Sir Alexander Mackenzie (1847-1935): A Gibraltarian Anecdote.

One of the most remarkable pieces of concerted music composed by a Scotsman was Sir Alexander Mackenzie’s Pibroch: Suite for violin and orchestra. It was completed during 1889 whilst Mackenzie was on holiday in Braemar, Scotland. Pibroch was dedicated to the virtuosic Spanish violinist Pablo Sarasate (1844-1908) who gave the work’s premiere at the Leeds Festival. Mackenzie described the work as a “Scottish effusion” which seems as little modest. Certainly, the music was less inspired by classical models than presenting a rhapsody based on certain tropes derived from the folk music of Scotland. A Pibroch can be defined as: ‘A form of music for the Scottish bagpipes involving elaborate variations on a theme, typically of a martial or funerary character.’

Mackenzie’s Pibroch has three contrasting movements: Rhapsody, Caprice and a Dance. Use is made of an old 17^th century melody, ‘Leslie’s Lilt’ in the finale, whilst the Caprice is a set of variations on the tune ‘Three Guid Fellows.’

Now on to Gibraltar. Alexander Mackenzie relates this story on his autobiographical A Musician’s Narrative (London, Cassel & Co. Ltd, 1927). It is hard to establish an exact date for this holiday but based in internal evidence I would suggest around 1892.

“I took advantage of a much-needed leave of absence by a trip to Gibraltar, where an odd incident happened. A fellow-passenger and frequent visitor to the Rock – Mr Ernest A. Sandeman– kindly offered to act as guide during a long walk on the day of arrival. Returning at dusk (just at gun-fire, after which no appeal gains admittance), [1] I heard the distant tones of a violin, and in the hopes of entertainment proposed to trace them to their source.

Soon we stood before a high house, much like those on Edinburgh, in the upper storey of which a good performer was practising. “He is playing something of mine,” said I to my doubting friend. “Surely I ought to know my own Pibroch?”

To be listening to a quite recently published [2] and exceptionally difficult work on a dark night in so unlikely a spot as “Gib” had a weird effect upon me. After mounting many stairs, I soon found myself giving a lesson to an astonished and very promising young…native of the Rock, the son of a regimental band master whose name has now escaped me.

The short holiday was made more agreeable by trips into Spanish territory and other amenities consequent upon introductions to officers of the garrison, which would not have been mine but for the strange occurrence.”

Notes:
[1] Effectively the curfew. It was fired at dusk between 5.40 and 8.30 pm after which the Land Port was closed. Mackenzie need not have feared: the other gates remained open until 11 pm.
[2] Violin and piano version published by Novello in 1899.

Alexander Mackenzie’s Pibroch can be heard on Hyperion CDA66975. The companion work on this CD is the accomplished Violin Concerto (1885). Malcolm Stewart is the soloist, and the Scottish National Orchestra is conducted by Vernon Handley (Concerto) and David Davies (Pibroch).

It has also been recorded by Rachel Barton Pine with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra conducted by Alexander Platt. Other works include the well-known Scottish Fantasy, op.46 by Max Bruch, John Blackwood McEwen’s Scottish Rhapsody ‘Prince Charlie’ and Pablo de Sarasate’s remarkable Air écossais, op.34. (Cedille Records CDR90000 083)

Sir Alexander Campbell Mackenzie: Complete Music for Solo Piano Volume Three

In 1997, the Dutch pianist Ronald Brautigam released a remarkable CD entitled Essentially Scottish. It featured music by (amongst others) Ronald Stevenson, Erik Chisholm, Granville Bantock as well as the Scenes in the Scottish Highlands, op.23 by Alexander Mackenzie. The disc was reviewed by Colin Scott Sutherland for MusicWeb International (December 1998).  I bought this CD as soon as I saw it in HMV Oxford Street.  It was the Mackenzie that most impressed me. I had come into possession of the sheet music for the Scenes some years previously. Reading the score and picking out some melodies and phrases on the piano was of interest. Playing the Suite was beyond my Grade 6¼ ability. My overall impression was of an important work that demanded a recording or at least an occasional performance. Now, with the present CD, there are two stunning accounts committed to disc.

Scenes in the Scottish Highlands is, as Scott-Sutherland stated in his review, ‘an extended Suite of Lisztian proportions.’  In fact, many other composer’s might have entitled the work a Scottish Sonata. The opening movement has a wide sweep in much of its progress. The liner notes suggest that ‘the imposing opening theme is cut out of similar tartan to that of MacCunn’s Land of the Mountain and Flood overture.’ (MacCunn’s work was composed seven years after Mackenzie’s Suite).   The striding, tramping music is characterised by dotted quavers in both hands, with much use made of octaves. There are a few Scotch snaps (short followed by long notes) and grace notes provided to emphasise the Scottish connection. The middle section of this ternary (three part) ‘movement’ is more reflective and infinitely less warlike in mood.

