It’s not British, but Olivier Messiaen’s La Nativité du Seigneur

For me, La Nativité du Seigneur was entry level for Olivier Messiaen’s music. At the Church of Scotland in Glasgow, where I attended in the mid-1970s, the organist Kenneth Dawkins was a great enthusiast of this composer. He used to play some of the slower music from La Nativité as an opening voluntary. The congregation did not appreciate it. They preferred Handel’s Largo, Easthope Martin’s Evensong and even my own offering of Procul Harum’s A Whiter Shade of Pale. Mr Dawkins played the entire suite for me in private. As a teenager, I was amazed by the sound world of Messiaen’s music heard in that organ loft. It all sounded so modern and even dangerously advanced, despite having been written some 40 years previously. I came to like La Nativité and many of Messiaen’s other organ works, probably because my elders and ‘betters’ didn’t’.

Olivier Messiaen’s La Nativité du Seigneur was written in 1935 when he was only 27 years old. It was to decisively establish his reputation. Whether one likes or detests the composer’s music, this work is usually regarded as a masterpiece. La Nativité consists of nine meditations on the theme of the Nativity. But it is more than just the Christmas Story in music. It follows the events from the Virgin Birth to the Epiphany where God is revealed in Jesus Christ. Messiaen has built the work around his profound theological insights which can be discovered in any commentary on this work.

In fact, La Nativité du Seigneur is a relatively benign piece of music to listen to. It is infinitely much harder to play and analyse. The good news is that the listener is entitled to ignore the technicalities of synthetic modes and scales of limited transposition, the added value rhythms, the chains of augmented fifths chords, and other harmonic devices. Just hearing this music should be enough to bring enjoyment, satisfaction, and possibly some spiritual uplift.

I remember a friend telling me that she enjoyed the sound of this music but did not ‘get’ the religious symbolism. For her, this spoilt the entire experience. I am OK with the underlying theology, but can see from where she, and I guess many others, are coming from. There is a solution. The composer himself noted that some of the inspiration for this work came from the mountainous landscape around Grenoble where it was written. And then the whole kaleidoscopic imagery of French stained-glass windows fed into his imagination. Messiaen was ‘afflicted’ by chromesthesia, which is the ability to perceive various colours when hearing certain chords and notes, and presumably vice versa. I understand that there are also some early allusions to birdsong. All this leads me to think that La Nativité can be enjoyed as an abstract piece of music inspired by the numinous effect of light and landscape.

Currently, 19 versions of La Nativité are listed in the Archiv catalogue. Enthusiasts of this work will probably have a fair selection of them in their collections. I listen to La Nativité once a year, usually at Christmastide. For many years, my ‘go-to’ recording was played by Messiaen-specialist Jennifer Bate (Regis). As part of my preparation for this review, I revisited ‘Le Verbe’ from her recital. It is my favourite movement from this work and the one I use to judge other performances. I listened to the same piece played by Arkadiusz Bialic. It has all the attributes of a perfect performance and a considerable flair for interpretation. The balance between the power and the majesty of the meditation’s opening section and the long, almost timeless, lyricism reflecting the ‘eternal divine and ever-present word’ is ideal.

Throughout La Nativité Bialic’s pace seems just about right. Equally exciting was his registrations which are valuable for their interesting tonal colouring. I was enchanted by his magical playing in ‘Les Bergers’ which really did create an image of ‘a cold and frosty morning.’ Bialic is well able to create a prayerful mood, even when the music is moving rapidly. This is particularly important in the skittish ‘Les Anges’. Clearly, the final movement ‘Dieu Parmi Nous’ is a ‘Widorian’ Toccata, but even here, the result is a ‘theological’ paean of praise that brings the entire proceedings to a triumphant and optimistic conclusion: God incarnate is revealed to humankind as Jesus Christ.

The acoustic of the Divine Mercy Basilica in Cracow is excellent, allowing the powerful reed stops to be just as effective as the quieter flues and strings. I was able to hear every detail of the complex chords and ‘melodies.’

Why do some record companies insist on allowing artistic pretensions to overrule utility? The text of the booklet, which is an integral part of the gatefold CD is written in a small white font on a black background. With my eyesight it may as well be illegible. Looking at the DUX website for a .pdf download was no help. So, if I am honest, I ignored the text and listened to the music. That said, the booklet does include the full specification of the superb Woloman-based ZYCH organ. The organ builder’s website came up as unavailable, and Norton blocked an intrusion from it!

Finally, back to Kenneth Dawkins. He once told me that he and a friend had gone to hear a recital at Olivier Messiaen’s church in Paris, the Église de la Sainte-Trinité. They were all set for some of the Frenchman’s great organ suites. Imagine their surprise when the maestro presented an all-Bach programme.

