British Works for Cello and Piano: Volume 1 on Chandos

A great place to start the exploration of this excellent new CD of cello and piano music is with Granville Bantock’s beautiful ‘Hamabdil’. The work originated as an entr’acte to Arnold Bennett’s play Judith (1919) which was based on the well-known story from the Apocryphal Old Testament.  In the same year, the music was worked up into at least three versions including one for Cello Solo, Strings, Kettledrum and Harp (or Piano) and the present arrangement for Cello and piano (or harp).  This short piece is based on a Hebrew melody which is subjected to a series of ‘continuous variations.’ The mood of ‘Hamabdil’ is rhapsodic and carries the burden of sadness that seems to typify much Jewish melody.

Of all the works on this CD the one that I am most at home with is the gorgeous Sonata by Charles Hubert Hastings Parry. The first (and only) time I have heard this work ‘live’ was at the end of long, but thoroughly enjoyable ‘Parry Day’ at the Royal College of Music.  Raphael Wallfisch and Hiroaki Takenouchi gave a stunning account of the Cello Sonata. At that time I felt that it was unbelievable that this work in not in the cello repertoire: I have since heard the excellent performance by Andrew Fuller and Michael Dussek on Dutton Epoch (CDLX7102)

Parry’s Cello Sonata is a relatively early work, dating from 1879 when the composer was thirty-one years old. Interestingly, it was composed the year before the first performance of the ‘mould breaking’ choral Prometheus Unbound which has been ascribed as being the moment that British music’s self-confidence was restored.  The present Sonata is written in three movements with the slow ‘andante sostenuto’ being especially moving and expressive.  The opening movement is constructed in formal sonata form. However, the final movement has a mysterious introduction before ‘the sun comes out’ and the music becomes much more positive. The work ends with an impressive coda.  Although it is possible to note stylistic allusions to Brahms and Schumann in much of this Sonata, it is a remarkable work that reveals the elusive note of Parry’s ‘Englishness’ for the first time. 

Most of Frederick Delius’ chamber works were composed late in his career. The present Cello Sonata was written in 1916 and was premiered by Beatrice Harrison and Hamilton Harty at the Wigmore Hall on 31 October 1918. The music is expounded in a long single movement that is separated into three contrasting sections ‘Allegro ma non troppo’, ‘Lento, molto tranquillo’ and ‘Tempo primo’.  There is little relaxation in this sonata with an almost continuous development of the music as a long unbroken song. The cello explores the entire compass of the instrument: the accompanist never has a rest.  Delius chamber works have never gained the popularity of the orchestral music. This may be due to the more austere nature of much of the writing. However, this Cello Sonata does have considerable warmth that makes it approachable to people that may prefer the orchestral ‘Cuckoo’ and ‘Paradise Garden.’ It is a beautiful work that is ultimately satisfying, even if it does not quite fit into the Delian mould.

The Guardian Reviewer has noted the five columns of liner notes given to the exposition of the John Foulds' Cello Sonata. It certainly takes a deal of time to read this closely written text. However I disagree with his assessment of this work as ‘unremarkable’ ‘despite the energy and virtuosity it demands.’ I largely sympathise with the first half of Malcolm MacDonald’s contention that this ‘remarkably powerful and original’ sonata is one of the finest, if not the finest Cello Sonata by an English composer.’

The sonata was composed in 1905 when Foulds was 25 years old. It was considerably revised for publication in 1927.  However in the 85 years since it publication it appears to have suffered considerable neglect. Foulds enthusiasts will have the excellent British Music Society (BMS423CD) recording with Jo Cole (cello) and John Talbot (piano)

It is not necessary to give an outline of the Sonatas structure save to note that it is written in three movements – Moderato quasi allegretto, Lento and Molto brioso. The heart of the work is the middle movement. This is a heart-achingly beautiful elegy. The Fouldain fingerprint of ‘quarter tones’ should not put off the listener: it is not a gimmick, but essential to the musical argument.

It is useful to recall that John Foulds was the only professional cellist amongst the composers on this disc. The present Sonata calls for a significant technical skills from both instrumentalists to present the sweeping development of this hugely passionate and expressive work. 

I was hugely impressed by this CD. The two soloists, Paul Watkins and Huw Watkins respond with great sympathy and understanding to these diverse pieces. The liner notes by Calum MacDonald are considerable and tell the listener virtually all that they could wish to know about these four pieces. I felt that the sound quality was excellent and revealed all the nuances of these works. I am delighted that this is Volume 1 of a projected series. Roll on the next release! 

Track Listing:

Charles Hubert Hastings PARRY (1848-1918) Sonata for Cello and Piano in A major (1879-80, revised 1883)
Frederick DELIUS (1862-1934) Sonata for Cello and Piano (1916)
Granville BANTOCK (1868-1946) ‘Hamabdil’: Hebrew Melody (1919)
John FOULDS (1880-1939) Sonata for Cello and Piano, Op.6 (1905, revised 1927)
Paul Watkins (cello) Huw Watkins (piano)
CHANDOS CHAN10741

Josef Holbrooke: A Correction?

I recently came across a ‘delightful’ letter written by Josef Holbrooke to the Musical News and published on March 17, 1900.  Two weeks previously (Saturday, March 3 1900) had seen the first performance of the composer’s symphonic poem The Raven at the Crystal Place under the baton of Mr. Augustus Manns. The review in this paper had not been too encouraging -it introduced the discussion by suggesting that not much can be said in favour of Mr Josef C. Holbrooke’s symphonic poem… Edgar Allan Poe’s poem is of the dismal order, and so perhaps it is a compliment to Mr Holbrooke to say his music is of the same type…’ However, it was not so much the bad press (in this instance) that angered the young composer, but some ‘facts’ given about him. I quote the letter in full.

A Correction?

To the editor of “Musical News”

Sir, - I must call attention to one or two mistakes in your estimable paper which irritate me.

I am 21 years of age, not 22, neither am I a Royal Academy student, two years ago yes, not now.

I should have thought your worthy critic would have known better to suggest the “Raven” being written at a school of music.

I hope I am not trespassing on you valuable columns.

Josef Holbrooke

Finsbury Park, N. London

The editor replied:

We hardly realise the cause of irritation in being described as 22, instead of 21 years of age, nor yet being thought a student of the R.A.M. Both Sterndale Bennett and Arthur Sullivan were proud to belong to the Academy, and wrote some of their finest works while still being classed as ‘students’. – Ed., M.N.

Hubert Parry writing about ‘Sonatina’

Charles Hubert Hastings Parry wrote a considerable number of entries (123 of them) for  the Dictionary of Music & Musicians (A.D. 1450-1889), edited by Sir George Grove and published in its entirety in 1890. For anyone who has struggled through their piano ‘grades’ the ‘sonatina’ will be a familiar form. One thinks of those by Clementi, Kuhlau and Diabelli. However, there have been later examples including works by John Ireland and Maurice Ravel. Neither of these to pieces are easy or suitable for the beginner. Interestingly, George Grove felt that Parry’s contributions to the Dictionary were ‘inclined to be wordy and diffuse’. Certainly a comparison with the current entry for ‘Sonatina’ reveals that Parry’s essay is some 692 words long whereas the current unsigned article is a mere 232 words.  Parry’s text requires no commentary. However, Parry was wrong in suggesting that the form, apart from teaching, was an anachronism, as the two 20th century masterpieces mentioned above would suggest.

SONATINA. This is a work in the same form and of the same general character as a sonata, but shorter, simpler, and slenderer. The average form of the sonata appears to be the most successful yet discovered for pure instrumental works of large scope. It is admirably adapted for the expression and development of broad and noble ideas; and the distribution of the various movements, and the clearness with which the main sections and divisions of each movement are marked out, give it a dignity and solidity which seem most appropriate in such circumstances. But the very clearness of the outlines and the strength of contrast between one division and another, make the form less fit for works of smaller scope. As long as such a work is laid out on a scale sufficiently large to admit variety of treatment and freedom of movement within the limits of these divisions, there is fair chance of the work having musical value proportionate to the composer's capacity; but if the limits are so narrow as to admit little more than mere statement of the usual form, and no more than the conventional order of modulations, the possibilities of musical sense and sentiment are reduced to a minimum, and a want of positive musical interest commonly results.

