Introducing York Bowen

Edwin York Bowen (1884-1961) was an accomplished English composer and pianist. This ‘English Rachmaninov’ as he was lazily dubbed, was once widely feted by the musical establishment. He was particularly lauded by Camille Saint-Saëns and impressed the enigmatic Kaikhosru Sorabji. His music was widely performed and at the height of his career he would have been tipped as an up-and-coming master of British music. His musical achievement spanned five decades, during which he crafted an impressive catalogue of more than 160 compositions. Beyond his roles as a pianist and composer, Bowen also excelled as an organist, violist, and horn player.

Despite achieving considerable acclaim during his lifetime, many of Bowen’s works remained hidden from the public eye until after his passing in 1961. He had a problem which was his downfall: his music is approachable and does not challenge the listener with stylistic extremes. He was not a radical composer: he did not experiment with popular and ‘essential’ new fashions such as serialism. Bowen’s music is romantic and was gradually perceived to be out-of-date and passé. His reputation as a composer was gone by the time of his death in 1961. His compositional style is firmly rooted in the Romantic tradition, and his pieces are distinguished by their opulent harmonic language. Notably, Bowen’s contributions to piano music established him as one of the most prominent English composers of his era.

Brief Biography

• Edwin Yorke [York] Bowen in Crouch Hill, London on 22 February 1884
• Studied at the North Metropolitan College of Music and at the Blackheath Conservatoire under Alfred Izzard.
• Aged fourteen, he won the Erard Scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music.
• Studied piano there under Tobias Matthay and composition with Frederic Corder.
• Was influenced by the Richard Wagner, Franz Liszt, Richard Strauss, and the Russian Nationalists
• First Promenade Concert Novelty The Lament of Tasso premiered on 1 September 1903.
• Toured United Kingdom performing wide variety of romantic music, including his own works.
• Gave many performances at the Royal Albert Hall and the Queen’s Hall.
• In 1905 he left the R.A.M. and began to teach at the Tobias Matthay Pianoforte School.
• Was appointed Professor of Music at R.A.M. in 1909
• Married actress (Dorothy) Sylvia Beatrice Dalton (1888-1967) on 23 April 1912.
• Served in the Band of the Scots Guards during the First World War.
• Much of his career was spent as an examiner and teacher.
• Authored two pedagogical books, Pedalling the Modern Piano Forte (London, 1936) and The Simplicity of Piano Technique (London, 1961)
• Aged seventy-five he retired from the R.A.M.
• York Bowen died in Hampstead on 23 November 1961

Twelve Selected Works

York Bowen produced a large catalogue of music, including three symphonies, four piano concertos, and individual concertos for violin, horn, and viola. He was adept at writing chamber music, with a special emphasis on the flute. As a superlative pianist it is not surprising that there is much piano music, with six sonatas, a multitude of character pieces and several works designed to improve technique.

All the pieces listed below are available on CD, download or streaming.

1. Symphonic Fantasia - a tone poem, op.16 (1905)
2. Viola Concerto in C minor, op.25, (1907)
3. Symphony No.2 in E minor, op.31 (1909-11)
4. Piano Sonata No.5 in F minor, op.72 (1923)
5. The Way to Polden (An Ambling Tune), op. 76 (1925)
6. Piano Concerto No.4 in A minor, op.88 (1929)
7. 24 Preludes, op. 102: A collection of preludes for piano (1938, pub.1950)
8. Violin Sonata in E minor op.112 (1945)
9. Fantasy Overture on "Tom Bowling", op.115 (1945)
10. Sonata for Flute and Piano, op. 120 (1946)
11. Sonatina, op. 144 (1954)
12. Partita, op.156 (1960) 

Further Reading

There is little information about York Bowen in libraries or online. The most significant text is Monica Watson’s, York Bowen: a centenary tribute (1984) and printed by Thames Publishing. It is currently out of print but will be available to borrow from libraries. It is not a formal biography or technical analysis of Bowen’s music, but an “affectionate account of Bowen's life, written by a close friend and former pupil to mark the centenary of his birth.” (Stuart R Craggs, Musical Times, November 1984, p.657.) The volume does include a comprehensive list of works, arranged by genre.

There are several theses dealing with aspects of Bowen’s music. These include Chia-ling Hsieh’s An Analytical Study of York Bowen’s Twenty-four Preludes in All Major and Minor Keys, Op. 102 (2010), and William Kenton Lanier’s The Viola Music of York Bowen: Lionel Tertis, York Bowen, and the Rise of the Viola in Early Twentieth-Century England (2009).

The interested listener will rely on the entries in Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians, the Oxford National Biography and Wikipedia. Many reviews appear in contemporary newspapers and musical journals.

There is a York Bowen webpage which was begun in 2006, however this does not appear to have been updated since 2012. In 2008, a York Bowen Society was mooted, but this has not come to fruition.

If you can only hear one CD…

This is a tricky question. As Bowen’s main contribution was to the solo piano music repertoire, it would seem best to suggest an album dedicated to these pieces. On the other hand, his orchestral music is important too. So, as a compromise I suggest the Dutton Epoch CD (CDLX 7187) which includes the Piano Concertos Nos. 2 and 3, as well as the wonderfully romantic Symphonic Fantasia - a long tone poem, op.16 (1905). This allows the listener to get to grips with Bowen’s pianism, albeit accompanied by an orchestra. The American Record Review reported that “This is high-Victorian musical rhetoric, full of good breeding and good taste: the Lisztian piano writing sparkles, the orchestration is transparent. The BBC Concert Orchestra plays as if it believes in this stuff…” On listening to this album, it is hard to understand why these works are not in the concert schedules.

