Friday 26 September 2014

Malcolm Arnold Third Symphony & Scottish Dances on Everest

I first came across Malcolm Arnold at grammar school. Mr Mclean, the music teacher, let us hear a recording of the fantastic ‘Tam O’Shanter’ Overture.  Shortly afterwards, I discovered the delicious English Dances on a Decca Eclipse LP, Festival of English Music Volume 1. Not many years later, I heard this version of the Scottish Dances played by the LPO with composer conducting. As a Scot myself, though long exiled ‘furth of the border,’ these dances have always been important to me. They may be pastiche: they might be patronising to Scotsmen, yet they are near perfect in their almost cinematographic picturing of the country and its people. It matches both the stereotypical image of the nation as well as something much more subtle and genuine. If pressed, I would say that that third dance, the ‘allegretto’ is one of the most flawless evocations of the misty Western isles written by anyone- of any nationality.  It moves me to tears, with remembrance of things and people past. Would that I could have seen these isles with Miss ***. It is lovely to have these Dances in my music collection once again.
Malcolm Arnold’s Third Symphony is not one that I have listened to very often. If pressed, I am a huge fan of the Fifth and of the First.  The 3rd was commissioned by the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Society and was first performed at the Royal Festival Hall on 2 December 1957. John Pritchard conducted. This work has been defined as rather ‘gloomy’ with the slow movement being an elegiac ‘funeral march.’  There is a little light relief at the start of the final ‘allegro con brio’ however this is short lived.  I was most impressed by the first movement, which Paul Serotsky has suggested is in ‘Arnold’s new linear style’: it is a kind of twisted sonata form.  Yet, in spite of the fact that there appears to be no typically ‘memorable tune’ throughout the symphony there are many fingerprints of Malcolm Arnold as ‘film composer’ and writer of music that frustrated the cognoscenti if the fifties and sixties.  It has been a pleasure during this review to have listened to this Symphony after many years in abeyance.
Bearing in mind that CD is a recording was made some 56 years ago, there is nothing left to be desired. Arnold handles the orchestra with consummate skill as he negotiates the pages of this reflective symphonic score. The technical quality of the sound is beyond reproach. The liner notes by Paul Affelder, although somewhat gnomic, are of great interest and provide all the information that the listener requires to enjoy these two excellent works. The original artwork has been provided from the 1958 LP. The relatively short duration of the CD is more than compensated for by the ‘budget’ price.
There are currently some five accounts of Arnold’s Third Symphony in the catalogues including versions by Hickox, Penny and Handley. There are many recordings of the Scottish Dances in both orchestral and band arrangements. Without wishing to disparage any of these recordings, I can wholeheartedly recommend this present Everest re-release, in spite of it being more than half a century old.  I have listened to the Symphony twice as part of this review, and am coming to understand that it is one of the composer’s masterpieces, even if it is in some ways uncharacteristic of what we imagine his ‘style’ to be. I just love it. The Scottish Dances will always have a place in my heart –no matter the version - but these on this disc are perfect.

Track Listing:-
Four Scottish Dances, Op.59 (1957)
Symphony No.3, Op.63 (1957) 
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Malcolm Arnold
Rec. Walthamstow Assembly Hall, London, November 1958
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published 

Tuesday 23 September 2014

Frederic Curzon: Listings of Music recorded on the Guild Light Music Series.

Most of the recordings of music by Frederic Curzon (1899-1973) listed in the Arkiv CD Catalogue are released on the Guild Light Music Series. The major exception to this is the fine retrospective of the composer’s music issued on 1991 on Marco Polo 8.223425.
There are one or two other pieces scattered on the EMI and the Hyperion labels. The most popular work is Boulevardier with four recordings, which in many ways is the composer’s signature tune. Nearly as popular is the endearing Dance of the Ostracised Imp. His most significant surviving works are the Robin Hood Suite and the sun-drenched Suite: In Malaga.