Track Listing:

livier MESSIAEN (1908-92)

La Nativité du Seigneur (1935)

Arkadiusz Bialic (organ)

Rec. The Divine Mercy Basilica, Cracow, 23-24 November 2018

DUX 1557

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

Celebrating Geoffrey Bush’s 100th Anniversary

Geoffrey Bush (1920-98) is largely the preserve of enthusiasts of 20^th century British music. He is never heard on Classic FM and rarely features on Radio 3. Despite composing many outstanding orchestral works, he has only had three ‘done’ at the Proms, the most recent being 1958.  Occasionally, his music is heard at concert and recital performances.

Geoffrey Bush’s catalogue is extensive and includes two excellent symphonies, several operas, incidental music for stage, a large amount of chamber music, and many choral and vocal works. As a composer, Bush was most comfortable writing songs and opera. His interest in English Literature is obvious in the wide-ranging selection of texts chosen for his many settings. Yet, he was often discouraged by the lack of interest in these songs: singers had not heard of most of them, never mind committed to giving performances. He is now (possibly) best recalled for his Overture: Yorick and his Christmas Cantata.

Stylistically, Bush writes in a conservative and straightforward style. He sometimes looks back to earlier composers with such pieces as the archaic Consort Music and the Matthew Locke (1621-77) Suite for piano and orchestra. Another side of Bush’s achievement was his skill as a musical editor. There are definitive editions of songs by Hubert Parry, Charles Villiers Stanford, and John Ireland to his credit.

Brief Biography of Geoffrey Bush:

• Born at 84 Strode Road, Kilburn, London on 23 March 1920.
• He was a chorister at Salisbury Cathedral for several years.
• Bush entered Lancing College in 1933.
• Received the Nettleship Scholarship in 1938 to ‘go up’ to Baliol College, Oxford where he completed his B. Mus in 1940.
• During the Second World War Bush he was a committed pacifist.
• Employed as a warden at a hostel in Monmouth for ‘difficult’ evacuees in lieu of military service.
• Studied with John Ireland after the end of the war.
• Composed his best-known work Overture: Yorick (1949).
• Married Julie Kathleen McKenna on 15 April 1950.
• Premiere of the Symphony No.1 at the 1954 Cheltenham Festival.
• Employed as Staff Tutor in music at London University for 35 years between 1952 and 1987.
• Later appointments included Chairman of the Composers Guild of Great Britain and service on the Arts Council, and the Performing Right Society.
• Wrote Symphony No.2 ‘Guildford’ in 1957
• Completed the score for his opera Lord Arthur Saville’s Crime in 1972.
• Edited music of several other composers including the Songs of Stanford (1986) and Parry (1982)
• Wrote many articles and broadcast talks on musical subjects.
• Geoffrey Bush died on 24 February 1998 at his home, 43 Corringham Road, Golders Green, London.

Six Key Works

I have selected six contrasting works that can be heard on CD or download. It seems a bad idea to recommend pieces that cannot be heard.  It is unlikely that the listener will be in the right place at the appropriate time to hear a live performance of Geoffrey Bush’s Music.

There are several other works that demand interest and possible professional recording. I note these as at the end of this list. 

• Christmas Cantata for solo voices, choir, oboe, and orchestra (1947) (Saydisc CDSDL352)
• Overture: Yorick (1949) (Lyrita 252)
• Symphony No. 1 (1954) (Lyrita 252)
• Concerto for Light Orchestra (1958) (Lyrita SRCD 341)
• Concerto for trumpet, piano & strings (1962) (Lyrita REAM1131)
• Consort music for string orchestra (1989) (Naxos 8.555068)

Geoffrey Bush has had a fair selection of his music recorded. But like most composers, there are still large gaps in the catalogue. It must be hoped that some of these are ‘plugged’ in the coming years. My personal ‘wish list’ would include Rhapsody for clarinet and strings (1940), Music for orchestra (1987) and a new edition of the Concerto for oboe and strings (1948). This latter work was recorded by John Barbirolli and Evelyn Rothwell in 1956 and has been released on CD (SJB104546).

Bibliography

There is no formal biography of Geoffrey Bush. However, the composer’s two semi-autobiographical volumes, Left, Right and Centre: Reflections on Composers and Composing (London, 1983) and An Unsentimental Education and Other Musical Recollections (London, 1990), were both published by Thames. Apart from that, the interested listener must rely on the usual encyclopaedia and dictionary entries as well as CD liner notes, obituaries, and record reviews, several of which are available online. There is an entry in the National Biography prepared by John Warrack.