Consequently sonatinas form one of the least satisfactory groups of musical products. The composers who have produced the greatest impression with short and concise movements in modern times have uniformly avoided them, and adopted something of a more free and lyrical cast, in which there is a more appropriate kind of unity, and more of freedom and individuality in the general outlines. It might be quite possible to group these small pieces so as to present a very strong analogy to the sonata on a small scale; but it has not been attempted, owing possibly to a feeling that certain limitations of style and character are generally accepted in the musical world as appropriate for works of the sonata class, and that it would be superfluous to violate them.

The sonatina form has, however, proved peculiarly convenient for the making of pieces intended to be used in teaching. The familiar outlines and the systematic distribution of the principal harmonies afford the most favourable opportunities for simple but useful finger passages, for which the great masters have supplied plentiful formulas; and they furnish at the same time excellent means of giving the student a dignified and conscientious style, and a clear insight into the art of phrasing and into the simpler rules of classical form. These works may not have any strong interest of a direct kind for the musical world, but they have considerable value in so far as they fulfil the purposes they are meant to serve. The most famous and most classical examples of this kind are Clementi's Sonatinas, of opp. 36, 37, and 38. And much of the same character are several by F. Kuhlau, which are excellently constructed and pure in style. Of modern works of a similar kind there are examples by L. Koehler. Those by Carl Reinecke and Hermann Goetz are equally adapted for teaching purposes, and have also in general not a little agreeable musical sentiment, and really attractive qualities. Some of Beethoven's works which are not definitely described as such are sufficiently concise and slight to be called sonatinas: as for instance those in G and G minor, op. 49, which were first announced for publication as 'Sonates faciles’ in 1805. That in G major, op. 79, was published as a 'Sonatine' in 1810, though it is rather larger in most respects than the other little examples. 

Prior to Beethoven the average scale of sonatas was so small that it seems difficult to see how a diminutive could be contrived; and indeed the grand examples which made the degrees of comparison specially conspicuous were not yet in existence. A modern work on such a scale, and made in the conventional manner, would probably be considered as a Sonatina, and apart from teaching purposes it would also be likely to be an anachronism. C.H.H.P.

Henry Wood Promenade Concerts 1913 – Novelties.

Soon the 2013 Proms brochure will be out. For me it is always an exciting time of the year. However, it can be fun to look back in time and see what works were given their premieres a century or a half-century ago. It can be a very telling exercise seeing what has survived and what has sunk into oblivion. I will mention on British or Commonwealth works.

Bach (arranged Henry Wood) Toccata in F

Arnold Bax: Two Orchestral Sketches – ‘Pensive Twilight’ and ‘The Dance of Wild Irravel’

Havergal Brian: Comedy Overture – Dr. Merryheart

George Clutsam: (New Zealand): Introduction and Dance from King Harlequin

Eric Coates: Idyll for Orchestra

Thomas Dunhill: Prelude ‘The King’s Threshhold’

Eugene Goossens: Variations on an Old Chinese Theme

Percy Grainger: Irish Tune from County Derry & Shepherd’s Hey

Harry Keyser (Australian): Preludes on Act IV & V of Othello

Mozart (Percy Pitt) Aria for Strings

Henry Purcell: Scene ‘From Rosy Bowers’  Don Quixote

Cyril Scott: Two Poems for Orchestra

Ralph Vaughan Williams: Suite ‘The Wasps’ (Aristophanes)

Looking at the above listings there are three pieces that have successfully survived the passage of time, are available in a number of recordings and are heard in concert halls and on the radio – RVW’s The Wasps and the two works by Percy Grainger.  However a few other pieces have been recorded and are no doubt in the collections of enthusiasts of British music. The Dance of Wild Irravel is available on Chandos 8454. However the Pensive Twilight was revised by the composer and was renamed Evening Piece and is available on EMI 47945. However, as far as I am aware the original Pensive Twilight has not been revived.

Havergal Brian's Dr Merryheart Overture is recorded on Naxos 8572014.  Fortunately Eric Coates Idyll has also been recorded at least once - it is presently found on Lyrita SRCD 213.  Apparently this miniature tone-poem was a great favourite of Sir Edward Elgar. Unfortunately the Two Poems for Orchestra by Cyril Scott do not seem to have been released.  We are lucky to have Eugene Goossens minor masterpiece Variations on a Chinese Theme Op.1. This was released on ABC Classics ABC4767632 and is one of a 3-CD set conducted by ‘Tod’ Handley.  

A surf of YouTube will discover the Purcell and the Bach transcription by Sir Henry Wood. A glance at contemporary reviews suggests that the desideratum in the above list is George Clutsam’s Introduction and Dance from King Harlequin and the Cyril Scott Poems. If I was to suggest just one work to listen to from these ‘novelties’ it would have to be Eugene Goossens Variations on an Old Chinese Theme. Alas, it is not featured on YouTube but is available at Amazon in CD format. Next up will be the ‘novelties’ from fifty years ago -1953. However, I am minded to post a few contemporary reviews for the lesser known works featured above. 

Frederic Curzon: In Malaga -Suite for Orchestra

In these cold, dark January days, the mind turns to warmer climes. I have always loved Malaga in the south of Spain, with its imposing Moorish castle (La Alcazaba), the splendid cathedral, the fine beaches and the delicious eating and drinking venues. And that says nothing about the excellent shops, Picasso’s birth-place and the newly redeveloped harbour area.  

Frederic Curzon (1899-1973) was fascinated by Spain –apart from this present piece he also wrote a Spanish Caprice: ‘Capricante’, a Serenade: ‘La Peineta’ and Bravada: A Paso Doble.  However, it is curious that he never actually visited the country.

The first movement of In Malaga is entitled ‘Spanish Ladies’. This music is quite definitely a tango. However the strong rhythms are offset by a slightly more relaxed feel that may suggest the ‘siesta’ rather than the time of day when ‘mad dogs and Englishmen’ venture out into the ‘mid-day sun.’ I was impressed by the light, subtle scoring of this music. Much use is made of pizzicato and delicate woodwind patterns. However, the movement ends with a bit of  bang.

The second movement of the suite is called ‘Serenade for Eulalie’. ‘Eulalie’ was a poem by Edgar Allan Poe which was first published in 1845 in the American Review: A Whig Journal and tells of a man who overcomes his grief by marrying the striking Eulalie. For enthusiasts of P.G. Wodehouse, the name ‘Eulalie’ will conjure images of Sir Roderick Spode’s one-time business venture as "founder and proprietor of the emporium in Bond Street known as “Eulalie Soeurs", a famed designer of ladies' lingerie. However, I do not think that Curzon had either of these two ‘exemplars’ in mind when he composed this Serenade.  The composer’s step-son has suggested that although the identity of this lady is a secret, he wonders if it was inspired by the ‘delightful personality of his [Fredercik’s] wife-to-be’.  This is a lovely elusive little tune. Opening with a gentle viola solo which then passes to the flute and clarinet for the first theme. The composer then introduces a romantic tune on strings which tends to dominate the proceedings.  The mood if this music is nocturnal, with nods to the Tango.

The final movement is a vigorous Cachucha. Many readers of this blog will know the near perfect example of this dance by Sir Arthur Sullivan in The Gondoliers. However, the original dance was from Andalusia in the south of Spain. It is usually in 3/4 or 3/8 time (Sullivan’s is in the latter) and was danced with castanet accompaniment. Conversely, there is some suggestion that the dance was originally from Cuba. Curzon’s take is impressive with a strong melodic drive, some syncopation and a lot of orchestral colour.

