Myer Fredman conducts four Havergal Brian Symphonies on Hertitage

This new CD from Heritage Records is the fifth installment of its ongoing cycle of archival recordings of Havergal Brian’s music. Here, the 8th, 9th, 22nd and 24th symphonies are heard, featuring the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and the London Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of Myer Fredman. The webpage explains that the audio is derived from the original BBC master tapes, “sensitively remastered” by sound engineer Harvey Summers. It should be mentioned that these recordings circulated for many years as “bootleg” LPs. 

Myer Fredman (1932-2014) was a British born conductor. For much of his career he worked with the Glyndebourne Festival and the Glyndebourne Touring Opera. During the 1970s Fredman moved to Australia, where he was involved with the State Opera of South Australia and later Opera Australia. Latterly he lived in Hobart, where he taught at the University of Tasmania.  I first came across his achievement on the Lyrita recordings of Bax's 1st and 2nd Symphonies (SRCS53 and 54). His relationship with Brian began in the early 1970s when he made recordings of the 6^th and the 16^th symphonies, also for Lyrita (SRCS67). Other British composers that benefited from his attention included Britten, Delius, Vaughan Williams, Robert Still and Edmund Rubbra. For several years he was a Vice-President of the Havergal Brian Society.

The liner notes explain that Fredman met and corresponded with the composer when he was living at Shoreham-by-Sea. It states that he had a great sympathy towards his music, particularly in evaluating each symphony’s overarching structure and in “clarifying Brian’s sometimes complex orchestral textures.”

The inspiration for the gloomy Symphony No.8 in B flat major (1949) was Goethe’s “macabre ballad” Die Braut von Korinth (The Bride of Corinth) which majors on sex, ghosts, vampirism, and generally anti-Christian rhetoric. The symphony is played in three continuous sections, forming a single movement. Structurally, it is unorthodox. It is really a collection of “musical panels’ which cohere into a satisfying unity. Much of the progress is slow with only the occasional increase in tempo. There is a dirge like feel with much of this music, which is by turns gloomy, sometimes compelling, and occasionally quite beautiful. Midway, the Symphony appears to come to a dead stop, with minimal sound, before slowly building up into a macabre dance, and then collapsing into an almost romantic nocturne. This latter mood seems to deny the work’s background plot. Fredman creates a fine balance been the inevitable horror and a certain positive attractiveness.

Symphony No.8 uses a large orchestra including a glockenspiel and xylophone. Lasting for 22 minutes, the force of this symphony is concentrated. It was first heard in a studio broadcast made on 1 and 2 February 1954, by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, under Sir Adrian Boult. The liner notes remind the reader that this was the first time a Brian symphony had been performed (despite the composer having written seven previously). 

Havergal Brian completed his Symphony No.9 during November 1951. It was not performed until Norman Del Mar and the London Symphony Orchestra gave a live BBC studio performance broadcast on the Third Programme on 22 March 1958.  This work is written in three movements, played without a break. The progress of the symphony is from “Sturm und Drang – storm and stress - through to ultimate victory. There are many fascinating byways where there is relaxation and introspection before the “bombastic” coda of the final Allegro moderato brings the symphony to a triumphant conclusion, complete with bells and organ. This musical “journey” would seem to reflect Brian’s complex “inner psychological argument.”

Notwithstanding the seemingly conventional symphonic structure, there are times when the listener feels that they are hearing a series of connected episodes. This is, quite naturally, the case in the finale, which is a good, old fashioned, rondo. I guess that it is simply lack of familiarity that makes us struggle to hear the underlying unity.

Despite its seemingly diminutive size, the Symphony No.22 Sinfonia Brevis packs a punch. The liner notes suggests that its power is the result of “extreme compression, rather than miniaturization.” Lasting less than ten minutes, the two-movements explore considerable depths of emotion and concern. Malcolm Macdonald felt that it evoked “a sense of strange landscapes and rumours of war.” Certainly, being finished between 1964 and 1965 it represents a view of the then recently passed Cuban Missile Crisis, the ongoing Cold War, and the intensification of the Vietnam War. The opening movement, Maestoso e ritmico, immediately engages the listener in “boiling conflict.”  The booklet points out the “upward surging figure heard in the bass” heard in the opening bars, which goes on to dominate much of the proceedings. There is some relaxation as this movement progresses, but this is short lived. Without a break, the Tempo di marcia e ritmico-Adagio begins to expound an ominous march, which eventually gives way to an almost romantic violin solo. Material from the work’s opening pages returns before it closes with a “bleak coda” suggesting only a temporary halt in the hostilities.

John Pickard indicates that the “ghosts haunting the previous two symphonies have evidently been laid to rest” in the Symphony No.24 in D major, written in 1964. The reason for this assumption is, in his opinion, that “this work is as bright and optimistic as they were dark and troubled.” I am not sure that this is the whole story. For me, there is much in the flamboyant and energetic “victory parade” that is confident, but there is also something almost sarcastic in these pages. Much of the following development seems to me to be gloomy and reflective.

The entire symphony is designed as a single movement, although this is divided into three sections, with connecting and contrasting episodes. There is much “beauty, warmth and tenderness” in the concluding Adagio section. Here it begins to discover hope and triumph. But even in the final bars there is an occasional edge that is only sublimated in the last chord.

The extensive, informative liner notes are authored by composer and Havergal Brian authority, John Pickard.

As noted above, these transfers have been remastered from the original tapes. The resulting sound quality is outstanding. It is one of the signs of getting old that recordings made in the early 1970s seem quite recent. The fact is, that these are half a century old, and of remarkable quality. The performances are well-wrought. Brian’s music is a fusion of romantic tropes, dissonance, radical formal constructs, nods towards classical structures and the development of continual variation. His orchestration ranges from the highly nuanced to the downright unwieldy. The impact of his music can look backward in time, and also, forward. Myer Fredman has absorbed all these facets producing what are superb and possibly definitive recordings.