If you can only listen to two CDs featuring Geoffrey Bush’s music:

The two following CDs present a large proportion of Geoffrey Bush’s orchestral works and form a splendid introduction to his music:

Bush, Geoffrey, Yorick Overture (1949), Music for Orchestra (1967), Symphony No.1 (1954), Symphony No.2 (1957).  New Philharmonia Orchestra/Vernon Handley (Yorick); London Philharmonic Orchestra/Vernon Handley (Music for Orchestra); London Symphony Orchestra/Nicholas Braithwaite (1st Symphony); Royal Philharmonic Orchestra/Barry Wordsworth. (2nd Symphony). Lyrita SRCD 252, (1995).

Bush, Geoffrey, Small Pieces for Orchestra: Concerto for Light Orchestra (1958), Natus est Immanuel - A Christmas Piece for String Orchestra (1939), Matthew Locke Suite 'Psyche' - in collaboration with Francis Harvey (c.1958), Sinfonietta Concertante for Cello and Small Orchestra (1943), Two Miniatures for String Orchestra (1948), Finale for a Concert (1964) + Ireland, John, The Holy Boy (1915) arr. cello and strings by Christopher Palmer. Raphael Wallfisch (cello) (Ireland), Northern Chamber Orchestra/Nicholas Ward Lyrita SRCD 341, (2014).

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

This is a difficult question. On the one hand, I would recommend the Yorick Overture composed in 1949. This is a delightful piece of ‘light’ music written for the National Association of Boy’s Clubs to commemorate the death of their patron, the radio and stage star Tommy Handley. Yorick is ‘a deft and ingenious little piece which young people of all ages could enjoy without any kind of effort…’

On the other hand, a deeper response to Geoffrey Bush’s muse would be the Symphony No.1 completed in 1954 and first heard at that year’s Cheltenham Festival. It certainly inhabits a different sound world to Yorick, yet as The Times (9 July 1954) reviewer noted, ‘[It is] a sane work that refrained from making heavy weather with modern anxieties.’ From the dark hued opening movement, to the ‘poco lento e con malinconia’ taking its point of departure from Constant Lambert’s Elegiac Blues for piano, to the concluding ‘Commedia de’ll Arte’ mood of the finale, this work never fails to impress. Geoffrey Bush’s First Symphony may not be a major twentieth century masterpiece, but it is a great work that does not deserve the neglect it has had over the past sixty-five years or so. It is a hugely positive example of the unfairly derided ‘Cheltenham Symphony.’

To answer the question, it depends on the listener’s mood. But I guess I would eventually plump for the sheer vibrancy of the Yorick Overture if I could only hear a single piece by Geoffrey Bush. Despite its general mood of gaiety, there is enough reflection in the middle section ‘funeral march’ for ‘That Man Again’ to gain an impression of the composer’s more serious side.

Both works can be heard on the above mentioned Lyrita SRCD 252 issued in 1995.  They have been uploaded to YouTube (Yorick) and (Symphony No.1)

Sir Alexander Campbell Mackenzie Complete Music for Solo Piano Volume Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Track Listing:

Alexander Campbell MACKENZIE (1847-1935)

Rustic Scenes, op.9 (1876)

Five Pieces, op.13 (1877)

Sehnsucht (1862)

Ungarisch (1862)

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

Fantasia, op.70 (1909)

Christopher Howell (piano)

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

Sheva Collection SH229 

Sir Alexander Campbell Mackenzie Complete Music for Solo Piano Volume One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Track Listing:

Alexander Campbell MACKENZIE (1847-1935)

Six Compositions, op.20 (1879

Trois Morceaux, op.15 (1877)

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

English Air with Variations, op.81 (1915)

Christopher Howell (piano)

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

Sheva Collection SH221

Celebrating Peter Racine Fricker’s 100th Anniversary

Peter Racine Fricker (1920-90) is often regarded as an énfant terrible of British music: especially by people who do not know his music. Yet, he was once deemed to be one of the most promising post-war composers (along with Humphrey Searle and Iain Hamilton). Fricker has a reputation of being a radical. Certainly, his prevailing aesthetic was far removed from the pastoralism of Vaughan Williams and the post-Elgarian bombast of William Walton. Instead, he turned towards Arnold Schoenberg, Béla Bartok, and Igor Stravinsky for musical inspiration. Looking back on his musical achievement from 2020, we see a composer who created ‘an impressive body of work in his highly expressive, urbane and freely atonal language.’ (Lyrita CD Advert). Critically, it has been suggested that the lack of interest in Fricker’s music may be that its style falls between two stools: too traditional for the late twentieth century avant-garde enthusiasts and too ‘modern’ (‘progressive’ and ‘aggressive’) for more traditional listeners.