The Suite was dedicated to the former organist at the Shepherd’s Bush Pavilion, Quentin Maclean. As an aside, Maclean’s two Organ Concertos would seem to be worthy objects for investigation. In Malaga was published Hawkes and Son in 1935, although there appears to be no consensus as to when it was actually composed.  Two years later, a piano reduction was issued by the same publisher.

Finally the liner notes of the Marco Polo CD relates a good anecdote about Frederick Curzon and his Spanish Connection. “Donald Curzon recalls that his stepfather's skill at evoking the appropriate national atmosphere elicited a letter from Spain asking if the composer was of Spanish birth or had, at the very least, lived and worked in the country. The enquirer apparently was quite convinced that only a native Spaniard or someone with considerable direct experience of Spain could possibly write such 'authentic' sounding music!”

The entire In Malaga Suite can be heard on YouTube.

I was telling a friend about the arrival of Ronald Stevenson’s Piano Music CDs on my doorstep. What surprised him most that for once in my life I was lost for words. My usual methodology for a review would be to work through the track listings in either batting or chronological order, making comments on each.  However, this is beyond me in this instance. Firstly, I was overwhelmed by the sheer width and depth of the repertoire. Secondly, every piece is brand new to me: I felt that it would take longer to absorb this music than a decent turn around time for a review would normally demand. Thirdly, I felt that if I were to comment or analyse each track I would end up writing an essay the size of a large dissertation.  This brought me back to point one. I am so reliant on the liner notes for historical and contextual information that the reader may as well read them as my review.

However, something demands to be said. What I propose to do is to give a thumbnail sketch of the composer and his music (a hopeless task!), briefly consider the ‘genres’ of piano music presented, and finally pick out two or three groups of works that impressed me most on first or second hearing.

Ronald Stevenson is one of the most important living composers. Alas, he is probably best known for having composed what is regarded as ‘the biggest single-movement work in the piano literature’ the Passacaglia on DSCH, which is some 80 minutes long. (Symphonic Nocturne for Piano Alone by Sorabji is actually longer)  This is unfair. Stevenson has written a huge range of compositions in virtually every genre with the exception of symphony and opera (there is an ‘early Berceuse Symphonique). There are four impressive concertos – two for piano, one for fiddle and one for ‘cello. Stevenson has contributed handsomely to vocal music with many settings of Scottish and English poets including Hugh MacDiarmid, William Soutar, Robert Louis Stevenson and William Blake. Nor has he ignored poets from other cultures- there are setting of the Japanese poet Basho, the Vietnamese Ho-Chi-Min and the American Edgar Allan Poe. Other music includes a number of choral settings an impressive list of choral works and educational music.  One of the largest categories in his catalogue is for piano: there are in excess of 500 pieces/works/movements for that instrument.

Ronald Stevenson is also a great pianist. He is in the trajectory of the grand romantic pianists of the past such as Busoni, Leopold Godowsky, Percy Grainger and Paderewski. Later exponents of this style of playing included John Ogden and Earl Wild.  However it is Busoni and Godowsky that I feel reflects much of the music presented in these three CDs.

I do not wish to develop a debate about the differences between transcription, arrangement and paraphrase, however it needs to be understood that these nouns are applicable to the vast majority of pieces in the collection. Three (loose) definitions may not go amiss. Firstly an arrangement is quite simply an adaptation of a musical work for another instrument or ensemble than it was originally intended. Secondly a transcription, leads on from an arrangement, but usually introduces ‘more or less imaginative changes’ which may (or may not be) taken as conforming to the composer's own procedure, if he had written for the medium. And finally, a Paraphrase is usually seen as being a solo work of ‘great virtuosity’ in which well known melodies were considerably elaborated.  All three practices are presented in this CD. However there can often be a wee bit of blurring round the edges.

A good summary of Stevenson’s place in the musical sphere is given in the liner notes:- ‘If we reject, as too superficial, the standard distinctions between transcription and free composition, one comes close to understanding Stevenson’s outstanding corpus of music. Of course, individual pieces vary enormously both in terms of approach and in terms of style. It is as though Stevenson’s music as a whole becomes a kind of meeting place for kindred and diverse spirits.’ For this reason, I believe that it is not possible to describe what Ronald Stevenson’s music ‘sound like.’

I want to look at two groups of works –the Chopin and the Purcell pieces. However before that I believe that opening track acts as a kind of ‘prelude’ to the entire CD set. This transcription of Bach’s Komm, süsser Tod (Come sweet death) BWV 478 was made in 1991 on the ‘birthday’ of Busoni.  The sleeve notes suggest that this piece is a ‘modest curtain raiser’ – well it may be comparatively modest in terms of the ‘massiveness’ of Stevenson’s music, however for me this rework of the original is both highly romantic and deeply moving. The sentiment of the original has been retained in its entirety, but re-presented in a musical language alien to, but complimentary with, Bach’s intention. It is dedicated to Leopold Stokowski, who gave much encouragement to Stevenson.

A good place to begin a detailed exploration of these CDs would be with the seven ‘Purcell’ numbers. The ‘Little Jazz Variations on Purcell’s ‘New Scotch Tune’’ is a work that has been revised and added to over the years. It is a lovely, moody piece that is more ‘bluesy’ than ‘jazzy’. The preceding Purcell ‘Toccata’ was composed in 1955. In the composer’s opinion it is ‘a very fine transcription which is respectful and newly individual; traditional and exploratory ...musicological ... and inventive – Yes!’ It works well for piano. The ‘Three Grounds (after Purcell)’ date from 1995. Once again these are beautifully contrived pieces that take the original material written for strings and literally recreate them for the piano. These are attractive retrospective tunes that typify Stevenson’s ability to view earlier composers through his own compositional lens.  The ‘Hornpipe’ and ‘The Queen’s Dolour (A Farewell)’ are equally effective: however the former seems further from Purcell’s intention with its hard edged harmonies than the latter, which is heart-achingly lovely.

The first CD contains the ‘complete’ Stevenson/Chopin transcriptions and paraphrases.  The liner notes point out that Leopold Godowsky’s ‘53 Studies Based on Chopin Etudes’ had a huge impact on Stevenson ‘as both a composer and pianist.’  The Pénseés sur des Préludes de Chopin are dark and introverted: each number is preface by a quotation from the French philosopher Pascal. Stevenson picks and chooses bits and pieces of Chopin’s music and combines and recombines them at will.  It is a deep work that seems to transcend the original. I enjoyed, if not quite related to, this adaptation. However, some listeners will rather that Stevenson had not ‘tinkered’ with what most regard as original masterpieces.

The mood is much lighter with the ‘Variations-Study on a Chopin Waltz’, it is a lovely reworking of the original posthumous C sharp minor Waltz making it much more involved and technically complex than the original.  The ‘Etudette d'après Korsakov et Chopin’ is fun with allusions to bumble-bees and etudes: complex but thoroughly enjoyable. The Chopin section continues with a Waltz ‘spectacular’ – ‘Three Contrapuntal Studies on Chopin Waltzes’.  Chopin on vacation in Vienna would be my take. This definitely reinforces Bruno Walter’s view that Strauss waltzes are ‘Champagne from Heaven’! Finally there is a ‘Fugue on a Fragment of Chopin’ – in this case based on the theme from the F minor ‘Ballade’. To quote the liner notes, ‘this is given full textbook fugal treatment, complete with Busonian craftsmanship and erudition via eloquent pianistic layouts and exhaustive permutations of double note figurations.’

Other fine works on this CD set include the delicious ‘L’art du chant appliqué au piano – Volume 1 & 2’ which are transcriptions, re-workings, paraphrases, arrangements (call them what you will) of a number of well-kent tunes such as Frank Bridge’s ‘Go not, Happy day’, Ivor Novello’s ‘We’ll gather lilacs’, and Samuel Coleridge-Taylor’s ‘Demande et Réponse’ (from Petite Suite de Concert Op. 7). Other composers represented in these two volumes include Meyerbeer, Maud Valérie White, Sigmund Romberg and Sergei Rachmaninov. They are invariably a joy and a pleasure to listen to. And then there is the massive Le Festin d’Alkan: Concerto for Solo Piano with its three movements:- Free Composition, Free Transcription and Free Multiple Variations. So much could be said about this work that, in the composer’s words “encapsulate my idea that composition, transcription and variation are all essentially the same thing.