Track Listing
Havergal Brian (1876-1972)
Symphony No. 8 in B-Flat Minor (1949)
Symphony No. 9 in A Minor (1951)
Symphony No. 22 – Symphonia Brevis (1964-65)
Symphony No. 24 in D Major (1964)
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra/Myer Fredman (Nos.8, 9, and 22); London Philharmonic Orchestra/Myer Fredman (No.24)
rec. 27 June 1971 (No.8); 28 March 1971 (No.9 and No.22); 1 April 1973 (No.24)
Heritage HTGCD 146

Havergal Brian: Symphonies No.3 and No17 on the Heritage Label

The recordings of these two symphonies date back to the mid-seventies. The Heritage website suggests that these are the “First Commercial Release” of these works. This is slightly misleading. In my understanding these “off-air” recordings were issued as “bootleg” albums back in the day. According to the Havergal Brian website, these were pirate recordings…that would be illegal in the UK.” The Symphony No.3 appeared on Aries LP 1617, the band credited was the “Lisbon Conservatory Orchestra”, conductor “Peter Michaels.” The reality was that this was taken from a BBC Radio 3 concert broadcast on 18 October 1974, with the artists noted in the heading above. The same applies to Brian’s Symphony No.17. This was originally credited to the fictitious, but convincingly named, “Hamburg Philharmonic Orchestra” conducted by “Horst Werner.” It was issued in 1976, on a triple album, coupled with the Symphonies 13, 15, 20, 24 and 26. (Aries LP 3601). The other outfit on this “pirated” album were the equally imaginary “Edinburgh Youth Symphony,” conducted by “John Freedman.” The first broadcast of Brian’s Symphony No.17 was on BBC Radio 3 on 14 May 1978. 

So, what we are hearing on this CD is a transfer of the BBC broadcast performances of two of Brian symphonies. As the liner notes state, “they lack the frisson of a public performance or the polish of a commercial studio recording (rehearsal time of these broadcasts invariably being restricted and separate takes almost non-existent.” This is a case of damning themselves with faint praise. These are both excellent performances and recordings.

Havergal Brian’s symphonic achievement is amazing, whatever way you look at it. The short Symphony No.17 was written during 1960/61. The composer was a mere 84 years old. Looking at the catalogue of his music shows that Brian had completed Symphonies 14 to 16 in the previous year. Despite his age, there would be another 15 examples to go before he put down his pen: Symphonies No.31 and the final essay, No. 32 were completed as late as 1968.

Overall, Brian’s Symphony No.3 is a clever balance between the composer’s ubiquitous march music and a keen sense of lyricism. Here and there a pastoral idiom is evoked, and in the final movement there is much Elgarian “nobility.” Musical material seems to overflow, with innovative ideas taken up, used, and then discarded. The Symphony is conceived in four standard movements, including sonata form in the first, a long and involved slow movement, an eccentric (but effective) scherzo, and a huge in impact, but short in duration, tentative, finale.

This long work, only beaten in duration by Brian’s Gothic Symphony, makes use of a large orchestra. It was originally meant to be a piano concerto - or a two-piano concerto. Brian has retained these instruments in the score. It has been said that “the music seems to be struggling for unity and cohesion against counterforces trying to blow it apart.” Whether the composer succeeds in creating accord, is up to the listener to decide.

Symphony No. 17 is written in a single movement, although it comes as no surprise that it is cast in three parts. The listener will note the imbalance between the length of each “section.” For example the elusive and enigmatic “finale,” Allegro con brio, is barely two minutes long. The opening section, Adagio-Allegro moderato is about eight minutes, and the “slow movement” Lento poco just over three. None of this bothers me. This is a successful Symphony that is full of interest and conflicting emotion. It is characterised by contrast between aggression, struggle and pensive interludes. The writing for the brass section is particularly effective.

Malcolm MacDonald gave an excellent précis of this work which is worth quoting in full: - “[This] is one of Brian’s most abstract and elliptical utterances: there are fleeting hints of Romantic imagery and mysterious hymnody, but in general it might be considered as a species of polyphonic fantasia in several clearly-defined sections, a kind of orchestral equivalent...to the big keyboard toccatas of Bach...”

I have not had the opportunity to hear the original “unauthorised” LPs of these two Symphonies, so I can only imagine what the sound quality and packaging may have been like. Likewise, I do not recall hearing the original broadcasts either. The transfers have been made from the original BBC tapes. For me, they are superb and bring these two important recordings to life.

The booklet explains that the present conductor, Stanley Pope (1916-95), had a long-standing association with Havergal Brian’s music. This relationship dated from 1958, when he conducted the Philharmonia Orchestra in the world premiere of the Symphony No.10 on the BBC Third Programme.

The liner notes by John Pickard are excellent. It is essay length and provides massive amounts of commentary and non-technical analysis. They have been specially written for this new release, the old sleeve notes from the Aries LPs having been wisely abandoned. Included is a short biography of Stanley Pope.

Finally, I would not like to judge Stanley Pope’s take on these two symphonies against Lionel Friend and the BBC Symphony Orchestra on the Hyperion label (CDH55029) (No.3) and the RTE National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Adrian Leaper (Naxos 8.572020) (No.17). All seem to me to be valid, dramatic and satisfying performances of two essential works. Havergal Brian enthusiasts will insist on owning all these recordings.

Looking at the list of “bootlegs” or “unauthorised recordings” listed on the Havergal Brian Website, there are plenty of other Brian compositions to reissue in conjunction with the BBC and other media.

Track Listing:
Havergal BRIAN (1876-1972)
Symphony No.3 in C sharp minor (1931-32)
Symphony No.17 (1960-61)
Ronald Stevenson (piano), David Wilde (piano), New Philharmonia Orchestra/Stanley Pope (Symphony No.3), Royal Philharmonic Orchestra /Stanley Pope (Symphony No.17)
rec. 12 January 1974 BBC Maida Vale, London (Symphony No.3); 23 June 1976, BBC Maida Vale, London (Symphony No.17)
HERITAGE HTGCD 153

Havergal Brian: Violin Concerto in C major

The key question about Havergal Brian’s Violin Concerto in C major is whether it ought to be regarded as one of the great British concertos or whether it deserves its relative obscurity.

