later, Finzi’s music teacher Ernest Farrar was killed at Cambrai in the last months of the Great War.

Gerald Finzi’s Prelude was given its premiere posthumously at St John’s Church, Stockcross, Berkshire on 27 April 1957. The Newbury String Players, which Finzi founded in 1940 and had a long and deep association, were conducted by the composer’s son, Christopher. The work was published by Boosey & Hawkes the following year.

With thanks to the English Music Festival where this programme note was first published. 

Ravel 150: The Complete Songs on Signum

Listeners of a certain vintage will have been introduced to the songs of Maurice Ravel by way of Gérard Souzay and Janet Baker. To be sure, neither of them issued a ‘complete’ edition, however, it allowed interested listeners to gain a great introduction to this varied repertoire. Until this new release from Signum, my go-to version was issued by EMI in 1984 (EMI Classics – 5 69299 2). This featured a star-studded cast including Felicity Lott, Teresa Berganza, and Jessie Norman. The piano was played on this album by Dalton Baldwin.

Many years ago, I discovered a good hermeneutic for appreciating Ravel’s vocal music in a remarkable study of the composer by Norman Demuth. He suggested that they can be divided into three “distinct” categories. The first are the Chansons or Mélodies – or art songs, with piano accompaniment. Secondly, settings of found tunes where Ravel provided the piano accompaniment and thirdly, there are a few “elaborate” pieces that are devised for voices and a selection of instruments.

Signum have featured a largely chronological order over two discs, which makes for an interesting exploration of this repertoire. I consider here what for me are the highlights, with a couple of thoughts about one or two numbers that do not work, at least for me.

Ravel’s best known song cycle is Shéhérazade (1903) which takes its inspiration from the Tales of the Arabian Nights. The cycle presents three numbers that conjure up the exotic, mysterious, and sensual qualities of the stories. Ravel has infused them with impressionistic harmonies and a flexible vocal line that points up the evocative lyrics devised by Tristan Klingsor. The first, Asie, looks at the wonders of the orient, the second, La flûte enchantée majors on a woman listening to her lover playing the flute, whilst in the last, L’indifferent, the female singer attempts to gain the interest of a young stranger only to discover that he is gay. The performance here is pure magic. Every nuance of the imaginative and highly charged texts is captured by Paula Murrihy and Malcolm Martineau but not forgetting the evocative flute playing of Lisa Friend.

The Histoires naturelles (1906) caused a considerable scandal at the first performance. It is just not what the audience were expecting. The setting of animal poems by Jules Renard, are complimented by Ravel’s “biting humour and sarcasm.” Flora and fauna explored include The Peacock, The Cricket, The Swan, The Kingfisher, and The Guinea-hen. The vocal technique is typically declamation or conversational speech rather than a conventional singing style. The piano part is demanding with various onomatopoeic figurations such as the chirruping of the cricket and hints of Olivier Messiaen evoking the kingfisher. Baritone Simon Keenlyside gives a stunning performance of this most important offering from Maurice Ravel.

Turning to the folksong settings. The 5 Mélodies populaires grecques (1904-06) were based on anonymous texts translated from the Greek into French by Michel Dimitri Calvocoressi. Here Ravel combines simplicity with elegance, preserving the folk character through modal melodies and creating redolent textures. Also included on this album is the posthumously discovered 6^th Greek folksong, Tripatos (three steps).

The Chants populaires date from 1909-10. Here he set several texts: Spanish, French, Italian, Hebraic, Scottish. Being a Scot, my favourite is Rabbie Burns’s Ye Banks and Braes! Magically, Ravel has caught the traditions and regional characteristics of these songs, applying his own distinctive modernist touch.

The first of the 2 Mélodies hébraïques (1914) seems to be like a liturgical chant rather than a song. The second, although enjoying a rhythmic ostinato in the piano, is spoilt by a vocal line with too many “Tra la las.”

Finally, the Chansons madécasses (1925-26) was a commission from the American philanthropist and patron of the arts, Elizabeth Spraque Coolidge. They include flute, cello, and piano accompaniments as this is what was stipulated. The texts were translations of original Madagascan verse. These tropical songs evoke tender love music, an aggressive war chant which caused a near riot at its premiere, and a sultry vesperal. Ravel’s outstanding lyrical imagination is reflected in Julie Boulianne’s performance.