Brief Biography of Peter Racine Fricker

• Peter Racine Fricker was born in Ealing, London on 5 September 1920. As his name implies, he was a descendant of the French playwright Jean Racine.
• After attending St Paul’s School, London, Fricker entered the Royal College of Music (RCM). His tutors were R.O. Morris for composition and Ernest Bullock for organ.
• Five years of war service were completed between 1941-1946. Fricker was a radio operator in the Royal Airforce.
• After the war, Fricker had further lessons with the Hungarian emigré composer Mátyás Seiber at Morley College.
• Fricker married Audrey Clench in 1943.       
• In 1947 he secured the A.J. Clements Prize for his Wind Quintet, op.5.
• Two years later, Fricker gained the Koussevitzky prize with his Symphony No.1.
• In 1951 Fricker won the Arts Council Festival of Britain competition for young composers’ prize with his Violin Concerto. He was aged 31 years.
• Fricker accepted the headship of Morley College (1952-64) succeeding Michael Tippett.
• Three years later he was appointed Professor of Music (1955-64) at the RCM.
• In 1964, Fricker moved to the United Stated as visiting professor of music at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and in 1970 he became Chair of the Music Department there.
• Fricker was appointed composer-in-residence of the Santa Barbara Symphony Orchestra in 1989.90
• Peter Racine Fricker died in Santa Barbara on 1 February 1990.

Fricker’s compositions include five symphonies, several concertos, numerous chamber music pieces and various piano and organ works as well as the major choral work The Vision of Judgement, recently released on Lyrita. It is unfortunate that after Fricker moved to the United States, his music was largely forgotten, certainly until the recent revival by the recording industry. 

Bibliography

At present (2020), there is no standard biography of Peter Racine Fricker. Details of his life and work must be pieced together from dictionary and encyclopaedia entries as well as obituaries and other published sources. Detailed analysis of his music is limited to a handful of dissertations and thesis as well as references in the several studies of British post-war music. An important chapter in Francis Routh’s Contemporary British Music was published in 1972 and available online at MusicWeb International. Several essential articles about the composer are available in Music and Musicians, The Listener, and Music Review. There are plenty of historic concert and CD reviews in daily newspapers and music journals. The University of California, Santa Barbara maintains an ‘online’ catalogue as well as the Fricker Archive. There is no website devoted to the composer. 

I have posted a dozen articles and reviews of Fricker’s music on my blog, The Land of Lost Content. Essays here include a detailed study of the Wind Quintet, op.5 (Part I and Part II) and the Rondo Scherzoso (1947) as well as a comprehensive review of the Naxos recording of the String Quartets. 

Six Key Works:

Any appreciation of Peter Racine Fricker’s music is hampered by the lack of available recordings. At present, the Archiv website lists a dozen CDs which between them features about 20 works. Exploring file sharing groups and YouTube will reveal many more. Yet, any assessment must be based on commercially recorded music. Certainly, Fricker seems to rarely feature in the concert hall or recital room. The listener is fortunate in having recordings of the five symphonies, the Concerto for Violin and Small Orchestra op. 11 and The Vision of Judgement (all on Lyrita) as well as the Naxos disc of the complete string quartets and the complete organ works from Toccata.  

So, the list of five key works is limited to what is available on CD, download or streaming.  Check YouTube for uploads of these works. The first two pieces are immediately approachable: 

• ·         Rondo Scherzoso (1948) (Lyrita REAM.2136)
• ·         Comedy Overture Op. 32 (1958) (Lyrita REAM.2136)
• ·         Litany for double string orchestra, op.25 (1956)
• ·         Symphony No.2 op.14 (1950-51) (Lyrita REAM.2136)
• ·         Violin Concerto op.11 (1950, rev.1974) (Lyrita SRCD.276) 

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

The Litany for double string orchestra, op.25 (1956) may appear to be a strange work to recommend. However, I think that this piece could be regarded as entry level to Peter Racine Fricker. It was completed in 1955 and was premiered at the following year’s Cheltenham Festival. At the time, the work evoked superficial comparisons with Vaughan Williams’s Tallis Fantasia and Michael Tippett’s Double Concerto for string orchestra. In fact, Fricker’s music is edgier and bleaker than the older composers. The powerful effect of this music is derived from the plainsong motive and various tonal and 12-tone techniques deployed. Despite the austere nature of Litany, Fricker handles his material with skill resulting in some excellent scoring. It has been uploaded to YouTube.

Fricker’s achievement in composition has been summed up by Colin Mason, writing nearly 60 years ago: ‘All his works are distinguished by their concentration of thought, harmonic density, subtlety and inventiveness of structure and originality of design.’  

It’s not British, but…French Virtuoso Organ Music played by Gillian Weir

I remember buying the original 1977 vinyl album of French Virtuoso Organ Music played by Gillian Weir in the Symphony One record shop in Bath Street, Glasgow (long closed). It was my introduction to the organ music of Marcel Dupré. Like many of my LPs this one was disposed of when moving home.