Now, the Brian aficionado will insist that this work is a masterpiece and deserves to be taken up by any number of leading soloists and orchestras. But what is the competition? I am sure that the readers do not need to be read a lecture on the repertoire, however it is worth a few moments just listing the some key British works in this genre.

Few would argue that the leading contenders are Edward Elgar and William Walton. However, it would be unfair to disregard E.J. Moeran and Benjamin Britten. Another name to be reckoned with is Alan Rawsthorne who composed two excellent examples of the genre which have been recorded by Naxos. The little appreciated work by Fred. Delius is actually rather good. And the offerings by Ralph Vaughan Williams, Samuel Coleridge-Taylor and Arthur Somervell should not be ignored. In recent years there is the stunning Violin Concerto by Lionel Sainsbury. Yet, it is the Elgar and the Walton concerti that really count in the concert halls and on record. I have loved these two works since I was a teenager: both of them reach for the stars and touch the moon. And they have one distinct advantage. They are exposed to the public. They are heard at concerts and on the radio: scores are available for perusal by the musically literate. There are essays available to assist with analysis. And finally, biographies and letters of these composers help us find our way through these pages.

What are we to make of Havergal Brian’s Concerto? Firstly, this is not a new work – it has been around for 70 years. However it had to wait until 1969 before receiving its first performance by Ralph Holmes and the New Philharmonia Orchestra. It is currently available on a Naxos disc which is a re-release: it was originally issued on Marco Polo over 15 years ago.  

Secondly, the first performance of this piece (1969) was at a time when tonal music was at an all time low. In fact, it was likely to have been regarded as being passé by most learned critics at that time. A composer like Havergal Brian was not appreciated. The concerto, although receiving fine reviews, would not catch the eye of the cognoscenti. It would be left to the enthusiasts of Brian’s music to carry the torch. In the second decade of the 21st century we are less inclined to write-off a work because it does not conform to the latest ideas on musical composition. So the work has a good chance of being heard, enjoyed and appreciated without being condemned.

And lastly, in spite of the efforts of the Havergal Brian Society, I doubt that his name will ever rank with Walton and Elgar in the musical public’s perception.

However, after a number of hearings, I am convinced that this work will complete the triangle of key violin concertos produced in the 20^th century in the United Kingdom. 

But first of all it is helpful to give a brief resume of the genesis of this great concerto. I rely heavily on the excellent programme notes written by Malcolm MacDonald for the Naxos recording. Brian had composed his Fourth Symphony in 1933 and decided to embark on the composition of a large scale work -the Violin Concerto. As a child, Brian had learnt to play the violin, so it was natural that he should turn to this particular form.

The draft score was completed by June 1934 but unfortunately it was lost on a train trip from Brighton to London Victoria – his briefcase was stolen or mislaid. Typically, he set to work straight away to recover lost ground. He did not try to reconstruct the work from memory but effectively created a new work using what themes and progressions he could recall from the original. The ‘new’ work was finished in the summer of 1935 and was initially called Violin Concerto No.2. It was subtitled ‘The Heroic’ which aptly summed up the effort Brian put into creating this masterpiece. Eventually the composer dropped the No.2 and the name and it became known as Violin Concerto in C major.

It is superfluous to describe the musical progress of this work. The programme notes give a detailed analysis of each movement and the listener can peruse this at leisure. Furthermore it is difficult to try to say what the work sounds like. All sorts of allusions spring to mind. And one of my criticisms of the Brian’s music is that it can sometimes be a little too eclectic. One minute we are reminded of Elgar, then the next Schoenberg and perhaps a few bars later Shostakovich. But at the end of the day the end result is typically Havergal Brian.

The work is in three movements – two ‘allegros’ sandwich a ‘passacaglia’. On my first hearing, I felt that the work seemed unbalanced, but with further hearings it fell into place for me. The equilibrium between the soloist and the orchestra, which can ruin many a good concerto, seems just about right.

One of Havergal Brian’s fingerprints is the tensions in his use of musical language. Much of this work is quite obviously tonal – yet, suddenly he pushes towards an atonality that would have made Ligetti proud! Some of his ‘tunes’ are diatonic and nod towards folk-music but others suggest the breakdown of the key signature. Some melodies could be whistled by the proverbial ‘butcher’s boy on his bicycle’ – others would seem to defy analysis. Often Brian’s harmonies are conventional sometimes they are harsh. Yet the balance is always right. He never loses the plot.

The greatness of this Violin Concerto lies in the well-contrived tension between competing elements and styles. There is an overt simplicity about much of this music that harks back to a more pastoral age, yet some of the more complex passages owe more to Berg and Schoenberg than to English folk song. Much of this concerto is intense, probing the very heart of music and perhaps life itself. This is expressly so in the Lento. Sometimes there is a serenity that lulls the listener into a false sense of security. Occasionally the music appears naïve – there is a passage in the last movement that is almost childish. Yet the balance remains; the equilibrium is never lost. The artistic integrity is never misplaced.

The final recommendation for this work is the blatantly obvious fact that Brian has used the great romantic concertos of the past as models. Of course he knew the Elgar and the Dvorak and the Tchaikovsky. He has not copied or even parodied any of these works. What he has done is learnt the lessons of their style and their balance and created a masterpiece in his own right.