Stéphane Mallarmé (1842–1898) was a French Symbolist poet whose works profoundly influenced modern literature and art. Known for his intricate, evocative language, Mallarmé explored themes of beauty, mystery, and the abstract. His innovative poem L'Après-midi d'un faune, inspired Claude Debussy’s early masterpiece. Ravel composed his 3 Poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé in 1913, and dedicated them to Igor Stravinsky, Florent Schmitt and Erik Satie, respectively. These poems are hardly straightforward in French or English translation. The liner notes explain that Soupir is a “melancholy poem about autumn,” Placet futile “portrays a lovelorn abbot, who regrets that he will never appear naked on a Sevre teacup and will never become the princess’s lapdog, let alone her lover” and finally, Surgi de la croupe et du bond, a strange meditation on an empty vase that will never contain flowers.  Enigmatic these songs may be, but what is not in doubt is the sheer beauty of Ravel’s setting. Mallarme’s elusive imagery is matched with innovative harmonies and flowing vocal lines. An ethereal, other worldly atmosphere is created by Julie Boulianne and the chamber musicians.

The last three songs on this album were also Ravel’s final major composition. Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (1932-33) was originally slated to have been included in a commission for a score for a film exploring the life of the eponymous hero. They were to have been sung by the legendary bass Chaliapin. Sadly, Ravel did not submit them in time and was denied payment. The film company used the services of Jacques Ibert.

Ravel’s songs present a different facet of Cervantes’s knight’s character. Off beat rhythms and a guitar like accompaniment infuse the Chanson Romanesque. The following Chanson épique” with its austere nods to modal melodies and organ like harmonies, may reflect Don Quixote’s chivalric commitment. Finally, the more down to earth Chanson à boire displays strong cross-rhythms and hints at the jota, a Spanish courtship dance revealing the mortal desires of drink and sex. The entire cycle makes a fitting close to Ravel’s career.

Other mélodies that caught my ear include the early Sainte (1896) with its extensive use of seventh and ninth chords, the rhythmically diverse Epigrammes de Clément Marot (1896-99) and the late and valedictory Rêves (1927). Finally, there is an excellent account of Vocalise-étude en forme de habanera (1907), full of Spanish (by way of Cuba) sunshine and anguish.

Interestingly, the new recording does not include the once popular Fascination written for Paulette Darty. There has been debate as to whether Ravel or Fermo Dante Marchetti penned this number. But it would have been fun to have included it here.

The liner notes devised by Richard Stokes, provides the listener with sufficient detail to appreciate these varied songs. The texts are given alongside a parallel English translation. Resumes of the singers and pianist are included. The cover for this 150th anniversary release is boring.

It would be invidious to pick out the “best” performance from this “bumper roster” of artists. The palm must, however, go to the pianist Malcolm Martineau who is busy for most of this album. It was a brilliant idea to have used such a wide range of talent, rather than just rely on one or two singers. Each bring their considerable talents to this repertoire, which is characterised by, as David Cox once wrote, “clarity, fastidiousness, wit, harmonic richness, and melodic subtlety.”

Track Listing:
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
CD1
Ballade de la reine morte d'aimer (c.1894)
Un grand sommeil noir (1895)
Sainte (1896)
Epigrammes de Clément Marot (1896-99)
Chanson du rouet (1898)
Si morne! (1898)
Manteau de fleurs (1903)
Shéhérazade (1903)
5 Mélodies populaires grecques (1904-6)
Noël des jouets (1905)
Histoires naturelles (1906)
CD2
Vocalise-étude en forme de habanera (1907)
Les grands vents venus d'outre-mer (1906)
Sur l'herbe (1907)
Tripatos (1909)
Chants populaires (1909-10)
3 Poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé (1913)
2 Mélodies hébraïques (1914)
Trois chansons (1914-15)
Ronsard à son âme (1924)
Chansons madécasses (1925-26)
Rêves (1927)
Don Quichotte à Dulcinée (1932-33)
Lorna Anderson (soprano), Julie Boulianne (mezzo-soprano), John Chest (baritone), Sarah Dufresne (soprano), Dafydd Jones (tenor), Simon Keenlyside (baritone), Paula Murrihy (soprano); Nicky Spence (tenor), William Thomas (bass), Anna Stokes (flute), Julian Bliss (clarinet), Matt Glendening (clarinet), Cara Berridge (cello), Sacconi Quartet, Malcolm Martineau (piano)
rec. 2018-2024 Various Locations 