The opening work is Dupré’s well-loved Variations sur un [Vieux] Noël, op.20. The story goes that it was composed during a train journey in the United States. Structurally, the piece consists of ten variations on the French carol ‘Noël nouvelet’. The Variations themselves are of three types: melodically unaltered with the ‘interest’ in the accompaniment, those where the tune becomes well and truly hidden in the texture and finally where the melody is heard in canon (following each other around).  The final variation presents the carol as the subject of a fugue with various entries using the same theme but written in different note values. The work ends with an impressive carillon, bringing the work to a breath-taking conclusion. The trick in playing this work is to exploit that maximum amount variety derived from the registrations. Gillian Weir rises to the challenge here in presenting a vibrant palette of colourful stops.

The track listing seems to have got a wee bit confused with details of Saint-Saëns’ Fantaisie. It states that it is op.159. Looking at the composer’s catalogue indicates that this opus number was applied to a song: ‘Hymne à la paix’ composed in 1919 for high voice and piano. Now, Saint-Saëns wrote three Fantaisies for organ: No.1 in E flat major (no opus number) (1857), No.2 in D flat major op.101 (1895) and No. 3, op.157 in C major (1919). The work that Gillian Weir has so brilliantly recorded is in fact the Fantaisie No.1: I have checked this to the score. This was the composer’s earliest published work. This Fantaisie is conceived in two parts, with a ‘bubbling’ opening section where ‘flutes chase one another across the manual’, whilst the second part is a feisty march closing with a triumphant coda. It remains the composer’s best-loved work for the King or Instruments (aside from the ubiquitous Organ Symphony). 

Any extracts from Louis Vierne’s 24 Pièces de Fantaisie are always a worthy additions to any recital. Gillian Weir has included three excellent examples. ‘Feux Follets’ from the second Suite of this collection is one of the composer’s most ‘impressionistic’ pieces. The title is translated as ‘Will o’ the Wisp’. A glance at the score shows that this is a seriously tricky piece, despite it relatively restrained mood. It could be described as a scherzo in search of a tune, which never quite appears.

‘Naïades’ (which is spelt in the track listing as ‘Naides’) is another virtuosic scherzo. The title relates to mythical female beings, the Water Nymphs, often associated with streams and running water. This liquid allusion is made with increasingly complex scales, subtle chromaticism and well-contrived impressionistic devices. It is my favourite piece on this CD and is played with bewitching craft.

The ‘Toccata’ is a splendid example of the genre. It is written in the ‘difficult’ key of B flat minor (five flats) and is a perpetuum mobile, with little respite.  Demanding an exceptional technique, this work presents a ‘relentlessly drumming’ sound which leads to a triumphant and convincing conclusion. It remains one of Louis Vierne’s most popular pieces.

Jacques Charpentier’s ‘L’Ange a la Trompette’ was his debut organ work. It was composed in 1954 whilst he was still a student. The music has several influences including Jehan Alain, Olivier Messiaen and Hindu music of which Charpentier made a special study. The title, ‘The Angel with the Trumpet’ refers to the Angel of the Apocalypse in the New Testament book of Revelation. The music conjures up an image of ‘angelic beings flood[ing] in from every corner of the universe, spread across the sky in their awesome magnificence.’ It is hard to understand why this early masterpiece is so infrequently played.

Marcel Dupré’s hugely powerful Symphony No.2 in C sharp minor, op. 26 was published in 1929. The opening movement balances several ‘panels’ of contrasting music including a harsh and violent opening passage, scuttering semiquavers, a quiet but menacing excursion on soft string stops and a grotesque ‘fanfare’. The ‘Intermezzo’ is hardly relaxing. This music is ominous and strangely astringent. The final movement is a blistering ‘Toccata’ which ticks all the boxes for a classic French ‘finale’. Here the sinister chords, which may suggest a ‘march’ are balanced by a short section of uneasy repose, before the piece concludes with powerful peroration based on the music previously heard. 

It is redundant to state that Gillian Weir presents a masterclass in French organ music performance on this CD. Equally unnecessary to maintain that the three manual Hradetzky Organ in Royal Northern College of Music is a splendid instrument. The remastering of the ‘old’ 1976 vinyl recording is near perfect. The readable and informative liner notes are written by Gillian Weir specially for this reissue. The essential technical specification of the organ is included.

I noted above that I got rid of this LP many years ago. Since that time, I have attended several of Gillian Weir's recitals and I have heard the Hradetzky Organ on a couple of occasions. But it is fantastic to have this exciting, technically demanding and imaginative recording in my library once again.

