Johann Philipp Kirnberger: La Lutine for piano

Umpteen years ago, I learnt to play (badly) Johann Philipp Kirnberger’s short piano piece La Lutine. Translations vary, but my score carried the subtitle The Impish Girl. The word lutine derives from the Old French 'lutin' meaning a hobgoblin or mischievous spirit, and may even connect with older regional terms for household spirits, such as the Roman Lares. In French folklore a 'lutin' is a small supernatural creature - playful, sometimes helpful, sometimes a trickster - something between a brownie, a pixie, and a goblin. The definite article and feminine ending suggest a “female imp, sprite, or mischievous fairy”. But The Impish Girl suits me perfectly.

The reference books explain that Johann Philipp Kirnberger (1721–1783) was a German composer and influential music theorist from Saalfeld, Thuringia. Trained initially at home, he studied organ with Kellner, violin with Meil, and counterpoint with Gerber, who introduced him to J. S. Bach; Kirnberger subsequently became one of Bach’s pupils. After periods in Leipzig and ten years in Poland, he returned to Germany, continued violin studies in Dresden, and in 1751 joined Frederick the Great’s Berlin chapel. From 1758 until his death, he served as Capellmeister to Princess Amalie of Prussia, who was Frederick the Great’s sister. She was a patron of the arts, as well as a composer herself. Over the decades he taught notable pupils such as Johann Abraham Peter Schulz, Carl Friedrich Christian Fasch, and Carl Friedrich Zelter, while pursuing extensive theoretical research. His major theoretical work, Die Kunst des reinen Satzes (1771-79), remains an enduring contribution with specialists, though he also wrote the music articles for Sulzer’s Theorie der schönen Künste.

As a composer he was more competent than inspired; his fugues are his most distinguished works. He edited collections by Graun and Hassler, and many of his manuscripts survive in the Berlin’s State Library. Kirnberger’s argumentative temperament and dogmatic manner made him unpopular among colleagues.

La Lutine offers a rare glimpse into Kirnberger’s lighter, more imaginative side as a composer. While history often remembers him as a rigid guardian of J.S. Bach’s strict contrapuntal methods, this keyboard character piece, published in 1763, captures the playful spirit of the Galant style. Moving away from the dense, academic textures of his ‘celebrated’ fugues, Kirnberger uses this work to paint a musical portrait of a nimble, unpredictable “Imp.”

The composition is defined by its brisk articulation and rhythmic wit. Written in a bright A major, it relies on detached eighth notes and sudden melodic leaps to evoke the darting movements of a sprite. It stands as a testament to the "theory of affects," where music was expected to represent specific human or mythological characteristics. Despite its brevity, the piece demands a sophisticated technique, requiring the performer to balance lightness of touch with precise ornamentation.

Today, La Lutine remains one of Kirnberger’s best known pieces, frequently appearing in intermediate piano curricula - about Grade 4 in the ARCM listings. It serves as a bridge between the Baroque and Classical eras, proving that even the most dogmatic theorist possessed the grace and humour to compose music of pure, unpretentious charm.

The piece was published in Clavierstücke mit einem practischen Unterricht für Anfänger und Geübtere edited by Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg, Sammlung 3, No. 4, Berlin, 1763. However, it has appeared in many albums of piano music since that time.

Listen to Johann Philipp Kirnberger’s  La Lutine on YouTube, here.

 

It's not British, but...The Best of Martin Jones: Discover Jean Roger-Ducasse

This new release from Nimbus is a sampler. In 2015, Martin Jones recorded the complete piano works of Jean Roger-Ducasse on three discs (NI 5927). Sadly, I missed this collection, which was extensively reviewed here, and here, on MusicWeb International.

For many listeners, this French composer will be recalled for a single work: the Pastorale for organ, completed in 1909. More adventurous folk will have come across the two Marco Polo discs of a selection of his orchestral music, including his masterpiece Au Jardin de Marguerite. These were issued in 1994.

A few biographical notes will be of interest. Roger-Ducasse was born in Bordeaux on 18 April 1873. He initially studied with Émile Pessard and André Gédalge and then, critically, with Gabriel Fauré. Success came when he won second prize for his cantata Alcyone in the Grand Prix de Rome. Much of his career was devoted to teaching, succeeding Paul Dukas as Professor of Composition at the Paris Conservatoire in 1935. Some of his distinguished pupils included Jacques Ibert, Jéhan Alain and the sadly ignored Scotsman, Francis George Scott as a private pupil.

His catalogue is wide-ranging and includes the opera Cantergril (1931) and several major orchestral works, including the Sarabande (1907), the Nocturne d’Hiver (1921) and the Epithalame (1923). There were chamber works, motets, songs, and piano music. A recording of his large-scale Mahler-esque Ulysse et les sirènes (1937) for chorus and orchestra remains a desideratum for his admirers. Jean Roger-Ducasse died at Le-Taillan-Médoc near Bordeaux on 19 July 1954, aged 81 years.

Several things inform Roger-Ducasse’s style. He absorbed a great deal from Bach, especially in the use of counterpoint, and this discipline gives his music a strong inner structure even when the surface becomes highly decorated. He did not try to integrate modernist tendencies into his compositions. Whilst not eschewing contemporary harmonies he used them more for interest than for shock. His music is rarely aggressive or bitter. Above all, stands the influence of his former teacher, Gabriel Fauré, from whom he inherited ‘classical restraint’ though Roger‑Ducasse often pushes rhythmic complexity much further than his mentor ever did.

The two above mentioned reviews contain detailed analysis, which I will not repeat here: I will remark on a few highlights (for me).

I understand that the Barcarolle (1906) was originally written for the piano but was later issued for harp dedicated to Alphonse Hasselmans. Listening to this delightful piece, the listener will be aware of the influence of Fauré. The “velvety textures” offer a wonderful, if complex, meditation on a not too relaxing trip on a Venetian gondola. Barcarolles are usually composed in compound time (6/8 or 12/8); Roger-Ducasse has set the basic pulse as 3/4 but has laid groups of triplets above the left-hand accompaniment, giving the effect of 9/8 undulation. The rhythmic structure becomes more complex, and the there is a considerable climax that does not suggest La Serenissima on anything other than a stormy (or passionate) night.

The Six Preludes date from 1907. Unlike Claude Debussy’s Préludes which were completed three years later, Roger-Ducasse does not attempt to provide a programme, literary or topographical. Each Prélude uses a limited amount of material, but is subject to "the logical unfolding, with flexibility and imagination, of a melodic, harmonic, or rhythmic motif, clearly established in the first measures of each piece" (M. Emmanuel, programme note). This thematic concentration is constantly enhanced by interesting harmonies. Martin Jones plays nos. 2, 5 and 6 here. The first performance of the complete cycle was on 13 January 1912, at the "Société Nationale," by the legendary French pianist, Marguerite Long.

Two numbers from Roger-Ducasse’s Four Études (1915) are sampled. The first, No.1 has all the hallmarks of Claude Debussy’s “Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum” from Children’s Corner. However, its middle section is infinitely more complex to play, with increased chromaticism and nods to modernist techniques. The second, a Fugue, opens lightly with a ‘très aimable’ theme derived from a children’s song. Despite being in ‘only’ two voices, this fugue (like many others) gets more complicated and technically difficult as it progresses. It balances the simplicity of the subject with demanding and dense episodes, stretto, and coda.

The Arabesque No.1 (1917) was dedicated to the violinist and friend of Maurice Ravel, Ms. Hélène Léon (Hélène Jourdan-Morhange). It is an elegant number that combines a succession of nimble motifs, flexible rhythms, and inventive harmonic and pianistic detail. Ostensibly in F-sharp major, it is chromatically wayward. Sadly, Martin Jones only played the first Arabesque here; No.2 was completed in 1919.

How anyone can play Roger-Ducasse’s Rythmes, also dating from 1917, I will never know. I followed this brilliantly played piece in the score: it is a thesaurus of rhythmic devices, made more complicated by a shower of accidentals. It is certainly not easily accessible to the average pianist. It would be a thoughtful and commanding encore for any recital.

Martin Jones needs little introduction to piano music enthusiasts. Born in 1940, he is one of Britain’s most versatile and prolific pianists, first receiving public attention on winning the Dame Myra Hess Award in 1968. His international career spans major concerto appearances, recitals, and broadcasts. Distinguished by his vast discography on Nimbus Records, he has recorded complete piano cycles by composers from Mendelssohn and Debussy to Grainger and Jean Françaix.

The liner notes are clear and informative. They include a good introduction to Roger-Ducasse’s life and work written by Rhys Ward, as well as detailed notes by Adrian Farmer on the present repertoire. They are, I believe extracted from the original 3-CD release.

After listening to this concise survey of Roger-Ducasse’s piano music, so imaginatively played, I feel that I should explore the full set, making up for lost time.

