Thursday, 28 January 2010

John Foulds: Keltic Lament

John Foulds (1880-1939) has recently come to prominence with the Chandos recording of his massive A World Requiem. This work was, as the BBC website describes it, ‘a heartfelt memorial to the dead of all nations’ which was ‘once the centrepiece of the Royal British Legion's original Festivals of Remembrance.’ In the last few years there have been a number of CD releases from the City of Birmingham Orchestra and their conductor Sakari Oramo. Lyrita have also re-released their portfolio of the composer’s music.
However for the majority of listeners Foulds’s music is largely a closed book. He rarely features on Classic FM: at present there are no ‘hits’ on their ‘playlist’ webpage. Furthermore, considering the fact the composer was born in Manchester he is infrequently featured by the Hallé Orchestra in their Bridgewater Hall concerts.

Yet one work that caught the public imagination is his Keltic Lament: it is perhaps the composer’s best (only?) known piece. It has been recorded a number of times and has been published in a fair few albums of piano music. My copy is in a Hawkes & Co. volume called ‘The Pick of the Bunch –World Famous Melodies for Piano Solo’. In fact, this is where I first discovered it; the one truly well contrived work amongst a number of largely ephemeral salon pieces.

The Lament was the middle movement of Foulds’s Keltic Suite (1914), which was dedicated to his friend, the actor Lewis Casson. The other two movements of the Suite are The Clans an allegro molto brioso and The Call (allegro giocoso)
Malcolm MacDonald has written extensively about this work in his ‘John Foulds and his music: An Introduction’. He explains that the Keltic Suite Op.29 (1911) was derived from an earlier work, the Keltic Melodies for strings and harp. He notes that this was his first work to make use of a ‘generalised “Scottish” style’ with all the ‘conventional attributes of Scotch snaps, pentatonic melodies, drone basses and a mild modality.’ Other works that made use of these stylistic fingerprints included the Keltic Overture, the Five Scottish-Keltic Songs for chorus, the Suite: Gaelic Melodies and the vocal concerto Lyra Celtica.
The present work is a typically attractive piece of ‘light’ music that exploits the contemporary (1911) interest in things ‘Celtic’. Yet there is a hidden depth in this tune that belies its origin as a relatively trivial piece. Foulds ‘out-Scottishes’ a number of Scottish composers. Macdonald has suggested that the piece is not particularly interesting. However he qualifies this by suggesting it is not bad music – ‘just a pot-boiler, a musical picture post card, no less and no more’.

The Lament (Lento eroico) is based on just one tune that is first heard after a short arpeggiated introduction from the harp. This melody is given to a solo cello accompanied by the harpist. The strings repeat the tune in a fuller manner, but without losing the sustained mood. Finally, it is reprised by a solo violin before coming to a quiet close.

The Celtic Lament has been published in a number of other incarnations including for violin (or cello) and piano, for chorus and piano (or harp) and for male chorus. None of these other versions are currently available on CD.

The work featured at a number of concerts in the years after its composition, usually being played as part of the entire Suite. For example, in the December 1916 edition of the Musical Times it is noted that ‘The Birmingham Symphony Orchestra gave its first popular concert of the current series in the Town Hall on October 28, admirably conducted by Mr. Julian Clifford, of Harrogate. Among the orchestral novelties were Friedemann's sparkling Slavonic Rhapsody and Fould's Keltic Suite, comprising three sections- 'The Clans, 'Lament,' and 'The Call'- which were presented with fine precision and due observation of gradation of light and shade.’
Rob Barnett writing on MusicWeb International has suggested that this work is “sentimentally sticky.” However he notes that ‘we … know from his masterful Lyra Celtica that Foulds had a sympathetic fascination with things Scottish’. Barnett is impressed by the ‘full sumptuous Fiona MacLeod-ery linking with the big theme from McCunn’s The Land of the Mountain and the Flood and across the seas to Eire’s Danny Boy.’

An early review from February 1928 Page 25 The critic in The Gramophone notes ‘a very fine performance of the Keltic Suite by J. H. Foulds played by the Grenadier Guards Band (Columbia 9249-50), which I like almost as well as the orchestral setting. There are three numbers in this suite and in the Lament the band is joined by the Pipers of H.M. Scots Guards with a sadly beautiful effect. These records give me an opportunity of drawing attention to a serious omission in the new edition of Grove. The name of J. H. Foulds is not mentioned. Probably the "Addendum” which one may expect in the last volume will remedy this defect.’
The work has received a number of recordings including Reginald Jaques and his Orchestra (coupled with the Vaughan Williams Fantasia on Greensleeves (Columbia DX 925 1939) Ronald Corp conducting the New London Symphony Orchestra (Hyperion CDA67400 2002) and the City of Birmingham Orchestra with Sakari Oramo (Warner Classics 62999 2006)

The Keltic Lament was not ‘written down’ to the audience. The composer has not sacrificed his art for the sake of producing a pot-boiler. This is a good honest work that is both enjoyable and moving. Lastly, it is a pity that no CD company has undertaken to record the entire Keltic Suite.

Tuesday, 26 January 2010

Phillip Lord: Nautical Overture

There have been many nautical pieces in the annals of musical history. Perhaps the one that spring to mind is the great, patriotic effort by Sir Alexander Mackenzie, the Britannia Overture which features the tub thumping Rule Britannia!
Philip Scowcroft mentions many more: these include John Ansell’s Windjammer Overture, Frederic Austin’s The Sea Venturers and Dame Ethel Smyth’s The Wreckers. It is perhaps a genre that British composers warm to coming from an island race.

Phillip Lord’s Nautical Overture was composed in 1965, some four years before his early death from a heart attack.
A brief note on the composer: he was born in Waterfoot in the Rossendale Valley in Lancashire and studied music at Manchester University and the Royal Manchester College of Music. In 1952 he gained a scholarship to Cambridge. This was followed by National Service, work in a London publishing house. After a spell in a teaching post at Aberdeen University he returned to the other side of the Pennines to Sheffield.

Philip Lane in his programme notes for the Dutton Epoch recording of this work suggests that the Overture may have been only one of a projected sequence of pieces based on The Sea. However, this is the only one to have survived. The piece was given a broadcast in the 1960’s by the BBC Concert Orchestra under the baton of Vilem Tausky. The score disappeared only to resurface many years later in the Light Music Society Library.
However there are other a few other pieces with a marine flavour in Lord’s catalogue that have survived – these include A Northumbrian Sea-song Suite (1966), a large scale choral work High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire, an opera The Marsh Raiders and a set of Variations on a Sea Shanty for piano and orchestra.

Although I like this piece very much, I am not quite convinced just how much of a ‘nautical’ air this overture actually has. Martin Thacker in Manchester Sounds (Volume 7, 2007-8 p204) alludes to this in his review by suggesting that the second subject 'perhaps depicts a sailors’ dance, but there seems to be an ineradicable clip-clop about it –you think more of a buggy on the mains street in small-town America.'
Certainly if one is looking for sailors’ hornpipes, sea shanties or a Flying Dutchman type of seascapes in music this is not the piece for you! However I could imagine the work being used as a film score for a romp such as Carry On Cruising or Carry On Up the Creek. The music is great: it just does not quite ‘depict a choppy sea like the one in Bax’s Symphony No. 4!'
Rob Barnett at MusicWeb International considers this work to be “a rattlingly rousing overture in the British concert overture tradition.” It is an opinion with which I wholeheartedly agree. It is time that Phillip Lord’s music was made available to a wider audience.

Finally, in case any reader thinks that I have misspelt the composer’s Christian name I have not - the non-biblical spelling owes it to the composer’s mother whose maiden name was Phillips!

The Nautical Overture can be heard on Dutton Epoch CDLX 7190 The Royal Ballet Sinfonia is conducted by Paul Murphy.