Track Listing:

Marcel DUPRÉ (1886-1971) Variations sur un Noël, op.20 (1922)

Camille SAINT-SAËNS (1835-1921) Fantaisie No. 1 in E flat major (1857)

Louis VIERNE (1870-1937) Feux Follets, from 24 Pièces de fantaisie: Deuxième Suite op.53 no.4 (1926); Naïades, from 24 Pièces de fantaisie: Quatrième Suite, op.55, no.4 (1927); Toccata in B flat major from 24 Pièces de fantaisie: Deuxième Suite op.53, no.6 (1926)

Jacques CHARPENTIER (1933-2017) L’Ange a la trompette (1954)

Marcel DUPRÉ Symphony No.2, op.26 (1929)

Gillian Weir (organ)

Rec. Hradetzky Organ, Royal Northern College of Music, Manchester. November 1976

ELOQUENCE CLASSICS 481 8742

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

Some thoughts on E.J. Moeran’s Theme and Variations for piano (1920) Part 2

The ‘premiere’ performance of Theme and Variations was given by Moeran during the 469^th concert of the Oxford and Cambridge Musical Club held on 27 May 1920. One interesting aside is an entry into the Club’s Suggestion Book that ‘it should be possible for members to buy tobacco at the club’ It is signed by the composer. Moeran had taken up pipe-smoking in his army days and continued until the end of his life. (Maxwell, 2014). The Club did not take him up on the proposition.

The first ‘public’ performance of the Theme and Variations was advertised in The Times on 10 October 1921. Miss Dorothea Vincent was billed to play the work at the Wigmore Hall on Friday 14 October at 3:15 pm.  The concert included three Sonatas by Scarlatti, Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No.27 in E minor, op.90 and Cyril Scott’s massive ‘Introduction and Fugue’ from his Suite No.1 for piano, op.75 (1910) Reporting on the concert, the unsigned critic in The Times (15 October 1921) felt that:

 'we did not quite make out Mr Moeran’s music. It seemed as if it demanded the orchestra; for when the seven diatonic notes are sounded together it is obvious that some of them are substantive and intended, therefore, to be louder than others which are passing notes, and this distinction is easy for the orchestra, but difficult for fingers to make. Still, that the effect was a little ‘muddy’ did not seem to be any fault of the player; on the contrary, one was surprised that it came out as clearly as it did.'

The Daily Telegraph (15 October 1921) reported that ‘by way of novelty, Miss Vincent gave us a Theme and Variations in F minor by E.J. Moeran, a composer with whose name the writer is unfamiliar.’  The reviewer felt that:

‘The theme itself is quite a good one for its purpose, and the elaborations evolved from it are fanciful enough, without ever becoming ‘free’ to the point of completely disguising their origin. The work is written in a modern harmonic idiom [and] was played with plenty of skill and sympathy by Miss Vincent.’

The Theme and Variations was published by Schott and Co. in 1923.  In Volume 2 of the collected edition of Moeran’s piano music (Thames Publishing, 1998) John Talbot explains that despite the composer’s ‘often-avowed dislike’ of Robert Schumann’s music, there is a definite nod towards the German composer’s Études Symphoniques, op.13. This is more to do with mood and technique rather than duration.  Another possible work impacting on Moeran’s Theme and Variations is Gabriel Fauré’s eponymous op.73. Neither does it take much imagination to hear the influence of Moeran’s teacher John Ireland. In fact, the theme itself seems to echo the Holy Boy (1913). In the same year as the Theme and Variations were completed, Ireland composed his magisterial Piano Sonata and concluded his well-loved Three London Pieces: ‘Chelsea Reach’, ‘Ragamuffin’ and ‘Soho Forenoons’.

R.J. McNeil (1982) understands that in this work, Moeran ‘demonstrates a command of pianistic devices and effects throughout six variations and a virtuoso finale.’ McNeil does point out that ‘some might think that the finale is weakened by a predominance of technical effects which do not seem to proceed naturally from the development of the theme.’

Geoffrey Self (1986) was not impressed with Moeran’s Theme and Variations: he thinks that the theme, ‘while of haunting beauty’ offers too few opportunities for variation, which appear to him to be ‘uneven in quality.’ Again, Self considers that the finale is ‘not entirely successful.’ He does not give a reason, but it is possibly that the quality of the piano writing is sometimes less than convincing. He states that the third variation, the ‘march’ is ‘uncouth in texture’. The only positive element of the piece for Self is the 5^th variation with its alteration between ‘violent declamatory octaves’ and the quiet ‘withdrawn chordal passages’.  Here, there is a ‘glimpse of Moeran’s deeper self and…his latent power.’

Despite the misgivings of some critics both ‘then and now’, Moeran’s Theme and Variations is an appealing work that provides the listener with considerable musical interest, highlighting a wide range of emotion and textures. There is both vivacity and reflection in these pages in what is a typically Moeran-esque composition, despite a few pianistically awkward moments. For me, this is music that speaks of the Norfolk and the Irish landscape without ever descending into ‘Pastoral’ or ‘Irish’ clichés.

