It's not British, but...Made in USA - American Piano Music

Originally devised for Paul Whiteman and his band, Rhapsody in Blue has become one of the iconic examples of American music. It combines jazz, blues, and ragtime in a masterpiece of crossover between classical/romantic and what in 1924 was ‘pop.’ Over the years numerous arrangements have been made including well-known orchestrations by Ferde Grofé, and transcriptions for piano duet. The present version, made by the composer, is for solo piano. The Rhapsody was first heard at the Aeolian Hall, New York on 12 February 1924, played by the Paul Whiteman Orchestra with George Gershwin at the piano.

From the famous opening clarinet solo to the final peroration, Claire Huangci gives an urbane account of the Rhapsody. Her recording seems taken at a relaxed pace yet is only just over fifteen minutes long. Many soloists take up to nineteen minutes. Her balance between the exigencies of jazz playing and high blown Listzian bombast is never in doubt. This is a splendid performance that is faithful to Gershwin’s genius.

Amy Beach’s Variations on Balkan Themes, op.60 for solo piano is regarded as her magnum opus. They were written in 1904 and premiered by her the following year. There was to be a revision in 1936, when she was encouraged to make several cuts. I understand that she also produced an edition for two pianos as well as some abandoned attempts at orchestration which were later completed by Hector Valdivia.

The liner notes explain that Beach was fascinated by folk song, especially that of Native Americans, as well as those brought across the Atlantic from England, Scotland, and Ireland. Yet, this present piece was based on songs from the Balkans, which had been collected by the Reverend William Sleeper, who functioned as a missionary there. The preface to the score lists the ‘found’ material from Serbia, Bulgaria, and Macedonia. That said, it should be noted that not all the melodies are “ancient.”  The most important is O Maiko Moya (Oh, my Poor Country!) which acts as a unifying theme throughout, which reflects on Serbia’s historic occupation by foreign powers. Other tunes include Macedonia! Stara Planina, an “ancient hymns to the mountains” as well as a dance-tune Nasadil ye Dado (Grandpa has planted a little garden). Highlights must include the magical Barcarola and the Allegro all’ ‘Ongarese.

The listener will hear echoes of Chopin and Liszt in these pages. And perhaps even Rachmaninov. Yet, this is not pastiche, but an outstanding synthesis of romantic styles. Beach has responded (at second hand) to the vicious revolutionary activity in the Balkan territories against the ruling Ottoman Empire with a work that is melancholy, on occasion lively and always virtuosic. Huangci gives a glowing account of these Variations. I hope she intends to explore Amy Beach’s music in greater depth in the recording studio.

Remarkably, Samuel Barber’s Sonata in E flat minor for piano, op.26 was commissioned by American Songbook composers, Irving Berlin, and Richard Rogers. Yet, the resultant work can hardly be described as “popular.”

The booklet points out that it is far removed in style and impact from the Adagio for strings (1936) or the “dance rhythms” of his Excursions, op.20 for piano, written between 1942 and 1944.

The Sonata’s opening movement is penetrating and ominous. Was Barber using twelve-tone techniques to create overly chromatic and tentative explorations? Suddenly its progress moves into a romantic humour before the opening mood returns and ending enigmatically. The second movement is a “scherzo” that could be described as “light, elfin, [and] sardonic.” Certainly, this is spicy and sparkling music. The Adagio-mesto is introspective, with its ostinato underlying twelve-tone patterns. Yet there is a neoclassical feel here that is in contrast to what has gone before. The finale deploys a complex four-part fugue “of fantastic difficulty.” (Poulenc). Here, amongst the dizzying mechanics of fugue, Barber interposes an episode with “an American folk-dance flavour.” This four-movement sonata is a wonderful example of Barber’s fusion of tradition and innovation. Francis Poulenc described it as being “tragic, joyful, and lyrical in turn.” All the emotional variety is explored in this recording.

I have always been an admirer of American pianist Earl Wild. Often regarded as one of the last in the trajectory of Romantic pianists, his performances projected passion, virtuosity, and emotional depth. Wild was highly adept at making transcriptions of classical and jazz. These reimaginings included Baroque composers such as Handel and Marcello, as well as Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky, Berlioz, and Gershwin.

The liner notes explain that this last connection was “logical,” as in 1942 Arturo Toscanini had invited Wild to be the soloist in a major recording of Rhapsody in Blue with the NBC Orchestra.

The Seven Virtuoso Etudes after Gershwin were transcribed over a period of years between 1954 and 1976. Using Gershwin’s “simplified” piano arrangements of seven of his songs, Wild has created a series of “encores” that he would play at recitals. These included, “Liza,” “Somebody Loves Me,” “The Man I Love,” “Embraceable You,” “Lady, Be Good!” “I Got Rhythm,” and “Fascinatin’ Rhythm.”

Wild’s technical wizardry includes dense block chords, rapid scalar passages, much use of arpeggios and counter melodies. There are nods to Ravel, Liszt, and Chopin but it is always within the competence of nineteenth century romanticism and later impressionism.

A crucial point to note is that these Etudes transcend any notion of technical exercises. They are all magical evocations of Gershwin’s originals. The present soloist has taken on the challenge of these extremely difficult pieces and has produced an awe-inspiring account.

The American pianist Claire Huangci was born in Rochester, New York. She won the first prize and the Mozart prize at the 2018 Geza Anda Competition. Her resume states that she “continuously captivates audiences with her “radiant virtuosity, artistic sensitivity, keen interactive sense and subtle auditory dramaturgy”” (Salzburger Nachrichten). With an especial interest in “unusual repertoire” she explores a wide range of music, from Bach and Scarlatti, to Bernstein, Gulda, and Corigliano. She has performed at many important venues, including the Carnegie Hall, New York and the Suntory Hall, Tokyo.

The liner notes give a great introduction to the four pieces, setting them in the context of “American Classics.” They are printed in English, French and German.

Overall, this is a brilliant, well-judged recital, exploring works that are both familiar and lesser known. The Amy Beach was a new but rewarding experience for me. At every turn, Claire Huangci gives ideal performances of all this music, complimented by a clear and vibrant recording.

Track Listing:
George Gershwin (1898-1937)
Rhapsody in Blue (1924)
Amy Beach (1867-1944)
Variations on Balkan Themes, op.60 (1904, rev. 1936)
Samuel Barber (1910-81)
Piano Sonata in E flat minor, op.26 (1947-49)
Earl Wild (1915-2010)
Seven Virtuoso Etudes after Gershwin (1954 and 1973)
Claire Huangci (piano)
rec. February 2024, Leibniz Saal, Hanover, Germany
Alpha Classics Alpha 1071

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

Frederick Delius: Air & Dance for string orchestra

Frederick Delius’ (1862-1934) Air and Dance is a ‘wartime’ work that was composed in 1915 whilst the composer and his wife were living at Grove Mill House near Watford. Thomas Beecham had most likely taken a lease on this house, which was near his estate, to allow the couple to escape the rigours of the war in Grez-sur-Loing. Whilst at Watford, Delius also wrote his Double Concerto for violin, cello and orchestra.

The Air and Dance remained unpublished until the score was ‘discovered’ by Peter Warlock when visiting Delius at Grez during 1929. The work was originally scored for string orchestra, however a number of arrangements have been made subsequently, including for piano solo by Eric Fenby and for flute and piano by James Galway.

The premiere was at a private concert held at Lady Cunard’s London house during 1915 under Sir Thomas Beecham. The first public performance was given at the Aeolian Hall in London on 16 October 1929 also conducted by Beecham. Alan Jefferson in his study of the composer stated that the work’s dedication to the National Institute for the Blind dated from 1929 and was not ‘any premonition of…his [Delius’] impending blindness’ during the First World War.

The form of this delightful work is extremely simple. The piece opens with a dreamy, reflective tune that meanders towards the livelier ‘dance’. However near the end of the work the original air is reprised for a few bars before the piece closes on a positive note. It is a touching work that fully reflects Frederick Delius’s mature style.

Listen to the Academy of St Martin’s in the Field, under the baton of Neville Marriner performing Delius’s Air and Dance, on YouTube, here. The video includes the score.

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

Serenade: Chamber Music by Krenek, Gál and Penderecki

Austrian-born Ernst Krenek’s development as a composer was wide-ranging. Beginning his career in the music salons of Weimar Republic Berlin, he explored diverse styles. He developed a post romantic idiom, neo-classicism, atonality, his own brand of serialism and even electronics. In 1938, due to the political situation, he emigrated to the United States. His catalogue included symphonies, operas, and chamber music. His best-known work was the jazz-inspired opera Jonny Spielt Auf (1926).

Krenek’s Serenade for clarinet, violin, viola and cello, op.4 was completed in 1919, whilst he was studying with Franz Schreker in Vienna. It was premiered two years later at the Donaueschingen Chamber Music Performances for the advancement of contemporary music.