Anyone who has ever stood on the banks of Loch Lomond with a ‘special friend’ will ‘get’ the second piece, ‘On the Loch’. This typically restrained ‘barcarolle’ or ‘nocturne’ creates a picture-perfect atmosphere of evening. The time signature here is 4/4 but the figuration of the left hand is largely in triplets. This may not technically be a barcarole, but the effect is the same. It is quiet, crepuscular, and drifting, with this latter quality highlighted by some gentle, but fascinating modulations. Howell notes that ‘a descending phrase here and there seems to recall the “were ever wont to gae” phrase from the famous song ‘The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond’. The music of John Field seems to inspire this ‘movement’.

All sadness, recollection and wistful ‘what might have beens’ are blown away with the final piece, ‘On the Heather’. This is a ‘gentle romp’ with lots of Scotch snaps, especially in the middle section. The ethos here is of a day trip to the heather clad hills and most certainly not a ‘yomp’ across them.

Whatever the impact of the scenery implied by the titles of each piece, Mackenzie has created a work that is impeccably constructed, replete with many attractive themes and melodies and is well-written for technically competent pianists. From a personal point of view, Scenes in the Scottish Highlands is an ideal evocation of the Scottish scenery, eclipsed only by the above-mentioned Overture by MacCunn and the Scottish works by Felix Mendelssohn.

The Scenes in the Scottish Highlands, op.23 were published by Novello in 1880. They are dedicated to the eminent German pianist Edward Dannreuther. 

The earliest work on this CD is the thoughtful ‘Nocturne’ seemingly composed sometime around or before 1861. Once again, this music owes more to the Irishman John Field rather than the Polish Frederick Chopin. The melody that dominates this piece is quite beautiful, with a considerable Scottish atmosphere about it. The piece ends with a passionate restatement of the tune, rather than drifting into the gloamin’. The fact that the ‘young’ composer possibly overdoes the repetition of melody, and may have something to learn about modulation, does not detract from this beautiful little work.

Equally ‘vintage’ is the inspiring set of Variations in E minor (c.1861). This is influenced by the sights and sounds of the Scottish landscape and songs, respectively. I love Christopher Howell’s description of the theme ‘as typically Scottish as any icy mountain burn.’ It may or may not be based on a given melody. After an introduction, the music progresses through ever more complicated and decorated variations. A little respite is given in the third, which is written in a melancholic minor key. It will bring a tear to the eye any sentimental Scot (like me!). The finale is a gentle romp, with some wayward modulations, and brings this bewitching piece to a solid conclusion. These Variations were composed whilst Mackenzie was living in Herriot Row in Edinburgh.

Morris Dance, written in 1899, looks ‘Furth o’ the border’ with its bouncy, almost Grainger-esque nod towards an English village green rather than a Highland clachan. In the same year, Mackenzie orchestrated the Morris Dance and paired it with a ‘Processional.’ The work carries no opus number, however Duncan James Barker, in his thesis (1999) about Mackenzie, notes that early printed copies of this work carried the subscription op.2, but this was later dropped in successive reprintings.

Six Song Transcriptions by Giuseppe Buonamici is a remarkable work by any measure. The first thing to think about is, who was Giuseppe Buonamici? He was an Italian pianist and composer. Born in Florence on 12 February 1846, he studied music with his uncle, Giuseppe Ceccherini and then with Hans von Bülow and Joseph Rheinberger at the Royal Bavarian Conservatory in Munich. On his return to Florence in 1873, he worked as a piano teacher and choral conductor.  Buonamici was later appointed professor of piano at the Instituto Musicale in Florence. As a concert pianist, he made several European tours performing in Germany, Italy, and England. He was highly regarded by Liszt. Another aspect of his musical achievement lay towards editing music. Buonamici published editions of Beethoven and Schubert. His own compositions included several piano pieces, a string quartet, and an overture. Giuseppe Buonamici died in his home city on 17 March 1914.

The relationship between Buonamici and Mackenzie should be the subject of a dissertation. It seems that whilst on a ‘rest-cure’ abroad, the Scotsman was recommended to Buonamici and George F Hatton, both pupils of von Bülow, and living in Florence. It is known that Mackenzie was friends with Liszt and was a member of the ‘Liszt Circle’ with the Hungarian composer having considerable influence on his harmonic and formal procedures.

Returning to the Six Song Transcriptions by Giuseppe Buonamici… Mackenzie wrote many songs over his career: few, if any, have been recorded. His choice of texts was wide-ranging and are (apparently) characterised by ‘their fresh simplicity’. I have never heard any of them. Buonamici has here provided a masterclass in song transcription in the Lisztian manner. Each piece is a flawless miniature, that is often moving in its effect. Of especial appeal to me was the subtle Scotticisms of ‘Phyllis at the Fair’ despite Burns’s poem being written in standard English. The final transcription ‘O Roaming Wind’ is quite simply stunning. They are over the top, to be sure, but as such are ‘guilty pleasures.’ I love them.

The titles, sources and dates of each arrangement are only alluded to in the CD liner notes. Full details are as follows:

·         ‘Phyllis the Fair’ (Robert Burns) from Eleven Songs, op.31, no.1, pub.1885.

·         ‘It was a time of Roses’ (Thomas Hood) from Eleven Songs, op.31, no.2, pub. 1885.