Sunday, 24 January 2010

Thomas Dunhill:Valse Fantasia for flute and piano

Thomas Dunhill was a composer who seemed to have his career divided into two distinct parts by critics. There was the ‘light’ music exemplified by the operetta Tantivy Towers, which is really a German or Sullivan-esque confection and the ballet score Dick Whittington. On the other hand he was the serious composer who wrote, amongst other things, a great Symphony (long underrated) and a fine Piano Quintet. His song 'The Cloths of Heaven' is near perfect. Thomas Dunhill is a composer who desperately needs to be rediscovered- especially his chamber and orchestral scores.
However the present Valse Fantasia belongs to his ‘light’ music credentials and is none the worse for that. The programme notes point out that the exact date of this work is unknown and could have been composed any time between 1900 and the end of the Great War. This is a lovely, extrovert piece that surely challenges the flautist in every direction. It is a summery work that is a product of Dunhill’s desire “that music should be easily accessible to the listener without the composer having to compromise his desire for personal expression or feeling obliged to follow the vagaries of some current musical fashion.”
This work is not ground breaking or even important in Dunhill’s catalogue. But it is thoroughly enjoyable. What more can a listener ask for?
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This piece can be heard on ”By the River in Spring” Divine Art (dda25069) with Kenneth Smith (flute) and Paul Rhodes (piano)

Friday, 22 January 2010

Thomas Pitfield: Cheshire Verses – both grave and gay

Thomas Baron Pitfield (1903-1999) is usually regarded as a composer. However the truth is more complex. Pitfield was a polymath and excelled in a number of areas. He was a teacher, a visual artist and a craftsman: it is not every composer who has designed the covers of their musical scores. But it is as a writer and a poet that I am concerned with in this review. There are a number of books to Pitfield's credit, including three remarkable volumes of autobiography – No Song, No Supper, A Song after Supper and A Cotton Town Boyhood. The ‘works list’ in the Manchester Sounds (Volume 4 2003-4) journal lists some twenty publications that Pitfield has written, contributed to or provided the illustrations for. Among the privately printed books is the present volume of poetry Cheshire Verses- Sad and Gay.
This is not cutting edge poetry, nor is it an attempt at shriving the soul or some kind of confessional exercise. Neither does it have the gritty edge of a Ted Hughes. It is what the title suggests – a book(let) of verses. Pitfield sums up the intention of the book on the title page – he writes:-

Herewith some verses, varying
Between the solemn and the frivolous;
Some may be marginally worthy,
And others manifestly drivolous.


The complete production is the work of Pitfield, including the cover design, the illustration and the text fonts. The book itself is undated, but I guess that it was written before the Local Government Act 1972, which removed Manchester and Liverpool from Lancashire and the Wirral from Cheshire.
The booklet has twenty-two pages with each page having one of two short verses. Each poem has the title of a town, village or building in Cheshire – such as ‘Crewe’, ‘Bowdon’ and ‘Beeston Castle’.
The mood ranges from a profound poem such as ‘Chester’ with its ‘The precincts of Tomorrow/Trespass on numberless Yesterdays’- through to the limerick ‘A tentative lady of Altringham/Said, ‘I never make plans without altering ‘em’. In between there is doggerel such as that referring to ‘The Wirral’: -

The Wirral juts into the sea
Between the Mersey and the Dee;
Its population insular-
Though it’s not an island but a peninsula.


Perhaps the finest poem in the collection is ‘Dunham Park (Winter Evening)’. It is a meditation on a walk through one of Cheshire’s great treasures. Every line of this poem is evocative; virtually every word contributes to the poet’s mood. Consider ‘Beech boughs are etched on the grey waste of sky’ or perhaps the ‘the half-bared white rind of the citreous moon.’ But the greatest allusion is to the winter’s night desolation of the park, which in fact is close to the conurbation of Greater Manchester and the M56 – ‘…the close-cropped grass/ close-cropped by deer, the sole inhabitants/of parkland nave, a voiceless congregation.’

Thomas Pitfield has set at least one of his own poems to music. In 1981 Forsyth’s, the Manchester music-publishing house, issued a song setting of ‘Dunham Park (Winter Evening)’. I would be interested to know if there are others. The Mancunian composer Stuart Scott has set two of the Cheshire Verses – ‘Gawsworth’ and ‘Alderley’. They have been released on a song collection CD, A Wagon of Life. One further spin off is A Dunham Pastorale for recorder and piano by David Beck. I have recently written about this work.

This is an attractive book of verse that will appeal to anyone who has even a passing knowledge of Cheshire. For those readers of poetry who love topographical writing rather than soul-searching personal catharsis, this is an ideal booklet. It will be on my poetry shelves within reach at all times.

With thanks to John Turner and John McCabe, trustees of the Thomas Pitfield Trust for permission to quote the above verses and pencil sketch.

Wednesday, 20 January 2010

Martin Shaw: On Song Writing

Martin Edward Fallas Shaw is a name that has been largely sideline in British Music, yet he was prolific as a composer, a performer and an author. Shaw was born in London, studied at the Royal College of Music ad was subsequently organist at St Martin-in-the-Fields. One of his main concerns was to campaign for a better quality of liturgical music. His main contribution to composition was many dozens of songs. Unfortunately few are heard today. Martin Shaw died in the Suffolk market town of Southwold in 1958. His reappraisal is long overdue.
On 7th July 1923 he gave an ‘illustrated lecture' at the Society of Women Musicians headquarter. Marion Scott was there and filed her report to the Christian Science Monitor for which she was ‘special correspondent.’


London, July 10
On July 7 Martin Shaw, a composer whose fine songs have identified him specially with this branch of art, was guest speaker at the composer’s conference, held by the Society of Women Musicians at their London headquarters, 74 Grosvenor Street.
Mr Shaw said there were three or four great problems confronting song-writers, namely a) finding good words to set, b) finding a publisher, c) finding a singer, d) finding an accompanist. It almost seemed at times as if all the good words had been set. Very poetic words, where the poet had already used all the artifices of verbal melody, were not the best to select. Swinburne’s poems, for instance, did not need setting. He ventured to think that poets today are not nearly so much ‘ballad mongers’ as they might be- their poems are too artificial. Why should not their poems tell stories sometimes? Shakespeare was the most settable of poets; he was also in direct relation to all kinds of life. Also, he did not sing himself, but implied music in his words.

Having selected suitable words, the next problem was to find what time they should be put into – simple or compound, duple, triple, quadruple etc. The verbal accentuation of words is a matter in which composers frequently go wrong; and Mr. Shaw urged a study of plain-song as the best way of overcoming the difficulty.
Another lesson to be learned from plain-song, he said, is that one does not want a fresh chord in the accompaniment for every note in the melody – the chords change only when the accent of the words requires it. In most songs there are too many notes.
Economy of accompaniment was a thing to consider carefully. His own view was that it is better to put too little that too much. He advocated keeping the melodic outline broad and unbroken. Instead of taking a verse of poetry and breaking it up into chunks. Song composers ought to have a steady flight.
A number of illustrations sung by Geoffrey Shaw, enhanced the value of the lecture.

Marion M. Scott July 23 1923 Christian Science Monitor (minor edits)
With thanks to Pamela Blevins

Monday, 18 January 2010

David Beck: A Dunham Pastorale for recorder & piano


I recently reviewed Thomas Pitfield’s book of poetry Cheshire Verses and was suitably impressed by these attractive and often amusing verses. Thomas Pitfield is best known as a composer, but in fact he was much more. He was a teacher, a craftsman, an artist, a poet and an author. He wrote a number of books, including three volumes of autobiography and provided the illustrations for many others.
The poem, from his collection that impressed me most was ‘Dunham Park (Winter Evening)’. This is meditation on an evening walk through one of Cheshire’s great treasures. I wrote in my review that ‘every line of this poem is evocative; virtually every word contributes to the poet’s mood.’ I considered that the best descriptive metaphor was for the winter’s night desolation of the park, which in fact is close to the conurbation of Greater Manchester and the M56 – ‘…the close-cropped grass/ close-cropped by deer, the sole inhabitants/of parkland nave, a voiceless congregation.’ It is this desolation and the frost bound night that informs David Beck’s A Dunham Pastorale.

Dunham Park (Winter Evening)
Beech boughs are etched on the grey waste of sky
As on a wide-arched canopy of glass;
Below, the snow, & stained leaves counterpane
(White, brown & green mosaic) the close-cropped grass…

Close-cropped by deer, the sole inhabitants
Of parkland nave, a voiceless congregation,
And vesper-shadowy. Now veteran-ripe
The time, the winter day’s transfiguration.

The sun lies low on saffron-bordered pillow,
And in a cloud-gap, with scarce-visible ray,
The half-bared white rind of the citreous moon
Signals a closing door upon the day.

