Michael Tippett's Concerto for orchestra and Triple Concerto on Philips

It is astonishing that Michael Tippett’s Concerto for orchestra has only two commercial recordings. The most recent, part of Chandos’s survey of his orchestral works by Richard Hickox and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, was issued 27 years ago in 1995. The present version by the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Colin Davis originally appeared in 1965. It has been reissued and repackaged several times. Despite this dearth of recordings, it remains one of the composer’s most popular pieces. 

Many listeners tend to switch off from their enjoyment of Tippett with works written after The Midsummer Marriage (1946-52). His music from the 1930s to the end of the 1940s is typically approachable and seems to comfortably belong to the greater tradition of English Music. One thinks of the glorious Concerto for double string orchestra (1939) and the thought provoking A Child of Our Time (1939-41), all providing satisfying examples of Tippett’s largely “tonal” style. This initial period lasted until about 1947. The following years still featured music with engaging compositions including the Corelli Fantasia (1953) and the Piano Concerto (1953-55). However it was with the advent of the Symphony No.2 (1957) that he began to change his style. Here passages of polytonality lead the way to the considerable chromaticism and increasing dissonance apparent in his music written during the 1960s. These were often characterised by “abrupt statements, sharply contrasting musical subsections and simplicity of texture.” Around 1970, Tippett began to create a synthesis of his earlier styles, where he also introduced rock and pop elements, blues, and quotations from earlier composers including Mussorgsky and Beethoven. Major works of these years were The Ice Break (1973-76), the Symphony No.4 (1976-77), The Mask of Time (1980-82) and New Year (1985-88).

Turning back to the Concerto for orchestra, the biggest driver of change was Tippett’s second opera, King Priam, premiered in 1962. As Bayan Northcott (sleeve notes, Philips, 6580 093) has summarised, in this “epic tragedy, the earlier euphony and flowing lyricism are replaced by strikingly abrupt and dissonant procedures.” Nods are made to Stravinsky’s “more revolutionary works” and to Schoenberg. Northcott has also identified Messiaen’s “timeless mosaic structures” and even Karlheinz Stockhausen’s Momente (1962 onwards) as influences on Tippett’s music at that time. I am not convinced by this last contention.

The basic hermeneutic for enjoying the Concerto for orchestra is to see it as an essay on the “individual timbral qualities of the instruments.” In Priam, the composer had used separate instrumental combinations to portray various characters. Andrew Burn (liner notes Chan 9834) has quoted the Tippett as saying, “that the work is more a ‘concerto for various instrumental ensembles,’ where the orchestra is ‘broken down into small groups and reassembled,’ commenting that it is ‘nearer to the concerto grosso of the 18th century than the display concerto of the 19th.”  Much conversation occurs within and between each orchestral section.

This is an immensely satisfying Concerto. For me the lyrical elements outweigh any dissonant ones that may trouble the listener. The opening theme for two flutes and harp still haunts my musical imagination, many years after first hearing it.

The Concerto for Orchestra was premiered at the Edinburgh Festival on 5 August 1963, by the present performers. It was dedicated “To Benjamin Britten with affection and admiration in the year of his fiftieth birthday.”

The Triple Concerto or Concerto for violin, viola, cello, and orchestra has fared better in the recording studio. There are five editions listed in the late Michael Herman’s essential discography pages on MusicWeb International. The present recording is the earliest with Deutsche Grammophon’s 2007 release being the latest. I have not heard all these records.

This Concerto was commenced in 1978, missed its completion date the following year, and was finally premiered during the 1980 Promenade Concerts. Conventionally, it is interpreted as a “birth to death piece” with its progress mirroring twilight, night and dawn. There are three movements separated by Interludes. The overall formal impression is of fast-slow-fast, which is traditional. Yet, the overall effect is of music unfolding rather than developing.

During the gestation of the Concerto, Tippett had arrived in Bali, as part of an extended holiday in East Asia and the United States. Whilst exploring Java, the composer heard ‘live’ for the first time a traditional Indonesian gamelan ensemble. To be sure he had alluded to Gamelan music in his First Piano Sonata, but he was inspired to develop this further in the Triple Concerto, complete with tuned gongs and melodies performed on the percussion. The listener may at times be reminded of the lines from The Tempest: “This Isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight...”

