British Piano Concertos Volume 3 on Lyrita

Philip Cannon was a British composer noted for his choral and orchestral music. Born in Paris, he studied under Ralph Vaughan Williams and Gordon Jacob at the Royal College of Music as well as with Paul Hindemith. His notable works include Lord of Light and the Te Deum, dedicated to Queen Elizabeth II to mark the 500th anniversary of St George’s Chapel, Windsor. He also wrote operas, symphonies, vocal and keyboard music.

Cannon’s Concertino for piano and strings (1951) was completed when he was only 22 years old. This classically balanced work is remarkable for a “prentice” effort. The opening movement, Allegro molto vivace, is predicated on a “crisply rhythmic” theme, balanced by a songlike melody introduced by the strings. This movement is full of vitality. The Andante tranquillo has a Gerald Finzi-like mood about it. The liner notes suggest Poulenc as a model. It is quite lovely. The finale, Presto leggiero, balances lively “brittle discords,” jazzy passages and a thoughtful episode that is smooth and laid back. The concertino concludes with a rumbustious coda.

Most listeners will regard John Addison as a composer of film music. Certainly, he produced many movie scores between 1951 and 1985. These include such famous examples as A Bridge too Far, Reach for the Sky and The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner. Equally competent were his scores for TV, including Charles and Diana: A Royal Love Story and Dead Man’s Folly. Less well known are his contributions to the concert hall. Until recently, there were only a handful of these pieces available on record/disc. These included the Divertimento op. 9 for 2 trumpets, horn & trombone, the Concerto for trumpet, strings and percussion, the Concertino for bassoon and orchestra and the wonderful Carte Blanche ballet suite.

In 2022, Lyrita issued the first of its series of British Piano Concertos. These were to feature “overlooked” essays that were being given their “first recordings.” John Addison has been represented by his Wellington Suite in the first release (SRCD.407) and in the second volume, his Variations for piano and orchestra (SRCD.416). These were well received by reviewers. This present disc includes two more of Addison’s concerted works.

The Concertino for piano and orchestra was finished in 1958 and was first heard at the following year’s Festival of School Music. The soloist was the young pianist, Philip Jenkins. It is important to note that there is nothing ‘elementary’ about this piece which has an involved solo part and a demanding orchestral accompaniment. Addison remarked that it was a “real concerto in the full sense of the word.”

The opening bars are “raucous” but soon a beguiling melody emerges. Here and there are hints of Malcolm Arnold. The aggressive passages reassert themselves before the movement closes casually. The second movement, Andante grazioso is a little set of variations, based on a cheerful tune of genuine 1950s light music vintage. It is engaged with by the piano with one or two brassy interruptions. The booklet explains that the finale, Vivace, explores three subjects: a self-possessed idea, a whimsical strain on the piano and a carousel-like dance. These themes are surveyed in short order before the Concertino concludes in jazzy mood.

The longest work on this disc is Francis Chagrin’s Concerto for pianoforte and orchestra. Originally composed in 1943, this piece underwent revisions in 1969 and again shortly before the composer's death, in 1971.

The opening Risoluto presents two widely contrasting ideas – a martial, “trudging” theme and a relaxed second subject. This battle of ideas continues to the end of the movement. There are some magical moments in the development that contradict the typically acerbic mood of the movement. The Lento, molto tranquillo is more introverted, even elegiac. There is much beauty in these pages which eventually works up to an intense climax. The main theme of the finale is “Bolero-like.” This Spanish dance haunts the entire movement, before the concerto closes on a “scrunchy, dissonant” final chord. The liner notes are correct in describing this concerto as "richly eclectic, wide ranging” and capturing “the various sides of the composer’s creative personality.” Hopefully, more of Chagrin’s catalogue will be recorded to compliment the spartan quantity currently available on disc.

Incidentally, the booklet indicates that Chagrin died in 1973. Reference works and Ancestry state that it was 1972 when he passed away. 

The liner notes are correct in stating that in Conversation Piece, John Addison “exploits to the full his talent to amuse and divert.” It has been quite some time since I met such a diverse composition. Although written as a single movement, it is divided into five sections, offering a remarkable blend of styles that may leave the listener bewildered. Opening with a nod to the then prevalent serialism, it devolves into a Gershwin-like waltz and then a wistful march tune, and a humorous little scherzo. Fauré may be the inspiration for the Adagio with its long phrases and brooding mood. It concludes with a chipper finale with hints of Malcolm Arnold, or is it Gershwin again, or is it...? Somehow all this diversity produces a satisfying whole.

Conversation Piece was devised for the 1958 BBC’s Light Music Festival. As such, it is pleasantly tongue in cheek and seems to cock a snoot at certain po-faced concert goers.

British pianist Simon Callaghan is known for his achievement as a soloist, chamber musician, and recording artist. He has performed at top venues globally. With a varied repertoire, he actively promotes classical music through his performances and recordings.

All four “concertos” are performed here with enthusiasm, fluid technical expertise, and obvious enjoyment. Callaghan is admirably supported by the BBC National Orchestra of Wales under William Boughton

It is redundant to state that the essay length liner notes by Paul Conway are a masterclass in presentation. All the information concerning the composers and the pieces is present and correct. That said, they do not give information about the performers.

Simon Callaghan has clearly found a well-deserved niche for himself in the exploration of rarities of British piano music. This disc is an important addition for all enthusiasts of this genre.