·         ‘What does little birdie say?’ (Alfred, Lord Tennyson) from Eleven Songs, op.31, no.7a, pub. 1885 (First version)

·         What does little birdie say?’ (Alfred, Lord Tennyson) from Eleven Songs, op.31, no.7b, pub. 1885 (Second version)

·         ‘A Birthday’ (Christina Rossetti) from Three Songs, op.17, no.3. 1878.

·         ‘O Roaming Wind’ [‘Heart-Sorrow’] (J. Logie Robertson) from Three Songs op.16, no.2, (1878)

Listeners may be encouraged to look up each poem to gain a greater appreciation of the musical impact. Unfortunately, I was unable to study the sheet music of Mackenzie’s original song versions. It is surely a project for Christopher Howell to examine the possibility of a recording of Alexander Mackenzie’s ‘Complete Songs’.  

The final work on this CD is Varying Moods. This was composed in 1921 and dedicated ‘To his friend Myra Hess’. Howell explains that at this time, Mackenzie had taken Hess ‘under his wing’ whilst she was studying at the Royal Academy of Music.  Varying Moods was to be his final piano work. The four pieces in this collection will strike the listener as being harmonically and stylistically in advance of his earlier piano music. ‘Revery’ (Lento (quasi recit.) is quite perfect. Howell suggests that this piece nods towards ‘early Scriabin’ or perhaps Nikolai Medtner. I wondered if Frank Bridge could have been a model too. The second piece is the will o’the wisp ‘Ariel’, which is musically matched to the character from Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Bridge is certainly an analogy here, especially his delightful The Dew Fairy from The Hour Glass Suite (1920).  The eponymous ‘Varying Moods’, is a little valse lente. It is sad and introverted in its progress. ‘Grotesque Dance’ is a huge surprise. The Victorian Mackenzie has fully engaged here with the ‘modern’ world. Howell is correct in likening this piece to Sergei Prokofiev. I was unable to find any details of this work’s premiere. I wonder if Myra Hess ever performed it…

I have previously reviewed Volume 1 and Volume 2 of Christopher Howell’s survey of the complete piano music of Alexander Mackenzie for these pages. As to the inspired and sympathetic playing, the high sound quality, and the excellent liner notes, I have little to add.  I have enjoyed immensely the pleasure and privilege of exploring the varied piano music of fellow-Scot Alexander Mackenzie. I was constantly surprised at just how pleasurable his piano music is. Any listener who enjoys the great European Romantic composers such as Wagner, Liszt, Schumann, and Chopin will find this present CD and the other two in the series of great interest. The listener needs to realise that Mackenzie is very much a European composer, rather than a British or even Scottish one. On the other hand, he often brings the numinous quality of his native land into his music (as well as a few Scottish musical devices and clichés) to make much of his music appeal to the Celt or Lowlander and draw them back over great distances of time and space to the Mother Country.

Track Listing:

Alexander Campbell MACKENZIE (1847-1935)

Scenes in the Scottish Highlands, op.23 (1880)

Variations in E minor (1861 or earlier)

Nocturne in A (1861 or earlier)

Morris Dance (1899)

Six Song Transcriptions by Giuseppe Buonamici (later than 1885)

Varying Moods, op.88 (1921)

Christopher Howell (piano)

rec. Studios of Griffa & Figli s.r.l., Milan, Italy, 14 February 2017, 26 October 2017

SHEVA COLLECTION SH251 

Sir Alexander Campbell Mackenzie Complete Music for Solo Piano Volume Two

Recently, I reviewed Volume 1 of Sir Alexander Campbell Mackenzie Complete Music for Solo Piano. I refer the reader to that review for details of the composer’s life and general housekeeping for the CD production. Volume 2 is equally rewarding as a recital and as a product. Once again, I am beholden to the excellent liner notes for much of the information I have presented in this review.

Volume 2 opens with the Rustic Scenes, op.9. It appears that these were written in 1876, although the published edition is dated 1897. No matter, these four Scenes are charming if not essential. Unfortunately, I was unable to find a score of them. As the liner notes suggest they are typical of the kind of character pieces that were popular in the late Victorian era. The titles are poetic rather than descriptive. The inevitable ‘Rustic Dance’ comes first. It seems that composers were obsessed with outwardly unsophisticated country folk in those days. It is a merry little number with just an occasional hint of melancholy. Mackenzie travels north for the ‘Forester’s Song’. This echoes the shielings of Argyll rather than the huts of Sherwood Forest. Here and there a little echo of Scottish music creeps into this happy tune. The undisputed masterwork here is the ‘Curfew Song’. This is heartfelt music that explores deeper waters than the ethos of the Suite implies. Once again, the listener can picture the Highlands. Finally, ‘Harvest Home’. I wonder how many compositions have been give this or a similar title over the years. Mackenzie’s ticks all the boxes with a good balance between riotous and prayerful thanksgiving.

