William Alwyn: Violin Concerto

Of all the major compositions of William Alwyn, I have personally found the Violin Concerto the least satisfying. There are three reasons for this. Firstly, it is a long work lasting nearly forty minutes, yet there is a seeming imbalance between movements – the first being as long as the second and third combined. Secondly, I believe that the ‘finale’ is less effective than the preceding movements and never quite fulfils their challenge. Finally, I guess that there could be a suggestion that the ‘cinema’ is never too far away from this music: it is a criticism - if it is a criticism rather than an observation - that has also been made of the slightly later First Symphony (review).

The opening ‘allegro’ is truly massive - and involves a considerable diversity of musical material – some of it absolutely ravishing. A great deal of this movement is reflective and, rather unusually, it ends quietly. The middle ‘allegretto e semplice’ is really a ‘song without words’ complete with a ‘haunting Irish-tinged theme’. The final allegro is an ‘alla marcia’ which is full of energy and exploits the soloist’s technique to the full.

The history of this Concerto is unfortunate. The composer never heard a full performance of it. He had to ‘make-do’ with a private concert on 3 March 1940 where a violin and piano reduction was used. Frederick Grinke, the Canadian-born violinist was accompanied by the composer. Henry Wood had been keen to perform this work during the 1943 Promenade Concert series; however after three days consideration, the ‘powers that be’ at the BBC rejected this proposal. The work was put away and was largely forgotten until the 1993 Chandos recording with Lydia Mordkovitch (CHAN9187).

Having raised my ‘concerns’ about this concerto, I have to confess that there is much beautiful, attractive and ultimately satisfying music in its pages. Coupled with this, the committed and often moving performance given by Lorraine McAslan makes this an impressive offering that rises above any suggestions of stylistic imbalance. It is a work that, in spite of any perceived faults, is lyrical, full of ideas, has well-considered writing for the soloist and a general sense of musical competence. Certainly much of this work is romantic with the composer often wearing his heart on his sleeve. It has even been compared to Elgar’s great Concerto! It is a work that could grow on me.

The Violin Concerto is available on NAXOS 8.570705 with Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by David Lloyd Jones

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review first appeared.

Fred. Delius: Two Tales of his Childhood

Fred (or Fritz as he was called by his brothers and sisters) was noted for enjoying lurid stories, or Penny Dreadfuls. [1] Of course, his parents refused to allow the young lad to read them. However he managed to find a way of perusing them that his parents would not find out about. He used to hide his books and magazines in the bed and read them when he was meant to be asleep. We have all done this of course. However, Delius went a stage further. In order not to be caught, he rigged up an 'ingenious contraption of strings and pulleys," by means of which he could turn off the gas-light when he heard his mother approaching. Alas, one night the pulley system did not work, the young lad was caught and the apparatus was confiscated.

Yet while all the while under these boyish spirits, the call of music was never silent. Fritz announced one day that he wanted to learn to play the violin. 'What do you think you can do with a violin?' asked his father. 'I can play it,' answered Fritz.

And so they bought a violin and handed it to Fritz, just to show him he could not play it. It was the first time he had ever touched a violin, but he surprised them all by playing a tune on it at once. So he was allowed to have lessons [2] and he was only twelve years old when he played a trio with the greatest living violinist and cellist. [3]

[1] Thomas Beecham suggests that this literature included Wild West stories, mystery thrillers, and his favourite, Sweeney Todd!

[2] From a certain Mr Bauerkeller from the Halle.

[3] Probably Alfredo Piatti (1822-1901) the cellist and Joseph Joachim (1831-1907) the violinist, composer and conductor

With thanks to the unnamed author in 'The Young Musician' January 1936

Arnold Bax: Violin Concerto

Arnold Bax is well represented in the CD catalogues – even if a little unevenly. For example, all British music enthusiasts must be delighted (and amazed) that there are four cycles of the complete symphonies currently available – on CD or MP3. (For the record those are by Chandos with Handley and Thomson, Lyrita and Naxos).

The most popular work is Tintagel with more than thirty recordings currently available. This is closely followed by the magical The Garden of Fand with eleven. However at the other end of the scale, two of my favourite Bax works, the Violin Concerto and The Truth of the Russian Dancers are represented by just one recording each – and one of these is an MP3-only exercise. However there are always the second-hand shops. I confess to buying my copies the day they ‘hit the streets.’

The Violin Concerto is a great work. It ought to be amongst the top 10 of British essays in this form. (I will give a list of these ‘10’ in a later post!), however I guess that very few people know this present work.

The concerto was begun in 1937 and completed in March the following year. However it was not performed until a St Cecilia’s Day Concert in 22 November 1943. The soloist was Eda Kersey (pictured above right) with the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Henry Wood. The concerto had originally been dedicated to Jascha Heifitz, however he found the music ‘somewhat disappointing; which may be a euphemism for ‘not sufficiently virtuosic'.

Lewis Foreman reminds listeners that Eda Kersey was tragically killed in an air raid in the summer of 1944. The impact on the concerto was that as she was the only champion the work virtually died with her.

Bax made a number of revisions and cuts to the work, Graham Parlett suggest the premiere possibly used the uncut version. However, the fully restored version was not heard until the Chandos recording with Lydia Mordkovitch, the London Philharmonic Orchestra with Bryden Thomson.

Graham Parlett quotes Julian Herbage writing in the 19 November 1943 edition of the Radio Times: this includes a short programme note by the composer, so it is a good summary of the concerto. 'Unfortunately I have had the opportunity of examining only the piano score of the concerto.....I asked the composer if he could in his own words give me a description of its structure, and in spite of his usual diffidence he sent me the following brief explanatory note:-

This concerto consists of the usual three movements, but it may be advisable to say a few words about the unconventional shape of the first. This actually comprises three distinct short pieces labelled respectively: Overture, Ballad and Scherzo, and yet at the same time the whole may be counted as in sonata form.

The Overture contains several themes, all of a restless and energetic character; the following Ballad takes the place of a main second subject; while the Scherzo represents the development section (making mock of the themes of the first part). Finally there are triumphant restatements of the chief themes of the Overture and Ballad.’

William Mann has written in the Penguin survey of ‘Concertos’ [1] that the violin concerto ‘sprang surprises in plenty on those who attended the first performance (in 1937) expecting to hear a thickly-scored, highly-coloured, perhaps diffuse rhapsody –something like a long, accompanied cadenza. There is none of that here. This concerto’s three-movement design is concisely organised, its texture clear cut. The solo part offers opportunities to a brilliant player, but there is something almost classical about the work’s avoidance of heavy emotion or anything so loquacious as a cadenza-almost, but not quite, for its amiable lightly romantioc freshness rather recalls Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto.’

The second movement, with its pseudo-eighteenth century soundscape and third are no less interesting. Perhaps the highlight of the work is the luscious ‘Richard Strauss-like’ waltz that comes towards the end of the Rondo.

One word of warning: if you are lucky enough to have the violin/piano score, lookout for the cuts. For example there is an entire page cut-out towards the end of the last movement. It certainly floored me until I mugged up on the work in Graham Parlett’s indispensable catalogue!

Finally, I wondered if there is any ‘programme’ in this concerto, especially as to what the ‘ballad’ alluded to. There is no easy answer. But I suggest that the listener read Lewis Foreman’s account (in his biography of the composer) of Bax’s ‘affair’ with Christine Ryan, who was at nearly half the composer’s age. The ‘relationship’ ended by March 1943; just about the time that the full score of the Violin Concerto was completed!

Notes:

[1] The Concerto ed. by Ralph Hill Penguin, London 1952 (1954,1956)

Bax’s Violin Concerto is available on Chandos. It can also be found on Youtube.