Track Listing:
Philip Cannon (1929-2016)
Concertino for piano and strings (1951)
John Addison (1920-98)
Concertino for piano and orchestra (1958)
Francis Chagrin (1905-72)
Concerto for pianoforte and orchestra (1943, rev. 1969)
John Addison
Conversation Piece (1958)
Simon Callaghan (piano), BBC National Orchestra of Wales/William Boughton
rec. 9-11 October 2023, Hoddinott Hall, Cardiff, Wales
Lyrita SRCD.444 

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

A Brief Introduction to Gerald Finzi

Gerald Raphael Finzi was born into a fairly prosperous family on 14th July 1901. His father was a successful London shipbroker. There were four other brothers and sisters. He was descended from Italian Jewish ancestry and his parents were, at that time practising Orthodox Jews. The composer never really acknowledged this religious heritage. In fact he wrote a number of distinctively Christian works including fine setting of the Magnificat.

Finzi was educated privately. However during the First World War his mother moved the family to Yorkshire. There Finzi studied with the young composer Ernest Farrar. After Farrar had received his call up papers, Finzi completed the first part of his musical education with the great organist at York Minster-Edward Bairstow.

It was during his early life that Finzi first became aware of the transience of life- one of the major themes of his music. In the space of a few years his father and three brothers died. Ernest Farrar was killed on the Western Front. This sudden realisation of the harshness of the world recommended the poetry of Thomas Traherne - the great Platonist poet who dwelt on the innocence of the soul of a child and of course William Wordsworth's Intimations of Immortality.

In 1922 he moved to the Cotswolds and lived at the village of Painswick. This was part of the landscape beloved by Elgar, Howells, Gurney and Ralph Vaughan Williams. It was to have a profound effect on his life and music.

The works of this early period include the withdrawn work - By Footpath and Style, a somewhat neoclassical Violin Concerto, and the Severn Rhapsody. He also worked on a Requiem da Camera that was dedicated to his deceased composition teacher. This last work was only heard in its complete form in 1990.

In 1926 he was advised by the conductor Adrian Boult to move to London and take counterpoint lessons with R.O Morris. It would also put Finzi in the centre of musical activities. He taught for a period in the Royal Academy of Music. He became friends with many of the leading composers of the day - including Edmund Rubbra, Gustav Holst, Arthur Bliss and Ralph Vaughan Williams. It was during this period that Finzi began to compose some of his best song cycles.

In 1933 Gerald met Joyce Black at Lye Green in Sussex. He was on a working holiday and was staying in a cottage belonging to a certain Mrs. Black. There were two beautiful daughters. The elder of the two was interested in the arts and it was inevitable that she was attracted to the thirty-two year old composer.

Gerald and Joy Finzi built a lovely home at Ashmansworth on the Berkshire Hills overlooking a large stretch of typically English countryside towards Winchester. This was to be the family home until the composer's death. One of the interests the composer had was the cultivation of apples. He introduced many rare species into his orchard. It is said that he saved a number of them from extinction.

There was a period in the late 1930s and early 1940s when Finzi wrote virtually all his chamber music. This is a relatively unknown, yet extremely interesting part of his catalogue. Here are different sonorities than listeners had come to expect after hearing the earlier orchestral works. The String Trio is actually quite a bleak piece with none of the warmth of the Romance for Strings.

There was the literary side to Finzi's life. He loved much of the heritage of English literature; especially Thomas Hardy, Thomas Traherne and William Wordsworth. These interests are well represented in his settings for choir and for song. Certainly more than half of his songs are to words by Hardy. However he showed a liking for Robert Bridges and Edmund Blunden. The great choral works In Terra Pax and For St Cecilia are settings of words by these two great English poets.

He amassed a huge Library of precious books over his lifetime. It covered many topics including Poetry, Philosophy and Prose. On his death it was bequeathed to Reading University Library.

He was not like a number of composers who cannot see any good music apart from their own. He did much to put Charles Hubert Hastings Parry’s manuscripts into some semblance of order. A major project embarked upon by Gerald and his wife Joy was the editing of the poetic works by Ivor Gurney. They were the driving force behind the Music & Letters ‘Gurney’ special issue in 1938. He expedited the publication of that composer’s song settings. Perhaps the curious thing is that Gerald Finzi never actually met Gurney. Yet when one listens to the works of both composers there is quite definitely a stylistic relationship. Ivor Gurney could have had no better executor of his artistic estate.

Another of Finzi’s interests was the editing of early music. He published a number of works by John Stanley, Charles Wesley and R. Mudge. He founded the Newbury String Players who were able to play many of his realisations from the 17th century.

After the Second World War Finzi wrote some of his most adventurous orchestral works. The ever-popular Clarinet Concerto of 1948/9 and the Grand Fantasia and Toccata for piano and orchestra based on earlier sketches for a piano concerto.

The last major work was the Cello concerto, in which Finzi was pushing the barriers- not only was it considerably longer than anything he had previously written (apart from the Intimations) it was more passionate and intense. There were new harmonies and part writing here.

Gerald Finzi was diagnosed as having Hodgkinson's Disease in 1951. In 1956 he and Ralph Vaughan Williams went on a walking trip up Chosen Hill in Gloucester. They visited the local sexton’s cottage for tea. Unfortunately there were children with chickenpox in the house. Finzi contracted the disease. Due to his weakened state it caused severe brain inflammation. He died on 27th September 1956, aged 55 years. Strangely this was the very day after the first performance of his Cello Concerto.

It is difficult to sum up Finzi’s achievement in a few words. He seems to have been at his best writing small-scale works. However, his two masterpieces are in fact his two longest. He had no problem in developing ideas.

His general musical style is elegiac. His music is frankly sad and autumnal. There is little that is light hearted or joyous. He is not afraid to write in a basically tonal style. However, in later works there is a considerable use of midland sometimes even harsh dissonance – especially in the Cello Concerto.

But perhaps his greatest legacy is his ability to set words to music. Few composers have equalled his achievement in any century. It is perhaps his songs that remain the most perfect of his creations.

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this was first published. 