The Five Pieces, op.13 (not op.15 as in the liner notes) were published in 1877. Once again, they would appear to be designed to satisfy the ‘salon music’ market. And there is nothing wrong with that! If only composers had always considered their listeners and performers rather than their egos… Howell notes that these are more technically competent that the earlier Rustic Scenes. I was only able to study the score for the opening ‘Impromptu’ and the ‘Saga’. The former is written in a well-constructed ternary (three part) form that is wistful in mood. The right-hand part is quite delicious in its pensive explorations. This is followed by a bouncy little gigue that has just a hint of the baroque about it. It is a perfect precursor for the most significant piece in this collection, the ‘Saga’. Here, Mackenzie alludes to Celtic sensibilities as well as presenting a ‘bleak Nordic tone that anticipates Sibelius.’ The middle section is way beyond the paygrade of the amateur pianist. Saga has an ascription from Longfellow’s The Saga of King Olaf which sets the tone. A reflective ‘La Coquette’ follows which is in complete contrast. This young lady is only just a little flirtatious, but clearly quite lovely. The concluding ‘Evening in the Fields’ is back to an imagined rustic simplicity. It seems to balance a lively dance with a meditation on the setting of the sun. Perhaps, the weakest of this set of Five Pieces?

Two early works are included which date back to the time when Alexander Mackenzie was studying in Germany. Neither have been published and are played here from the manuscript. The first is a sad and reflective little tone poem, Sehnsucht (Loneliness) whilst the second, Ungarisch. is a fair attempt at writing a Hungarian ‘Czardas’. Howell reminds the listener that the composer’s father died shortly after beginning his studies in Schwarzburg-Sondershausen. Sehnsucht naturally seems to reflect his loss.

Odds and Ends is by and large a good title for Mackenzie’s op.83. It is subtitled ‘Par ci, par là’ (Here and there). They were published during the Great War in 1916. The opening ‘Refrain’ curiously nods towards John Ireland with its ‘obsessive melancholy’ whilst the second, ‘High Spirits’ is wayward, without being reckless. The second ‘book’ opens with ‘Telling a Story’ that pushes its harmonic language into the 20^th century, however this tale could be about anything. The final ‘Odds and Ends’ is a ‘Pavane and Musette’. The liner notes suggest Cyril Scott as an exemplar. I am not so sure: I found it a little monotonous.

The final work on this CD is Mackenzie’s ‘most ambitious single piece’ the Fantasia, op.70. It was published in 1909 and dedicated to Philip L Agnew. Agnew was chairman of the Royal Academy of Music as well as being one of the proprietors of the long-running satirical magazine, Punch. Moreover, he had created an annual prize for pianoforte awarded at the RAM. Howell mentions that ‘notable recipients’ included Leo Livens, Michael Head and Clifford Curzon.

An argument could be made that the Fantasia is a ‘one-movement sonata.’ The structure would seem to suggest a sonata. Howell points out the powerful first theme that is both confident and optimistic. This is followed by a much more reticent ‘second subject’ which could be a ‘slow movement.’ Equally, the development section has all the effervescence of a ‘scherzo.’ The inevitable recapitulation of the two main themes may well suggest that it is cyclic. Listening to this music is both rewarding and inspiring. This must rate as one of the Mackenzie’s finest excursions for piano (or any instruments).

The liner notes conclude with an interesting conceit: ‘those in search of the major piano work Elgar never wrote, may well find much of what they are seeking in this free-flowing, eloquently romantic chef-d'oeuvre by Mackenzie.’ It is a sentiment that I could well come to agree with. I note that the Fantasia was completed in the lovely West Riding town of Ilkley.

The final instalment of this survey promises to be equally good in every way. It will feature the Scenes in the Scottish Highlands, op.23 (1880) which has been regarded as Alexander Mackenzie’s ‘Scottish’ Piano Sonata. Equally promising are the early Variations in E minor (c.1861).

Track Listing:

Alexander Campbell MACKENZIE (1847-1935)

Rustic Scenes, op.9 (1876)

Five Pieces, op.13 (1877)

Sehnsucht (1862)

Ungarisch (1862)

Odds and Ends – Par ci, par là, op.83 Books 1 & 2 (1916)

Fantasia, op.70 (1909)

Christopher Howell (piano)

rec. Studios of Griffa & Figli s.r.l., Milan, Italy, 14 February 2017, 21 June 2018.

Sheva Collection SH229 

Sir Alexander Campbell Mackenzie Complete Music for Solo Piano Volume One

This is the first volume of a three-part survey of the entire corpus of piano music written by the Scottish composer and academic Sir Alexander Mackenzie. It presents four attractive and interesting works, which are entertaining, always enjoyable, and well crafted.

Biographical details of the composer are widely available in reference books and websites. Modesty nearly, but not quite, prevents me from linking to a short introduction that I wrote last year. For the purpose of this review three things need to be recalled. Firstly, Alexander Mackenzie, along with Parry and Stanford is often seen as one of the pillars of the English Musical Renaissance, which began in the late 1800s. Secondly, despite his Scottish birth, he does not often indulge in out and out ‘tartanry’. There are naturally several exceptions to this, including the Pibroch Suite for violin and orchestra and the Scottish Piano Concerto. And there are the Burns Rhapsodies for orchestra, but even here his use of Scoticisms is typically subtle rather than overt. And finally, there is nothing avant-garde here. The great romantic composers of Wagner, Liszt and Schumann often infuse this music. In his piano works, Chopin is sometimes a model and every so often the listener will hear an echo (or is it anticipation) of Edward Elgar. Mackenzie is typically a European composer rather than a Scottish, or even British, national one.