The genesis of A Dunham Pastorale was back in 2005. The composer told me that he was asked to contribute a piece for the Flying Kites CD (Cameo 2044). This was to be subtitled A Trafford Miscellany and was to showcase a number of Manchester-based composers. After some consideration he struck on the idea of writing a meditation or a reflection on Thomas Pitfield’s poem.
The form of Beck’s piece is largely derived from the text of the poem, except that he repeats the mood of the last stanza. He told me that the constructional principle of this piece was based on a 12-note tone row. However, he assured me that it was not his intention to make the piece sound like Schoenberg or the Second Viennese School! Beck reflected that at Dunham Park there is a fine view of the house from across the lake. It was this scene along with the poet’s image of the ‘The half-bared white rind of the citreous moon’ that inspired the section beginning with the piano arpeggios.

A Dunham Pastorale opens with a short piano introduction played, if not signed, ‘misterioso’ This is icy music, creating a frost-bound sound-world. The style of playing is brittle, mirroring the “grey waste of sky.” However, the music begins to expand in it mood, though there is still the feel of a frosty path underfoot. The second stanza is represented by music that is much more lyrical and gradually becoming quite intense. Yet once again there is a change of mood. The pianist plays some gorgeous arpeggios and the recorder’s part begins to thaw a little. This section is less dissonant and less obviously dependent on the ‘tone row.’ Yet the mood is still tantalising, the final trills leave the listener still in a frozen landscape. The overall mood of A Dunham Pastorale is tentative: it is heading towards a kind of resolution when it is stopped in its tracks by the ‘closing door upon the day’.

It is an interesting precedent that on the recording of this work, the poem is read before the piece is performed. It is a splendid way of giving context to the music. It is something that could be used in a variety of musical situation. Jonathan Woolf has written a review for MusicWeb International where he describes the A Dunham Pastorale ‘as Francophile in orientation whilst the recorder spins an aloofly beautiful line’.

Finally, this work would sound impressive played on flute or perhaps even the oboe. Perhaps the former would point up the little warmth that is found in this score, whilst the latter would emphasise the chill. If I ever get to see the score I would like to write a slightly more detailed study of this piece.

With thanks to John Turner and John McCabe, trustees of the Thomas Pitfield Trust for permission to quote the above verses and pencil sketch.

Thursday, 14 January 2010

John Ireland: Centenary Works from 1910

Unfortunately there are no great or memorable works from the pen of John Ireland that demand to have their centennial celebrated. In fact, only three pieces are mentioned in Stewart R. Craggs’s Catalogue (2nd Edition 2007). This seemed to form a trend with the composer. In 1909 he had written the fine 1st Violin Sonata, however it was to be some three or four years before he penned his superb Decorations for piano and the popular choral work ‘Greater Love hath no Man’. The intervening period was largely filled with minor works, although the two accomplished songs 'Hope the Horn Blower' and 'When Lights go Rolling Round the Sky' were composed at this time. Organists are grateful for the Sursum Corda. the Capriccio and the Alla Marcia all of which date from 1911.
The first two of the three works written in 1910 are 'Laughing Song' and 'Cupid', both songs for unaccompanied mixed voices (SATB) and are both settings of words by William Blake. The first part-song remains in manuscript and the second was published by Augener & Co. in 1961, the year before the composer’s death. Neither piece (to my knowledge) has been recorded and are rarely, if ever, performed.

However the third piece from this year was the recitation Annabel Lee. I admit straight away that I think this is a dreadful work, and one that I cannot readily accept as a worthy part of the Ireland canon. Yet academic opinion is largely against me.
Annabel Lee was billed a ‘melodrama’ for speaker with piano and was a setting of a text by the American author Edgar Allan Poe. The poem was originally published in the New York Tribune on 9 October 1849 which was the day of the writer’s death.

A ‘melodrama’ is music designed as an instrumental accompaniment to a spoken or recited text. The Harvard Musical Dictionary notes that melodramatic [works] have “scarcely met with lasting success, on account of the acoustic incongruity of the spoken word and of music.” In musical history melodrama has been effectively used on occasion. Perhaps one recalls the grave-digging scene in Fidelio or the incantation scene in Weber’s Der Freischutz. Even Mozart succumbed to melodrama and introduced two long monologues into Zaide. In the early part of the nineteenth century ballads and poems were frequently recited to a piano accompaniment. The genre survived into the twentieth century with works such as Richard Strauss’s Enoch Arden and Arthur Honegger's Jeanne d'Arc au bûcher. In Britain the two most famous examples of melodrama are Sir Arthur Bliss’s Morning Heroes and Ralph Vaughan Williams’s An Oxford Elegy.
These latter are complex works written for reciter with chorus and orchestra. However John Ireland’s piece is more akin to the nineteenth century ballads. It is maudlin, overblown and typically ‘Victorian’ in its sentiment and can hardly appeal to today’s listener as a convincing work of art. The poem explores the death of a beautiful woman. The narrator fell in love with her as youth and has had to contend with the jealously of the angels. His love for her survives her death. Although scholars are of divided opinion, the inspiration for the poem may have been the poet’s wife. The text of 'Annabel Lee' can be read at Wikisource #
Jennifer Willhite writes on Suite 101.com (accessed 1/01/10) that “in modern day thought, such an obsession that results in the speaker going to the grave to lay by her side could be viewed as a form of necrophilism, or morbidity.” Yet she suggests that “in the traditional vein of gothic/romantic fiction, or poetry, such behavior is considered to be a sign of ardor to one's true love.” It is this disconnection between the nineteenth and twentieth century aesthetic that make this melodrama by Ireland so difficult to appreciate in 2010.

However it is Fiona Richards in her The Music of John Ireland (2000) who puts this work into context: she extracts the significance of Annabel Lee in the canon of Ireland’s music.
She notes that in this melodrama which is descriptive of events in the ‘kingdom of the sea’ is ‘recited over a repeating motif which has shared connotations with several other sea pieces [by Ireland] including the opening of The Island Spell’. This work was the first of the Decorations and came at the end of a relatively barren period in Ireland’s career. Furthermore Richards suggests that there are also harmonic allusions to the composers early Sea Idyll and Meridian. It is certainly true that the piano accompaniment is superior in design and effect than the end product of the work. For this reason alone it is worth listening to.

John Ireland’s Annabel Lee can be heard on Cameo 2044 with Richard Baker as reciter and Keith Swallow, pianist.

Tuesday, 12 January 2010

Edward Elgar: The Crown of India on Chandos


I recently had the pleasure of reviewing this new release from Chandos. I must confess that I found it a difficult piece to come to terms with. In fact I concluded my review by suggesting that although “I have not really made my mind up about this piece yet, this CD is a must for all Elgar cognoscenti even if they are, like me, not over-enthusiastic about the main event...”

I enjoyed some of the music from The Crown of India. I certainly enjoyed the fine performances by Sir Andrew Davis, the soloists and speakers and the BBC Philharmonic. I appreciate the amount of work that Anthony Payne has invested in this project to realise the score. But was it worth it? I will probably not listen to this work again but I will occasionally play The Crown of India Suite. However, it is important to know that a version of this legendary work is available for pleasure, analysis and study. The amount of effort that has been required to realise this masque may seem to some a little excessive and perhaps misdirected.

Please read my full review at MusicWeb International

Sunday, 10 January 2010

Ronald Binge: Miss Melanie

This year is the centenary of the birth of Ronald Binge. I am not sure that it will be marked by any special events either in the concert hall or with CD releases. Hopefully something will appear. Most commentators will concentrate on his three greatest hits - The Watermill, which was used in the BBC series The Secret Garden, Sailing By which was the close-down music for the BBC Home Service and finally his Elizabethan Serenade which was used for the same station’s shipping forecasts.

However I want to recall the delicate charms of Miss Melanie. This short piece was composed in 1956. Ernest Tomlinson in his sleeve notes for the Marco Polo retrospective of Binge’s music suggests that the lady in question is simply a figure of the composer’s imagination, yet with North Country wit he suggests that she must have been fun-loving lass. Moreover, he points out that her naughtiest trick is “to require the first fiddles to play the first four notes in a special way.” The first is note is bowed and the succeeding notes are played pizzicato. Certainly not a figure for the fainthearted or technically challenged!
Apart from this technical device there is little that is complex bout this work: its 2 ½ minutes being filled with a charming portrait of the girl’s activities
Miss Melanie is an excellent example of a piece of light music that is both entertaining and descriptive. Over and above this it is well constructed, and although formally simple, is satisfying.
The lady in question is probably quite young and her mischief is probably not too serious: perhaps being a little too coy, or is she being flirtations? And most certainly this is a picture of springtime in a tranquil village garden in deepest Sussex...