The Serenade is in two movements, however the second has five sections, which in this recording are labelled individually. It is in a late romantic style, with some neo-classical overtones. Yet here and there, Krenek becomes harder edged, reflecting the post-First World War situation. Overall, the mood is lyrical and approachable. Many years ago, the critic Tom Cleman remarked that the stylistic parameters are “delineated by the landmarks set up by Claude Debussy, Max Reger, Richard Strauss, and perhaps Alexander Scriabin.” This holds good, but I would add that there are hints of expressionism, as exemplified by the slow movement’s nod to Arnold Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht.

This is a world premiere recording. It is splendidly played by the present ensemble, who are great advocates for this “forgotten” piece.

Hans Gál was a Viennese composer, who like Krenek found it impossible to live under the Nazi regime. In 1938 he fled to Britain, was interned, but later took up residence in Edinburgh. At the behest of musicologist Donald Tovey, he worked at Edinburgh University, where, in 1945 he was appointed a lecturer. Without being demeaning, much of Gál’s catalogue could be regarded as being “retro.” He looked back rather than forward in his aesthetic. Brahms had a major impact, but so did the “playful humour of early classicism,” and the “extended tonality of early 20^th century music.”  He never adopted serial technique. His music is nearly always lyrical and restrained.

The present Serenade for clarinet, violin and cello, op.93 is a pre-war piece, having been written in 1935. Its four movements are typically relaxed. The opening Cantabile balances an almost pastoral opening with a prickly second subject. The scherzo, Burletta, is the other way round. Here the ‘trio’ presents the lyrical mood whilst the ‘minuet’ section is sarcastic and dark. The slow movement, a short Intermezzo is lugubrious, with its pizzicato strings and sad melody. This leads to a cadenza, before the Giocoso brings the Serenade to a happy-ever-after conclusion, but not before a lovely little tune is expounded.

People of a certain age will recall Krzysztof Penderecki’s impact as an innovative disciple of the avant-garde. Making his name with the Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima for string orchestra (1960), and later the St Luke’s Passion (1966) he used various techniques such as the “juxtaposition of sound masses,” extended instrumental techniques and graphic scores. Yet, in the mid-1970s his style made a major change. To the chagrin of his progressive fans, he looked back to Bruckner and Liszt for inspiration. An early indication of this was his 1977 Violin Concerto.

The Quartet for clarinet, violin, viola, and cello was completed in 1993. Penderecki declared that he had been encouraged to write the Clarinet Quartet after “rediscovering Schubert’s great C major Quintet” while attending a concert of that work performed by Mstislav Rostropovich and the Emerson Quartet. Although not a precise model for the present piece, both share a sense of melancholy and tenderness.

The opening movement’s gentle dialogue between clarinet and viola provides a sad start. The Scherzo is rapid, quicksilver and is followed by a parody of a Viennese waltz. The final movement, Abschied, does echo the elder composer’s sadness visible towards the end of his life.

In preparing for this review, I came across an excellent summation of the Clarinet Quartet’s stylistic parameters: “[it] creates the impression of a retrospective of European art music from the first half of the twentieth century, perhaps the missing link in Penderecki’s own oeuvre.” Composers that have infused this Quartet are Beethoven and Schubert, but also that of Schoenberg, in its wayward waltz, and even Alban Berg. In this Quartet, Penderecki combines austerity of sound with a deep emotional statement. It was premiered on 13 August 1993 in Lübeck, Germany.

The star of the show is clarinettist, Kilian Herold, but the three other performers are integral to the disc’s success. The liner notes by Johannes Jansen give an outstanding introduction to the music, concentrating on context. The recording is clear, dynamic, and well balanced.

These are convincing accounts that explore these rare but rewarding works.

Track Listing:
Ernst Krenek (1900-91)
Serenade for clarinet, violin, viola and cello, op.4 (1919)
Hans Gál (1890-1987)
Serenade for clarinet, violin and cello, op.93 (1935)
Krzysztof Penderecki (1933-2020)
Quartet for clarinet, violin, viola, and cello (1993)
Kilian Herold (clarinet), Florian Donderer (violin), Barbara Buntrock (viola), Tanja Tetzlaff (cello)
rec. September/October 2021, Hans-Rosbaud-Studio, SWR Kultur Baden-Baden, Germany
AVI Music AVI8553537
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Introducing Charles Hubert Hastings Parry

Sadly, most “music lovers” know only a single work by Parry – Jerusalem. This is sung at the Last Night of the Proms (often in Elgar’s arrangement) and is often heard at various sporting events and national occasions. It is the unofficial English national anthem. And churchgoers will know the hymn tune Repton, sung to the words Dear Lord and Father of Mankind. There is also the anthem I was glad, performed at Coronations since Edward VII.

Yet this is an unfair estimation of a great musician who was a composer, teacher, administrator, and historian. Along with Charles Villiers Stanford and Alexander Mackenzie, he played a significant role in the English Musical Renaissance towards the end of the long 19^th century.

Another side of Parry’s career was his dedication to teaching. The list of his pupils is impressive and reads like a roll call of late Victorian/early 20^th century music: Hamish McCunn, Arthur Somervell, Walford Davies, William Hurlstone, Samuel Colridge Taylor, Gustav Holst, Ralph Vaughan Williams, Frank Bridge and John Ireland.

Parry was also a practiced author with sundry important books to his credit. These included The Evolution of the Art of Music (1896), J.S. Bach: The Story of the Development of a Great Personality (1909), Style in Musical Art (1911) as well as articles for Grove’s Dictionary.

Brief Biography

• Charles Hubert Hastings Parry was born at 2 Richmond Terrace, Bournemouth on 27 February 1848.
• Attended preparatory school in Malvern between 1856 and 1858.
• In 1861 he went up to Eton College.
• Studied law and history at Exeter College, Oxford from 1867.
• From 1870-1877 Parry was an underwriter at Lloyds in London.
• Further studies with William Sterndale Bennett and Edward Dannreuther in London and Henry Hugo Pierson in Stuttgart
• Breakthrough with his Piano Concerto in F sharp (1878-79) and his Scenes from Shelley's "Prometheus Unbound" for contralto, tenor, bass, chorus & orchestra (1880)
• Moved to Knightscroft House, Sea Lane, Rustington in 1881.
• Appointed choragus (festival director) during 1883.
• During 1883, Parry began to teach at the Royal College of Music (RCM).
• Appointed director of the RCM in 1895, holding the post until his death.
• Succeeded John Stainer as Professor of Music at Oxford University in 1900.
• Wrote his best-known piece, Jerusalem in 1916.
• Hubert Parry died at his home, in Rustington on 7 October 1918.

Twelve Selected Works

Parry composed across a wide variety of genres. This includes the opera Guinevere, five symphonies, a piano concerto, orchestral pieces, and incidental music, and was prolific in vocal music with cantatas, oratorios, anthems, and song. He wrote effective chamber music for diverse ensembles and various instrumental combinations. Stylistically, it may be an oversimplification to suggest that his main influences were Brahms and Wagner, but it gives a good rule of thumb in approaching his catalogue.

1. Sonata in A major for cello and piano (pub. 1883)
2. Trio in G major for violin, cello & pianoforte c. 1884–90
3. Overture to an Unwritten Tragedy (c.1893)
4. Lady Radnor’s Suite for strings (c.1894, pub.1902)
5. Symphony No.4 in E minor (c.1899)
6. Anthem "I was glad" (c.1902, pub 1903)
7. Ode on the Nativity for Soprano solo, chorus, and orchestra (1912)
8. Symphony Fantasy (Symphony No. 5) in B minor (c.1912, pub. 1922)
9. Shulbrede Tunes for piano, (pub.1914)
10. Six Motets: Songs of Farewell (1916-18)
11. Toccata and Fugue in G major and E minor, "The Wanderer" (posthumous) (pub. 1921)
12. An English Suite for strings (posthumous), (pub. 1921)

Further Reading

The most important ‘recent’ volume is the fine biography by Jeremy Dibble – C. Hubert H. Parry: His Life and Music (1992). This is the main reference point for anyone wishing to explore his achievement. More than twenty-five years ago, Ashgate published Bernard Benoliel’s study Parry before Jerusalem (1997). This is part monograph and part a collection of writings by the composer. There is an interesting study of the Parry family in Anthony Boden’s The Parry’s of Golden Vale: Background to Genius (1998).

More recent volumes include Parry’s Creative Process by Michael Allis (2010), and Hubert Parry - A Life in Photographs by Michael Trott (2018).

A previous generation produced two important texts - J Fuller Maitland’s short The Music of Parry and Stanford: An Essay in Comparative Criticism (1934) and Charles L. Graves’ hagiographical Hubert Parry (1926) in two volumes. Apart from articles in the musical press, a diverse collection of reviews and the odd hard to obtain thesis or dissertation that is about it.