Christopher Howell, in the liner notes, explains that the opening Six Compositions, op.20 (1879) were dedicated to a certain Miss May Ross Gillespie, whom, he imagines, was an accomplished amateur pianist. That said, these pieces are no cinch to play, despite being in the much derided ‘salon music’ genre. The opening ‘Hymnus’ has nothing fusty about it. It is a little song of praise that is wholly uplifting. The ‘Ritornello’ does as the title suggests and repeats the refrain in a pleasingly coquettish manner. The ‘Reminiscence’ is an example of Mackenzie’s understated use of a Celtic idiom. This is the most thoughtful movement in this these Compositions. The ‘Chasse aux Papillons Étude’ is a musically interesting little study that is hardly for beginners. I loved the ‘Reverie’ which looks forward to the composer’s ever popular Benedictus, originally written for violin and piano and subsequently orchestrated. The final ‘Dance’ is a vibrant little rondo. In one of the episodes Mackenzie has introduced a sly nod to his heritage: a few Scotch snaps and just the hint of a bagpipe drone. This is an altogether captivating set of pieces which gets this survey of Mackenzie’s piano music off to a great start.

If any work on this CD deserves a place in the repertoire of pianists, it is the ‘Trois Morceaux’ op.15 composed in 1878. Chopin is the obvious influence over the first two numbers. The ‘Valse Serieuse’ balances typically melancholic opening and closing sections with something a little more acerbic in the middle ‘eight’. This is followed by the heartbreakingly beautiful ‘Nocturne’ which is my favourite number on this CD. The ‘soaring’ theme is partnered with an almost unremitting triplet accompaniment. The cognoscenti would state that this music is wholly derivative: and they would be correct. But who cares? Mackenzie has created a perfect nocturnal mood that inspires and moves the listener. It is a little bit of heaven. If Classic FM gave it a chance it could become a national favourite. Eulogising over!

Robert Schumann is the inspiration for the ‘Ballade’. There is no indication as to what the underlying ‘story’ may have been. This three-part work opens with a typically Schumann-esque ‘moto perpetuo’ written in a rapid 6/8-time signature. The middle section is in complete contrast. Here Mackenzie seems once again to recall his Scottish background. For a moment we are conscious of the hills of heather and the tales of the Highlands. Then the ‘toccata’ returns to complete what is clearly a ballad of both joy and sadness.

Jottings (in two books) were composed for the educational market in 1916. Howell explains that they were dedicated to ‘his [Mackenzie’s] friend Samuel Aitken’, who had been ‘a vigorous if sometimes abrasive secretary to the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music in the later 1890s’. The titles of these six Jottings owe much to the prevailing pastoralism: ‘On the Village Green’, ‘Gossiping’, ‘Drums and Trumpets’, ‘Humours,’ ‘A Game in the Garden’ and the final ‘“Heave Ho!” - Sea Song’. My favourite number is this modal finale. Like a lot of ‘teaching pieces’ Mackenzie is not in the least patronising towards the tyro. He seems to have put as much care into these delightful miniatures as in his major works. They are fun and present portraits of a world no longer relevant to ‘the wiser youngsters of today.’ (Robert Louis Stevenson). I hope that one day the score of this little collection is made available for the less-young pianist like myself! I would enjoy playing them.

The most substantial essay on this disc is the English Air with Variations, op.81. This was composed in 1915. The theme has not been identified. It is possible that the composer has made a ‘pastiche’ that ticks all the boxes for an ‘English Air’. This is a major set of variations, that explores a wide range of pianistic formulae. The most remarkable is the fourth. Here Mackenzie has created a passage of ‘pungent dissonances’ that seem quite out of character for a high-Victorian composer. Yet somehow, they feel right at this point in the work’s progress. Listeners will note the almost Elgarian sonorities of the penultimate ‘lento.’ The finale is massive and musically complex. This is an incredibly enjoyable and satisfying set of variations for piano that has seldom been excelled by any British composer in any age. It deserves a secure niche in the repertoire of all pianists who love the music of our country.

The liner notes are always extremely important in any CD exploring music that has been largely unheard for several generations. Christopher Howell has provided a model example. There are some succinct biographical details which present the personality of the composer as well as some interesting details about his personal circumstances and his wide-ranging music achievement. The introduction to the piano works is essential reading which allows the listener to develop a paradigm for understanding this music. And finally, there are short but concise discussions about each work. This is extremely useful, as there is virtually nothing else in critical literature that features this information. I concede that there may well be several contemporary reviews hiding away in archives, but as of now, there is no essay or dissertation entitled The Piano Music of Alexander Mackenzie. Finally, there are the usual notes about the performer. My only (minor) concern is that the cover is just a wee bit drab

It should be noted that Murray McLachan recorded a small selection of Mackenzie’s piano music on The Scottish Romantics (DivineArt 2-5003). It was reviewed here and here. I understand that this CD has been deleted.

I was impressed by the sound quality of this CD which emphasises the excellent tone of the piano. Howell has given all four works (and their several parts) an ideal recital. Certainly, following the sheet music (where possible) revealed an accurate and committed account.

