The basic ‘thesis’ of this book is a refutation of the impression that British composers in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century lacked literary credentials. I must admit that it is not something that I had ever considered a problem. For example, even the briefest of studies of the dozen or so volumes of Hubert Parry’s English Lyrics reveal a wide-ranging literary taste that is invariably expressed in an appropriate musical setting. To be fair, Delius joked about Parry’s propensity for setting biblical text, however Blake, Milton, Shelley and Tennyson are all grist to his mill. Exactly the same observation can be made about Charles Villiers Stanford. So, I approached this book with a little scepticism. Was Michael Allis about to tell me something that I already knew – that these composers were well-read, had wide connections with the great and good in the literary world and had a considerable appreciation of English literature – old and new? Fortunately, there is much more to the argument than that.
In
recent years, there has been a small but important increase in the number of
books, theses and reviews of nineteenth-century British Music. A review is not a bibliography: however, I
cannot resist mentioning a few highlights. Pride of place must go to Professor
Jeremy Dibble’s important studies of the life and music of Stanford, Parry and
John Stainer. Other Parry volumes include Bernard Benoliel’s Parry Before Jerusalem and Anthony
Boden’s The Parry’s of Golden Vale.
At about the same time as Dibble’s book on Stanford appeared, Paul Rodmell
issued an important study of that composer. Elgar has never been short of
enthusiastic supporters and books ranging from comprehensive biographies such
as that by Jerrold Northrop Moore to monographs like J. P. E. Harper-Scott’s Edward Elgar: Modernist. Additionally, several
important volumes of collected essays have been produced by Ashgate Publishing.
The
only exception to this explosion of interest appears to be Granville Bantock.
To my knowledge, there is only Myrrha Bantock’s ‘Personal Portrait’ and the 1915
study by H. Orsmond Anderton. There is also a thesis by Matthew
Louis Kickalsola entitled Granville
Bantock and the Choral Imagination.
However, I have heard rumours that a major study of Bantock’s music is
currently in preparation.
I do wonder exactly who this monograph British Music
and Literary Context is aimed at. On the one hand, it is hardly likely to be read
by the ‘average’ music lover –and that is not being superior: it is a
fact. This is a book written by an
academic for academics. On the other hand, that is not to suggest that this
book is impenetrable or beyond the grasp of the musically savvy reader. However, I do think that as this is a
multi-disciplinary approach to the subject, an understanding of music and
literary theory is required. I certainly found that some of the ‘lit-crit’
parts of the book were ‘beyond my ken’ and needed re-reading and having Google close at hand.
The
most important thing to remember about approaching this text is to ‘read the
introduction’. It defines the approach that the reader should take as well as
giving an ‘abstract’ of each of the chapters. Michael Allis suggests that this
book can be read in any order. However,
he insists that the principle argument is twofold. Firstly it explores ‘a new
assurance with which a generation of British composers refigured poetry and
literature in their works.’ This can be explored by examining ‘straight forward
musical settings’ or ‘representations’. The
former being where the composer sets a text for singers and the latter where he
uses a text as inspiration for an
instrumental composition. The second
‘aim’ of this book is ‘to offer suggestions (strategies) as to how modern
audiences might interpret or appreciate the music-literature connection
presented in these chapters’.
The
author suggests that a useful approach is to ‘take a literary perspective as a
‘way in’ to appreciating selected late nineteenth-century British composers and
their music’. Allis has decided to look at different facets of this
relationship.
Firstly,
he has considered the collaboration between poet and composer - in this case
the poet laureate Robert Bridges and Hubert Parry. Bridges (1844-1930) is a
poet who is largely forgotten today, however according to the Oxford
Encyclopaedia of British Literature he ‘represents
an independent and profound engagement with both the literary tradition and the
ideas and innovations of his age.’ He is now best-remembered as being a friend
of Gerard Manley Hopkins. In 1895
Bridges and Parry collaborated in writing the cantata Invocation to Music and some three years later in A Song of Darkness and Light. Michael Allis explores this relationship
between author and composer in considerable detail and emphasises the poet’s
frustration with Parry’s approach to the setting of the texts.