If you can only hear one CD…
Much of Hubert Parry’s music has been recorded. This includes most of the orchestral works including all the symphonies, the complete organ music, ongoing cycles of the piano works and solo song. There are several CDs devoted to the chamber music, including the Cello Sonata, the Piano Trios, and String Quartet. The vocal music has not been ignored, with recordings of Blest Pair of Sirens and a recent production of Scenes from Shelley's "Prometheus Unbound." Although not a conventional Christian, Parry wrote much music suitable for “quires and places where they sing.” A great deal of this is available on CD.

An excellent introduction to Parry’s music is Sir Adrian Boult’s account of the Symphony No.5, Blest Pair of Sirens, the Symphonic Variations, and an Elegy for Brahms released by EMI on CDM 5 65107 2. Blest Pair of Sirens is one of the enduring masterpieces from the late nineteenth-century. It was premiered in London on 17 May 1887, to considerable acclaim. It sets words from John Milton’s At a Solemn Musick.

Rob Barnett (MusicWeb International, 7 September 2007) that “Parry's overture-length Elegy for Brahms in fact had to wait until 1918 for its premiere. At that stage it had been revised by Stanford who conducted it at the Parry Memorial Concert at the RCM on 8 November 1918. Boult makes this Elegy shine in a golden aureole which celebrates Brahms rather than laments him.”

Finally, the wonderful Symphonic Variations (1897) are worth exploring. It is based on a simple, but virile folksong-like theme that Parry masterfully weaves through a series of Brahmsian inventions. This is not an academic set of variations, but a resourceful composition with echoes of Brahms, Dvorak, and Elgar. It should be in the orchestral repertoire.

If you can only listen to one work…

This must Charles Hubert Hastings Parry’s Fifth Symphony which was written for the centenary of the Royal Philharmonic Society and was duly heard at the Queen’s Hall on 5 December 1912 with the composer conducting. Along with From Death to Life, it is his most mature orchestral work.

The original title was Symphony in four linked movements in B minor, 1912. However, at the second performance it was called the ‘Fifth Symphony’ and finally, the printed score is entitled Symphonic Fantasia in B minor “1912” with ‘Symphony’ as a subtitle. 

It is presented in four interconnected movements, each with titles: Stress, Love, Play and Now. The Symphony is still satisfying if these designations are ignored. The work is cyclic with the opening material appearing in various guises throughout.

The musicologist Michael Pope (Liner Notes CDM 5 65107 2) has advocated that “the first movement Stress indicates revolt against the tragedy of life. The slow movement suggests that in human love, calling and answering, lies the true hope of healing. The Scherzo represents inextinguishable instinct of humanity for fun and humour. The Finale is particularly notable for the beautiful first subject representing hopefulness. This is later extinguished by tragedy, which is then transformed into the major key, and, in the light of love, becomes a token of healing.”

The entire work consists of an emotional journey, and benefits from the composer’s mastery of orchestration.

The London Philharmonic Orchestra under Matthias Bamert’s account of Charles Hubert Hastings Parry's Symphony No.5 in B minor can be heard on YouTube

Ralph Vaughan Williams: Royal Throne of Kings

This is the most intriguing disc that I have reviewed (so far) in 2024. Let me explain. Virtually all the works are heard here for the first time. Often, they have been arranged or realised by hands other than Ralph Vaughan Williams. They are an exploration into a corner of his catalogue, that although known to me, I never imagined I would hear.

The press release explains that RVW was enamoured with Shakespeare and was inspired by him “throughout his long composing career.”

The concert opens with Richard III: My Kingdom for a Horse from incidental music written in 1913 for Francis Robert Benson’s Shakespearean season at Stratford-upon-Avon. Benson (1858-1939) was an actor/manager who ran his own company. He had a thirty-year association with Stratford. Michael Kennedy, in his catalogue, notes that the surviving manuscript includes the Hampshire Dargason, a Requiem derived from his score to Richard II and the present piece. Lasting for only 47 seconds this “filmic” music makes a great overture. It was edited by composer, organist and scholar, Malcolm Riley.

Although RVW had produced a score for Benson’s 1913 production of Richard II, he did not reuse this material when he came to prepare the score for a 1944 radio broadcast. Kennedy notes that there are “thirty-four timed sections to cover fifteen scenes. Nathaniel Lew has assembled these in a satisfying Concert Fantasy. A précis of the play would suggest that “In Richard II,’ the titular king wrestles with his sense of self and confronts the repercussions of his choices. Deposed from the throne, he reflects on power, fate, and the fragility of authority. The play weaves political intrigue and poetic introspection, leaving us pondering the nature of leadership and downfall.” Although Lew does not follow the progress of the plot, his resultant score is certainly sympathetic to the play’s temper. It is a worthy addition to RVW’s catalogue.

A bonus on this CD are several songs. These are all sung with innocent beauty by Eloise Irving.

The Willow Song is an early, unpublished piece for voice and piano dating from 1897. The tune was “found” in a book of lute solos. The words are from Othello, with Desdemona reflecting on love, treachery, and impending tragedy.

Everyone enjoys the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. RVW set Shakespeare’s Orpheus and his Lute, with a text taken from Henry VIII, Act III Scene 1. It was completed in 1903 and had its premiere at the Bechstein Hall on 2 December 1904.

Vaughan Williams made another setting of these words in 1925. It was the last number from his Three Songs from Shakespeare. The other two are Take, O take, those lips away and When icicles hang by the wall, the former from Measure for Measure and the latter, Love’s Labour Lost. All three are gnomic in impact and certainly the last is more austere than the 1903 edition.

The incidental music for King Henry IV, Part 2 was also composed for F.B. Benson’s 1913 season. Once again this “Suite” has been realised by Malcolm Riley. The liner notes explain that RVW “drew freely on existing folk dances and other sources” as well as his own music for other plays. The first movement, the reflective Induction uses a tune from the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, Alman in G minor. This may have been used as an overture to the play. Livelier is Falstaff and Prince Hal, using Halfe Hannikin, which first appeared in Playford’s English Dancing Master of 1651. A traditional dance is provided for the Princess Royal movement. As far as I recall, there is no such character in this play, but I guess RVW used an eponymous tune. The heart of this Suite is the beautiful Music to my Weary Spirit which accompanied the king’s death in Act IV. It is a transcription of Dowland’s Pavane Lachrymae played on muted strings. It is the loveliest thing on this disc and could well be excerpted by a well-known classical radio station. The fifth movement, Arrest, is a fetching arrangement of Lady in the Dark, from Playford’s later The English Dancing-Master dating from 1657. This is followed by a lively Gloria Tibi, which is a splendid miniature anthem. The Suite ends with a lively, Happy Life, which takes its title from King Henry’s earnest wish for his son: “No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, God shorten Harry’s happy life one day!” This is a lovely Suite that should have a life beyond this disc.

The most significant work on this disc is the premiere recording of the original Henry V Overture. It was written for Benson’s 1913 season at Stratford. Long known in its incarnation for brass band, which was completed in 1933, but not performed until 1979. The original score has been lost. However, Malcolm Riley and David Owen Norris have reconstructed the original from the remaining orchestral parts kept by the Shakespeare Trust. It is quite different to the brass band version. Gone are the “martial fanfares” and the pastoral section based on an old French melody. The two main tunes heard are the Agincourt Carol and the Earl of Oxford’s March. This “vigorously nationalistic medley” is both satisfying and uplifting as befits Shakespeare’s noble play that examines courage, doubt, and destiny. It is another important addition to RVW’s discography.

Source-wise, the most complex work on this fascinating CD is the Stratford Suite, realised by Nathaniel Lew. It is based on music composed for five plays produced at the above-mentioned Stratford Festival. These include Henry IV Part II, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Richard II, Richard III, and Twelfth Night. The liner notes explain that the “cues used include thirteen arrangements of folk songs, one hymn tune based on plainchant, three original compositions, two fanfares, and one phrase of a march from the mid-seventeenth-century Elizabeth Rogers Virginal Book.” The “original” music includes the Royal March and the Prelude to Act II of Richard II and the Solemn March from Richard III. The booklet lists the “found” melodies. The arrangement of Greensleeves is quite as ravishing as the more famous Fantasia, but without the central section, Lovely Joan. As a Ricardian who believes that the misaligned Duke of Gloucester needs to be reassessed and a balanced view projected, I declare the short Solemn March is a fitting tribute. I hope that this Suite becomes a favourite with orchestras both professional and amateur. It is a sumptuous re-creation of RVW’s music by Nathaniel Lew.