There is much beauty in these pages, with just the occasional irruption of something darker. Against reason, this concatenation of luxuriant English lyricism and Eastern exoticism works remarkably well. The contributions from the soloists are magnificent. This is complex music that always demands concentration from the soloists, the orchestra and the recording engineers. This aim is achieved superbly here.

The performances of both works are superb. I found the sound quality of the Concerto for orchestra and the Triple Concerto superb. Bearing in mind that they are 58 and 41 years old respectively they stand up remarkably well. They sound fresh, detailed and well balanced. The liner notes by Michael Kennedy are excellent and provide a comprehensive non-technical analysis. They are reprinted from the first CD release of these two pieces. Ian Kemp and Bayan Northcott had provided notes to previous issues. No biographies of the composer and the several performers are included. They are written in English only: formerly, they included a German, French, and Spanish translation. The CD cover, which has the “Awards Collection” template, includes the original sleeve. I note that Tippett’s dates on the rear cover and in the track listing in the booklet, do not recognise that he died in 1998. 

Michael Tippett’s Concerto for orchestra was the first piece I heard by him. It was at a concert in the Bute Hall, Glasgow University on 17 January 1973. The companion work was Robin Holloway’s [First] Concerto for orchestra. The following year, Colin Davis’s recording was the first LP of Tippett’s music that I bought. It was coupled with the “Ritual Dances” from The Midsummer Marriage. It is good to have it in my collection once again.

Track Listing:
Sir Michael TIPPETT (1905-1998)
Concerto for Orchestra (1962-63)
Concerto for Violin, Viola, Cello, and Orchestra (1978-79)
György Pauk (violin), Nobuko Imai (viola), Ralph Kirshbaum (cello)
London Symphony Orchestra/Sir Colin Davis
rec. London, UK, August 1964 (Concerto for Orchestra), November 1981 (Triple Concerto)
PHILIPS 476 7144
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Michael Tippett: Symphonies on Hyperion

To my shame, I tend to slowly lose interest in Michael Tippett’s catalogue as his career developed. For example, I am a great enthusiast of the Concerto for Double String Orchestra written in 1938-9: I do not enjoy (but can admire) the opera The Knot Garden or The Songs of Dov. Naturally, there are exceptions to this rule. I love The Blue Guitar written in 1982-3 and the late The Rose Lake for orchestra (1991-3). One genre that I have always been (more or less) comfortable with are the four symphonies. From the largely neo-classical First Symphony, through the exciting and imaginative Second, to the adventurous fusion of Beethoven and Blues in the Third and to the complex Symphony No.4, I have appreciated the diversity and musical exploration of these works.  I do not know them as well as I should.

The music of Tippett has slipped into the doldrums. I was surprised to be reminded that there are only two complete cycles of the Symphonies – the present Martyn Brabbins edition and part of the ground-breaking survey of Tippett’s orchestral music made by Richard Hickox in the mid-nineteen-nineties. There are also the Colin Davis/London Symphony Orchestra Philips recordings of the first three dating back to the 1960s and 70s. The Symphony No.4 was recorded by George Solti with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in 1979, also on the Philips label. In 1993, the composer conducted the Second and the Fourth for the NMC label. So, the current project is important: it is first complete cycle of Tippett’s Symphonies in quarter of a century.

I first heard a performance of the Third Symphony during a Glasgow Promenade Concert in early 1970s. I was bowled over by this very unbalanced but ultimately succesful work. I bought the Philips LP with Sir Colin Davis conducting London Symphony Orchestra and the soprano Heather Harper as soon as it was released in 1975. 