Track Listing:
Jean Roger-Ducasse (1873-1954)
Barcarolle (1906)
Six Préludes II. Très calme; V. D'un rythme capricieux et tender; VI. Très souple (1907)
Arabesques (1917)
Etude en Sol dièse mineur (1914)
Barcarolle No. 2 (1920)
Etude en Sixtes (1916)
Quatre Etudes I. Prélude; II. Fugue (1915)
Etude en La bémol majeur (1916)
Romance (1923)
Rythmes (1917)
Martin Jones (piano)
rec. 2014, Concert Hall of the Nimbus Foundation, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth
Nimbus NI 7744

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

 

Introducing William Hurlstone Part II ‘The Recorded Legacy’

While the recorded legacy of William Hurlstone remains comparatively scarce, a reflection of a career tragically cut short, several specialist labels has ensured his most significant works remain accessible. This overview highlights key milestones in his discography, though it does not claim to be a comprehensive catalogue.

One of the earliest documented fragments of Hurlstone on record appears to be the "Intermezzo" from the Four Characteristic Pieces for Clarinet and Piano (1899). Performed by the celebrated clarinettist Thea King and pianist Thomas McIntosh, this track was included on a 1972 sampler entitled What Good is Recorded Sound? (Discourses ABC9), which showcased a diverse array of repertoire and performers.

A significant turning point arrived in 1979 when the Lyrita label issued the first album dedicated entirely to Hurlstone’s output. This landmark release (SRCS.100/SRCD.2286) featured the Piano Concerto and the Variations on a Swedish Air, with soloist Eric Parkin and the London Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Nicholas Braithwaite. Lyrita further championed Hurlstone’s orchestral voice with a subsequent collection featuring the Variations on an Original Theme, The Magic Mirror, and the Variations on a Hungarian Air, once again featuring Braithwaite and the London Philharmonic (SRCD.208).

The chamber music has seen a steady, if gradual, accumulation of recordings. In 1981, Thea King returned to the Four Characteristic Pieces, this time accompanied by Clifford Benson for the Hyperion label (A66014), a program that contextualized Hurlstone alongside peers like Stanford, Ferguson, and Finzi. Two years later, the Tunnell Piano Quartet explored the larger-scale chamber forms with the Piano Trio in G and the Piano Quartet in E minor for Lyrita (SRCS.117/SRCD.2286). The Cello Sonata in D has also fared well; after an early 1986 recording by Charles and Susan Tunnell on the Bravura label (BVA 8621), the work received notable modern treatments from Andrew Fuller and Michael Dussek on Dutton Epoch (CDLX7102) and Lionel Handy and Jennifer Walsh on Lyrita (SRCD441).

The twenty-first century has brought a renewed focus on Hurlstone’s keyboard music. In 2010, Mark Bebbington released the premiere recording of the Piano Sonata on the Somm label (SOMMCD 097), pairing it with the massive D minor Sonata by Benjamin Dale. This was followed in 2016 by a more exhaustive undertaking from Kenji Fujimura, whose "Complete Piano Music" on Toccata Classics (TOCC 0289) provided the most thorough look at Hurlstone's solo output to date.

Hurlstone’s Bassoon Sonata has become a staple of the recorded wind repertoire, with fine versions available from soloists like Peter Musson on Continuum (CDD1079), and Daniel Smith on ASV (CD DCA 535). These releases along with the Phantasie for String Quartet on EM Records continue to flesh out the portrait of a composer whose potential was as immense as his life was short.

If you can only hear one CD…

This is a little bit of a cheat. It must be Lyrita’s remastered double CD release in 2007 of the above-mentioned albums (SRCD.2286). This allows the listener to hear two major orchestra works as well as two important pieces of chamber music.

The Concerto for Pianoforte in D major (1895) was a significant student composition that stands the test of time. It used Saint-Saëns’s Piano Concerto No.2 (1868) as a model. Listeners will discover nods towards Schumann, Brahms, Grieg and even Rachmaninov in these pages. Described in The Era (14 December 1895) as being “clever, melodious and agreeable” It contains “many brilliant and effective passages” for piano as well as there being much to admire in the orchestral accompaniments.

The Musical Times (October 1910) reported on the Variations on a Swedish Air which is “significant [for] the freedom of treatment adopted by the composer in this work. The subject theme is not so much a pedestal to a statue as a life-giving vein to living flesh, visible here and there. It is plainly traceable in the first few variations but is then lost to view while the composer is concerned with elaborating his own accompaniments and incidental ideas. Later it again becomes recognisable as snatches of it are brought into prominence, sometimes with vehemence and sometimes with delicate fancy. The statement of the simple and ingenuous theme is preceded by a weighty introduction, which foreshadows much of the independent material of the later movements. The high faculties of the composer, well-known through the medium of his chamber music, did not abandon him when he penned this composition. His resources are handled with mastery: the effect is there not for effect's sake, and, as usual, romance and beauty capture the senses while a characteristic academic flavour earns our esteem.”

Once again the Musical Times (January 1905) gave a good description of the Quartet in E minor for violin, viola, cello, and pianoforte (c.1904): “This opens with a robust theme, which is vigorously and tersely developed until the movement ends with a stormy Coda. The ‘Andante’ cantabile possesses charm of a tranquil kind, and the third number, ‘Vivace non troppo,’ has the light-heartedness of an Irish jig, and Irish idiom is still more apparent in a central section. The Finale is also full of verve, and the work, if making no pretensions to greatness, is decidedly pleasant.”

Finally, the Piano Trio in G major offers a sense of pure radiance. Spread across four movements, it balances a genial opening with a rhythmic vitality that keeps the music moving. A satisfactory adjective is “charming.” Rob Barnett at MusicWeb International has noted “a lilting Brahmsian embrace with an affectingly sentimental ‘Andante’ which serves as a prelude to a spring heel Dvořákian ‘Molto vivace’ and an uncloudedly happy Allegro comodo. Once again Hurlstone introduces and element of folk music. This time it is a Scottish melody that is heard in the finale as the “second subject.”  

Finally, if you can only listen to one work…

This is a difficult choice. Some would insist on the Piano Concerto; others may plump for the Magic Mirror Suite. I could be tempted by the Piano Sonata. However, I suggest the Phantasie Quartet for two violins, viola, and cello.

This holds significant historical weight as the winner of the inaugural Walter Willson Cobbett Competition held in 1905. This was the event that effectively created the "Phantasy" genre. This single-movement, through-composed form would become a hallmark of early 20th-century British chamber music. A fine edition of this work is included on the Bridge Quartet’ survey of the English Phantasy (EM Records EM CD025).

Beyond its historical status, Hurlstone’s Phantasie Quartet is remarkable for how much it compresses into its eight-minute duration: lyricism, rhythmic vitality, and masterful contrapuntal skill. As C. Twigg noted, (Liner notes) it is by “turns lyrical and dramatic, but also witty and playful.” The opening presents a haunting modal theme with a deeply "English" quality that foreshadows English pastoralism.

The Phantasie Quartet is also available on Cobbett's Legacy: The New Cobbett Prize for Chamber Music, Resonus Classics RES10243, with the Berkeley Ensemble.

Introducing William Hurlstone Part I

William Hurlstone (1876-1906) remains one of the great "what ifs" of the English Musical Renaissance. Though his career lasted just over a decade, his impact was considerable, especially in the development of 20th-century British chamber music. His primary legacy was the establishment of the "Phantasy" genre by winning the inaugural Walter Willson Cobbett Competition in 1905. This was a single-movement, through-composed form that became a hallmark for composers from Frank Bridge to Herbert Howells and Benjamin Britten.

A prodigy at the Royal College of Music, Hurlstone was a favourite pupil of the formidable Sir Charles Villiers Stanford. Famously, Stanford ranked Hurlstone’s natural genius above that of his classmates Ralph Vaughan Williams and Gustav Holst. Unlike the modernists who would follow, Hurlstone’s style was "sane" and disciplined: a synthesis of Brahmsian craftsmanship and a promising, "haunting" English lyricism.

Tragically, Hurlstone died of bronchial asthma at just 30, leaving behind a "rich treasure" of music that suggests a missed evolutionary step in British music history. He was not merely a provincial figure of the South London suburbs, but an urbane craftsman whose orchestral variations and chamber works justify his epitaph: "Music hath here entombed rich treasure but still fairer hopes.”

• Born at 12 Richmond Gardens, (now Empress Place) Fulham, London on 7 January 1876
• Encouraged by musical parents, he showed considerable talent from an early age.
• Began to compose aged only nine years.
• Suffered from chronic ill health with a bronchial condition which lasted his lifetime.
• Aged fifteen, he composed a Piano Trio, op.2, now lost.
• Entered the Royal College of Music (RCM) in 1894. Studied under Charles Villiers Stanford, Algernon Ashton and Edward Dannreuther.
• In May 1904, his Fantasie-Variations on a Swedish Air was premiered at the first Patron’s Fund concert.
• After leaving the RCM, Hurlstone conducted Musical Societies in South London. Worked as a piano teacher.
• Appointed accompanist to the Bach Choir in 1903.
• In September 1905, he joined the staff at the RCM to teach counterpoint and harmony.
• Hurlstone died on 30 May 1906, at his home in 23 Park Mansions, Prince of Wales Road, Battersea Park, London

Nine Selected Works

William Hurlstone’s catalogue spans orchestral music, chamber pieces for both strings and winds, piano solos, songs, part‑songs, and a number of now‑lost compositions. The Catalogue of Works prepared at the Royal College of Music outlines a creative life that began precociously: early piano pieces from the 1880s, followed by substantial chamber works such as the Two Trios, op. 2 and the Variations in G minor for clarinet, bassoon, and piano. By the mid‑1890s he had completed some major scores including the Five Dances for Orchestra and the Piano Concerto in D major. His output for wind instruments is especially distinguished. Despite its modest size, Hurlstone’s catalogue displays remarkable craftsmanship and expressive depth. All the works listed below are available on CD and/or streaming.