I do wish that Malcolm Riley’s exquisite transcription of the Dirge for Fidele lasted longer. This beautiful piece for string orchestra and harp will remind the listener of the sheer perfection of RVW’s Dives and Lazarus. Originally devised for two mezzo-sopranos and piano, it was issued in 1922 as a standalone arrangement of Fear no more the heat o’ the sun from Cymbeline, Act IV.

The final offering is Two Shakespeare Sketches from The England of Elizabeth. Once again this has a complex genesis. In 1955, RVW was commissioned to write the score for the British Transport Film The England of Elizabeth. Some years later, the conductor and composer Muir Mathieson adapted the score for the concert hall. Three movements celebrated Oriana as Explorer, Poet, and Queen. This has been recorded a number of times, by Andrew Penny, Andre Previn, and others. At around the same time, Mathieson arranged two sections from the Poet movement. These are adaptations based on two sixteenth-century songs, The Wind and the Rain and It was a lover and His Lass. The first has a prominent fiddle part whilst the second is solid and a touch rumbustious. A CD of nearly all the music from the score was issued on CHAN 10244 in an edition by Stephen Hogger.

The recording is excellent. Equally good are the liner notes developed by John Francis and Malcolm Riley, with additional material from Nathaniel Lew and David Owen Norris. Short resumes of the performers are included. The booklet is well-illustrated, with a wonderful painting Richard III by an unknown artist.

Performances by the Kent Sinfonia and the Albion Chorus, under their director James Ross are outstanding. Soloists Eloise Irving and Malcolm Riley give ideal performances of the songs.

An essential investment for all RVW enthusiasts.

Track Listing:
Richard III: My Kingdom for a Horse (1913) ed. Malcolm Riley (b.1960)
Richard II Concert Fantasy (1944) arr. Nathaniel Lew (?)
The Willow Song (1897)
Henry IV Part II (1913) arr. Malcolm Riley
Orpheus with his Lute (1903)
Henry V Overture (Original Version) (1913) ed. David Owen Norris (b.1953) and Malcolm Riley
Three Songs from Shakespeare (1925)
Stratford Suite (1913) arr. Nathaniel Lew
Dirge for Fidele (1922) arr. for strings and harp, arr. Malcolm Riley
The England of Elizabeth (1955): Two Shakespeare Sketches arr. Muir Mathieson (1911-75)
Kent Sinfonia/James Ross (Richard III, Richard II, Henry IV Part II, Henry V, Stratford Suite, Dirge, The England of Elizabeth); Albion Singers/James Ross (Gloria Tibi, Henry IV Part II); Eloise Irving (soprano), Malcolm Riley (piano) (The Willow Song, Orpheus, Three Songs)
rec. 16-17 February 2024 St. Gregory and St. Martin’s Church, Wye, Kent (orchestral works); 29 April 2024 St. Leonard’s Church, Hythe, Kent (songs)
Texts included.
Albion ALBCD062

John Ireland Prelude in E flat for piano (1924)

Amongst John Ireland’s (1879-1962) better-known compositions for piano such as Sarnia, Decorations and the Piano Sonata, there is the enigmatic Prelude in E flat. Completed whilst he was living in London, it was dedicated to Arthur George Miller (1905-86), the son a Chelsea antique dealer and chorister at St Luke’s Church. It was one of seven pieces dedicated to this young man, although not specifically noted on the score, the clue is the date at the end of the score, 22 February 1924, which was Miller’s birthday. Other works dedicated to Miller include On a Birthday Morning (1922), Bergomask (1925) and February’s Child (1929).

The Prelude was originally entitled Penumbra, but this was crossed out in the score. It is difficult to know what sense of the word Ireland meant but possibly “a penumbra of secrecy?” Fiona Richards (** p.230) has identified two further “fainter pencil mark” on the holograph – ‘Long Dawn’ and ‘Before Sunrise.’ She has suggested that there may be a literary link with a poem by Algernon Swinburne entitle ‘Prelude,’ from his Songs before Sunrise. This poem is “about youth, and the passing of pleasure and passion.”

Conceived as a ‘processional,’ the Prelude opens with a descending five note scale richly harmonised. (Fig.1). From this motif develops much of the ongoing material. The chords are dense, with many added notes. In fact, this could be described as “turgid.”   

Fig.1

There is a secondary theme, presented in the right hand as a single line of melody, (Fig.2) with triadic accompaniment. The work ends after a short cadenza with a quiet close.  

Fig.2

Alan Rowlands has stated that “…it comes closest to revealing something of Ireland the man. It is written in an intensely subjective vein, and it is characteristic that the serene E-flat tonality of the opening phrase turns almost at once to C minor. This music has strong links with that called up in Ireland by his settings of some of the most tormented poems of Hardy and Housman, and it needs many hearings to reveal fully its extraordinary qualities. One most beautiful passage is that written in small notes on the second page- it occurs again at the end, a succession of descending chords, (Fig.3) each dissonance dissolving into the next, is followed by a nostalgic modal cadence, plaintively repeated. No other composer could have written this.” (Liner Notes, REAM 3112).

Fig.3

The Prelude in E flat was premiered on 13 January 1925, by Harriet Cohen, at the Wigmore Hall during a concert of music by William Byrd, John Bull, Josef Haydn, and Arnold Bax. It was published by Augener & Co. during 1925.

The Daily Telegraph (15 January 1925, p.4) reviewer considered that “The chief interest in the modern compositions centred in a Prelude of Mr. John Ireland, which Miss Cohen played last night for the first time "on any stage." Like other compositions of Mr. John Ireland's it does not reveal all its worth at a first hearing. Miss Cohen made it evident that it is effectively written and quite up-to-date technically. Whether the ideas expressed really need such an elaborate apparatus, and whether clarity is one of its qualities, are questions which could only be answered after a second performance. Last night it was very well received, hut the reticent composer, who was present, did not acknowledge the applause of the audience.”

In a long assessment of “New Music” in the Musical Times, (March 1925, p.230) the critic suggested that “John Ireland's Prelude in E flat is a grimly serious bit of work, with some characteristic clashings. It is not extremely difficult in regard to technique, but it calls for a good deal on the mental side.”

Colin Scott-Scott Sutherland (in Foreman, 2011, p.14) remarked that “the Prelude in E flat [was] given no other title, The term ‘Prelude’ has little relation to Chopin or Scriabin but is used by Ireland as if it were a programmatic title, implying the opening of some sombre ritual with his dark incantations.”

Listen to John Ireland’s Prelude in E flat for piano on YouTube, here. The piano soloist is Eric Parkin.

Bibliography:
Craggs, Stewart R., John Ireland, A Catalogue, Discography and Bibliography 2nd edition, Ashgate, 2007.
Richards, Fiona, Meanings in the Music of John Ireland, Thesis, University of Birmingham, 2000. Ed. Foreman, Lewis, The John Ireland Companion, Boydell Press, 2011

That Sweet City: Music by Kenneth Leighton and Ralph Vaughan Williams

The liner notes succinctly sum up the impact of this new disc: “Both [works] are evocations of the pastoral and bucolic, Leighton’s…celebrates young love in the spring…while Vaughan Williams’s is filled with nostalgia for an idyllic past…”  The two pieces are connected by their link to Queen’s College, Oxford, where they were premiered in the early 1950s.

Kenneth Leighton’s Veris Gratia, op.6 is a celebration of the coming of Spring. To be sure, he wrote two compositions with the same title. The present Cantata was completed in December 1950 and is a setting of classical and medieval verse whilst the second was a Suite for oboe, cello and strings written earlier that year.

The Cantata was inspired by the Latin poet, Catullus and poems chosen from Helen Wadell’s Medieval Latin Lyrics (1933). It was dedicated to his teacher, Bernard Rose, and the Eglesfield Musical Society. The premiere performance was given at Queen’s College, Oxford by the dedicatees on 8 June1951. The title Veris Gratia can be translated in many ways: the ‘Grace/Beauty of Spring’ or ‘For the sake of spring,’ or as Wadell translated it “O Spring most fair.”

The Cantata opens with a short instrumental Prelude, suggesting dawn and the break of day. The first chorus, Aubade is a panegyric of praise, to love, and to the arrival of summer. This is followed by a setting of Catullus’s Lament on the death of his mistress, Lesbia’s sparrow. The two thousand years after this poem was penned has not diminished the words’ pathos, as well as revealing an incipient eroticism. It is sympathetically sung by the tenor solo. A short instrumental Elegy leads to the Eclogue for choir. This is an adaptation of Leighton’s Coventry Carol. It is a meditation for chorus and solo soprano, considering the coming of the muse with a “sweet melody” and observing various birds in the countryside, which are parodied by the solo flute. An “earthy and energetic” Paean follows which is the most dramatic part of the cantata, with nods toward Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana whilst the Hymn to Cypris is a gentle, lilting Arcadian idyll for women’s voices. The next movement, Erotikon, is the saddest part of the cantata, where the tenor soloist laments unrequited love. Finzi’s vocal style is apparent here. An orchestral Nocturne is “brooding and impassioned.” Here some of Leighton’s future development may be glimpsed. The cantata has travelled the whole swing of the day, with the last chorus, an Epilogue, providing a long summation of the foregoing thoughts. It evokes “Diana’s crystal lamp [which] rises at dusk,” leading to the “Blessed…antidote of sleep.” Yet not before the peroration where the choir “applaud the novelty of things” and gives thanks that “Happy is he who is loved/And has achieved his welcome desire.” The music used here also appears in the glorious Veris Gratia Suite, op.9.