It's not British, but...Maurice Ravel's Piano Music on Danacord Vol.2

This is the second of the three volume edition of the complete solo piano music of French composer Maurice Ravel performed by Oleg Marshev. I include it  here as part of the Ravel 150 celebrations. 

Although I have written the track listings above, as reproduced in the liner notes, there is a slight problem with nomenclature. In 1912, Maurice Ravel finished his massive balletic Daphne and Chloé, a “symphonie chorégraphique,” for orchestra and wordless chorus. It was premiered in Paris on 8 June 1912 by Diaghilev’s Russian Ballet. At around the same time, Ravel extracted material to make two orchestral suites: Fragments symphoniques de ‘Daphnis et Chloé’ I (Nocturne, Interlude and Danse guerrière), 1911, commonly called Suite No. 1 and Fragments symphoniques de ‘Daphnis et Chloé’ II (Lever du jour, Pantomime and Danse générale), 1913, or Suite No. 2. These remain popular to this day.

What Oleg Marshev has recorded here is, in fact, a piano suite assembled by Ravel in 1913, from the piano reduction score of the entire ballet. The full title is Daphnis et Chloe: Fragments symphoniques and was published by Durand and Co. in 1912. It consists of three movements, Danse de Daphnis, Nocturne, Interlude and Danse guerrière, and the finale, Scène de Daphnis et Chloé. I pulled the score to follow the performance, and apart from a few embellishments, Marshev plays it precisely, giving a satisfying and attractive account. Of course, there could be another edition of this transcription around that I was unable to locate. There are some amazing Ravelian sonorities in these pages that display both technical wizardry and a deeper classical reticence. It is an important addition to the catalogue.

Some four years separate Ravel’s impressionistic Jeux d’eau (1901) from his Sonatine (1903-05). The two works could not be more different. James Gibb (Keyboard Music, ed. Denis Mathews, Pelican,1972) has suggested that this latter piece “turned away from purely sensuous washes of sound and rediscovered economic textures and the stricter shapes of sonata form.” That said, the Sonatine is no simple exercise in neo-classicism. The opening Modéré is romantic, the Minuet is full of exquisite charm, and the last movement, a toccata, displays “sensual energy” and “nostalgic sighs.” Marshev infuses his playing with passion in the opening movement, warmth in the second and dazzling brilliancy in the technical complexities of the finale.

The year 1909 was fallow for Ravel. The only work from around this time is the Menuet sur le nom d’Haydn, written to commemorate the centenary of the elder composer’s death. The “theme” is based on a translation into musical pitches of the name Haydn – B-A-D-D-G – which requires a little alphabetical manipulation. This motto theme appears 11 times, heard in retrograde and inversion. Typically, a wistful and unassuming number, it is a little unbalanced between the simplicity of the opening measures and the “more involved and overladen” second page.

Ravel’s piano masterpiece, the suite Gaspard de la Nuit was first performed in Paris, on 9 January 1909 by Ricardo Viñes. This cruel and terrible work was inspired by the prose-poems of Aloysius Bertrand. Wikipedia explains that the word Gaspard is derived from the Persian and implies "the man in charge of the royal treasures". So by implication he is the guardian of the things of the night, the very Devil himself...

The opening movement, Ondine, is justifiably the most popular, with its evocation of the watery domain of this beautiful siren, drawing men to their inevitable doom. The second, Le Gibet, is a disturbing portrait of the gallows. Scarbo, the finale, represents a scary, diabolic creature conjured up from the deepest recesses of the mind.

Any performance must reflect the callous seductiveness of Ondine, the hopeless tread of the very static march to the scaffold, with its insistent pedal note and finally, the sheer malevolent-ness of the creature conjured up in the final movement. The listener ought to be unsettled and even scared by this work. I believe that Marshev does invest Gaspard de la Nuit with sufficient cruelty and fear to make this an ideal performance.

Sadly, no details (only an oblique reference) in the liner notes are given about the two fugues. I managed to find out that the Fugue in E flat major was probably penned in 1900 and is based on a subject by the French composer, organist and music teacher, Theodore Dubois. The Fugue in D major was written for that year’s Prix de Rome. Both are classically balanced, and although the listener would not guess the composer with an innocent ear, they are anything but pedantic in their impact. I understand that Oleg Marshev has realised the original four stave scores for pianoforte.

Typically, the booklet notes are helpful and of interest. I noted the omission of a commentary on the Fugues above. It would have helped if the dates of each piece were given in the track listing. For Gaspard de la Nuit it is not provided in the booklet text.

I do wish that Danacord could have featured a more fetching cover photograph for this superb recording project: the sinister portrait of Marshev does not do justice to either the repertoire or to the performance. I have not used it in this post.

This second volume is of great interest to all Ravelians. My big discovery here was the many faceted Daphne et Chloe: Fragments symphoniques. Splendid performances of Gaspard de la Nuit and the Sonatine make this an exciting and rewarding disc. 

Track Listing:
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Danse gracieuse et légère de Daphnis (1909-12)
Fragments Symphoniques (1909-12)
Scène de Daphnis et Chloé (1909-12)
Sonatine (1903-05)
Menuet sur le nom d’Haydn (1910)
Gaspard de la nuit (1908)
Fugue in E flat major (1900)
Fugue in D major (1900)
Oleg Marshev (piano)
rec. September 2022, Cultural Institute, Milan, Italy
DANACORD DACOCD 904
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Percy Grainger: Ramble on the Love Duet from Rosenkavalier

I am not a huge fan of opera. However, one of my favourites from my teenage years was Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier. I first heard it in the magnificent 1956 recording made by Herbert von Karajan and the Philharmonia Orchestra, with the legendary Elisabeth Schwarzkopf as the Marschallin and Christa Ludwig singing Octavian. It was originally issued on the Columbia label in 1956 and had been subsequently remastered and reissued on several media..