1. Piano Sonata in F minor (1894)
2. Concerto for Pianoforte in D major (1895)
3. Variations on an Original Theme in G minor (c.1896)
4. Four Characteristic Pieces for clarinet and pianoforte (1899)
5. Sonata in D major for cello and pianoforte (1899)
6. ‘The Magic Mirror’: Fairy Suite for Orchestra in 7 Parts, based on Snow White (1900)
7. Trio in G major for violin, cello, and pianoforte (1901)
8. Quartet in E minor for violin, viola, cello, and pianoforte (c.1904)
9. Phantasie Quartet for two violin, viola and cello, in A minor and A major (1905)

Further Reading

Sadly, there are few biographical studies of William Hurlstone. The most significant is the most recent. Christopher Redwood’s William Hurlstone: Croydon's Forgotten Musical Genius (Highbridge: Sequoia Publishing, 2015) is the definitive modern biography. It offers the most comprehensive look at Hurlstone’s life, his struggle with asthma, and a detailed discussion of his musical output. It is the go-to source for all interested in this composer’s life, times, and achievement.

The earliest significant contribution was Henry George Newell’s 30-page biographical sketch William Yeates Hurlstone: Musician and Man (London: J. & W. Chester, 1936) which was published by the composer’s sister, Katharine Hurlstone. It is a vital early source for personal anecdotes and the first attempt at a formal catalogue of his works.

Some years later, Katharine Hurlstone edited William Hurlstone, Musician (London: Cary, 1947). Appearing 41 years after the composer’s death, this remarkable collection of tributes and critical appreciations included a significant essay by his contemporary Thomas Dunhill titled "The Music of William Hurlstone."

Two more direct resources which provide overviews of the composer’s work are the entries in the Dictionary of National Biography (online version) written by Diana McVeagh and the current Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians (online edition, 2001) was devised by Robert Pascall and updated by Jeremy Dibble.

One important historical article, "Hurlstone and his Work," was published in the November 1958 edition of The Musical Times. Reginald Nettel provided an important retrospective look at his legacy during a period when Hurlstone’s music was beginning to fade from the active repertoire and before its revival, beginning in the 1970s.

Of significant interest is the Catalogue of Works assembled by Katy Hamilton and published by the Royal College of Music in 2009. Divided into genres this resource provides information about the works’ history, publication, and contemporary performances. Each piece has details of reviews where found. There is a detailed chronology and supporting bibliography.

The RCM Holds many of Hurlstone's original autograph manuscripts, performance programmes from his time as a student, and college records.

The second part of this Introduction will examine the recorded legacy.

It's Not British, but...Karol Mossakowski and the Organ of Saint-Sulpice, Paris

It is many years since I heard the organ of Saint‑Sulpice in Paris. It was not at a service or a recital but an organist “practising.” The piece was Vierne’s Carillon sur la sonnerie du Carillon de la chapelle du Chateau de Longpont (Aisne) which is the ninth number in Book 2 of the Vingt-quatre pièces en style libre. The organist may have been Jean-Jacques Grunenwald.

The instrument is one of the most significant in Europe, if not the world. This large five manual organ was originally built in 1781 by François‑Henri Clicquot. After a less than successful rebuild between 1835 and 1845, it was remodelled and expanded by the legendary Aristide Cavaillé‑Coll. This instrument retains the five manuals and has one hundred stops. It is a symphonic organ that unites French classical tradition with a Romantic aesthetic. It remains one of the few instruments by Cavaillé‑Coll not to have electric action. The liner notes give the all-important specification.

The recital begins auspiciously with an inspiring performance of Dupré’s landmark Trois Préludes et Fugues, op. 7. This collection was sketched during the summer of 1912, whilst Dupré was preparing for the Grand Prix de Rome (which he later won with his lyric scene Psyché). Although given a performance at the Salle Gaveau, Paris in 1917, they remained unpublished until 1920. They are widely regarded as establishing the composer’s reputation. Each is dedicated to a recently deceased French organist: No. 1 in B major to René Vierne (younger brother of Louis Vierne, killed in WWI), No. 2 in F minor to Augustin Barié, and No. 3 in G minor to Joseph Boulnois (also killed in WWI).

An anecdote recounts that when Charles-Marie Widor first saw the score, he declared that the first and the third Preludes were “unplayable.” Indeed, even a cursory glance at the sheet music reveals formidable technical challenges: rapid tempos, intricate passagework, and demanding pedal parts. The first P&F (my favourite) is a regular “warhorse.” This is followed by the more restrained No.2 which some have suggested nods towards Claude Debussy, who was still living at this time. No.3, in contrast, has a magical “spinning wheel” Prelude and a ferocious Fugue that retains much of the momentum of the opening movement. This performance on the organ that Dupré once played is inspiring and exemplary.

Charles-Marie Widor’s Trois nouvelles pièces, op. 87 (1934), represents his final, reflective contribution to the organ repertoire, written at the age of ninety. These serve as a serene "swan song," dedicated to three of his former American pupils: Albert Riemenschneider, Charlotte Lockwood, and Frederick Mayer. If the listener is expecting the fireworks of his earlier symphonies for the organ, they will be disappointed. Widor has used a neo-classic economy to generate the mood of the three imaginatively titled movements: Classique d’hier, Mystique, and Classique d’aujourd’hui. He has used chromatic harmonies, sometimes creating an impressionistic mood. Karol Mossakowski brings out the structural elegance uncluttered by overt virtuosity (nevertheless, the last piece is no cinch) of this music with this pensive farewell to the French Symphonic tradition the Widor himself helped create. Absolutely beautiful.

I listened to Jean-Jacques Grunenwald’s Diptyque liturgique (1956) and am still processing this massive “soundscape.” The two movements of the Diptych provide a huge contrast. The Preces is meditative and prayerful, punctuated with intense moments, whilst the Jubilate Deo radiates joy and vivacity. The entire work reflects Grunenwald’s synthesis of the French Symphonic organ tradition with the more “mystical textures” of his era as evinced in the music of Jehan Alain and Olivier Messiaen. It also acknowledges the “renewed prestige of improvisation” found in the French School at this time. Commissioned for the 150th anniversary of St. James’ Episcopal Church on New York’s Upper East Side, it feels particularly well structured:  a nod to the fact that the composer was both a master architect and the successor to Marcel Dupré at Saint-Sulpice.

The final track on this disc is by another celebrated titular organist at Saint-Sulpice, Daniel Roth. His Fantaisie fuguée sur "Regina caeli" (2007) is based on the Gregorian Marian antiphon traditionally sung during Eastertide. It creates a balance between the improvisatory tone of the Fantaisie and the rigorous construction of the “dancing” Fugue. Firmly rooted in the French Symphonic style, it calls for a wide range of registration and “orchestral” effects. Despite Roth’s modern harmonic language, the work never loses sight of the ancient plainsong melody.

Karol Mossakowski is a Polish organist specialising in both interpretation and improvisation. He has won several important awards including the Prague Spring Competition and the Grand Prix de Chartres. In 2023, he was appointed as titular organist of Saint‑Sulpice, sharing the duties with Sophie-Véronique Cauchefer-Choplin. He has performed internationally, including Tokyo’s Musashino Hall, Madrid’s Auditorio Nacional and many European cathedrals. Mossakowski is also noted for his imaginative silent‑film improvisations including a notable accompaniment to Dreyer’s Jeanne d’Arc, released on DVD by Gaumont after the Lyon Festival Lumière performance. His recordings include Poulenc’s Organ Concerto and Jongen’s Symphonie Concertante.

The liner notes by Vincent Genvrin provide a good introduction to the recital. As noted above, there are details of the organ’s history along with a full specification. A resume of Karol Mossakowski is also provided. The well-illustrated booklet is presented in French, German and English translations.

This new disc by Karol Mossakowski’s successfully explores the grandeur of the Saint‑Sulpice Cavaillé‑Coll organ with a well-thought-out programme spanning Dupré, Widor, Grunenwald and Roth, each composition illustrating a different facet of the French symphonic tradition. The recording honours a remarkable lineage and the organist now entrusted with it.

Track Listing:
Marcel Dupré (1886-1971)
Trois Preludes et Fugues, op.7 (1912)
Charles-Marie Widor (1844-1937)
Trois nouvelles pièces, op.87 (1934)
Jean-Jacques Grunenwald (1911-82)
Diptyque liturgique (1956)
Daniel Roth (b.1942)
Fantaisie fuguée sur "Regina caeli" (2007)
Karol Mossakowski (organ)
rec. 22-24 April 2025, Saint-Sulpice, Paris
Aeolus AE-11491

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

Promenade Concert British Novelties for 1926

The 1926 Promenade Concert series took place from Saturday, 14 August 1926 to Monday, 16 October 1926. As usual at that era, the concerts were held at the Queen's Hall in London and featured the New Queen's Hall Orchestra, conducted by Sir Henry Wood. This season was the last under the sole management of impresario Robert Newman, who died in November of that year, before the BBC assumed sponsorship of the concerts in 1927.