It is fair to say that it is the last of Leighton’s works to explicitly exhibit his debt to Vaughan Williams, Edmund Rubbra and Gerald Finzi.

It does not state on the CD cover that this is a premiere recording of Veris Gratia, op.6, however, I was unable to find any reference to an earlier edition. It is a major contribution to Leighton’s discography.

Ralph Vaughan Williams’s An Oxford Elegy is an appealing choral composition that brings together elements of narration, choir, and a small orchestra. This was written between 1947 and 1949, taking its text inspiration from two poems by Matthew Arnold: The Scholar Gipsy (1853) and Thyrsis (1865).

It reflects both nostalgia and acceptance, evoking the spirit of Arnold’s time and place. The first poem examines the life of a young scholar who leaves his studies at Oxford University to seek wisdom and truth beyond conventional education. The titular character, the Scholar-Gipsy, encounters a group of Romani who possess their own unique way of learning and understanding life. Amongst other things, Arnold examines the fast-paced, fragmented nature of modern life in the Victorian period. He portrays the Scholar-Gipsy’s rejection of the “sick hurry” and “divided aims” then (as now) widespread in society. There is a sense of weariness about the verses. Thyrsis is an encomium for the poet Arthur Hugh Clough. Both poems vividly celebrate the beauties of the landscape.

An Oxford Elegy was given a private performance at RVW’s home, White Gates, Dorking on 20 November 1949, with its public premier at Queen’s College, Oxford, on 19 June 1952. The narrator was Steuart Wilson, and, like the Leighton, the Eglesfield Musical Society was conducted by Bernard Rose.

Listeners will associate Rowan Atkinson with a variety of persona. One thinks of the recent sadly truncated Maigret series, or with one of the incarnations of Blackadder. Children of all ages will love Mr Bean. Johnny English, a parody on the spy genre, was deservedly popular. And then there was the satirical Not the Nine O’clock News which ran from 1979-1982. Atkinson’s alma mater was Queen’s College, Oxford, so the connection is clear. It was with great interest that I listened to his performance of An Oxford Elegy. His diction and timing are perfect. Atkinson’s style is tentative and intimate, rather than declamatory. He is suffused with wonderment with the Scholar’s story and the Oxfordshire landscape. It is beautiful, often bringing a tear to the eye. The singing by the Choir of the Queen’s College is not intrusive but acts as a perfect foil to the narration. Where necessary, they can be expansive, but typically they create an impressionist ‘take’ on “all the live murmur of a summer’s day.”

The liner notes by Owen Rees provide a major essay with detailed analysis of each piece’s progress. All texts and translations are included. There are the usual resumes of the performers.

The recording is splendid and well balanced, especially between the narrator and the choir in The Scholar Gypsy.

Listeners of a certain vintage will recall the John Westbrook narration of An Oxford Elegy, ably accompanied by the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, the Jacques Orchestra, under the watchful eye of David Willcocks. This was released in 1970 on HMV ASD 2487. Since that time there have been several recordings made of this work, with narrators including Jack May, Simon Callow, Gerard Killebrew, and Jeremy Irons. I guess that lovers of this composition will have their favourite.

For me, Westbrook’s was the first recording I heard of An Oxford Elegy, and it will always be my go-to version. That said, I can highly recommend this present recording, with its sense of tenderness and reflection. And the fact that it is coupled with Kenneth Leighton’s outstanding Veris Gratia makes it a must buy for enthusiasts of British Music.

Track Listing:
Kenneth Leighton (1929-88)
Veris Gratia, op.6 A Cantata based on Medieval Latin Lyrics (1950)
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)
An Oxford Elegy (1947-49)
Rowan Atkinson (narrator), Nick Pritchard (tenor), David Cuthbert (flute), Alaw Grug Evans (soprano)
Choir of the Queen’s College Oxford, Britten Sinfonia/Owen Rees
rec. 22-24 September 2023, SJE Arts, St John the Evangelist Church, Oxford
Texts included.
Signum Classics SIGCD917

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

Hidden Holst VI: A Fugal Overture (1922)

I first heard Gustav Holst’s A Fugal Overture, op.40/1 (H.151) on record in about 1976. It was part of Lyrita SRCS 37, performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Adrian Boult. Coming only a few weeks after hearing a performance of The Planets during the Summer Proms at Glasgow’s Kelvin Hall, it came as a big surprise. Here, there were no romantic passages like Venus or some mystical moments from Neptune. Nor did it offer any folk tunes or hints at pastoralism, found in A Somerset Rhapsody. It was full-on neo-classical.

In 1922 Holst began writing a neo-classical work, after the example of Paul Hindemith’s or Igor Stravinsky’s explorations into this genre. Yet, Stravinsky had yet not penned his Octet for Wind (1923), and Hindemith had not embarked on his series of Kammermusik, op.36 (1925). The composer’s daughter, Imogen Holst, suggests that he was not following fashion, but that “his inquiring mind had led him up this particular path at that particular moment.”

In August 1922, Holst wrote to his pupil W. Probert-Jones saying: “As soon as I got to work…I unexpectedly wrote a thing that was meant for an overture and even now is in strict sonata form: but it happens to be a Fugue! Also, it is a Dance! At present I’m calling it a Bally Fugue, although perhaps Fugal Ballet would be more correct.” (Cited Holst, 1974, p.147)

A Fugal Overture was completed the following year, on 4 January, (Short, 1990, p.207) and was dedicated to Holst’s pupil and confidante, Jane M. Joseph. It was duly published by Novello the following year.

Musically, the Fugal Overture which is not in the least ‘academic’ but is full of cross rhythms and syncopation, which makes for a lively and interesting work. Yet, as Michael Short (Short, 1990, p.203) has pointed out, “the mood [of] vitality and gaiety, [is] made all the more so by the inclusion of a brief poignant interlude of bleakness which gives a foretaste of Egdon Heath.”

The piece was originally conceived as an overture to the ballet The Perfect Fool, “if one should be needed.”  It was premiered in this form on 14 May 1923, at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. The first concert performance was given on 11 October 1923, at the Queen’s Hall, London, by the New Queen’s Hall Orchestra, conducted by Holst. The Times (12 October 1923, p.7) reviewer, was less than impressed, considering that “The Overture had less ideas in it than the [Fugal] Concerto, and such as it has, have been expressed by the composer before.” Earlier in the evening concertgoers had heard his Fugal Concerto for flute, oboe and strings, op.40, no.2 (1923).

For the contemporary listener, A Fugal Overture is a fascinating exploration into part of Holst’s catalogue that remains hidden, save to enthusiasts of his music. Gustav Holst is always in danger of being a “One Hit Wonder” with his The Planets. It is good to move beyond this undoubted masterpiece.

Bibliography:

• Dickinson, A.E.F., Holst’s Music: A Guide, (Thames Publishing, London 1995)
• Holst, Imogen, A Thematic Catalogue of Gustav Holst’s Music, (Faber Music Limited, London, 1974)
• Short, Michael, Gustav Holst: The Man and his Music, (Oxford, OUP, 1990)

Discography:

• Holst: A Fugal Overture, Moeran: Sinfonietta; Bax: November Woods, London Philharmonic Orchestra/Adrian Boult Lyrita. SRCS 37, 1968.
• Holst: A Fugal Overture, The Planets, St Paul's Suite, London Festival Orchestra/Ross People. ASV. DCA 782, 1992.
• Holst: A Fugal Overture, with A Somerset Rhapsody, Scherzo, Egdon Heath, Hammersmith, Prelude and Scherzo, Capriccio, London Symphony Orchestra/Richard Hickox, Chandos CHAN 9420, 1996.
• Holst: A Fugal Overture with Beni Mora, Somerset Rhapsody, Hammersmith, Egdon Heath, Invocation for Cello and Orchestra, Royal Scottish National Orchestra/David Lloyd-Jones Naxos. 8.553696, 1998. 

Listen to Hickox’s account of Gustav Holst’s A Fugal Overture on YouTube, here. It comes complete with score.

Music for Stage and Screen

This pot-pourri of “stage and screen” music is derived from RVW Society Vice President Stephen Connock MBE’s personal collection of recorded material. The one exception is Lorna’s Song, which has been provided by David Michell.