I look forward to reviewing the remaining two volumes in this series of Mackenzie’s piano music. Based on this present CD, I imagine that the ‘journey of exploration’ of this little kent repertoire will be equally enjoyable and satisfactory. 

Track Listing:

Alexander Campbell MACKENZIE (1847-1935)

Six Compositions, op.20 (1879

Trois Morceaux, op.15 (1877)

Jottings – 6 Cheerful Little Pieces (1916) Books 1 and 2 (1916)

English Air with Variations, op.81 (1915)

Christopher Howell (piano)

rec. Studios of Griffa & Figli s.r.l., Milan, Italy, 11 February 2016, 14 February 2017

Sheva Collection SH221

‘A Day in My Life’ by Sir Alexander Mackenzie in The Tatler

On 20 February 1907 The Tatler published a short piece written by Sir Alexander Mackenzie describing a ‘typical’ day in his life at this time. Clearly not every day was like, but it gives a good idea as to what life was like as Principal of the Royal College of Music. Clearly his duties involved both administration, teaching and conducting. And there was much work to be undertaken in furthering his career as a composer and conductor. Like all these kinds of ‘personal’ stories, little, if anything, is said about extra-curricular activities. I guess that on many days there was no time for anything other than sleep.

The latter half of the this piece refers to Canada from where Alexander Mackenzie had recently returned after a demanding tour.

A Brief Biographical Note: Alexander Campbell Mackenzie (b Edinburgh, 22 Aug 1847; d London, 28 April 1935) was a Scottish composer, who was educated at the Royal Academy of Music, (of which he was later to become the Principal) He had further studies in Germany, where he made the acquaintance of Franz Liszt. (Unlike most of his English contemporaries he was brought up to music as a fiddler and an orchestral player rather than as an organist.)

He was an indefatigable organiser both in London and in Scotland and an adventurous conductor. As a composer he endeavoured to blend Scottish nationalism, with advanced German romantic expression. Examples of this fusion are The Cotter's Saturday Night, to a text by Robert Burns, set for chorus and orchestra, his Scottish Rhapsodies and his Pibroch suite for violin). He wrote oratorios which were perhaps less successful, musically and technically than his orchestral pieces, good deal of effective theatre music. He also composed two operas (The Cricket on the Hearth, 1902, and The Eve of St. John, 1924) and much chamber music. Among this is a well worth playing Pianoforte Quintet in E flat Op. 11.

‘A Day in My Life’ by Sir Alexander Mackenzie

A Divided Day

For many years past I have divided my days into two sections - the portion 1 devote to my private work and the portion I give to fulfilling my public responsibilities. The morning hours I reserve to myself sacredly for composition or such musical work without which I am neither content nor happy. Given some leisure for this I am able to approach my public duties with zest and energy, but before doing so 1 generally manage to have three or four hours at my own desk.

Conducting the Students' Orchestra.

For the rest here is a typical account of my average ‘daily day.’ I will suppose the day to be one on which I conduct the large students' orchestra, a work to which I devote three hours, from two to five o'clock. During that period, I hear our prominent pupils perform and sing, and as musical conductor I thus get to know their individual gifts and capabilities very intimately.

Trying the Compositions of Students.

On these days I sometimes try over such manuscript compositions which have been passed for trial by the professors of the academy with a view to giving them a public hearing at our concerts. These compositions 1 should perhaps explain have been written by our students, but before I rehearse them with our band they must be passed by our professors, otherwise I should probably have too many immature efforts submitted to me.

Concert Programme Pieces.

Of course, I do not decide on giving a public hearing to every composition. Only the best of these manuscripts ultimately figure on our concert programmes, and many of the most prominent of our younger composers have received their baptism of fire under these conditions.

Wholesome Criticism.

Sometimes weird, melancholy, and morbid enough music comes before me, and a mild joke on my part at such times has frequently resulted in promoting a healthier and brighter tone in the future efforts of its writer and probably saved him from perhaps less good-humoured chastenings at the hands of others. But my young friends are, I am glad to think, very tolerant of criticism.

Reading at Sight.

Invariably some time is spent in the study of the most recent orchestral works so that both students and conductor keep up continued acquaintance with the latest phases of the art, and the ready manner in which very difficult music is read prima vista is sometimes astonishing.

Seeing New Pupils.

Rehearsals over I adjourn to my room to keep appointments with students, parents, and others. At this time of the year new pupils are continually coming to join the academy, and 1 find half-a-dozen or more waiting to see me. Students come to us from all parts of the world, even from Germany.

A Difficult Duty.

I hear each intending pupil play or sing and find out generally how far advanced his or her musical education may be before deciding on the particular professor under whom the pupil shall study. To do this conscientiously and without undue waste of time requires quick thinking, and anyone who has not (like Mr. H. G. Wells) acquired the ‘prophetic habit’ would naturally hesitate before answering some of the anxious questions regarding the future and such like problems which are not infrequently put to me on these occasions.

Various Interviews.

During this period of the day's work I may be called upon to give a hurried piece of advice or encouragement to a student upon some particular point in his or her studies, or perhaps to see one of my colleagues who wishes to consult me. Then there are the ex-students who present themselves for final examination and a certificate on leaving the R.A.M.

