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Parry: Orchestral & Choral Works / Jarvi, BBC NO of Wales
$21.99CDChandos
Oct 30, 2012CHAN 10740 -
Finzi, Parry, Bridge - An English Suite / Boughton
$20.99CDNimbus
Oct 01, 1996NI5366 -
Hear My Prayer - Vaughan Williams, Stanford, Parry / His Majesties Clerkes
$19.99CDCedille
Jan 01, 1998CDR 036 -
Grand Piano - Percy Grainger Plays Grainger
$16.99CDGrand Piano (Nimbus)
Oct 01, 1996NI8809 -
On SaleGrainger: The Complete Piano Music / Martin Jones
CD$37.99$28.99Nimbus
Oct 01, 1996NI1767 -
Faire Is The Heaven - Music Of The English Church / Rutter
$18.99CDCollegium Records
Jan 01, 1988COLCD107 -
Choral Moods / Marlow, Choir Of Trinity College Cambridge
$16.99CDSony Masterworks
Oct 13, 199875605513082 -
Stanford: Six Irish Rhapsodies, Etc / Handley, Et Al
$27.99CDChandos
Nov 01, 2003CHAN 10116(2) X
Parry: Orchestral & Choral Works / Jarvi, BBC NO of Wales
Chandos
Available as
CD
$21.99
Oct 30, 2012
One of the most important Parry issues for many years, this is a credit to all the performers, not least the warmly committed conductor, Neeme Järvi, drawing the whole ensemble together.
– Gramophone [12/2012]
-----
A moving tribute to one of Britain great composers.
When I showed this CD to a friend they responded by suggesting that it would be right up my street. Unfortunately, this comment was barbed. ‘My street’ in this case meant ‘over-blown’ ceremonial music of the kind that uncritically lauded Empire, glorified war and insisted that the ‘rich man [was] in his castle, The poor man at his gate’. Before the reader runs off with the idea that I am politically slightly to the right of Sir Oswald Mosley, I wish to make three comments. Firstly, Parry and Elgar were men of their time so their choice of poems to set and ideas to compose were different to someone living in the post-Colonial, ‘liberal’ and cosmopolitan society of the early part of the 21 st century. Secondly, not all ‘ceremonial’ music is bad. For example, while I have never been a fan of Elgar’s The Crown of India, I do love Walton’s coronation marches. By definition, this style of music tends to celebrate the life and times of the Royal Family or matters of ‘state’. However, it need not be ‘tub-thumping’ or ‘jingoistic’. Often it can be reflective and contain profound thoughts on mankind’s adventure. One need only consider the ‘Cortege’ by Cecil Coles - ideal for Remembrance Sunday yet full of the ‘horror of war’.
Thirdly, there is a tendency to present Parry as a caricature of a ‘Tory’ squire who was into all the trappings of the feudal society. Nothing could be further from the truth. This is not the place to analyse the composer’s political or moral views, however it is fair to say that he was liberal - possibly even a ‘radical’. His religious views were typically agnostic in spite of Delius’ suggestion that if he lived long enough he would have set the entire Bible! H.R.H. Charles, Prince of Wales has noted in his introduction to the CD liner-notes that Parry, in spite of his ‘hugely energetic personality’ revealed a ‘nervous, melancholy, even depressive temperament which infuses the inspiring and noble sentiment of much of his music with a darker, complex hue.’
The listener to this CD will be surprised. In spite of the cover photograph of a grand royal procession, much of this music is introverted and deeply moving. Some of it may have been written to celebrate national or royal events - but all of it has a thoughtful disposition. There is nothing here for the ‘jingoist’ expects possibly the Prom favourite Jerusalem. However, this hymn setting has been accepted by people of all political persuasions and none as a great national treasure.
A good place to start is the setting of John O’ Gaunt’s verse England. This song has occasionally been mentioned in the same breath as the well-known Jerusalem yet they could not be more different in their musical nature.
The story goes that after the success of the Blake setting, Gilbert Murray, the classicist and Ernest Walker, the composer, asked Parry to make a setting of John O’ Gaunt’s famous monologue from Act II of Shakespeare’s play Richard II. (This royal throne of Kings, this sceptred island). There is nothing bombastic about this beautiful unison song. If anything it is undemonstrative and reflective, with a greater emphasis being on the final words ‘Grant, Lord, that England … May be renown’d through all recorded ages / For Christian service and true Chivalry’. Jeremy Dibble has noted that England is about more than just flying the flag - ‘its rousing tune expresses a sense of vision, self-sacrifice and hope, typical of Parry’s own outlook.’