Bibliography

McNeill, R. J., A critical study of the life and works of E. J. Moeran. PhD thesis, Faculty of Music, The University of Melbourne (1982)

Maxwell, Ian, The Importance of Being Ernest John: Challenging the Misconceptions about the Life and Works of E. J. Moeran, Doctoral theses, Durham University, 2014

Self, Geoffrey, The Music of E.J. Moeran, Toccata Press, 1986

Ed. Talbot, John, E.J. Moeran: The Collected Solo Piano Music, Volume 2 Thames Publishing, 1998

Discography:

E.J. Moeran & Gordon Jacob Piano Music/Iris Loveridge Lyrita REAM.1103: original LP release Moeran Piano Music, RCS3 (1959/2008)

E.J. Moeran: Complete Piano Works/ Eric Parkin JMSCD 2 (1994)

E.J. Moeran: The Complete Solo Piano Music/Una Hunt ASV CD DCA 1138 (2003)

E.J. Moeran: The Complete Solo Piano Music + works by his English and Irish contemporaries/Duncan Honeybourne EM Records 0012-13 (2013)

Some thoughts on E.J. Moeran’s Theme and Variations for piano (1920) Part 1

Amongst works celebrating their centenary in 2020, Moeran’s Theme and Variations may seem like a relatively light-weight, unimportant anniversary. Yet this short piano piece marks a significant mile post in the composer’s career. Here we have a subtle fusion of Moeran’s English and Irish sensibilities as well as his growing technical command of formal and technical procedures. It is a work that is worthy of study as well as giving considerable pleasure and enjoyment.

In January 1919, Ernest John (E.J. Moeran) was demobilised from the Army. After a possible interlude as a teacher at Uppingham School and time spent in Ireland, he returned to the Royal College of Music. There he studied composition with John Ireland. The works that Moeran composed around this period included his extensive Piano Trio (1920), the song cycle Ludlow Town (1920) and his first recognised orchestral work, In the Mountain Country: [A] Symphonic Impression (1921). Geoffrey Self (1986) has written that from this point ‘the main influences to be heard in his music were now in place: his teacher, his Irish and East Anglian heritages, and his love of rural England.’

Virtually every commentator on the Theme and Variations for piano implies that the theme ‘seems instantly recognisable’ yet hard to pin down. Eric Parkin (CD Liner Notes, 1994) suggests ‘A Norfolk folksong, surely?’ Self (1986) states that the ‘theme could pass muster as one of the Norfolk folk-tunes he was shortly to collect and arrange’ and publish in 1923. The short answer is that this theme is one of Moeran’s own devising. 

Fig.1

This is the longest of Moeran’s piano works, lasting for nearly 14 minutes. The formal structure of the piece consists of the ‘Andante’ theme (Fig.1) followed by six variations and concluding with a long finale.  The ‘theme’, echoing English (possibly Norfolk) folksong, is written with a largely Dorian mode melody centred on F. This means the Db in a F melodic minor scale is typically played as D natural. This theme has a ‘diatonic, full chordal accompaniment’ emphasising the folk-like simplicity of the tune. The melody is played in octaves between left and right hands.

The first variation is marked ‘Poco piu moto’ implying a little more movement. McNeil (1982) suggests that it is a ‘moto perpetuo’ but it also features some delicate arabesques shared between hands. This leads into an ‘Allegro scherzando’ which introduces parallel fourth and fifth chords and jagged harmonies. Rapidly changing time signatures and ‘chattering semiquavers’ add to this variation’s vibrancy. The mood changes with an ‘energetic march’ which builds to a climax before dying away into the distance. This is characterised by filled octaves in the right hand supported by bare octave running quavers in the left hand. Variation 4 is much calmer and reflective: it should be played ‘Allegretto sostenuto’. Moeran has introduced a flexible metrical system that juxtaposes 9/8 and 6/8 bars. The fifth variation, a ‘Vivace’, is intricate. Partly presented as a ‘gigue’ with triplets superimposed on 4/4 time it is balanced by minim chords played with ‘una corda’ (soft pedal). 

Fig.2

The last variation (Fig.2) moves the focus of the music from Norfolk to Ireland. This is the emotional heart of the work and shows considerable depth of feeling. After a series of powerful and assertive chords this heartbreakingly beautiful music enters the finale. This complex ‘allargando ma mon troppo lento’ is a ternary (three-part) song movement with an extended coda which is truly dramatic and virtuosic in effect. It presents a thesaurus of pianistic devices with some recollection of phrases from the foregoing variations.