The period of the Proms was overshadowed by post General Strike tensions. The Miners’ Federation began formal negotiations with Stanley Baldwin’s government on 18 August, four days after the festival began. On a more optimistic note, the legendary cricketer Jack Hobbs scored 316 runs for Surrey against Middlesex in a match at Lord's.

Culturally, the Jazz Age was in full swing, with London’s nightlife pulsing to American rhythms in the dance halls and clubs that defined the era. The year 1926 marked a decisive cultural shift in Britain, as Art Deco modernity took hold through shorter skirts, bobbed hair, and a flourishing entertainment scene shaped by jazz, cinema, and the rise of ready‑to‑wear fashion.

• Frederic Austin: Suite from the music to The Insect Play (11 October 1926)
• Arthur Bliss: Introduction and Allegro for full orchestra (8 September 1926).
• Rutland Boughton: Overture: The Queen of Cornwall (31 August 1926).
• Eric Coates: Phantasy for orchestra The Three Bears (7 October 1926)
• Gordon Jacob: Viola Concerto in C minor (23 September 1926).
• Susan Spain-Dunk: Concert Overture The Kentish Downs (30 August 1926)

Frederic Austin (1872-1952) was an English baritone, teacher, and composer recalled for revitalising The Beggar’s Opera in the 1920s. A champion of contemporary music, he premiered works by Delius and performed widely before becoming artistic director of the British National Opera Company in 1924. His own catalogue is represented by the Symphony in E major, the Rhapsody: Spring and the exhilarating Overture: Sea Venturers. They have all been recorded on CD (Classico CLASSCD 404).

The Insect Play, by the Czech writers Josef and Karel Čapek, was a sharp piece of satire in which every character is an insect, their behaviour mirroring familiar human follies. Butterflies, beetles, ants, snails, and crickets become emblems of our own vanities and obsessions, and the third act’s vast Ant Battle carries a clear pacifist message. For the English stage, Nigel Playfair and Clifford Bax created a free adaptation from Paul Sevier’s literal translation, with a score composed by Frederic Austin. The production ran at the Regent Theatre.

Phillip Sear plays two extracts from The Insect Play: the Three Step, here and the One-Step, here.

Arthur Bliss has retained his place in the annals of British music. His remarkable Colour Symphony still has the occasional outing and has six recordings. The ballet Checkmate has kept a toehold in the repertoire. Listeners who are not fans will have heard the “March” from his film score for the remarkable film Things to Come released in 1935. Bliss’s Morning Heroes, a powerful choral symphony commemorating the fallen of the First World War, is regarded as one of his most personal and enduring achievements.

The Introduction and Allegro, was completed in 1926, belongs to a string of confident, optimistic music Bliss composed after returning from service in the First World War. It was devised originally for the Promenade Concert held on 8 September 1926. It reflects his growing reputation as a brilliant orchestrator and his alignment with the neoclassical currents shaping British music in the mid‑1920s. It also marks a key step in the evolution of his public style, bridging the experimental boldness of his early post‑war works and the more polished, extroverted voice that would soon emerge in pieces like the above-mentioned A Colour Symphony and Morning Heroes.

It has been recorded four times, with the most recent being issued on the Chandos label, with Andrew Davis conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra (Chandos CHSA 5191).

Rutland Boughton’s opera The Queen of Cornwall, premiered at the 1924 Glastonbury Festival, is a notable "choral drama" adapted from Thomas Hardy’s eponymous verse play. A darker, swifter successor to his The Immortal Hour, it reimagines the Tristan and Iseult legend. It was praised for its orchestral confidence and seamless transition between dialogue and song.

Originally produced without an overture, Boughton provided one for the 1926 Promenade Concerts. It is a substantial, thirteen-minute symphonic poem that expanded the opera’s original minimalist Glastonbury orchestration into a lush, Wagnerian soundscape for a full romantic orchestra. Although the entire opera has been recorded on the Dutton Epoch label, (2CDLX7256) the Overture remains a desideratum.

Eric Coates wrote three ‘phantasies’ inspired by children’s fairy stories: Cinderella, The Selfish Giant, and The Three Bears. The latter was specifically produced for the Promenade Concert held on 7 October 1926. As the title suggests it was based on ‘Goldilocks and the Three Bears. It was dedicated to Coates’s son, Austin, on his fourth birthday. This personal connection highlights its whimsical nature. Michael Payne (Thesis, 2007, p.507) has pointed out, the story is eminently suitable “to picturesque orchestral treatment and the fact that every hearer is familiar with it will make this work easily intelligible.” Commenting in the Musical Times (November 1926, p.1026), Eric Blom considered it “a smoothly written little work that contrives to outline the story and to retain at the same time a certain shape of its own.” Central is the recurring leitmotiv of “Who’s been sitting in my chair?” which provides a cohesive thread throughout the entire phantasy - a work never short in musical wit. Many recordings have been made of The Three Bears. The BBC Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Rumon Gamba can be heard here.

Gordon Jacob’s Viola Concerto No. 1 (1925) is an impressive one-movement composition that balances "rugged virility" with "gentle singing." Premiered in 1926 by Bernard Shore, it explores the dual nature of the viola through three distinct sections. It occupies a lush, romantic landscape reminiscent of Bax and Vaughan Williams, shifting between pastoral serenity and defiant, heroic "calls to arms." Despite its strength and "sensational" lyricism, the concerto remained neglected after the 1920s until the recent recording. It stands as a powerful testament to Jacob’s ability to blend neo-classical structure with uncharacteristic, non-sentimental romanticism. It can be heard on an album titled Gordon Jacob: Complete Music for Viola and Orchestra, (Dutton Epoch, CDLX 7258) which also includes his second concerto, the Concert Piece, and the Three Pieces for Viola and Orchestra. Played by Helen Callus, viola, and the BBC Concert Orchestra is conducted by Stephen Bell.

Folkstone-born Susan Spain-Dunk’s (1880-1962) Concert Overture The Kentish Downs (1926) is a notable example of 20th-century British pastoralism. Premiered at the Promenade Concerts on 30 August, it reflects her love of her native Kent.

Moving beyond mere landscape painting, the overture captures the rugged beauty and shifting light of the North Downs through strong melodic lines and rich, late-Romantic orchestration. It balances rhythmic vitality with a sense of expansive serenity, exploring her technical competence. As a pioneering female composer-conductor, Spain-Dunk used this piece to cement her reputation for creating "evocative and expertly crafted" orchestral tone poems. To my knowledge, it has not been given a modern recording, although there is a performance of the Overture on YouTube, here.

Out of the six British Novelties heard at the 1926 Promenade Season, only two have really held their place in the concert and recording stakes: Eric Coates: Phantasy for orchestra The Three Bears and Arthur Bliss’s Introduction and Allegro. Susan Spain-Dunk’s Concert Overture The Kentish Downs, Frederic Austin: Suite from the music to The Insect Play and Rutland Boughton: Overture The Queen of Cornwall await recording. And finally, Gordon Jacobs’s Viola Concerto in C minor has had a single recording made but has not really entered the repertoire.

The Peter Jacobs Anthology Volume 3

Peter Jacobs writes that the genesis of this disc is in a recital that he gave to the Havergal Brian Society in 1979. It was recorded at the time, but the tapes only resurfaced earlier this year. Sadly, the Brian pieces that he performed were missing. He explains that HB was “the presiding spirit over almost all the music he played that afternoon.”

I am not sure where the sheet music for the Prelude and March from Granville Bantock’s major choral work Omar Khayyám originated. The record company assured me that these transcriptions were made by Bantock, however, I cannot find any reference to them in the catalogues and guides to research. Whatever their provenance, they evoke a pseudo-orientalism, which, while a touch 'East of Dagenham' exotic, is vividly characterised.

The two Preludes and Fugues for piano by composer, scholar, teacher, and author Harold Truscott are splendid mid-20th-century essays in counterpoint, balancing tradition with a distinctly English voice. The E‑flat minor pair, around seven minutes, unfolds in a sombre prelude and a weighty Molto andante fugue, echoing late‑Romantic idioms. The C major pair, just over two minutes, contrasts with brisk energy and playful charm. They explore Truscott’s seriousness and wit, his admiration for Bach, and his belief in the fugue’s contemporary vitality. They are not part of a complete cycle.

William Allum was an English draftsman, poet, and composer, strongly associated with Havergal Brian. Born in Wheatley, Oxfordshire, he lived with Brian in 1918, and it was Brian who encouraged him to send his compositions to Granville Bantock. Allum’s output includes piano, organ, and vocal music such as Aspatia’s Song, Preludes on original vespers, and Sweet Was the Song.