Still More Work.

At half-past six I have probably got through all my interviews, but not all the correspondence, which has to be attended to before I can consider myself free. Subsequently I have not infrequently to move on to the offices of the Associated Board of the Royal Academy and Royal College of Music.

The Board of the R.A.M.

The board constantly sits until eight o'clock discussing the details of examinations and other matters not artistically exciting but, on the contrary, uncommonly dry work; happily, my colleagues are distinguished musicians and intimate friends, and so somewhere towards nine p.m. my day's work ends.

My Busiest Day.

To be overcrowded with invitations to work is, I fear, the inevitable portion of the o'er-willing horse, and a great deal more falls to my share than I could mention in a short article of this character. I was recently asked what was the busiest day I ever put in. Well, 1 think that day was one on which 1 began at 9.30 a.m. with an orchestral rehearsal of two hours and a half in London, Ontario.

Travelling, Speaking, Rehearsing, Conducting, and Banqueting.

We then proceeded by special train to Woodstock; there, after speaking at a public luncheon of which I had no time to partake, I hurriedly rehearsed the local choir in sight of the incoming audience; then conducted an afternoon concert and returned to London [Ontario] in time for the evening concert; The day ended with another banquet given by the mayor.

Upheld by the Climate.

All this did not prevent me from being at my post at an early rehearsal in Toronto on the following morning. I do not think I could possibly have got through such a fatiguing day's work in this country, but the Canadian climate is wonderfully bracing and invigorating: At all events I found it to be so.

Another Canadian Experience.

In two or three of the smaller Canadian towns I conducted the first orchestral concerts ever given, and as these entertainments took place in theatres I had to direct in the ‘house’ between the third and fourth row of stalls surrounded by the audience. Encores were always numerous enough, but on one occasion the enthusiasm was so compelling that I was obliged to play - with the exception of a short choral work - every item in the programme twice over. Truly the goodwill of the listeners helped my staying powers amazingly. A.C.M.

The Tatler - Wednesday 20 February 1907

Introducing Sir Alexander Campbell Mackenzie (1847-1935): Scottish Composer, Musician and Academic

Introduction: Alexander Campbell Mackenzie is one of three composers who were instrumental in creating a renaissance of Scottish music. The other two were Hamish McCunn and John Blackwood McEwen. Naturally, there have been many others who have contributed to this revival, from the late-Victorian period until the present day. On a wider scale, Mackenzie, along with Sir Charles Hubert Hastings Parry and Sir Charles Villiers Stanford was associated with the renewal of British music in the second half of the 19th century

Mackenzie is largely forgotten, at least by today’s concertgoers, although he does retain a foothold in the catalogues of recorded music. Where he is recalled, it is usually for his works that are infused with the mood of Scotland – Burns Rhapsody, Piano Concerto and Pibroch Suite. That does not mean he indulges in Tartan sentimentality. His romantic sounding music owes a huge debt to Franz Liszt and Richard Wagner, neither of whom were parochial, Mackenzie’s operas and dramatic cantatas are now forgotten, apart from the occasional revival. One sign of hope for his standing as a cosmopolitan European/Scottish composer in the 21st century is the forthcoming recording of the entire corpus of piano music by Christopher Howell.

Brief Biography of Alexander Campbell Mackenzie:

• Born at 22 Nelson Street, Edinburgh on 22 August 1847.
• Aged only ten years old he went to Germany to school at Schwarzburg-Sondershausen in the Central German province of Thuringia. There he studied violin with K.W. Ulrich and theory with Eduard Stein.
• In 1862 he continued studies at the Royal Academy of Music in London after gaining a King’s Scholarship. He studied violin there with Prosper Stainton and composition with Charles Lucas.
• Returning to Edinburgh in 1865 he worked as a violinist and conductor.
• During 1874, Mackenzie married Mary Malina Burnside. They had one daughter, Mary.
• In 1881 he removed to Florence where he stayed for seven years. During this period, he befriended Franz Liszt.
• On 22 February 1888, Alexander Mackenzie was appointed principle of the Royal Academy of Music, succeeding the late George Macfarren. Mackenzie moved to London, where he stayed for the remainder of his life.
• He played a key role in establishing the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music in 1889.
• Important works composed during the 1880/90s included the cantatas The Bride (1881) and Jason (1882); the operas Colomba (1883) and The Troubadour (1886); a ‘Scottish’ Concerto for piano (1897); three Scottish rhapsodies; and an overture, Britannia (1894).
• He assumed role of Principal Conductor of the Royal Philharmonic Society during 1892.
• In 1894 Alexander Mackenzie gave the first British performance of Tchaikovsky's Symphony No.6 ‘Pathetique’ on 28 February1894.
• He was knighted by Queen Victoria in 1895 and latterly appointed KCVO (Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order) by King George V in 1922.
• In 1903 Mackenzie went on a ‘fact-finding’ visit to Canada to investigate Canadian folksong. This resulted in his orchestral Canadian Rhapsody (1905)
• He resigned as principal of the RAM during 1924 and was succeeded by fellow-Scottish composer John Blackwood McEwen.
• In 1927 his autobiography, A Musician's Narrative was published.
• Alexander Campbell Mackenzie died on 28 April 1935 at his home at 20 Taviton Street, Gordon Square, London on 28 April 1935.

