Bliss’s recording of A Colour Symphony and the Introduction and Allegro were reissued on the popular Ace of Clubs label (ACL 239) during 1964. The sleeve photo is of Gloucester Cathedral and the rear cover replicates the original programme notes.
Edward Greenfield gave a detailed appraisal in The Gramophone (December 1964, p.293). His overview deserves to be quoted in full: “[A] Colour Symphony was the work that first gave Bliss an international reputation in his early thirties. In this country at least it also gave him the reputation of being an enfant terrible, something so absurd in retrospect [that] one can only attribute it to the fact that the first performance was at the 1922 Three Choirs Festival and that the superannuated organists in Gloucester Cathedral must have bristled with alarm at even the most fetching of Bliss's dissonances. For this is very much the work of a young Elgarian who knew his Debussy and who quite honestly did not seem to trouble overmuch about anything after that. Comparatively few hints of Stravinsky's influence, for example, let alone of Schoenberg or Bartók.”
It seems that Greenfield was most impressed by the Finale, which “after opening on a dauntingly angular fugue [it] quickly resolves itself into something quite close to an Elgar march, and the added-note dissonances of the climax need not worry anyone who has gloried in [Rimsky Korsakov’s] The Golden Cockerel. As for the final multiple chord which takes the place of a conventional tonic (could that conceivably have been what worried the organists?), it now sounds like an old-hat jazz ending of the kind Stravinsky aped in the Symphony in Three Movements.”
It is disingenuous for Greenfield to suggest that lack of memorability hindered the Symphony becoming as popular as Holst’s The Planets. Both are characterized by imagination and ‘colourful’ orchestration. Sadly, this critic also considers that the Introduction and Allegro “is another really skillful composition, again failing to achieve the highest distinction merely through comparative lack of memorability in the material.”
Edward Greenfield considered that Bliss’s conducting is “wonderfully convincing” and that this was enhanced by “the recording [that] still sounds extremely well.”
As noted above, in 1971, Decca released A Colour Symphony on their popular Eclipse label (ECS 625). It was coupled with Anthony Collin’s magisterial performance of Edward Elgar’s Falstaff Symphonic Study op. 68. Both works had been ‘re-mastered’ in ‘electronic stereo,’ which was really an attempt at making the old monaural recordings sound better by adding reverberation and ‘tinkering’ with frequency levels. Some commentators felt that the originals were ruined by this ‘Electronically Reprocessed Stereo.’
Trevor Harvey commenting in The Gramophone (July 1971, p.232), considered that the “most valuable contribution of this disc is the reissue of Bliss’s very fine Colour Symphony.” Rashly, but maybe wisely, he recommends that the listener “Take no notice of the colours each movement is headed with and just enjoy it as a symphony.” He concludes his review by stating that this is “a finely original work, full of vitality and beauty…The performance is authoritative, obviously: while the sound is excellent.” As for Elgar’s Falstaff, Harvey considered that Anthony Collins “judges his performance very well indeed, and I found myself as enthralled as ever by Elgar’s masterpiece.”
There was a lowering picture of Great Mell Fell in Cumberland on the record cover. This, like many photographs on Decca Eclipse sleeves was a National Trust property.
Note that the Introduction and Allegro was included on the fourth volume of Decca Eclipse’s Festival of English Music, ECS 649 (1972) and, later ECS 783 (1976), where it was coupled with Bliss’s Violin Concerto and Theme and Cadenza.
Since the final vinyl issue, there have been several reissues of Bliss conducting his Colour Symphony on CD. Twenty-four years later, Dutton Laboratories released Bliss conducts Bliss (CDLXT 2501), remastered by Michael J Dutton. It also featured Baraza from the film Men of Two Worlds, the Introduction and Allegro, the Things to Come Suite recorded by the composer in 1957, as well as some extracts from that film score dating from 1935. Lionel Salter, who appraised the original LP, now writing for The Gramophone (August 1995, p.134) considered that Bliss’s recording was “thrusting and vigorous, dramatic and romantic, [but] it tends at times to outgrow its strength, as it were; but the tension of the scherzo and the finale's double-fugue… point forward to his maturity.” He felt that the Introduction and Allegro was “leaner and more sinewy but just as vigorous” as A Colour Symphony. Finally, Salter considered that the “remastering of the original records is nothing short of amazing” sounding as “if it had been made yesterday.”
In 2013 both works were packaged on the two-CD compilation of Bliss’s music (Vocalion, 2CDBO 9818). This also contained The Beatitudes, the Pastoral: Lie Strewn the White Flocks and the rarely heard March: The Phoenix (In Honour of France).
Heritage Records had one more go at repristinating A Colour Symphony and the Introduction and Allegro. This time it was also coupled with the undoubted, but forgotten, masterwork, Music for Strings. (HTGCD 221, 2011). John Whitmore (MusicWeb International 13 October 2013), states that “this is a gripping, tuneful and uplifting symphony containing some warm hearted and melancholic moments along with flashes of youthful exuberance. The performance given here by the LSO is still the best available on disc and the sound, despite being a transfer from a mono LP, is perfectly enjoyable. This is classic early Decca.” Turning to the Introduction and Allegro, Whitmore states that “I’ve seen this described in some of our esteemed music guides as being a professionally written but unmemorable work. I beg to differ. It’s a cracking piece, bristling with good ideas, pages of elegiac repose and some tremendously exciting climaxes. The music never gets bogged down or threatens to outstay its welcome. It’s always moving forward, and the levels of invention and craftsmanship are high…”
Finally, A Colour Symphony and the Introduction and Allegro were included in the massive 53-disc boxed set, Decca Sound: The Mono Years 1944-1956 (478 7946). The 1955 recording of both pieces are also listed in the Naxos catalogue (9.80004): they are coupled with Paul Hindemith’s Symphony, "Mathis der Maler".
For reference, five other important recordings of Arthur Bliss’s Colour Symphony have been made since 1955. These are the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra/Charles Groves (HMV ASD 3416, 1977), the Ulster Orchestra/Vernon Handley (Chandos ABRD 1213, 1987), the BBC Welsh Symphony Orchestra/Barry Wordsworth (Nimbus NI 5294, 1991), the English Northern Philharmonia/David Lloyd-Jones (Naxos 8.553460, 1996) and finally the BBC National Orchestra of Wales/Richard Hickox (Chandos CHAN 10380, 2006).
Concluded
My next post will be a review of the latest repristination of Bliss's A Colour Symphony, on the Pristine Audio label. This has been released after the original essay was published.
With thanks to the The Arthur Bliss Society Journal where this essay was first published.
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