If solo piano music is desired, then Stephen Hough’s remarkable survey on Hyperion (CDA66838) is a great investment. It includes a broad selection from Bowen’s masterpiece, the 24 Preludes, op. 102, as well as the Piano Sonata No.5 in F minor, op.72 (1923) and a number of smaller pieces.

Finally, if you can only listen to one work…

It must be the 24 Preludes, op. 102. This cycle of miniature pieces covers all the major and minor keys. They are largely ‘romantic’ in ethos and are full of Bowen’s characteristic pianism complementing a rich harmonic language.

Kaikhosru Sorabji described these preludes as "the finest English piano music written in our time.” Some may regard this as a little over the top, but we get the drift.

My personal favourite of the set is No. 7 in Eb major. Surely, this is one piece that justifies Bowen’s nickname as the ‘English Rachmaninov’? It is a delicious piece that is full of colour and downright ‘heart on sleeve’ romance. When one considers how late these pieces were written, it is not surprising that some critics regard them as derivative and old-fashioned. Yet there is magic and beauty in these Preludes that defies analysis.

The Kreutzer Effect: Edward Cowie

The context of this new CD of music by Edward Cowie is his long-running collaboration with the Kreutzer Quartet. Over the past decade they have recorded the composer’s first six string quartets, as well as participating in several solo and duo works. The String Quartet No.7 (“Western Australia”) was written with the talents of the Kreutzer in mind. In addition, Cowie has produced four “portrait pieces” dedicated to each member of the ensemble. It does not state when these four pieces were composed. I am guessing that it would be around the same time as the Quartet, 2017.

I acknowledge the extensive liner notes which I have mined in the preparation of this review.

The CD opens with Glaukopis described as “Five Atmospheric Nocturnes for Athena.” The title derives from the Homeric name for the goddess of wisdom and war, Athene, but may also refer to the Greek phrase for owl-faced or owl-eyed. Written for solo cello, this suite “places five distinct species of European and British owls in their own typical dusk and nocturnal habitats. These may be dark and brooding woods; sparse and remote moorland; jade and black shaded conifer forest or the open pastures of farmland fields and meadows.”

The first movement explores the Little Owl which carries the name Athene Noctua. Moving then to the Tawny Owl (Strix aluco) and then short-eared (Asio flammeus) and long-eared owls, (Asio otus) the suite ends with the barn owl (Tyto alba).

Cowie states that “All of these avian and mythological characteristics are evoked in this suite for cello.” They are not studies of birdsong, in the sense of Olivier Messiaen, but are intended to exploit the “colour and phrase” resources of the cello, which include a wide range of “dynamic and expressive techniques.” That said, there are some “screeches” which may be a direct representation of the owls. It is an ear-catching work that is successful in creating a numinous and nocturnal atmosphere.

Ever since reading about Daedalus and Icarus in primary school days (it was probably a bowdlerised edition of Ovid), I have enjoyed the story of the father and son’s escape from imprisonment in Crete. By using wings, they fly high above the Aegean Sea. Despite his dad’s warning Icarus flies higher and higher towards the sun. Sadly, the wax is melted, and the lad falls into the ocean. A wonderful tale. This myth is often interpreted as exploring the pitfalls of excessive ambition.

Edward Cowie has used this fable as the starting point for an “aria for solo viola and about global warming” (I did think it was nowadays referred to as Climate Change). The musical symbolism is obvious: starting with the lowest note a viola can play the music climbs slowly ever higher by way of “a progress-by-variation.” The ultimate moral of the work is that it turns out “that Icarus is the entire human race. In wishing to progress and rise, our species approaches a point of self-destruction-a world-once-noisy left without the ‘sounds of life.’” One could counter this philosophy by suggesting that humankind may be able to get itself out of the mess by its determination and ingenuity - if it so chooses.

If you like vocalisation, screams and mutterings, the use of a metronome as a prop and disjointed, hard edged, violin music, then On Second Fiddle is just the number for you. I found it challenging to say the least. I am sure that Mihailo Trandafilovski (violin) gives it his best shot. The allusion in the title refers to the fact that this member of the quartet plays Second Violin. 

I found the Menurida Variants longwinded. At thirteen minutes for a solo violin piece, it demands more concentration than many listeners may be prepared to commit to. Once again there are vocal noises off which add nothing to the sometimes-beautiful violin “melodies” and passage work. Based on Cowie’s response to the “song” of the Australian Lyrebird. He records “The sky was fast altering from jade shadows and indigo darkness into bronze and fiery copper and red dawn light. It was at this hinterland between night and day that a solitary Lyrebird began his grand cadenzas on the sonatas of the night. So magnificent; so complex; so virtuosic and rich was this song that I doubted I could ever compose something that would evoke (not imitate) the magic of that morning.” Whether he achieves this is up to the hearer to decide. For me, he does, but with the above-mentioned caveats. 

The String Quartet No.7 (“Western Australia”) was finished in 2017, after what Cowie calls a “mind blowing three weeks exploring (north) Western Australia.” He was impressed by a constant flow of new life forms and vistas as he travelled. This suggested to him the “possibility of music that travels and mutates.” He continues by explaining that the musical progress evolved in a continuous line, but “also of ‘places’ (musical passages), where it is necessary to stop and explore the intricacies and complexity of form at each pausing place.” This sense of forward momentum with pauses informs the first movement - The Road of Flowers. The middle movement, Hamelin Pool – Shark Bay is a subtle balance between “movement and stasis.” It is a meditation on the acrobatic displays of birds, the “Blue on blue horizons” of the seascape, and the 3,500-million-year-old algae found there. The music coruscates and sparkles, before dissolving into the ether. It is the mysterious Pinnacles: Nambung National Park that informs the final movement. (Look them up on Google: they are amazing). This site was sacred to the Aboriginal community. Cowie considers the multitude of shapes apparent in these natural sculptures. The music reflects these ever-evolving shapes, with the movement ending in a shimmer of light before dying to ‘niente.’ 