Bonaventure - New Concert Orchestra / Frederic Curzon (GLCD 5171)
Boulevardier - New Concert Orchestra / Frederic Curzon (GLCD 5177)
Bravada - Harry Fryer & His Orchestra (GLCD 5128)
Dance of an Ostracised Imp - New Concert Orchestra / Frederic Curzon (GLCD 5195)
Suite: In Malaga: ‘Cachucha’ - New Concert Orchestra / Nat Nyll [Actually Dolf Van Der Linden] (GLCD 5132)
Mischief - New Century Orchestra / Sidney Torch (GLCD 5175)
Over The Hills and Far Away - New Concert Orchestra / Nat Nyll (GLCD 5194)
Prelude to a Play - New Concert Orchestra / Cedric Dumont (GLCD 5212)
Punchinello - Royal Air Force Central Band / Squadron Leader A.E. Sims (GLCD 5203)
Rendezvous with Frederic Curzon: ‘Cachucha’ from In Malaga Suite; ‘Maid Marian’ From In Sherwood Suite; Bravada; Serenade of a Clown; ‘March of the Bowmen’ from In Sherwood Suite - New Concert Orchestra / Frederic Curzon (GLCD 5178)
Robin Hood Suite: ‘March of the Bowmen’ - London Palladium Orchestra /Clifford Greenwood (GLCD 5106)
Savoir Faire - New Concert Orchestra / Nat Nyll (GLCD 5119)