Miss Melanie is available on a number of recordings including the Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ernest Tomlinson Marco Polo 8223515 and British Light Music classics Volume 3 New London Orchestra conducted by Ronald Corp Hyperion CDA67148

Friday, 8 January 2010

Arnold Cooke: String Sonatas on the British Music society Label

A study of the CD catalogues shows that there is precious little of Arnold Cooke’s music currently accessible. Through the good offices of Lyrita, it is possible to hear the First and the Third Symphonies, the Concerto for String Orchestra and the Jabez and the Devil Suite. Hyperion has ensured that the clarinet works are well represented, with the Concerto No. 1, the Quintet and the Sonata still available. Over and above these, there are a few songs and that is about it. So it is good that the British Music Society have re-released this fine CD of three important chamber works. The CD was originally published as a part of the Cooke Centenary celebrations. 
Rob Barnett in his review at the time of the original release has suggested that “Arnold Cooke is of the unfashionable Cheltenham generation of composers active … during the period 1945-75”. He further notes that “their time may not yet have come…” Eric Wetherell in the only study of the composer available has suggested that the standard view of Cooke is that “as a disciple of Hindemith, he must be rather less worthy of attention than his teacher.” That would be like saying Beethoven was less valuable that Johann Georg Albrechtsberger. However Wetherell concludes his point by insisting that “a careful and sustained examination of Cooke’s work reveals that the similarities are superficial and that his (Cooke’s) individual characteristics far outweigh his indebtedness to his master.” Certainly studying critical comment reveals a certain imbalance of views on the influence of Hindemith that will only be fully resolved when the vast majority of Cooke’s music is available to the listener. 
The three works presented on this CD are selected from some ten Sonatas that Cooke wrote over a period 45 years. This is essential listening for all enthusiasts of British music but more importantly these are three sonatas that stand up well in their own right as a vital contribution to the corpus of European chamber music. It is a tired argument to suggest that because Cooke is deemed to belong to the Cheltenham generation of composers, these works should be ignored.
Please read the full review at MusicWeb International

Track Listings:

Violin Sonata No. 2 (1951) 
Viola Sonata (1937) 
Cello Sonata No. 2 (1980) 
Susanne Stanzeleit (violin); Morgan Goff (viola); Raphael Wallfisch (cello); Raphael Terroni (piano)
BRITISH MUSIC SOCIETY BMS432CD 

Wednesday, 6 January 2010

William Blezard: The River

The River (1969) is perhaps Blezard’s best known work – if it is possible to say that any of his pieces have really captured the musical public’s imagination. When I first heard this work I had not read the programme notes. I immediately felt that this was a perfect musical portrait of an English River. Of course I was wrong. It was actually composed after Blezard had returned from a tour of Australia in 1969. A certain programme has gathered round this work, which I feel is unnecessary. Apparently it is said to depict two lovers meeting by the riverside and going for a gentle stroll. Obviously the passion builds up a bit and the music swells, only to subside into a pleasant cup of tea and a scone at a riverside tearoom. I am afraid all this leaves me very cold. I accept that it is a romantic piece: I agree that the composer may have had a river in mind – be it in England or Australia. I will even concede he may have been in love. But the bottom line is that a programme like this spoils what is a very beautiful and quite moving piece.
This work is in the classic ‘Delian’ arch shape – beginning quietly, rising to a climax and then subsiding. I was reminded of Constant Lambert’s famous injunction about the only thing you can do with a folk tune is to play it again - louder. Blezard by and large uses just one tune – however it is not really a folksong. The subtlety with which he manipulates this basic material is perfectly satisfying. The orchestration of this work is excellent with exquisite moments for the harp and French horn. Most of the melody is carried on strings which gives this work its romantic feel.
All in all, I was reminded of Smetana’s Moldau as I was listening to this work: not in detail but just in the effectiveness of portraying running water in purely musical terms.
With thanks to MusicWeb International

Saturday, 2 January 2010

William Alwyn: Rarely Heard Piano Music

I came across this lovely YouTube presentation of a selection of William Alwyn’s piano music. It includes some rarely heard pieces from the recent Naxos releases by Ashley Wass. Volume 1 8.570359 and Volume 2 8.570464
Prelude and Fugue formed on an Indian Scale
She Dreams of Returning from Contes Barbares
Water Lillies from Five by Ten
Cinderella from Five by Ten
The end of the Second World War did not see a huge rise in Alwyn’s musical output: there is only what Adrian Wright terms minor pieces. These include The Cherry Tree for voice and harp, a suite of Scottish Dances and Three Songs for High voice which were settings of poems by Louis MacNiece. It was not until 1946 that major work was to appear -the Sonata alla Toccata for piano.

However amongst these shorter works was the Prelude and Fugue formed on an Indian Scale was had been completed in March 1945. This made use of a synthetic scale devised by omitting the fourth and seventh notes ascending from the scale of G major. The Prelude is a truly beautiful offering, where the melody is accompanied by misty left hand chords. The melody is repeated and varied a number of times, without ever loosing its tranquility and downright beauty. The last section of the Prelude is a little more reflective. The Fugue is much livelier and if anything a little hard edged. From the first to the very last bar this piece of contrapuntal writing has a sense of fun and of sheer pleasure. There is no doubt that the composer was delighted that the War was nearly over!


Contes Barbares – Barbaric Tales (Homage to Paul Gauguin) does not even get a mention in Adrian Wright’s essential biography of the composer. The work was written over a three year period between 1930 and 1933. It was finally completed after Alwyn had returned from a voyage in the South Pacific. Andrew Knowles in the CD sleeve notes suggest that the “idea for this cycle of pieces must have germinated in Alwyn’s mind after he had seen Gauguin’s picture Manao Tupapau (She is Haunted by a Spirit or She Dreams of Returning), which depicts a girl lying in the dark in a melancholy atmosphere, terrified by the spirit of the dead, at the Leicester Galleries in 1928/9.” It was a painting that was to haunt the composer’s imagination for the rest of his life.

The piece chosen for the video is She Dreams of Returning which is another sustained piece of writing that vacillates between a dream like state and something just that little bit sinister.
There are seven pieces in Contes Barbares - Auti te pape – Woman at the River, Le Vivo (Danse Tahitienne), Manao Tupapau – She Dreams of Returning, Dance Fragment, Nevermore, Te Atua – The Gods and Mahna No Varua Ino – The Devil Speaks.
Clifford Curzon premièred the entire series at a concert of Alwyn works on 3 March 1940.

Cinderella and Water Lilies were two of nine pieces that Alwyn composed in 1952 especially for the collection of graded recreational piano pieces published by Alfred Lengnick under the title of Five by Ten. This series of five albums under the editorship of Alec Rowley featured piano music ranging from the very easy through to moderate and difficult by Lengnick’s house-composers of the time, which in addition to Alwyn included Edmund Rubbra, Elizabeth Maconchy, William Wordsworth, Malcolm Arnold, Franz Reizenstein, Bernard Stevens, Madeline Dring and others. Cinderella, a graceful waltz in E major, appears in volume five of the series, and Water Lilies, a dreamy nocturne in B major, in volume four.

Water Lilies is actually quite a complex piece for educational purposes. It has echoes of a seemingly endless list of precursors. In many ways it is quite a varied little piece with a number of ideas and themes. The composer indicates that both pedals ought to be depressed. This leads to a blurred, impressionistic effect with the left-hand third chords with added notes. The melody is constantly varied, with echoes back to the opening four bars.
Cinderella is a recital piece. This is the last work in the five volumes of Five by Ten and is almost certainly the most difficult to play and to interpret. It is also one of the longest. The form of the piece is interesting. On first play through the impression is given of constant change of melody and accompaniment with no obvious unifying material. It is composed as a waltz and is written in 6/8 time. It is only after study that one realises the piece is actually very cleverly constructed. It is as if the music is reminiscence by Cinderella after she has returned from the ball. There is constant change of tempos, figuration and even tune. Nothing ever seems to be tied done – it is a work of fleeting images. Yet there are snatches of theme that are presented and re-presented which lead to a sense of unity. A truly lovely miniature and well worth learning.