Arnold Bax: Legend-Sonata for Cello and Piano

Arnold Bax’s relatively late Legend-Sonata for cello and piano was written in 1943. I guess that when I first heard this piece I imagined it to be something along the lines of The Tale the Pine Trees Knew – an exploration of some Celtic derring-do. However, this is a relaxed work in comparison to much that Bax wrote in the first thirty years of the twentieth century. The composer may have had his own personal reasons for describing this work as a ‘Legend’ however this piece is totally successful as purely absolute music. Pirie suggests that this work is endued with “a certain rich creative contentment.”

The sleeve notes of the Lyrita recording of this work gives a detailed outline of the form and progress of this work that bears study. Interestingly, Peter Pirie compares the first main theme to that of the first movement of Elgar’s Cello Concerto –I am not so sure. Although this first movement has the appurtenances of ‘sonata’ form there is, like so much of Bax’s music a feeling of ‘phantasy’. This is a lovely opening movement that ends quietly. The second movement is a ‘lento espressivo’ which does not really change the mood of what has preceded it. Bax uses, as one of the principal themes, what sounds like a folk-tune that could easily have come from the pen of Jack Moeran. This music pervades the entire movement: the effect is music of heart rending beauty. This is surely one of the loveliest things that Bax ever wrote. However this mood of introspection is cast aside by the ‘rondo.’ This is a tune that is “built up on a flick of semiquavers.” It is really a classically constructed rondo that hardly deviates from the textbook. However Bax does introduce some rather interesting and sometimes disturbing music. There is one gorgeous episode that surely harks back to the slow movement. The work ends with “a flick of a diabolical tale.”

Surely this is one the composer’s great chamber works and deserves to be better known by all Baxians and English music enthusiasts.

This work can be heard on the Lyrita label with Florence Hooton and Wilfred Parry.

Gavin Bryars: Piano Concerto etc. on Naxos

I will put my cards on the table. This is the first time that I have heard any music by the composer Gavin Bryars. It could be argued that this will preclude me from making any criticism of this CD either positive or negative. On the other hand listeners and reviewers have to begin somewhere: there is always going to be a ‘first piece’ from any composer that is consciously listened to. The emphasis here is on ‘consciously’ as I may have picked up some of his music on Classic FM or Radio 3. In some ways this is an advantage: I have no preconceptions of his musical style save what I read in the CD liner notes. So I hear this work with an ‘innocent ear’ and draw my conclusions based on analogy to other works by a variety of composers. And this is important. One of the criticisms levelled against Bryars is his eclecticism. In fact, the liner notes make a very high falutin’, almost sycophantic, claim for the composer – ‘He...absorbs and integrates all the great possibilities in sound and style which mankind has acquired during the course of music history –both from its traditions and from the avant-garde.’ (Surely avant-garde is also a part of musical tradition?) In slightly less ingratiating terms this simply means that such diverse voices as Handel, Cage, Xenakis and Ives can be heard in his music. The test of this eclecticism is whether these influences are parodies or a genuine absorption of styles made into something new and vivid. On this matter, my jury is still out.

Three works are presented on this CD – two solo keyboard pieces and a major ‘piano concerto’ that also makes use of a choir. Any discussion of these works depends heavily on the liner notes accompanying this CD.

The first work, After Handel’s Vesper was composed in 1995 and was originally conceived for solo harpsichord. I find this a little bit of a ‘ramble’ in spite of the fact that the composer has tried to fuse seventeenth-century style with jazz and a higher degree of chromaticism than Handel would have cared to use. It is certainly an interesting work that engages the listener. However, the balance between its ‘baroque ornamentation’ and the ‘lush’ harmonies can be a little overstated. (I always thought that only grass could be lush!). The formal characteristics seem to be predicated on a ‘free and improvisatory playing style’ rather than anything based on a ‘contemporary Handelian ‘sonata’ or ‘suite.’ Yet it works well for piano, possibly better than the original harpsichord: there are some lovely, moving moments in amongst the pseudo -minimalistic note spinning. My only concern is that the great variety of material appears to lack cohesion.

Ramble on Cortona is perhaps an unfortunate title: Grainger-esque maybe in name, but not in concept or sound. Once again this is a ‘fusion’ piece that bases its material on themes from one of the composer’s earlier works, Laudes. This in turn was derived from a thirteenth-century musical manuscript found in Cortona in Italy. The Ramble is a well crafted work that takers the listener on a journey – more a meander than a ‘yomp’. However, like much of Gavin Bryars, the harmonies and pianism are well expressed and sometimes spine-tingling. Not a masterpiece perhaps, but certainly an enjoyable and important essay for the piano.

The major event on this surprisingly ‘economical’ CD (only 52 minutes long) is the Piano Concerto The Solway Canal. Naxos has been unable to give the text to the two sonnets by the Scottish poet Edwin Morgan which inspired the work. Fortunately they are quite easy to locate on the internet, so there is no excuse in not perusing them. However, from my point of view I am not quite sure what the ‘makar’ is driving at in these beautifully written poems. Perhaps it does not really matter too much. I (naively perhaps) guess it is some allusion to ‘global warming’ and subsequent flooding.

The best description of this concerto is that it could be regarded as film-music. I guess each listener will provide his or her own screenplay - probably not based on the poet’s words. The piano is not used as a romantically-charged protagonist; rather it takes the role of a guide and leads the band and singers on a journey (Ramble?) through a variety of landscapes. However these landscapes are varied more in colour and mood rather than ‘geological’ structures. I am not sure what the singers actually bring to the party; however Busoni used a choir in his mega-concerto and also Beethoven in his less-than successful Choral Fantasy, so it is not really a novelty.

There is nothing particularly challenging about this music, especially if one likes misty, neo-impressionistic music that blurs harmonies and melodies into a gorgeous wash of sound.

The music is well played on this CD by the soloist Ralph van Raat, who also contributed the laudatory liner notes. The Cappella Amsterdam and Netherlands Radio Chamber Philharmonic under their conductor Otto Tausk provide an excellent and accompaniment in the piano concerto.

This is an interesting CD that will appeal to a wide range of listeners who are comfortable with Gavin Bryars approachable style. However the down-side of this is that it could be argued that there is little to challenge the listener in these three works. Certainly the musical sounds are superb and often deliciously moving; however I do worry a little about the exposition of these pieces. Perhaps the title Ramble on Cortona is in danger of summing up the formal structures of all three works?

Track Listing:

Gavin BRYARS (1943- )

After Handel’s Vesper (1995) [11:47]

Ramble on Cortona (2010) [12:34]

Piano Concerto (The Solway Canal) (2010) [28:21]

Ralph van Raat (piano)

Cappella Amsterdam; Netherlands Radio Chamber Philharmonic/Otto Tausk

NAXOS 8.572570

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review first appeared.

Eric Coates: Sound & Vision (ATV) March

I have always had a soft spot for Eric Coates ‘television’ music. I am not sure that I can remember them being played in their original capacity, but I have long enjoyed hearing them on record and CD.

As Naxos point out in their sleeve notes to their recording of this present tune, Coates was the ideal man to produce these important ‘trademark’ pieces. In fact, in the late forties and fifties he was regarded as ‘king of light music.’ In 1946 Coates had written a piece for the BBC called simply T.V. March. This coincided with the resumption of television broadcasting after the Second World War. In 1948 he composed the Music Everywhere March for Rediffusion. For those that may not recall Redifussion was a company that relayed television signals by way of relay networks. No aerial was required!