Saturday 20 September 2014

Philip Sawyers: Symphony No.2 on Nimbus Alliance

I recently reviewed Philip Sawyers’s two Violin Sonatas released on Nimbus Alliance (NI6240). My conclusion was that in these days, when so much ‘art’ music has jumped onto the ‘pop’ or ‘minimalist’ bandwagon it is good to come across a composer whose music has emotion, challenge and structure.  His musical style has embraced some ‘honest, down-to-earth serial music that delights in a subtle balance between dissonance and consonance, controlled organization and moments of sheer inspiration’.  It is a supposition that holds good for the present release of these three important symphonic and concerted works.
Philip Sawyers has an excellent website where all necessary biographical information can be accessed. However a couple of notes may be of help. Sawyers was born in London in 1951. He studied violin with Colin Sauer, Joan Spencer and Max Rostal. Interestingly, his composition teacher was Helen Glatz, who had been a student of Ralph Vaughan Williams. Further guidance came from Buxton Orr, Patric Standford and Edmund Rubbra.  Between 1973 and 1997 he was a member of the Royal Opera House Orchestra at Covent Garden.  Sawyers concentrates now on composing, but fills his ‘spare time’ as a freelance violin teacher and player and as an adjudicator for the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music. It is not until the past 20 or so years that Sawyers has begun to make a considerable name for himself as a major composer. 
The earliest work on this CD is the Concertante for Violin, Piano and Strings which was composed in 2006: it was commissioned by the Czech violinist Tomas Tulacek.  The liner notes point out that there are few works for this combination: Josef Haydn and Felix Mendelssohn spring to mind.  The composer has written that this work is ‘quite playful in its outer sections’- conversely, I find that this ‘playfulness’ is edgy and even a little sinister. It may have been inspired by an eighteenth century divertimento, but these are deep waters with a central section that is almost heart-breaking in its exploration of the twelve-note theme.  The ‘finale’ moves a little towards easing the emotional tension, but this is no throwaway rondo designed to raise applause. This is a hard-won struggle to overcome the introspection of the slow movement.
The Symphony No. 2 was commissioned by the Sydenham International Music Festival and was duly premiered by the London Mozart Players under Robert Trory (who died sadly in August 2013). The only stipulation was that the ‘orchestral forces’ had to be the same as for Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony which was also included in the premiere’s programme. The composer has noted that his Symphony No. 2 is not in the ‘traditional four movement mould’. Notwithstanding this assertion, this single movement work does fall into the four sections – quick opening, slow second section, an intermezzo and a fourth ‘movement’  that reuses earlier material and rounds it all off with a substantial peroration. Sawyers has stated that the musical material of this symphony is ‘motivically based’ and that the ‘symphonic journey’ is of continual development. (Ah! How I love that word ‘development’ and not just ‘repetition’ or ‘repetition with slight variation’ that seems to haunt so much ‘modern’ music.)
The sound-world of this outstanding symphony is something of a ‘fusion’ – even without the score it is easy to ‘imagine’ the working-out of 12-tone techniques. There are moments when the listener may be tempted to think that the composer is using a particular key, and then this illusion is blown away, and Webernian atonalism seems to take grip. Post-romanticism is a keynote in some passages, as is the aggression of RVWs Fourth Symphony. But this ‘fusion’ is seamless and totally coherent: this is what makes Sawyers’ Symphony ‘great.’ It is a carefully contrived synthesis that is musically satisfying and successful. Add to this the colourful use of the orchestra and the stage is set for an important addition to the huge range of British Symphonies written over the past 150 years. But the most essential thing is that this is a powerful, emotionally charged work that inspires and moves the listener.
The latest work on this CD was also commissioned by the Sydenham International Music Festival for their 2010 event. It was written for the present soloist, the Serbian-French cellist Maja Bogdanovic.  The composer has suggested that although the concerto has some ‘technically demanding passages’ the intention was not to write a virtuosic showpiece, but more to reflect on what the ‘cello means to me and convey the moods and nuances of expression that I find most appealing in the instrument.’
This is an approachable work that makes an impact on first hearing. The liner notes mention a critical Saywers’ fingerprint already noted above; the ability to move easily between ‘quite traditional chords and a highly chromatic, freely dissonant harmonic vocabulary.’ Added to this is the wayward ‘interplay’ of emotions – at one moment lyrical, then spirited, sometimes ironic and occasionally ferocious. Yet these are not musical clichés that are strung together: they evolve and develop one to another. 
The Cello Concerto is an extremely satisfying representative of a genre that is relatively uncommon in British Music. If I was pressed, I would say that a ‘finger in the air’ comparison would be ‘Finzi meets Searle’ and discuss Schumann. But this is facile… Philip Sawyer’s Cello Concerto is unique and will reveal itself in repeated hearings: if it is given the chance.
The liner notes are excellent (and the print is not too small!) and offers an exploration of these three pieces of music by the present Principle Guest Conductor of the Swan Orchestra, Kenneth Woods. These are interpolated with notes by the composer. Included are biographical details about the performers and the Orchestra of the Swan which is based in Stratford-upon-Avon.
I consider that the performance of all three works are exemplary and display the orchestra’s skill and enthusiasm. The soloists are clearly impressive in their interpretation of this music.
One final thought. I am not a Beethoven fan. However, I can understand why he is ‘great’. His Seventh Symphony (the one that was performed alongside Sawyers’ Second) has some 299 recordings currently listed on Arkiv: Sawyers’ has this present one.  It seems to me that most British symphonies (apart from Elgar, RVW, Arnold etc.) seem to stretch to a single recording (if lucky) and less than a handful of performances. It is something that makes me go ‘Hmmm’. Is Beethoven that much better? I will listen to Sawyers’ 2 again – Beethoven (for me) can wait a wee while longer. 
Track Listing:
Cello Concerto (2010)
Symphony No.2 (2008) 
Concertante for Violin, Piano and Strings (2006)
Maja Bogdanovic (cello) Louisa Stonehill (violin) Nicholas Burns (piano) Orchestra of the Swan/Kenneth Woods
Rec. Civic Hall, Stratford-upon-Avon 14-15 May 2013
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Wednesday 17 September 2014

