Charles Villiers Stanford: Land of Sunset Glories

I recently had the pleasure of reviewing Christopher Howell’s latest disc of Stanford’s piano.
In an email the pianist had “suggested to me that, in the early nineteen-seventies, it was a dangerous thing to admit to liking the music of Charles Villiers Stanford. I agree with him totally. When I discovered that Parry and Stanford had composed some twelve symphonies between them, I remember telling a school-friend that I would love to hear them. In those days I presumed that I never would. He ridiculed me and suggested that I should concentrate on Mahler and Bruckner and ignore this second-rate English stuff. I did not take his advice.”

“British music enthusiasts have not been well-served by pianists electing to play Stanford’s music. I seem to recall an old Pearl LP that had a selection of Parry’s Shulbrede Tunes and Stanford’s Three Rhapsodies played by John Parry. And then there were two CDs of music by Peter Jacobs, who recorded both sets of Preludes and the Dante Rhapsodies. But I guess that if you blinked, these offerings would have been missed. Certainly there seems to be little in the CD catalogue today, and rarely, if ever have I seen notice of a piano recitalist playing any pieces by Stanford. So this disc is really my introduction to the whole range of his piano music. And I imagine the same will be true for most other enthusiasts of his music”.

I was fortunate in being able to use another of the pianists short anecdotes:- “he wrote to me that “The owner of Sheva, Ermanno De Stefani, had never heard of Stanford before [making this recording] but has been a lifelong fan of British culture generally and made the rather encouraging comment as we listened to the final edit of the D minor Caprice that "really, one listens to this more willingly than Brahms. It has the same fullness without being clumsy". I don't think even I would invite ridicule by making quite such a claim! I find, though, that Italians generally like Stanford when given a chance”.
Hmm. I have already made the same claim as the Italian ‘signore’ – in more than one forum. I hope I survive”.
Please read the full review of this fantastic CD on MusicWeb International

Thomas Dunhill: On Parry (from the Monthly Musical Record November 1918)

I recently found this short eulogy to Charles Hubert Hastings Parry. it was written shortly after the compsoers death on 7 October 1918.

PARRY'S consummate mastery in part-writing and his power of controlling massive choral forces led some of his admirers to speak of him as 'the English Bach'. The compliment was doubtless appreciated. It is probably, however, that it gave him more pleasure when his old pupil Vaughan Williams (then studying at the Royal College) declared, in making a presentation from the students on the occasion of his receiving the honour of knighthood, that those who loved his music best preferred to think of him as 'the English Parry'.

The truth is that Parry's music was, almost from the beginning, an intensely personal expression. That is perhaps, why those who knew him personally will almost invariably the most ardent admirers of his art. To others it seemed on a lofty plane of isolation which was remote from the world. They understood him when he gave play to exuberance and that bluff geniality which was the most openly apparent quality of his personality To his highest flights they were somewhat coldly responsive, recognising the nobility of manner rather than the deep conviction which lay behind it. Parry's attitude as an artist was uncompromising and not of the kind that quickly wins popular acceptance. He did not write to please, but to express. He was, I think, devoid of any kind of vanity. He would not have been human had he not appreciated the good opinion of the discerning and of those who consistently admired his work, but for any other kind of applause he seemed to care nothing.
Profound alike as scholar and musical historian, hotly impulsive and vigorous in his music, and inspiring in his influence upon all who were in any way associated with him, Sir Hubert Parry's example still lives and shines amongst us-'a presence which is not to be put by'.
Monthly Musical Record, Novemeber 1918

Gordon Jacob, Gustav Holst & Ernst Pauer Wind Quintet Music

I recently reviewed these three works for MusicWeb. They were virtually new pieces to me, although I believe that I had heard the Gordon Jacob work before. I felt that “this is a fantastic CD. I must admit that I would not normally be over-enthusiastic about wind chamber music. It is just not a genre that has grabbed me. However, this disc is special: it has impressed me for three key reasons. Firstly I had never heard of the music of the composer/pianist Ernst Pauer. But his Quintet dating from 1856 is full of delights and interesting music. It is a little gem that has been waiting for a very long time before being discovered. 

Secondly, the Gustav Holst Wind Quintet presents a style of music that manages to balance relatively traditional late-romantic melodies with a breezy mood derived from a subtle appreciation of a somewhat bucolic landscape. It was written before the composer discovered the folk-song tradition, yet in many ways this work - large chunks of it - seems to epitomise the English Pastoral tradition. And lastly the Gordon Jacob Sextet is a fine example of a work that should be in the public domain. In fact, if it was by a German or Austrian it would most certainly be part of the repertoire. This work is an exploration of interesting harmonies and melodies that have an instant appeal without in any way being clichéd or sentimental.
Please read my full review at MusicWeb International

Adam Pounds: A Northern Picture

A Northern Picture is quite definitely programme music, although I guess, 'at a pinch’ it can be listened to by someone who is indifferent to the history and landscape of the Lake District. The main focus of this work is the stone circle at Castlerigg. Adam Pounds told me that this ancient monument “has always been an important place for me - its majestic setting and what it represents – meetings, mysticism and festival”. Castlerigg was a meeting place for celebrations and dancing as well as worship and Pounds has said that “the music is a collage of dance, mysticism and combat”. Interestingly most of this composer’s music is programmatic – he told me that “I rarely compose ‘pure’ music. My music is either a direct response to places, literature or events or the mind – to this end, I suppose I could be described as a New Romantic!”