I could have majored on the two Ysaÿe Sonata transcriptions, the ‘Norse Elegy’ or the ‘Canonic Caprice on 'The Bat'’. And then there are the Mozart arrangements…

I was extremely impressed by Murray McLachlan’s playing on these three superb discs.  This complex, usually technically difficult (if not nearly impossible, at times) music demands a huge technique and considerable confidence to play and interpret successfully.  In recent years, I have reviewed McLachlan’s stunning cycle of Erik Chisholm’s piano music, so it came as no surprise that he brought the same commitment, dynamism and sensitivity to the pages of this music. This is a major project representing a cross section of Ronald Stevenson’s music for piano. Yet is serves as a perfect ‘introduction’.  I am not sure whether ‘Divine Art’ mean to issue further releases of the composer’s music, however just glancing at the list of piano music on the Stevenson Society Webpages suggests that there is enormous potential for the future.

The liner notes by Murray McLachlan are excellent, comprehensive and interesting: they do require to be read before addressing this music. – Not because the works need explanation before enjoyment, but simply to put them into context.

This is an important release. I hope that it will act as a spur to other performers and record companies to examine more of this composer’s scores. However, the present 3-CD set will long remain as a monument to the achievement of Ronald Stevenson.

Track Listing:

Ronald STEVENSON (b.1928) Piano Music

Disc 1:
Komm, susser Tod BWV478 (after Bach) (1991) Prelude and Chorale (An Easter Offering) (1978) L'Art nouveau du chant appliqué au piano: Volumes 1 and 2 (1975-1988) Scottish Ballad No.1 ‘Lord Randal’ (1973) Fugue on a Fragment of Chopin (1949) Pénsées sur des Préludes de Chopin (1959) Variations Study on a Chopin Waltz (1950?) Etudette d'après Korsakov et Chopin (1987) Three Contrapuntal Studies on Chopin Waltzes (nd)

Disc 2:
Le Festin d'Alkan (1988-1997) Sonata no. 1 in G minor (after Ysaÿe) (1981-82) Sonata no. 2 (after Ysaÿe) (1981-82) Norse Elegy (1976-79) Canonic Caprice on 'The Bat' (1967)

Disc 3:
Fantasy for mechanical organ (on Mozart's K. 608) (1952) Romanze from Piano Concerto in D minor, K.466 (after Mozart) (2002) Melody on a Ground of Glazunov (1970) Ricordanza di San Romerio (A Pilgrimage for Piano) (1987) Three Grounds (after Purcell) (1995) Toccata (after Purcell) (1955) Little Jazz Variations on Purcell's 'New Scotch Tune' (1964/75) Hornpipe (after Purcell) (1995) The Queen's Dolour (A Farewell) (after Purcell) (1959) Two Music Portraits (1965) Three Elizabethan Pieces after John Bull (1950)

Murray McLachlan (piano)
Divine Art dda21372

A German View of Musical England: Percy Scholes (1917)

I came across this interesting chapter on English Music from a German perspective by a British author written during the First World War. The author is Percy Scholes (1877-1958) who was an English musician, music journalist and writer. He is probably best remembered for his editorship and compilation of the first edition of The Oxford Companion to Music.  Equally useful are his two volume set The Mirror of Music which was a celebration of the centenary of the  Musical Times  At a scholarly level he is recalled for his still-unequalled The Great Doctor Burney. One of his less well known books is Everyman and His Music: Simple Papers on Varied Subjects. The essays in this book were reprinted from Everyman, the Evening Standard and The Music Student.  Alas, I do not know which publication this present essay is derived from. I make no comment on Scholes viewpoint but simply remind the reader as to when the words were written!

Finally I have not glossed every name mentioned in the text –only those composers and musicians who are relatively unknown.

‘How little do Englishmen know about their national music? How little do they realise the position their past entitles them to take up and the airs they are entitled to display in view of the great deeds of their musical ancestors. Sometimes it almost seems as though, like Uriah Heep, they rejoice in being ‘very 'umble.’

‘No original painting, no original music, were cradled in Tudor England.’ That is a sweeping statement, and it is made by one who writes with great authority upon the period in question. I read it a few months ago in a British Academy lecture on ‘Shakespeare and the Italian Renaissance,’ [1] and have spent the time since in gathering courage to oppose its author. The statement is but one more example of our most unbecoming national humility in musical matters. Its author is our great Shakespeare expert; the standard work on Shakespeare is his, and its recent new edition has placed him, if possible, still higher in the estimation of every student of English literature. The lightest word he may utter about Shakespeare or the England of Shakespeare's days is likely to reverberate for a long time in the pages of those lesser authors who make their books out of the writings of the greater ones. It becomes a duty, therefore, if one has evidence against any one of his statements to put it forth. This is a time when we are all feeling so very patriotic that anything we may say in favour of our own country is probably subject to some discount. Already, in a previous chapter in this volume, I have briefly alluded to the doings of English composers during the Tudor period. This time I will leave my own views largely on one side and quote from a German writer, Professor Johannes Wolf, of Berlin. For the most part he refers to the very period mentioned: ‘We know the praise of Erasmus, who said that the English challenged the prerogative of being the most accomplished in music of any people’.

More than thirty years before Buus, Willaert, and Bendusi,[3] who began the evolution of Italian clavier music at Venice, England had an excellent composer for the virginals in Hughe Ashton [4] Already, about 1510, his compositions show that element highly developed which demands our peculiar consideration in the English virginal music; the variation, especially of songs and dances. The researches of historians have established the great influence that this technique of the English virginalists produced on the art of the Continent, at first on the music of the Netherlands. Dr. John Bull (1563-1628) and Peter Philips (1560-1625), two excellent masters, were those who interposed; Jan Pieter Sweelinck (1562-1621) was their docile disciple, and his school was of the greatest importance for Northern Germany through his pupils Scheldt, Scheidemann, Praetorius, Schildt and Siefert. ‘This English virginal music seems to be original; the works of [William] Byrd (1593-1623), [John] Bull, Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625), [Thomas] Morley (1557-1602), [Giles] Farneby (1565-1640), and later of [Henry] Purcell (1659-1695), are worthy of our greatest attention. In these small musical pictures we are surprised at the richness of fancy, the delicacy of the ornaments, the character of the melodic line, and often the audacity of the harmony. Just in harmonic relation, we cannot but admire the art of Dr. Bull, especially in his first hexachord fancy, which may be compared with Bach's grand art in the Well-tempered Clavier. In general, here we find the fundaments of clavier-technique.’

Professor Wolf is quite right in his last statement, quoted above. It would be literally true to say that Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, and Chopin built upon an English foundation. When he comes to the English choral music of the end of the Tudor period Professor Wolf is just as ungrudging, and, as a matter of fact, he has every musical historian of importance at his back in every assertion he makes. ‘The great period of English instrumental practice was also the golden age of vocal music. Let us only touch the characteristic forms. It is true that the madrigal is not an original fruit of the tree of English art, and has not enjoyed a long life in the British Isles, and yet the specimens of [Thomas] Morley, [John] Dowland (1563-1626), [Thomas] Weelkes (1575-1623), [John] Bennett [16th-17th century], [Orlando] Gibbons belong to the best that has been ever created in this form, and are, after a life of three hundred years, as fresh as in their first days. There is, for instance, not any madrigal better known than the ‘Fire! Fire!’ of Thomas Morley. A great part of these songs have become the property of the German choirs. ‘The madrigal is not an original fruit of the tree of English art,’ says the professor. This is true enough, and the same words might be used of the sonnet. In each case England took a form of art from Italy, but quickly breathed into it the national spirit, and made it a means of English artistic expression.