To be concluded

Geza Anda plays Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.21 KV. 467 (Elvira Madigan)

In 1971, I was captivated by the cover of this record. I discovered it in the music library at Coatbridge High School. As a teenager, I think that I was immediately fascinated by the beautiful lady – ‘Elvira Madigan’ - featured on the front cover as played by Pia Degermark. Furthermore, I understood that Deutsche Grammophon was probably the ‘best’ record label available. I had never heard of Geza Anda and the Salzburg Mozart Camerata Academica at that time. I am not sure that I had heard any of Mozart Piano Concertos, save perhaps by accident on Radio 3. I remember asking Mrs G’s permission before borrowing the album and heading home on the school bus. I was probably ribbed by more progressive music listeners who used to carry the latest LPs by Led Zeppelin, Yes and Genesis to and from school. Notwithstanding, I got it home and put it straight onto the Decca radiogram in my parent’s sitting room. I started at track one and played it through without a break - apart from turning the LP over. I was only half listening. At least until got to the second track on the second side.  I was stopped in my tracks by the beautiful ‘andante’. I recall thinking that I had never heard anything so lovely. Strangely, nearly 50 years later, I still hold to this view. I am not a great Mozart fan, but like the person once said, I like what I know, and know what I like. This concerto displays for me classical perfection tinged with a deep early romantic sensibility.

No need to provide a detailed note about the Piano Concerto No.21 in C major. Analyses abound. Save to say that the work’s first movement, ‘Allegro maestoso,’ is a vivacious, precursor to the introverted and perfectly balanced second movement, ‘Andante.’ The finale, an ‘Allegro vivace assai,’ is a high-spirited and irrepressible romp.

As for the 1967 film Elvira Madigan, it seems to have disappeared into oblivion. I have read the plot, but have never seen the film, and am not sure that I need to see it in full. Certainly, I have watched extracts on YouTube, and it appears to be a film of its time, slightly sub-hippy.  That said, the photography is often quite beautiful. But nowadays, mention the title and virtually ‘everyone’ associates it with Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.20. In fact, for many people the two are inseparable – Piano Concerto in C major ‘Elvira Madigan’ K.467.

The record has been remastered and re-presented on many occasions, from LP to cassette tape, CD and download. The recording issue history of this version is quite complex, with the Concerto having first been released in 1962 coupled with the Piano Concerto No.17 in G major, KV 453 on side one. I never actually bought a copy of the original vinyl album, but the picture and the music has haunted me down through the years. I know that there are some 142 recordings of this concerto in the current record catalogues with big name performers like Alfred Brendel, Martha Argerich, Earl Wild and Howard Shelley. Yet, when I want to hear this work, I always turn to Geza Anda’s recording made nearly sixty years ago. It is permanently on my now aging iPod.

Finally, the entire Piano Concerto in Geza Anda’s 1961 performance can be heard on YouTube, complete with some selected scenes from the film (Rated PG). (Accessed 11 April 2020)

Robert Farnon (1917-2005) Flying High!

For several weeks the world has been in lockdown as a result of the Coronavirus pandemic. Under this measure, unnecessary travel was banned. This clearly included short and long-haul flights as well as restrictions on visiting local beauty spots and much else besides. I noticed from my garden that vapour trails from the transatlantic flight paths tp Manchester Airport had virtually ceased. In a contrary manner, it got me thinking about holidays past and present, both to the United States and to those nearer to home such as Sunny Spain and Romantic Rome.

Although I saw Concorde on several occasions, I was never blessed with a trip: I have never flown supersonic.

Only recently I discovered that the great ‘light’ music composer Robert Farnon made a timely musical celebration of this iconic aircraft’s inaugural journey.  On 9 April 1969, Concorde flew the few short miles from Filton Aerodrome, near Bristol to RAF Fairford in Oxfordshire. British Airways had commissioned this spirited march to ‘mark the launch of Concorde, the first passenger supersonic airliner, a great feat of engineering and an emblem of the power of Anglo-French co-operation.’

The Concorde March was issued by CRD (Continental Record Distributors) on a 7-inch vinyl single and was coupled with Farnon’s equally bubbly Holiday Flight which had been reworked for the occasion. 

The Concorde March is more in the style of Farnon’s film and concert hall music than his usual ‘light’ idiom. It is bold and brash from the first to the last note. Yet, there is not such a great contrast between the main march music and the ‘trio’ as might be expected. On the other hand, it certainly deserves to have more than a single recording in the CD catalogues.

We are in more familiar Farnon style with Holiday Flight composed around 1958. This piece is full of nineteen-fifties optimism for foreign travel. The destination here is most likely to be Mallorca or the Costa Blanca rather than Rio or New York. This is cheerful music that reflects all the excitement and possibilities of post-War ‘continental’ holidays.

For interest these two pieces were recorded in West Ham Central Mission (now the Plaistow Memorial Community Church). The London Symphony Orchestra was conducted by the composer. In 2019, CRD reissued this on CD to commemorate the half-centenary of this remarkable event.

MusicWeb International has explained that these two pieces were originally re-released by Nimbus as digital only singles, but several aviation museums requested hard copy CDs for their gift shops.

Both pieces have been uploaded to YouTube: Concorde March and Holiday Flight (Accessed April 2020)