The liner notes explain that Allum had a great love of Chopin, a devotion that is reflected in the two pieces heard here. The Prelude No.24 in D minor was written in honour of his idol, while the Nocturne in C sharp minor is a dreamy exploration of “unexpected melodic turns and languid harmonies.” Hopefully, Jacobs will explore more of William Allum’s music.

William J. Fenney was a Birmingham-born composer. Initially self-taught, he later studied composition under Granville Bantock at the Midland Institute School of Music. Deeply influenced by his admiration for Elgar, Fenney produced orchestral and chamber music, alongside songs and piano tunes. In later years, he ceased composing, feeling unable to adapt to contemporary idioms. Josef Holbrooke in his eccentric Contemporary British Composers (London, Cecil Palmer, 1925) believed that Fenney had an “introspective gift” and asserted that his Trio, op.20 “alone will place him in high estimation among musicians” concluding that Fenney’s music is “intrepid, malleable and interwoven in a charming way.”

Fenney's Au Printemps ('In Early Spring') is a remarkable bit of pastoral quaintness. The core sentiment underpinning the composition is that "even on the brightest day our scenery has at least a hint of melancholy." Unfortunately, few details about this 1915 suite (published by J&W Chester) are provided in the liner notes. The three movements are collectively dedicated to a Mrs Albert Halstead.

The opening movement, Romance, establishes a demanding pianistic style, using considerable octaves in the right hand and tenths in the left. It leaves the listener questioning its narrative - is it an unexplained tale of chivalry or adventure, or, much more likely, a movement nodding towards an emotional attachment between two people? The subsequent piece, In the Woods, is played with notable innocence and restraint. The collection concludes with On a Hillside, which is performed vivace e marcato. This final movement stands out as a technically challenging study of broken chords, which at times explodes into Lisztian passion. An interesting historical reference found in the Musical Times (March 1918) confirms the existence of an orchestral version of Au Printemps.

I was surprised to learn that the highly respected author and editor Malcolm Macdonald was also a composer. His books on Havergal Brian and John Foulds have long been in my library; he also served as editor of Tempo magazine and was a regular broadcaster.

The liner notes explain that Waste of Seas (1976) was inspired by a Hebridean seascape: it is bleak, lonely and adamant.

Robert Simpson’s “uncompromising” Variations and Finale on a theme of Haydn which was written in 1948 making it one of his few piano works. The theme was taken from the second movement, Menuetto al Rovescio, of Haydn’s Piano Sonata in A major, Hob. XVI:26 (1773) - a palindromic theme - also used in Haydn’s Symphony No.47 in G. All twelve of Simpson’s variations are also palindromic, except for the Finale. The variations are divided into three groups of four, the first being fast, the second akin to a “slow movement” and the third could be a scherzo. The Finale is a not too strict double fugue with accretions. It is the most technically challenging work on this disc, and one I confess I find difficult to fully warm to, yet it undeniably displays Robert Simpson’s ‘modern’ language while showing considerable respect for classical sensibilities.

The final track presents The Queen's Dolour - A Farewell by the honorary Scottish composer, the Lancashire-born Ronald Stevenson. This gorgeous piece is a transcription from Herny Purcell’s opera, Dido and Aeneas. Everyone knows the story: Dido’s farewell to Aeneas is one of the most tragic moments in Virgil’s Aeneid - she confronts him in fury and grief when he prepares to leave Carthage, accusing him of betrayal, and resolves to end her life. Yet Aeneas has been told by Jupiter that his mission lies in Rome, and not in Dido’s arms. Stevenson transforms Purcell’s original with spread chords, inner voices, and Romantic embellishments, agelessly complementing its unforgettable melody.

Bearing in mind that this was a “live” recording made 46 years ago; the sound holds up remarkably well. The liner notes give a good introduction to this recital, though I would have appreciated a little more historical information and analysis, particularly the dates of the works. There is a brief resume of Peter Jacobs.

This anthology presents a skilful and engaged performance of some fascinating British piano music, successfully capturing an important 1979 recital. Despite a few missing historical details, the disc commendably explores “forgotten” composers like Truscott, Allum, Fenney, and Macdonald, making it a valuable, well-preserved snapshot of neglected repertoire.

Track Listing:
Granville Bantock (1868-1946)
Omar Khayyam: Prelude & March (1906-09)
Harold Truscott (1914-92)
Prelude and Fugue in E flat minor (1957)
Prelude and Fugue in C major (1957)
Walter Allum (1895-1986)
Nocturne in C sharp minor (?)
Prelude No.24 in D minor (?)
William John Fenney (1891-1957)
Au Printemps 'In Early Spring' op.13 (1915)
Malcolm MacDonald (1948-2014)
Waste of Seas (1976)
Robert Simpson (1921-97)
Variations and Finale on a theme of Haydn (1948)
Henry Purcell (1659-95)/Ronald Stevenson (1928-2015)
The Queen's Dolour - A Farewell (Purcell) (1959)
Peter Jacobs (piano)
rec. 1979
Heritage HTGCD127

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

Jacques Ibert: A Giddy Girl for piano

I remember walking into the Music Room at Coatbridge High School and hearing a pupil playing a neat little piece. This was more than fifty years ago. She told me it was A Giddy Girl by someone called Jacques Ibert. I never knew whether she was practising it for an exam or just learning it for fun, although it has been used as an ABRSM Grade 5 piece. I asked if I could try it myself, sat down at the piano, and got no further than the fourth bar.

Since then, I have made a little progress with the piece, but more importantly, I have discovered much more music by Ibert.

Jacques Ibert (1890–1962) was the ultimate "free spirit" of 20th-century French music. Born in Paris, he was a brilliant student who managed to win the prestigious Prix de Rome in 1919 - on his first attempt - a feat made even more impressive considering his studies were interrupted by his service as a naval officer in World War I. 

Ibert is often described as "eclectic." He famously refused to join any specific musical "club," like the Impressionists or the then avant-garde "Les Six." Instead, he wrote music that was simply pleasant to hear, blending sparkling wit, Mediterranean warmth, and elegant craftsmanship. Whether he was writing a silly circus-like tune in Divertissement or the lush, travel-inspired Escales (Ports of Call), his work always feels luminous and full of life.

Later in his career, he became a major cultural diplomat, directing the Villa Medici in Rome and leading the Paris Opéra. He believed that "all systems are valid," a philosophy that allowed him to compose everything from film scores to flute concertos with the same effortless charm.

A Giddy Girl is the fourth number in Ibert’s 1922 piano suite, Histoires. This collection of ten pieces was written between 1912 and 1922; most were composed during Ibert's years at the French Academy at the Villa Medici, inspired by his travels to Spain, Italy, and Tunisia. Overall, they represent a subtle balance of Impressionistic textures and Neoclassical structures.

Subtitled “Dans un style de romance sentimentale anglaise” - translated as “In the style of a gentle English love song” - the actual “giddiness” of the title is conveyed through sharp articulation and rhythm.

Lasting about 90 seconds, the work is structured in a loose ternary (A-B-A) form. The opening bars establish the “giddy” motif driven by a whimsical, uneven rhythm; despite being written in 4/4 time, the music suggests a folk dance or even hints at a waltz. This playful character is reinforced by a texture of staccato notes and rapid grace notes, evoking the "hopping" steps of a flighty protagonist.

The central section is marked ‘Un peu plus lent’ (a little slower) uses similar rhythmic structures in the accompaniment but adds a melody in the upper register of the right hand giving a gentle lyricism.

A reprise of the initial theme is ornamented with chromatic grace notes that heighten the sense of mischief, leading to a short coda with some wayward modulations before finally ending on the tonic G major.

A Giddy Girl serves as a musical "snapshot” - a refined, humorous vignette that perfectly captures Ibert’s core philosophy that music should be a source of pleasure and light-hearted fantasy.

Listen to Jacques Ibert’s  A Giddy Girl for piano on YouTube, here. It includes the full score of the piece.

Expectations: Organ Music from Cheltenham College

The advertising brief for this disc explains that Expectations “takes the listener through a journey of the autumn, winter feasts and festivals, and highlights the anticipation of opportunities and renewal in the new year.” Nevertheless, there are several pieces here appropriate for any season. I shall set aside my usual unreasonable prejudice against organ transcriptions for the purpose of this review.

The recital opens with Edwin H Lemare’s idiomatic reworking of Camille Saint‑Saëns’ Danse Macabre (1874). This has long been a favourite symphonic poem, often played around Halloween. Henri Cazalis’s underlying verse depicted Death tuning his fiddle at midnight, summoning skeletons from their graves to dance until dawn breaks. Where the original relies on tritone‑laden violin lines and the rattle of xylophone "bones," Lemare’s transcription uses the organ’s dynamic range to preserve the eerie narrative with dramatic success.

There is nothing particularly wintry about Alexandre Guilmant’s Marche Funèbre et Chant Séraphique. This is taken from the collection Pièces Dans Différents Styles, Book 3, op. 17 (1864). The climactic funeral procession may well suggest the autumn of life that awaits us all. The roiling pedal part is impressive here, though fortunately the long-breathed seraphic song brings consolation.