In 1955 Coates wrote the Sound and Vision for Associated Television (ATV) and finally, the following year he revamped the 1937 Seven Seas March for Television South Wales and the West (TWW) These marches or signature tunes tended to be used when the programmes ‘started up’ often about 5pm. In those days television was not a 24-hour enterprise as it is now.

In spite of Geoffrey Self’s view that this Sound and Vision March was of lesser quality than the re-titled Seven Seas March for TWW I have long felt that this is an attractive work that is both rousing and at times almost wistful – certainly in the quieter and slower trio of this tune. Certainly Coates makes excellent use of melodies and counter melodies.

Rob Barnett on MusicWeb International has written that this march ‘concisely sums up Coates’ gift for cock-a-whoop flat-cap jauntiness. There’s even a doff of the ‘titfer’ to Sousa.’

Currently the Sound and Vision March is available on two recordings – Naxos and Dutton Epoch

E.J. Moeran Complete Solo Folksong Arrangements

I agree with Rob Barnett when he says ‘that unadulterated folksongs do not in general hold my attention.’ That said, whichever way one looks at British music of the first half of the twentieth century this genre can be seen to be pervasive … or possibly corrosive, depending on one’s musical aesthetic. It manifested itself in a number of ‘rhapsodies’ often qualified by Constant Lambert’s dictum that ‘the whole trouble with a folk-song is that once you have played it through there is nothing much you can do except play it over again and play it rather louder.’ Or it could be the case that from Stanford to Britten composers have been keen to produce editions of indigenous tunes – be they Irish, Scottish, English or Welsh. Vaughan Williams is known to have edited over 800 examples; E.J. Moeran considerably fewer.

The present CD complements the recent release on Chandos of the ‘Complete Solo Songs of E.J. Moeran’, which consists of his ‘art’ songs, including his Housman and Joyce settings.

The first volume of folksongs arranged for voice and piano was the Six Folk Songs from Norfolk. This was published by Augener in 1924. The songs were collected in three villages in the County from performances by four local men. Two of the tunes collected, ‘Lonely Waters’ and ‘The Shooting of his Dear’ were to be used in orchestral compositions by Moeran.

Two things can be said about these folksong arrangements. Firstly the style of John Ireland is pervasive in the piano accompaniment. This is not a criticism, for it certainly adds value to the total effect of these songs. Secondly he approaches these songs with a lightness of touch often denied to similar compositions by Percy Grainger and Arnold Bax. For example ‘The Shooting of his Dear’ has an accompaniment that at times seems to be almost non-existent.

Six Suffolk Folksongs appeared eight years after the Norfolk set and were conceived as a companion volume. They were collected from two small villages, Earl Stonham and Coddenham. Geoffrey Self notes that they were ‘realised’ at Ipswich where Moeran was convalescing. These songs do not quite match the ‘out of doors’ feel of the Norfolk series. However, it is clear that they are an accomplished contribution to the genre: perhaps what is lost in spontaneity is made up in the subtlety of the combination of voice and piano?

The Songs from County Kerry set is a late addition to Moeran’s catalogue. These seven songs were composed in 1948 and turned out to be the composer’s last foray into the genre. The composer’s preface to this collection notes that: “These arrangements are taken from a much larger collection I noted in Co. Kerry at odd times during a period roughly between 1934 and 1948. They were sung by Kerrymen in Cahirciveen, Sneem and Kenmare. The verse by verse variants in some of the tunes are exactly as I heard them from the singers themselves on a number of occasions.” Certainly it is possible to agree with Geoffrey Self that these seven songs represent ‘a mature approach and [a] masterly touch rarely reached in the earlier sets.

This CD also includes a number of standalone folksong settings. These include the well-known ‘The Sailor and Young Nancy’ with its chorus sung by a male voice choir. The recording also presents the ‘pseudo-folksong’ ‘The North-Sea Ground’ which may have been composed for the Oxford and Cambridge Musical Club. Yet it is a fun piece that deserves its place in this collection. Performers should note that the group of ‘miscellaneous’ numbers would make a good sequence of songs at any recital.

The liner-notes for this BMS CD release are superb – in fact they set a standard that many other writers should aspire to. The essay by Roy Palmer of the English Folk Dance and Song Society is divided into two complementary sections – Moeran as ‘collector’ and Moeran as ‘composer/arranger’. There is a separate essay by Ian Maxwell on the recently re-discovered song ‘The North Sea Ground’. Alas, space has not permitted the reproduction of the texts for these 26 songs. However, the BMS have thoughtfully provided a .pdf file on their website. These texts make fascinating and enjoyable reading in their own right. My one concern is the epithet ‘complete’. There is always one ‘trainspotter’ that finds the exception that proves the rule. In this case it would appear to be ‘O Sweet Fa’s the Eve’- which is listed in Geoffrey Self’s catalogue listings for Moeran’s ‘folksong arrangements’. Now, I guess the reason is that the words are not ‘anon’ but are by Robert Burns and the tune would appear to be an Old Norwegian one. Fortunately, it is available on Moeran: The Collected 78rpm Recordings with John Goss as the soloist.

Yet this is an insignificant complaint against this excellent collection. I enjoyed the singing by the two soloists, the Weybridge Male Voice Choir and the piano accompaniment by John Talbot. I have a preference for Marcus Farnsworth’s vocal style but Adrian Thompson gives a good account of the nine numbers he is billed to sing. Every word is clearly enunciated and the sense of each song is easily understood.

There is, I believe an excellent strategy for listening to this CD. It has to be recalled that much of Jack Moeran’s (and other composers’) folksong collecting was done in public houses. The first thing is to find an appropriate bottle of beer – Adnams' Oyster Stout for the Suffolk Songs, Woodforde’s Wherry for the Norfolk examples and Clanconnel Brewery's McGrath's Irish Red for those from County Kerry. Like the beer, these songs need to be approached slowly and with considerable respect. Listen to them in the order given in the track-listing. However, I would suggest keeping the ‘miscellaneous’ song group till last. Even without the ale, these songs will reveal their charm only if sampled slowly. Any attempt to ‘binge’ may put the listener off them for good.

These are typically well-wrought realisations of a part of the British Heritage that was dying out rapidly in the first few decades of the Twentieth Century. We should be grateful to the many enthusiasts for their assiduity in saving these songs before they disappeared forever. In spite of Jack Moeran’s often haphazard methods of noting, documenting and filing the material he collected, these 26 songs are a testament to his skill as a composer and as a musical antiquarian. It is the tension between these two occupations that makes these songs interesting, perfectly satisfactory and ultimately moving.

Track Listing:

Ernest John MOERAN (1894-1950)

Complete Solo Folksong Arrangements: Six Folksongs from Norfolk; The North Sea Ground; High Germany; The Sailor and Young Nancy; The Little Milkmaid; The Jolly Carter; Parson and Clerk; Gaol Song; Six Suffolk Folksongs; Songs (7) from County Kerry

Adrian Thompson (tenor); Marcus Farnsworth (baritone); John Talbot (piano)

Members of the Weybridge Male Voice Choir/Christine Best

Full contents list at end review

BRITISH MUSIC SOCIETY BMS438CD [65:38]

Haydn Wood: the Isle of Man Works

I was looking over the Irish Sea the other day from North Wales, and could clearly see the Isle of Man. It is a place that I love, but have not been as often as I would like to. I did think about the works that the Yorkshire-born Haydn Wood wrote whilst living and working on that great Isle.
When I got back home to London, I listened to the four works that have been recorded. Each of them is a worthy tone-poem, that in spite of using local ‘folk tines’ never becomes parochial. They are pieces that deserve recognition and study. It is a task that I will try to consider over the coming months.
According to HaydnWoodMusic.com there are another three works that have not yet been recorded. I have linked to the CD pages where the work is currently available.
A Manx Rhapsody (1931). 
Mannin Veen, Dear Isle of Man, A Manx Tone Poem (1933).