The thorough liner notes are written by Edward Cowie, with additional material from members of the Quartet. There are the usual biographical details of all concerned. The booklet is illustrated with photographs of the recording session, the composer, and the quartet. The evocative cover painting was created by Heather Cowie. The recording is splendid. And the performance is clearly formidable. 

Summing up, I did not enjoy On Second Fiddle or the Menurida Variants. I was impressed with Icarus and the Glaukopis. But the highlight of this CD is the String Quartet No.7. It is a splendid and often moving portrayal of “the ever-changing landscapes and intricate ecosystems of Western Australia, inviting listeners on a transformative journey through time and space.” 

Track Listing:
Edward Cowie (b.1943)
Glaukopis
Whatever happened to Icarus?
One Second Fiddle
Menurida Variants
String Quartet No.7 (“Western Australia”)
The Kreutzer Quartet: Peter Sheppard Skærved (violin), Mihailo Trandafilovski (violin), Clifton Harrison (viola), Neil Heyde (cello)
rec. 7 June 2022 (String Quartet No.7); 28 June 2022 (One Second Fiddle & Glaukopis); 19 February 2023 (Menurida Variants); 21 June 2023 (Whatever happened to Icarus), Hastoe Village Hall, Tring, Hertfordshire.
Métier MEX 77103

Hidden Holst IV: Piece for Yvonne H.154 (1924)

Gustav Holst is rarely recalled for his contribution to the piano repertoire. To be sure there are only a handful of full-blown works designed for the recital room. Best known is the Toccata (1924) and the Chrissemas Day in the Morning (1926.) There are also transcriptions of The Planets (1914-1916) and The Perfect Fool (1918-1922).

Michael Short (Gustav Holst: The Man and his Music, Oxford, 1990, p.224) noted that since Holst had completed the score of the large-scale Choral Symphony in May 1924, he stated that he had composed nothing new. In a letter to William Gillies Whittaker Holst wrote that “This has been the only blank August as regards composing that I can remember, but it does not matter after my wonderful Spring and although I haven’t really begun anything fresh, I feel that it is just waiting round the corner.””  Short suggests that this “must have meant large-scale compositions, for Holst was in fact working on smaller pieces, and in the same letter he confessed to “spoiling music paper to a vast extent.” He was using this time to “catch up on some projects which had been shelved during the composition of other works.” (op.cit.). At this time, Holst was residing in Thaxted, Essex.

In fact, the year 1924 saw several compositions worked on, including At the Boar’s Head, the above-mentioned Toccata for piano and the Two Motets: The Evening Watch and Sing Me the Men.

Piece for Yvonne was also completed during 1924. It was dedicated to Yvonne O’Neill, the eight-year-old daughter of fellow musicians Norman and Adine O’ Neill. On 21 July 1924 Holst wrote: “Dear Adine, I started Yvonne’s piece about two years ago but gave it up because I felt sure she would not approve of the time signature, and I could not find a way of altering it. However, your letter has inspired me to finish it so here it is with my Respects to the young lady and her mother.” (Imogen Holst, A Thematic Catalogue of Gustav’s Holst’s Music, Faber, 1974, p.150).

The piece as eventually sent to Yvonne was marked up by Holst “Allegro (or Andante if you prefer)” adding “if the piece is not easy enough let me know and I will (a) call it my second toccata (b) dedicate it to Yvonne’s mother (c) write something else for her.” (Sleeve Note Chan.9382).

Imogen Holst (op.cit.) notes that in 1974 it was still in manuscript, which was in her possession. It had not been included in Gustav’s personal list of works. In recent years it was edited and published by Raymond Head.

The publisher’s webpage describes the piece as an “attractive, tuneful, and quirky…piano piece, a delightful “folky” addition to the piano repertory suitable for adult or child of grades 2-3 standard.” In fact, it is a little pastoral that sounds effective, without being condescending. The 7/4 time signature makes it just a little bit unusual. 

In 1995 Chandos released a disc of piano music by Gustav Holst and Constant Lambert (CHAN 9382). It included the “complete” piano music of Holst as well as Lambert’s Piano Sonata, Elegy and Elegiac Blues. The soloist was Anthony Goldstone with assistance from Caroline Clemmow in the Two Dances for piano duet.

Listen to Anthony Goldstone playing the Piece for Yvonne on YouTube, here.

Organ Masterworks IV: Kenneth Leighton’s Prelude, Scherzo and Passacaglia, op.41

I cannot remember where or when I first heard Kenneth Leighton’s Prelude, Scherzo and Passacaglia, op.41. I think it must have been in the early 1970s when I was learning to play the organ. However, I do recall buying a copy of the score in Biggar’s’ music shop in Sauchiehall Street. It was published by Novello in their International Series of Contemporary Organ Music and was still issued in the buff-coloured cover. I knew that it was beyond me at that time. It is still in my library, read, but unplayed.

Despite being a Yorkshireman, Kenneth Leighton is often regarded as an “honorary” Scottish composer. Born on 2 October 1929, he was a pupil at Queen Elizabeth Grammar School, and chorister at Wakefield Cathedral. In 1947, Leighton read Classics at Queen’s College, Oxford, before including music in his fourth year, studying under Bernard Rose. He relocated to Rome in 1951 to study with the Italian composer, conductor and academic Goffredo Petrassi (1904-2003). Petrassi introduced him to several stylistic tools, including neoclassicism, Bergian serialism and some post-Webern ‘avant-garde’ techniques. Yet, Leighton was not a “method” composer: to each technique he brings his own unique imagination. He taught at the universities in Leeds and Oxford before he was appointed as Reid Professor of Music at Edinburgh University in 1970. Kenneth Leighton died in Edinburgh on 24 August 1988.