The opera, composed between 1909 and 1910, is set in 18th-century Vienna and follows a poignant, humorous tale of love and change. The Marschallin, a noblewoman, realizes her young lover Octavian will eventually leave her as time passes. Octavian becomes embroiled in a love triangle when sent to deliver a silver rose to Sophie, the fiancée of the crude Baron Ochs. Octavian and Sophie fall in love, leading to comedic and heartfelt moments. Ultimately, the Marschallin steps aside gracefully, allowing the young couple to unite, reflecting on love's fleeting nature and the bittersweet passage of time. It is a richly human, waltz-laden masterpiece.

Percy Grainger’s relationship with his mother, Rose, was deeply significant, and her suicide on 30 April 1922 had a profound impact on him. His Ramble on the Last Love-Duet from Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier, begun prior to her death, was completed in White Plains, Westchester County, New York on 20 December 1927. It was dedicated to his mother’s memory. The title subtly incorporates her name, reflecting her importance and paralleling the opera’s theme of separation. By 1926, Grainger’s emotional life had revived with his meeting of Swedish artist Ella Viola Ström, whom he married in 1928.

A great admirer of Richard Strauss, whom he considered a genius, Grainger met the composer several times, and Strauss conducted Grainger’s works in Germany on multiple occasions. Ramble on the Last Love-Duet, described as Grainger’s most elaborate piano paraphrase, reflects the lush, evocative sound world of Strauss. Known for its meticulous notation and masterful use of the sostenuto pedal, it requires pianists to follow Grainger’s detailed instructions to faithfully interpret this virtuosic masterpiece. It is notable example of Grainger’s skill as a composer-transcriber - pianist and his ability to blend technical brilliance with deep emotion.

Listen to Percy Grainger’s Ramble on the Love Duet from Rosenkavalier played by Marc-André Hamelin on YouTube, here. It the video comes complete with score. It was issued on the Hyperion label in 2002 (CDA66884).

Eric Coates’s Entr’acte a là Gavotte (1912)

I was listening to Eric Coates’ Entr’acte a là Gavotte (1912) the other day on the ASV recording by John Wilson and the BBC Concert Orchestra. It is a piece that I have not consciously listened to before. Michael Ponder in the liner notes points out that although songs tended to dominate the composer’s output at this time, he did compose a few orchestral works.

Reading Michael Payne’s biography of the composer (The Life & Music of Eric Coates: Ashgate 2012) sheds some light on the piece. It was composed in 1912, after the largely forgotten Six Short Pieces for piano and the well known Miniature Suite for orchestra. At the same time Coates wrote a ‘graceful dance’ called The Mermaid, which may or may not be based on the eponymous poem by Tennyson. Payne suggests that both works were ‘probably conceived’ for piano, however the Gavotte was later orchestrated by the composer. The Mermaid was subsequently scored for orchestra by H.M. Higgs.

The formal inspiration for Entr’acte a là Gavotte is the conventional ‘entr’acte’ written for operas. This was originally music played between he acts of operas, ballets or plays. It allowed for the changing of scenery or costumes. The Entr’acte may also have served the purpose of being an ‘overture’ for the second or third acts. In later years, the title was extensively used by composers who divorced the music from any stage production and wrote stand-alone pieces.

The formal structure of this Entr’acte is ‘Introduction-A-B-A-C-D-A-(B)-coda’ however there is a sense of continuity between the sections. After a short introduction that hints at the gavotte’s main theme, the music continues with a graceful charm that echoes the nature of the historic dance. The contrasting subject is really a development of this tune rather than breaking new ground, although it is more forceful in nature. After the first reprise of the main theme, the trio section presents a contrasting mood that is somewhat wistful. Payne points out the relatively unusual use of the mixolydian mode in the ‘trio’ section. The coda is quiet and restrained. The general feel of this piece is that of ‘Merrie England’ with nods to Elgar (who also wrote a rather uninspiring gavotte for violin and piano) and Edward German.

I agree with Michael Ponder that this present ‘Gavotte’ is untypical of Coates later works. It is more in the style of Haydn Wood or Edward German than the later more ‘symphonic and syncopated’ suites, marches and waltzes that would flow from his pen.

The Entr’acte was dedicated Phyllis Black who would later (1913) become Coates’ wife. The piano score was published by Boosey 7 Co. in 1912. The orchestral set of parts is published by Edwin F. Kalmus

The Entr’acte was seemingly never recorded by Eric Coates. Currently the only recording of the work that is available on Amazon is ASV CDWHL 2112 with the BBC Concert Orchestra conducted by John Wilson, however I am not sure that it is still officially in the catalogue. It can be heard on YouTube, here.

It's not British, but...Maurice Ravel's Piano Music on Danacord Vol.1

The year 2025 marks the 150th anniversary of Maurice Ravel's birth. While it may be self-evident that Ravel, as a French composer, might not be considered part of the "Land of Lost Content," allow me to offer three reasons for his inclusion here. Firstly, Ravel has long been one of my most cherished composers, regardless of nationality. Secondly, he stands as one of the towering figures in the history of Western music. Finally, there is a distinctly British connection: between 1907 and 1908, Ralph Vaughan Williams studied orchestration under Ravel in Paris. The two became close friends, maintaining a correspondence for many years. Ravel's guidance proved invaluable, helping Vaughan Williams refine his musical voice and shed what he once described as the "heavy contrapuntal Teutonic manner."

To commemorate this milestone, I will dedicate three posts to reviewing the recently released collection of Ravel’s complete piano works, presented on three discs by the Danacord label.

Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) was a French composer renowned for his precision, innovation, and mastery of orchestration. Born on 7 March 1875 in Ciboure, France, to a Swiss father and Basque mother, Ravel's upbringing was steeped in cultural richness. He studied at the Paris Conservatoire, where his modernist tendencies clashed with the institution's conservative ethos. Despite this, he developed a distinctive style blending clarity, baroque influences, neoclassicism, and jazz.

Ravel's works include the hypnotic Boléro (1928), the evocative Daphnis et Chloé (1912), and the virtuosic piano suite Gaspard de la nuit (1908). His orchestration of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition remains iconic. A meticulous craftsman, Ravel composed fewer works than his contemporaries but left an indelible mark on music. His fascination with Spanish culture and exotic sounds often colored his compositions. Though sometimes labeled an Impressionist, Ravel's music defies strict categorization, embodying elegance, and innovation.

A new survey of Maurice Ravel’s piano music is always welcome. When the plan is to record everything that the composer wrote for the instrument that is extant, it is even more of a significant event. This is a major “first.” And when it is performed by Danacord’s superstar pianist Oleg Marshev it is simply perfect.

What is the added value of this present disc? Firstly, the programme is chronological. This allows for an informed and progressive appreciation of Ravel’s development as a composer. And secondly, there are several pieces that rarely make it onto surveys of his piano music. The cases in point here are La Parade, the Menuet in C sharp minor and the Fugue in F major.

The first novelty is Le Parade (1896). This was devised for Antonine Meunier of the Paris Opera to accompany her interpretive dancing. Le Parade features several dances, including two marches, two waltzes and a mazurka. It was composed under the pseudonym “Jacques Dream” and remained unpublished until 2008. Certainly, no masterwork, it retains interest simply because it is by Ravel. That said, I enjoyed it, and I recognise that it is an essential part of any “complete” survey of his music.

Menuet in C sharp minor dates from 1904. Ravel wrote it on the back of a composition exercise by his pupil Maurice Delage (1879-1961). It is unknown whether this was created for the student’s benefit or for his own amusement. Whatever the genesis, this is a gorgeous miniature that deserves to be better known. It lasts just over a minute but is full of beauty and charm. It is not a fragment, but a well-constructed piece complete with a climax and an ideal equilibrium of harmony and melody.

The Fugue in F major is a rarity indeed. Along with several others (possibly now lost) it was composed as part of Ravel’s “serial and unsuccessful attempts” to win the Prix de Rome between 1900 and 1905. The holograph is written on four staves, reflecting the practice of Bach in his Art of the Fugue. Oleg Marshev has arranged this for two hands at the keyboard. It is a wonderful fugue that has no whiff of the pedantic about it, even if it is not typically Ravelian in style.

The CD opens with the earliest surviving piano piece. The Sérénade Grotesque was completed around 1893. It combines hints of the “fantastic irony” of the composer’s future style (such as Scarbo from the Gaspard de la nuit) and nods to the past, with echoes of Chabrier’s Bourrée fantasque.

The Menuet Antique foreshadows Ravel’s true genius. Once again Emanuel Chabrier was the inspiration. It is a beautifully organized pastiche, where the composer plays with the “antique” minuet form. That said, there are some wonderful contemporary harmonic touches.

Little need be said about the ever-popular Pavane pour une infante défunte (1899), save that this is not programme music. It is not an elegy for an unnamed member of Spanish royalty. Ravel once said that he “simply liked the sound of these words and I put them there, c’est tout.” On the other hand, there is a heart-breaking wistfulness about the grave and stately progress of the dance.

Some listeners may imagine that the ultra-impressionistic Jeux d’eau (1901) was influenced by Claude Debussy. In fact, it was the other way round. Ravel in turn, was likely to have been inspired by Franz Liszt’s ‘Les Jeux d’eaux à la Villa d'Este’ from the Troisième année of the Années de pèlerinage (1877).

The composer wrote, “In Jeux d’eau can be found the origins of all the pianistic innovations that people notice in my works. The piece was inspired by the sound of water, of fountains, waterfalls, and streams. It is built on the two motives of a sonata form movement, without, however, conforming to the classical scheme of tonality.” Despite this loosely classical formal scheme, the overall impression to the listener is of ‘cascading arpeggios.’ Marshev gives a delightfully imaginative performance of this ultimate in “water music.” It was dedicated to Ravel’s teacher Gabriel Fauré.

Miroirs marks the composer’s “establishment of [his]…firmness of style and pianism.” Here, he refines his pianistic technique to perfection. It is a major contribution to the literature of the piano. The opening movement, Noctuelles, conjures the fluttering of moths at night-time. Oiseaux Tristes muses on birds, who the composer described as “lost in the torpor of a very dark forest, during the hottest hours of summertime.”  The best-known movement is Une Barque sur l’océan which gives an impression of a very blue Mediterranean, with just a hint of a breeze stirring up wavelets. Spain is visited next with Alborada del gracioso – the Dawn Song of the Clown. Here Ravel introduces all the panoply of the Iberian Peninsula: “twanging guitars and clacking castanets, all conspiring in typical rhythms” complete with double glissandi and repeated notes. It is the most technically challenging of the set. The final movement, La Vallée des cloches evokes bells heard in the distance. It is a study of deeply felt piano sonorities. The composer once stated that the closing chords echoed “the sound of the big bell in the Basilica of Montmartre in Paris.” Each movement was dedicated to a fellow member of Les Apaches, who were a group of avant-garde musicians, writers, and artists. Oleg Marshev provides a sensitive, but commanding, performance which captures the magic from the first to the last page. At all times, the mood and atmosphere are well judged and balanced.

As always with Danacord, the recording is impressive. The liner notes prepared by Peter Quantrill are excellent. They give a good account of each piece and provide a contextualisation of the music with Ravel’s life and times. 