Signum Classics SIGCD870

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

Gordon Jacob: Festival Overture (1965)

Gordon Jacob (1895–1984) was an English composer and teacher known for his prolific output and expertise in orchestration. Born in London, he studied at the Royal College of Music under Charles Villiers Stanford and Ralph Vaughan Williams. His early life was marked by service during Queen’s Royal Regiment during the First World War, where he was taken prisoner in 1917. After the war, he pursued music, eventually becoming a professor at the Royal College of Music, where he taught from 1924 to 1966.

Jacob composed over seven hundred works, spanning orchestral, ballet, chamber, and wind band music. His orchestral works include two symphonies, concertos for various instruments, and numerous arrangements of works by other composers.

Beyond composition, Jacob was a respected author, authoring books on orchestration and musical technique, including Orchestral Technique (1931) and The Elements of Orchestration (1962).

Eric Wetherell, in his biography of Gordon Jacob (1895-1984) has reminded readers that 1965 was the year of composer’s 70th birthday. He outlines the various celebrations. The Royal College of Music had an afternoon concert on 7 July including student performances of Jacob’s chamber works. The same evening saw a concert of music presented by former pupils of the composer, including the first performance of his Six Miniatures for flute, oboe, harpsichord, and harp. Other commemorative events included a review of Jacob’s life on the Third Programme ‘Music Magazine’ programme presented by the pianist Jean Mackie. The BBC gave performances of his Overture for Brass and the Suite in B flat played by the Fairey Brass Band under their director Harry Mortimer. The BBC Home Service included his Elegy for cello and piano as well as his Piano Trio. Ruth Gipps and her Chanticleer Orchestra performed the Oboe and the Flute Concertos at the Wigmore Hall on 8 July. There was a concert of chamber music at Jacob’s hometown of Saffron Walden on 10 July.

The only orchestral piece that seems to have been performed during the anniversary year was the Festival Overture at a Promenade Concert on 21 August 1965. It opened the evening programme which included Cesar Franck’s Symphonic Variations, Mendelssohn’s ‘Italian’ Symphony, and Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker Suite. Except for the Overture, the BBC Symphony Orchestra was conducted by Malcom Sargent. 

The Festival Overture was originally composed for the Essex Youth Orchestra in 1963 and was first performed by them on 23 October 1964 under the composer’s baton at a Festival of Music and the Arts held in Saffron Walden. It was played on their Continental tour, conducted by their regular, Raymond Leppard.

The overture is scored for a large orchestra, consisting of triple woodwind, full brass with three trumpets, harp, and strings. There is a large array of percussion instruments. The composer provided the programme note for the Promenade Concert: -

“As befits the title, the music is animated throughout except for one quieter section near the middle. It is built out of three main themes, of which the first, heard at the outset, is characterised by strongly marked, often syncopated rhythms. The opening phrase plays its part in the development of the work. The second-subject material comprises two themes, one a tune over an ostinato-like bass in quavers, the other consisting of contrasting remarks from strings and brass. After this material has been enlarged upon and a big climax built up, the quieter section makes its appearance. Here the oboe is prominent until the strings take over.

The recapitulation differs from the exposition in detail, though all the themes are heard again in it, including a very fully scored version of the first of the second subject themes during which three trumpets in unison provide a kind of fairground effect. A short coda brings the overture to a resounding finish.” G.J.

Eric Wetherell has added that there are “no concessions” to the “relative inexperience” of the young players in the Essex Youth Orchestra. The players are presented with material that is “wholly practical” but still “pushing the instrumentalists to their limits.”

In his review this work for MusicWeb International Rob Barnett has written that “A Festival Overture is another cracking British concert overture which would be happy in any anthology. In fact, a dedicated record company could easily assemble a whole CD of Jacob overtures of this type… Someone has claimed that the overture sounds like Malcolm Arnold. I don’t see it. There is certainly a touch or two of E J Moeran and perhaps Reizenstein in this, but Arnold would have been even more over the top and raucous.”

Gordon Jacob’s Festival Overture (1963) was released on the Classico record label (CLASSCD204) coupled with the same composer’s Symphony No.2 in C major and ‘A Little Symphony.’ This performance has been posted on YouTube, here.