A Manx Overture, The Isle of Mountains and Glens (1937).

'King Orry' (1939).

'Manx Countryside Sketches' (1943).

'Mylecharane, Rhapsody' (1946)

'A Pageant of the Isle of Man' (1951).

As a taster I provide a link to a YouTube recording of 'A Manx Rhapsody'.

Charles Hubert Hastings Parry on English Song

A short piece written as a part of Parry’s Summary of the History and Development of Mediaeval and Modern European Music. It was written before the explosion of English art –song which was in many ways led by Parry himself – with Stanford and Vaughan Williams. The names of Hatton and Clay have been long forgotten.

‘In this country song-writing reached, in the past generation, a pitch of degradation which is probably without inartistic parallel in all musical history. Mercantile considerations and the shallowness of average drawing-room taste produced a luxuriant crop of specimens of imbecility in which the sickly sentiment was not less conspicuous than the total ignorance of the most elementary principles of grammar and artistic construction, and of the relation of musical accent to poetical declamation. In those days the songs of Hatton (1809-1886), and of Sterndale Bennett, and the early songs of Sullivan and those of F. Clay (1840-1889), were honourably conspicuous for real artistic quality and genuine song impulse. Fortunately the lowest point appears to have been reached, and though there are a good many representatives of the old school still active, the present day is represented by mature masters of their craft who can write real genuine songs ; such as Mackenzie, Stanford, Cowen, and Maude Valerie White, besides a few young composers, such as MacCunn and Somervell, who produce songs as genuine and as beautiful as are to be found anywhere in Europe. The impulse is certainly going in the right direction, and if the public can be persuaded not to insist so exclusively upon songs being either vulgar or trivial and vapid, the future of English song will undoubtedly be such as the nation may be proud of.’

Charles Hubert Hastings Parry: Summary of the History and Development of Mediaeval and Modern European Music (London, 1893, 1904)

Adam Pounds: Notes and News

I recently reviewed Adam Pounds new CD ‘Resurrection’ on these pages. The composer has told me that it has been has been well received and that he is now planning a new recording of smaller – scale works which is planned for release next year.

He has given me notice of two important concerts in June that will feature his music. On the 11th (7.30pm), he will be conducting the Academy of Great St. Mary’s at the University Church, Cambridge in a performance of the Enigma Variations by Elgar and the programme will also include the first performance of his Norfolk Seascape. This is a rhapsody for solo flute and orchestra which the composer wrote for his wife, Dinah, who will be the soloist. Pounds told me that ‘like most of my music, the piece is programmatic and the opening represents the coast at Thornham in its tranquillity and timeless beauty. This is one of our favourite places.’

Thornham, for the curious, is a few miles east of Hunstanton on the North Norfolk Coast. There will be a second performance of the work on the 25th June at the Emmanuel United Reformed Church, Trumpington Street, Cambridge (7.30pm) when he will be conducting a concert that will include two choral pieces by Vaughan Williams – the Serenade To Music and Toward The Unknown Region.

Finally, hot off the press: Adam Pound has just finished composing a piece for voice, flute, viola, piano and percussion. The composition is called Time and sets words by Blake, Shakespeare and Shelley. This will be performed on July 14th (7.30pm) in Michaelhouse, Trinity Street, Cambridge. The evening will also feature other music and poetry readings on the subject of ‘time’.

Adam Pounds is not only a composer, but also a busy conductor. He is currently planning for the new season of music performed by Academy of Great St. Mary’s when he will be conducting some great music including the magnificent Concerto for Orchestra by Bartok.

Stanley Wilson: Ship Ahoy! for piano

I discovered this piece of piano music in the Oxfam bookshop in Worcester. If I am honest, it was the deliciously ‘camp’ –in a ‘Carry On’ sense – cover that caught my eye. I guess it would just not be possible to publish something like this in our more politically correct, sensitive days.

Stanley Wilson is a minor composer who seemed most at home with song writing. There are settings of John Masefield and A.E. Housman in the catalogues. I was unable to find any references to his life and times.

Ship Ahoy! is a set of ‘twelve nautical scenes’ for pianoforte. They were composed, or at least published in 1932 by James Forsyth in Manchester. It was rather expensively prices for its time at 3/-. A working man was probably on £2 a week!

The 12 sketches all describe some aspect of a mariners life – ‘Messmates, Ben the Bosun, Up Channel, White Horses, The Lonely Lighthouse, Breakers, The Stowaway, Davy Jones Locker, In the Hammock, Mariner’s Star, the Middle Watch and finally Blue Peter. These titles can be construed in any way the reader or player wishes!

Yet these sketches are well written, imaginative and employ a considerable technique. Apart from the composer’s predilection for augmented fifths, the musical content is varied and satisfying. I guess that the playing standard is probably about Grade 5.

But perhaps the best advert for these pieces was the opinion of a well-known (but in this case unacknowledged) pianist who suggested that these ‘Nautical Sketches’ were worthy and he would certainly use such material in his piano teaching lessons. Luckily I can play most of them, myself!

Finally, based on these pieces I would love to come across a little bit more of the music of Stanley Wilson, especially, perhaps his setting of John Masefield’s ‘Tewksbury Road’. It may be very well worth hearing. And perhaps someone out there knows something of the composer?

English Choral Music - A Garland for the Queen (1953)

For the second time in recent weeks I have been a little disappointed when a CD arrived on my doorstep. I had glanced at the title of this present offering and was delighted to see that a new recording of A Garland for the Queen was on offer. However, it is in fact a re-issue of an old Gamut CD from the early nineteen-nineties. There is nothing wrong with programme, the performance or the sound quality, however it may catch a few people out. The presentation of the disc and the liner-notes is totally different. The clue, I guess is in the record label – HERITAGE: this suggests old material, re-presented. However, if the CD is sealed, there is nothing to tell the potential purchaser that it is a re-release.

I have long been an enthusiast of A Garland for the Queen, in spite of the fact that it is conventionally regarded as being a generically substandard work from its ‘composer collective’. Perhaps this view is best summed up by Felix Aprahamian writing in the Sunday Times (7 June 1953) ‘Ten distinguished native composers contributing ... have shown happier discrimination in their choice of notes .... those with the best chance of survival are ... the more ... harmonically harmless settings by Bax, Ireland and Vaughan Williams.’

The Garland was commissioned by the Arts Council of Great Britain, to celebrate the Coronation of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth in 1953. One wonders if that ‘quango’ would be active in anything so ‘establishment’ in our age? The ten poets and ten composers were bidden to create settings for mixed voices. The idea was to craft a 20th century ‘replica’ of the famous The Triumphs of Oriana (1601) which was presented to Queen Elizabeth I. The present series of songs is not a parody of the earlier cycle but it is certainly influenced by it. The madrigal is a creative inspiration for both of these composite pieces.

Interestingly, there is another exemplar, which did not have such an influence and that was the Choral Songs in Honour of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, which were published in 1899 to celebrate that Queen’s eightieth birthday.

Nigel Dodd, writing in the liner-notes for the competing Priory recording of this work suggests that although, ‘the content of many of the poems is forward-looking, the style of several of the songs [music] is much more conservative.’ It is a good summary of the overall effect of this work.