Track Listing:
Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937)
Sérénade Grotesque (c.1893)
Menuet Antique (1895)
La Parade (1896)
Pavane pour une infante défunte (1899)
Jeux d’eau (1901)
Menuet in C sharp minor (1904)
Miroirs (1904-5)
Fugue in F major (1900)
Oleg Marshev (piano)
rec. July 2021 Cultural Institute, Milan
DANACORD DACOCD 903
With thanks to MusicWeb International, where this review was first published.

Charles Ancliffe: Smiles, then Kisses Waltz

Charles William Ancliffe (1880–1952) was an Irish-born composer best recalled for his light music, particularly salon piano music, genre dance pieces, and light character pieces. Born in Kildare, Ireland, he was the son of an army bandmaster and followed in his father's footsteps by studying at the Royal Military School of Music, Kneller Hall. Ancliffe served as bandmaster for the First Battalion, South Wales Borderers from 1900 to 1918, during which he composed many popular pieces, including marches like The Liberators and Castles in Spain.

His waltzes, such as Nights of Gladness Waltz (1912), became immensely popular, that in the early 1950s the BBC named a long-running light music program after it. Other notable works include the Thrills Waltz, Southern Nights, April’s Lady, and numerous short genre pieces. After leaving the military, Ancliffe was a regular conductor of the Scarborough Military Band and frequently conducted his own works on BBC wireless.

Smiles, then Kisses Waltz was composed in 1913, the year before the start of the First World War. It is characterized by its graceful melodies and playful rhythms, making it a onetime favourite in light music programmes.

This charming little piece captures the romantic and carefree mood of prewar Edwardian society. It opens with a short slow and expressive introduction which uses a melody to be heard later. The waltz theme is heard for the first time, before a short ‘jubiloso’ bridge passage gives way to a reprise of the main tune. The Trio is slow and romantic, ‘Tres expressif,’ and is also written in ternary form with a slightly more tragic sound. The big tune is heard again, before the recapitulation of the waltz theme. The number ends with an accelerando coda.

Listen to Charles Ancliffe’s Smiles, then Kisses Waltz on YouTube, here. Ronald Corp is conducting the New London Orchestra. It was issued on the Hyperion Record label, CDA67148 in 2000.

Grace Williams: Missa Cambrensis (1971)

It is a mark of the lack of appreciation of Welsh composers that Grace Williams’s Missa Cambrensis (1971) has waited 54 years to receive its premiere recording. To be sure it was revived in 2016 at the St David’s Hall, Cardiff, but for such a masterwork to be ignored for so long seems reprehensible. Yet, the same fate has fallen on many of her near contemporaries including Alun Hoddinott, Daniel Jones, David Wynne, and William Mathias.

The Missa Cambrensis is a big production by any stretch of the imagination. The Guardian reviewer of the 2016 performance regarded it as Mahlerian in concept. Malcolm Boyd in his study of Grace Williams has suggested that it is “in many ways the consummation of her life’s work.” Scale wise at least, I was reminded of Herbert Howells’s colossal Missa Sabrinensis.

Grace Williams (1906-1977) is often regarded as Wales's most significant female composer. Born in Barry, Glamorgan, she developed an early interest in music, learning piano and violin. Winning a scholarship to Cardiff University in 1923 she later studied at the Royal College of Music in London under Gordon Jacob and Ralph Vaughan Williams. In 1930, she spent a year studying with Egon Wellesz in Vienna. Williams wrote across a wide range of genres, including two symphonies, an opera - The Parlour, concertos, chamber music, film scores and songs. Her compositions were often inspired by Welsh landscapes and the sea, most notably the Sea Sketches (1944). Some of her most ‘popular’ pieces include Fantasia on Welsh Nursery Tunes (1940) and Penillion (1955), written for the National Youth Orchestra of Wales.

The Missa Cambrensis was written between 1968 and 1971 as a commission for the Llandaff Festival. Paul Conway, in the liner notes, reminds the listener that the adjective Cambrensis means “of Wales.”

Rhiannon Mathias, in her book about Grace Williams, explains that the festival committee had a policy of encouraging works which explored the connection between Christianity and the Church. Seemingly, Williams originally thought about producing an opera for the event but decided that a Mass would be more suitable for the venue.

It is intriguing that Grace Williams, a confirmed agnostic, should have chosen to compose a setting of the Mass. Williams had previously produced a handful of liturgical works including a Magnificat (1939) and a Benedicite (1964). Yet, as Mathias notes, her teacher, Ralph Vaughan Williams, also an agnostic, wrote numerous pieces for the church.

As can be seen from the credits the Mass is scored for large forces, including four soloists, mixed chorus, boys’ choir, and speaker. The orchestra is large, with much percussion and includes a piano. It is important to recall that it was devised for the concert hall and was never intended to be used at a celebration of the Eucharist.

Structurally, the Missa Cambrensis is divided into the five movements of a traditional Mass: Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus with Benedictus and finally the Agnus Dei. The language used is Latin. However, Williams has provided two “extra-liturgical” sections. The first is the inclusion of her 1955 Carol Nadolig (A Christmas Carol) to a text by Cymraeg poet and nationalist Saunders Lewis. Sung in Welsh by children’s voices it makes a delightful interlude. The other interpolation is the recitation of the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10). This series of blessings from the Sermon on the Mount are spoken by the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams.

Despite some critical contention that the interpolations fail due to the relative “feebleness” of the music, I found them quite moving. They are not essential to the overall structure of the work. Another criticism levelled is the preponderance of slow music after the Gloria. Yet this did not cause me any problems. The overall impact is one of intensity coupled with melancholy, and an unsettling balance between an austere sound and a few moments of warmth. The spirit is lifted simply by the sheer power of her writing.