Six Key Works:

These works are all available on CD or download. There are several other works that would appear to demand interest and possible professional recording.

• Concerto for piano, op.55 ‘Scottish’
• Quartet for Piano and Strings in E flat major, op. 11
• Britannia Overture
• Burns’ Second Scottish Rhapsody
• Violin Concerto in C sharp minor, op.32
• Pibroch Suite for violin and orchestra, op.42

Brief Bibliography:

Mackenzie, Sir Alexander Campbell, A Musician's Narrative (Cassell and Co., London, 1927).

Farmer, Henry George, A History of Music in Scotland (Hinrichsen, London 1947)

Purser, John, Scotland’s Music: A History of the Traditional and Classical Music of Scotland from Early Times to the Present Day (Mainstream Publishing, Edinburgh,1992)

If you can only listen to two CDs of Alexander Campbell Mackenzie’s music:

Mackenzie, Alexander Campbell, Violin Concerto, Pibroch Suite for violin and orchestra, Malcolm Stewart (violin), Royal Scottish National Orchestra/Vernon Handley (Concerto); David Davies (Pibroch), Hyperion CDA66975, 1998.

Mackenzie, Alexander Campbell, Overture: The Cricket on the Hearth, op.62, Twelfth Night: incidental music, op.40, Benedictus for orchestra, op.37, no.3, Burns ‘Second Scotch Rhapsody’, op24, Coriolanus: incidental music, op.61, BBC Scottish Symphony/Martyn Brabbins, Hyperion CDA66764, 1995

And finally, if you have only time to hear one work:

This must be the Scottish Concerto for piano and orchestra. This was composed in 1897 for performance by Paderewski. There is no doubt about the ‘Scottish’ antecedents of this work with ‘well-known’ tunes in each movement. Yet ,they are seen through prism of virtuosity and all the appurtenances of a large and powerful late romantic piano concerto. The concerto begins with a strong ‘allegro maestoso’ balanced by a heart-felt second subject.  The core of the work is the gorgeous slow movement that musicologist John Purser has described as ‘ardent, and yet deeply nostalgic.’ It is a love song (probably unrequited) for the beloved seen through the eyes of the Scottish landscape. All is put to rights in the final movement, which is a romping reel, from start to finish.

The Scottish [Piano] Concerto was released on Hyperion CDA67023 in 1998. The disc included fellow Scot (by adoption, born in Berkshire) Donald Tovey’s Piano Concerto in A major, op.15 (1903). Marytn Brabbins conducted the BBC Scottish Symphony, with Steven Osborne as soloist in both works.

Sir Alexander Mackenzie (1847-1935): Benedictus Op.37 No.3 (1888)

I was delighted to hear Sir Alexander Mackenzie's fine and moving orchestral work Benedictus on Classic FM on Sunday morning. This is a work that out Elgar's Elgar in many ways. I remember someone telling me that it reminded them of Mahler. A few years ago I wrote a short programme note for the English Music Festival for this work. I republish this below.

Alexander Mackenzie's Benedictus for full orchestra can be heard on Hyperion CDA66764 It also features on YouTube.

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Even the most superficial hearing of Alexander Mackenzie’s Benedictus for orchestra will surely reveal a work that challenges the depth and beauty of many a better known piece by Sir Edward Elgar. Yet the historical reality is that it is more likely that it was Mackenzie who influenced Elgar than the other way around!
Whilst on an extended furlough in Italy, Mackenzie had composed this work as one of a series of six pieces for violin and piano. The third movement had initially been called Benedicite - which translated loosely means ‘Bless you!’ The original set of pieces was premiered by Lady Hallé.
In the same year he made an arrangement of this piece for small orchestra – omitting the heavy brass. For the orchestral transcription, he changed the title to Benedictus – which simply means ‘Blessed.’ Typically, the main tune is delivered by the first and second violins with the other instruments being used with subtlety and effect. It is the beguiling main theme that surely makes this work both deeply moving and memorable.
Sir Henry Wood was impressed with this work – he had introduced it into the 1895 Promenade concert season. Wood refers to it as “a charming piece… the delicate colour effects of the woodwind accompanying a string melody reveal a master hand.” I think that listeners nowadays would tend to hear it as being less charming and more profound- but would still recognise the competence of the composer.
Mackenzie told the story that “last year, during the Jubilee (Queen Victoria) festivities, a gentleman asked to be introduced to me, and on shaking hands with me he said ‘I want to know you: our band plays your Benedictus twice a week at Hong Kong!’ ” John Purser tells us that it was in fact the local Police Band that had this enthusiasm for the composer’s piece!
Sir Alexander Mackenzie wrote a vast amount of music including seven operas, more than a dozen large scale choral works, many tone poems, songs and piano pieces. Yet of all the works that he produced the Benedictus has remained the best known – at least with concertgoers who are aware of his name.

With thanks to the English Music Festival where this was first published as a programme note in 2008