I had meant to quote also from eminent Belgian and Danish writers, but there is no space, without lengthening this chapter unduly, to do more than give the German professor's forecast of our musical future.  ‘We hear in these days the musical emanations of many periods of English history, and we are ravished. A nation that is so rich in beautiful music, and has advanced the evolution of music in the way the English have done belongs to the elect. It is true that in the last two centuries other nations have had the leading position, but once, and perhaps soon, the call will sound again: ‘English musicians to the front! We know the English love of music, we know their work in the past and in the present, and with full conviction and joy we join in the poet's words: Blessed England, full of melody.’ So much for a German view of musical England.’

Percy Alfred Scholes: Everyman and His Music: Simple Papers on Varied Subjects The Music Lover's Library (1917) [with minor edits]

Notes:-

[1]  Sir Sidney Lee Shakespeare and the Italian Renaissance Sir Sidney Lee, D.Litt. Fellow of the Academy The Annual Shakespeare Lecture, 1915 p7

[2] Professor Johannes Wolf (1869-1947) was a German musicologist. He studies at Berlin and Leipzig Universities. He subsequently became professor at Berlin. In 1915 he was working at the Prussian State Library and was latterly director of the music collections.

[3] Jacques Buus (c1500-1565), Adriano Willaert (1480-1562) and Francesco Bendusi (b.Sienna –c.1553)

[4] Hughe Ashton (Hugh Aston) (c. 1485-1558) was an English composer of the early Tudor period. While little of his music survives, he is notable for his innovative keyboard and church music writing. (Wikipedia)

Maurice Green Amoretti on Naxos

I concede that Maurice Greene is off my beaten track. Like many people I have long-known the anthem ‘Lord let me know my end,’ having heard it performed many times ‘in choirs and places where they sing.’ A few other bits and pieces have crossed my path over the years including a number ‘lessons’ for organ and harpsichord. Yet, for a composer who is often regarded as being one of Handel’s ‘most naturally gifted contemporaries’ I feel that we have hardly been introduced.  A few words on his life and achievements may of interest to those who, like me, are a little rusty on his details.

Maurice Greene was born circa 1695, is believed to have inherited money, married well and been on terms of intimacy with the great and good of his day.  As a young man he was a chorister at St Paul’s Cathedral under the great Jeremiah Clark (1674-1707) and the less well known Charles King (1687-1748). He studied organ with Richard Brind (d.1718) during which time he was organist at St Dunstan’s in the West and later St Andrew’s, Holborn.  After Brind’s death Greene became the organist at St Pauls.  In 1727 he succeeded William Croft as organist and composer to the Chapel Royal. Three years later, he accepted a professorship of music at Cambridge University.  In 1735 Greene was appointed Master of the King’s Musick.’ One of his great achievements was the collection of an important corpus of old English sacred music. Greene was friends with Handel, although there was later a ‘rift in the lute’ between the two men because of Greene’s friendship with Handel’s great rival Giovanni Battista Buononcini (1670-1747) the Italian composer and cellist.  

Maurice Greene was a prolific composer who wrote in a number of genres, including opera, liturgical, instrumental and vocal music.  His organ voluntaries and harpsichord ‘lessons’ are fun to play, although they have been accused of having ‘considerable vigour if little originality.’  One of the Greene’s most important works was his setting of Alexander Pope’s Ode for St Cecilia. The poet, who was also a good friend, is reputed to have emended his text to suit the composer’s requirements.   However, Greene had a propensity to write ‘verse anthems’ which rely on solo voices rather than chorus and this is believed to have led to the relatively rare performance of his liturgical music.  Maurice Greene died in London on 1 December 1755.

In 1738, Greene wrote a setting of 25 of Spenser’s Amoretti: they were selected from a collection of 89 poems. Edmund Spenser had produced this massive sonnet cycle in the late 16^th century. They were written as a description of the poet’s courtship with Elizabeth Boyle, who was later to become his wife. The poetic principle of the sequence was an attempt at ‘immortalizing the name of his bride to be...by devices of word play.’  He gave the name of Amoretti (Little Loves) to this cycle. His ‘heroine ‘is the ‘sweet warrior’ (Sonnet 57) which Greene does not set. There is no doubt that from a literary point of view Spenser has relied heavily on his contemporaries such as the Italian author Tasso and the French poet Ronsard.  However, the ultimate inspiration is Petrarch.  The sonnet sequence is presented as a biographical adventure; however, it is fair to say that the true facts of the courtship have not been allowed to get in the way of literary convention and the telling of a good tale.

Maurice Greene has largely followed the sequence as written by Spenser: however the opening number of the song-cycle is actually the 80 on the collection of sonnets. 

Mathew Gardner in his excellent liner notes sums up the composer’s achievement: ‘The careful choice of sonnets and the [musical] reactions to the texts which Greene displays, makes this collection a treasure…’

Benjamin Hulett sings these songs with an engagement that certainly adds value to the literary subtlety of the text. The sonnets could be regarded as a little ‘dense’ to the modern ear, however he has succeeded in presenting the Elizabethan words in an attractive and engaging manner. A reviewer quoted on the singer’s webpage has suggested that Hulett has ‘truly immersed [himself] in the persona of the male suitor’ in his interpretation of the varying moods. No better can be demanded for a performance of these richly demanding sonnets.  The other two soloists must not be forgotten. Luke Green plays the important harpsichord accompaniment and Giangiacomo Pinardi provides the accompaniment on the theorbo. Just in case the reader has forgotten, this is a large bass lute-like instrument with a large number of strings (11-17). A solo repertoire does exist for this instrument, however, it is largely used to accompany singers.

Maurice Greene’s songs are usually regarded as being ‘less trivial’ than a number of his contemporaries.  Certainly, these Amoretti display a subtle interpretation of the literary sensibility that demands our attention. Although Thomas Arne and Handel may not be too far away in these sonnets, Greene displays a captivating independent spirit that both moves and entertains. Finally, Amoretti can be regarded as being the first English song cycle. As such, it sets an impressive benchmark that subsequent composers have often failed to better. 

Track Listing:

Maurice GREENE (1696-1755)

25 sonnet settings taken from Spenser’s Amoretti (1739)

Benjamin Hulett (tenor) Luke Green (harpsichord) Giangiacomo Pinardi (theorbo)

NAXOS 8.572891

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

Ronald Binge: Scottish Rhapsody

I recently happened to hear Ronald Binge’s fine evocation of Scotland. Not perhaps as Alec Salmond MSP would see it: more as the English Tourist Board under the auspices of Sir Walter Scott... The liner notes by the doyen of British Light Music, Ernest Tomlinson give the full story:-  The mist enshrouded lochs, the calm of the glens, the skirl of the pipes and the swirl of the kilt as the highland fling dances on its with merry way.

This is a musical Scotland that can happily sit alongside those works ‘furth o’ the border’ such as the Tam O’ Shanter Overture and the Scottish Dances by Malcolm Arnold, the Scottish Fantasy by Bruch, Moscheles Anticipations of Scotland and even Mendelssohn’s Hebridean Overture.

However, as a Scotsman myself, I can say that this is a fine musical picture of a great nation. I concede that Binge may be accused of creating a mythological and possibly stereotyped description of the Scottish landscape and people. However this ought to be no more a problem than Edward German’s Welsh Rhapsody is to the Welsh, Stanford’s Irish Rhapsodies are to the Irish or Greensleeves (as realised by RVW) is to the English.

The compositional history suggests that Ronald Binge raided his memory for appropriate Scottish tunes –and when he could not find one to suit he invented something which is more Scottish than the real thing!  Tunes that the listener will ‘ken’ include ‘Kelvin Grove’, ‘Fairy Dance Reel’ and ‘Where has my hi'lan' laddie gone?’ 

The work was originally written for Mantovani who included it in many concert pefromances in Europe and America.

There is a live performance of this work produced by students of the Barton College Department of Communication and Performing Arts. There is also a recording by Mantovani.