Frederic Curzon’s Miniature Overture: Punchinello

I have always had a soft spot for the antics of Mr Punch and his ‘friends’ since first seeing a performance of this classic seaside entertainment at the great Lancashire seaside of Fleetwood in 1969. (In fact, walking along the seafront there the other day, I noticed that he is still going strong-on Fridays during the summer). It is fortunate that the ‘plot’ of this burlesque has not been watered-down by the politically correct elite. Punchinello was an earlier incarnation of Punch: it appears that he was a clown from Italian puppet show. I wrote two years ago about a piece with the same title by a certain John Cottam Holliday. So it is nice to discover this equally good example by the once popular light music composer Frederic Curzon.
Frederic Curzon is now best recalled for his attractive, if slightly melancholic, piece The Dance of the Ostracised Imp. Cognoscenti of the genre will also enjoy his Iberian suite In Malaga as well as the more solidly British themes Robin Hood Suite in three movements.
The Miniature Overture: Punchinello was composed around 1948 and was dedicated to the Welsh-born conductor Rae Jenkins (1903-1985). Jenkins had performed many of Curzon’s short pieces on the Radio during the 1940s and 50s and led to the composer becoming (for a space) a household name.
It is hardly surprising that there is little critical commentary on this present piece, but it deserves listening to carefully. Curzon’s description of some of Punchinello’s adventures are neatly presented. Like so much of his music the orchestration is second to none.
It opens with a few sharp chords before a scurrying string theme begins the adventure. These chords to interrupt the proceedings every so often. The woodwind introduces another little tune that leads on from the scampering tune. After a little Coatesian ‘development’ the work concludes with a short sharp coda. There is no real contrasting tune to suggest a more romantic side to Punchinello’s nature. It is really just about mischief.
To my knowledge, there are three versions of this delightful work currently available in the Record Catalogues. As long ago as 1991, Marco Polo brought out a retrospective of Curzon’s music on 8.223425. This presented most of the composer’s pot-boiler’s including the titles mentioned above.  There is the February 1962 recording made by George Weldon with the Pro Arte Orchestra on the EMI sampler of light music 0887962The final version is part of Guild’s The Golden Age of Light Music –Great British Composers Volume 2 GUILD GLCD 5203. No recording has reached YouTube yet. 

Monday 15 September 2014

Ernest Tomlinson: An English Overture

This is one of my favourite pieces by Ernest Tomlinson in spite of the fact that I am not normally a fan of a potpourri of melodies being strung together. Certainly, Tomlinson has made quite a collection of tunes in this work. I guess, if I am honest, that there were a fair few that I did not get – my excuse is that I went to Scottish schools and majored on Scottish songs. However, there will be few people from any corner of the British Isles  who do not recognise ‘Come Lasses and Lads’, ‘Greensleeves’, ‘Oh! Dear What can the Matter be’, ‘Over the Hills and Far Away’, and ‘Lillibulero’.  Tomlinson has revealed that this work was originally conceived for brass band, ‘specifically’ for Foden’s Band conducted by Harry Mortimer. At that time is was known more appositely as an Overture on Famous English Airs. When the work was transcribed for orchestra it was renamed.  Other tunes that the attentive listener will hear are ‘Here's a Health unto His Majesty’, ‘Old King Cole’, ‘King Arthur Ruled the Land’, ‘Gossip Joan’, ‘Begone Dull Care’ and ‘The Lincolnshire Poacher’. Like so much of Tomlinson’s music it is the skill that he brings to the orchestration of each melody. In fact, there are times that one is not really conscious that this is really just one song after another with a well-judged reprise of the opening tune in the last bars.
Andrew Lamb, writing in The Gramophone magazine considers that the English Overture is ‘clever, but rather brash’, which I guess is the intended effect.  I feel that it would be an ideal work for the Last Night of the Proms. However to keep a sense of equality, some similar work would have to be found for Scotland, Wales and the Isle of Man. Certainly, Haydn Wood could provide the solution for that latter country with his fine ‘Manx Overture’. And then there is Edward German’s ‘Welsh Rhapsody’ and not to be forgotten is Ronald Binge’s ‘Scottish Rhapsody’. Finally, one or two of Stanford’s Irish Rhapsodies would be a good choice for Ulster and Eire. Everyone happy!