The paintings used to ‘accompany; the video are excellent -they are well chosen and include, in order


Paul Signac, The Large Pine

Alfred Stevens, The Lady with the FanHenri-Edmond Cross, Paysage de Bormes
Edgar Degas, Fin d'arabesque

Listen to these four works on YouTube

Friday, 1 January 2010

A Happy New Year to All Readers
of
British Classical Music: The Land of Lost Content British Music 'Blog'


2010 is the anniversaries of the following composers:-

1810 (Bi-Centneary)
John Hiles (1810-1882)
Samuel Sebastian Wesley (1810 -1876)

1860 (150th Anniversary)
John Carlowitz Ames (1860-1924)
William Wallace (1860 -1940)
James Cliffe Forester (1860-1941)
Marie Wurm (1860-1938)

1910 (Centenary)
Ronald Binge (1910-1979)
Wynne Hunt (1910 -?)
W.L Reed (1910- 2002)
Robert Still (1910-1971)

1960 (Half Century)
George Benjamin (1960- )
Mark-Anthony Turnage (1960- )

In 1910 (Centenary) the following works were composed (largely composed) or received their first performances:-
Arnold BAX:- Violin Sonata No 1 (1910-15)
Samuel COLERIDGE-TAYLOR:- Endymion’s Dream, for chorus
Edward ELGAR:- Romance, for bassoon and orchestra
Hamilton HARTY:- With the Wild Geese, tone poem
Gustav HOLST:- Beni Mora, oriental suite for orchestra; The Cloud Messenger, ode Choral Hymns for the Rig-Veda, Group 3
Roger QUILTER:- Three English Dances; Four Songs Ralph
VAUGHAN WILLIAMS:- Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, for strings

In 1960 (50th Anniversary) the following were composed (largely composed) or received their first performances:-
Malcolm ARNOLD:- Symphony No 4; Song of Simeon, nativity play,
Richard Rodney BENNETT:-Journal, for orchestra; Calendar, for chamber ensemble;
Lennox BERKELEY:-A Winter's Tale, suite for orchestra; Prelude and Fugue for clavichord; Improvisation on a Theme of Falla, for piano; Missa brevis, for mixed choir and organ; 'Thou hast made me', for mixed choir and organ
Arthur BLISS:-Tobias and the Angel, opera
Havergal BRIAN:-Symphonies Nos 14, 15, 16 and 17
Benjamin BRITTEN:-A Midsummer Night's Dream, opera
Alan BUSH:- 'On Lawn and Green' Suite for harpsichord or piano
Geoffrey BUSH:- Dialogue, for oboe and piano
Peter Maxwell DAVIES:-O Magnum Mysterium, for chorus, instruments and organ;
Benjamin FRANKEL:-Messa Stromentale, orchestral mass without words
Peter Racine FRICKER:-Symphony No 3
Roberto GERHARD:-Symphony No 3, Collages, for tape and orchestra;
Alun HODDINOTT:-Concerto No 1 for piano, wind and percussion;
Herbert HOWELLS:-Triptych, for brass band
Daniel JONES:-O Lord, have Thou Respect, anthem for chorus
Wilfred JOSEPHS:-Concerto da camera for violin, harpsichord and strings
John JOUBERT:-Pro Pace, three unaccompanied choral motets
Kenneth LEIGHTON: -Piano Concerto No 2
Elisabeth LUTYENS:-Wind Quintet
John McCABE:- Partita for string quartet
Elizabeth MACONCHY:-The Departure, one-act opera
Nicholas MAW:-Five Epigrams, for unaccompanied chorus
Wilfred MELLERS:-Eclogue, for recorder, harpsichord, percussion, violin and cello
Thea MUSGRAVE:-Trio for flute, oboe and piano; Colloquy, for violin and piano;
Priaulx RAINIER:-Pastoral Tryptych, for solo oboe; Phala-Phala, dance concerto for orchestra
Matyas SEIBER:-Invitation, ballet; A Three-cornered Fanfare; Croydon Suite’ (1960) [Three Besardo pieces]; Violin Sonata; ‘John Gilpin’s Ride’
William WALTON:- Symphony No 2; Anon in Love, six songs for tenor and guitar

With thanks to ‘THE DICTIONARY OF COMPOSERS AND THEIR MUSIC A LISTENER'S COMPANION’ by ERIC GILDER on MusicWeb International

Thursday, 24 December 2009

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor: Christmas Overture

I recently heard Samuel Coleridge-Taylor’s Christmas Overture, and was impressed. OK, I do not rate it at the same level as his glorious Violin Concerto, his excellent Symphony in A minor or even his best-known work the oratorio trilogy Hiawatha.
History does not seem to relate if the Overture was actually ‘conceived’ by Coleridge Taylor. However, it was definitely orchestrated by a ‘popular’ composer called Sydney Baynes, who is best remembered for his Destiny Waltz. As I understand it, Coleridge-Taylor’s music was originally conceived as incidental music for a ‘charming poetical fairy drama’ by Alfred Noyes -The Forest of Wild Thyme. Sir Beerbohm Tree had commissioned the music. Unfortunately the play was abandoned, apparently owing to a great similarity between it and Maeterlinck’s Blue Bird. Some of the enormous amount of music which Coleridge Taylor had written was reused in other works but the majority remained in manuscript. Realised works included the Three Dream Dances for piano, Scenes from an Imaginary Ballet Op.74 and finally an Intermezzo for orchestra.

It would be easy to write this Overture off as a ‘pot-pourri’ of Christmas tunes but even a cursory hearing shows a work that is well wrought and having a sense of purpose and consistency. In site of the occasional nod to Sir Arthur Sullivan and possibly Sir Edward German, this work has a deal of original material and is not all related to Christmas carols. However, look out for a good workout of Good King Wenceslas, Hark the Herald Angels and God rest you, merry gentlemen.

Alas, the reviewer in The Musical Times Jan 1 1927 suggests that the overture, “...may please uncritical family circles at this season of the year, but it is a very weak piece of work…”
But perhaps slightly less damning is the critic in The Gramophone. He writes that Coleridge-Taylor's “Christmas is a right merry one, with Good King W., Hark the Herald, the bells, and country dancing. I see that he is said to have used in this and other pieces some of the music he wrote for Noyes' play, The Forest of Wild Thyme, intended for production in 1910, and not performed. There is not much in the overture save a gathering of tunes and a sparkle of Christmas-tree spangles, but it would go down well after dinner”. [Gramophone December 1932 p22 f]
However, I feel that this is largely negative posturing. The music is good well written music and the orchestration is full of seasonal colouring and certainly fulfils its festive expectations.

Listen to this work on The Night Before Christmas Naxos 8.570331

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

John Ireland: Piano Trios on Naxos

John Ireland’s Piano Trios are a critical part of his repertoire. Certainly they form an ideal way to explore his chamber music. And for once, I would suggest that the listener approaches these three works in the order they written.
The Phantasie Trio in A minor was one of many works composed for the illustrious Cobbett Music Competitions announced in 1907. The twenty-eight year old composer submitted this present piece alongside some 37 other entrants. It is probably reasonably well-known that the winner of that competition was Frank Bridge. However, Ireland scored a joint second with the now largely forgotten James Friskin. The winning pieces were performed at the Aeolian Hall on January 1909.
The Musical Times reports that this work was characterised by “extreme brilliancy and strenuousness and is rich in musicianship”. It is a sentiment with which even a cursory hearing will reveal. The same review notes that Ireland was called to the platform twice –and considering that Brahms Trio in B was also performed the writer felt that it was a “triumph for British chamber music”. Structurally, the work mirrors sonata form, but is written in one continuous movement with the four parts reflecting the exposition, the development, the recapitulation and a coda.
The great critic Edwin Evans felt that the Phantasie Trio marked the end of Ireland’s early compositional period and the starting point of a new direction. He conceded that there was a lot of characteristic ‘Ireland’ writing here. He noted that the mood of the work is “classical throughout, and [that] unity is secured not so much by derivation of the thematic material...as an affinity of themes which maintain their independence”. He concludes by suggesting that the “use of themes which are homogonous without being positively related often produces a better result, and the cohesion of this attractive trio is not the least of its many qualities.”
This Trio is a work that certainly deserved its prize and makes, in spite of Evans’s prose, an approachable introduction to John Ireland’s chamber music.
The Piano Trio No.2 is in complete contrast to the Phantasie. For one thing this work was composed in 1917, a time when the full horrors of the Great War were manifest. Both this work and the slightly earlier Second Violin Sonata are usually regarded as expressing the composer’s feelings about the tragedy and the loss of the Great War. Yet although the composer allegedly told the cellist Florence Hooton that the ‘allegro guisto’ section “evoked the boys going over the top’ this is not a ‘Battle of the Trafalgar’ type of musical confection. It is perhaps more to do with Ireland trying to cling to “the beauty that remained on the earth amidst the carnage and inhumanity of the battle.” In spite of alleged warlike allusions there is much in this Trio that has a ‘haunting beauty’ and interestingly the work concludes on an optimistic note bearing in mind the date of its composition.
The sleeve notes quote Fiona Richards in her book The Music of John Ireland (Ashgate 2000) “This is a work of mixed emotions, contrasting passages of stark textures and caustic harmonies with effusive moments and grim marches. The structure of the work is a succession of episodes exploring different mood, all of which are melodic metamorphoses of the first eighteen bars of the piece”. It is a wise and appropriate summary of what is not an easy work to come to terms with.
The final Trio is my personal favourite. I have long felt that this work describes a landscape – not in any pictorial manner, but quite simply manages to capture the mood of a day’s exploration on the Chanctonbury Ring and the South Downs. It is to do with the composer’s or the listener’s response to that landscape. But this is also more about mere picture painting. It is about Ireland’s response to the genre of chamber music, his personal stylistic development and manages to complement both the mature composer and the youthful enthusiasm of his earlier scores. It is perhaps no surprise that he dedicated the work to William Walton. I have noted elsewhere that although Walton is the dedicatee, there are quite a few nods to Vaughan Williams in these pages. This is perhaps most obvious in the scherzo where there even appear to be allusion to a kind of folksong. Perhaps the highlight of the work is the romantically overblown slow movement.
This Trio was composed in 1938 and does not really respond to the international situation that was already engulfing Europe. The score incorporates a deal of material salvaged from the withdrawn Clarinet Trio. That work has been recently recovered and realised by Stephen Fox. It was released on Naxos 8.570550. It is important to realise that this earlier score was completely reworked and expanded: it was not just an arrangement. The Trio in E is written in four movements, which on the one had are contrasting, but on the other are thematically related to the opening ‘allegro moderato.’