Leighton’s catalogue is wide-ranging and includes three symphonies, various concertos, the opera Columbia, chamber music, piano pieces and many church anthems and services. His contribution to the organ loft is significant. He is best recalled for his Fanfare in Easy Modern Organ Music, Book 1 (OUP, 1967) and the Paean in Modern Organ Music, Book 2 (OUP, 1967). Larger scale works for that instrument include Et Resurrexit (Theme, Fantasy, and Fugue) op. 49 (1966), and the Six Fantasies on Hymn Tunes, op. 72 (1975). Significantly there is also an Organ Concerto, op.58 (1970) and the large-scale solo, Missa de Gloria, op. 82 (1980).

For choir leaders looking for interesting anthems and services, there is Give me the wings of faith (1962), What Love is this of thine? (1985) and the Missa Brevis, op.50 (1967). Lovers of the British pastoral school of orchestral music as exemplified by Gerald Finzi and Ralph Vaughan Williams will find Veris Gratia for cello and orchestra, op.6 (1950) hauntingly beautiful.

Kenneth Leighton’s music is typically approachable, sometimes challenging, but nearly always with an underlying romanticism and deeply felt lyricism. Major influences on his style include Bach and Brahms, as well as Bartók, Dallapiccola and Hindemith. The latest edition of the British Music Society’s British Composer Profiles (2012) has well summed up his achievement: “it bears a highly distinctive hallmark…often deeply religious, always sincere…never sombre, it can exhibit a wildness of spirit or express exuberance and merriment without ever loosing dignity, it can be passionate, austere, granitic or gentle, but displays an unerringly faultless craftsmanship…”

The Prelude, Scherzo and Passacaglia, op.41 was commissioned by Dr Bryan Hesford, the then organist of Brecon Cathedral and was premiered by him at Norwich Cathedral on 24 October 1963. Lasting for more than twenty minutes it is based on the development of a simple melodic motif which is expressed in the opening bars of the Prelude. The Scherzo is essentially a baroque gigue that juxtaposes edgy music with something that is inherently playful. The Passacaglia, which is based on a twelve-note theme, creates a darker and more intense mood than the preceding scherzo. It is used, twisted, and then turned back on itself. The entire work is a clever balance of traditional contrapuntal devices and more contemporary harmonic language. The overall impression is of a work of consummate skill, responding to all the possibilities of the medium. It is hard to believe that this was Leighton’s first essay for the organ.

Organist and musicologist John Henderson (A Directory of Composers for Organ, 1996) has concisely described the Prelude, Scherzo and Passacaglia as “A fine piece which has stood the test of time well, the prelude is chromatic and neurotic, the scherzo is impish though demonic, and the passacaglia builds up to a dramatic conclusion.”

I agree with Arthur Milner, (Musical Opinion, October 1964), that this is “the finest composition for organ by an English composer of the last thirty years.” (i.e. from the 1930s to the 1960s). For me, it is Leighton’s organ masterwork.

With thanks to the Glasgow Diapason where this essay was first printed. 

It's not British, but...Durufle and Poulenc

Listeners will recall that there are three versions of Maurice Duruflé’s Requiem, op.9. The first was completed in 1947 and was scored for choir and full orchestra. The following year, the composer arranged it for choir and organ. In 1961, he reworked it for choir, chamber orchestra and organ. The present recording is of the 1948 edition.

The genesis of the work was a 1941 commission from the French Vichy government for a symphonic poem. Somehow, Duruflé changed his remit to a Requiem. Unbelievably, despite failing to fulfil his contract, the succeeding government paid him an enhanced fee.

The model for this Requiem is Fauré’s earlier example. Yet, this is not just an imitation of the elder composer’s magnum opus but is a respectful tribute. Duruflé explained: “I do not think I was influenced by Fauré, contrary to the opinion of certain music critics who, anyway, have never given any explanation for their point of view. I have simply tried to surround myself with the style suitable to Gregorian chants as well as the rhythmic interpretation of the Benedictines of Solesmes.” Each movement was based on Gregorian chant from the Mass for the Dead.

A major difference between the Requiems of Fauré and Duruflé from those of Berlioz and Verdi is their concentration on rest and peace, rather than “tragic images of hellfire and heaven storming grief.” Gone were the Day of Judgement texts (Dies Irae) and in came the optimistic In Paradisum.

Any recording of Duruflé’s Requiem must balance its eclectic stylistic characteristics. I have already mentioned the Gregorian rhythms. There are passages that nod to the polyphony of the baroque era. Sheer romanticism is apparent in many passages. And finally, there are parts of this work that reinforce the title of Ronald Ebrecht’s collection of essays: Maurice Duruflé – The Last Impressionist. This latter characteristic is obvious in the Introit and parts of the Sanctus. Texture varies considerably. From a cappella to fully accompanied singing, unison passages, counterpoint, and harmony, as well as soloists, all lend a tremendous sense of variety.

I have heard several performances of Duruflé’s Requiem over the years, both on disc and in the concert hall/church. I was impressed by The Choir of Trinity College Cambridge and Stephen Layton on this disc. I guess that any performance must be able to cast its spell on each new generation of listeners and performers.

The conductor Robin Ticciati has described the work as “a balm for the soul, a score filled with tremendous hope and peaceful searching.”  The present recording provides the listener with this consolation. I can ask no more.

A decided bonus on this disc is the remarkable performance of Francis Poulenc’s a capella Quatre motets pour un temps de pénitence. They were all finished just before the outbreak of the Second World War. Timor et tremor dates from January 1939, Vinea mea electa during December 1938, the third, Tenebrae factae sunt from July 1938, and the final number, Tristis est anima mea was written in Paris during November 1938.