All of these ten songs offer challenges to the singers. The most straightforward would appear to be those by Arnold Bax, Ralph Vaughan Williams and John Ireland. Arthur Bliss has created an appropriately fresh opening number with his ‘Aubade’, whilst the deeper sentiment of Edmund Rubbra’s ‘Salutation’ brings the sequence to a fitting conclusion. Listeners may detect the influence of Henry Purcell in Michael Tippett’s offering, ‘Dance, Clarion Air’. I believe that Lennox Berkeley’s ‘Spring at this Hour’ and Herbert Howells’ ‘Inheritance’ are the most complex from a harmonic point of view. Finzi’s contribution is well summed up by Ivor Keys: “Now the white-flowering days, the long days of blue and golden light, wake nature’s music round the land’, and Finzi is the man to fit the words not only technically like a glove, but in mood, enlivened by some quintuple rhythm and surprising modulation, of mellowed rejoicing in ‘Old England of the Shires.’” Finally, Alan Rawsthorne’s ‘Canzonet’ to words by Louis MacNeice is the most challenging and forward-looking of all these songs.

My personal favourite is John Ireland’s gorgeous ‘The Hills’ to a text by James Kirkup. This has convincingly survived the ‘changes and chances’ of the succeeding 58 years.

One of the most fascinating exercises when considering the ‘Garland’ is to wonder at who was ‘missed out’. Why no contribution from Malcolm Arnold, William Alwyn, Benjamin Britten, Armstrong Gibbs, John Gardner, Elizabeth Maconchy, and William Walton ... the listener can add their own? Maybe some were asked and refused? It may be a tale waiting to be told.

Finally, out of interest the poets are Henry Reed, Clifford Bax, Christopher Fry, Ursula Wood, Paul Dehn, James Kirkup, Walter de la Mare, Edmund Blunden, Louis MacNeice and Christopher Hassall respectively. This information is given in the liner-notes, but not in the track-listings.

Ad majorem Dei gloriam was one of the first works that Benjamin Britten began after arriving in America in June 1939. It is a setting of seven of Gerard Manley Hopkins’s poems and was composed during August of that year. It was dedicated to Peter Pears and his Round Table Singers. Due to the outbreak of the Second World War, the premiere was abandoned, and the work was laid aside. After Britten’s death in 1976, the score was returned to Aldeburgh and was finally performed in 1984.

The seven poems set by Britten are Prayer I (‘Jesus that dost in Mary Dwell’), ‘Rosa Mystica', ‘God’s Grandeur', Prayer II (‘Thee God, I come from, to thee I go’), ‘O Deus, ego amo te’, ‘The Soldier’ and ‘Heaven-Haven’.

The music is in a trajectory from A Boy Was Born, although Britten balances the complexity of his setting of ‘God’s Grandeur’ with a much simpler texture in ‘Heaven-haven’ and ‘Thee God, I come from, to thee I go’. However, the entire set is demanding for singers: the sheer variety of the texture, the considerable vocal range and the complex rhythms make it a virtuosic tour de force.

I have never really got my head around Britten’s Sacred and Profane. For some reason, it just does not ‘do’ for me. However I recognise that it is a great work that deserves its place in the repertoire. Its technical difficulty precludes it being regularly performed. Sacred and Profane was dedicated to the Wilbye Consort and was duly given its first performance at Aldeburgh on 14 September 1975, which was the year before the composer’s death. The programme notes rightly point out that this is a ‘cyclic’ setting of eight medieval lyrics. The corollary of this is that they have to be performed as a whole and cannot, with any artistic justification, be excerpted.

This is a virtuosic piece that challenges performers to the limit. The five-part chorus explores a wide variety of moods and emotions and melodic and harmonic devices. The work is a contrast between the sacred and secular and musically between consonance and strikingly effective dissonances. However, these distinctions are often blurred. I suggest that any listener discover the texts and read them before listening as without them the words are barely understandable to any but a medieval scholar. They can be found in the liner-notes for the competing Chandos recording webpage.

I was disappointed that Heritage did not print the texts of these works: they were given in the 1991 edition of this recording, so it cannot be a copyright issue. Secondly the liner-notes have been ‘dumbed down’ with a few ‘adequate’ notes by an anonymous author replacing an excellent and highly informative essay on the ‘Garland’ by Clive Bartlett. The notes about the choir have contracted and have not been rewritten, in spite of the fact that twenty years have elapsed since it was originally penned. Even the director of music has curtailed his name from Timothy to Tim!

However, this being said, the quality of the performance is second to none, the Cambridge University Chamber Choir being capable of dealing with the various styles and complexities of the programme.

Tracklisting:-

A Garland for the Queen (1953) 
Arthur BLISS (1891-1975) Aubade for Coronation Morning 
Arnold BAX (1883-1953) What is it like to be young and fair? 
Michael TIPPETT (1905-1998) Dance, Clarion Air 
Ralph VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958) Silence and Music 
Lennox BERKELEY (1903-1989) Spring at this hour 
John IRELAND (1879-1962) The Hills 
Herbert HOWELLS (1892-1983) Inheritance 
Gerald FINZI (1901-1956) White-flowering days Op. 37 
Alan RAWSTHORNE (1905-1971) Canzonet 
Edmund RUBBRA (1901-1986) Salutation 
Benjamin BRITTEN (1913-1976) A.M.D.G (1939) Sacred and Profane, Op. 91 (1975) Cambridge University Chamber Choir/Timothy Brown

HERITAGE HTGCD213

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

The Golden Age of Light Music: Confetti on Guild

The liner-notes give a very good description of what this CD is all about: it is worth quoting: ‘The word ‘confetti’ describes small pieces of paper, of various shapes and colours, often thrown by guests at weddings. In musical terms it can equally apply to an assortment of pieces in different styles, conveying a variety of moods and emotions. In other words, almost a haphazard collection of tunes with no particular theme, except perhaps that they are all a little different.’

One of the delights of the Golden Age of Light Music series is the fact that the compilers have endeavoured to ‘theme’ each successive release. Inevitably, they came across many pieces of music that did not quite ‘fit’ with the chosen topics. Yet it would have been a pity to have ignored these numbers, so Confetti, like Kaleidoscope before it, aims to ‘sweep up’ some of these ‘lost’ works. It is a job well done.

This is not music that needs to be analysed: its raison d’être is simply to be enjoyed. However there is an interesting balance between composers who are well-known to the average listener and those that are only celebrated by the light music specialist or enthusiast. One surprise is Market Day by Wilfred Josephs, a composer who is perhaps better known for his concert, film and television scores. Yet this jolly piece from the late fifties, is both enjoyable and well-wrought: it certainly succeeds in providing a good mental image of its subject.

Other big names include Robert Farnon’s imaginative Manhattan Playboy – who would not like to be associated with this glamorous character? Frederic Curzon’s Mischief is exactly that: a little piece that is slightly naughty but not wicked.

How does one listen to this CD? I guess that it is like a finger buffet: a little nibble here and there. It would be a pity to just through-play this disc with no reference to the track listing. Some of the joys of light music are the titles and the moods that they can evoke in an imaginative mind. Who will not be impressed by romantic notions such as Violins in Velvet, Musik Klingt Durch Die Nacht (Music sounds through the night) and Confetti? Or there are the topographical images of Via Amalfi, Utopia Road, Champs Elysées Café with romantic tune accordion and car horns, and the previously mentioned Market Day? Then there are the novelty numbers such as Who Killed Cock Robin? Bees a Buzzin’, Bluebell Polka and Treble Chance. And finally Joey’s Song pushes gently towards a soft Rock and Roll complete with electric guitar.

And then the musicals are not ignored on this CD: Rodgers and Hammerstein contribute Getting to Know You, Cole Porter is represented with I Concentrate on You and the music for the show Dear Miss Phoebe is by Harry Parr-Davies.