Ernest Tomlinson’s An English Overture can be heard on Marco Polo 8.223413 with the Bratislava Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by the composer

Friday 12 September 2014

John Addison: Film Music for ‘The Maggie’

One of my favourite films is the 1954 Ealing Comedy The Maggie. This film owes its inspiration to the Para Handy stories written by the Scottish author Neil Munro. These tales were originally published in the Glasgow Evening News under the pseudonym of Hugh Foulis and concerned themselves with the adventures of the crew of one of the Clyde’s once ubiquitous ‘puffers’ the Vital Spark.  These vessels were used to transport coal and other essential supplies from Glasgow to the Clyde Coast piers, Loch Fyne and the Western Isles. The Maggie was set in the nineteen fifties, whereas the original Para Handy (Peter Macfarlane) was sailing before and during the Great War.  Much of the action of the film is set on location at Glasgow, the beautiful Crinan canal and in Bowmore on Islay. The plot (no spoilers are given here) concerns an American business man, Calvin T. Marshall (Paul Douglas) who requires a cargo of bathroom fittings moved from Glasgow to Killtara where he has bought a house. Naturally, there is some confusion, and instead of Marshall’s secretary Pusey (played by Hubert Gregg) engaging a ‘reputable’ company’s vessel, he hires Captain Peter MacTaggart’s (Alex Mackenzie) boat the Maggie. Other characters of note include the mate, the engineer, Dougie the Wee Boy and the captain’s sister Sarah MacTaggart who is the owner of the puffer. Needless to say the progress of Marshall’s cargo is not without incident and humour. In the end the story ends happily.
The music for the film was written by the British composer John Addison (1920-1998). Addison is largely remembered today for his film scores which include Reach for the Sky, A Bridge too Far and Tom Jones. He wrote the theme music to the hugely successful Murder, She Wrote starring Angela Lansbury. He also composed ‘art’ music including a vivacious ballet score Carte Blanche, a fine Partita for strings, a Trumpet Concerto and a Sextet for woodwind written in 1949 and performed at the 1951 ISCM Festival.
There are two musical extracts available from the score to The Maggie. The first is included in the Chandos retrospective of John Addison’s film music. This is really an agreeable arrangement of one of the main themes from film ‘The Song of The Maggie’. It is well-played by the BBC Concert Orchestra under Rumon Gamba.  However, more useful and characteristic is the opening and closing credits of the actual film sound track which is uploaded to YouTube. In spite of the sound being a little muddy and indistinct this presents a good overall impression of the mood of the score. It features the concertina which gives a certain nostalgic feel to this music. I am not sure just quite how Scottish this music is, but it seems to fit the nautical mood of the film. Listeners will note that there is no ‘love interest’ in this film (apart from a little heart to heart between Calvin Marshall and Sheena after the ceilidh) so there is no big romantic theme. Addison has presented one or two sinister phrases in this opening music – perhaps reflecting the conflict with the Laird or maybe even the Marshall’s relationship with his wife (who is not seen on screen).
For transport enthusiasts there are great shots of contemporary motor cars, aeroplanes, cargo vessels as well as the dilapidated puffer. The Maggie was actually filmed using two vessels supplied by Hays and Co, a Glasgow based cargo shipment firm.