It is not necessary to give a detailed account of the Third Symphony: this is provided in the liner notes. The putative listener is advised to view it as a work in two disparate parts. The first is purely orchestral with an exposition evolving into a slow ‘movement’. The main philosophical argument in this section is the concept of ‘Arrest and Movement; - which could be paraphrased as ‘stop/start’ or maybe even ‘go/no-go’. Tippett has used ‘blocks’ of sound to create his structures with huge contrasts of mood, orchestration and musical style. The second ‘part’ begins with a Scherzo that famously quotes Beethoven’s 9^th Symphony. This is followed by four songs, with texts devised by the Tippett. The first three are blues-influenced and the last is a ‘dramatic scena’ more at home in an opera. There are some other ‘Beethovian’ allusions in this symphony too.

At first glance there seems to be no unity of purpose in such a work. Edward Greenfield said that it is ‘two quite separate works that somehow had got put together and didn’t quite fit.’ This is how I felt about the Symphony in the early days. I recall only listening to the first ‘half’ of the Davis LP before doing something else. I did not relate to the songs: only now am I beginning to see a connection. For some reason it does result in a satisfying symphonic structure. Don’t ask me why? I have not worked that out yet.

The vibrant playing by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra is superb.  I enjoyed the gutsy performance by singer Rachel Nichols. She seems a touch more up front than in the Chandos recording sung by Faye Robinson. As for the Colin Davis recording with Heather Harper, I can see little to choose between them. In preparation for this review I listened to extracts from all three versions of the Symphony No.3. If I am honest, all are superb, all masterclasses…

Tippett’s Symphony No.4 was premiered in Chicago in 1977 by George Solti and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. It is written in a single movement but subdivided into seven sections which enclose a slow movement and a scherzo as part of the work’s development. It is correct to suggest that the symphony cannot quite decide whether it is written in ‘sonata form’, as a ‘free fantasia’ or a tone-poem. The composer wrote that the metaphysical idea behind the music was the journey from birth to death. I don’t go for the story that he was inspired by watching a highly speeded up film of the development of the embryo of a rabbit. And I am not enthusiastic about the breathing noises created by a wind machine or tape. That said, the music is striking. It may be that some of the stimulus has come from Sibelius (7^th Symphony) or Richard Strauss’s Ein Heldenleben. Certainly, Tippett’s intention was to create a work that followed a human life from birth to death. It had to include elements of ‘self-doubt’ and ‘exhilaration’. In fact, all that is the ‘Condition of Man.’ 

The Fourth Symphony is written for a huge orchestra, which is divided up into several instrumental ‘choirs’ which tend react with each other, rather than to be united.  I was awe-struck by the brass chorus with their powerful and technically demanding sounds. There are some magical moments too, especially with the tuned percussion. Lyricism (despite some claims to the contrary) seems to predominate rather than sheer rhythmic activity. I was impressed by the contrast of ‘walls of sound’ and beguiling passages for solo instruments.  Stylistically, the music seems to me to a little bit of everything. I hear nods to the early Concerto for Double String Orchestra, a backward glance to Orlando Gibbons and the more acerbic and complex sounds of his post-King Priam music. 

On 4 September 1978 I heard the Prom Performance of the Symphony No.4 with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by George Solti. It was not until the remarkable cycle of Tippett’s Symphonies issued by Chandos in 1994 (Richard Hickox and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra that I heard it again. The present recording is totally satisfying: Brabbins has emphasised the expressive nature of much of this work. He has convinced me that this Symphony demands my attention.

A major point of interest for me on this new CD is the early Symphony in B flat. As it was originally written in 1933, when Tippett was 28 years old, it cannot be regarded as ‘juvenilia.’ It was premiered by the South London Orchestra in 1933. Following some amendment, the first movement was played on 12 July 1935 by the London Symphony Orchestra at the Royal College of Music, conducted by the composer. Despite being the subject of some further revision, it was subsequently withdrawn.

I accept that this music is largely unrecognizable as being by Michael Tippett. The exemplars would appear to be Sibelius and, on occasion someone as unexpected as Gerald Finzi. There are even hints of Wagner and Brahms.  I can understand (stylistically) why Tippett supressed this work, but I am grateful to his estate for allowing it to be revived.