Havergal Brian’s Violin Concerto is available on NAXOS 8.557775

Havergal Brian: Symphonies Nos. 17 and 32, In Memoriam and Festal Dance

It is hard to imagine that when Havergal Brian began to compose his 17th Symphony some five decades had passed since the Festal Overture. The composer was a ‘young’ 84 years old. The work was begun in the latter part of 1960 and was completed in early January. The liner-notes point out that in the previous twelve months he had been extremely active - completing Symphonies 13-16. Each of these had been in a single movement format, calling for a large orchestra. No. 17 was a little different. Although still in a single movement, the orchestra is somewhat smaller - in spite of a large percussion section and a pair of tubas - and the duration is quite short. In fact, this work lasts just over thirteen minutes with an unbalanced scale of movements: the opening Adagio-Allegro last for over eight minutes, the final allegro for under two. Malcolm MacDonald gives an excellent précis of this work which is worth quoting in full:-‘[This] is one of Brian’s most abstract and elliptical utterances: there are fleeting hints of Romantic imagery and mysterious hymnody, but in general it might be considered as a species of polyphonic fantasia in several clearly-defined sections, a kind of orchestral equivalent...to the big keyboard toccatas of Bach...’

.

The music opens with an adagio that is described as being redolent of Celtic Romanticism. Yet this is soon blown away by the timpani leading to virile and forceful music that is occasionally tinged with reflection. The ‘lento’ is not a relaxing listening experience. The composer chose to use a variety of moods seemingly juxtaposed in a haphazard manner, but actually cunningly contrived to achieve an unsettling effect. There is a grotesque march here, and a romantic interlude there: all thrown around in abrupt contrast. Certainly there has been some critical concern over the final movement which just does not really seem to do anything or go anywhere. It starts off well and then appears to become a little confused. It is not surprising that adjectives such as ‘enigmatic’ and ‘elusive’ are used about this music. Yet something about this symphony impresses and moves me: I fear it should not do so, but it does. There is an uneasy coherence that emerges from the disjointed and varied material the composer has chosen to use.

.

Havergal Brian’s last Symphony is one which I have admired since first hearing the Marco Polo release of this work in the early nineteen-nineties. As Malcolm MacDonald points out, this was in fact the last work of any kind that Brian completed. He was only 92 years old at this date. The work was composed in 1968 whilst Brian was staying in his council flat overlooking Shoreham Beach. I recall when I first listened to this work some eighteen years ago, wondering if it would be ‘valedictory’ or would represent some kind of ‘summing up’ or epitome of his career. Macdonald suggests that this is not the case - it is not a last will and testament. However it does continue to explore the ‘Brianist’ symphonic development and challenges the listener with its dichotomy between darkness and affirmation. The work is ostensibly written in four reasonably-balanced movements with the ‘adagio’ placed second and the scherzo third. However, formally it is usually perceived as being in two ‘large halves’ - the first being brooding and melancholic, with the second half energetic and positive. It is hardly the work of an elderly man. This symphony has been described by one reviewer as having a Nielsen-like conflict alongside one of Brian’s trademark funeral marches. There is a wide range of mood and musical device in this symphony - from the dance music of the scherzo to the polyphonic final movement.

.

The two other works on this CD are impressive. The first is the tone poem In Memoriam (1910) and the second is the sparkling Festal Dance. For many composers a work of the size and seriousness of In Memoriam would have been cast as a 'symphony'. Certainly, Brian makes use of a large orchestra of Straussian proportions. The formal sense of the work is in three scenes; or movements, preceded by an introduction. This is funeral music that refuses to be totally pessimistic: there is a positive feel to much of this music. The genesis and conception of this tone poem is convoluted. It has been suggested that the late King was its subject. Or was it a musical friend from the Potteries? There are a number of musical allusions - for example, the National Anthem. A number of inscriptions on the score muddy the waters. Furthermore, there appears to have been a written 'programme' to the work appended to the score - but this has been removed. Brian wanted his music to be judged as absolute music - not as programmatic. It received its first performance in Edinburgh during December 1921. The Scottish Orchestra was conducted by Landon Ronald. The Festal Dance has a complicated history too. It was originally the final movement of the discarded ‘Fantastic Symphony’. It was published in 1914 and first performed at a concert in Birmingham conducted by Granville Bantock. The Symphony was also mined for the Fantastic Variations on an Old Rhyme. However, the scherzo and the slow movement are lost. The finale was subtitled Dance of the Farmer’s Wife. The resultant dance is certainly very ‘festal’ in its exuberance and sheer vitality. The quality of the orchestration is superb with a heavy reliance on the percussion section. Surely this would be a fine opening piece for a ‘Prom’ Concert, if only the BBC would look in Havergal Brian’s direction now and again.

.

The programme notes are both extensive and excellent: this is to be expected from Malcolm MacDonald who is the leading authority on the music of Havergal Brian. The sound quality is outstanding, the playing is convincing and the programme is ultimately satisfying. My only concern is that most Havergal Brian enthusiasts will already have this CD in the Marco Polo edition or will have downloaded it from Amazon. One must hope that this present release will encourage new listeners and that people who already own a copy of this disc will be prepared to buy a ‘back-up’ copy!

Track Listing:
Havergal BRIAN (1876-1972) 
In Memoriam (1910) Festal Dance (1908) Symphony No.17 (1960-1961) Symphony No.32 (1968)
RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra/Adrian Leaper 
NAXOS 8.572020

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published

Havergal Brian: Gothic Symphony

I recently reported on the performance of Havergal Brian's gargantuan Gothic Symphony in Brisbane, Australia. I noted that there is a fine recording of this work on NAXOS. The thoughts below are an attempt at developing a strategy for listening to this work.

Is there a helpful listening strategy for the longest symphony in the repertoire? Is there some way of approaching this gargantuan work that will enable us to fit it into a workable frame of reference?
Apart from operas and oratorios this is the longest piece of music I have listened to at a single sitting. I understand that many people could well give up at the end of the first couple of tracks. It is quite definitely a musical marathon.

I believe that there is a way to approach this work in a satisfying manner. Now normally I would argue that any musical work should be listened to as a unity. I have never liked excerpting favourite movements of concerti or symphonies. However I am not sure that this present work needs to be taken at one bite; I do not hesitate in thinking that the extended time commitment required is likely to put the listener off and make them more enthusiastic about making a cup of tea or coffee.