Jerusalem is given a largely thoughtful performance here. This song, beloved by the vast majority of the nation, is usually heard in the opulent Elgar orchestration. The original Parry song has slightly fewer grand aspirations. The composer suggested that the first verse ought to be sung by a soprano solo with the second sung by ‘all available voices’. Formerly composed as a ‘choral song’ with only a piano accompaniment, Parry orchestrated it right at the end of his life for a Suffrage Demonstration Concert on 13 March 1918 at the Queen’s Hall. My only complaint is the excessive length of the final word (Land) sung by the choir. This is at variance with my score of the work.
The nation collectively heard the Wedding March from Parry’s incidental music to the Greek comedy, The Birds by Aristophanes at the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge; it was played just before the arrival of Her Majesty the Queen. For Parry enthusiasts this extract had been available on Lyrita featuring Sir Adrian Boult and the London Philharmonic Orchestra. As far as I know, until now there has been no recording of the entire score. The present performing edition has been prepared for performance by Philip Brookes.
The Birds was produced by the Cambridge University Amateur Dramatic Club in November 1893. Jeremy Dibble has suggested that this music is full of ‘humour and light-heartedness’ and notes that the score is ‘rich in artifice and invention’. I enjoyed it. I guess that knowledge of the Aristophanes play may be of some help to listeners but all these numbers stand well on their own account. I was especially attracted to the gentle Entr’acte, the cheeky waltz, and the beautiful Intermezzo. All these display Parry’s skills at musical design and orchestration at their best.
The piece that gave my friend the greatest cause for concern about political correctness was the short ode entitled The Glories of Blood and State. He must have imagined Parry indulging in some idealist ‘Brooke-ian’ ‘pro patria mori’ sentiment. Nothing could be further from the truth. This is an early work dating from 1883, written some three years after the composer broke the mould of dissipation in English music with his Wagnerian cantata Prometheus Unbound. This ground-breaking work probably does not represent the ‘renaissance’ of British music - just the realisation that it was equal to the German hegemony. The present work is a setting of a poem by the English author James Shirley (1596-1666). Charles Lamb summed up this writer’s career with ‘[he] claims a place among the worthies of this period, not so much for any transcendent genius in himself, as that he was the last of a great race, all of whom spoke nearly the same language and had a set of moral feelings and notions in common.’ The funeral dirge from his play ‘The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses’ was regarded as a meditation on the fact that death is a leveller - kings and peasants are subject to the same laws of nature - ‘There is no armour against fate.’ The exposition of the music is excellent. There is a Brahmsian feel to this music that reflects Parry’s love of the Deutsches Requiem: Wagner’s ghost has (almost) been laid to rest. Perhaps anyone still worried about Parry and his ‘tub-thumping’ should meditate on the last line of the poem - ‘Only the actions of the just/Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust’.
Sir Henry Wood wrote in his fascinating My Life of Music (1938) that ‘one work we produced I thought was going to live - Parry’s Magnificat - but it has now dropped out of the concert repertoire. I have never been able to understand why’. It is a sentiment with which I strongly concur: I believe that the Magnificat is a masterpiece. It was composed for the 1897 Three Choirs Festival and was duly performed there on 15 September. It has one primary exemplar: Bach’s Magnificat of 1732-35; however, the listener will feel that much of the strength of this music is similar to the massive contrapuntal constructions of Blest Pair of Sirens which was completed ten years earlier. They may also consider that there are hints of Brahms. The work is conceived in five sections: the first and last being composed for soprano, chorus and orchestra, the second and fourth for soloists alone with the middle section being composed for chorus.
The listener will find this setting extremely satisfying for Parry has managed to balance his forces in a near-perfect manner. The ‘aggressive’ parts of the text are balanced with exquisite introspective moments. Lyrical music is counterpoised with ‘contrapuntal fertility and rich choral textures’. Some of the soprano soloist’s music is reminiscent of Brahms’ German Requiem and certain passages have more of an operatic, rather than a liturgical, mood to them.
It is interesting that Parry drew the text from the Vulgate Latin Bible rather than use an English translation such as the Book of Common Prayer. It would be instructive to know why. After the first performance, Parry dedicated the work to Queen Victoria.