Like in Duruflé’s Requiem, Poulenc used “found” material in Gregorian plainchant, once again from the Mass for the Dead. These four motets manage to create a sense of timelessness. They combine plainchant, sensuous harmonies, wide mood swings and stylistic challenges. The present recording emphasises the profundity of Poulenc’s feelings in these four motets and captures the anxiety in the air when they were composed. They are far removed from the “Harlequin Years” of his early piano music.

The liner notes by Roger Nichols give a detailed and helpful introduction to both works. They are also printed in French and German. The texts are given in Latin and English. There are useful resumes of the Choir of Trinity College and their director, Stephen Layton.

This is an ideal recording of Duruflé’s Requiem. The advertising script for this CD hits the nail on the head: this work “continues to cast its potent spell over performers and listeners alike. This new recording from Stephen Layton and his Trinity forces fully deserves to be regarded as ‘definitive.’”

Track Listing:
Maurice Duruflé (1902-86)
Requiem, op.9 (1947/1948)
Francis Poulenc (1899-1963)
Quatre motets pour un temps de pénitence FP97 (1938-39)
Harrison Cole (organ), The Choir of Trinity College Cambridge/Stephen Layton
rec. 31 July 2021 Trinty College Chapel, Cambridge (Poulenc); 15-20 July 2022, Church of Saint-Eustache, Paris (Duruflé)
Hyperion CDA68436
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Leroy Anderson: The Classical Jukebox (1950)

I remember the jukebox in Tony’s Italian café in the Scottish village I was brought up in. In the past I have been in a pub or club where the nickelodeons were in use. I always enjoyed watching the mechanism load the 45rpm platter onto the turntable.

The heyday of the jukebox was the late 1940s when they played swing and early rock records in dinersand transport cafes. Both in America and here in the UK they became “cultural icons” promoting the post-war lifestyle.

In 1950, the American singer Teresa Brewer (1931-2007) had a major hit with the song Music! Music! Music! This can be heard on YouTube, here.

Leroy Anderson was so impressed with this song that he used it as the “theme” for his A Classical Jukebox. The clever thing was that he took the tune and wrote parodies of famous classical tunes. Opening with a hat tip to Richard Wagner’s Tannhäuser, followed by pastiche of Delibes’ ballets and Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. At one point the needle in the jukebox gets stuck with a short phrase being repeated several times. This humorous touch would have been a common experience for customers back in the day before CDs and streaming.

Anderson’s A Classical Jukebox was first recorded on 19 June 1950 by Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops Orchestra in 1950. It was issued on by RCA Victor on 10-3044 and was coupled with Syncopated Clock.

A later recording by Fiedler and the 'Pops' can be heard on YouTube, here.

It's not British, but...Francis Poulenc Piano Music

This is a rewarding selection of Francis Poulenc’s piano music. The recital begins with the Valse FP17 which was his contribution to the L’Album des Six published in 1919. As will be guessed the other composers were Milhaud, Honegger, Durey, Auric, and Tailleferre. The Valse is exuberant, intriguing, and sheer fun. It nods to the ubiquitous Parisian Boulevardier as well as giving hints of Petruska.

The Suite: Napoli was inspired during a trip to Italy during 1922. He was accompanied by his colleague Darius Milhaud. The opening Barcarolle suggests a boat moored in the Bay of Naples. The usual tranquillity is mocked by edgy harmonies and changes of time signature. The Nocturne also gives the impression of the sea, this time with moonlight. It has a magical effect. The final movement, Caprice italien, is more about gin joints and night clubs, than land or seascapes. Inspired by Chabrier’s Bourrée fantastique, it is a fast, sassy tarantella, concluding with a long cadenza. Chiara Cipelli invests the entire suite with Neapolitan magic and swagger.

The Huit Nocturnes FP56 were composed between 1929 and 1938. This prolonged period of gestation may have led to unevenness in effect. Mostly short, these pieces contain lovely melodies and some delicious pianism. Those that impressed me most were the romantic Bal de jeunes fils which recalls a Parisian ballroom and the Bal fantôme which is a ghostly waltz. The seventh Nocturne, Assez allant (With enough motion) is poised, and played here at a pleasing speed. The entire group is a satisfying exploration of moods, tempos, and keys. I feel that they ought to be played as a group and not excerpted.

Despite being created for younger pianists there is nothing childlike about the six numbers of Villageoises, FP65 (1933). Each movement captures a different mood or scene. They display Poulenc’s ability to capture miscellaneous emotions in a concise and concentrated form. The Suite opens with a vivacious Valse Tyrolienne, followed by a brisk Staccato, and an idyllic Rustique. The next three movements feature a tumultuous Polka, a graceful Petite ronde and a short Coda. The Suite was dedicated to the playwright Jean Giraudoux and the actor Louis Jouvet.

Poulenc’s Trois Novelettes were devised over a prolonged period. The first, in C major was composed in 1927. Written in ternary form, the two sections balance mischief with grace. The second Novelette in B flat minor is really a little scherzo which is witty and rhythmically energetic. The third was finished in 1959. It is based on a melody taken from Manuel de Falla’s El amor brujo. It is thoughtful and a touch melancholic.

The best-known piano work by Poulenc is his Trois Mouvements perpétuels, FP 14a. They were finished in 1918 and were premiered that year in Paris by the Spanish pianist Ricardo Viñes. They were dedicated to the French artist and author Valentine Gross. Poulenc once stated that they represented “a brisk stroll by the Seine.” Certainly, these numbers succeed in conjuring a vivacious Parisian mood. The finale, Alerte, is by far the most dynamic with lots of changes of rhythms and sly nods to Erik Satie. If anything, these Mouvements nod towards Stravinsky. They are played here with no condescension and with considerable spontaneity that balances the influence of the eighteenth century clavecinists with the harmonic spice of the post-World War One era.