I think the correct approach to this symphony is based around the fact that this work is divided quite clearly into two sections - not related to the two CDs. Part One is inspired by the legend of Faust and Part Two has the great Christian hymn, 'Te Deum' as its raison d'être. I remember reading a review in which the author contends that if only 'part one' existed, we would have a fine example of a British Symphony that would entitle the composer to immense respect. Furthermore there is an obvious hiatus between parts. The first is for the orchestra alone, the second is a massive choral work.

A little bit of background is helpful. Havergal Brian composed the Gothic Symphony over a period of seven or eight years. He was over fifty years old when it was completed so it reflects his mature musical personality. The symphony brings together two huge, contrasting projects that had been casting around the composer’s mind for many years. The first was based on the legend of Faust and the second was a 'symphonic' vision of the Gothic Age (1150-1560) as a 'period of almost unlimited expansion of human knowledge, both secular and spiritual, both glorious and terrible.' It is as if pagan and Christian were being set in opposition.

Faust is the main character of a popular legend. He has featured in many different fictional works over the years. The story concerns the fate of a scholarly gentleman who calls up the Devil, usually called Mephistopheles, from the depths of hell. As a result of their meeting, Faust decides to sell his soul to the Devil and the contract is signed in blood. The final fate of Faust differs from story to story.
Faust became the arch-type of the Gothic man seeking after arcane knowledge and spiritual enlightenment. It is not too difficult to transfer the legend to any age; we need only think of the false gods of communism, cpaitalism and fascism that have plagued history over the last 100 years. It is easy to see Hitler or Stalin (both somewhat later than the symphony I hasten to add!) as offering illumination to a 'Faustian' population.

The second part of this work is a massive setting of the Te Deum. This is one of the great hymns of the Christian Church. Its authorship is unknown, yet patristic scholars assume that it is a conflation of two (perhaps more) earlier hymns. It is fundamentally a paean of praise to God the Father and to God the Son; Redemption and Creation. Of course this liturgical text has been set to music by a number of composers; I think of those by Bruckner, Berlioz and Dvořák as being amongst the best known.
So having looked at the fundamental thesis of the work we can see, perhaps, a way forward. My strategy is quite simple. Take each part as a separate event. The opening 'symphony' does stand alone and repays more than one hearing. The Te Deum compares favourably with the version by Berlioz as a triumph of massive musical invention and genius.
The connection between the two parts of this work can be made by understanding just one thing. Faust was not an inherently evil person - just misguided perhaps. He was in need of redemption - like all of us - be it religious or by discovery of the worth of self. It is these great themes that this work addresses.

However, when all is said and done it is important to realise that this is actually a quite a revolutionary piece of music. In fact, one of its faults could be that it is too eclectic. We move from neo-gothic plainsong themes to 'clusters' prefiguring Ligeti and other later composers. Sometimes we hear an Elgarian tune making head-way only to be displaced by something a bit more Schoenbergian. Yet in some ways it always seems to hang together; there is a unifying thread which, to be honest, is quite difficult to put ones finger on. How do we resolve this?

Perhaps one of the most helpful analogies for this symphony is that of the Gothic Cathedral (which actually is part of the intellectual concept of the work).
Imagine walking around, say, York Minster. We are faced with a plethora of images. There are artefacts from a time period of many centuries. All of them are vying for our attention. The best of the new blends in with the original Gothic fabric. However, the occasional modern feature shouts its protest against the prevailing style. Sometimes we find a hidden gem; under a misericord, perhaps; sometimes we are overwhelmed by the loftiness of the central tower or the massiveness of the buttresses. The tiny medieval wren chasing a spider in the Zouch Chapel stained glass window is juxtaposed against the 64ft organ pipes and the huge new roof bosses in the south transept.
All these things make up the cathedral and create its sense of purpose and spiritual vitality. Some things are in equilibrium and some in tension. It is like this in Brian's Gothic Symphony.

Havergal Brian: Notes and News

The last post of the year!!! However, 2010 has been a great year for Havergal Brian and 2011 promises to be even better! Of greatest significance was a performance of the massive Gothic Symphony in Brisbane, Australia on December 22. I have not yet read any reviews of this, but am sure that it will have been a huge success. It was two years in planning, involved some 300 singers and 180 musicians. It is the first performance in over 30 years. The executive producer of the symphony, Gary Thorpe has admitted that "The logistics are a nightmare . . . the composer declared the work was cursed after he saw repeated attempts to mount it fail by the likes of Eugene Goossens and Leonard Bernstein."
Interestingly, in 1974, the Gothic Symphony was achieved note in the Guinness Book of World Records as “the largest, longest and most technically difficult symphony ever composed”
There is a persistent rumour circulating that the Gothic will be played at the 2011 Proms on July 17 with BBC National Orchestra of Wales, conducted by Martyn Brabbins. However, there does seem to be some doubt over this exciting news – apparently according to MusicWeb International, Roger Wright at the BBC “refuses to confirm or deny as all information is embargoed until April” So it is a matter of keeping fingers crossed.

Earlier this year, Toccata Press published the long-awaited second volume of Havergal Brian’s writings. In these selections from his journalism, the Brian “directs his enquiring mind at the music being composed in France, Germany, Italy and elsewhere while he and his British contemporaries were fighting to establish new music at home.” It is a worthy successor to the earlier volume, published as far back as 1986 where Brian's writings about British music and composers were presented.

Naxos has continued to republish Havergal Brian’s Symphonies which were originally released on Marco Polo. These include numbers 11, 15, 17 & 32 along with his tone poem In Memoriam and Festal Dance. Furthermore, Testament has issued the Boult/BBC Symphony Orchestra recording of the Gothic Symphony made on 30 October 1966 in the presence of the composer. And finally Dutton Epoch has released some studio broadcasts of Brian’s Dr. Merryheart Overture, the Symphony No. 9 and No. 11.
I understand that there are a number of other recordings that are ‘in the can’ as it were for release during 2011. More about that in due course.