The
following chapter examines the ‘sustained musical promotion’ of a literary
figure by Charles Villiers Stanford, in this case Alfred, Lord Tennyson. I was certainly astonished at the number of
works that were based on this poet’s works and imagery, which occurred
throughout the composer’s lifetime. These include incidental music, motets,
solo songs, part-songs and a symphony (No.2 ‘The Elegiac’). Four facets of these works are explored: the
‘heroic, the covert Irish connections, the deeper thought of In Memoriam and finally some of
Tennyson’s late poetry.
Perhaps
more challengingly, Allis has studied Granville Bantock’s attempt at
‘refiguring in music’ a collection of poetic texts by Robert Browning. This is
especially the case with the great symphonic work Fifine at the Fair which the author carefully maps between text and
music. He concludes this chapter by
suggesting that Fifine can be
‘interpreted as a closer reading of the poem...particularly in the context of his
[Bantock’s] interest in the musical potential of the dramatic monologue.’ This
is a long, complex chapter of musical and literary analysis that I will need to
study again in conjunction with the CD recording by either Beecham or Handley.
Finally,
Edward Elgar has two perspectives devoted to him. Firstly there is ‘a hidden’
narrative where musical plot and imagery parallel a literary source and
secondly the great Overture: In the South
is examined from a ‘travelogue’ perspective.
I
have always imagined Elgar’s Piano Quintet as a piece of music largely
influenced by the peaceful surroundings of Brinkwells in Sussex in the summer
of 1918. Other works composed at this time included the Violin Sonata and the
String Quartet. They were the only three major chamber works written by the
composer. However, Lady Elgar’s hints
that there was a programmatic element to the Quintet – it apparently ‘represented’
a group of trees near Brinkwells. According to a local legend these trees were
the ‘remains’ of Spanish monks accused of ‘sacrilegious ceremonies’ struck by
lightening. However, Allis notes that another diary entry suggests that
‘[Edward Bulwer] Lytton’s ‘Strange Story’ seems to sound through it too.’ The
author presents a ‘close reading’ of the novel and the music and highlights the
parallels such as the musical device of a recurring chant-like motive and the
‘juxtapositon of the musical ‘other’ and the salon [to mirror] the two strange
worlds of A Strange Story.’ It is a
process which is fascinating, even if it does not quite make me hear Elgar’s
Quintet in an entirely new light.
I
want to look at this last chapter in a little more detail and briefly explore
how the author has approached this great work by Elgar. The first section examines the ‘composition’
history –at least as far as the historical facts go. In November 1903, Elgar
journeyed to Italy with his wife and was later joined by his daughter Carice
and friend Rosa Burley. Elgar’s intention was to use this ‘warmer climate’ to
work on his symphonic project for the forthcoming Elgar Festival at Covent Garden,
which was to be held in March 1904. Allis notes that this project
‘foundered’. The Overture: In the South was largely sketched out in Alassio and was
duly completed in England. The author
then considers the Overture’s reception. Two main arguments seem to dominate
the musical criticism of this piece. Firstly, there is a debate as to whether
the work was an overture or a tone poem. This was argued from a structural
point of view. Secondly, there was the relationship between this Overture and
the music of Richard Strauss – especially Don
Juan or Don Quixote.
Michael
Allis then considers the work’s structure – using both a ‘Tovey-ian’ analysis
as well as Elgar’s own numbering of the themes. Extensive quotation is made of
the composer’s literary commentary on the work. Musical examples illustrating this
commentary are liberally printed.
A
fascinating study of ‘Imaginative Topography’ ensues where the author gives a concise
review of Victorian and Edwardian travel literature – particularly pertaining
to Italy. Important to this study are the strategies ‘used to communicate the
nature of foreign landscape to the reader.’
This is identified as ‘imaginative topography’ by Chloe Chard. These literary
parallels are then used to analyse the ‘musical context’ of Elgar’s Overture
and ‘help us appreciate the composer’s striking approach to narrative from a
number of perspectives.’
These
strategies include ‘Motivation’ and ‘Title’. This looked at what the author was
trying to ‘capture’ in his text. Was it, for example, ‘youthful enthusiasm of
the Classical world?’ Titles of travelogues were also important – Allis lists a
number of titles such as ‘Sketches,
Notes, Dairies, Gleanings, Impressions, Pictures, Narratives, Leaves from a
Journal, Tours, Visits, Wanderings, Residences, Rambles and Travels. I was
amazed at just how many of these descriptive’ words used in travel literature
title have also found their way into the works of composers –especially piano
music from the first half of the 20th centiry.