A number of delightful dance numbers include Camerata’s Pizzicato Rumba, Joseph Kuhn’s Montevideo Bolero and F. Stanley’s Bluebell Polka. There are many other pieces that make up this smorgasbord of delights

Yet it is the overall ambience of virtually all of this music that will appeal to most listeners. It is a subtle balance between well-crafted music, a feeling of lost innocence, a mood of joyfulness and happiness and an appeal to the imagination that characterises this music. On all these accounts this is a highly successful and enjoyable disc.

A full track listing, with extracts, can be found on the Guild Light Music Webpages

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first publshed

Trevor Duncan: Wine Festival

Everyone loves a glass of wine (or two) wherever it is drunk. However there are certain romantic locations which add to the drinking experience. For example drinking Lacryma Christi in Shepherds’ Bush is good: in a little bar in Sorrento overlooking the Bay of Naples is much better! I love the South of France – especially Cannes and Monte Carlo. There is nothing nicer than sipping a glass of the local vino whilst watching the world go by. And I guess that Trevor Duncan felt that way too about life. After his success with the idiomatic Girl from Corsica, his publishers persuaded him to write some more pieces with a Mediterranean flavour. As the sleeve notes for the Marco Polo recording of Duncan’s music points out ‘...in Wine Festival he imagines the sunny south of France where no-one really needs an excuse to celebrate the riches of the vines.’

The music opens with a sultry, moody tune that may suggest the weather but is more likely to be a lady! It is set in the minor key, but is warm and in no way sad. Soon a balalaika enters the fray, with a typically Mediterranean tune, which may be more suggestive of Greece than France. Suddenly snatches of a dance tune tries to assert themselves but are swept aside by Mademoiselle. However they are not kept out of the picture for long. Soon the fiesta begins with a sunny tune that surely depicts villager, vintners and the swirling of the wine. Good use is made by Duncan of the woodwind section of the orchestra. Once again the balalaika enters, suggesting evening, perhaps. The girl returns complete with lovely harp glissandi. Yet the piece is brought to a fine conclusion with a coda that echoes the dance.

Wine Festival can be heard on Marco Polo 8.223517

Brian Easdale: Film Music on Chandos

As a teenager I was much more impressed by The Battle of the River Plate than with The Red Shoes. In those days television regularly showed old black-and-white films on the three channels then available. Certainly the high-paced action of John Gregson, Anthony Quayle and Patrick Macnee was infinitely preferable to Moira Shearer and Leonide Massine in a movie about ‘ballet.’ As a youngster I wanted to join the Navy: I never wanted to be a ballet dancer. However, I must confess that I do not recall the music as being an integral part of either these films.

Life moves on: I never did join the Navy: however I have come to enjoy ballet. With the advent of video and DVD it is possible to watch these two films any time I choose. Ever since discovering that Alan Rawsthorne wrote the music for The Cruel Sea I have read the film credits looking to see who the composer of the score was. As an aside, the number of times British films involve Muir Mathieson is unbelievable. It was only quite recently I noticed that Brian Easdale had written the score for The Red Shoes.

It is no part of a review of film music to discuss the plots and sub-plots of the film, if for no other reason than many listeners may not have seen the movie. Plot spoilers are not helpful. However four things need to be said about the score to The Red Shoes.

Firstly, this is superb music that should be in the repertoire of all orchestras alongside British ballet scores by Lord Berners, Constant Lambert and William Walton. Secondly the score as realised by John Wilson is actually quite short: some of the individual elements are between one and two minutes long. Yet there is a lot of musical activity packed into these nine sections. Thirdly it is possible to play ‘hunt the influence’ here to one’s heart’s content. Apart from the three above-mentioned composers one can detect the sound-world of Arthur Bliss, Maurice Ravel and Arnold Bax. However this is no criticism. These were all composers of ballet masterworks and would surely have been the stylistic model of any composer writing a film score about a troupe of ballet dancers.

Finally, I have to make the only negative comment about this entire CD. I wish Easdale had not used the ondes martenot. It is an instrument that (for me) gives any music a kind of ‘Star Trek’ feel that is unwarranted. I know that mine will probably be a minority view on this issue. Yet, it does not detract too much from what is a sumptuous and well ordered piece of music. The mood is typically romantic with a sinister undertow. The orchestration (ondes martenot notwithstanding) is totally brilliant.

One of my discoveries of 2011 has been the short suite based on music derived from the film Secrets of Kew Gardens. This was one of Brian Easdale’s earliest contributions to the world of film music. This documentary charts the course of the seasons in the context of the work at the Royal Botanical Gardens. Philip Lane has taken the original score which was for chamber ensemble and has slightly expanded the orchestration. The Suite is in four movements - an Introduction and Allegro, Spring Flowers, Summer Sequence and a Finale. The music is extremely attractive albeit short - it all seems to be over far too soon. Easdale has managed to create an impressionistic mood that is wholly English - without falling into Delian clichés. This is especially evident in the shimmering Summer Sequence. Neither has he succumbed to the temptation of folk-song. This short suite is a superb standalone miniature that portrays one of the most magical places in London with equally imaginative and magical music.

Black Narcissus is not a film I would choose to watch, although I concede that it was something of a hit when it appeared on screens in 1947. I guess stories about ‘religious’ orders in faraway locations struggling with their sexuality is just not my bag. However the music is a totally different matter. The present suite has been realised for chorus and orchestra and presents music taken from a number of key scenes from the film. Easdale has created an exquisite score that reflects the vastness and remoteness of the Himalayas where the action is largely set. However two of the movements are actually flashbacks to a time before one of the leading protagonists took holy orders. The choral music in the Irish Song certainly pushes towards an almost John Tavener-esque sound-world. It is heart-breakingly beautiful. The interlude depicting Sister Ruth and Mr. Dean is reflective. I did love the wild Hunting Song which once again looks back to days spent in Ireland. This is impressive choral writing of an almost Orffian kind! The final ‘death scene’ is scary, but ultimately effective music. Stylistically this music is an Aladdin’s cave of allusion. The Editor notices Bax, Delius and Ravel. One could add a fair few more. However, Easdale never writes pastiche or parodies. Certainly it could have been a dangerous temptation to have written some tacky music in the style of Albert Ketèlbey’s In a Monastery Garden or In a Chinese Garden. For the time it was composed, this was an advanced score: it well deserves it place on this CD.

Although I accept that the music for The Battle of the River Plate is not quite as impressive as Walton’s music for The Battle of Britain, I find something quite dark and menacing in both the Prelude and the March that is perhaps less romantically overblown but has a touch of seriousness that is entirely appropriate to the story the Graf Spee and its scuttling. Great stuff!

The Suite from Adventure On! is an absolute treat. This is an impressionistic trip around the world that is both satisfying and totally evocative of the places visited - without ever becoming ‘kitsch’. Phillip Lane in the liner-notes likens this work to Jacques Ibert’s fine orchestral work Escales. Its origins lay in a musical score for a documentary about Massey Ferguson tractors. This trade-film naturally showed their machines in operation in all corners of the world. Easdale recycled some of this music and created a suite which was subtitled ‘A musical progress for Sir John Barbirolli and the Halle Orchestra’. Places taken in on the tour include Africa, Aden, India and a final progress from Malaya to Fiji. This is a long (20 minutes) work that at times become almost symphonic in its scale and scope: the orchestration is vivid and sensitive. All in all, this is a wonderful discovery.