The Missa Cambrensis was premiered at Llandaff Cathedral on 16 June 1971. It was deemed a success by composers and commentators present but was ungenerously panned by Kenneth Loveland in The Times.

The putative listener will wonder what Grace Williams’s Mass sounds like. At the time of its premiere, Malcolm Boyd noted similarities with Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem. The added non liturgical texts partially accounted for this opinion. Other music that may have influenced her are Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms and RVWs’ Dona Nobis Pacem. Yet there is a distinctive, if intangible, Welsh feel about the Missa Cambrensis. Whatever antecedents may have been in her mind, the resultant is entirely Grace Williams’s invention.

The present performance cannot be faulted. A great deal is demanded of all the singers and instrumentalists. The recording of this remarkable choral work is impeccable. The extensive liner notes devised by Paul Conway is a masterclass. He provides a thirteen-page essay including an introduction to Grace Williams and her achievement, as well as a detailed discussion about the genesis of the Mass, and a non-technical analysis of the music. Texts and translations are included at the front of the booklet.

I think the last word can go to Malcolm Boyd: “[The Missa Cambrensis] may not be [an] unflawed masterpiece, but it is a work of great power, rich in incident, generous in feeling and exemplary in craftsmanship.”

Track Listing:
Grace Williams (1906-77)
Missa Cambrensis (1971)

April Fredrick (soprano), Angharad Lyddon (mezzo-soprano), Robert Murray (tenor), Paul Carey Jones (bass-baritone), Dr Rowan Williams (narrator), BBC National Orchestra of Wales, BBC National Chorus of Wales, Côr Heol y March/Adrian Partington

rec. 20-21 January 2024, Hoddinott Hall, Cardiff
Lyrita SRCD 442

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

Minor Masterpieces of Organ Music No.2: Percy Whitlock’s Salix

Percy Whitlock (1903-1946) was an English organist and post-romantic composer. His music, influenced by his teachers Charles Villiers Stanford and Ralph Vaughan Williams, is characterized by its rich harmonic language and lyrical expressiveness. Whitlock's compositions, primarily for organ and choir, often feature a conservative yet imaginative use of traditional forms and structures. Notable works include the Plymouth Suite, the Sonata, and Five Short Pieces for Organ, which all retain their place in the repertoire. Whitlock’s style blends the romanticism of his era with a clear personal voice, that sometimes veers towards a cinema organ style. His music is always accessible and enduring.

In 1936, Whitlock became the full-time Borough Organist at Bournemouth, after resigning his post at St Stephen’s Church the previous Christmas Day. Major works at this time included the magisterial Sonata in C minor for organ. This, strangely, was dedicated to Dorothy L Sayers and Harriet Vane, the heroine of her Lord Peter Wimsey novels. Work also started on his largest score, the Organ Symphony, which premiered the following year.

The Plymouth Suite, written in 1937, is a celebrated work in the organ repertoire. Inspired by a trip Whitlock and his wife took to Plymouth for a conference of "The Incorporated Association of Organists," the suite consists of five movements, each dedicated to organists who attended the conference. The movements are: Allegro risoluto, Lantana, Chanty, Salix, and Toccata. The dedicatees, respectively, were Harvey Grace, then at Chichester Cathedral, Dom Wilfred of Buckfast Abbey, Dr J.H. Reginald Dixon, longtime organist at Lancaster Cathedral, Henry Austin Dewdney and Dr Harold Moreton, Plymouth’s Borough Organist.

The Allegro risoluto is energetic and bold, while Lantana is lyrical and flowing. Chanty evokes the spirit of sea shanties, and the Toccata is a virtuosic finale.

The fourth movement, called Salix is an example of the pastoral style just beginning to wane at the time of writing. The piece's depth is more intense than the 'light-hearted' dedication would imply. The dedicatee was the above-named Henry Austin Dewdney who was a Bournemouth pianist. He engaged in local music-making during the nineteen thirties. The composer himself states that he was “A perpetual grouser, yet with much humour.”

Salix means a willow tree - a weeping willow. The main theme is a gentle 'Sicilian' tune in 6/8 time. Whitlock expert, Malcolm Riley has noted echoes of the folksong Sing all a Green Willow my Garland Must Be and echoes of Percy Grainger’s song My Robin is to the Greenwood Gone in this movement.

This gentle piece opens [fig.1] in E minor with a wistful phrase supported by gentle dissonances and a little imitation of the melody. The middle section [fig.2] is brighter, but still thoughtful. The reprise of the main theme has a slightly more complex accompaniment before it concludes in a brighter E major.

Salix is characterized by its serene and lyrical nature, providing a tranquil contrast to the more robust and energetic movements of the suite. The music is marked ‘andante tranquillo,’ indicating a calm and peaceful tempo. Whitlock uses rich harmonies and flowing melodic lines to create a soothing atmosphere. The tune is simple, yet elegant, weaving through the texture with a sense of grace and poise. The gentle use of dissonance and resolution enhances the movement's emotional depth, making it both introspective and evocative.

The skilful registration choices allow the organ's timbres to shine, highlighting the instrument's expressive capabilities. Salix stands out as a beautiful example of Whitlock's ability to combine lyrical writing with subtle harmonic language.

One cannot discuss the Plymouth Suite without noting the concluding Toccata. This was dedicated to the above-mentioned Dr Harold George Moreton (1864-1961). Strangely, this is Whitlock's only essay in this form. It is in the tradition of the great French Toccatas of Boëllmann, Gigout and Mulet. This is a magnificent finale to a superb suite. Superficially, it is ‘easy’ to play, but the subtle changes of key and figuration make it much harder to 'bring off' than a first glance would suggest. There are two themes here: a slow-moving pedal tune is set against a semi-quaver accompaniment on the manuals. The solo reed emerges and lifts this piece into the heavens. The Toccata would make an excellent recessional for a wedding if only more people were aware of its existence.