No Christmas season would be complete without a performance of Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker, whether staged at the London Coliseum or the Birmingham Hippodrome. Ffinch plays satisfying arrangements of the Ouverture Miniature, Danse Russe ‘Trépak’ and the Danse de Mirlitons extracted from the Suite op.71a (1892).

Explicitly seasonal is William Mason’s Nun Komm der Heiden Heiland (2025) a “refreshingly colourful” take on the great Advent chorale.

Derek Bourgeois’s Serenade op. 22 (1965) was originally written as a bridal march for the composer’s own wedding, it swings with a playful, Caribbean‑style riff. Though now a staple of the brass band world, it translates surprisingly well to the organ loft. Similarly, one might wonder what is "seasonal" about the Air from Holst’s Brook Green Suite (1933), but Ffinch’s arrangement evokes a pastoral mood suggestive of shepherds abiding in the fields.

Marcel Dupré’s Variations sur un Noël op.20 (1923) transforms the traditional French carol Noël nouvelet, into a stunning sequence of ten variations. Each explores a new technical challenge, from delicate filigree to a thunderous toccata. Often harmonically and chromatically wayward, it is difficult to “bring off.” Ffinch gives a marvellous account here. The war story attached to this piece is that Dupré allegedly composed the work whilst travelling on trains in America during his Autumn 1922 tour.

In its original piano version Fanny Mendelssohn’s cyclical Das Jahr (1841) traces the unfolding of the entire year, with each movement capturing the character, atmosphere, and ‘emotional’ weather of the months. Alexander Ffinch performs the final number (Epilogue or Postlude?) in his own arrangement. He describes it as “A stark yet optimistic depiction of the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve in the 1840s.” The ghost of Bach is not far away in these pages.

Since first hearing David Bowie’s Space Oddity back in 1969, I have been a fan of this influential musician. The remarkable thing about his career was his constant reinvention himself – from Mod singer to Psychedelic and Glam trailblazer, and later into Jazz and Art Rock. He never ceased to surprise and entertain. Ffinch plays his own transcription of Bowie’s surreal and defiant Life on Mars? taken from Bowie’s Hunky Dory album. It makes a fitting tribute to the tenth anniversary of the legendary singer’s death.

Marcel Lanquetuit was born in Rouen in 1894. He became Marcel Dupré’s first pupil which was remarkable as he was aged eight and Dupré was a “grown up” 15-year-old. Lanquetuit would become his teacher’s assistant at Saint-Sulpice in Paris before returning to Rouen in 1937 as Cathedral Organist. He remained in that post until his retirement in 1978. Despite his high-profile appointment he has remained “under-acknowledged” as a contributor to the French symphonic organ tradition. One reason for this is that much of his performance was improvisation, which has not been recorded or transcribed. Another is that many of his scores were destroyed in a house fire in 1940. Two singular pieces have survived. The Intermezzo dating from 1923 is impressionistic with its varying moods and eclectic harmonic progress. For the dozens of married couples who reflexively demand Widor’s Toccata for their weddings, it is a pity that one or two do not choose Lanquetuit’s example dating from 1927. It has everything of the elder man’s magnum opus: rapid figurations, bold harmonic surges, and a jubilant final ascent which concludes this “exhilarating” composition.

The present three manual and pedal organ at the Cheltenham College Chapel was originally built by Norman and Beard in 1897. It was subsequently rebuilt by Harrison and Harrison in 1930, with additions in 1976. In 2013 a 32-foot Double Ophicleide pedal stop was added. A major overhaul followed in 2017, during which the console, soundboards, wind system, and pipework were removed for cleaning, re‑leathering and restoration, and a new piston system was installed. A complete specification of the current instrument is printed in the booklet.

The liner notes provide a variable assessment of the recital. Some works are virtually ignored; others have a detailed non-technical analysis. The booklet is beautifully illustrated but sadly includes a photo of the organist wearing a baseball cap inside the Chapel.

Alexander Ffinch’s playing is superb throughout, characterised by conviction and talent. This is a thoughtfully designed programme that justifies its title and offers a rewarding journey through the darker months toward the light.

Track Listing:
Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921) arr. Edwin H Lemare
Danse Macabre op.40 (1874)
Alexandre Guilmant (1837-1911)
Marche Funèbre et Chant Séraphique op.17, No. 2 (1864?)
Derek Bourgeois (1941-2017)
Serenade op.22 (1965)
William Mason (b.1991)
Nun Komm der Heiden Heiland (2025)
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-93)
The Nutcracker Suite op.71a (1892): Overture Miniature arr. Reginald Goss-Custard; Danse Russe ‘Trépak’ arr. Alexander Ffinch; Danse des Mirlitons arr. Reginald Goss-Custard
Gustav Holst (1874-1934)
Brook Green Suite H 190 (1933) II. Air arr. Alexander Ffinch
Marcel Dupré (1886-1971)
Variations Sur un Noël op. 20 (1923)
Fanny Mendelssohn (1805-1847)
Das Jahr H 385 (1841): XIII. Epilogue [Postlude] arr. Alexander Ffinch
David Bowie (1947-2016)
Life on Mars? (1971) arr. Alexander Ffinch
Marcel Lanquetuit (1894-85)
Intermezzo (1923); Toccata (1927)
Alexander Ffinch (organ)
rec. 30June-3July and 17-18 July 2025, Cheltenham College Chapel, Cheltenham.
Divine Art ddx21147

Ron Goodwin: The Headless Horseman

Whilst writing my recent blog post about Ron Goodwin’s Jet Journey, I listened to one of his other orchestral miniatures: The Headless Horseman. I was reminded of an old Yorkshire legend. In the shadow of York’s ancient walls, Bishopthorpe Road harbours a darkness that predates the city’s gaslights. On nights when the fog rolls thick off the River Ouse, the silence is shattered by the rhythmic, heavy thud of invisible hooves and the frantic rattling of chains.

From the gloom emerges a blackened carriage pulled by four powerful horses - their necks ending in jagged, spectral stumps. Atop the box sits the coachman, a towering figure in a tattered funeral shroud, his head missing from his broad shoulders. He wields a whip that cracks like a lightning bolt, though it makes no sound upon hitting the air. He does not stop for passengers. This is York’s "Death Coach," a grim harbinger of doom. Legend warns that to investigate the empty space where the driver's face should be is to glimpse your own end. Yet no-one knows who he is or what the backstory is.

To be sure the ‘Headless Horseman’ is a trope of many diverse cultures and literary endeavours. Each one uses the image of a rider minus his head to induce fear into the local populace, or to point up the boundary between the living and the dead. In the Celtic tradition the Dullahan is the most striking: a dark fairy who carries his own head under one arm and rides a snorting black horse or driving a coach, appears as a harbinger of death.

Germany brings its own version of the legend: the Wild Hunt. Here the decapitated rider gallops across the countryside and offers a warning to all those who see him. Is this the imagery that Liszt engenders in his Transcendental Étude No. 8, “Wilde Jagd” (Wild Hunt)? The best-known incarnation of this tale is Washington Irving’s Legend of Sleepy Hollow. In Irving’s story, schoolmaster Ichabod Crane is hunted by a headless Hessian trooper, a spectral soldier whose head was carried away by a cannonball during the American Revolutionary War. Or was it all a hoax?

Across all these tales, the ‘Headless Horseman’ stands for something in the protagonist’s life that is left unfinished, whether an unburied warrior, a cursed soul, or a wandering messenger from the ‘other side.’ He rides endlessly between one realm and the next, a reminder that the past has a way of circling back when people least expect it.

Ron Goodwin’s The Headless Horsemen is a short piece, lasting less than three minutes. Yet, much happens in this miniature. It opens with a loud drum roll, followed by an onomatopoeic mimicking of a horse neighing. There is an upward sweep of strings before the rider sets off. Soon the percussion is beating out the thunder of hooves. His travels are announced by a big brassy theme. There are interjections from loud trombones, and every so often a whipcrack is heard. Is the listener misled by a slightly more lyrical moment in the central section? Screeching and swirling strings return before the piece finishes with a loud braying. The Headless Horseman has arrived at his destination, wherever that may be.

The Headless Horseman was first issued on a 78rpm record in 1956 (Parlophone R.4162). It was coupled with No Other Love. It can be heard on YouTube, here. The composer conducts his own orchestra. It has been reissued on 45rpm and on LP.

David Dubery: Music for woodwinds and piano

All readers of Homer’s Iliad will recall the monstrous, fire-breathing hybrid: part lion, part goat, and part serpent - slain by the hero Bellerophon riding Pegasus. Dubery recollects that he visited the Archaeological Museum in Florence to see the Etruscan bronze, Chimera de Arezzo (400BC). But the noun ‘chimera has another meaning: “wildly illusory, a fanciful dazzling conception.” The composer told me that Chimera is “about the unpredictability of the scheming beast- weighing up situations and being deceptive.” He has united all these meanings in his eponymous musical picture of the beastie devised for clarinet and piano. Written in 1984, it has been heavily revised in recent years. Lasting for six minutes, there is a stuttering opening section, followed by a lugubrious slow passage, then a dance and closing with a reprise of the opening. Nothing very fearsome here. There is lovely piano writing as well as vivid woodwind passages.