Cyril Scott Moods & Impressions

Thirty-two years late, I have had an opportunity to review this excellent disc of music by Cyril Scott. It can still be purchased from Tremula Records. Since 1993, there have been major developments in this composer’s solo piano discography. Most important of all is Leslie De’ath’s five-volume survey of a huge portion of Scott’s piano music on the Dutton Epoch label. Other artists have contributed to this revival. There is the two-CD edition of the Complete Sonatas and other works for piano played by Michael Schäfer (Genuin GEN 85049) from 2005, and Nino Gvetadze’s imaginative selection on the Challenge Classics label, issued in 2019 (CC72819).

Prior to Christopher Howell’s offering, Dennis Hennig released an attractive recital on the Etcetera Records label (KTC 1132) in 1992. This was to have been the first volume of a “complete” edition. Sadly, Hennig died shortly afterwards. The same year Marthanne Verbit included the Sonata No.1, the Danse Negre and Lotus land on her Past Futurists album (Albany Records Troy 070). Fifty-one years ago, she had released these three works on vinyl, coupled with the 5 Poems. (Genesis GS 1049). There have been others.

Howell’s recital opens with Six Pieces published in 1903, but probably dating from Scott’s time in Frankfurt as a student. This is pleasant “salon” music, exploring a variety of moods. There is no logical connection between these charming pieces. I especially warmed to the Folksong and the bubbly Scherzino.

The Two Pierrott Pieces (1904) have often been recorded. They were written when Scott was living in Liverpool. The first, Pierrott triste, is based on a tonal structure, but overlaid with complex chromaticism. The second, Pierrot gai with its harmonic waywardness, added note chords and a diatonic main theme provides a good contrast.

It is interesting to recall that Scott played them to Gabriel Fauré, who was quite complimentary. They were never to meet again. Howell brings all the emotion required to these lovely numbers: sadness, introspection in the former and coquetry and vivacity in the latter.

Sea-Marge was composed in 1914 and dedicated to the American-born British financier and philanthropist Sir Edgar and his wife Lady Spayer. Cyril Scott has developed impressionist harmonies, extended tonality and even nods towards minimalism in this evocative sea-piece. The title implies “at the edge of the sea or river, where the waves break in the shore. ‘Marge’ is an archaic word for ‘margin.’ During World War I, Sir Edgar faced anti-German sentiment and resigned from his positions, though he was cleared of accusations of trading with the enemy.

Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book is usually associated with Disney’s delightfully animated film or its more recent remake. Though Kipling’s text sparks debate today, it remains rewarding to read and was highly regarded in Scott’s time. In 1912, he wrote Impressions from the Jungle Book, a five-movement piano suite inspired by the text. These are sometimes seen as naïve, but often include striking imagery, like the Stravinsky-ian Dance of the Elephants and the sinuous Rikki-Tikki-Tavi and the Snake. Morning Song of the Jungle, however, is not programmatic. It is a serene character piece, evoking tranquil sunrises - whether in India’s jungles or by the misty Mersey at New Brighton.

Cyril Scott’s two pot-boilers are Lotus Land and Rainbow Trout. Both could be defined as being impressionistic. Christopher Howell has wisely chosen to omit the former, as there are dozens of recordings of this piece. The latter was written in 1916. It magically captures the vigorous, erratic movements of this delicious fish, complete with sparkling arpeggios and gentle melodies that paints a vivid picture of a glistening stream and the trout’s progress.

The Little Russian Suite was intended as “teaching music.” That said, a look at the score suggests that it is no cinch. There is little that is ‘Russian’ here save in the opening Air, where Scott quotes a tune from the finale of Tchaikovsky’s Serenade in C for strings (cited De’ath, line notes CDLX 7183). The Siberian Waltz seems to me a “souped up” salon piece with the final Dance being more like a passacaglia than a turn around the ballroom.

There are nods towards the Billy Mayerl style of piano playing in the First Bagatelle (1919) with its subtle swing and metric irregularities. Yet, Mayerl did not really get into his stride until the 1920s.

The first of Moods, Sadness, is introverted and seems to come to a halt every so often. Conversely, there are delightful spread chords to add to the interest. Lassitude is equally reserved. The last, Energy, is powerful and vigorous. Moods needs to be played as a set.