The work has an enigmatic opening. Pounds told me that this was inspired by a study of echoes that he had experimented with whilst sitting on a hillside in the Lake District. It is not the half-expected or predictable ‘misty morning’ atmospherics, but more a gradual call to worship. This bidding motive is played by woodwind and brass. However, a mysterious theme begins to emerge from the low ‘cellos and basses, before a dissonant string theme briefly asserts itself. Perhaps it is here that the mists are clearing and the early morning sun is appearing over the assembled worshipers? The music builds up to a great crashing brass chord and some powerful music, before the enigmatic theme reappears.
But suddenly the mood changes. A frenetic dance breaks out that may reminds the listener of Stravinsky. Percussion underlines the music’s progress. This is dynamic music, full of repressed energy: but at this stage it is not too violent. Pounds suggests that this section represents tribal dances. Perhaps these are memories of primitive ceremonies that hover between he sublime and the barbaric. Various harmonic and melodic figures are overlaid on the powerful rhythmic undertow. Some of this section will remind the listener of Holst’s Mars or perhaps John Anthill’s Corroboree.
After a short passage of muted brass, the numinous theme is given on the strings and then descends to a dissonant woodwind passage. A melody for French horn is heard:–it is supposedly an old Celtic tune: the soloist is supported by a light orchestral accompaniment. But suddenly the tune is taken up by the orchestra and this leads to a full definitive statement. The work now begins to close but it is no return to a ‘misty landscape’. Echoes of the turbulent music are heard and are finally presented in triumph. The work ends loudly and positively, with the listener being conscious of the bare, spartan and primitive nature of much of this music.
Perhaps the abiding impression of this work is the dichotomy between Castlerigg ‘now and then’. The music seems to allow the listener to move between the two eras in their mind’s eye: it is slippery time.

When I spoke to Pounds about this work I told him that I felt he may have been influenced by Igor Stravinsky. He suggested that the passage I was alluding to, the short wind section followed by tremolando strings and muted trombones is built on the suggested harmonies of the Scriabin ‘mystic scale’. Yet the bigger picture may well remind listeners of The Rite of Spring – but without the naked violence and eroticism.
Furthermore, at the time of composing A Northern Picture Pounds had been conducting Bruckner’s Third Symphony and perhaps this had some influence on the strong brass section heard a little way in from the start. It is certainly impressive and suggests the majesty of the landscape.

A Northern Picture was composed in 1993. It was written for the Nelson Orchestra and received its first performance in December of that year. Although I have been unable to find any reviews of this work in the musical press, I understand that the reaction to this work was favourable. I guess that this work probably deserves a full professional performance, however apart from a few problems of intonation in the strings it is well done by this ensemble.

Lastly, the composer told me that he was “generally pleased with the Northern Picture” but he had no doubt that he “will re-visit it in the future or it may even manifest itself in a new work as the subject matter itself is timeless”.
The work is presently available on Cambridge Recordings CAMREC002

Frank Bridge: Piano Music Volume 2 on Somm

Recently I had the pleasure of reviewing this latest volume of Mark Bebbinton playing Frank Bridge’s piano music. I opened my discussion by giving a brief comment on the availability of this repertoire:- “I remember a number of years ago finding a copy of Peter Jacobs’ Continuum cycle of the ‘complete’ piano works of Frank Bridge in a second-hand record shop. These were issued in the early 1990s. I devoured them eagerly and was convinced at the time that this was the definitive recording. I never imagined that in my lifetime another two ‘complete’ projects would be announced. Naxos has, so far, issued a couple of volumes by Ashley Wass. And then there is the present cycle – now also onto its second volume. The exciting thing about all these three editions is that they explore - or promise to explore - the entire piano repertoire of Frank Bridge.”

“Perhaps the key to understanding Bridge’s “music is to realise that he had a creative hiatus during and after the Great War. Although there were still approachable works and even some ‘salon’ pieces, the general tenor of Bridge’s mature compositions moved towards boundaries laid down by Bartók and Berg rather than any British model. In some of his late compositions he was beginning to experiment with music that is pushing towards a ‘twelve tone’ synthesis but without ever subscribing to a particular system.”

And finally, I felt that it “is an invidious task to suggest what is the ‘best’ recorded edition of Frank Bridge’s piano music. Peter Jacobs’ Continuum version is not typically available in the record shops – although they can be found for sale on some websites – either second-hand or ‘new.’ As this was the edition through which I discovered this great music, I tend to have a soft spot for it. However, I have recently enjoyed listening to Ashley Wass on Naxos – he seems to have taken Bridge to his heart and had produced a number of excellent performances. Bebbington impresses me too. I think especially of the romantic Etude Rhapsodique and the less that innocent Fairy Tale Suite. And lastly, he does not mock the Miniature Pastorals. In spite of their technical simplicity he does take them seriously and presents them with care and with love.”
Please read the full review at MusicWeb Internaitonal

Arnold Bax: Symphony No.1 First Perforamnce - Contemporary Review

Further to the article from the January 1923 edition of The Chesterian I post this contemporary review of Arnold Bax's fine First Symphony. As I understand it, this reivew is written by Leigh Henry.

BAX is responsible for the most arresting novelty of the season, a Symphony No.1, given under Albert Coates by the London Symphony Orchestra at their fourth concert [4th November 1922]. This is a three-movement work, corresponding in conception to three main moods-strife, lamentation, and exultation-respectively. It is an intensely personal type of work; but the composer synthesised what might otherwise have been rather obscure significances into such clearly-defined, though broad frescoes of musical imagery, that the work remains purely musical, and yet achieves its expressive function by direct sensatory impact-by thematic, harmonic, and orchestral colour, and rhythmic force.