Perhaps it is better to lay the rather trivial plot of the film Gone to Earth aside when listening to the suite derived from the score. This is not always easy music to listen to. For example The Hunt of the Death Pack is not a bucolic idyll of huntsmen dressed in pink on a jolly. It is a man or woman being chased to a literal death. Certainly the choral writing in this piece at times nods towards a minimalistic mood which is certainly surprising for a score written in 1950! There is a little bit of sweetness and light in this music, yet most of it is deep, profound and troubled. Listening to this suite makes me wish that Easdale had contributed a symphony to the repertoire. There is something inherently beautiful (in spite of its troublesome nature) about much of this music that seems to defy analysis and probably transcends the film for which it was originally composed.

Like every other CD in the Chandos Film Music series, the quality of production is excellent. The BBC National Orchestra of Wales plays these scores with huge enthusiasm under conductor Rumon Gamba. The programme notes are helpful, in spite of some hard-to-read white text superimposed on grey photographs. However, the selection of historical photographs of the composer and also a number of stills from the films make this an attractive all-round production. Finally, all British music enthusiasts owe a tremendous debt to Philip Lane for his sterling work in producing performing editions of these film scores. Without his sheer hard work most of this music would go unheard, except on rare re-runs of these films on TV or in DVD players. However, John Wilson must also be congratulated on preparing the score for The Red Shoes. All in all, this is a tremendous achievement.

And finally, what of Manchester-born Brian Easdale (1909-1995)? It would be easy to assume that he was merely a film-music composer. Yet his catalogue covers a wide range of interesting and tantalising pieces. There are the three operas, Rapunzel, The Corn King and The Sleeping Children. Certainly his orchestral music could make an attractive Dutton Epoch release and would include Five Pieces for Orchestra, Six Poems and Tone Poem. And then there is the Concerto Lyrico for piano and orchestra. There are also chamber works, songs, organ and piano pieces. Finally, one major desideratum must be the Missa Coventriensis.

This present excellent CD must surely act as a catalyst for a deeper exploration of Easdale’s music.

Track Listing:
Brian EASDALE (1909-1995) The Red Shoes - Ballet (1948) Kew Gardens - Suite for Chamber Orchestra (1936) Black Narcissus - Suite for Chorus and Orchestra (1947) The Battle of the River Plate - Prelude and March for Orchestra (1956) Adventure On! - Suite for Orchestra - A musical progress for Sir John Barbirolli and the Hallé Orchestra (1957) Gone to Earth - Suite for Chorus and Orchestra (1950) 
BBC National Chorus of Wales/Adrian Partington BBC National Orchestra of Wales/Rumon Gamba Cynthia Millar (ondes martenot) (Red Shoes) 
CHANDOS CHAN10636
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

Signature: Women in Music -Spring/Summer 2011

The new issue of Signature: Women in Music has just hit the streets: well, at least the World Wide Web. This e-journal is surely one of the finest musicological magazines in the entire field of the subject. And that is not just because I have an article about the 'forgotten' composer Bluebell Klean in these pages! I have been allowed by the Journal's editor, Pamela Blevins to quote from the editorial to give a feel to the contents of this 'bumper' summer edition.

"In this issue we are moving forward through time, starting with song composer Josephine Lang in the 19th century to Olga Samaroff, Myra Hess and Elinor Remick Warren in the 20th century and Meira Warshauer in the 21st century. Each woman made or is making significant contributions to music. Some like the little-known Bluebell Klean fell into obscurity while others like Liza Lehmann enjoyed success in more than one field of music."

From a British music point of view, the key articles are those about Lehmann, (dare I say it) Klean and Myra Hess...and an important CD review of Doreen Carwithen's film music.

"Pianist Myra Hess is still well known in Britain, particularly for her life-enhancing concerts during the dark years of World War II, but she is not as well known today in the United States. John K. Adams, who had the privilege of knowing Hess, provides insights into her as an artist and as a woman and recounts her experiences in America."Musicologist and critic Marion Scott (1877-1953) who knew composer-singer Liza Lehmann provides a look at her through a review of Lehmann’s autobiography. A new CD of film music by English composer Doreen Carwithen raises the question “what might have been?” had Carwithen be given the opportunities of her male contemporaries in the film industry. Although her contribution did not contain any well-known films, she had the stuff of greatness as her music reveals."

However all the articles are of tremendous interest to those interested in music and/or the advancement of women in what was/is largely a man’s world.

Finally, one of the most important features of this journal is the quality of the numerous photographs of composer and musicians. Virtually all are seen here for the first time and add a considerable value to the magazine.

Read the Maud Powell SIGNATURE Journal on-line.

New Edition of Manchester Sounds

Manchester Sounds. The Journal of the Manchester Musical Heritage Trust. Edited by David Fallows and David Ellis. Vol. 8 (2009-10). 272p

Volume 8 (2009-210) has just hit the streets. This fine journal published by the Manchester Musical Heritage Trust is an exceedingly worthy production from a city that is renowned for its musical achievement –both past and present. In fact, it must be one of the best musical journals currently available. It balances musical history and musicology but never descends into a ‘faux’ intellectualism or specious analysis that is only of interest to people writing PhDs!

The range of articles is wide and is not simply limited to immediate events and people in the Manchester area. For example Robin Walker gives a good account of an afternoon spent with Michael Tippett in Oxford during 1977, which was shortly after the first performances of that composer’s great Third Symphony. Peter Davison contributes an important study of Manchester’s reception of Gustav Mahler, including a complete list of first performance and recordings made by the Hallé and other local orchestras. We are reminded that Neville Cardus wrote a fine book about the composer – Gustav Mahler: his mind and his music (1972).

One of the essays that most interested me is Peter Willis on ‘Chopin in Manchester’ – an exploration of that composer’s only concert in the Northern city – at the Gentlemen’s Concert Hall, Monday 28 August 1848. It is a study that I have long toyed with doing myself. But I was well and truly beaten to the post! However, the detail and genuine erudition of this essay is stunning. Any efforts of mine would have been fourth rate. It is essential reading for all Chopin enthusiasts and is a model for future articles of a similar vein.

Perhaps one of the most important contributions to Manchester Sounds is the ‘Catalogue of Printed Works’ by Graham Peel. This has been prepared as part of Rolf Jordan’s forthcoming study of the composer. It makes fascinating reading and reveals a man who wrote a deal more music than the few Housman settings that he is ‘relatively’ well known for. It is surely essential that an imaginative CD company consider a 'collected songs' of Graham Peel – akin to that recently released for Jack Moeran. I look forward to reading Jordan’s biography when it is published; meanwhile there are a few piano pieces by Peel that I can play – including the Valses Piquantes.

Some of the other articles which caught my eye in this edition of Manchester Sounds include an overview of Graham Peel’s life by Caroline Densham (is this really Peel on page 129?), John Turner and David Lasocki consider the work of Joshua Collinge/Collins, an Eighteenth-Century Mancunian Woodwind Maker and an important study of the ‘compositional worlds’ of David Ellis and Sir John Manduell by Anthony Gilbert. Ernest Tomlinson, who is well known for his major contributions to the world of ‘light music’ as a composer, performer and historian present aspect of autobiography of a young ‘North County composer.

There are the usual offices reviews and a list of ‘First Performances in the Greater Manchester. The book reviews include a memoir about Sir Neville Cardus by Robin Daniels, Charles Halle: A Musical Life by Robert Beale. Important CD release considers include the Dutton Epoch Concerto Lirico by Thomas Pitfield and the Chandos showcase of music by Edward Gregson.