The first track is Ralph Vaughan Williams’s Prelude to 49th Parallel, a 1941 British war drama film directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. The plot involves German U-boat survivors evading capture in Canada and trying to escape to the neutral United States. The broad tune that dominates the Prelude epitomises the wide-open spaces of Canada as well as alluding to its people’s bravery. The entire score has been issued on Dutton Epoch, CDLX7405, reviewed here.

One of two major highlights on this CD is Adrian Boult’s 1954 recording Holst’s of Ballet Music from The Perfect Fool, with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. It was originally released on Decca LXT5015. This is a thrilling, “crisp, and sparkling” performance of this well-loved work. Boult would later make another recording in 1961.

One of the great film scores of the 1940s is William Walton’s Henry V written for Olivier’s iconic production of the play for the silver screen. I have always felt a strong sympathy for Sir John Falstaff. Certainly, I am offended by the way that Prince Hal latterly treated the elderly knight – at least in Shakespeare’s account. Walton has created a beautiful, if modest, miniature Passacaglia commemorating his death. Interestingly, Falstaff does not have a death-scene in Shakespeare’s’ play: it was interpolated into the film by Olivier. Along with its sad companion piece, Touch her Soft Lips and Part it is some of the finest, most poignant, music that William Walton created. It is heard here in the composer’s 1945 recording with the Philharmonia String Orchestra.

Two short numbers by William Alwyn are included. The first is the main theme from The Cure for Love (1949) which takes the form of an exquisite “salon waltz.” Equally attractive is the Malcolm Arnold-esque Calypso from The Rake’s Progress (1945). It perfectly complements Rex Harrison’s portrayal of Vivian Kenway, the roué, when he was working as a coffee grower in Latin America. Both are performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, under Muir Mathieson.

It is unfortunate that Clifton Parker is usually only recalled for his gripping score to the 1944 film, Western Approaches. Other important film scores include Robert Newton’s version of Treasure Island, Kenneth More in Sink the Bismarck! and the Walt Disney feature The Sword and the Rose. Equally interesting are the soundtracks to the British Transport Films, The Elizabethan, the Blue Pullman, Ocean Terminal, and The Long Night Haul. He did indulge in other genres, including the delightful Glass Slipper Overture (1944), the Thieves Carnival (1959) and his Two Choreographic Studies (1940). The present Seascape is a short, but effective, tone poem assembled by Parker from the score. It is in three sections, beginning tranquilly as the merchant ship leaves its berth in an American port. As the boat reaches the mid-Atlantic it begins to get stormy, and this is reflected in more expansive music. The last joyful section alludes to the rescue of the mariners and their safe arrival in ‘blighty.’ There are definite hints of Arnold Bax in this wonderful evocation of the sea.

Although the score for the 1934 movie Lorna Doone was composed by Cecil Armstrong Gibbs, for an unknown reason, the producer, Basil Dean, asked Rutland Boughton to create a romantic song for the eponymous heroine to sing. It is performed here by the film’s star Victoria Hopper. It is very much of its era: I can take it or leave it.

The day is saved by a riveting performance of the March from Things to Come by Arthur Bliss. This 1936 film was based on H.G. Wells’s novel, envisioning progress, technological leaps, and resilience in the face of a war-torn future. This is one of the most imposing, if menacing, “English” marches.

Although an enthusiast of Delius, I have never warmed to the incidental music written for James Elroy Flecker’s prose-play, Hassan (1920-23) – except for the Serenade and Interlude. The “plot” does not excite me. The current excerpts from the work include the Serenade ‘la-la’d’ by the tenor, H. Farrar and concluding with the almost comic final chorus. His Majesty’s Theatre Chorus & Orchestra were conducted by Percy Fletcher and recorded in 1923.

I agree with John Quinn (reviewed here) that the most significant recording on this disc is Manuel de Falla’s El Amor Brujo played by the Studio Orchestra (Rome Radio Orchestra) under Thomas Beecham. This was recorded in Rome during 1958 for use in the film Honeymoon (1959). This movie was essentially a travelogue for Spain. The stars included Anthony Steel, Ludmilla Tchérina and the Spanish ballet dancer Antonio as well as the renowned Russian choreographer and ballet dancer, Léonide Massine. Sadly, Beecham’s recording was not complete: five minutes of the Suite were omitted.

The present recording is derived from the film’s soundtrack, replete with “noises off.” But do not let that put you off this outstanding performance, especially from the mezzo soprano, María Carla Alcalá. The liner notes remind the listener that this ballet exudes “the primitive force, the magic character and the tragic essence of this art, whose roots are buried in a distant past.” It is a great characterisation of Beecham’s account. I echo John Quinn’s disappointment that Thomas Beecham never made a studio recording of El Amor Brujo.

The concert concludes with the Epilogue from the 49^th Parallel (1941). Stephen Connock is correct in stating that “nothing in [RVW’s] film music genre surpasses for breadth and nobility this rousing finale.” It is heartbreakingly beautiful.

The liner notes have been prepared by Stephen Connock. They give details about each piece, as well as essential information about context. The booklet’s cover features star of Lorna Doone, Victoria Hopper. All the tracks have been “improved” by Pete Reynolds of Reynolds Mastering. They give the best possible account of this worthy music.

Folks may wonder why Albion Records, which is an offshoot of the Ralph Vaughan Williams Society have only included two items by the man himself. It matters not. What is heard here is a valuable contribution to the recorded legacy of British music that deserves to be heard. RVW would surely have approved.

Track Listing:
Ralph VAUGHAN WILIAMS (1872-1958)
Prelude to 49th Parallel (1941)
London Symphony Orchestra/Muir Mathieson (rec. November 1949)
Gustav HOLST (1874– 1934)
Ballet Music from The Perfect Fool (1918-22)
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Adrian Boult (rec. November 1954)
William WALTON (1902-1983)
Excerpts from Henry V (1944), Death of Falstaff, Touch her Soft Lips and Part
Philharmonia String Orchestra/William Walton (rec. October 1945)
William ALWYN (1905-1985)
Main Theme from The Cure for Love (1949) (rec. November 1949)
Calypso Music from The Rake’s Progress (1945) (rec. June 1946)
London Symphony Orchestra/Muir Mathieson
Clifton PARKER (1905-1989)
Seascape from Western Approaches (1944)
London Symphony Orchestra/Muir Mathieson (rec. June 1946)
Rutland BOUGHTON (1878-1960)
Lorna’s Song from Lorna Doone (1934)
Victoria Hopper (soprano) with Orchestra (rec. November 1934)
Arthur BLISS (1891-1975)
March from Things to Come (1934-35)
London Symphony Orchestra/Arthur Bliss (transferred from film soundtrack, February 1936)
Frederick DELIUS (1862-1934)
Excerpts from Hassan (1920-23)
H Farrar (tenor); His Majesty’s Theatre Chorus and Orchestra/Percy Fletcher (rec. November 1923)
Manuel DE FALLA (1876-1946)
El Amor Brujo (1915-25) (abridged) from Honeymoon (1959)
Studio Orchestra (Rome Radio Orchestra)/Thomas Beecham (rec. 1958, Rome)
Ralph VAUGHAN WILIAMS
Epilogue from 49th Parallel (1940)
London Symphony Orchestra/Muir Mathieson (rec. June 1946)
rec. 1923-1958
ALBION RECORDS ALBCD041

Arnold Bax: Romantic Overture (1926) Part 2

The Romantic Overture was first performed at the New Chenil Galleries in the King’s Road, Chelsea, London on 18 January 1927. The then-young John Barbirolli (1899-1970) conducted the Chenil Chamber Orchestra and Rae Robertson played the ‘concertante’ piano part.

Fortunately, there is a sequence of letters that Bax sent to Harriet Cohen, describing his reaction both before and after the premiere of the work. I am grateful to Graham Parlett for permission to quote them here.

In a letter to Cohen (10 January 1927), Bax wrote: ‘My overture for small orchestra is being played (and broadcasted) by Barbirolli on Tuesday week at the Chenil Galleries—only one rehearsal—so it can’t be good especially as it is pretty complex.’

A few days later (14 January 1926), Bax was still troubled about the work’s prospects: ‘Barbirolli is doing my piece with only one full rehearsal - the usual bestial conditions of course - and what it will be like I can’t think. I certainly don’t want it broadcast at the first performance.’

But on 18 January, despite some sad news, he was much more optimistic: ‘I have just heard from mother that Señor Sobrino [his father-in-law, the Spanish pianist Carlos Sobrino] died to-day of cancer…Barbirolli rehearsed my piece the whole morning and let everything else in the programme go to the devil with the result that it really sounds what I mean. One is so unaccustomed to any trouble or real enthusiasm on the part of a conductor here that it is quite moving. I wish you could hear it. (Rae [Robertson] is playing the piano part.)’