Typically Celtic in thematic content, the bard-like quality of its subjects is emphasised by their generally declamatory character; and over the whole work pervades that high spirit of drama, tragedy and heroism which, even more rare than Greek art, is epitomised in such soul-gripping legends as that of Conary Mor in the ancient Red Branch Cycle of Ireland. This is the type of conception most universal to the Celtic race, Erse, Brythonic and Gael; and this work of Bax is peculiarly significant in that it provides conclusive counter-proof to the Saxon allegations of the dream-bound and esoteric nature of Celtic inspiration.

For it is not so generally recognised as it should be that the Celtic genius is responsible for some of the most vigorous elements of British tradition, from the early polyphony which culminated in the Tudor era, and the mythology which laid the foundations of medieval chivalry and the Morte d'Arthur to which English literature, from Spenser to Tennyson, owes so much.

The Chesterian January 1923 p.115

Arnold Bax: Article in The Chesterian - 'Bax in the Ascendant'

I recently found this article by Leigh Henry in an article in The Chesterian magazine. It may be a little 'overwritten' for today's tastes but it is still interesting to read how one of Britain's great composers was viewed back in 1923.

THE most prominent events since the last London Letter have nearly all centred around works by Arnold Bax, the first of these, the concert of his compositions given at Queen's Hall on November 13th, being the most noteworthy. It is no mean indication of the development and trend of public taste that so refined and advanced a musical mentality as that of Bax should be felt sufficiently attractive to warrant the dedication of a whole large concert programme exclusively to his work.
The success of Messrs. Murdoch, Murdoch and Company's undertaking justified their fine zeal in every way, both as a sound gauge of public interest, and as an aesthetic manifestation. The programme, with the opportunities for comparison, which its successive items afforded, was a conclusive proof of the wide scope of Bax's genius, a final refuta­tion of those who would label his music as precious. The range of interest and expressive capacity in a programme embracing the exquisite decorative imagery of The Garden of Fand, the personalism of the Second Piano Sonata, the lyricism of the Viola Fantasy, the luxuriant ritualism in Byzantine-like form of Mater Ora Filium, the Anatole France-like capacity to imbue medieval thought, and tradition with the most modern freshness and vitality, as in the two carols, Of a Rose I Sing, and Christymas, and the capricious joy and verve of Mediterranean, is something suggestive of super-human temperament.
Yet the identity of the personality common to all is ever-manifest in the peculiarly decorative conception which constitutes the fundamental style of each work, and which, together with the luminously poetic feeling, of which each work presents a variation, is so essentially a part of Bax's racial Celtic temperament. A fine assembly of Bax devotees were gathered to render the programme, including Harriet Cohen, who also played the Hill Tune, Lullaby, and Burlesque; John Coates, who sang the Traditional Songs of France, and The Market Girl, I Heard a Piper Piping, and Green grow the Rashes O!, Kennedy Scott, with his admirable Oriana Choir, Eugene Goossens, with his orchestra; Lionel Tertis (in the Fantasy), and Marie Goossens, Cedric Sharpe, and Victor Watson (harp, 'cello, and double-bass), assisting in the carols, with the composer at the piano, the flautist in Christymas being Robert Murchie.
Bax, indeed, has almost become regular fare. At the Barc­lays Bank Musical Society's Concert at Queen's Hall on Decem­ber 13th his carol was alongside one of Byrd; and at the second Philharmonic Society Concert, under Albert Coates, Tintagel shared interest with Strauss' Suite from Le Bourgeois Gentil­homme, a first performance beside which the Bax work stood out with refinement and distinction, the Strauss work being another of the pieces of depictive mummery (futile apart from what it illustrates) to which the German has mainly resorted since his musicality gave out.

The Chesterian January 1923 p.114

Ian Venables: A busy time composing...

I was delighted to hear that in this time of ‘economic woes’ and ‘credit crunches’ that Ian Venables career as a composer is going from strength to strength. Perhaps the most exiting work that he is working on at the moment is the large scale song cycle ‘Remember This’. This is a setting of Andrew Motion’s commemorative elegy which the poet laureate wrote after the death of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother. I am not normally a great fan of Motion’s poetry, but I do feel that this was a particularly worthy setting and is ideally suited to Venables compositional style. I look forward to hearing the first performance and especially wonder what he will make of my favourite stanza, the sixth:-

sss

On the crest of their Downs

with galloping sunlight

the horses in training

know in their bones

nothing but racing, so all they can manage

today is the beauty

of sprinting and spurting...

The composer has told me that the work is complete in draft form and that he is at present scoring it for two voices, string quartet (a favoured medium of Venables), piano and percussion which may include optional parts for tubular bells, a bell tree, a tuned gong,marimba and glockenspiel.

Equally exciting is the forthcoming performance of his fine Piano Quintet by the Coull Quartet with Mark Bebbington. Mark continues to impress enthusiasts of British music with his superb recordings of Frank Bridge, John Ireland and Howard Ferguson. This concert will be given in Worcester on 8th May (Details to follow). A recording of this Quintet and other chamber music from SOMM with the same ensemble is also on the cards.

One particular event I am looking forward to is the War Poets Concert at that great ‘socialist’ church of St. James’ Piccadilly. This will include works by John Ireland, George Butterworth, Ivor Gurney, Gerald Finzi and the lesser known John Jeffreys and Elaine Hugh-Jones. Some of Venables songs will also be performed.

Another highlight of Ian Venables year (so far) will be the release by Signum of his Song Cycle, Invite to Eternity, which are settings of four poems by the great John Clare. But perhaps the most important work on this CD will be the String Quartet Op.32. The chamber ensemble for this recording will be the Dante Quartet with the tenor Andrew Kennedy. I look forward to reviewing this CD and the recording of the Quintet!