I think that “Sonatina” can be a disparaging word, which reminds the listener of interminable grade studies. But then think of the so-called Sonatinas by John Ireland and Maurice Ravel – hardly studies for the tyro. The Sonatina for clarinet and piano originated as a piece for recorder and piano dating from 1989. The composer explains that he was attracted to the “bolder colour palette, character and dynamics of the clarinet,” so he revised the original in 2016. The Sonatina is in four easy going movements, beginning with a lively syncopated Moderato poco Scherzoso with two barely contrasting themes. The Lento has two elements: firstly, a kind of Theocritean pastoral, and secondly, animated interjections, which sound like “startled birds.”  Movements three and four are combined on one track and are played without pause. The instruction “affrettando” is not one I have come across often; my vade mecum tells me that it means “pressing forward,” or “with increasing urgency,” which perfectly describes this music. It concludes with a “rustic dance.” It is a splendid Sonatina, which sounds anything by easy, that would make a wonderful contribution to their programme for any recitalist.

My favourite number on this disc is Music for an Untold Story, scored for flute and piano. Dubery has suggested that it reflects his love of the cinema, theatre, and crime fiction. I am not sure about the latter. Everything tells me that this is a romance in the spirit of a “Brief Encounter.” Or is it an intrigue set during WW2? Certainly, there are lovely Rachmaninovian piano passages here, accompanying some delightful flute passages. It was written in 1981 and edited in 2016 and 2024.

Remembering Satie, again for flute and piano, needs a little explaining. The composer recalls that he had developed a piano miniature inspired by “an alfresco lunch in my garden on a hot summer day.” Suddenly there was a “mini dust devil” or small, short‑lived whirlwind that “upended the plates and napkins as well as raising soil, grass, and dead leaves.” Then there was a moment of stillness… Dubery was reminded at the time of a Satie Gymnopédie. In 2024, the original piano version was rescored for flute and piano. It is a lovely, relaxed work that truly pays homage to the eccentric Frenchman from Honfleur. Yet, there is little impression of the Dust Devil himself in the detail.

Hommage – In Olden Days is a relatively straightforward work in three-part form, with an introduction and coda. It was written during the Covid pandemic in 2021 but was based on an earlier sketch. The liner notes are correct in suggesting the influence of Francis Poulenc. It is an attractive piece that becomes increasingly enthusiastic as it progresses.

The important Sonata for oboe and piano dates from 1982. It is subtitled Since Dawn is Breaking. The programme notes explain that it was inspired by Paul Verlaine’s poem, Puisque l’aube grandit. The poem is not printed in the booklet; however a helpful summary would be that at daybreak, the speaker feels hope rising again after a long absence, as though morning itself restores the possibility of happiness. They imagine moving forward through life guided by the beloved’s eyes lighting the way, their hand steadying his own - no matter whether the path is soft and mossy or rough and stony. To ease the journey, he pictures himself singing simple tunes, comforted by the thought that the beloved will listen without displeasure. For him, that gentle acceptance is enough; he desires no paradise beyond being heard and accompanied by them. Each movement focuses on a different emotion based on the three verses of the poem. The first presents a pastoral image which is introspective, before exploring a much more optimistic mood. The second movement is a love song, where the “piano and oboe lovingly entwine.” And the finale is a triumphant paean of “joy and happiness” infused by jazzy rhythms, a quieter interlude, and an exultant coda. To be sure, the Sonata makes for easy listening even divorced from the poem and programme. The language is at times Poulenc-ian with some interesting touches of neo-classicism and English pastoral.

The final piece is a travelogue. Written for piano, violin and cello, between 2013 and 2016, the Piano Trio Tre Giorni (Three Days) was inspired by a holiday to Lake Como in Italy, and the surrounding landscape. Dubery gives an incredibly detailed synopsis of the historical and visual background for each movement. The first day, Giorno 1 explores Corenno Plinio, a timeless medieval hamlet that clings to the eastern shore of the lake, crowned by its castle, stone stairways, and ancient walls… Here the movement opens with “lake waters lapping the pebbled shore,” and is succeeded by a scherzo which depicts the “sun dancing” on the lake. A brazen passage suggests the numerous battles fought here by the Lombards, then some windsurfers drift by; finally, quiet is restored in the late afternoon. The long Giorno 2 meditates on the Abbazia di Santa Maria di Piona. It opens with a “Lark Ascending” violin solo, based on a setting of the Agnus Dei. Prayerful music follows, but suddenly it is a question of “Ring out, wild Bells.” What a change of mood. The monks’ prayer is then resumed. The final Giorno is a fantasy about the Villa de Vecchi. This abandoned Lombard mansion is steeped in legend - eclectic 19th‑century architecture, vanished grandeur, graffiti-covered walls, whispered tragedies, occult rumours and ghost‑lore - its crumbling halls drawing seekers of mystery and decay. Dubery’s “take” on all this is almost indescribable- there are shrieks, dripping water, and recollections of children at play in happier days, all expounded in a sometimes-minimalistic, at times dissonant, style. Highly charged and melodramatic is the best description of this movement which brings this remarkable piano trio to a satisfying conclusion. Irrespective of whether the listener observes this “programme,” this is attractive, impressive music that can easily stand on its own feet.

David Dubery (b.1948) is a South‑African‑born British composer, pianist, and vocal coach whose works fuse lyrical clarity with a strong feel for landscape and narrative. Based in Lancashire since 1961, he studied at the Northern School of Music in Manchester between 1964 and 1972, including a post-graduate year. He then built a career as performer, teacher, and collaborator. His output spans songs, chamber music, and characterful scores for woodwind, often inspired by poetry and shaped by his experience working with singers and instrumentalists.

All the performances are sympathetic and technically assured, providing a worthy account of this remarkable chamber music.

The liner notes are produced by David Dubery. They provide an entertaining and informative discussion of all the pieces. Included are biographical notes on the composer and the performers.

This is an attractive disc that features lovely, lyrical, and interesting music, which clearly comes from the heart. Each of these works should be championed in the recital room.

Track Listing:
David Dubery (b.1948)
Chimera: for clarinet and piano (1984, rev.2016, 2021, 2024)
Sonatina: for clarinet and piano (1989/2016)
Music for an untold story: for flute and piano (1981)
Remembering Satie: for flute and piano (2024)
Hommage- in an olden style: for oboe and piano (2021)
Sonata for oboe and piano- Since dawn is breaking (1981-82)
Piano Trio Tre Giorni: for piano, violin and cello (2013-16)
Paul Janes (piano), Sergio Castelló López (clarinet), Stephane Rancourt (oboe), Amy Yule (flute), Zoe Beyers (violin), Simon Turner (cello)
rec. December 2024, Carole Nash Hall, Chetham’s School of Music, Manchester
Prima Facie PFCD256
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Norman Gilbert: Pastorale on Rockingham “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.”

Last Wednesday, was Ash Wednesday, which was the first day of Lent. It set the tone for all Lenten services for the coming weeks. The keynote of this season is penitence, with its notion of fasting and the Christian’s desire for reconciliation with God. Often the Commination Service is read with its call to repentance, and the Seven Penitential Psalms may be sung. The Collect of the Day prayed for “new and contrite hearts” – it is used throughout Lent. Bible readings for the day may have included Joel 2:12-17, which records the prophet’s call to fasting and repentance and the Gospel (Matt. 6:16-21) which gives our Lord's rules about fasting.

Written by Isaac Watts in 1707, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" revolutionised English worship by introducing personal, emotive "hymns of human composure." Based on Galatians 6:14, the text explores the paradox of the "wondrous" cross, transforming a symbol of execution into one of divine love. This hymn declares that all earthly pride pales before Christ’s sacrifice, concluding that such "love so amazing" claims the worshipper’s entire soul, life, and devotion.

In the United Kingdom, the hymn is usually linked to the tune "Rockingham." Adapted in 1790 by Edward Miller - a former flautist for Handel and organist at Doncaster Parish Church -the tune was named after his patron, the Marquis of Rockingham. Its noble "Long Metre" structure provides a foundation for Watts’ poetry, creating a meditation on sacrificial love that fits perfectly with the call to repentance on Ash Wednesday.

Norman Gilbert (1912–1975) was a British composer and educator whose work is characterised by craftsmanship, melodic appeal, and approachability. Born in Halifax and raised in Yorkshire, Gilbert developed his musicianship as a student of Sir Edward Bairstow at York Minster. His early career saw him serving as an organist in St. John's Church, Halifax and St. Paul's Church, Llandudno before his life was interrupted by military service during World War II. Following demob, he began a long and influential career in music education, most notably serving as the Music Master at Headlands Grammar School in Swindon for some 25 years.

His compositional style was rooted in a clear, English pastoral sensibility that favoured rhythmic vitality and singable lines over the complex abstractions of the mid-20th-century avant-garde. Gilbert possessed a particular gift for choral writing, frequently arranging traditional folk songs and religious texts with sophisticated yet approachable harmonies. This "common touch" made his music a staple for school choirs, amateur ensembles, and community festivals, ensuring that high-quality repertoire remained inclusive for musicians of all skill levels.