The full work is given its definitive performance on Marco Polo 8.223515 with the Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ernest Tomlinson. A shortened version is presented on the British Light Music Heritage 2-CD set on ASV CDWLZ245

The First Holbrooke-Hammond Concert 28 September 1946: The Second Half

A few days ago I posted about a concert programme I had found in a second hand bookshop. I gave an overview of the first half of that performance.  Arthur Hammond conducted the London Symphony Orchestra and the soprano soloist was Mary Cherry. The raison-d’être of the concert was the promotion of the music of Josef Holbrooke (1878-1958)

The second half opened with Siegfried’s Journey to the Rhine from Richard Wagner’s Gotterdammerung. It was a concert version of the music used at the parting of Siegfried and Brunnhilde and the music that covers the scene change at the beginning of the opera. This was followed by the aria ‘Einsam in Truben Tagen’ from Wagner’s Lohengrin.

The Holbrooke theme was to dominate the remainder of the concert with the performance of three works – the Overture: Amontillado, the Elegy for Strings: Caradoc’s Dream and finally the tone poem The Viking.

Once again Edgar Alan Poe was the inspiration for the dramatic overture. This work was based on story ‘A Cask of Amontillado’ however the composer did not attempt a detailed portrayal of the incidents in the story.  What he has done is to describe the mood and the general character of the story rather than ‘an account of the relentless pursuit of the victim during the Carnival, the visit to the endless vaults where the cask of Amontillado, the lure, is said to be kept.’  I will not tell the rest of the tale, lest readers of this blog have not read it.

The programme notes give a brief description of the music – ‘It is interesting to note that in this, one of [Holbrooke’s] latest works, unlike the symphonic poems where the organic nature of the themes seems frequently to condition the pattern of the music, the composer has enjoyed the traditional overture form with, however a very dramatic coda...’ Amontillado was heard at this concert for the first time.  At present time there is only one recording of this work available – CPO 777442-2. I listened to this work before writing this post: it was my first hearing. I was impressed with every bar and once again feel that if this music had been composed by a German or Russian it would be ‘essential listening.’

The next work is not currently available on CD or MP3. The Elegy for Strings: Caradoc’s Dream (c.1920) is derived from the cycle of Holbrooke’s Wagnerian style operas – The Children of Don, Dylan Son of the Wave and Bronwen. The plots of these music dramas are complex – however suffice to say that the elegy is founded on a selection of themes from the Trilogy – but mainly from Bronwen. The predominant theme is the ‘beautiful ‘Bronwen’ motif and that of her parting from Caradoc, the heroic British chieftain, when she – vainly as it turn out – leaves him to wed the High King of Ireland and save her country from war.  ‘Though it be ice upon my heart to speak it fare you well,’ she says. So the lovers part and when they next meet it is for Bronwen to die in his arms, overwhelmed and broken hearted at all she has endured.’  It sounds absolutely fantastic stuff. Both operatic ‘Trilogy’ and Elegy ‘sound’ as if they ought to be revived.

The final work in this concert is The Viking (1901 rev.1912). It is based on Longfellow’s ballad ‘The Skeleton in Armour.’  In essence the said skeleton appears to the narrator and demands that he record his tale. I will not plot-spoil what is a dramatic story based on a true archaeological ‘find’ –but suffice to say the Viking loved the daughter of a great sea-king: naturally there is a tragic ending.

The programme notes suggest that Holbrooke’s music is ‘full of the exhilaration and flashing colour of the poem.’  Ernest Newman, the music critic, has written about Holbrooke’s The Viking that ‘the boy who could...bring the heart into one’s throat at passage after passage of ‘The Skeleton in Armour’ ...has surely added something to the world’s store of great and lovely things’.

The first performance of this work was given by Sir Granville Bantock at Liverpool and then Antwerp. The work is available on CPO 777442-2: there is an upload to YouTube.

Finally, the programme gave intimation of a subsequent concert to be held on Monday November 4 1946 at 7pm. Non-Holbrookian works included Weber’s Overture: Preciosa, Donizetti’s overtue to Linda de Chamounix, Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony and George Lloyd’s Entr’acte & Norman March from his second opera The Serf. Holbrooke was represented by his Piano Concerto No.1 (The Song of Gwyn-ap-Nudd), his tone poem Queen Mab and as ‘new’ prelude from the opera Dylan. A formidable concert indeed. Alas I do not have the programme notes for this one!

No. 2 of Two Biographies of Maurice Greene:

The second biography of Dr. Maurice Greene is taken from the second edition of Grove (edited by J. A. Fuller-Maitland and published in 1916). It was written by the great scholar William Henry Haddow, so in spite of the dated nature of the essay and the somewhat long and complex sentences, it is still a good account of the composer’s life. For any scholarly purposes I would naturally refer the reader to the current Grove which is available online (subscription required) or in many libraries.  I present this without any notes.

GREENE, Maurice, Mus.Doc, one of the two younger sons of the Rev. Thomas Greene, D.D., vicar of the united parishes of St. Olave, Old Jewry, and St. Martin, Ironmonger Lane (or Pomary), and grandson of John Greene, Recorder of London, was born in London about 1695 or 1696. He received his early musical education as a chorister of St. Paul's Cathedral, under Charles King. On the breaking of his voice in 1710 he was articled to Richard Brind, then organist of the cathedral. He soon distinguished himself both at the organ and in composition. In 1716 he obtained (it was said chiefly through the interest of his uncle, Serjeant Greene) the appointment of organist to St. Dunstan's in the West, Fleet Street, and, on the retirement of Daniel Purcell, in 1717, was chosen organist of St. Andrew's, Holborn. He held both those places until the following year, when, on the death of Brind, he became organist of St. Paul's, and in 1727, on the death of Dr. Croft, organist and composer to the Chapel Royal. Greene had a strong admiration for the genius of Handel, and assiduously courted his friendship; and by admitting him to perform on the organ at St. Paul's, for which instrument Handel had an especial liking, had become very intimate with him. Handel, however, discovering that Greene was paying the like court to his rival, Buononcini, cooled in his regard for him, and soon ceased to have any association with him. 

In 1728, by the artifice of Buononcini, Greene was made the instrument of introducing to the Academy of Ancient Music a madrigal ('In una siepe ombrosa') as a composition of Buononcini's. This madrigal was, three or four years later, proved to have been composed by Lotti. The discovery of the fraud led to the expulsion of Buononcini from the Academy, and Greene, believing, or affecting to believe, that his friend had been unjustly treated, withdrew from it, carrying off with him the St. Paul's boys, and, in conjunction with another friend, Festing, established a rival concert in the great room called 'The Apollo' at the Devil Tavern near Temple Bar; a proceeding which gave rise to the joke, attributed to Handel, that Doctor Greene had gone to the devil.' In 1730, on the death of Dr. Tudway, Greene was elected Professor of Music in the University of Cambridge, with the degree of Doctor of Music. As his exercise on the occasion he set Pope's Ode on St. Cecilia's Day, altered and abbreviated, and with a new stanza introduced, expressly for the occasion, by the poet himself. This composition was performed at Cambridge at the Commencement on Monday, July 6, 1730. 

In 1735, on the death of John Eccles, Dr. Greene was appointed his successor as Master of the King's band of music, in which capacity he produced many odes for the king's birthday and New Year's Day. In 1743 he published his ‘Forty Select Anthems’, the work on which his reputation mainly rests. These compositions, it has been remarked, 'place him at the head of the list of English ecclesiastical composers, for they combine the science and vigour of our earlier writers with the melody of the best German and Italian masters who flourished in the first half of the 18th century'. In 1750 Greene received a considerable accession of fortune by the death of a cousin, a natural son of his uncle, Serjeant Greene, who bequeathed him an estate in Essex worth £700 a year. Being thus raised to affluence he commenced the execution of a long-meditated project, the formation and publication in score of a collection of the best English cathedral music. By the year 1755 he had amassed a considerable number of services and anthems, which he had reduced into score and collated, when his failing health led him to bequeath by will his materials to his friend Dr. Boyce, with a request that he would complete the work. Dr. Greene died on December 1, 1755, 1 leaving an only daughter Katherine, who was married to Dr. Michael Festing, Vicar of Wyke Regis, Dorset, the son of her father's friend the violinist. Greene was buried at St. Olave's, Jewry, and on May 18, 1888, his remains were removed to St. Paul's Cathedral and placed beside those of Boyce. A portrait of Dr. Greene was in the possession of Henry Festing, Esq., of Bois Hall, Addlestone, Surrey, in May 1895.