In 1911, Hubert Parry was commissioned to compose a liturgical Te Deum for the Coronation of King George V. This was in addition to the well-known anthem I was Glad. This work displays the ‘pageantry, ceremony and grandeur’ of an important national occasion. This mood was reinforced by the use of the same six trumpets that were required for the anthem. Yet throughout, a more serious note is struck: tenderness and solemnity are never far away. Parry seems to be well-aware of the more profound and numinous qualities of the Coronation Service. He weaves the well-known tunes St Anne and Old 100 th into the texture. This is now a ‘concert’ piece: I do not believe that it could be used in the context of a religious ceremony - no matter how ‘high.’ It is worthy and I find it both exhilarating and moving.
The CD is an ideal production. From the highly imaginative and packed programme eloquently communicated through superb performances. The sound quality is excellent. The liner-notes are exemplary, however that is only to be expected from the champion of Parry and Stanford, Professor Jeremy Dibble of Durham University.
When I look at the catalogue of Parry’s music and encounter works like the great Fourth Symphony, the delightful evocation of childhood in the Shulbrede Tunes and the celebration of the composer’s yacht in the ‘Wanderer’ Fantasia and Fugue for organ, I see a composer, who, far from revelling in any false ‘my country right or wrong’ attitude was a thoughtful man: The Prince of Wales notes that he took ‘a wide interest in politics, the Arts, science and the most current philosophical discussion of his time…’ Parry was a complex character: this complexity is revealed in this CD.
Finally, my friend was wrong. This is not a CD of ‘jingoistic’ music: there is no sense of ‘tub-thumping’ or what current-day political correctness would find abhorrent. It stand as a moving tribute to one of Britain great composers. It is good that we are now beginning to appreciate that fact again.
-- John France , MusicWeb International
Finzi, Parry, Bridge - An English Suite / Boughton
Nimbus
Available as
CD
$20.99
Oct 01, 1996
"...For Bridge enthusiasts there is no competition to this recording, which is therefore valuable in its own right."
The three composers represented on this compilation have little in common with each other apart from their nationality and the fact that they were largely neglected during the latter part of their lives and after their deaths. Of the three, Parry always kept a foothold on the repertory because of his choral music - although much of this substantial body of work remains unrecorded to this day - but the English Suite was a posthumous work edited after the composer’s death for performance by his pupil Emily Daymond and not performed until four years after his death, in a Prom outing after which it promptly sank without trace. Some of the ideas in the music date back to Parry’s heyday in 1894 but Daymond did her mentor no favours when she suggested that two of the seven movements of the suite could be omitted if the Suite was thought to be too long, and here the Caprice movement is indeed not given – as it was in Boult’s earlier 1971 recording for Lyrita. The work is hardly over-extended at under twenty minutes, and there would have been plenty of room for the additional movement. The later recordings in the catalogue, conducted by Richard Hickox and Adrian Leaper, also include the work complete and under the circumstances there seems little to recommend this cut version under Boughton unless the other works on the disc appeal.
Like Parry’s Suite, Finzi’s Eclogue was not published or performed until after the composer’s death, and the title was supplied by his editors. It was originally written in the 1920s as the slow movement of a piano concerto, but was revised some twenty years later to the form we now know. The first recording was made in 1977 under the indefatigable Vernon Handley and Peter Katin, but since then there have been a number of others. Martin Jones gives a very cool reading which emphasises the almost neo-classical style of the writing; one can imagine the work being played with more heated romantic fervour, but it nevertheless reveals all its crystalline beauty in this reading and the playing of the strings is beautifully refined. This is probably the best track on the disc; but the greater part of the collection really rests on the shoulders of Frank Bridge.
After his death, Bridge was even more neglected than Parry or Finzi; indeed, for many years he was only remembered for the fact that he had supplied the theme for Britten’s Variations, and there were more recordings of that piece in the catalogues than of any of Bridge’s own orchestral music. Britten himself recorded Sir Roger de Coverley with the English Chamber Orchestra in 1969 in the Snape Maltings, and the larger body of strings he employed made a more positive impression than Boughton manages here. It was not until Sir Charles Groves devoted a whole EMI LP to the orchestral music of Bridge in 1976 that the revival of the composer’s fortunes may be said to have been safely launched. Groves could sometimes be a rather stolid and sober conductor, but at his best he was capable of producing some superb performances – his recording of Delius’s Koanga remains unchallenged in the catalogue to this day, and his Bridge compilation was another of the highlights of his recorded repertoire. He included Cherry ripe and the Lament in his compilation, and two years later Boult gave us première recordings of Rosemary and Sally in our Alley; but this Nimbus disc was - so far as I can tell - the first to include recordings of the Canzonetta and the Irish melody. Indeed this remains the only available recording of the latter work in its orchestral form, since it was not even included in Hickox’s otherwise comprehensive survey of Bridge’s orchestral music for Chandos; the other recordings in the current catalogue are of the original string quartet version.