Have a great Hogmanay!!

Havergal Brian: Symphonies 11 and 15 on Naxos

The symphonic LP discography of Havergal Brian has been largely distorted by a number of pirated recordings released on the so-called ‘Aries’ label. These were derived from BBC broadcasts and were (with one exception) issued under assumed names of both orchestras and conductors. A number of other CD companies issued selected symphonies over the years, but the mainstay has been the eleven examples released by Marco Polo. These original discs appeared in the nineteen-nineties and according to the Brian Society webpage have now been largely deleted - although many are available as MP3 downloads. Naxos has to be congratulated for re-issuing a number of these recordings: it is a process that I hope will be continued in the coming months and years. I believe that there are a further six symphonies still to be re-issued.

The entry point to this fine CD must surely be the captivating Comedy Overture: Doctor Merryheart (1911-12). As Reginald Nettel points out in his book, ‘Havergal Brian and his Music’, the title of ‘overture’ is misleading. This work is in fact ‘a symphonic poem in the form of a set of continuous variations on two converging lines’ [of music]. Even the most cursory hearing of this overture must impress the listener with the sheer confidence and technical mastery presented by the composer. The piece is based on the life and doings of a certain Dr Merryheart, whose persona was the creation of the composer. Merryheart was both an astronomer who indulged in Pythagorean speculation and also a dreamer. The subtitles given to the variations suggest the sort of dreams he had. For example, the first variation was ‘Whimsies and Sunshadows’, another was ‘Dreams: Asleep in the arms of Venus’ and another, ‘Merryheart as a chivalrous knight chases Bluebeard.’ Before Dr Merryheart awakes he has fought a dragon and led a procession of heroes. The work concludes with ‘The Dance of Merryheart’ where the composer recapitulates a number of the preceding themes. It is perhaps a good idea to see this overture as a kind of English Til Eulenspiegel. Certainly there are a number of Straussian references and even parodies in this music. It is interesting that Brian retained a lifelong affection for this work – possibly because it is one of the few works that retained a tentative place in the concert repertoire. But more to the point it may well be because the character of Dr Merryheart is largely that of the composer himself!

Before starting work on the Symphonies I would recommend backtracking to the opening number on this CD - the Concert Overture: For Valour (1902-06). In many ways it has the assurance and confidence of the Edwardian period, yet I think it would be wrong to assume that it was simply a sort of pastiche of ‘ceremonial music’ nodding towards jingoism. There is an ambiguity here. This is not a piece of music that exalts war: if anything it is a work that questions the fact that men have to go and fight and die in the battlefield in the first place. It is no coincidence that ‘For Valour’ is the inscription on the nation’s highest battle order –the Victoria Cross. The Overture, which was written after the Boer War may reflect the dichotomy between the reality that many VCs were won in that campaign for outstanding bravery and the fact that the war was largely unpopular ‘back home.’ The work is certainly not anti-war but neither is it a kind of ‘Froissart-ian’ glorification of it. It is the balance between the marital music in this overture and the more ‘pastoral’ imaginings that gives the work it character and emotional depth. Interestingly, the literary inspiration for this work was a quotation from Walt Whitman’s 'Drum Taps' – the passage beginning with ‘Adieu dear Comrade’ and concluding with ‘To fiercer weightier battles give expression.’

I always have a major problem when I listen to any Symphony by Havergal Brian – it immediately becomes my favourite of the series! Furthermore, I am always depressed as to how such inspiring works of art can be ignored by the great and the good. If pressed, I would have to declare my contention that Brian is up there with the ‘Top Five’ symphonists from Great Britain. Who the other four would be is always a matter of debate and not for these pages! It is redundant to attempt an analysis of these Symphonies for my review. The Havergal Brian Website carries such a vast array of information, reviews, analysis and bibliography on virtually all of Brian’s works. Furthermore Malcolm MacDonald, who has produced the three-volume study of Brian’s 35 Symphonies, has given a comprehensive analysis of both works in the liner notes. However, a few comments are essential to allow any potential listener the opportunity to decide if this music is for them.

The 11th Symphony was composed between February and April 1954. It is scored for a large orchestra with an array of percussion instruments, including sleigh bells and gong. The work is conceived in three movements with the middle movement being longer that the other two together. MacDonald notes the unusual form of the work – with a deeply felt ‘adagio’ preceding what is effectively the central scherzo-like movement. He suggests that the nearest parallel is Shostakovich’s Sixth Symphony (1939) which is of similar length and form. Yet the mood of the two works are very different, especially in the opening movement – the Brian work seems to be much more positive and even relaxed in its outlook whereas the Russian adagio is tragic. Furthermore, the finale of the Brian work is a ‘ceremonial’ style march in E major which is followed by a country dance tune, whereas the Shostakovich concludes with ‘a full-blooded and debauched music-hall galop’.

The 11th Symphony is a fine work and one where the composer has seemingly enjoyed himself. The music travels a huge distance in its half hour duration. Quoting Malcolm MacDonald, who gives an excellent summary in a review of this CD:- [The] ‘Symphony 11 runs a gamut, from exalted lyric expression at the start, through truly comic episodes in this big central movement, to a Finale of swaggering ceremonial—which nevertheless is itself qualified, once again, by more pastoral images in a central country dance...in fact it ranks among Havergal Brian’s occasional (and usually ironic) nods to the ‘English pastoral’ school of composers who were the Establishment throughout much of his career.’