The recital concludes with the short, but fascinating Valse-improvisation sur le nom de Bach, FP62. This is characterised by many modulations and an adventurous key structure. It was completed in 1932. Strangely, at the time of writing, it was regarded as “critically unsuccessful.” Bach is reflected in the use of his initials, B-flat, A, C, B-natural to create the theme. It was included in an album Hommage à Bach with contributions by Alfredo Casella, Albert Roussel, Gian Francesco Malipiero and Arthur Honegger.

The liner notes give a decent overview of Poulenc and his piano music, but present little information about each piece. They are printed in English and Italian. There is a short resume of the soloist. Her discography includes a disc of Bruno Bettinelli’s piano works and another of Olivier Messiaen’s Préludes.

The performances reflect Poulenc’s earlier devotion to the “precise, economical, lean and at times witty” style that was a characteristic of ‘Les Six.’ Chiara Cipelli responds vividly to the lyricism, wit, and occasional melancholy of these diverse pieces.

Track Listing:
Francis Poulenc (1899-1963)
Valse for l’Album des Six FP17 (1919)
Napoli, Suite pour piano, FP40 (1922-25)
Huit Nocturnes, FP56 (1929-38)
Villageoises, petites pièces enfantines FP 65 (1933)
Trois Novelettes FP47 (1, 2) FP173 (3) (1927-1928, rev.1939, (1,2) 1959 (3))
Trois Mouvements perpétuels, FP14a (1918, rev.1962)
Valse-improvisation sur le nom de Bach, FP62 (1932)
Chiara Cipelli (piano)
rec. 4-5 April 2023, Classical Recording Studio, Perugia, Italy
Piano Classics PCL10217 [53]
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Cyril Rootham Symphony No.1 in C minor (1932)

Cyril Rootham's (1875-1938) First Symphony was produced in 1932. It is written in four well balanced movements. The Symphony was dedicated "To my old friend H.P.A. with affection" [Hugh Percy Allen]. Arthur Hutchings (Liner Notes SRCD.269) believes that the quintessential Rootham is present especially in the first two movements. "Vigorous” and “genial" are the overriding characteristics of this work. It was first heard at a Royal College of Music Patron's Fund rehearsal on Thursday, 30 March, 1933. The New Symphony Orchestra was conducted by Aylmer Buesst. This performance, according to contemporary reviews, left a lot to be desired. Other works heard that day included Mozart’s Violin Concerto in A major (soloist Bessie Rawlins) and two songs from Wagner’s Wesendonck Lieder, Im Treibhaus and Träume. The soprano was Victoria Schlageter.

The first movement, Adagio-Allegro Ritmico opens with a shimmer on woodwind followed by the main subject. Brass fanfares overlay an urgent message from the strings. Rootham's ability to present a competent woodwind counterpoint is well in evidence as the movement progresses. One of the key features of this composer’s style is his use of brass, both in vigorous contrapuntal writing and in the “chorale” style. Throughout this movement the listener is reminded of elements from Vaughan Williams Wasps Overture and from some passages of the Fourth Symphony. There is a curious point of repose about two-thirds of the way through the movement. A pianissimo roll on the timpani leads to a brass fanfare and marching effects from the side drum. The last chord comes as a slight surprise with a crescendo followed by a diminuendo.

The second movement is underpinned by the tread of a march, Adagio molto (alla marcia). Whether it is pizzicato strings or timpani the regular beat is never far away. On occasion the hearer supplies it for themselves when not stated on one or more instruments. There are two unexpected brass fanfares in this slow movement, interrupting, yet not destroying, the spirit of the long romantic, if slightly unsettling, theme. Once again, the use of a woodwind 'descant' against the strings is in evidence.

Next, is a scherzo, Allegro molto, - yet with features which make this movement quite unique. It opens with a characteristic 'dancing theme' owing much to the English folk-song school. It comes complete with a pizzicato string underpinning. This movement has a greater use of percussion – with xylophone and glockenspiel included. The formal construction involves a slowing down of the pace every so often. The dance theme is abandoned for a kind of romantic, Baxian, musing on strings. It is as if the composer is suffering quite distinctive mood swings - more than one would expect in a scherzo. The listener is conscious of an effective use of brass - almost vocal in its part-writing. The woodwind is used to reiterate the 'dance' tune and some quite involved counterpoint is found in the closing pages. The movement ends quietly.

The Symphony ends with an Allegro con spirito which, as Hutchings describes in his article on Rootham’s music, (Musical Times, January 1938, p.17-22), is a fine piece of “folk-songy or school songy” writing. Brass fanfares introduce the movement which has 'film music' overtones in places. The folksong-like 'big tune' is introduced on strings. The presence of modalism and harmonic parallelism is not far away. There are changes of moods - oboe melodies and echoes on the flutes. Then, a moment of repose followed by a horn theme accompanied by strings and the harp. One is reminded of the last theme of the first movement of the later 6th Symphony of Ralph Vaughan William's. Progress becomes increasingly dissonant, and the brass and snare drum part tend to increase the intensity. Once again, we are presented with the 'Celtic Twilight' on the strings: a "well-wooded backwater" of Rootham’s mind. The 'happy' tune re-emerges complete with counter subjects. The pace slows down slightly, and brass figurations lead to a quiet and certainly not a triumphant finish.

Altogether a fascinating work: certainly, better than many contemporary efforts. Not a major, world-shattering symphony in the sense of Elgar's 2nd or RVW's 4th but one which would raise the rafters were it performed at a BBC Promenade Concert.

The Symphony was given its first broadcast performance on the BBC Home Service on 30 October 1936: Cyril Rootham conducted the BBC Symphony Orchestra.

Vernon Handley and the London Philharmonic Orchestra recorded the Symphony during January 1979. It was released by Lyrita Records (SRCS.103) coupled with The Birds of Rhiannon by Joseph Holbrooke. It was subsequently reissued on CD, SRCD. 269 in 2007.