It would be very easy to ignore the four salon pieces which have been included as makeweights for this CD. Somehow Naxos were some 12 minutes shy of a full hour and decided to allow these charming woks to appear alongside the main event. Oh! that they had chosen to present the James Friskin Phantasie in A minor which came second equal in the 1907 Cobbett completion –assuming that the score and parts still exist.
But these miniatures are certainly worth reviving occasionally. As the sleeve notes suggest, the first two of these, the Cavatina (1902) and the Berceuse (1904), “show that Ireland had a gift for melody in the style of say Elgar’s Salut d’amour or Chanson de Matin”.
The Bagatelle is a piece that I have not heard before. It was composed in 1911 for Marjorie Haywood who was soloist in the composer’s substantial First Violin Sonata. All three of these works could be described as charming: none of them are essential.

We are on different territory with the final piece – The Holy Boy. This work, written in 1913, was originally the third movement of the Four Preludes for piano which were not published until 1917. This work has been ‘dished up’ in a number of different arrangements including for string orchestra, organ, four part choir and cello and piano. Lately it has appeared on a Naxos CD in a version for clarinet and piano. The sleeve notes suggest that the inspiration for this piece may have been the Georgian poet Harold Munro’s Children of Love, which begins with the lies “The holy boy/ went from his mother out in the cool of the day” and evokes a meeting between Jesus and Eros. Perhaps a more prosaic suggestion is that the inspiration for this work was a certain Bobby Glassby, a chorister at St Luke’s Church in Chelsea. It is possible that it was both.
I enjoyed the playing by the Gould Piano Trio and felt that they had truly entered into the spirit of the music. They apply themselves with equal attention to the heavier Trios as well as the lighter salon pieces.
The programme notes are good and introduce these works well. There is so much that could be said about the Trios in particular, that it is quite a work of art to provide sufficient information in a manageable format.
Fundamentally, the competing versions are those on Lyrita, Chandos and ASV. What is the preferred version? Well, to paraphrase my late father – No one makes, and tries to sell, a bad version of the Ireland Trios.” Each of these releases is a great recording in their own right. I was ‘brought up’ on the Lyrita recording and have a certain bias towards that one. However, a comparative study notwithstanding, I suggest that this present release is a great investment. As I often say, all Ireland enthusiasts will insist on adding this CD to their collection.

Track Listing:
John Ireland (1879-1962)
Phantasie Trio in A minor (1908) Piano Trio No.2 in E (1917) Piano Trio No.3 in E (1938) Berceuse for violin and piano (1902) Cavatina for violin and piano (1904) Bagatelle for violin and piano (1911) The Holy Boy for violin and piano (1913/19)
The Gould Piano Trio Lucy Gould (violin); Alice Neary (cello); and Benjamin Frith (piano);
NAXOS 8.570507
With thanks to MusicWeb International

Sunday, 20 December 2009

"Holst, Cotswold Man and Mystic" By Marion M. Scott

This has been transcribed from the original typescript of an article written for The Listener May 1944. I have made a few minor edits to the text.
Thanks to Pamela Blevins for permission to use this document.


“I’m a Cotswold man, [1]” Holst once said to me and there was no mistaking the ring of pride in his voice. That settled once and for all any wonderment as to how far he was English. He was not only English but filled with local patriotism, typical of England’s counties. He loved his own one of Gloucestershire. It had more than a small share in shaping him to what he was, for it was during his weekly rounds when he trudged from village to village in the Cotswold Hills training small choirs, that he gained his masterly understanding of human folk and their voices. He could make contacts with any sort of musician from the most elementary amateur to the accomplished professional and could persuade them all to make music. But there was another element in his character alongside the vigorous, out-spoken, open-hearted Cotswold man – it was an element of which he himself was scarcely conscious, but which could be sensed as setting him a little apart from the warm familiar life of earth. It could not be assigned to any known county or country; it had more than a hint of exile from a native-land far-off in time and space; and it produced the same shiver of awe and chill that Flecker’s lines lay upon one in his poem “The Dying Patriot”
“West of these out to seas colder than the Hebrides
I must go
Where the fleet of stars is anchored and the young
Star-captains glow!"

Holst and his music being indissoluble it was inevitable that both elements, though apparently incompatible, should appear in his music. They were held there in working partnership by his own mastery, sometimes with one element, sometimes the other gaining the ascendancy and both occasionally uniting – as in this great suite The Planets to produce a perfect synthesis.
The programme selected by the B.B.C. for the performance this year to mark the anniversary of Holst’s death (May 25th 1935) represents the whole range. On the one is the Holst who delighted in the warm life of country sights and sounds, in Folk songs, and the richly characteristic music of such Englishmen as Boyce [2] and Purcell. Conversely there is Holst the withdrawn visionary of Christian and Eastern mysticism, of occult lore, pre-history and thoughts as abstract and ageless as mathematics.

The Country Song for small orchestra, composed in 1906, dates from the time when he was first carrying into London work the impetus of his country experiences. He had been appointed Musical Director at the Passmore Edwards Settlement [3] in 1904, and in 1906 came the Musical Directorship of Morley College [4]. What he achieved at these places was something fresh (or else long-forgotten) in the relation between teacher and taught, and he raised Morley College music to an excellence that has set the standard for all similar colleges. Holst welcomed eagerly everyone who would come along and make music. No matter how inexpert they might be he swept them on by his enthusiasm into efficiency, and he gave concerts with so remarkable a collection of oddments for an orchestra that any other conductor would have collapsed at the gaps. Occasionally he felt some outside help was desirable and he must, I think have applied to the Royal College of Music (where he himself had been a pupil in the 1890’s) for volunteers. I was asked to go and Holst put me to lead the band. It was an experience full of excitement, for he was always tremendously keyed-up with enthusiasm and flung his whole soul into conducting us. So far as I can recollect his beat did not give the impression of either ease or grace, but it was very clear to follow and he got the results he wanted from his players by something which probably was a kind of telepathy.
It did not function so strongly at rehearsals, but on the night of a concert it was sure to be there, for Holst’s mind became incandescent with music. There were the years when he held the belief (which I later heard him formulate) that “the fundamental necessity in all art is emotion; everything must spring from that. The fostering of this latent emotion is nine-tenths of the problem of education”.
Further, he believed that the music we love is that which educates us. So at the Passmore Edwards Settlement and Morley College his students had the best music practicable in the programmes, - Bach, Mozart and plenty of folk-songs. These latter were usually in arrangements made by Holst himself. Through them he got down to something fundamental in the musical make-up of the London workers who formed his choir. I remember in particular the fascination of his arrangement of “On the banks of the Nile” [5] with its strange lilt in the singing of the dotted notes that was not at all a ‘classical’ rendering but slid along with its clipped rhythm in a sort of musical counterpart of our clipping English speech of every day.
Egdon Heath for full orchestra, which Holst composed in 1927 lies more than a world away from his early works. Nothing of his has provoked such violent reactions in listeners as this strange almost frigid piece. For by the time it came to be written Holst’s love of abstract thought had led him to jettison his ideas of the functions of emotion in favour of Stravinsky’s theory that music should be dissociated from emotion. Fritz Hart [6], Professor of Music in the University of Honolulu and a fast friend of Holst’s from their student days relates in his fine study of Holst – “Gustav, perhaps, did not go quite as far as Stravinsky, but he once told me, most earnestly that composers should sternly eschew what he described as the ‘domestic emotions.’”
Though later, as Fritz Hart points out, Holst began to see the brilliant Stravinsky’s weaknesses, the cold poison poured in Holst’s ear produced some chilling works. In one sense Egdon Heath is the supreme expression of this phase. But though orchestras as far apart as those in Paris, Boston and Melbourne have hated it, that does not necessarily mean the work is wrong. It was of all others the one that Holst was surest about himself, and his tone-picture of Egdon Heath considered with an open mind, comes extraordinarily close to Hardy’s description of “a place ...singularly colossal and mysterious in its swarthy monotony.” But even more than to Hardy, I think Holst cast back to the Egdon Heath of pre-history. I once had the fortune to see Egdon (Wareham Heath) under its primaeval aspect. An eclipse of the sun fell that year on a spring morning. Sitting at the edge of the Heath with a friend I watched the birds and insects flitting over the winter-brown bracken and green bog-moss in bright sunlight. Silently the cheerful day dimmed; it grew so still we hardly dared speak; the great expanses of the Heath turned livid, and in the uncanny light of that darkness the world of pre-history welled up from the earth and possessed the landscape, cruel because unaware of feeling, inhuman because without sense of right and wrong. That to me is Holst’s Egdon.