Malcolm Arnold: Postcard from the Med

One of my favourite films is The Captain’s Paradise starring Alec Guinness. He plays a “prosperous seafaring man” who has so ordered his life that he has a wife and house at each end of the sea-trip – which he makes one or twice a week. His first home is in Gibraltar, where he has set up house with Maud (played by Celia Johnson). This is the staid side of his bigamist relationship. In this home he expects his slippers and pipe waiting for him. He enjoys the quiet life- his wife preparing his dinners and the Captain reading his newspapers.

Yet at the other end of his voyage, in Morocco, is the beautiful Nita (Yvonne de Carlo)who is the antithesis of Maud. This lady is a socialite and a party animal. She loves to be wined and dined and to dance. The contrast could not be more different. Gone are Captain Henry St. James’s pipe and slippers to be replaced by a flamboyant lifestyle.

Alas it is not to last. Both wives begin to hanker after a different routine. Maud wants to go out on the town, and Nita wants to become the archetypical housewife. And, of course, Henry wants things to stay just as they are. The film is an exploration of these comic tensions!

As I understand the situation, the score was lost or destroyed. Fortunately, Philip Lane was able to reconstruct the music from the film itself or perhaps from sketches. At any rate there is a small (four minutes only) ‘postcard’ from The Captain’s Paradise available for Malcolm Arnold enthusiasts.

The piece opens with a little seascape in miniature – complete with images of swelling seas and billowing sails. It is as if the ship is about to leave port – and the captain is about to visit the ‘other’ wife. There is even a little musical representation of the nautical term ‘Ahoy!’ But suddenly the music changes: it breaks into a full scale Latin dance band number – complete with muted brass and 'samba and rumba' rhythms. It is definitely a case of the confection by Arnold being better than the ‘real thing.’ It should be noted that this is music representing the Captain dancing with wife number two – the exotic Nita and not the homely Maud! There is a little jaunty, nautical tune that depicts the Captain – without a care in the world. But then the Latin beat returns... The piece ends almost too quickly.

The reconstruction of the film score can be heard on Malcolm Arnold Film Music Volume 2 on Chandos

John Foulds: Hellas- A Suite of Ancient Greece.

I must confess that I do not usually warm to ‘Wardour Street Orientalisms’ or ‘faux classicisms’ – however I can turn a blind to this particular work.
In 1915 Foulds composed a suite for piano- it was in five movements and was seemingly written in ‘strict’ Classical Greek Modes. This work was entitled Recollections of Ancient Greek Music. The programme notes tell us that this was a ‘slow, austere, ‘white note’ music [that was] exceedingly varied in character.’ It was perhaps typical of the composer that he claimed to have heard the piece ‘clairaudiently’ as if in a vision.

However the message from beyond did not give Foulds the complete picture. Apparently he saw these pieces as being a stop-gap and was subsequently engrossed in arranging them for different media. The Temple Chant appeared in an arrangement for 20 wind instruments! Eventually, in 1932, he scored them all for double string orchestra, harp and percussion. He added the fantastic last movement Corybantes and finally renamed the pieces to what we see today.

It would be very easy to play ‘hunt the influence’ with this work. In many ways it is written in the great tradition of ‘English String Music.’ It would be hard to miss the Vaughan Williams’ finger prints in some of this music. Yet it would be unfortunate if we were to regard this suite as being derivative. Malcolm Macdonald writes in the programme notes: - “Foulds’s Hellas – in its grave antiphony, skilfully varied textures, measured tread and melodic restraint – is like a beautifully composed Attic frieze, powerfully evocative of ancient legend, classical civilisation and clear Mediterranean light.”
The six movements explore a variety of moods, including a Solemn Temple Dance, a Processional, a profound Dirge for a Hero and a Temple Chant. But the romantic side is not forgotten: The Song of the Argive Helen is a beautiful meditation that is perhaps more English that Hellenic. The Temple Chant is perhaps a little melodramatic – yet all is forgiven in final movement. Corybantes were priests in ancient Greece who accompanied their religious rites with wild dancing. Certainly Foulds approaches this abandon with music of great feeling- it is just a pity it is too short.
It is perhaps the perfect balance of complexity and simplicity, existing somehow at the one and same time, which makes these short movements so attractive and meaningful and moving.
John Fould's Hellas: Suite of Ancient Greece is available on Lyrita

Malcolm Arnold: Popular Birthday (for William Walton)

I was listening to the three Façade Suites on the Chandos recording by the London Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted by Jan Latham-Koenig. What I had not noticed on this CD was the very short, but impressive Popular Birthday. Of course this piece is not by Walton, but was especially composed for his 70th birthday celebration concert at the Royal Festival Hall on 28th March 1972. Apparently a number of composers had combined to produce a ‘present’ for Walton. It was dedicated to him with ‘homage and every expression of friendship. Naturally each composed tried to get the ‘Happy Birthday to You’ tune in somehow. I was unable to find a complete list of the six composers but Peter Maxwell Davies, Richard Rodney Bennett, Robert Simpson and Malcolm Arnold are four of them. Any further advances on this tally will be welcome.
The only one I believe to be recorded is the Arnold – it is a triumph of pastiche crammed into a tiny aural space. The opening gesture is ‘grandioso’ as if it about to announce the opening titles of a Hollywood blockbuster. However this soon collapses leaving a quotation from the Popular Song from Façade. The programme notes suggest that “…Arnold's view of the latter is one such as Alice might have seen through her Looking Glass — hardly any beginning or middle but an ending that is twice as long as Walton's own!

