Masks – An unusual introduction to the music of Sir Arthur Bliss Part I

All enthusiasts of Arthur Bliss (1891-1975) will be able to tell of their first introduction to his music. For many, I guess, it will be A Colour Symphony or one of the ballet scores – Miracle in the Gorbals or Checkmate. For some, it may have been a film score such as Things to Come or Welcome the Queen. Maybe it was the great choral work Morning Heroes or the impressive Introduction and Allegro. However, I imagine that few will have approached the master through his piano work Masks. Let me explain.

When I was still being introduced to the great works of the British music repertoire I got to know a gentleman by the name of Kenneth R. Dawkins. In about 1972 he had been appointed organist and choir master my local church. At that time, I sung in the choir and was the ‘deputy’ organist. He had been born around the turn of the century in Coventry and had worked for most of his life as a pianist and arranger, although he played the organ and turned his hand to composition. His great claim to fame was to have played piano duet with Maurice Ravel in the ‘twenties. Over a few years he introduced me to much music – including the organ works of Olivier Messiaen. Nevertheless, it was the times that he visited my house that remain in my mind. He played a number of works for me on my piano, including my first hearing of John Ireland’s The Island Spell and Billy Mayerl’s Marigold. It was at one of these occasions that he played to me Arthur Bliss’s Masks. It is work that has remained as a favourite ever since, although I had to wait for another fifteen years before being able to purchase a recording of this work. Over the succeeding 38 years I have heard much of Bliss’s music and have come to regard him as one of the major voices of the twentieth century. Yet looking at the literature there has been little written about the piano works in general or Masks in particular.

In January 1923, Arthur Bliss sailed to the United States with his father, Francis Edward Bliss. Bliss père had remarried and wished to spend the last years of his life in his native country. They chose Santa Barbara in California to live. The composer was not totally settled there: he did travel in the States and back again to England for various performances and functions. Nevertheless, in June 1924 he met his future wife, Gertrude (Trudy) Hoffman in Santa Barbara. The American years were rich for Bliss, not only personally, but in the performances of his music and the works composed. From this period date the song cycle, The Women of Yueh, the String Quartet No.2, the incidental music to King Solomon and the Two Interludes for Piano.

Masks was composed in 1924 whilst Arthur Bliss was in the United States. According to Stewart Craggs, the holograph has been lost. However, the work was published in 1925 by J. Curwen & Sons Ltd, 24 Berners Street, London. Originally, the four pieces were given titles, but these were not included in the music’s engraving. They were ‘A Comedy Mask,’ ‘A Romantic Mask,’ a ‘Sinister Mask’ and finally a ‘Military Mask.’ The work was dedicated to Felix Goodwin who was a personal friend of the composer. Goodwin was associated with the music publisher Goodwin and Tabb and had made huge efforts on behalf of British music and composers.

I had never been quite sure how to interpret Masks. Were they just a pastiche of different piano styles, written for effect, or was there something deeper in the concept of this work? It was not until I read a paragraph in John Sugden’s biography of the composer that the penny dropped. Sugden writes that Bliss believed that his personality had changed little over the years – from his childhood, through his time in the trenches and into his musical maturity. When he was at school ‘...he learnt how to conceal his true feelings behind a mask of indifference, he used it –the mask – during the next few years of his life when he was in the army...’ Bliss is quoted as saying that ‘...it enabled me, when I had endured these, to shake off the experiences that might have greatly affected me, and emerge again for my destined life in music as I really was.’ It is this psychological mind game that underlies the musical content of Masks. Certainly, the striking cover by C. Paine from the 1925 edition bears this out. Three men hurry past, each carrying a mask – one is leering, the other is worried and possibly depressed, whilst the third is quite ambiguous. Interestingly, Paine has not tried to recreate the original designations of each of the four pieces. Certainly, he has not drawn the ‘Romantic’ or the ‘Military’ masks, whilst the ‘Comedy’ and ‘Sinister’ ones may or may not be represented –it depends on the artistic prejudices of the viewer of the cover. 

Bibliography
Sugden, John, Bliss: The Illustrated Lives of the Great Composers, Omnibus Press, 1997.

To be continued…

With thanks to The Arthur Bliss Society Newsletter Volume 9, Number 1, Spring 2011: 12-16 where this essay first appeared.