The Symphony No.15 was written in the spring of 1960 when the composer was a mere 84 years old. It is almost incredible to imagine that at this point he was not yet half way through his symphonic career: the final essay, the 32nd Symphony was not completed until 1968. The work is scored for a large orchestra and is formally conceived as a single movement. Malcolm MacDonald suggests ‘that this work takes another look at pompousness and circumstance and magnificence and ceremonial, and ways of undercutting these things. This is monumental subversion raised to a fine art.’ Yet this is not to say that Brian totally mocks this genre. He stated in a letter that this symphony was ‘a work of [both] power and tenderness.’ The 15th Symphony is a complex and involved work that needs a lot of attention from the listener else much will be missed. What is not in doubt is the sheer technical mastery – both of the formal structures, the melodic transformations and the instrumentation. This is a Symphony that is totally ambivalent. On the one hand it appears to sit in the tradition of English ‘ceremonial’ music, yet on the other hand it represents this genre in a manner which although recognizable is totally transformed. I think that there is also a huge dash of humour in much of this music. There seems to be a reference back to the success of Dr Merryheart with much of the thematic transformations: nothing is ever at it seems. In some ways Brian does for this style of music what Charles Ives did for hymn-tunes and hoe-downs. Both the performance and the sound quality of these recordings are superb. There is so much potential for going wrong in any presentation of Brian’s music – the scoring is surely difficult to balance either in the concert hall or the studio. Yet every nuance is given here – from the most extrovert moments in the 15th Symphony, through to the instrumental complexities of Merryheart by way of the weight of sound of the For Valour Overture and the depth of the ‘adagio’ of the 11th Symphony.

Track Listing:
Havergal BRIAN (1876-1972) Concert Overture: For Valour (1902-06) Comedy Overture: Doctor Merryheart (1911-12) Symphony No. 11 (1954) Symphony No. 15 (1960)
RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra/Tony Rowe (For Valour and Symphony No.15) & Adrian Leaper. Originally released on Marco Polo 8.223588 NAXOS 8.572014
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review first appeared.

Havergal Brian: A new book and two new CDs

I have inspected the new edition of Malcolm MacDonald’s massive anthology of Havergal Brian’s writings -Havergal Brian on Music Volume 2 -European and American Music in his Time’ in Foyle’s bookshop. It is a worthy companion to the first volume containing virtually all the articles and reviews that the composer wrote about British Music and composers.

The promotional blurb describes this book as being '457 pages of Brian’s journalism, which shows unusual understanding for the time. In these 160+ items, dating from 1907–46, he writes perceptively on a wide range of his contemporaries, chief among them Mahler, Strauss, Schoenberg, but also Bartók, Berg, Busoni, Debussy, Dohnányi, Dukas, Glazunov, Grieg, Hindemith, Kilpinen, Lehár, Messager, Puccini, Rachmaninov, Ravel, Respighi, Shostakovich, Sibelius, Sousa, Stravinsky, Szymanowski, Tailleferre and Varese, as well as less well known figures such as Bungert, Geloso and Kienzl.
Malcolm MacDonald’s introductions and annotations provide the background to each piece and cast light on Brian’s more obscure references. The book is available direct from the publisher, Toccata Press where a special offer also bundles it with Vol. 1, ‘British Music’.

It is a book I hope to be adding to my collection in the near future, in spite of the fact that it is not about British music!

Another exciting event in the Havergal Brian world is the release of a CD of his orchestral music. This is the first volume of a proposed series –at least a second volume has been announced. Toccata Classics write that ‘this spring [they] will release the first of two new recordings of Havergal Brian’s orchestral music made by Garry Walker and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra in Glasgow this past summer. The works range from Brian’s first surviving orchestral score, the Burlesque Variations on an Original Theme of 1903, to the second-last work he composed, the ‘Legend’ Ave atque vale, written in 1968, when Brian was 92 – and a work bursting with defiant energy. The CD, catalogue number TOCC 0110, will be announced on the Toccata Classics website in a few weeks. The second volume (TOCC 0113), scheduled for autumn 2010, contains orchestral excerpts from Brian’s operas, chief among them the nine-movement suite from Turandot.’

I am hoping that they may (at some stage) rework some of the ground from the problematic Campion recording of the Early Works.

Havergal Brian: English Suite No.1 another contemporary review.

A few days ago I posted a mildly enthusiastic review of this piece from the Musical Times. I found another, more positive consideration in the contemporary edition of The Musical Standard. It was quoted in Reginald Netel’s Ordeal by Music and is worth re-publishing.
It was not surprising that honours fell to Mr. Havergal Brian after the performance of his English Suite at Queen's Hall Promenade Concerts on Thursday, September 12th, for it is a work of considerable interest. From the point of view of orchestral tone colour it was a triumph. His use of the orchestra is especially good, and throughout the work the varying colours of the instrumental palette were adroitly chosen and harmonized. That is an achievement in technical skill which few writers can attain; we hear so much mist and mud in modern orchestration. Neither was the scoring of this work reminiscent, it had a freshness and breezy vigour which can be broadly described as English.
In modulation, Havergal Brian brings a new touch, and in the first two movements, March and Valse, there were many striking and individual transitions. The Suite has an honest face, there are no false heroics and, heaven be thanked, no puling melancholy in this music; and humour was much in evidence in the last movement. Typifying some scene of a Carnival, this last section had a brief interpretation of a Punch and Judy show; the scoring and ideas of this section were especially amusing. The motive was scored for piccolo and side drum, and this led to the theme of "God Save the King" scored for muted trumpet and trombones. The mere association of (carnival-like) loyalty with a Punch and Judy show is just a stroke of bombast of which English people are truly capable; it is a motive suited to the brain and pen of Bernard Shaw or Chesterton, and would set either of them off on a play or a paragraph. I am wondering whether Brian is a satirist at heart, or whether he only sets out to chronicle.

On the whole, this work of Brian's is a worthy contribution to our British school. The composer achieves what he sets out to do. It is not a subjective work, but more a musical transcription of an English country fair, and must be judged from that standpoint. The music, except in a few places as in the third movement, Love under the Beech Tree, has that objective non-introspective quality which is so much a feature of our times; although one cannot say that the thematic material strikes very newly upon the ear, there is yet a personality in the work.