The Guardian noted that the concert started ‘riotously’ and that “what more can a former enfant-terrible expect-with six musical telegrams form comparative youngsters like Richard Rodney Bennett and Peter Maxwell Davies.” The reviewer suggested that “to have six Waltonish settings of “Happy Birthday to You” was stretching a joke....” However he concludes by admitting that “each one lived up to an astonishingly brilliant standard – a tribute to the pervading influence of a composer whose every bar is recognisable.

Christopher Palmer writing in the Musical Times noted the “unannounced bonus [which] came in the form of six mini- variations on 'Happy Birthday' by six contemporary British composers, most of whom somehow managed to amalgamate their theme with various tongue-in- cheek references to Walton's own compositions. I especially liked the first and last-Richard Rodney Bennett's, punchy but unpretentious in an entirely Waltonian way, and Peter Maxwell Davies's in which Crown Imperial and what was surely a riotous aftermath of his work in The Boy Friend made strange but entertaining bedfellows”.

The only place that this appears to have been recorded is on Chandos and their ‘complete works of William Walton.

William Alwyn: Piano & Chamber Music on Lyrita

I was listening to this excellent CD the other day on the train from London to Manchester. Between train announcements, mobile phones, and an inquisitive fellow passenger I managed to hear both discs before arriving at Piccadilly.

However, last year I was able to review this music for MusicWeb and at that time I had the privacy of my study and proper ‘hi-fi’ system. It is a CD that deserves the attention of all British Music enthusiasts.
I began my review with a little anecdote…”I well remember where I bought the original 1959 Lyrita release of the Alwyn piano music – it was at pre-Fayed Harrods in about 1976. Quite why they had copies of this ‘specialist’ LP in their record browsers has always been a minor mystery to me! But to compound the situation, I had great pressure put on my laddish wallet – for next to this album were those other Lyrita gems- piano music by William Wordsworth and Franz Riezenstein. It ended up quite a haul and I could not possess myself in patience to get back to Glasgow to spin them on the turntable. I cannot now quite recall my reaction – though I do remember being seriously impressed by Wordsworth’s Cheesecombe Suite. But that is another story and another review.
I had discovered William Alwyn a few months earlier when I had heard the Symphonic Prelude: The Magic Isle. Even after all these years I can recall what impressed me about that work – it was the perfect equilibrium between ‘modern’ music and an almost ‘film-like’ romanticism. The Fantasy Waltzes are full of this balance between contemporary and retro. It was written after Alwyn had visited Grieg’s lakeside home at Troldhaugen near Bergen. Originally the intention was to compose a short suite of ‘salon’ style pieces rather in the manner of one of the Norwegian master’s collections of Lyric Pieces. However it soon became much greater than the sum of the parts: it is a long work, lasting some 33 minutes...”
Please read my full review at MusicWeb International

Edgar L Bainton on Sir Charles Villiers Stanford

I recently came across a tribute to the great Charles Villiers Stanford in a copy of Music & Letters. These included words by Vaughan Williams, George Dyson, Ivor Gurney and Herbert Howells. However the one that caught my eye was by the relatively unknown composer Edgar L Bainton.

AT a meeting of the Council of the R.C.M. in the early days, the late Archbishop of Canterbury proposed that a chapel should be added to the College buildings. Stanford immediately rose and said that if the proposal was carried, the council would have to erect one altar for the Roman Catholics, another for the High Churchmen, a third for the Low Churchmen, a shrine for the Buddhists and a bath for the Baptists, and that within half-an-hour of the opening there would be bleeding noses all round.

This incident, related to me by Sir Charles himself, is typical of the man. His broadmindedness in religious matters, his keen sense of humour, and perhaps a latent fear that the zeal of the students might outrun their discretion, were three dominant qualities in his character. The last, in particular, is an important factor in considering Stanford's work as a teacher. He always feared lest his pupils might " lose their heads."

In a recent conversation with the writer, Sir Charles indeed expressed the opinion that most of them had " gone too far," that they had carried their modernity beyond the limits of good sense. When it was pointed out to him that almost every one of his pupils differed entirely from every other, both in musical outlook and in manner of expression, and that this fact was surely the greatest possible tribute to his teaching, he merely shook his head and replied that [William]Hurlstone was almost the only one who had kept sane.

Stanford's teaching seemed to be without method or plan. His criticism consisted for the most part of " I like it, my boy," or " It's damned ugly, my boy " (the latter in most cases). In this, perhaps, lay its value. For in spite of his conservatism, and he was intensely and passionately conservative in music as in politics, his amazingly comprehensive knowledge of musical literature of all nations and ages made one feel that his opinions, however irritating, had weight. He expressed his judgments upon the work of his contemporaries with an almost naive candour, and in consequence made many enemies. Referring to Strauss's use of the tam-tam in the death-bed section of Tod und Verkldrung, he said: " I shouldn't like to go out to the sound of a tam-tam."

On the occasion of my last visit to him he showed me some parodies which he had written upon several modern composers. It is to be hoped that eventually his executors will permit their publication. Whatever opinions may be held upon Stanford's music, and they are many and various, it is, I think, always recognised that he was a master of means. Everything he turned his hand to always " comes off."