Gilbert was a respected contributor to the organ and piano repertoire. Among the earliest is Postlude in A (1938, J.B. Cramer), followed by the expansive Psalm Rhapsody (1953, Novello). He contributed an Epilogue for An Album of Praise (1958, OUP), and in 1960 issued Pieces for Four Seasons - a cycle embracing Fantasia for Christmas, Interlude for Lent, Paean for Easter, and Veni Creator for Whitsun (1959, Novello). His affinity with hymn tunes is evident in Sortie on “Laus Deo,” (1956, Novello). Later he returned to pastoral idiom with the Pastoral Prelude (1972, J.B. Cramer). Norman Gilbert died in Swindon in 1975.

The Pastorale on Rockingham is a meditation on this powerful, well-loved tune. It was published in 1956, included in Novello’s Festal Voluntaries series volume for Lent, Passiontide, and Palm Sunday.

Norman Gilbert’s pastoral style is ideal for the introspective mood of the Lent season. By evoking quiet reflection or landscape, the composition captures the themes of penitence, reliance on God, and the enduring faith inherent in the original hymn. The tune is presented with restrained clarity, adhering strictly to an unchanged triple‑meter framework in 3/4 time. The melody is sometimes hidden in the accompanying figurations, which are subject to subtle modulations. The score designates the tempo as Andante which reinforces its measured, flowing character. Registration on both manuals calls for 8' and 4' stops, using strings on the Swell and soft diapasons on the Great, all supported by a soft pedal. It is a pity that it has not gained a strong foothold in the standard organ repertoire,

Listen to Norman Gilbert’s Pastorale on Rockingham on YouTube, here. It was recorded by Dan Werning on his Hereford Cathedral (England) Father Willis Hauptwerk virtual organ.

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor: Orchestral Music

My introduction to Samuel Coleridge-Taylor was one of the Dream Dances which I found in a now forgotten (and lost) album of salon music. Then there was the sheet music of his Demande et Réponse, a piano transcription of a movement from the Petite Suite de Concert. The first disc I bought was the S.C.T. volume published by Marco Polo in their British Light Music series (8.223516, 1995). And herein lay a problem. Was he to be condemned as simply a composer of so-called “light music.” To be sure, the repertoire on this CD included the above-mentioned Petite Suite, the Othello Suite, the Gipsy Suite, the Four Characteristic Waltzes and the ‘Overture’ to his undoubted magnum opus, Hiawatha. But there was nothing here to confirm Charles Villiers Stanford’s opinion that Coleridge‑Taylor was one of his most gifted pupils and championed him with genuine admiration.

It was not until I heard the Violin Concerto on Lyrita (SRCD.317) and the Symphony in A minor on Classico (CLASSCD 684) that I saw a different side to the composer. Here was a man could be compared to Brahms, Dvořák, and even Mahler, placing him fairly and squarely in the symphonic/serious tradition. I read that his works were performed in major concert halls on both sides of the Atlantic, he was invited to the White House by Theodore Roosevelt – hardly the lot of a light music specialist.

Whether Ethiopia Saluting the Colours (March), op.51 (1902) is on a par with Elgar’s P&C Marches is a matter of taste. Perhaps it is as “good” as the less well-known ones, i.e. No.3 and No.5. Geoffrey Self (The Hiawatha Man: The Life and Work of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor Scolar Press 1995, p.130f) explains that it was dedicated to The Treble Clef Club which was a musical society specifically for Black women. The score is headed by a quotation from Walt Whitman referencing his poem of the same name about an enslaved woman during the American Civil War. Self (op. cit.) remarks that “Competent though it is, the tunes simply do not have Elgar’s panache and exuberance.”

The Solemn Prelude, op.40 for orchestra was produced for the 1899 Worcester Festival and was dedicated to a certain N. Kilburn esq. who also had the fortune of being the dedicatee of Elgar’s The Music Makers. The liner notes explain that The Solemn Prelude unfolds in a broad, imposing sonata design, carrying the same “nobilmente” character found in the expansive slow movements of Parry, Stanford, and Elgar. Its themes are strong and elegiac and the whole work is assured. It should be given more than an occasional airing in the concert hall.

Zara’s Earrings, op.7 (1894), subtitled A Moorish Ballad for soprano and orchestra, sets a text by the Scottish author and editor John Gibson Lockhart who wrote the multi-volume Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. The poem follows a young woman in Granada who drops the pearl earrings that her Moorish lover gave her as a pledge of fidelity, and she is consumed by the fear that he will see their loss as evidence of flirtation or betrayal. Imagining every doubt he might harbour, she despairs of justifying herself, yet resolves to tell him truthfully that she was thinking of him so deeply, her mind wandering to him across the sea, that the earrings slipped from her hand  - and that his love lies in her heart as surely as the pearls lie in the well. It is an enjoyable scena that displays the young composer’s “ease of technique, flow of ideas and richness of harmonic palette…” (Self, 1995, p.37)

The Idyll, op.44, is an expansion and rescoring of the second movement Lament from Coleridge-Taylor’s impressive Symphony in A minor. He has added trombones, tuba, and harp to the orchestral forces. It was produced for the 1901 Three Choirs Festival in Gloucester. The Times (12 September 1901, p.10) reviewer summed it up as “A single, very beautiful movement ... giving ample room for the composer’s love of original rhythm and rich and individual orchestral colouring...the little work is sure of popularity and is a worthy example of the clever young author’s work.”

Whenever I read of the musical title “Ballade,” I wonder what the tale or narrative behind it is. The definition suggests lyrical, dramatic qualities, as if telling a story without words. Often the piece unfolds like a tale, with contrasting episodes and a sense of emotional progress. In this way it is often the opposite of a Sonata or Rondo form. The liner notes do not suggest that there is any “programme” behind the Ballade for Violin and Orchestra in D minor, op.4 (1894), and indeed proposes that the work is written in an “abridged sonata structure in which the soloist and orchestra continually interact.” That said, after the “exposition” there are three “distinctive thematic departures” that certainly suggests a narrative or at the very least a conversation. The overall tenor of the Ballade is one of gloom, with only an occasional flash of light. The listener will be captivated by the deep introspection of the violin part. It is wonderfully played here by Ioana Petcu-Colan. Jonathan Woolf (review here) has noted that the competing version on the Avie label (AV2763) played by Curtis Stewart, is two minutes quicker. I have not heard this offering, but for me the pace of the present account seems perfect.

Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus has never been my favourite character from the Classical era; he is often remembered as capricious, theatrical, tyrannical, and self-indulgent. While popular legend suggests he "fiddled while Rome burned," this is unlikely; he was thirty-five miles away in Antium (according to Tacitus) when the fire began and he returned to the capital specifically to supervise relief efforts. Nevertheless, rumours persisted that he engineered the disaster to clear land for his "Golden House," a suspicion that led him to use the Christians as a convenient scapegoat for the fire.

Stephen Phillips’s 1906 episodic verse drama, Nero, softened some of this historical wickedness. Coleridge-Taylor’s Entr’acte 1, part of the incidental music for the play, is a full-blooded romance. Possibly portraying Nero’s formidable mother, Agrippina, or his stoic wife, Octavia, it opens with a glowing violin solo before shifting into a more dramatic tone. Throughout these pages, there is little sense of the ruthlessness or cruelty usually associated with Nero’s reign.

The final track on this new disc is the profoundly moving Romance in B major for string orchestra. The liner notes explain that this is a reworking of the “introspective second movement, a Largo affettuoso” from the Clarinet Quintet in F‑sharp minor, op.10, dating from 1895.The listener must echo the words of an unnamed critic in the Musical Times (August 1895, p.528), who rates the original (Largo Affettuoso) “as poetic and suggestive a movement as is to be found in English music.” It demands its place in the string orchestra repertoire.

The liner notes by musicologist Jeremy Dibble are most helpful giving a good introduction to the six pieces. Bolding of the works’ titles would have made it easier to locate and refer to whilst listening. There are resumes of the two soloists and the conductor Charles Peebles. The recording is excellent and complements the splendid playing of the Ulster Orchestra.

While not every rarity here matches Elgar’s distinctive élan, this collection successfully reinforces Coleridge-Taylor as a serious composer. The Ulster Orchestra provides a capable survey of this music, offering a useful perspective on an artist who has long outgrown the salon.

Track Listing:
Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875-1912)
Ethiopia Saluting the Colours (March), op.51 (1902)
Solemn Prelude, op.40 for orchestra (1899)
Zara’s Earrings op.7 for soprano and orchestra (1894)
Idyll, op.44 for orchestra (1901)
Ballade for Violin and Orchestra in D minor, op.4 (1894)
Entr’acte 1 from the incidental music to Nero, op.62 (1906)
Romance in B for string orchestra after the Clarinet Quintet, op.10: II Larghetto affettuoso (1895)
Rebecca Murphy (soprano), Ioana Petcu-Colan (violin)
Ulster Orchestra/Charles Peebles
rec. 16-17 June 2025, Foyle Foundation Hall, Belfast, UK
Text included.
SOMM Recordings SOMMCD0713

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