In addition to the before-named compositions, Greene produced a Te Deum in D major, with orchestral accompaniments, composed, it is conjectured, for the thanksgiving for the suppression of the Scottish rebellion in 1745; a service in C, composed 1737 (printed in Arnold's Cathedral Music); numerous anthems—some printed and others still in MS.; 'Jephthah’, oratorio, 1737; 'The Force of Truth,' oratorio, 1744; a paraphrase of part of the Song of Deborah and Barak, 1732; Addison's ode,' The spacious firmament' Florimel; or, Love's Revenge, 'dramatic pastoral, 1737; 'The Judgment of Hercules, 'masque, 1740; 'Phoebe,' pastoral opera, 1748; 'The Chaplet,' a collection of twelve English songs; ' Spenser's Amoretti,' a collection of twenty-five sonnets (1739); two books each containing 'A Cantata and four English songs' 'Catches and Canons for three or four voices, with a collection of Songs for two and three voices'; organ voluntaries, and several sets of harpsichord lessons. It must not be forgotten that Greene was one of the founders of that most valuable institution 'The Society of Musicians.'

William Henry Haddow

The First Holbrooke Hammond Concert 28 September 1946: The First Half

I found a programme in a London second-hand bookshop the other day.  It was for the first concert in the Holbrooke-Hammond Concert series given on Saturday September 28 1946.  The venue was the Kingsway Hall in London. The evenings soloists was the soprano Mary Cherry, and the orchestra was the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Arthur Hammond. The original cost of the programme was ‘SIXPENCE’: I paid £2. However, as a document it is fascinating.

It is well known that Josef Holbrooke (1878-1958) was a big promoter of is own music. Therefore, it is hardly surprising to find four works presented at this concert.  However, the evening opened with a performance of Cherubini’s Overture: Medea. This work, which was first heard in Paris in 1797, is often regarded as being one of the composer greatest successes. A powerful work manages to sit astride the world of romantic and classical music. The programme notes suggest that the fury and the grandeur of the story find perfect poise. No matter how intense the emotion on stage ‘the walls of classic from hold still.’  Structurally the opera is unusual for the composer did not derive his material from tunes in the opera itself, but created an ‘independent’ study ‘splendidly preparing the listener for the tragic story that was to follow.  This overture can heard on YouTube.

The next work was Josef Holbrooke’s Ulalume (Orchestral Poem No.3 Op.35). This work was first played by Sir Henry Wood in 1905. The works ‘reflects the dreamland atmosphere of Poe’s fantastic vision – the misty dim region of Weir [1], where through ‘an alley titanic’ the hero wanders ‘with Psyche his soul’ until ‘the star-dials pointing to the morn’ he sees afar a nebulous light that becomes the flaming crescent of the goddess Astarte [2]. The hero has a few brief moments of ‘exaltation and hope’ but then is led to the tomb where he recalls that he had buried all that life held dear.’

I believe that if this work had been composed by Richard Strauss, it would be well established in the repertoire. As it is there two recordings of this tone poem currently available – on CPO 777442-2 and Marco Polo 223446. Holbrooke’s Ulalume can be listened to on YouTube Part One & Part 2.

The first half of the programme concluded with Gluck’s O Malheuresue Iphigenie’ from his opera Iphigenie en Tauride and with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s great Symphony No.41 in C ‘Jupiter.’

In subsequent posts I will conclude the description of this concert and will examine Ulalume in more detail.

Notes

[1] The region of Weir is likely to refer the type of landscape created by the Hudson River School artist Robert Walter Weir.

[2] Astarte was the Phoenician goddess of fertility and of sexual love.

No. 1 of Two Biographies of Maurice Greene:

I was asked by a correspondent for a few more details about Maurice Green. Strangely, there does not appear to be a standard biography of the composer, however his name does crop up in a wide variety of musical history books. I have chosen the short portrait in Ernest Walkers once ubiquitous A History of Music in England, first published in 1907 and subsequently revised in 1923 and 1952. Another biographical essay will follow in a later post. I have presented the text without notes. However, for an extensive modern portrait, I suggest the reader peruse Roger Slade's blog. 

‘Maurice Greene, the other great anthem-writer [William Croft] of the period, was seventeen years Croft's junior, being born in 1695. In his boyhood, a chorister of St. Paul's Cathedral, he was at the age of twenty-two elected its organist; and he subsequently combined this position, after the pluralist fashion of the times, with those of organist and composer to the Chapel Royal (in succession to Croft), University Professor of Music at Cambridge, and 'Master of the King's Musick.’

In 1750 he inherited from a cousin a country estate in Essex, and, though still holding all his former offices, spent, it would appear, most of his time in collecting material for the publication in score of a representative selection of English church music a project that was interrupted by his death in 1755, but was subsequently carried out by his pupil Boyce, to whom the task was bequeathed.

In the earlier part of his life he was an intimate friend of Handel, who used frequently to play the organ at St. Paul's; but he [Greene] declined to take sides in the operatic rivalry between Handel and Bononcini until the irascibility of the former threw him, apparently against his will, into the ranks of the latter's vehement partisans. Greene's chief publication was issued in 1743, and was entitled Forty Select Anthems; but he also brought out various other music, both vocal and instrumental. Very much of his work remains, however, still in manuscript; there are numerous odes for various festal occasions, an oratorio on the subject of Jephtha, dramatic compositions, &c., &c.

Handel and Dr. Maurice Greene: A Rare Anecdote

I have recently been reviewing a fine CD of Dr. Maurice Greene’s (c.1695 -1755) Amoretti for tenor and continuo: it will appear on MusicWeb International and in this ‘blog’ in due course. Meanwhile I have found this short anecdote about Handel and Greene.  The reader has to bear in mind two things. Firstly, that Greene was so impressed by Handel’s ability as an organist that he offered to be his organ-blower at St Pauls’ Cathedral – a job that required considerable effort and stamina.  Charles Burney (1726-1814) wrote, “From Greene’s great admiration of Handel’s manner of playing, he had literally condescended to become his bellows-blower, when he [Handel] went to St. Paul’s to play on the organ…. Handel, after the three o’clock prayers, used frequently to get himself and young Greene locked up in the church together, and in summer often stript unto his shirt, and played till eight or nine o’clock at night.” [Hat tip to Roger Slade for this quote]

Secondly, at the time of this anecdote, Handel and Greene were friends; however, there was to be a ‘rift in the lute’ between the two men because of the latter's friendship with Handel’s great rival Giovanni Battista Buononcini (1670-1747) the Italian composer and cellist. 

The author was a little harsh on Greene’s compositional skill, however his anthems have never truly caught on due to his preference for ‘verse –anthems’ utilising a number of soloists rather than full choir. The one major exception is ‘Lord, Let me know my End’

Busby's Anecdote:-

‘Dr. Maurice Greene, whose compositions, whether for church or the chamber, were never remarkably mellifluous, having solicited Handel’s perusal and opinion of a solo anthem which he had just finished, was invited by the great German to take his coffee with him the next morning, when he would say what he thought of it. The Doctor was punctual in his attendance, the coffee was served, and a variety of topics discussed; but not a word said by Handel concerning the composition. At length, Greene, whose patience was exhausted, said, with eagerness, and an anxiety, which he could no longer conceal, “Well, Sir, but my anthem – what do you think?” “Oh, your antum – ah – why I did tink it vanted air, Dr Greene.” “Air, sir?” “Yes, air; and so I did hang it out of de window.”