In The Planets Holst found a subject ideally suited to his genius. Composed in 1914-16 he carried it through on a grandly spacious scheme of seven large movements and an exceptionally large orchestra, while his musical and intellectual concepts ranged freely through the solar system, depicting each planet under its astrological signification. In Jupiter the Bringer of Jollity Holst produced a magnificent consummation of Cotswold song and folk-song: and Mercury the Winged Messenger gives a measure of his own swiftness of spirit. These two movements have always found ready acceptance. But the remainder are even more worthy of attention and repay it a hundredfold: the effort is to penetrate their music and meaning.
Down to the least detail they are clairvoyant. Take the first bars of all- the opening of Mars. Though Holst sketched them before the War of 1914-18 the merciless rhythm hammered out by the bass is an almost exact replica of the rhythm made by the guns in France as they were heard daily in Kent during the summer of 1917. Or turn to Uranus the Magician. According to ancient beliefs in the lore of numbers 16 was called the ‘The Falling Tower’ or the ‘Uranus number’. Its unpleasant property was that just when everything is going splendidly and seeming on the point of fulfilment all would be dashed away and the victim left with nothing but his misery. Listen now to the last bars of Uranus where the old magician works up his enchantment into a terrific chord that blazes up FFF through the whole orchestra and then suddenly collapses PP into a moan and nothingness. Surely that is the Uranus number!
It is often said of good music that it is sincere. For Holst the word is too weak. Nothing short of intense truth satisfied him, whether it were metaphysical or material. It was a disturbing quality, making some of his work hard of acceptance, but it will keep it alive.
Marion M Scott May 1944

Notes:
[1] Holst was born at 4 Clarence Road in Cheltenham Gloucestershire, England on 21st September 1874
[2] William Boyce (1711-1779)
[3] The Passmore Edwards Settlement was an adult education college located in Tavistock Square in London. It was financed by John Passmore Edwards. It is now the Mary Ward Centre.
[4] Morley College is an adult education college founded in South Bank area London in the 1880s.
[5] “On the banks of the Nile” – from Seven Folk Songs H85 No.1 1904 -14?
[6] Fritz Bennicke Hart (11 February 1874 – 9 July 1949) was an English composer, conductor, teacher and unpublished novelist, who spent considerable periods in Australia and Hawaii (Wilkipedia)

Friday, 18 December 2009

How they Make Music at Morley College

A Chat with Mr. Holst and a Sight of his Work there
Part 3

The Lighter Side.
But the lighter side of the Art is not excluded. English Opera as She is Wrote, is the title of a work produced in 1917, and rehearsed during an air-raid. The composer of this remarkable work- (rumour has it that there were several composers) "boldly wrote his first five acts in the five great styles of his predecessors in operatic tradition, reserving the over­whelming revelation of his own New Tradition for his sixth and last act". The success of the com­bined Traditions was so immense that the opera was repeated some ten or eleven times, and will never be forgotten by those fortunate enough to be present.
Then on another occasion there was the first per­formance of a Futurist Symphonic Tone Poem in H, when Mr. James Brown introduced the work to the audience, and Mr. Holst conducted with two batons.

A Talk about the Music.
Having made these gleanings, I betook myself to the Hall again, and found Mr. Holst in the centre of an eager audience of performers, vocal and instru­mental, talking to them about the music for the concert. Brahms' Song of Destiny was his theme when
I slipped into a back seat, and he was having an accompaniment passage played through in skeleton ­on the piano to show the chord progressions (" the sort of thing," as he explained, "that you wouldn't expect to find before the XIXth century"), and another passage to show the curious effect of duple rhythm in 3-time.
Then came the Choral Fantasia, and a grand opportunity for that "inventive" faculty which the loss of the notebook required. I came to the conclusion, as I listened, that the audience in the lorry probably did not go to sleep during the invention of the History of Music. I give the improvisation more or less as it dropped conversationally from its author.
"This Fantasia seems to have been a study for the Choral Symphony", he began. "Beethoven wrote nine symphonies, and the Choral was the ninth. I'll just tell you a few things about them that will help you to remember better than dates. Actual dates aren't so very important for you. Beethoven has been called the Father of Modern Music (so have a good many people). You will understand what is meant if you look upon Bach and Handel as the culmination of contrapuntal music applied for orchestra and chorus. Before 1600, there was no orchestra. During the seventeenth century, the orchestra was beginning, and German music was coming into being. The Germans have always been eminent in orchestral music. For about a hundred-and-fifty years you have music for orchestra and chorus being written. After 1750, purely orchestral music developed.
Between 1750 and 1820, you have the work of three great composers, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, whose musical centre was Vienna. These composers thought a great deal of outline and clearness, and a great deal of dignity of form. As a boy, I looked down on all that. I daresay some of you don't feel that it's very important. But you must under­stand what point of view these great people had in writing. Now Beethoven, who was the youngest of them, came to maturity at a time when the validity of forms and authority of all kinds was being questioned. It was the period of the French Revo­lution, and if you look on Beethoven and the French Revolution as doing the same sort of thing in their different ways, you will see what Beethoven stands for in the history of music. He freed the Sonata Form. Haydn and Mozart thought of their work in harmonic sections, and when it's not their best work the result's a bit prim. Now Beethoven's First and Second Symphonies are just Haydn. But the Third takes us into a new field. Up till then, a Slow Movement had been a placid, graceful, rather happy affair: the Slow Movement of the Eroica is a Funeral March. The whole Symphony, moreover, is twice the length of a Haydn - everything on a much larger scale. And so he went on thinking greater and greater things, till he wrote the Seventh Symphony, which is the greatest of all.
In the Ninth, two of the movements are in the form of an Air with Variations, and you can easily trace the resemblance between the air of the Finale of the Symphony (this is how it goes…) and the tune of the Choral Fantasia, which is also in Variation form.
The Fantasia itself is in two movements. The first is given to the Piano, and is in improvisation style, ending on a dominant seventh. At this point, the join of the two movements, there is a curious mark in the score, and this note: 'At this place the director of the music is to give a sign to the orchestra'. It does not say what sort of sign he is to give, and you must remember that at that period the conductor was not an estab­lished person, and the 'Director of the Music' was probably the first violin, or some competent musician who sat at a harpsichord with the score, ready to come to the rescue at critical moments.
Well, now it's time to get on to rehearsing, but just one thing about the end of the Fantasia. Those of you who took part in the Italian Opera Scene of famous memory will remember the convention of the endless ending. Well, listen to this ­(Mr. Holst ran over the formula on the piano -Tonic, Sub­mediant, Subdominant, Dominant; Tonic, Submediant, Sub­dominant, Dominant). It's just what Beethoven does for his Coda here. Of course, it's deplorable, but people unconsciously conform to the convention of their day, and Beethoven's audience never thought any the worse of him for giving them what they expected. And - there are probably things which we are doing today about which in a hundred years, people will wonder how we could go on repeating such worn-out stuff. Now the Register, please, and then we'll start on the Bach."