Nicholas Kenyon in The Observer (25 February 2018) has made an ideal call on the work’s value. He suggests that it all ‘sound[s] like a passionate reinvention of the English pastoral tradition that was part of Tippett’s background.’ It is an opinion which sums up my feelings entirely. It may be a bit of a ramble in places, and some of the material is certainly a little old fashioned. At no time is it at the cutting-edge of 1930s musical endeavour in England or the Continent. But neither is it a pastiche of Vaughan Williams or the other ‘greats’ of the day. It may not foreshadow Tippett’s achievement over the following 50-60 years, but it does present music that is convincing and above all thoroughly enjoyable.  Reading some of the reviews of the 2018 concert performance, I was expecting to be impressed. And I was, in spadesful!

The CD liner notes are excellent. There is a long, detailed essay about all three Symphonies by Tippett expert Oliver Soden which demands and deserves to be read. This is especially useful in its study of the Symphony in B flat, as there is nothing much else to base one’s opinions on. The essay is also printed in French and German. The text from the ‘blues’ section of the Third Symphony is included. Unusually, there is a complete listing of the orchestral personnel.

I enjoyed this double-CD. It was good to re-engage with the Symphonies No.3 and No.4: it has been several years since I listened to them with attention. But for me the ‘prize pippin of the lot’ was the Symphony in B flat. It may not be a masterpiece, and there could be structural and aesthetic drop-offs. Nevertheless, it is good to have an approachable and rather traditional ‘English’ work from Tippett’s pen that acts as a remarkable ‘companion piece’ to my favourite of his works, the Concerto for Double String Orchestra.  

Track Listing:

Michael TIPPETT (1905-98)

Disc 1

Symphony No. 3 (1970-2)

Disc 2

Symphony No.4 (1976-7)

Symphony in B flat (1932-3, revised 1934,1938)

Rachel Nicholls (soprano, Symphony No.3), BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra/Martyn Brabbins

Rec. City Halls, Candleriggs, Glasgow, 3-5 February 2018

HYPERION CDA68231/2

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

Tippett Symphony No. 2 & Arthur Bliss Concert on Pristine Audio

All ‘Tippetians’ will be aware of the near-catastrophic premiere

of the Symphony No.2 on 5 February 1958 at the Royal Festival Hall. The almost unheard of event of Boult stopping the performance at the end of the exposition of the first movement, and admitting that it was ‘Entirely my mistake, ladies and gentlemen’ is well-remembered.  Contemporary critics felt that the orchestra was ‘taxed to its limit’, however history (almost) absolves their technique. This was reputedly caused by the leader of the orchestra, Paul Beard’s ‘interference’ with the orchestral string parts: he had altered the bowing. In mitigation, it is now understood that it was the flautist who misread their part, causing the cue for disaster.

The BBC Symphony Orchestra was conducted by Sir Adrian Boult: the performance was recorded and broadcast live on the BBC Third Programme.

Tippet has explained (this story has been told a number of times, in slightly differing words) that ‘the exact moment when the symphony began was when, listening to a tape of a Vivaldi concerto for strings in C, while looking out over the sunlit lake of Lugano, I was especially moved by some pounding C major bass arpeggios. I knew them to be the beginning of a new orchestral work.’  He concluded his note by admitting ‘it was some years after this initial moment of conception that the musical shape of the whole work finally established itself. It had taken the form of a symphony in the dramatic tradition.’  Whilst working on the score, he (conveniently) received the BBC Commission.  Tippett’s Symphony was one of six commissioned to mark the tenth anniversary of that radio station.

Michael Tippett’s Symphony No. 2 is usually regarded as a watershed between the lyrical music composed up to and including the opera The Midsummer Marriage, and the next stage of his career progressing towards King Priam. In the Symphony, he has, on his own admission, turned to Stravinsky for inspiration. However, it was composed in a traditional four-movement form and still shows many indications of Tippett’s admiration of Beethoven.

The present recording is deemed to be the only one available of the premiere. Wisely, Pristine records have chosen to include the false start and the applause.  There have been three recordings of this work made over the years, Colin Davis with the London Symphony Orchestra in 1968 (ARGO ZRG 535), Richard Hickox and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra on Chandos (CHAN 9299, 1994) and Tippett himself conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra around 1990 (NMC 104).