The Lyrita recording can be heard on YouTube, here.

Henryk Gorecki: Symphony No.2 (1972)

The Symphony No. 2 by Henryk Gorecki (1933-2010) is a major work; of that there can be no doubt whatsoever. The background to the composition was a commission from the Kosciuszko Foundation in New York to produce a piece of music to celebrate the half millennium of the great Polish astronomer Mikolaj Kopernik (1473-1543) - better known to the world as Copernicus.

What resulted was a work that touched the heavens but is also deeply rooted on earth. Gorecki uses a whole range of material to produce what can only be regarded as a timeless masterpiece.

What was Copernicus' achievement? Quite simply he was the first person (in modern times) to suggest that the world went round the sun. It is as simple as that. But with this straightforward discovery he turned the entire scientific and theological system upside down. It was the end of an era. Humankind was no longer the centre of the universe. Gorecki himself wrote, '…we became nothing. Hence the duality of the two-movement symphony; first the whole mechanism, let us say, of the world, followed by contemplation.' And that is exactly what the piece achieves.

The first movement opens with great clusters of sound; dense, mechanical, and violent. It seems to describe the mechanical lumbering of the universe as it churns on its journey through time and space. There is a pause from this fearsome construction. A gentler version of this material gives the listener a respite from the opening pages. There are digressions; many with unusual sonorities, before the return of the first theme complete with full choir.

The second movement makes use of soprano and baritone. Here the effect can at times be almost operatic. They sing long phrases at two octaves apart. But before this great song the baritone struggles to realise what the importance of the Copernican revolution actually is. Here there are intimations of the later 3rd symphony. The second movement closes with what I think is the finest ending of almost any symphony. Time itself is made to stand still. One is reminded of the effect of certain pieces by Messiaen and the later school of minimalists. Yet there is a great beauty in these closing pages. Simple yet exceedingly complex. There is no doubt in my mind that the Symphony ends on an optimistic note. In spite of the great 'world shattering' discovery of Copernicus, God is still the God 'who created the heavens and the earth ... the sun to rule by day, the moon and stars to rule by night'. So, in some respects nothing has changed.

Antoni Wit and his forces handle this symphony admirably. The sound scheme created by Gorecki straddles two worlds: Polish experimentalists such as Penderecki and Lutoslawski and the new 'accessible' style first really apparent in Gorecki’s In Olden Style (1962). The soprano is radiant, and the baritone infuses the music with a sense of wonderment and discovery.

I was talking to a musical friend of mine the other day about this review and she asked me if this Symphony would become as famous as the 3rd that was widely played on Classic FM. That one had even reached 'number one' in the classical 'top ten'. I am not sure. I somehow doubt it. The media caravan has probably moved on. However, I am more at home with this present symphony. I feel that at the end of the day, it will be the 2nd Symphony that is regarded as the defining masterpiece of Gorecki's career.

With its mix of tension, horror, and optimism, it is an appropriate piece to commemorate the 80^th Anniversary of the D-Day landings on 6 June 1944.

Listen to the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra, Polish Radio Choir and Silesian Philharmonic Choir conducted by Antoni Wit with Andrzej Dobber, baritone and Zofia Kilanowicz, on YouTube, here. It was issued on Naxos 8.555375.

Introducing Cyril Rootham...

Cyril Bradley Rootham is one of numerous English composers who are now largely forgotten. Only the diminishing number of people who heard performances of his music before the Second World War will recall how distinctive this prolific musician was. Much of his time was spent in running the Cambridge University Musical Society (C.U.M.S.) often to the detriment of performances of his own works. Other commitments found him deeply involved with educational and other practical music making activities. He was organist at St John’s College, Cambridge for many years. In fact, overstrain may have been one of the causes of a stroke which led to an early death at sixty-two, at a time when his creative powers were at their highest. Arthur Hutchings (Musical Times, January 1938, p.17) prophesied a remarkable future for Cyril Rootham and was able to “know him first as a composer, to be compared without prejudice amongst other composers.” Despite half a dozen commercial recordings and a few broadcast performances over the last near 86 years this has not happened. At a time when a significant amount British music written in the 20th century has been re-evaluated, the time for re-discovering Rootham’s catalogue is urgent.

Brief Biography of Cyril Rootham:

• Born on 5 October 1875, in Redland, Bristol, Rootham was the son of Daniel Wilberforce Rootham, a renowned singing teacher and director of the Bristol Madrigal Society.
• Schooled at Bristol Grammar School and Clifton College.
• Initially studied classics at St John’s College, Cambridge, but later pursued music, completing a second bachelor’s degree in the field.
• Continued his education at the Royal College of Music, studying under notable teachers Charles Villiers Stanford and Walter Parratt.
• Held the position of organist at Christ Church, Hampstead, followed by a brief stint at St. Asaph Cathedral in Wales.
• Was as the organist at St John’s College, Cambridge, for most of his career.
• Rootham’s leadership of the C.U.M.S. left a lasting impact on English music.
• In 1930, Rootham organised the first Cambridge Festival of British Music.
• Revived neglected music by Handel, Mozart, and Purcell.
• Introduced modern compositions by Zoltán Kodály, Arthur Honegger, and Ildebrando Pizzetti.
• Cyril Rootham died in Cambridge on 18 March 1938.

Rootham’s Music:

Critics regard his main contribution as choral music both with and without orchestra. Yet this is only a small portion of the Rootham catalogue. He produced a major opera, unheard in our generation, The Two Sisters.

A String Quintet in D was given in 1909. Three String Quartets followed. They are marked by qualities of "refined scholarship & charm." Rootham’s best known chamber piece is the Septet. The wonderfully lyrical Violin Sonata was recorded by Dutton Epoch (CDLX 7219) to positive reviews.