Further
refinements of the travelogue are considered including the need for authors to
assert their individuality, especially when following in the footsteps of
another writer, a desire to push away from the beaten track, the balance
between presenting an ‘otherness’ or attempting to show that the places
described are ‘different’ to the readers usual points of reference. On the
other hand, a writer may use his own country as a point of reference in
describing his experience of travel. Travel writers will balance a sense of the
past and present – possibly presented as a dream sequence. Finally, there are references to scenic structure.
The travelogue can be presented a series of scenes.
Michael
Allis concludes this study of ‘strategies’ by suggesting that a literary perspective
helps to identify a number of elements which mirror strategies in travel
literature and which a purely musical approach might overlook. He suggests that ‘In the South represents Elgar’s most focused and extended account
of the travel experience. Never again did he [Elgar] incorporate the foreign
landscape quite so vividly within a musical setting.’
I
was disappointed that no brief note about the author was included: I had to
access the Leeds University webpage to find out about him. Dr. Michael Allis is
a Senior Lecturer in Historical Musicology. He has contributed to the field of
music and literature including a significant monograph about ‘Parry’s Creative
Process’. In 2004, he wrote an essay for
Music & Letters entitled 'Elgar,
Lytton, and the Piano Quintet, op.84' –this argument has been incorporated into
the present book.
Throughout
this volume, there are many musical illustrations, tables and figures. For
example, there are some eighteen quotations from Elgar’s Piano Quintet and many
more from compositions by Stanford and Bantock.
Some of the tables provided are most helpful –for example the list of works
by Stanford with ‘Tennysonian associations’: I was amazed to find twenty works
listed- from the great ‘Elegiac’ Symphony down to a setting of ‘Jack Tar’ for
voice and piano. The same can be said of
Granville Bantock – there are literally dozens of pieces of varying genres that
were inspired by Browning. A number of
structural overviews will assist the reader in approaching Fifine at the Fair, Elgar’s Quintet and his Overture: In the South.
The
book is printed on quality paper, although on my copy a little bit of ‘warping’
seemed to have taken place. My age and my eyes protest a little at the size of
the print - just a wee bit too small for me. Furthermore, many quotations in
the text are in an even smaller font. The same applies to the footnotes and
their references.
Whilst
on the subject of footnotes, it is fair to say that the book is a little
overburdened with them. For example in the 50 pages devoted to Parry and Bridges,
there are 128 examples!
This
is not the place to enter into the argument for endnotes, footnotes (or both),
however in the present volume, the sheer ‘weight’ of footnotes tends to make
the pages look cluttered. I believe that
the expansions of the text along with the citations should have been placed as
endnotes with only clarifications in the footnotes. However, contrariwise,
bearing in mind the huge number of notes, I am glad that I do not have to flick
constantly to the back of the book (or chapter) to keep abreast of the
argument, which requires 100% attention to read and digest. Therefore, it is an
open question...
There
is a massive ‘select’ bibliography: nearly seventeen close written pages of
books the author has consulted. Additionally many references to ‘primary
sources, unsigned articles and additional literary and musical criticism in the
periodical literature’ are referred to in the text/footnotes. The indices are extensive with special
emphasis on the many musical works discussed or alluded to.
This
is an expensive book. £60.00 is a lot of money even by today’s standards. However, as the cliché goes ‘research is not
cheap.’ This is a book for the specialist:
furthermore, the areas of specialisms are wide. Any reader will have to be
familiar with both musicology and literary criticism. As noted above, this is
not to say the text is opaque, or a closed book for those of us who are not academic.
However, there is a density of meaning in these pages that does not allow for skimming.
It is a book that needs to be ‘closely read’ and (re-read). An understanding of
the arguments and an appreciation of the conclusions are hard won but
ultimately both challenging and rewarding.
British Music and Literary Context: Artistic Connections in the Long Nineteenth Century
Music in Britain, 1600-1900 Series
by Michael Allis, The Boydell Press, Woodbridge
ISBN: 9781843837305
£60.00 Hardcover
A
few days ago I posted about a concert programme I had found in a second hand
bookshop. I gave an overview of the first half of that performance. Arthur Hammond conducted the London Symphony
Orchestra and the soprano soloist was Mary Cherry. The raison-d’être of the
concert was the promotion of the music of Josef Holbrooke (1878-1958)
