Richard Hickox brought these two neglected works into the record catalogue to criticla acclaim. In an Editor's Choice review in 1996 - the year of its release - Gramophone stated: ''Elgar completed The Black Knight in 1893 and it provided him with his first big success. The text tells of a sinister, unnamed ''Prince of mighty sway'', whose appearance at the King's court during the feast of Pentecost has disastrous consequences. Elgar's score boasts much attractive invention, some of it strikingly eloquent and prescient of greater offerings to come. The choral writing is always effective, the orchestration already vivid and assured. Richard Hickox's performance has great bloom and spaciousness. Similarly, in the tuneful, vernally fresh Scenes from the Bavarian Highlands, Hickox and his colleagues respond with comendable spirit and pleasing polish. Typical of Chandos, the recording is bright and clear, tonally beyond reproach and with just the right balance between choir and orchestra.''

"Hickox's superior Elgarian credentials are immediately established in the glorious orchestral "Meditation", where his conducting demonstrates a noble flexibility, sensitivity to dynamic nuance and feeling for climax that are wholly beguiling. Equally, the Chandos production team see to it that the familiar Elgarian 'glow'-.-a component largely missing from Sir Charles Groves's rival Liverpool recording—is in generous supply; indeed, the engineering, sumptuous yet nicely detailed, comes close to the ideal. The LSO respond for their Associate Conductor with playing that is both warm-hearted and alert; as ever, the London Symphony Chorus contribute to proceedings in exemplary, splendidly disciplined fashion..."

- Gramophone, (From the original 1993 release.)

This re-release of The Light of Life by Sir Edward Elgar forms part of the new Hickox Legacy commemorative series on Chandos Records, leading up to (and continuing beyond) the fifth anniversary, in Nov 2013, of the conductor’s untimely death.

The Light of Life, an oratorio for soprano, contralto, tenor, and baritone soloists, full choir and orchestra, is a lesser-known but imposing work by the composer who brought us the mighty Dream of Gerontius. The story concerns the blind beggar whose sight Christ restored. The words are taken from the Gospel of St John, with additions by the Reverend Edward Capel Cure.

Elgar proposed to call this his first oratorio Lux Christi, but his publishers persuaded him to provide an English title: as the work was written with the 1896 Three Choirs Festival at Worchester in mind, the concern was that an Anglican cathedral festival might detect a Roman Catholic bias… Elgar complied, and the work was given the more suitable title by which we know it today.

Hickox and the London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus were joined on this recording by the soloists Judith Howarth, Linda Finnie, Arthur Davies, and John Shirley-Quirk.

- Chandos

"The performance of Elgar's oratorio that John Barbirolli conducted in Rome in November 1957 was briefly available on LP, and acquired a place in history as the only surviving record of the great Jon Vickers in the title role. Now out of copyright and available for the first time on CD, it's a fascinating document, although the shortcomings are considerable. Vickers doesn't disappoint, singing with an intensity and a care for the sound and sense of every word that are well nigh ideal...The orchestra and chorus do their best, which isn't quite good enough; it's Vickers who makes this a must-have." - Andrew Clements, The Guardian, London

This music could be called pre-Elgarian, since it was composed between 1878 and 1879, well before this late-bloomer had begun to find his distinctive voice. It was designed for a specific group of friends who joined together in an ensemble that was off kilter both in terms of its makeup (two flutes, oboe, clarinet, and bassoon) and in terms of its varying skills (the clarinetist was apparently less fluent than the flutists, while the bassoonist—the composer himself—was just beginning to master the instrument). It was penned under less-than-ideal circumstances, too: according to Jerrold Northrop Moore, cited in Noël Goodwin’s informative notes, the young church-organist composer tossed off much of this music during Sunday sermons.

All of this is apt to seem inauspicious, especially for those who don’t much care even for such “important” early works as the Bavarian Dances or for those who don’t like Elgar’s miniatures more generally. Rest assured: there may be nothing even faintly characteristic of the composer here, but the music is consistently captivating in a way that may bring the wind versions of Rossini’s String Sonatas to mind. No profundity, no sentimentality, no significant aesthetic aspirations, no formal challenges, no real attempt to engage the listener on any but the most superficial level: next to this, even the sunnier moments of the Dvo?ák Wind Serenade seem both monumental and avant-garde. But in its bursts of wit and in its unflagging and self-confident optimism, Elgar’s egregiously old-fashioned tidbits will surely brighten your brunch. These spirited performances, by the players who introduced the music to the wider public, have been staples of the Chandos catalog for years—and for good reason. If you’ve missed them in their earlier incarnations, now is a good time to make their acquaintance.

FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz

REVIEWS:
BBC Music (3/98, p.74) - "Du Pré's...1977 Elgar Cello Concerto recording....is compelling and richly Romantic....Ormandy and the Philadelphia's 'Enigma' is warmhearted and virtuosic....Davis's 'Pomp and Circumstance' Marches are bold and beefy."

Sir Andrew Davis takes his multi-award-winning Elgar discography to the next level with breathtaking interpretations of Falstaff, Elgar’s most accomplished and characteristic work, and several orchestral songs, with exemplary support from the BBC Philharmonic, all recorded in surround-sound. Owing to its technical challenges and more complex harmonic language, the composer always had a high opinion of Falstaff, saying that he had enjoyed writing i Gramophonet ‘more than any other music I have ever composed and perhaps for that reason it may prove to be among my best efforts’. His earlier music for Grania and Diarmid pays tribute to the Irish legend of Diarmuid and Grainne; the Funeral March is probably Elgar’s noblest creation, and echoes the popular Pomp and Circumstance Marches. The various less well-known songs, given heroic interpretations by the baritone Roderick Williams OBE, span the multiple facets of Elgar’s style, from the stern and dramatic impressions of Op. 60 to the satirical and impish jollity of ‘Kindly do not SMOKE’.

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REVIEW:

This is a superbly perceptive traversal of Elgar's Falstaff, evincing a strength of purpose, emotional candor, and meticulous attention to detail. Right from the outset there's an irresistibly idiomatic swagger, acquity, and temperament. Baritone Roderick Williams is at his eloquent best in an attractive selection of orchestral songs.

– Gramophone

Childhood-related but mature and attractive music, well performed and recorded.


Bryden Thomson had something of a reputation for slowish tempi, savouring the music a little too much as he went along. I find this less irksome in his performances of Bax, for example, than some reviewers, and it is not too much in evidence here. He is often faster than Boult; only rarely is he slower.

The Slumber Scene (track 6) is one exception: here, at 4:27, he is exactly a whole minute slower than Boult’s 3:27. EM, who has already reviewed this recording – see review – also noted that Thomson takes whole minute longer over this movement than Handley – at least, I think he meant to say that Thomson was slower, not shorter.

Not recalling that I had thought this movement at all slow in my first run-through, I let several days elapse before listening carefully to the Boult version, fully prepared to think his timing too rushed. It was no such thing – he captures the spirit of the piece perfectly. Having put on the Boult recording in order to check the one track, I just couldn’t resist playing the whole thing. This is a wonderful recording and EMI should urgently consider reissuing it, perhaps more appropriately coupled – the music and performance are even worthy to sit alongside the Enigma Variations. I note that JQ welcomed its most recent appearance on EMI British Classics with enthusiasm.

Then I played the Thomson again and derived equal pleasure from it. At first I thought the recording not quite as full as the Boult – EMI’s ADD sound is very good for its age – but that is an aural delusion resulting from the fact that the EMI transfer is at a slightly higher rate: turn up the Chandos a notch and the illusion disappears. Both performances and recordings deliver plenty of power where it is need.

Did Thomson’s Slumber Scene sound too slumberous? Only marginally – heard on its own, without comparison, it’s perfectly fine. I’ve said so often that tempo indications don’t always tell the full story that it’s time that I got it into my own noddle. I do think, however, that the March which begins the second suite (tr.8) is a touch slow at 4:58 against Boult’s 4:26.

The Nursery Suite and Dream Children also receive fine performances – the latter from Norman del Mar, always idiomatic in English music – well recorded. At its new price, this recording is very welcome. In the absence of the Boult (temporary, I hope) this will do very nicely.

If you enjoy these pieces, you will probably react favourably to Elgar’s other piece of childhood-related music, The Starlight Express, Op.78 - not to be confused with the West End musical of that name; there’s a wonderful budget-price Vernon Handley version on Classics For Pleasure 5859072.

-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International

Vital and individual readings.

There’s really not much to say about this one. Sir Andrew Davis in an all-Elgar programme ought to be a safe pair of hands, and so it turns out, and more besides.