With thanks to MusicWeb International where some elements of this essay were first published.

With thanks to the Glasgow Society of Organists Diapason Journal where this essay was first published. 

Richard Addinsell: Ring Round the Moon (1950)

Christopher Fry’s adaptation and translation of French playwright Jean Anouilh’s comedy L’Invitation au Chateau, renamed as Ring Round the Moon was a popular play in the early 1950s. It is best recalled today (where at all) in the performance which opened at the Globe Theatre, London on 25 January 1950. This production starred Paul Scofield, Margaret Rutherford, Cecil Trouncer and Audrey Fildes.

The play is set in a grand estate in France, the story explores themes of love, mistaken identity, and the complexities of human relationships. The plot revolves around Hugo, a wealthy and aloof man, who is planning to marry a beautiful, but spoiled, woman Diana Messerschmann. However, Hugo’s twin brother, the more playful and free-spirited Frederic, secretly arranges a romantic twist to disrupt his brother’s engagement. Through a series of misunderstandings and hidden motives, the characters navigate the intricacies of love, identity, and societal expectations. Anouilh/Fry uses wit and humour to examine the nature of love, and the illusions people hold about themselves and others. The play's light-hearted tone contrasts with its underlying reflections on personal freedom and the search for happiness in a world full of complications.

The incidental music was provided by English composer Richard Addinsell (1904-77) (of Warsaw Concerto fame). Philip Lane in the liner notes for the only commercial recording of this work (Dutton Epoch, CDLX 7209) explains that he was able to reconstruct the score from tapes that were hired to amateur dramatic societies. He scored it for a “modestly sized orchestra, albeit a little fuller than originally.”

The Suite: Ring Round the Moon contains eight short movements, most bearing the title of a dance. It begins positively, with a fetching Prelude, complete with an obligato for piano. The second is a spry Two Step that Addinsell would later reuse in The Prince and the Showgirl (1957) starring Marilyn Monroe and Laurence Olivier. The Invitation Waltz was later made into a standalone concert piece and was also used in the film Woman in a Dressing Gown (1957). It is a wistful, haunting piece. The longest number is the Tango, with its lugubrious, Latin-American lilt. Things become happier with the cheery Light Waltz: it is a quintessential piece of light music. Equally merry is the jolly Polka. The penultimate number is a Sad Waltz which lives up to its title. Very much a piece of its time. Happiness is restored with the vibrant Galop.

Listen to Richard Addinsell’s Suite: Ring Round the Moon on YouTube, here (scroll down on the right hand side for the individual movements). The BBC Concert Orchestra is conducted by Roderick Dunk.

Vivian Ellis: Holidays Abroad Suite (1961)

Vivian Ellis (1903–1996) is now remembered for his masterly Coronation Scot written in 1938 and subsequently used as the theme tune to the BBC Radio programme, Paul Temple. It is one of the most evocative pieces of ‘railway music’ ever devised, conjuring up images of speed, sophisticated travel, and the joys of journeying behind a powerful steam locomotive.

Ellis was a prominent British composer, best known for his contributions to musical theatre. A key figure in the golden age of British musical comedy, he created a string of successful stage productions, particularly during the mid-20th century. Good examples of his work include Mr Cinders (1929), The Fleet’s Lit Up (1937) and Bless the Bride (1947), all of which reflect his signature blend of catchy melodies, engaging lyrics, and romantic themes.

Ellis's career began in the 1920s as a concert pianist but he soon became and arranger in London's West End. By the 1930s, he had established himself as a composer. Throughout his career, he collaborated with notable lyricists and librettists, producing shows that enjoyed critical acclaim and popular success. His musicals highlighted a cosmopolitan yet accessible style, characterized by lively orchestrations and lyrical charm.

Holidays Abroad (1961) is a light-hearted suite written by Vivian Ellis. It reflects his signature style of catchy tunes and witty lyrics. It has five descriptive movements – more like postcards really. The first is ‘Reunion in Vienna’ which is a delightful waltz that is both energising and reflective in equal measures. Then follows a picture from Spain’s ‘Costa Brava’: it is an engaging tone-poem describing the sights and sounds of this lovely part of Sunny Spain – just before it was discovered by teeming holidaymakers. The third movement is a gentle evocation of the piazza around the ‘Leaning Tower of Pisa.’ I guess the composer must have had the early morning in mind, as I have never seen it this quiet. The most evocative music comes next: ‘Paris Taxi.’ Anyone who has endured a trip in one of these vehicles at ‘rush hour’ and has negotiated the Place de la Concorde will empathise with Ellis’s ‘take.’ Lots of scurrying, screeching brakes, horns and even hints of a frayed temper and the odd police whistle. The finale is a relaxing ‘Swiss Air.’ I have never been to Switzerland but have often flown over the Alps. This present ‘air’ imagines a pasture rather than a mountain peak. There is a suggestion of lovers walking together on a cool, cloudless day. Monia Liter (1906-1988) was responsible for the subtle orchestrations of these delightful mood pieces.

Though it was not as commercially successful as some of Ellis’s earlier works, it remains notable for its light, frothy narrative and its reflection of post-war optimism and the rising popularity of overseas travel. The music embodies the joyful escapism of the late 1950s, capturing the spirit of adventure and leisure of the time.

Listen to Vivian Ellis’s Holidays Abroad Suite on YouTube, here. The New Concert Orchestra is conducted by Paul Hamilton (Actually Monia Liter) (GLCD  5195) It was originally released on Decca DFE 6667 in 1961.