There are two symphonies. The first, completed in 1932 and the second shortly before his death in 1938. I will discuss No.1 in a later post. The Second Symphony has a curious history. It was sketched out during his last illness. He required assistance in these sketches from friends and pupils. It was left to Patrick Hadley to finish and orchestrate it. The Symphony was given its first hearing by the BBC on St Patrick's Day 1939. The broadcast coming from the Maida Vale Studios. Henry Colles (Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 1954) notes that it bears the signs of a serious physical and spiritual struggle, it is, he says, "the work of a man facing tragedy with a high courage and faith.”

Much of his choral music remain to be re-discovered. Especially so is the massive Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity. This was produced at Cambridge in 1930 and is set for solo voices, chorus, and full orchestra. Henry Colles, writing in the 1954 Groves says, "[Rootham] devoted the closest thought to the setting of the poem and to devising a musical form worthy of its massive proportions. The result was a noble work…"

Rootham did not join any of the contemporary competing 'schools' of composition. Although there are often elements of the folk-song revival and the Celtic Twilight in his music, he was not a person to be categorised. Typically, he avoids the cow-and-gate clichés which were criticised by Constant Lambert in his book, Music Ho!

Ten Selected Works:

1. All have been issued on vinyl/CD/streaming and many are available on YouTube.
2. The Stolen Child, op.38 for choir and orchestra (1911-12)
3. For the Fallen, op.51 for chorus & orchestra (1915)
4. Miniature Suite, op.61 for orchestra/string quartet & piano (1921)
5. Suite in Three Movements, op.64 for flute and piano (1921)
6. Sonata in G minor, op.75 for violin & piano (1925)
7. Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity, op.81 for soli, chorus, semi-chorus, and orchestra (1928)
8. Psalm of Adonis, op.84 for orchestra (1931)
9. Symphony No.1 in C minor, op.86 (1932)
10. City in the West, op.93 for chorus, string orchestra & harp (1936)
11. Symphony No.2 in D major, op.97 (1938)

Bibliography:

At the time of writing this post there is no definitive biography or study of Cyril Rootham. Interested listeners must try and piece together information from a variety of disconnected sources.

The earliest study would appear to be C.M. Crabtree’s 'Introduction to Contemporary Musicians, xxi: Cyril Bradley Rootham' in the Music Bulletin, vi (1924, p.268-73). Fourteen years later, A.J.B. Hutchings drafted an important essay for the Musical Times (January 1938, p.17-22). It was published shortly before his death. Hutchings provides a readable overview, illustrated with musical examples. Forty-seven years were to pass before Kenneth Shenton’s essay was published in the British Music Society’s Journal (vii, 1985, p.30-37). This was a wide-ranging discussion of Rootham’s life and achievement.

In 1996, Jürgen Schaarwächter contributed a detailed study of ‘Cyril Bradley Rootham', to the British Music Society Newsletter (no.71 1996, p.257-60). This pulled together a number of sources including those mentioned above. It remains the best introduction to the composer’s life and work. The same author also gave a good introduction to Rootham’s two symphonies in his two-volume Two Centuries of British Symphonism from the Beginnings to 1945, (Georg Olms Verlag, 2015). There are the usual entries in several editions of Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians, the British Music Society’s Composer Profiles and Wikipedia.

One final resource is the Cyril Rootham Website, here. The reader will find considerable information, as well as anecdotes, photographs, recordings, and scores. It does not appear to have been updated since 2023.

If you can only hear one CD…

It is possible to evaluate five pieces because of the valuable Sinfonia Chorus BBC Northern Singers/Northern Sinfonia of England/Richard Hickox recording made in the early nineteen-eighties and issued on EMI Digital EL 27 0605 1 in 1987. It was reissued on CD (EMI British Composers 505923-2) in 2007.

Commentators agree that Rootham's version of For the Fallen, which preceded Elgar's, is just as impressive as the elder master’s and may even score higher marks for subtlety if not passion. The Stolen Child penned in 1911 to words by W.B. Yeats is a gem. Although influenced by modalism and the Celtic-Twilight it is effective and beautifully written and provides an atmospheric setting of the words. One of the most haunting musical descriptions of a city is given in his choral piece - City in the West. This is dedicated to the organist and choirmaster Arthur Warrell who was a Bristolian. The words are from a text by Rootham's son, Jasper. It certainly deserves to be placed with Vaughan Williams' London Symphony and Dyson's In Honour of the City as an Evocation of a city. Equally fascinating is the orchestral Psalm of Adonis. Rob Barnett (MusicWeb International, December 2007) noted that this “lambently-bathed purely orchestral…Avian sounds mingle and enliven this warm evocation which may also passingly recall Delius and Finzi.” Also included on this “sampler” is Rootham’s delightful small piano concerto, the Miniature Suite. The soloist is Alan Fearon.

If you can only listen to one work…

This must be the Symphony No.1 in C minor, completed in 1932. If one considers the quality of the themes, the distinctive orchestration and the critical balance between modernity and romanticism, IS one of the greatest of the unsung symphonies of the 1930s. To be sure, it is easy to pick up allusions to Arthur Bliss’s Colour Symphony (1921-22) in this present work. Rob Barnett, in his review on MusicWeb International (January 2009), insists that Rootham is responding to "matters as weighty and gripping" as Bliss had. He also contrasts moments in this Symphony with Holst, Vaughan Williams, and E.J. Moeran. Perhaps Arnold Bax is an inspiration too? I do not for one moment imagine that Rootham was parodying or copying anyone – it is just that certain moods and styles were in the air. Yet, even a superficial hearing reveals one that ought to be regarded as one of the big hitters of the mid-century group of symphonists. More about this Symphony in a subsequent post.

Photo "Reproduced by permission of the Cyril Rootham website at www.rootham.org"