Clips from the film can be seen at the British Film Institute Screen Online website. (Registration Required).  The DVD is available from Amazon

Tuesday 9 September 2014

Lost Works No.3: Walford Davies' Holiday Tunes

Walford Davies’ Holiday Tunes which had impressed Henry Wood was a suite in some seven movements. It was written to “express the joyous feelings often associated with holidays, but not necessarily restricted to them.” In short this was a meditation on the ‘holiday spirit.’ It is worth quoting the Musical Times reviewer in full on this work:-
'The opening allegro energico starts with a violin solo announcing the principal theme which, since it is headed estatico, may be intended to express pleasurable anticipations. This at least accords with the spirit of the movement, which is developed at some length. The second number is delightfully humorous and dainty, and has for its chief subject quaint little tune of ingratiating character. A deeper note is struck in the third section and andante con moto of poetic expression, and having a finale of great beauty.’ Here the reviewer appears to have lost interest. The remaining four movements are quickly summed up as being of less importance, ‘consist[ing] of a Presto (in G) of gay character; a short peaceful andante tranquillo; a rocking tune which might be described as a lullaby, since it is based on the composer’s setting of George Wither’s poem ‘Sweet baby, sleep,’ and a bustling finale in march rhythm.’
Holiday Tunes is a work that appears to fall into the category of 'light’ music. Perhaps one of the CD companies that specialise in ‘light music discoveries’ could be tempted to revive this work. I guess it would sit well with Percy Whitlock’s Holiday Suite.

Saturday 6 September 2014

'A Memorial Tribute to Ralph Vaughan Williams' on Everest

In the 1970s, I bought the entire collection of Ralph Vaughan Williams’ Symphonies with Sir Adrian Boult conducting the London Philharmonic Orchestra. These had been released on the iconic Decca Eclipse label.  The only problem was that Decca had not issued the final Symphony, No. 9.  A short time later I bought the 1969 recording with the same conductor and orchestra: it was coupled with the rarely heard ‘Fantasia on Old 104th’ (HMV ASD2581).  I was lucky to have a friend who owned an original vinyl LP of the present CD. I was impressed with this at the time and have long regarded it as not only my preferred recording amongst the dozen or so CDs currently available of this symphony, but as my favourite of the entire symphonic cycle. It is good to have the opportunity to add it to my CD collection. I note that it was released in this format some 15 years ago coupled with Malcolm Arnold’s Third Symphony. It was reviewed by Rob Barnett on MusicWeb International in November 2000. It seems to have passed me by.
This re-release of the composer’s last great symphonic masterpiece has a poignant historical footnote. RVW was due to attend the recording sessions at Walthamstow Assembly Hall, but died sadly a few hours before the session began. The short spoken introduction by Sir Adrian reflects this event- it has been included on this CD.  The Symphony No.9 was composed largely in London during 1956-7 and also whilst the composer was visiting Majorca and at Ashmansworth whilst staying with Gerald Finzi. It was premiered by Sir Malcolm Sargent and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall on 2 April 1958.
The Symphony No.9 did not impress the musical public quite as much as some of the other works in the cycle. Michael Kennedy wrote, there was no denying the coolness of the critics' reception of the music. Its enigmatic mood puzzled them, and more attention was therefore paid to the use of the flugel horn and to the flippant programme note (by the composer).’ In more recent years the symphony has been reappraised and is deemed by many to be a ‘masterpiece.’  RVW had originally intended to write a symphony based on Thomas Hardy’s great novel Tess of the D’Urbervilles. However this was largely abandoned. Incorporated into the structure of the symphony are references to the Sea Symphony and the tone-poem The Solent (thankfully now available on CD). Elements of the putative ‘programme’ do not interfere with the musical enjoyment of this ‘untitled’ work.
I find that the subtle balance of drama and lyrical eloquence of Boult’s 1958 recording is completely satisfying. It has been suggested that this is a ‘harrowing’ performance, reflecting the grief felt at the composer’s death by both players and the conductor. However, there is (for me) a warmth in much of this music that balances the passages that are clearly troubled.
The liner notes feature the original detailed analysis of the symphony derived largely from the composer’s own notes. There is also an interesting ‘technical spec’ of the recording technology which appeared with the LP. The original artwork is retained – which may not be flattering to the composer, but is appropriate to capturing the original mood of the disc.
Everest is in the process of releasing their entire back-catalogue of recordings. These are very reasonably priced, which reflects the fact that they are exact replicas of the original LP in length and in programme.  The original advertising blurb announced ‘Great music…great performances…magnificent new recording techniques…there’s the Everest best-selling combination.’ All this holds good today. I can hardly believe that this music was recorded 56 years ago. Everything about this CD is perfect.