In 1915 the Butterfly Waltz was published by Schott. Leslie De’ath has suggested that this is a parody of then-fashionable salon and ballroom music. Equally tongue in cheek is the Inclination à la Danse (1922) which would appear to nod to Carl Maria von Weber. The final track on this disc is the delightfully romantic Valse Sentimentale (1929) with its cocktail piano atmosphere.

Christopher Howell is well known for his explorations of British piano music. These include complete editions of Charles Villiers Stanford and Alexander Mackenzie, as well as the ongoing survey of Charles Hubert Hastings Parry. He does not ignore continental composers. There are albums of Debussy’s Preludes and Haydn Sonatas.

The performance is splendid, and the recording is good. The liner notes are adequate but could have given more detailed information/analysis of each piece.

This is an essential disc for all Cyril Scott enthusiasts. It predates the massive cycle by Leslie De’ath by some ten years. However, as an enjoyable selection of the composer’s music, it has not been superseded.

Track Listing:
Cyril Scott (1879-1970)
Six Pieces, op.4 (1903)
Two Pierrot Pieces, op 35 (1904)
Sea-Marge: Meditation (1914)
Impressions from the Jungle Book (1912)
Rainbow Trout (1916)
Butterfly Waltz (1915)
A Little Russian Suite (1916)
First Bagatelle (1919)
Moods (1922)
Inclination à la Danse (1922)
Valse Sentimentale (1929)
Christopher Howell (piano)
rec. 15-16 July 1993, Regson Studios, Milan
Tremula TREM 104-2
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Introducing Constant Lambert Part II

Aside from being an important composer and conductor, Constant Lambert was also a perceptive critic. His major literary achievement was Music Ho! A Study of Music in Decline (1934). Despite being slightly eccentric, this volume presents his “very independent opinions” of the music of his generation. Ninety years on, it still makes for remarkably refreshing reading.

The first major biographical study was Richard Shead’s highly readable, Constant Lambert (Simon Publications, London, 1973, reissued by Thames Publishing in 1986). This book was originally authored just over 20 years after Lambert’s death. Unfortunately, Shead was hampered by the non-cooperation of some individuals, who could have made the story more accurate, especially concerning his personal relationships. That said, it remains an essential introduction to the man and his achievement.

The former poet laureate, Andrew Motion authored The Lamberts: George, Constant and Kit which is an important study of three members of the Lambert family. It was published in 1986 by Chatto and Windus. This tells of the “remarkable family…in which accomplishment and promise are cut short, again and again, by bohemian life at its most extravagant and self-destructive.” Motion examines the life and times of Constant, preceded by an analysis of his father, George, an artist and followed by Kit, his son, best recalled as the manager of the rock band The Who.

In 2014, The Boydell Press published Stephen Lloyd’s scholarly biography: Constant Lambert – Beyond the Rio Grande. In this volume “every example of the career and life of this extraordinary, multi-talented man is examined.” Important discussions explore his enthusiasm for jazz as well as his “long standing affair” with Margot Fonteyn. This definitive study presents the reader with numerous musical examples, extensive appendices (containing a catalogue of Lambert’s compositions, his journalism, broadcasts, as well as the Sadler’s Wells London Repertoire).

Constant Lambert on Record

It is fair to say that most of Constant Lambert’s published music has been recorded at least once. Although many of these have been deleted from the catalogues, numerous are available second hand, on YouTube and streaming.

An early highlight was a long-playing album featuring the Horoscope ballet, coupled with the suite from Brian Easdale’s Red Shoes. This was released in 1949 and featured The Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Lambert and Muir Mathieson (Easdale). It has been remastered in recent years on CD (ACMEM64CD).

In 1979 the Lyrita Record company issued the ballets Pomona and Romeo and Juliet. (SRCS.110/SRCD.215). The English Chamber Orchestra was conducted by Norman Del Mar. A major Lambert-only CD was released in 1992 on the Hyperion label, which included Summer’s Last Will and Testament, the Aubade Héroique and The Rio Grande. David Lloyd Jones conducted the English Northern Sinfonia with the Leeds Festival Chorus and the Chorus of Opera North (CDA66565). Two years later, the same company issued an important retrospective of Lambert’s less well-known music. This comprised the Concerto for piano and nine players, the remarkable Eight Poems of Li-Po sung by Philip Langridge, the Sonata for piano and the folk-tale Mr Bear Squash-You-All-Flat narrated by Nigel Hawthorne. The piano soloist was Ian Brown, accompanied by the Nash Ensemble (CDA66574).        