Mr. Henry J. Wood took a tremendous interest in its interpretation. and it was very evident that his orchestra enjoyed their labours; for, after all, it is something to an orchestral player that his work counts, that the characteristics of his instrument are not overlooked, or "crowded out", and in this particular work the orchestral tints gleamed -that is the word-and the various groups of tone, strings, wood, brass, percussion, were each excellently written for.
Every discovery of musical creative talent is important to our countrymen because it is only by an overwhelming army of talented and diverse abilities that the many hindrances to our musical life can be overcome. The public, the publishers, the performers, the press will all respond to an inevitable fact, they always do, since they deal in inevitable facts. We have chosen, for constitutional purposes, the majority shall decide, they do both in civil and impolite matters, also in music; all we can do is to transform lassitude and indifference into enthusiasm and vitality. Creative minds alone can arrange the transformation, they always were the world's ransomers; yet between them and their ideals is ranged an unproductive and negative force. The creative gift is a natural force, the only one which the world denies existence to.
The Musical Standard October 2007[with minor edits]

Havergal Brian: English Suite No.1

I have written in these pages before about the urgent need for a professional recording of the extant English Suites by Havergal Brian. The only version currently available (with a bit of searching) is the 2-CD set from Cameo. Now the playing and the recording quality of this CD do leave a bit to be desired.

The critic in the Gramophone Magazine of April 1980 generously wrote that: “These are by no means easy pieces to play, and occasionally […] one feels that the Hull Youth Symphony […] has bitten off more than they can chew. Nor is their intonation invariably a joy elsewhere. But within the obvious limitations these are good performances and can safely be recommended not only to Brian aficionados but to the general public as well. The recorded sound is if anything slightly superior to the orchestra and previous releases”.

qqq

That this is an important work as is clear from this review in The Musical Times. In a future post I will present the contemporaneous review from the Musical Standard. I do worry that the Marco Polo/Naxos series of Brian appears to have ground to a halt. He is one of the most important composers writing in Britain during much of the Twentieth Century.

The English Suite No.1 can be heard on Cameo RR2CD 1331/1332 and is still much better than no recording at all.

qqq

THE MUSICAL TIMES: OCTOBER 1, 1907 p.672 [with minor edits] Previous to September 12 few Londoners had heard of Mr. Havergal Brian. He is a well nigh self-taught composer, born in North Staffordshire in 1877, and in the North, notably at Hanley, his compositions have won much esteem. They include three Psalm settings for orchestra and soli, Burlesque Variations for orchestra, a symphonic poem, inspired by Lord Leighton's picture Hero, an English suite, and an overture For valour. The Suite, originally produced at one of the Leeds Town Hall Municipal concerts in January last, was performed for the first time in London on September 12. The poetic basis of the suite is an old English country fair. Rustics assemble to a spirited march, whereunto a humorous element is imparted by the prominence given to that most rural of all instruments, “the loud bassoon”. The next number is a waltz, not of modern sentimentality but a rhythmic measure that stirs the pulse; its influence, however, upon the dancers appears to be much the same, since without break the music passes into an amorous episode entitled “Love under the beech tree”. Presumably the village has only one such trysting-place, a state of affairs which must have caused occasional inconvenience. That the beech tree is not far from the dancers is evident from the strains of the waltz that occasionally mingle with tête-à-tête sentences. The fourth movement, entitled “Interlude”, takes one away from the fair, for the composer says it is “an attempt to convey in sound the emotion which arose while gazing from the Hanchurch hills, in Staffordshire, in the direction of the Wrekin, in Shropshire, the whole country suffused in brilliant sunlight”. Still farther from the spirit of the fair is the next section, in which a hymn-like melody plays a prominent part; but with the concluding movement a return is made to rustic revelry, and a series of episodes introduce us to such sundry side-shows as Punch and Judy, a Sleeping Beauty, and The Breathless Lady, the latter represented by a version of the 'dancers' theme played with mock solemnity by trombones and tuba, shortly after which the work ends in a spirit of carnivalism. One is conscious that the composer is somewhat weak in the art of thematic development, but there is a freshness and significance in his music which indicates creative power.

Havergal Brian: The Early Works

I recently bought the Campion recording of Havergal Brian’s early works. I had never heard them before and was really looking forward to exploring them – especially the Fantastic Variations on an Old Rhyme, the Festal Dance and the English Suite No.1. Now, I do know that the Hull Youth Symphony Orchestra is exactly what it states – an orchestra of young people who are not (or not yet) professional musicians – so it is not fair to be too critical of their efforts. Let me just say that I did have problems with this CD.
With both the musical side and the sound reproduction quality there is a lot to be desired. Musically, there are issues with balance, intonation and the technical capabilities of the players. From the reproduction side there appears to be tape speed problems. It is, to be honest, quite a hard CD to listen to. Additionally, the lack of cueing for the English Suite means a newcomer has to guess where they are in this six-movement piece. Yet, allowances can be made. This is a vital part of the composer’s career and demands to be heard. At least we can hear these works on this double CD and form a provisional view of the music’s worth. My only concern is that is not right to present this music in a less than professional recording: I worry that people could be put off Brian’s music–and that would be a tragedy.

I am also concerned that the Havergal Brian project that Marco Polo was developing in conjunction with the Havergal Brian Society has ground to a complete standstill. Moreover, even recordings that have been issued are no longer available and have been deleted from the catalogues. Fortunately, Naxos have re-issued a few works including the Gothic Symphony and the Violin Concerto – yet this also seems to have run out of steam.

There is a danger that the re-assessment of Brian that has taken place over the last thirty years could grind to a halt. It would be a shame – as he is surely one of the greatest composers that this country has produced. I guess that he will never be seen as mainstream, but will inhabit the same world as Sorabji and Foulds.
I believe that one of the great desiderata for Brian must be a full professional recording of the early works and also the other extant English Suites. These are approachable and would surely act as a conduit for listeners into the great symphonic cycle that Brian is famed for – but which very few people actually know.

This CD can be purchased from Campion