Whenever English musicians meet together, the conversation sooner or later centres upon Stanford. Only a big personality has this power of diverting the current.
EDGAR L. BAINTON
Music & Letters Volume 5 No. 3 July 1924 Pages 200/201

William Blezard: Second Sonatina for Piano

The Second Sonatina (1970s) was written for Donald Swann – one half of Flanders and Swann. Of course he was a composer in his own right and is perhaps best remembered today for the Hippopotamus Song. But let it not be forgotten that he composed many musicals and operas and contributions to Hoffnung’s Musical Festivals. As an aside, the one work that deserves to be recorded and made available is the Song Cycle ‘A Collection of Songs’ on poems by John Betjeman. Blezard knew Swann well in his capacity as a musical director in fact he had met Swann through his wife-to-be, Joan Kemp Potter. And it was through him that Blezard was introduced to Joyce Grenfell with whom he was to have a successful working relationship as her accompanists. So it is fitting that this jazz-influenced work should be dedicated to his friend and colleague. 

The Second Sonatina opens with a lively first movement. This not jazz pastiche – but is actually a rather good fusion of styles. Nods in the direction of Billy Mayerl and Bartok are plentiful. The second movement is marked lirico and is actually extremely lyrical. It has an attractive melody supported by conventional but sometimes slightly acerbic chords. This is very much in the world of the cocktail lounge although perhaps the taste would be a little too bitter for the Ritz? There are touches of Ireland in some of the figuration and a little syncopation is never far away: it is a very beautiful movement. The ‘vigoroso’ is a nod in the direction of Billy Mayerl and is almost pure ‘novelty’ piano writing. In fact Blezard had to use conventional jazz notation in the score to get his point across.

For the life of me I cannot see why this Sonatina is not in the repertoire. It would be a hit on classic FM and even Radio 3 listeners would be impressed at the subtle use of styles and moods. As an encore the last movement would be very popular.

William Blezard’s Second Sonatina can be heard on Eric Parkin’s recording on the Priory Label.

Paul Carr: Air for Strings

It is often not easy to evaluate whether a piece of music should be classified as ‘light’ or otherwise. In fact, it can quite difficult to define exactly what we mean by ‘otherwise’. For example, are Mozart’s Divertimentos or Schubert’s Ländler ‘light’ or are they ‘art’ music? I guess that most critics would be appalled at attaching such a ‘demeaning’ label to Wolfgang or Franz. Yet I believe that much of their music is not designed to be anything other than entertaining. These are not works that are storming the gates of heaven! However, the man or woman on the Clapham Routemaster would probably say - if they knew about such things - that Eric Coates wrote ‘light’ music. And so did Robert Farnon, Sidney Torch and Trevor Duncan. They would almost certainly deny the honour to Elgar or to Vaughan Williams, who they would imagine were perpetually serious. However, the cognoscenti know that both of those composers wrote a deal of music that does not challenge the listeners understanding –Mina, Salut d’Amour, the English Folk Song Suite and so forth. But they are enjoyable and minor masterpieces in their own right.

Now where does his leave Paul Carr’s fine Air for Strings? It has been recently released on an album entitled ‘Light Music Premieres – Volume 5’ by Dutton Epoch – so a definition seems to have already been established – at least in Dutton’s mind. I contend otherwise. Even on the least attentive hearing of this work, it reveals a mood and a style that approaches the depth of Samuel Barber’s ubiquitous Adagio for Strings. And I am not exaggerating to make a point. Paul Carr’s work is profound music that is quite capable of deeply moving the listener and bringing a genuine tear to the eye. It is ‘art’ music at its best – and serious to boot. The listener experiences the sense of deep loss and perhaps even of tragedy. And for the record, let us just say that the emotional and historical background of the piece was a separation, a splitting up from, a beloved partner…

Please read the full article at MusicWeb International

York Bowen: Fantasia in G minor for Organ Op.136

The organ works of York Bowen are few and far between. Apart from the present piece I know that there is a Melody in G minor and a transcription of the Somerset Suite (a desideratum for me in its orchestral incarnation).
The Fantasia was composed in 1949 and was duly published by Novello in 1952. It is quite clear to even the casual listener that this work would have been regarded as being somewhat retro when given its first performance at All Souls Langham Place in June 1951. It was a part of an impressive organ recital delivered by Arnold Richardson, the borough organist of Wolverhampton. It was the fourth in a series of recitals for the Festival of Britain celebrations.
Bowen’s Fantasia was played back to back with Elisabeth Lutyens’s 1948 Suite. The Times reviewer felt that although these two works are “only separated in date by a year, [the two works] are poles apart in spirit, the one proving as fleshy in its romanticism as the other was like bare (but not dry) bones in its austerity”. The Times Monday, June 18, 1951 p.2.

The Musical Times critic considered that “Arnold Richardson gallantly tackled a programme containing three first performances.” He considered that Bowen’s Fantasia in G minor “proved [to be] a rich and satisfying work…it is perhaps a little too right-handed for the organ (though did not Wagner make the same complaint of Chopin's piano writing?), but it is a specimen that one would like to have in print”. The Musical Times October 1951, p.460

A year or so later, when the score was published, the Musical Times noted: “When a well-known piano professor and composer embarks upon a full-length Fantasia for organ he should be assured of an attentive hearing". He wrote that “it came in a programme where its full-blooded romanticism made a pleasing contrast to the neo-baroque of Arnell and the tortured trickle of Elisabeth Lutyens. It has indeed a faintly dated air, less from its style than from its thought, though much of the writing is frankly chordal and tends to sound dull on the organ. The subject-matter is not strong, and there is far too much of it, so that the work as a whole seems diffuse. The Musical Times October 1952 p. 453.