The year 1999 was good for Lambert enthusiasts. Hyperion (CDA67049) delivered the ballet scores of Pomona and Tiresias performed by the English Northern Philharmonia under the baton of David Lloyd-Jones. The same year saw ASV (CD WHL 2122) release a concert of Lambert’s music, including the Merchant Seaman Suite, the Piano Concerto (1924) as well as Pomona and the early ballet, the Prize Fight. The soloist was David Owen Norris, and the BBC Concert Orchestra was conducted by Barry Wordsworth. In 2006, Mark Bebbington recorded the piano repertoire on the Somm Label. (SOMMCD 062)

Over the years, several recordings have been published with Constant Lambert conducting concert and ballet music by a variety of composers such as Tchaikovsky, Elgar, Walton, and Waldteufel. Quite a few of Lambert’s ballet arrangements have appear on CD: Meyerbeer’s Les Patineurs, Liszt’s Dante Sonata and William Boyce’s The Prospect Before Us.

If you can only listen to one record…

One CD emerges as presenting a superb overview of Lambert’s achievement. In 1992, a selection of three important pieces was issued on the Argo label (436 118-2) – The Rio Grande, the Concerto for piano and nine players and the ballet suite from Horoscope. Barry Wordsworth conducted the BBC Singers and the BBC Concert Orchestra, with soloists Kathryn Stott, piano, and Della Jones, mezzo-soprano. This CD was subsequently reissued on Decca’s British Music Collection (473 424-2) in 2002. The Gramophone magazine (October 1992) considered that this album presented “essential works for anyone who wishes to gain a comprehensive prospect of Lambert.”

Finally, if you can only hear one work…

This must be Horoscope (1937). Here, Lambert explored “zodiacal theories” to create the book for this ballet score. It tells the story of a man born with the sun in Leo, and the moon in Gemini, and a woman, born with the moon in Gemini, but the sun in Virgo. The progress reflects Leo and Virgo trying to keep the lovers apart, but the Moon and Gemini finally bring them together.

The ballet has not been performed since the wartime tour of Holland when the orchestral parts and the scenery were lost. Luckily, a copy of the full score was retained in London. It is normally heard as an orchestral suite using only five or six of the nine surviving sections. Nevertheless, in 2004, Barry Wordsworth and the BBC Concert Orchestra made a fine recording of the complete ballet (ASV CD DCA 1168). It is coupled with William Walton’s Bach transcriptions, The Wise Virgins (1940).

Contemporary assessment suggests that Horoscope was a success because it is a perfect fusion of Constant Lambert’s music, Frederick Ashton’s choreography and Sophie Fedorovitch’s stage design. The score did not eschew melody and was richly orchestrated. One reviewer, Arnold Haskell, considered that “with Horoscope, ballet, now truly indigenous in England, reaches a splendid maturity.”

Concluded

With thanks to the English Music Festival’s journal, Spirited, where this essay was first published.

Introducing Constant Lambert Part I

On the evening of Monday 27 February 1928, the audience of the BBC wireless service heard the premiere performance of Constant Lambert’s The Rio Grande. The composer conducted the Wireless Chorus and Orchestra with the piano obligato played by Angus Morrison. This was part of ‘A Light Orchestral Concert’ which included works by Ambroise Thomas, Giuseppe Verdi and Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov.

The contemporary Radio Times explained to the readers that this new work is “a setting of a poem by Edith (sic) Sitwell, beginning – ‘On the Rio Grande/They don’t dance no Sarabande.’ What they dance instead is suggested in the music which, we are told, brings in fox-trot and Charleston rhythms.” Apart from a misquote of the poem and naming the wrong poet, it was in fact Sacheverell Sitwell, this is a succinct precis of this remarkable piece.