I would argue that Colin Davis has the edge on Boult here: witness especially the ebullient scherzo.  The slow movement is given a visionary reading by Davis. There is also more brilliance in the string playing. However, Boult’s reading is impressive and thoroughly satisfying. Whatever the faults of the premiere, it is essential to add this live performance to our understanding of the music. It is one of the composer’s most exciting and imaginative compositions at this period.

Bliss’ ‘Music for Lighter Mood’ is a real historical treat. It was broadcast on 21 December 1956 on the BBC Home Service. As the title implies, it featured some popular and approachable extracts from the composer’s catalogue. A valuable feature of this recording is the rather ‘stiff’ conversation made by the composer and his wife, Lady Trudy Bliss, with presenter Ronald Fletcher.  Bliss conducted the BBC Concert Orchestra in all the pieces. The programme has been presented in its entirety. Music featured begins with the ‘pomp and circumstance’ of Welcome to the Queen. This music was drawn from the Pathé newsreel of the young Queen Elizabeth’s Commonwealth Tour of 1954 at the moment when she arrives home on the banks of the Thames. Bliss had composed the march. He declared that it was conceived on the top of a number 73 London bus, and sketched out on the front of his evening newspaper. The remainder of the newsreel’s score was provided by Malcolm Arnold. This is followed by the ‘Ballet for Children’ from the scary science fiction film Things to Come (1935), based on H.G. Wells The Shape of Things to Come. The present ‘light music’ extract features at the start of the film, during Christmastide.  Two dances from the ballet Checkmate (1937) follow: ‘The Red Knight’s Mazurka’ which is a lively and exuberant number played as the Knight falls in love with the Black Queen and the second is ‘The Black Queen Dances’ who performs a ‘kind of tango’ as she teases the doomed and defenceless Red King.

The Theme and Cadenza (1946) is a Warsaw Concerto for fiddle. Derived from the radio play, ‘Memorial Concert’ written by Trudy Bliss, it features an imaginary composer, beginning in his student days and concluding with his tragic death as he approaches success. There is the inevitable ‘eternal triangle.’  The present piece featured in the ‘memorial concert’ itself and was an ‘early composition.’ This gorgeous Theme and Cadenza works well as a standalone piece. I understand that only Campoli ever recorded it: it deserves a modern version.  The final number in this concert is the rarely heard ‘Overture: Edinburgh composed in 1956 for that year’s Festival. It is an impression of Scotland composed by an Englishman, but none the worse for that. The only modern recording is by Vernon Handley and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra.

Sadly, this excellent CD (in sound and matter) has been spoilt by the abysmal documentation and presentation.  The CD insert looks as if it has been printed on a basic ‘home’ printer on low weight paper. The notes are near illegible: this does not really matter, because the text discussing the Tippett has been lifted (acknowledged) from Wikipedia. There is no commentary on the Bliss whatsoever.  Included is a paragraph by Andrew Rose on the history and technicalities of the actual recording. 

This is a must-have CD for all aficionados of British music. I can easily forgive the dreadful liner notes for the opportunity to hear the Bliss concert and the premiere of Tippett Symphony No.2 in such ideal conditions. 

Track Listing:

Michael TIPPETT (1905-98) Symphony No.2 (1956-7)

Arthur BLISS (1891-1975) ‘Music for Lighter Mood’ (includes dialogue)

Welcome to the Queen (1954)

Ballet for Children (from Things to Come) (1935)

Two Dances from Checkmate (1937), The Red Knight’s Mazurka,The Black Queen’s Dance

Theme and Cadenza for violin and orchestra (1946)

Overture: Edinburgh (1956)

BBC Symphony Orchestra/Adrian Boult (Tippett)

BBC Concert Orchestra/Arthur Bliss (Bliss)

Rec. 5 February 1958, Royal Festival Hall, live broadcast on BBC Third Programme (Tippett); 21 December 1956, live studio broadcast on BBC Home Service (Bliss)

PRISTINE AUDIO PASC460 

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