Apparently York Bowen responded to this review by saying "How disgusting! Not because they don't like my piece but because they can take that Lutyens thing seriously! It is just dreadful to find this and I refuse to take any notice of ordinary newspaper critics -and no wonder! “ I don’t think my organ piece is ‘romantic’ at all…it is quite severe in parts! Silly asses!”

Listening to this work more than half a century later, it is certainly possible to see both points of view. There is definitely much about this music that is ‘romantic’ and certainly even the briefest of glances at the score show that it is perhaps more ‘pianistic’ than specifically devised for the organ. Certainly Bowen makes considerable use of octaves in the right hand, arpeggios and chromatic scale figurations. But it does work. And there are many passages where the added- note harmony and slippery tonality give lie to any suggestion that this is souped-up Chopin or Liszt.

For the record, the other works in Arnold Richardson's impressive programme were Richard Arnell’s Second Sonata, Josef Holbrooke’s ‘outsize’ Bayreuthian G minor Prelude and Ralph Vaughan Williams ‘gentle ‘Rhosymedre’ Prelude.

York Bowen's Fantasia can be heard on: Langham Place Fantasia Priory PRCD817 Gerald Brooks on the organ of All Soul’s Langham Place. [with works by Ives, Hollins, Martin, Bliss, Tredinnick, Coates etc.]

Frank Bridge: Violin Sonata

Frank Bridge's Violin Sonata (H183) is not particularly familiar. It was composed in 1922 and duly dedicated to Mrs Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge, the wealthy American arts patron.

This is a great Sonata and it is surprising that it is so little known and even less often recorded. It is a work that is part of the cluster of post-Great War compositions that were to mark a sea-change in Bridge's style. Gone is the pastoralism and naked romanticism. Instead the composer work in a complex musical language complete with nods to atonality, polytonality and bitonality. Yet somehow there is still a reflection of the old composer underlying this 'modernism.'

The Sonata is constructed in one movement - lasting just under 20 minutes. It is composed in four sections or episodes. The first is a complex and involved but never academic 'Allegro molto moderato'. This is followed by troubled 'Andante' that explores the depths of despair. It is almost scary in places. The 'Vivo e capriccioso' is Scherzo-like but with some dark passages. The work ends as it begins, Allegro molto moderato'. There is certainly no consummation here. It is still shot through with pain and grief and a sense of futility.

I include transcriptions of two reviews from the contemporary pages of the Musical Times:
I have read Frank Bridge's new Sonata for pianoforte and violin with considerable pleasure. It is pleasant to consider music such as this, noting the easy mastery of modern idiom, the sure instinct for shapeliness of phrase and period. But the pleasure was not unalloyed. At times I had the uneasy feeling that Bridge is giving up his birthright as a gifted melodist for a mess of modern harmonies not native to his style. His technique is allowed to get the upper hand of his inspiration, and the most modern tricks suggest expediency rather than profound conviction. Such at any rate are the impressions of a reader. A perfect performance may possibly cast out our fears and solve our doubts.
Musical Times (January 1934 p.43)

Frank Bridge's Sonata, completed in 1932, proved a vigorous example of its composer's mature style -very individual, very masterful in its treatment of the material, and very effectively written for the instruments. Structurally it is close-packed, containing the essential four movements of cyclic form compressed into one, which, far from sounding rigid, gives an impression of energetic order and freedom. It was extremely well played by Antonio Brosa and Harold Samuel, and the composer was called to the platform at the close. Not one of the least pleasures of the evening was to watch how delicately perceptive these players were to the different tone-values and styles of the music. Heroic in the Bridge Sonata, nothing could have exceeded their loving refinement and small-but perfect-scale of tone-values in the Mozart Trio. In Faure's Quartet the playing was as refined, but several degrees larger, lit up by French chic. The crisp phrases for pianoforte, against the softly rounded pizzicato accompaniment of the strings in the Scherzo, were really enchanting. M. M. S.
Musical Times (February 1934 p.174)

The Frank Bridge Violin Sonata is currently available on two CDs – English Impressions with Lydia Jardon and Mireille Jardon and a disc that includes the Maurice Ravel Violin Sonatas performed by Charles Libove and Nina Lugovoy
It can also be appreciated on You Tube Part 1; Part 2; Part 3 & Part 4

Ralph Vaughan Williams: A Cappella Music from All Hallows, Gospel Oak

I recently had the pleasure of reviewing this fine album of a cappella music by Ralph Vaughan Williams. I began by stating that “I cannot rate this CD too highly. From every possible angle it is an essential purchase for anyone who claims an interest in British music. Firstly, the singing is superb. Even allowing for my preference for an all-male choir such as Kings’ College Cambridge, in any performance of the Mass in G minor, I cannot fault this version in any way. Secondly the repertoire is brilliantly chosen. Laudibus have selected some exceptionally well known pieces – Ca’ the Yowes, Greensleeves and the Mass and have complemented them with works that are virtually discoveries – at least to me.

I was concerned to point out that this CD explores a number of trajectories within the composer’s output – “It is easy to fall into the trap of regarding Vaughan Williams as a ‘pastoral’ composer or perhaps someone whose music is derived solely from folk-song. These generalisations do however have some grounding in fact. One only needs to think of the interminable repetitions of the Lark Ascending, Greensleeves and the Folksong Suite on Classic FM. Yet this is not the whole truth. Even a cursory hearing of a cross-section of RVW’s music reveals a wide range of influences – folksong, yes, but also Tudor music, the impressionism of Wenlock Edge, the neo-classicism of the Concerto Accademico and perhaps the biting, almost Stravinskian, dissonances of the Fourth Symphony. The present CD explores a few of these trajectories, in a well-balanced programme.
Please read my full review at MusicWeb International

Montague Phillips: Surrey Suite Op.59

This is one of my favourite Montague Phillips's pieces. This is not because it is necessarily the most musical or because it has any great profound statements to make about life and existence. It is simply that this is a musical portrayal of one of my best loved places – Surrey and the Royal Park at Richmond. To my mind this landscape epitomises much that for me is England; the generally wooded aspect of this landscape gives point to this opinion, in spite of the massive incursion of urban sprawl.