Included in this volume is a CD interview with the Master of the Queen’s Music, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies made on 26 November 2009. Alas, I was unable to get my CD player to ‘track’ it. However I am assured that this is an impressive tour de force that ranges across many subjects including his 1960’s compositions, his involvement with the musical grouping New Music Manchester, his public role as Master of the Queen’s Music and the ‘problems facing young composers in the twenty-first century’. It would be a pity if this interview is only heard by readers of this journal – it would appear to be an important addition to the musical history of Great Britain.

This is an excellent magazine which promotes music from the Greater Manchester area. By and large every article is a major contribution to the scholarship of this area. It is a journal that will be referred to again and again by musicologist and music lovers wherever they live.

Manchester Sounds is published by the Manchester Musical Heritage Trust and copies are available from Forsyth Brothers Ltd. 126, Deansgate, Manchester M3 2RG. Price £10-00

Ian Venables: Three Pieces for violin & piano.

It would be both easy and lazy to describe Ian Venables Three Pieces for violin, Op.11 as an example of regurgitated ‘English Pastoral’. The composer himself has admitted the influence of ‘landscape’ on this piece. However, this work is not a parody of earlier composers from the so-called ‘cow-pat’ school of writing. It is certainly not an exercise in ‘bucolic nostalgia’ for a rural scene that has largely disappeared. There are no suggestions of clogs, Morris dancers or ploughman’s lunches.

Ian Venables explained to me the background of his Three Pieces for violin and piano. He had arrived in Worcester in 1986 to take up a new teaching appointment and soon began to explore the town and countryside around this great city. He was moved by the landscape and wished ‘in some way to capture the wonderful Severn Valley landscape in music.’

More specifically, Venables recalled that whilst walking on the Malvern Hills and visiting Sir Edward Elgar’s grave at St. Wulstan's Church in Little Malvern, he was inspired to compose the Pastorale. The composer considered that the combination of violin and piano gave best expression to the ‘inherent lyricism’ that he perceived in the surrounding countryside. However a different emotion underlies the Romance – this is a personal reflection on love and relationships. The final piece was not motivated by any particular event or landscape – however Venables claims that this Dance simply reflects the ‘happy state of mind’ he had at that stage of his career. He insists that it is an exercise in overcoming technical difficulties and the creation of musical ‘excitement’. Yet this movement is the most hard-edged of the three pieces.

In spite of the fact that this present work is effectively three discrete pieces, it would be possible to regard it as a ‘Sonata’, in spite of the fact that there is a considerable disparity between the pieces or ‘movements’. Running through the entire work is a thread of reflection. The final Dance, in spite of its exuberance and ‘joie de vivre’, is not all emotional plain sailing.

The opening ‘pastorale’ responds well to one or more of the ‘classical’ or even ‘baroque’ definitions of this form. Nevertheless, this is not a piece that is written in imitation of shepherds and their shawms and pipes; nor is it an exercise in presenting an offering to the infant Jesus on Christmas morning as in Bach’s Sinfonia which begins the second part of the Christmas Oratorio nor the Sinfonia Pastorale in Handel's Messiah. However, there are certain characteristics that could suggest that Venables was unconsciously nodding in this direction.

Firstly, there is an inherent simplicity of the formal structure which is conceived in ternary form. Secondly, there is the relatively straightforward harmonic scheme which is definitely not adventurous. And thirdly, the moderate pace of this music may be suggestive of a lullaby. The melody that dominates this piece is both tender and flowing. On the other hand the central section moves away from this tranquillity and produces something more involved and with greater depth. The programme notes for this work suggest that in this theme the composer ‘unfurls a passage full of ardent lyricism as the piano supports a soaring melody with a luminous accompaniment’. However the simplicity and innocence of the opening material returns to bring the piece to a satisfying and gentle conclusion.

The Romance is much nearer to the pastoral models derived from the first half of the twentieth-century. In fact, this is the piece that most closely approaches the musical ethos of Gerald Finzi. This is reflective music: meditating on the past rather than looking to the future. Many of Finzi’s works have been described as being valedictory or retrospective, and in this sense Venables has equalled the exemplar for sadness and introspection. It is strange that the composer considers that this work was inspired by an affair of the heart that was progressing rather well. To my ear there is certainly something of the ‘what might have beens’ drifting across the pages of this piece. Yet in the opening and closing sections of this movement there is a serenity that is rarely disturbed: Venables has created stasis here and the listener is barely conscious of the passage of time. If anything, one wishes the music would go on forever. However, the conclusion of this ‘movement’ is warmer and has a brave try at being optimistic, nevertheless the original mood is never quite pushed to one side.

In spite of Ian Venables assertion that the Dance reflects his ‘happy state of mind’ there is something sinister, almost ‘Bartokian’, in this music that balances over and against a gorgeous ‘second subject.’ This tune is one of the very best that Venables has so far given us. The programme notes give the game away, I think, when it states that the ‘theme’ from the Romance is presented heroically in octaves by both violin and piano.’ Heroic indeed! But not before the soloists have managed to put a number of phantoms to flight. All is well in the coda and the work concludes on a positive note.

Trying to understand what ‘English Pastoral’ (in a musical context) means can be a difficult task. Popular opinion would suggest that any composition that is gentle and reflective could be labelled ‘pastoral’-especially if written by an Englishman. More pertinently it would tend to imply something akin to Ralph Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending or George Butterworth’s The Banks of Green Willow. However the reality is much more complex. The musicologist Ted Perkins has suggested that there are at least three possible stylistic markers for this particular genre: 1) the use of folksong/modal inspired melody, 2) impressionistic techniques and finally 3) a certain neo-classical colouring. Even the briefest of studies of Venables Three Pieces will show that although elements of all three categories can be found in this work, no ‘marker’ dominates or presumes to be the constructive principle of this piece.

To complicate matters further, Eric Saylor (Musical Quarterly 91/1-2: 2008) has recognised the concept of ‘soft’ pastoral and ‘hard’ pastoral. The former can be applied to a poem or a piece of music that seeks to escape from the relative chaos of urban life to the rural idyll. He writes, ‘This ‘soft pastoralism’ parallels the Classical withdrawal from the city to the simplicity of Arcadia and likewise reflects the Romantic ideal of nature as an alternative to unsavoury modernity’. ‘Hard’ Pastoral on the other hand would attempt to ‘present an unsentimental view of nature and the countryside, free from escapist trappings.’ So, what is the stylistic set for Ian Venables’s Three Pieces? Firstly, I would suggest that there is an air of ‘soft’ pastoralism about the genesis and realisation of much this music. There is a tangible mood created in these pages that would allow anyone who has visited the Malvern or the Severn Valley will empathise with it. Secondly, Venables has not chosen to use the devices as defined by Perkins of early twentieth-century pastoralism in any consistent way. These three pieces are written very much in a post-romantic style that has more than one stylistic marker. But lastly, there is much that is retrospective and backward-looking in this music: from the relatively conservative musical language, by way of the obvious debt to Finzi to the largely introspective mood of the music that aligns itself with many pieces conceived in the works of the so-called English Pastoral School. Like much of Ian Venables music it is not possible to assign absolute influences. What is true is that his music lies on a trajectory from the music of Vaughan Williams and Butterworth through Finzi and some more modernist accretions such as Bartok and Stravinsky. This trajectory emerges onto a new pasture that is wholly Venables own, but never denies the musical traditions of the past. Finally, it would appear to me that the first two movements represent a kind of ‘soft’ pastoral whilst the final ‘dance’ is leaning towards a harder-edged example of this genre.

The Three Pieces for violin and piano were first performed at the Countess of Huntingdon's Hall, Worcester with Barrie Moore (violin) and Graham Lloyd (piano).

An excellent recording of this music can be heard on SOMMCD0101