Track Listing:
Ralph VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958)
Symphony No.9 in E minor (1958)
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Sir Adrian Boult
Rec. Walthamstow Assembly Hall, London August 1958
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Wednesday 3 September 2014

Moura Lympany: Debussy’s 'Claire de Lune'

On 3 November 1952 Moura Lympany recorded the ubiquitous ‘Claire de Lune’ from Claude Debussy’s Suite Bergamasque (1890). It was released on HMV C4203 coupled with Isaac Albeniz’s well known Tango in D major arranged by Leopold Godowsky. An advert for the record appeared in the January 1953 edition of The Gramophone magazine alongside new releases such as Kirsten Flagstad and Gerald Moore performing Schubert’s ‘Frühlingsglaube’ and ‘Im Abendrot’ and Jascha Heifetz’s rendition of Saint-Saëns Havanaise Op.83.
‘Claire de Lune’ is the third piece in the Suite Bergamasque: it comes after the ‘Prelude’, the ‘Menuet’ and is followed by a ‘Passepied’. The original title of ‘Claire de Lune’ may have been ‘Promenade Sentimentale’ and the last movement was to have been a ‘Pavane’.  The four pieces were composed around 1890 but were not published until1905. It was Debussy’s intention to try to capture the ‘delicacy and elegance’ of the early days of the French clavecin (harpsichord).
Frank Dawes (BBC Music Guide: Debussy Piano Music, 1969, 1975) has noted that the title possibly refers to Verlaine’s poem of the same name ‘in which long-dead dancers in the moonlight [are] dancing forever to a ghostly music.’
Robert Schmitz (The Piano Works of Claude Debussy, 1950) has written that the most important requirement for a good performance of the piece is to ensure that ‘no bench-in-the-park’ be part of it. It must be contemplative and trustful.’ 
The contemporary 1955 edition of the Record Guide edited by Edward Sackville-West and Desmond Shawe Taylor refers to Moura Lympany’s ‘quiet and lucid performance [being] in full accord with the title.
H.F. (Harry Farjeon?) writing in the same edition of The Gramophone noted above suggests that Moura Lympany has presented ‘Claire de Lune’ as a ‘calculated performance.’ He notes no ‘uncalled for mistiness or fussy romance.’ He imagines that the moon is ‘bien clair’ and that around it is almost as bright as daylight though more subtly charming.’ 
I have never considered the middle section of Debussy’s well-known piece to contain ‘mild excitement’ however H.F. believes that this is well-achieved.  But the important point is that Miss Lympany does not ‘hold herself back through any lack of generous pianistic feeling, only through deliberate reserve’. He concluded by admitting her ‘effects were a little posed.’ Interestingly the reviewer felt that the sound level of 'Claire de Lune' was considerably lower than the Tango.
Jeremy Nicolas (The Gramophone Awards 2013) in a review of the APR Recordings 2012 reissue of this record on CD, notes that ‘Claire de Lune’ can often lapse into sentimentality, and therefore by default implies that Lympany has avoided this ‘besetting’ sin.
This is a version of ‘Claire de Lune’ that I am delighted to have in my collection, in spite of any residual surface noise retained after transfer from the 78’s.
Moura Lympany’s 1952 performance of Claude Debussy’s ‘Claire de Lune’ can be heard on APR Recordings APR6011 and a brief extract can be heard on the Hyperion Website