The yarn, which was recalled by Dr. Busby, may well be apocryphal: certainly, Handel’s accented speech is probably exaggerated. However, the reader needs to realise that the burden of the story is based around the contemporary importance that was attached to ‘air’ or as we would now call it tune or melody.

David Jennings: Piano Music on Divine Art

When I first received this CD I dreaded that is might be another example of music inspired (if that is the word) by the Italian composer Ludovico Einaudi. In spite of his popularity, he is a composer that leaves me utterly cold. To parody Stravinsky’s comment on Vivaldi, he appears to have written the same piano piece at least three score times. The New-Age blend or fusion of minimalism and pop is something that I cannot come to terms with.  However, I was wrong. David Jennings is a composer who is beholden to no-one (in spite of a number of trajectories in his musical language). It is serious, well-structured music that I can do business with. And, more to the point, many of these pieces are not only impressive, but are interesting, satisfying and often moving. No listener (or composer) could wish for more.

This present CD represents David Jennings complete ‘musical offering’ for piano – so far. The earliest work is the impressive Piano Sonata, Op.1 which was written back in the 1980s. The most recent pieces are virtually ‘hot off the press’ having been composed in 2009/10.

The composer’s website gives a brief biography, however three things can be said that will help the potential listener approach this music. Firstly, David Jennings is a Yorkshireman, having been born in Sheffield in 1972. Nevertheless, he has crossed the Pennines on a number of occasions including study at Manchester University with John Casken and his membership of the Lakeland Composer’s group.

Secondly, Jennings has had a wide range of musical and non-musical influences. He has a great interest in art, especially the 19^th century English water-colourists – which he feels are ‘an inspiring marriage of technique and expression’. It is a quality that he exhibits in his music. The composer is stimulated by the North Country landscape, particularly Yorkshire (naturally) and Northumberland. From a musical perspective, I mentioned ‘trajectories.’ These include Fred. Delius, Kenneth Leighton, Gershwin and Frank Bridge. In the Sonata I felt that the ghost of Sorabji was haunting some of the music.

The first piece I listened to came as a wee bit if a revelation. I noted above that I feared music by an Einaudi groupie. Nothing could be further from this with the Prelude & Fugue, Op.6. The Prelude uses twelve-tone procedures ‘throughout’. This section of the work was composed in 1992 ‘as a response to newer musical influences encountered at university.’ The Fugue had to wait a number of years before being written, with the complete work being issued in 2010.  The Prelude is written in a lyrical form of serialism that also hints at jazz. Whereas the Fugue is a tightly knit piece that is austere and musically sarcastic. To my ear the fugue subject metaphorically ‘sticks out its tongue.’

Next, I decided to listen to the Three Sonatinas, Op.2.  These miniatures were composed in the late nineteen-eighties, when the composer was still in his teens, although they have been subject to a little ‘mature’ revision. David Jennings suggests that they belong to the tradition of Robert Schumann’s Kinderszenen. However, like the German master they are a considered balance of innocence and subtlety. Nowhere is there any suggestion that they are children’s pieces. These are urbane, nostalgic pieces that never become mawkish. Technically, they appear to be demanding and are always musically satisfying.  Finally, David Jennings has wisely chosen to cast this set as ‘sonatinas’ rather than ‘character pieces’: they deserve to be listened to as a ‘cycle’ and in the order presented on this dis. For the record, my favourite ‘piece’ is the beautifully written Nocturne from Sonatina No.2.

The longest work on this CD is the Piano Sonata, Op.1 which was composed around 1988 when the composer was ‘nobbut a lad’! However, it is a magnificently impressive work for an Opus 1, in spite of a little tinkering in 1995.  This is a big work in all senses of the word – lasting over twenty minutes, the music fills out a grand canvas with its musical invention.  I was reminded of Sorabji in this work. Not so much in the sound of the piece but in the ethos.  The Sonata exhibits a certain waywardness in the working out of themes – they seem to me to be derived by a sort of continuous development rather than straightforward eight bar themes. Much of musical background is complex: impressionistic colouring is used. There is considerable ornamentation featured in these pages. The music sounds difficult to play. The harmonies, although largely post-romantic in their effect are wilful. And finally there is a mystical quality to much of this music that could be derived from a sense of landscape. Some of these attributes often feature in Sorabji’s massive musical canvasses.

The opening Ballade is ‘deceptively serene’ but soon becomes somewhat more aggressive in its tone. The jazz-coloured Scherzo is as dry as bone – but infinitely varied and intricate as it explores a variety of time signatures.  The third movement, a romance’ is deeply felt. This is introspective music that explores considerable depths. Jennings well-describes this as consolatory music and he is correct. There is a little relief in the ‘trio’ section; however the dominant mood is restored towards the conclusion. Finally, the ‘Finale’ is cast as a rondo. This is a noisy, splashy piece, which explores a number of moods including jazz. There are a couple of episodes that present a mood of calm, but the prevailing exuberance wins the day.

I loved this Sonata. It is surely one of the best examples to have come from the pen of a British composer for many years.

The Miniature Suite, Op.18 is a wonderful piece of Bach parody. The composer’s aim has been to recreate ‘aspects of Baroque style in an updated form.’ The opening ‘Prelude’ is a little ‘toccata’, which nods to a well-known J.S.B. war-horse. Amusingly, the liner notes suggest that the composer was inspired to write the ‘Air’ after watching a ‘remarkably lazy cat going in and out of slumber.’ The third movement is a little ‘Invention’ that has some un-Bachian twists and turns. This is followed by a gorgeous ‘Romance’ which was inspired by a walk along the equally lovely Lancaster Canal: it is the most substantial movement. The Suite concludes with a well-contrived fugue, which brings this ‘modern’ piece to a rollicking conclusion. Jennings does seem to be rather good at writing fugues – which is a breath of fresh air in this post, post modernist age in which we live.

The final work is the important and impressive Harvest Moon Suite, Op.19. This six movement work was inspired by six nineteenth century watercolours. However, it is not a North Country Pictures at an Exhibition: Mussorgsky’s music was largely dramatic, whereas Jennings has opted for a romantic, lyrical and often reflective mood. It is here that I am reminded of York Bowen, although the composer assures me that he had only heard a handful of pieces by this composer before he set to work on the score. I believe that it is the subtle balance between bitter and sweet and romantic that suggests this similarity. The musical pictures include Aira Force, The Haunted Abbey and Harlech Castle.  It is a very lovely work.

This is a beautifully produced CD in every manner. The sound quality is outstanding, with every nuance of the music being clear. The programme is considerable in both scale and concept: the ‘complete piano work lasting over 78 minutes. The interpretation of these pieces by James Willshire is everything that could be wished for.  I loved the painting by Edward Richardson of ‘A Castle in Yorkshire’ – although it is not too close to the composer’s native heath. In fact, it is Barden Tower in Wharfedale. This was a place beloved by Frederick Delius and has latterly become one of Jennings haunts too.  The liner notes by David Jennings are well judged and helpful.

This is a CD of piano music that is inspiring and challenging. I have noted one or two musical signposts in the course of this review. However, I do want to point out that David Jennings has discovered his own voice. It is, as Jomar de Vrind has noted, a successful balance between not being ‘ridiculously reactionary and horrendously modern’. One can but hope that there are much more inspired piano works to emerge over the coming years. In addition, I would love to hear some of works in other genres, such as the Lincoln Imp for Orchestra, the Oboe Sonata and the String Quartet.

Finally have a look at David Jennings' excellent  Web Site .

Track Listing:

David JENNINGS (b.1972)

Piano Sonata, Op.1 (1988/95)

Sonatina No.1 Op.2 No.1 (1980’s)

Sonatina No.2 Op.2 No.2 (1980’s)

Sonatina No.3 Op.2 No.3 (1980’s)

Prelude and Fugue Op.6 (1992/99)

Three Lyrical Pieces, Op.17 (2010) Miniature Suite, Op.18 (2010)  

‘Harvest Moon’ Suite, Op.19 (2009-10)

James Willshire (piano)

DIVINE ART dda25110

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review first appeared.