Over the last thirty five or so years I have many happy memories of exploring the park and the Surrey countryside. This music brings to mind glorious days of wandering through a sun-dappled landscape, the long views towards Windsor Castle and the secret vision of St Paul’s Cathedral through the long ride in the woods. The Market at Kingston presents to me the bustle of a half dozen market towns along the banks of the Thames – including Richmond, Twickenham, Teddington and Hampton Court; evenings of drinking Fullers ‘Chiswick’ beer by the river with good friends.

Montague Phillips lived in the Surrey town of Esher for many years, and no doubt spent much time exploring the surrounding countryside. The nineteen-thirties was a time of rapid expansion of the boundaries of Greater London. It was the time of Greenline Country Buses. Esher, along with many other places, was developing from sleepy market town to dormitory town for the sleep of commuters to the city. This was the age of hiking and rambling at weekends. Tudor style roadhouses and pubs were the order of the day. Ploughman’s lunches were devised by the Milk Marketing Board to sell more cheese.

The music of the Surrey Suite is presented in three movements: Richmond Park; The Shadowy Pines and Kingston Market. It is perhaps wrong of Lewis Foreman to suggest in his programme notes that ‘the Surrey that Phillips knew was not choked with cars and over-development as it is now...’ As noted above, by the time this Suite was composed, much of what we regard as urban sprawl was well on the way; there were some three million cars on the road and bypasses and dual carriage-ways were becoming common. What Phillips is doing is what we all do from time to time. He was re-creating musically an image or a picture of what he felt Surrey used to be like – or more appositely what he would like it to be like. Nearly seventy years on, the Surrey I think of or walk hand in hand down a country lane at Shere, is much the same as depicted here by Phillips. It is as much a creation of the mind as a description of an actual landscape.

The first movement opens with a walk or perhaps a canter through the park. This is fine music that is lightly and subtly scored. The main tune is sequential in an almost Handelian manner. Who could not be happy listening to this music? Who would not want to be tramping across the grass looking at the herd of deer and at St Paul’s on the horizon? There follows a slightly more melancholic tune – almost Sullivan-esque in its demeanour. This leads to an intense passage before returning to the canter and close.

The Shadowy Pines is a beautiful reflective piece. It has an interesting and inspiring tune for the main thematic material. The composer quite obviously wears his heart on his sleeve – but so what? This is the loveliest moment on this CD. There is a big climax which the composer closes down into a gorgeous meditation for solo violin. The movement finishes pianissimo.
The opening to the third and last movement reminds me of Benjamin Frankel’s well known Carriage and Pair. This is a jaunt through the town centre – probably in an open top tourer rather than a chaise! There is all the bustle we would expect of a vibrant market town – although the music makes room for a quiet pint in a pub by the riverside. The brass scoring is first-rate and the work finishes with a good downward woodwind swirl.

The Surrey Suite is included on Montague Phillips Volume 1 on Dutton Epoch CDLX 7140.

Dorothy Howell: The Moorings for Violin & Piano

It is sad that Dorothy Howell’s music is so little known to the general musical public. And the lack of recordings and performances do not help to increase her standing. At present there is only one disc devoted to her music – the Chamber Music CD from Dutton Epoch. Even the Dorothy Howell Trust which is presumably charged with the preservation and promotion of her music does not appear to have a web site or an email address.
Yet Howell was quite a prolific composer and went considerably beyond the chamber works so well explored on the CD. In fact there is a Piano Concerto, an orchestral tone poem Lamia, championed by Sir Henry Wood, a symphonic piece called Three Divertissements and a ballet Koong Shee (1923) I first came across her music many years ago when I found a copy of her piano Pieces For the Bairns. Strangely this is not easy or simple music and requires a sympathetic and mature technique to bring them off. The title is misleading.

I was recently listening to The Moorings, which surely must be one of Howell’s most attractive miniatures. The work was originally published by Augener in 1925 for ‘cello and piano although it was soon issued as an arrangement for violin and piano.
Celia Patterson, writing in the sleeve notes of the CD, suggests that much of the composer’s music was “inspired by nature and landscape” and felt that The Moorings was a good example of this art.

The piece is some five minutes long and has a sound-world not far removed from Cyril Scott or perhaps even Debussy. For all its ‘waterscape painting’ and musical description of the “gentle ebb and flow of the shallows” in the melodic and rhythmic devices she uses, this work is hardly a piece of salon music. The language is sophisticated, lyrical and surprisingly modern without nodding to any particular school of composition. It is a fine, short introduction to the music of this largely forgotten composer.

Jill Hopkins writing in the Worcestershire News states that “The Moorings, [is] the most beautiful composition [on this CD]. It is quiet and thoughtful, the violin pensive in its lower registers, and piano offering short rippling phrases.” The Penguin Guide to Recorded Classical Music suggests that although “no strong personality emerges, she is a composer of distinct culture…” They consider that her Violin Sonata, the Phantasy and the Piano Studies are “well worth saving from virtual oblivion.”
I would suggest that if we could hear more of her music, her personality may well assert itself.
Listen to Lorraine McAslan and Sophia Rahman playing this work on Dutton Epoch CDLX 7144.