The programme opens with the Enigma Variations, the phrasing of the theme as loving as one has ever heard it. The end of the first variation, C.A.E., depicting the composer’s wife, may be a little too drawn out for some tastes, but Elgar often expressed his affection for her in language at least as sweetly sentimental as this. The showy variations are splendid, but the more intimate ones are even more successful, and one comes away, perhaps more than in many performances, with the idea that some of Elgar’s friends were a melancholy lot. The cellist, Basil Nevinson, in a highly expressive reading, has rarely sounded as sad as he does here. The solo part is beautifully played, and this seems the moment to praise the outstanding orchestral playing throughout the disc, and the brilliantly characterful solo playing in particular. The Enigma Variations has been recorded many, many times, and each listener will have a favourite. I am very attached to Barbirolli in this work, though I sometimes wonder if this is not as much for sentimental reasons as for musical ones. The present performance is as fine as any I have heard, and I don’t think anyone who acquires it will be less than delighted. The recording is particularly detailed, bringing out a few points of orchestration I had never heard before, though you have to turn up the volume a fair bit to get enough punch in the louder passages, which means that the softer ones lose a little of their intimacy.

The performance of In the South is, if anything, even finer. The opening is surely the most exuberant music Elgar ever composed, and this comes over wonderfully well in this performance. Once again the orchestra is in inspired form, and this extends to the gentler, more atmospheric passages too. The work, always a winner in the concert hall, is nonetheless not one of the composer’s more coherent creations from a formal point of view, but Sir Andrew’s subtle control of tempo between the different sections disguises that very successfully. There are passages in the work where the composer runs the risk of overstepping the boundaries of taste, too, and it is a mark of the conductor’s skill that they are totally convincing. I’m thinking in particular of the passage based on hammered, repeated falling fifths (beginning at 7:12) where the listener is not sure whether Sir Andrew is moving the music on or not, only that the pulse never drags, successfully avoiding any suggestion of bombast. It’s a very fine performance and, like the Enigma, is greeted with enthusiastic applause.

This performance of the adorable Serenade will not appeal to those who want to indulge themselves, but is likely to please those who feel that Elgar knew what he wanted as regards tempo. Even so, the first and last movements here, amongst the briskest performances I know, still fall short of Elgar’s markings which do seem very fast indeed. The music is gracefully phrased, skipping rather than lilting, and is full of affection despite the conductor’s unwillingness to linger. The central slow movement, at a similarly flowing tempo, is very moving, wistful and passionate by turns, just as it should be.

The name “Philhamonia Orchestra” - albeit in trendy all lower case fashion - is given greater prominence on this disc than “Signum”, and the back cover of the booklet carries information about other Philharmonia performances on the same label. As a collaborative effort it can only be welcomed, especially at mid-price. There are very readable and informative notes by M. Ross. Newcomers to Elgar and seasoned listeners hoping for vital and individual readings of these particular works need not hesitate.

-- William Hedley, MusicWeb International

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

It takes an impressive performance for Elgar to come alive for me, as he does in this recording by Edo de Waart and the Royal Flemish Philharmonic, both subtle and fiery. The First Symphony, in particular, burns under a surface sheen, and “The Dream of Gerontius” is intensely played and firmly sung.

– New York Times

Nearly 80 minutes of Elgar in march tempo many be a bit much at a single sitting, but this disc fills a useful niche. The most interesting work here is the symphonic prelude Polonia, dedicated to Paderewski, and composed during the First World War. Making use of various Polish melodies (including music by Paderewski and Chopin), at nearly fifteen minutes it's a major statement for a mere "occasional" work, and the only reason I can think of that it isn't better known is that it's not about England so no one especially cares. James Judd and the New Zealand Symphony play it very well, as they also do the Pomp and Circumstances Marches. Frankly, you can have your Boults and Barbirollis: compared to Judd they sound far less involved. He actually has interesting ideas about phrasing (listen to how he drives the opening of March No. 2), and makes a persuasive case for this music as music, rather than as a high school graduation exercise or some other mundane event.


The Coronation March and the Funeral March from Grania and Diarmid are also bigger than their titles might suggest, the first as reflective as it is opulent, the second really a brief, elegiac tone poem. It's a bit hard to get excited about either the Empire March or the March from Caractacus, and the March of the Mogul Emperors (from The Crown of India Suite) could crash and bash with more abandon (where is the tam-tam?), but there's certainly enough here to whet the appetite of committed Elgarians. The sonics are also quite good: a touch low-level, perhaps, but easily adjustable, with plenty of room to expand and good bass separation between timpani, bass drum, and organ pedals (which are well caught but not overbearing). In short, this is another successful collaboration between Judd and the New Zealanders--long may they continue.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com