On 19 January, Bax wrote enthusiastically about the concert: ‘My Romantic Overture went brilliantly last night, and Barbirolli really accomplished something quite wonderful with it. Old Vaughan Williams was there of course but I did not see him to speak to. I wish you could have heard it - especially as (since it is scored for a medium sized orchestra) there cannot be many opportunities for its performance.'

Finally, Graham Parlett (1999) cites a letter from Bax to fellow composer Cecil Armstrong Gibbs (21 January 1927) stating that ‘The performance was fine, and I think that if he remains as enthusiastic and conscientious as he is at present Barbirolli is going to be a very important figure in the conducting world’. It was a perception that was justified by time. On the same day, Bax also wrote to Cohen: ‘Everyone seems to have liked my orchestral piece the other night I am glad to say - That comes of a really good performance.’

The reviewer in the Musical Times (March 1927) of the premiere, regarded the Romantic Overture as ‘small and excellent’ just like the venue. He thought that ‘one title is as good as another, and Mr. Bax had never yet used this one.’ What impressed him most was the composer’s successful attempt as ‘dabbling with orchestral economy on the part of a usually spendthrift composer was a hopeful sign, for retrenchment is often a first symptom of maturity.’  He amusingly wrote that ‘we want Mr. Bax to mature and to sow oats a little less wildly.’  The work was deemed to be typical Bax, despite not alluding to any actual Irish tune. He understood that there was ‘live motion in melody, middle, bass, harmony and rhythm.’  The ‘gifted’ pianist Rae Robertson gave an effective performance of the piano part.

Other works heard at the concert included a very ‘slow-paced’ Delius On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring, Mozart’s Symphony No.40 in G minor K550 and a Concerto Grosso by Handel.

The first provincial performance of the Romantic Overture was given during the 1927 ‘Hastings Music Festival’ at the White Rock Pavilion. On Thursday afternoon, April 7, Edward Elgar had been booked to conduct some of his orchestral works including ‘The Wand of Youth Suite No.2’ and the Violin Concerto with the solo part played by Miss Margaret Fairless in lieu of Albert Sammons who was ‘indisposed’. A premiere at the concert was Alexander Brent-Smith’s Barton Fair Overture which has disappeared into the mists of time.

Allan Biggs commenting on the Romantic Overture in the Hasting and St Leonards Observer (Saturday 9 April 1927) observed that Basil Cameron, the resident conductor, ‘extracted every ounce of musical significance that it possesses.’  He continued: ‘every player engaged in its performance has to be very much on the alert for it abounds in snatches of small talk between the instruments employed.’ The work, characterised by ‘…successions of unresolved discords suggests a somewhat distorted view of ‘romance’ and the broad impression is one of feverish energy rather than beauty per se.’ Biggs thought that there was an ‘abundant purpose in the themes, and no lack of originality in them or in the striking orchestral effects to which they gave rise.’ Basil Cameron gave a ‘masterly’ performance and had memorised the work.

The Musical Times (1 May 1927) reviewing the same concert pointed out that there is ‘much good music in Bax’s work- too much, in fact for it to hang together properly.’

The Recording

In January 1992 Chandos were running an advert for the latest CD in their series of Arnold Bax recordings. It was presented as a ‘unique release, featuring premier recordings.’ Included on this disc were the Violin Concerto, the incidental music to Clifford Bax’s play Golden Eagle, the tone-poem ‘Legend’ and the present overture. Unfortunately, M.K. (Michael Kennedy) did not choose to mention the work in his review of the CD in the April 1992 issue of The Gramophone magazine. This journal also appears to have been silent about the CD’s subsequent re-release in 2003.

Guy Rickards, reviewing the CD in Tempo (March 1992) states that the Romantic Overture is ‘…not-quite-concertante, not-quite-orchestral piano, [and] is a dud’. Rickards regards this failure as ironic as the work dates from ‘the middle of the composer's richest period.’  He believes that the work’s ‘longueurs [dull and tedious parts] fall just short of the early Festival Overture (1909-11) …’

The most extensive critique of this recording of the Romantic Overture is by Steve Arloff on the website MusicWeb International (4 April 2004). After a summary of the work’s genesis and a consideration of the Franck ‘quotation,’ he concludes by stating, ‘Whilst I’ve never been a particular fan of Delius, whose music seems to meander aimlessly rather than making a statement, this Bax piece is a delight and once again is teeming with ideas that are fully explored though it is a scant thirteen minutes in length’.

Finally, The American Record Guide (March 2004, Roger Hecht) comments that the Romantic Overture ‘is a pleasing combination of dance and an afternoon wandering around dedicatee Frederick Delius's house in France’. It may not reflect the true facts of the work’s origin, but it does sum up the effectiveness of the music.

Brief Bibliography
Foreman, Lewis, Bax: A Composer and his Times (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 1983, 1987, 2007)
Parlett, Graham, A Catalogue of the Works of Sir Arnold Bax (Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1999)
Scott-Sutherland, Colin, Arnold Bax (London, J.M. Dent & Sons Ltd, 1973)

Discography:
Bryden Thomson/London Philharmonic Orchestra Romantic Overture, Concerto for violin and orchestra, A Legend: Symphonic Poem, Golden Eagle: Incidental Music, Chandos CD: CHAN 9003, 1991; rereleased on CHAN 10159, 2003.

With grateful thanks to the late Graham Parlett for permission to quote liberally from his research and for much help and encouragement in drafting this essay.

Concluded
With thanks to the Delius Society Journal where this essay was first published.

Arnold Bax: Romantic Overture (1926) Part 1

In the July 1966 edition of Musical Opinion, Lewis Foreman examined the ‘Unperformed works of Sir Arnold Bax.’ Amongst many pieces discussed, was the Romantic Overture. Foreman noted that this was one of several smaller orchestral works “dating from the period between the wars [which] have been almost totally neglected.” Others in this category included Summer Music, the Rogue’s Comedy Overture and Cortège. At present, even with an expanded appreciation of Bax’s music that has developed over the past 55 years, these works are hardly well known: they are rarely performed and feature on only one or two recordings.

Genesis & Composition
Anecdotally, music historians (in rare discussions of the work) have understood that the genesis of the Romantic Overture was the result of a short visit that Bax made during April 1926 to Frederick Delius in Grez-sur-Loing. The exact date of this visit in unclear. Incidentally, en route to Grez, Arnold Bax had met his lover, the pianist Harriet Cohen, in Paris: she was returning from treatment for TB in Geneva. (Foreman, 1983/2007)

Later, in an undated letter to Cohen (Foreman, op.cit.) written from Delius’ home, Bax wrote: “This is an old house – sixteenth century - and last night in the dimness of candles and somewhat feeble lamp light seemed rather eerie...” Bax had been left alone in the “shadowy music room.” Earlier, he had admired “the neglected and overgrown garden” where “spring is marvellous...” and had enjoyed ‘the river [which] flows at the bottom of it and bluebells, pansies, wallflower and apple-blossom riot in the pouring sunlight.” It has been assumed that this inspired the Romantic Overture.

Following detailed research by Graham Parlett, the “received” origin of the work has been modified considerably. The first indication that Bax was working on the Overture is presented in a letter to Harriet Cohen (15 March 1926). He wrote: “I can’t get on with my choral thing [Walsinghame] at all - so I am revising I think successfully a work which I thought was no good and may score it for Barbirolli’s small orchestra.”

The score must have been completed, at least in draft, sometime before this date. This indicates that the work had been sketched out before Bax’s trip to Grez.

Furthermore, it has been presumed that the scoring of the Romantic Overture was completed whilst Bax was staying with Philip Heseltine (Peter Warlock) and E.J. (Jack) Moeran in the Kent village of Eynsford. Warlock had moved to a small cottage in the High Street, next to the Methodist Chapel and, more appositely, a few yards away from the Five Bells public house.

Several days after returning from Grez to his home in Fellows Road, near Swiss Cottage, Bax wrote to Cohen: “I have just finished orchestrating a thing for very small orchestra. It is a piece that I very nearly tore up at one time, but just at the moment I am rather pleased with it. I expect Barbirolli will do it.” (Wednesday, 28 April 1926).

On the previous Monday (26 April 1926), Bax had written to Warlock asking if he could visit the cottage “next Saturday to Monday.” Parlett presumes that this implied as 1-3 May. The full score was complete, therefore, before Bax’s trip to Eynsford.

Interestingly, another letter to Harriet Cohen written from Fellows Road and postmarked 3 May 1926, suggested that his visit to Eynsford was shortened: “I came back with [Lionel] Jellinek last night [2nd], partly in order to see about your francs, and also because the perpetual boozing of Heseltine [Warlock] and [Cecil] Gray was a gloomy and irritating spectacle.”