What was extraordinary about The Rio Grande was that Lambert had managed to synthesise several stylistic parameters: “African American music, including ragtime and blues, Latin American music, and exoticism.”  Biographer Richard Shead notes the “obvious” influences such as “jazz, Spanish military marches and tangos, Stravinsky in the rhythms and Delius in the harmonies.” It is not surprising that a link is made to George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. This had been first heard in Great Britain on 15 June 1925, in a live BBC broadcast from the Savoy Hotel with Gershwin as soloist and accompanied by the Savoy Orpheans and the Savoy Havana Band. It is not known if Constant Lambert heard this transmission, however two years later, he was to take the American’s “attempts to amalgamate elements of jazz and symphonic music” and create a new-minted British work.

Hubert Foss, in the programme note for the London public concert premiere of Rio Grande wrote: “The words are used as a background of atmosphere. They are something for the chorus to sing in the musical part it plays in the work. They are even subjected occasionally to word painting. Their picture is the picture the music gives: that is their whole connection, a very close one, with the music." Elsewhere Foss stated that in The Rio Grande there is “something more than English in this music, a feeling of the South and its blazing sun. He has his feet on English soil, but his mind escapes.”

Constant Lambert, with his The Rio Grande, had written one of two game changing British works of the 1930s. The other was William Walton’s Belshazzar’s Feast (1930-31).

Brief Biography of Constant Lambert:

• [Leonard] Constant Lambert was born at the St Clement's Nursing Home, Fulham, London, on 23 August 1905.
• Educated at Christ’s Hospital, Horsham, Sussex, between 1915 and 1922.
• Won a scholarship to the Royal College of Music, attending between 1922-25. His teachers were Herbert Fryer, piano, Ralph Vaughan Williams and R.O. Morris, composition, and Malcolm Sargent, conducting.
• Wrote his first major ballet score, Romeo and Juliet for Diaghilev. It was premiered in Monte Carlo on 4 May 1926.
• Best-known work, The Rio Grande for chorus, piano and orchestra was premiered on 27 February 1928.
• Appointed conductor of the Camargo Society in 1930. This lasted until June 1933 when the society was disbanded.
• Married Florence (Flo) Chuter on 5 August 1931. The only child, Christopher (Kit), was born on 11 May 1935.
• His idiosyncratic but lively and provocative study of the then-contemporary scene, Music Ho! A Study of Music in Decline was published during 1934.
• Lambert conducted the Vic-Wells (later the Sadler's Wells) from 1935 to 1947.
• His choral magnum opus, Summer’s Last Will and Testament was premiered on 29 January 1936, at the Queen’s Hall, London.
• Began an affair with the ballet dancer Margot Fonteyn in 1937. It lasted until 1947.
• The ballet Horoscope was premiered on 27 January 1938, at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre.
• Escaped capture in the Netherlands whilst on tour with the Sadler’s Wells ballet in 1940.
• Was associated with E.N.S.A. (Entertainments National Service Association) during the Second World War. In 1942, he was on the C.E.M.A. (Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts, predecessor of the Arts Council of Great Britain) music panel.
• Married his second wife, Isabel Agnes Delmer, née Nicholas, on 7 October 1947.
• Last major composition, the ballet Tiresias, first performed on 9 July 1951.
• Constant Lambert died at the London Clinic, 20 Devonshire Place, London on 21 August 1951. Cause of death was “broncho-pneumonia and undiagnosed diabetes mellitus,” complicated by acute alcoholism.

Constant Lambert was a complex character, who excelled in numerous different fields: composition, art appreciation, literature, and practical musicianship. In all he exhibited exceptional talent. Sadly, his composing was interrupted by his extensive conducting duties and the writing of a considerable amount of journalism.

Lambert’s tastes ranged widely and embraced Liszt, Meyerbeer, Purcell, Sousa, and jazz. As a conductor he interpreted a wide range of scores, in the ballet theatre as well as the concert hall. He was especially fond of encouraging less well-known composers.

His personal life gave him many problems, especially ill health, overindulgence in alcohol and difficulties with personal relationships. Yet, despite this, his legacy is secure as a major-minor composer. Furthermore, Lambert’s impact on English ballet was immense and ought not to be ignored by historians.

Exploring Constant Lambert’s Music

Constant Lambert’s catalogue is quite limited in extent, with around only twenty works published. He destroyed many of his student efforts. His earliest surviving piece is the Two Songs on poems by Sacheverell Sitwell, written in 1923. They remain in manuscript.