"I always do learn from my Pupils."
The Register was taken, and the Bach chorus was pronounced “on the whole, good. Basses, I want a little more of you. Move in a little-it will be a help to you if you get nearer the 'cellos".
He descended from the desk and came over to his Interviewer. "What would you like us to do now, as you've got to leave at 9 o'clock?" The Inter­viewer thought it would be interesting to hear the Brahms. “Certainly". He turned to the per­formers "We'll take the Song of Destiny next ...” There was a fluttering of music as the Brahms was sought. The conductor wheeled round again to the visitor, “Did you see that? Their faces fell! Some of them don't like Brahms -they'd like to go on singing Bach all night! …And to tell you the truth..." [Here he told me the truth] "Ha, ha! But I always do learn from my pupils."
He mounted the desk again, and all too soon the clock pointed to the fatal hour of nine. I crept towards an inconspicuous exit just as the wind were being exhorted not to hurry. But this advice was not enough to save them from disaster. A stop was necessary, and they were condoled with for the lack of the trombone which would have made their passage clearer.
"We'll go back to... You have no letters? Oh… Yes, what did you say? Yes, "free from care". Free from care. That's it. Start at "free from care". And with those happy words ringing in my head I made my way to Waterloo Station.

Wednesday, 16 December 2009

Leslie Cochran: Composer

Who was Leslie Cochran? A search of Google gives no real clues. Certainly the chap I am looking for is not a famous American cross-dresser and US street-person or vagrant. Nor is he the author of learned books of educational science. There is no entry in Grove or other musical reference works. More tellingly Philip Scowcroft makes no mention of him in his comprehensive study of light (and not so light) music on MusicWeb International. There is nothing on ‘Cecilia’ the Concert Programme search or the RCM catalogues.

What do we know? Virtually nothing save what he published:-
A Child's Song, Unison Song words by H. J. Timothy London: Stainer & Bell, 1935
Christmas Song; words by N. Ingall London: Augener, 1930
Facility "So easy'tis to make a rhyme"; words by Robert W. Service. London: Ricordi, c1957
In Autumn Song; words by A. Symons London: Stainer & Bell, 1928
The Oxen; words by Thomas Hardy London: Augener, 1927
Roll along Spring, Unison Song; words and music by L. Cochran. London: Stainer & Bell, 1936
Sussex Sketches, for Piano; London: Augener 1925
On the face of it he appears to be a minor composer. Yet I have a copy of his Sussex Sketches for Piano –and they are impressive. This collection of pieces was published in 1925 and at first glance represents a somewhat typical ‘twenties effort – most especially with the titles of each piece. Yet, bearing in mind that these five ‘sketches; are probably about Grade 6, they have sound world that is far removed from the typical character sketch or pedantic work of the period.
The five movements are:-
Blue Butterflies and Wild Thyme
Dew Pans
There is a little village I know
Three Lone Pines
A Right Merry Evening at “Ye Sussex Pad”

The first and second sketches nod to Bartok whist the last has all the panache of either Warlock or Moeran. Alas the Sussex Pad public house, which I believe was near Lancing in West Sussex, was destroyed during the Second World War. I would love to find out a little more about this enigmatic composer.

Saturday, 12 December 2009

Gustav Holst: In the Bleak Mid-Winter.


Michael Short is surely correct in pointing out that many folk who have never heard The Planets or any other music by Gustav Holst will “nevertheless have derived great pleasure from hearing or singing … In the Bleak Mid-winter.” He suggests that although the composer never sought popularity or success for its own sake, he would have been pleased to know that this carol had been a success.
Interestingly, Imogen Holst writes that “the critical mind may reject In the Bleak Mid-Winter as sentimental, but the carol singer finds it entirely satisfactory”.

The carol was written at the express wish of Ralph Vaughan Williams who was the musical editor of the English Hymnal. Holst’s involvement with that project is another story.
In the Bleak Mid-Winter is the first of a group of Three Hymns for the English Hymnal [H73]. The other two were From Glory to Glory Advancing and Holy Ghost, come down. The exact date of composition is not known, as the original manuscript has been lost, but is believed to have been 1904 or 1905. They were first published in the English Hymnal in 1906. Interestingly, these three hymns are not included in the composer’s personal list of works.

The tune that Holst wrote for these words was called Cranham. This was named after a village in Gloucestershire which lies between the towns of Cheltenham and Stroud. Holst lived in this village for a while and it was there, according to a strong tradition, that he wrote this music. The house is now called ‘Midwinter Cottage’.

Cranham’ has been criticised as capable of winning a contest for “the dreariest melody in a well-liked carol...” I disagree with this evaluation, although I do accept that the mood is more appropriate for the first ‘chilly’ verse than to the more theological verses that follow. However, bearing in mind that this is a hymn-tune and not an anthem or choral setting, it is a reasonably well-balanced and largely appropriate piece. There are slight problems with the irregular metre of the poem which necessitates the use of additional chords for some of the poem’s syllables, and I have heard this lead to some slight confusion in carol services...
The tune is written largely in F major with simple modulations to the subdominant and the relative minor. Harmonically, there is little to test the skills of even the most inexperienced choirs, however there are a few major third for the tenors and basses in the lower register that could lead to problems. The formal construction of Cranham is A (A) B A.

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter,
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him,
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When he comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Throng’d the air,
But only His mother,
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,-
Yet what I can I give Him
Give my heart.

Christina Rossetti: The Complete Poems edited by Betty S. Flower London: Penguin (1979, 1986, 1990)
Christina Rossetti wrote this poem in 1872 for Scribner’s Monthly, an American Magazine. However it was not published until after the poet’s death in 1904, so it was a ‘new’ hymn when Holst made his setting. It has always been a popular carol in spite of its somewhat introspective feel. Certainly the immediately attractive thing about this carol is that Rossetti appears to have transferred the location of Jesus’ Nativity from Bethlehem to a colder Northern landscape. It is not too hard to imagine the locality as being something similar to Robert Bridge’s 'A Christmas Poem' which was set by Gerald Finzi in his In Terra Pax.
It may be very easy to pick holes in the underlying thought of this carol, for example is it theologically correct to suggest that:
“Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain.”
No doubt the current Bishop of Croydon would find the text risible and would be unable to understand how ‘ox and ass and camel’ could possibly adore! Yet most people who will sing this carol over the Christmas Season will not be too perplexed by the philosophical and theological underpinnings of what is one of the most evocative expressions of the Nativity in the English language. The poet takes the reader or listener on a journey which on the face of it is simple, yet in actual fact represents to the Christian a journey of cosmic significance. To non-believers it is an epitome of what makes Christmas-time so special.

The first verse meditates on the nativity, translating the action from Bethlehem to England. The poet introduces chilly imagery, such as ‘Frosty wind made moan’, ‘Earth stood hard as Iron’ and ‘Snow on Snow’. The second verse juxtaposes the two Advents of Christ - his birth and his coming in glory at the end of the ages. Yet, the third verse is more homely: it suggests that the humble circumstances of his birth were not only sufficient but also appropriate to the necessity of the Incarnation: the whole of creation bows before Him. The fourth is particularly poignant, with the contrast between the human Mother and her new-born baby and the fact the Holy Angels were also in attendance at the birth of the Son of God. It is as if heaven and earth, man, beast and angels were joined in Universal praise. Finally Christina Rossetti asks herself and the singer or listener what it means for humanity. She concludes that ‘all’ we can do is bring our hearts.

In the Bleak Mid-Winter is found in many editions appearing in a wide variety of publications including Songs of Praise, The Oxford Book of Carols, Hymns Ancient and Modern (revised edition 1950) the Church Hymnal and the BBC Hymn Book of 1951. Furthermore, Leslie Woodgate has arranged this work for male voices and Holst’s daughter, Imogen has provided a version for female voices.
There have been countless recordings of this Carol made over the years, but perhaps is best known is that of King's College Cambridge (YouTube).
Other composers who have set these words include Harold Darke and the underrated composer Bruce Montgomery– of ‘Carry On’ film fame. Benjamin Britten incorporated the text in his masterly A Boy was Born. There is a less well-known version by Thomas B. Strong. Finally, in 1927 Eric Thiman set this poem for soloist and piano.

With thanks to MusicWeb International