The work’s ‘official’ title is Romantic Overture for Chamber Orchestra: in the short score it is referred to as being ‘for Small Orchestra.’  The orchestral forces are two flutes (one doubling on piccolo), oboe, two each of clarinets, bassoons, and horns with trumpet, piano and strings. There is no percussion. The full score was published by Murdoch, Murdoch & Co. in 1928. On the printed score, it was dedicated to ‘To Frederick Delius’ presumably in memory of Bax’s April visit to Grez-sur-Loing.

‘Programme Note’

Three things should be grasped about the Romantic Overture. Firstly, the rare use (in 1926) of a piano in a work of this kind. This part is complex and requires a considerable technique. It is effectively an ‘obligato’ that is integral to the work: it is not a piano accompaniment that can be omitted from a performance. Clearly, Bax’s use of the piano, presages his imposing Winter Legends dating from 1930. Secondly, much study could be given to examining whether this Overture is a parody or a pastiche of Fred. Delius. It is common knowledge that Bax’s influences included Richard Wagner, Richard Strauss and Jean Sibelius as well as the Russian nationalists, Irish folk-music, and Impressionism. Personally, I find intimations of Delius’ music at many points in this score. I imagine that these are the ‘impressionistic’ influences, where Bax creates a moody, misty sound often with muted horns or sometimes with woodwind. I do not believe that this work is an attempt at sounding like Delius: it is just that there are moments that could have come from the pen of the elder composer. And thirdly, the utilisation of the small or chamber orchestra makes the texture seem brighter than that often associated with Bax’s music.

Most commentators include reference to a musical quotation from César Franck that Bax used in this work. This Belgian composer was not a favourite of Bax’s, but there is a two-bar’ allusion to the Franck’s Symphony at ‘Letter H’ in the score. It is assumed that Bax was “put up to it” by Peter Warlock, who had recently composed The Old Codger which had parodied Franck’s Symphony in D minor. It was the fourth of his Cod-Pieces.

Brief Bibliography
Foreman, Lewis, Bax: A Composer and his Times (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, 1983, 1987, 2007)
Parlett, Graham, A Catalogue of the Works of Sir Arnold Bax (Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1999)
Scott-Sutherland, Colin, Arnold Bax (London, J.M. Dent & Sons Ltd, 1973)

 
To be continued… With thanks to the Delius Society Journal where this essay was first published.

Romance and Reverie: Holst and his Contemporaries

The publicity for this CD states that the repertoire “is based on chamber works written or arranged for violin with either voice or another instrument, by Holst himself and four composers who were contemporary with him – with a focus on neglected works but including a new arrangement of one very popular piece.”

Appropriately for the sesquicentennial anniversary of Gustav Holst’s birth, three of his works are given here. All are in slightly different versions from what many listeners will be used to. Invocation was originally conceived for cello and small orchestra in 1911. He later arranged it for cello and piano. The present edition for violin and piano was devised by Hannah Roper. Even though Holst was employed on his Rig Veda settings at that time, the overall impression is one of Englishness – and possibly ascending larks! Invocation was originally titled A Song of Evening, which suggests that it may have been deemed a companion piece to A Song of the Night (1905), also heard in this recital. Originally this latter work was conceived for violin and small orchestra but is heard here rescored for violin and piano. I do not know if this version is in Holst’s hand. It does not offer an evocation of England, but something more mystical and nodding to India.

The final track is an arrangement of Holst’s Lyric Movement for viola and small orchestra (1933). This was one of his final compositions and was dedicated to the violist Lionel Tertis. Once again, it has been arranged by Hannah Roper for violin and piano. This nocturnal piece presents shifting harmonies, clear textures, and soaring melodies. It is not austere, but neither is it a pastoral rumination. Imogen Holst considered it to be one of her father’s finest works.

William Yeates Hurlstone displayed remarkable musical talent from an early age. Despite his premature death, he left behind a small but excellent body of work. His catalogue includes the Variations on a Swedish Air, a Piano Concerto, the Magic Mirror Suite, an important Piano Sonata in F minor, and the Cello Sonata in D.

The liner notes suggest that the Four English Sketches are “miniatures which paint almost idyllic musical portraits of English country life, like scenes on a Royal Worcester porcelain dinner service.” Certainly, there is an inherent innocence here. The Pastoral is more Edward German than RVW, whilst the Caprice has a beautiful ‘big tune’ in the middle eight. Romance is melancholy but ending enigmatically: A story rather than a love affair? The finale, A Revelry is the most technically demanding of the Sketches. Bouncy and playful, Hurlstone has introduced a bit of a fugal passage in the Trio section.

Two other pieces by Hurlstone are included – his Revery and Romance. I like the programme notes suggestion that they have a “charming sepia-toned quality.” They are much deeper and profound in impact than the Sketches. It is not explained in the notes that these two numbers would appear to be part of Three Pieces for violin and pianoforte. They are all undated, but the manuscript carries a date of 12 August 1894, for one of them. There is also an Intermezzo, which is not included in this recital.

Rebecca Clarke’s quixotic Midsummer Moon echoes Claude Debussy and Ralph Vaughan Williams. Written in 1924, it is just a little bit eclectic in its stylistic integrity. However, she has managed to express an entire range of emotions, from playfulness to the dream-like magic of a warm summer’s night.

Clarke’s Three Irish Country Songs (1926) are scored for soprano and violin, based on folk tunes. The first, I know my love utilizes a delicate counterpoint between the soloists. I know where I’m going is a gentle rumination on love sullied by her sweetheart Johnny’s bad reputation. The final number, As I Was Goin’ to Ballynure, is a good old Irish romp. A wonderful violin obligato here.

Ethel Barns was an English violinist, pianist, and composer. Her Valse Caprice (1894) is virtuosic, with nods towards the Polish violinist and composer Henryk Wieniawski. It is an involved number, which sounds very English despite the French title. Barns’s Lament (also called Chanson Indienne) is an involved mood picture, drawing on Indian scales with nods to modalism. It is undated.

I first heard The Lark Ascending in the Bean/Boult version dating from 1972 (HMV ASD2847). It has been my go-to recording whether on vinyl, cassette, or CD since then. Despite listening to Valeria Clarke’s arrangement on two occasions in the preparation of this review, I am not convinced. The liner notes explain that “With the carefully considered addition of extended techniques for harp, the music takes on a feel which can only be described as even more English, with the folk inspiration for the melodies and harmonies on clearer display through the recognisably ancient timbre of the harp.” To be sure it is a faithful account of this ever-popular work and deserves to be successful. It is just not for me.

The liner notes by Chris Cope, Hannah Roper and John Francis are helpful, and include backgrounds of the composers and brief notes on the repertoire. Not all dates are given: I have provided these where possible. The booklet is illustrated with publicity shots of the recitalists and photos of the composers. Brief biographies of the performers are given. The picture on the CD cover was previously used on ALBCD038 – Time and Space.

I cannot fault the performances on this CD. The heavy lifting is done by Hannah Roper (violin) and Martin Jacoby (piano), ably assisted by the soprano Emma Tring and the harpist Valeria Clarke. The playing is always sympathetic and well balanced. The songs by Rebecca Clarke are sung with clarity and imagination without an overly exaggerated Irish accent.

It is useful to have these relatively unknown works made available, especially the Rebecca Clarke, Ethel Barns, and the William Hurlstone. The three arrangements of Holst’s early concerted pieces are a valuable contribution to his birthday honours. Listeners will make up their own mind about this latest incarnation of The Lark Ascending.

Track Listing:
Gustav Holst (1874-1934)
Invocation for violin and piano (1911), arr. Hannah Roper
William Hurlstone (1876-1906)
Four English Sketches for violin and piano (pub. posth.1910)
Rebecca Clarke (1886-1979)
Midsummer Moon for violin and piano (1924)
Ethel Barns (1873-1948)
Valse Caprice for violin and piano (1894)
Hannah Roper (violin), Martin Jacoby (piano)
Rebecca Clarke
Three Irish Country Songs for soprano and violin (1926)
Emma Tring (soprano), Hannah Roper (violin)
Gustav Holst
A Song of the Night for violin and piano (1905)
Hannah Roper (violin), Martin Jacoby (piano)
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)
The Lark Ascending for violin and harp (1914), arr. Valeria Clarke (b.1992)
Hannah Roper (violin), Valeria Clarke (harp)
William Hurlstone
Revery and Romance for violin and piano (c.1894)
Ethel Barns
Lament (?)
Gustav Holst
Lyric Movement for violin and piano, (1933) arr. Hannah Roper
Hannah Roper (violin), Martin Jacoby (piano)
rec. 28-29 May 2024, Ruddock Performing Arts Centre, Edgbaston, Birmingham.
Albion ALBCD065