Lambert’s first ballet score, Prize Fight: Realistic Ballet in one act is less ‘realistic,’ but nods to the music hall or the “aesthetics” of Erik Satie and Jean Cocteau. Despite being completed, it was never presented as a ballet. Its first performance had to wait until 1969, when it was heard during that year’s Bromsgrove Festival.

Subsequent ballet scores followed. The great impresario Sergei Diaghilev commissioned the 20-year-old Lambert to compose a major score for the Ballets Russes. Romeo and Juliet was penned between 1924-25 and was premiered on 4 May 1926, by the Diaghilev Ballet company at Monte Carlo. There were disagreements between Lambert and Diaghilev over a change of scenario, the sets, and the costumes. He tried to withdraw his score; it had to be placed under police guard until after the premiere.

There was less controversy over Pomona: a ballet in one act (1926) which was first heard as a Divertimento at the Chelsea Music Club on 16 November 1926. The premiere of the ballet was given in Buenos Aires, Argentine on 9 September 1927. The book was based on the classical Ovidian story of Pomona and Vertumnus. Ten years later, Lambert finished his ballet, Horoscope (1937) (see below). His final original ballet score was Tiresias (1950-51), commissioned for the Festival of Britain. This was an exploration of various classical themes of sexual ambiguity, shape shifting and an argument about which of the sexes enjoys the “physical act” the more. It is scored for an orchestra without strings, which enhances its acerbic sound. It was premiered at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden on 9 July 1951 by the Sadler’s Wells Ballet.

Other contributions to the ballet repertoire were arrangements of many other composers’ music. These include Harlequin in the Street (Couperin), Apparitions (Liszt), Les Patineurs (Meyerbeer) and Ballabile (Chabrier).

Lambert wrote little for the piano. Best known is the jazz infused, lugubrious, Elegiac Blues (1927) dedicated to the American cabaret singer Florence Mills. Jazz does pervade the Piano Sonata (1928-29) but reflects the “outbursts of violence” and the “melancholy” side of that genre. It is powerful and displays considerable invention and formal subtlety.

In 1924, Lambert was busy on his Concerto for piano, two trumpets, timpani, and strings. It remained incomplete at the time of his death. The sketches were edited by Giles Easterbrook, and Edward Shipley. It was premiered at St John’s Smith Square, London on 2 March 1988. Ian Lace (MusicWeb International) discerned the influence of Prokofiev, Ravel, Poulenc, Stravinsky, and Delius. This is a remarkable effort for a nineteen-year-old “college boy.”  It is a vibrant work that deserves its place in the repertoire. Seven years later, Lambert would finish his Concerto for piano and nine instruments (1931). This was a tribute to Peter Warlock who had died the previous year. Listeners looking for a reprise of his more popular jazzier inspirations may be disappointed. To be sure, the Manchester Guardian reported that it “[comes] recognisably from the pen that wrote The Rio Grande, but with added maturity and astringency which will probably prevent it from becoming popular.”  The Concerto, which is in three movements, is unusual in that the finale is, in fact, the slow movement. The overall sweep of the work is from high spirits to gloom.

Summer’s Last Will and Testament: A Masque for orchestra, chorus, and baritone solo (1932-35), is one of Lambert’s most important works. It sets texts by the Elizabethan author Thomas Nashe. Richard Shead has explained that Nashe’s text is “ostensibly concerned with the seasons, but their underlying theme is the precariousness of life in Elizabethan London and the ever-present danger of the Plague.”  Historically, Summer’s Last Will got off to a bad start. It was premiered on 29 January 1936, only nine days after the death of King George V. The public and the critics were in no mood for what appeared a long morbid take on “mortality.” It has languished ever since: it was given its one and only recording in 1991.

Other important orchestral pieces were a Aubade Héroïque for orchestra (1942) which was inspired by Lambert’s experience of waiting to be evacuated from Holland in 1940. Its mood owes much to Ralph Vaughan Williams. Richard Shead explains that the Music for Orchestra (1927) is one of the few examples of Lambert’s genuinely abstract works. Despite its dull title, this two-movement symphonic study is full of romance, imaginative scoring, and supressed intensity.

Towards the end of his life, Lambert composed music for the film industry: the documentary Merchant Seamen (1940) and the feature Anna Karenina (1947).

To be continued…

With thanks to the English Music Festival’s journal, Spirited, where this essay was first published.