In terms of performances Boughton’s readings of Bridge are fine, but these are not by and large Bridge’s greatest works; indeed many of them are transcriptions for string orchestra of pieces that Bridge originally wrote for smaller forces, and many of them fall close to the category of ‘light music’ – if any music by Bridge could be so described. Boughton is just a little slower than his competitors Boult or Groves - to the advantage of the heartfelt Lament - but the differences in interpretation are minimal. The most substantial work here, There is a willow grows aslant a brook, is however something different again. This meditation on the death of Ophelia (in Hamlet) is one of Bridge’s most impassioned later works, and in terms of length and content it can hardly be categorised as a miniature. This is the only work on this disc which includes wind instruments, and it is also clearly the most ‘modern’ composition here; Boughton gives the music plenty of atmosphere. But there are many other recordings of this piece, and some of these - not least Hickox - give the music more substance.
The real attraction for Bridge completists - who will in any event presumably already possess all the Hickox recordings - is the orchestral version of the Irish Melody, which contains yet another arrangement of the (London)derry Air to set beside those of Grainger and Harty. It is quite a bit less conventional than the setting by Harty, but decidedly less so than some of the sometimes bizarrely chromatic versions in which Grainger indulged himself. Then again, this is not really a conventionally Irish tune; it fits no known Irish metre, and its history might lead to some suspicion as to whether it is really a traditional Irish melody at all. It was first published in 1855 (without words) and was supplied to George Petrie by Jane Ross who had arranged it herself for piano and merely stated that it was “very old”. However later researchers failed to uncover any trace of its origins, or any Gaelic words; the first poet to supply lyrics was Percival Graves for an 1882 setting by Stanford. Apparently Jane Ross, who was a conscientious collector of folk-songs, may have heard the song in Donegal - where her brother was a fisherman - rather than Derry itself. There remains a suspicion that she may actually have written the melody herself – perhaps more likely than an alternative explanation which attributes the tune to the fairies. Bridge’s arrangement is the central section of a piece that is quite substantial in length and depth; he adds a double-bass part to the original quartet version. One could imagine the work might be more effective with more players; the cellos at 1.32 and 2.16 sound rather thinner than ideal. For Bridge enthusiasts there is no competition to this recording, which is therefore valuable in its own right.
The recorded sound throughout is natural, and nicely resonant without being overblown.
- Paul Corfield Godfrey, MusicWeb International
The three composers represented on this compilation have little in common with each other apart from their nationality and the fact that they were largely neglected during the latter part of their lives and after their deaths. Of the three, Parry always kept a foothold on the repertory because of his choral music - although much of this substantial body of work remains unrecorded to this day - but the English Suite was a posthumous work edited after the composer’s death for performance by his pupil Emily Daymond and not performed until four years after his death, in a Prom outing after which it promptly sank without trace. Some of the ideas in the music date back to Parry’s heyday in 1894 but Daymond did her mentor no favours when she suggested that two of the seven movements of the suite could be omitted if the Suite was thought to be too long, and here the Caprice movement is indeed not given – as it was in Boult’s earlier 1971 recording for Lyrita. The work is hardly over-extended at under twenty minutes, and there would have been plenty of room for the additional movement. The later recordings in the catalogue, conducted by Richard Hickox and Adrian Leaper, also include the work complete and under the circumstances there seems little to recommend this cut version under Boughton unless the other works on the disc appeal.
Like Parry’s Suite, Finzi’s Eclogue was not published or performed until after the composer’s death, and the title was supplied by his editors. It was originally written in the 1920s as the slow movement of a piano concerto, but was revised some twenty years later to the form we now know. The first recording was made in 1977 under the indefatigable Vernon Handley and Peter Katin, but since then there have been a number of others. Martin Jones gives a very cool reading which emphasises the almost neo-classical style of the writing; one can imagine the work being played with more heated romantic fervour, but it nevertheless reveals all its crystalline beauty in this reading and the playing of the strings is beautifully refined. This is probably the best track on the disc; but the greater part of the collection really rests on the shoulders of Frank Bridge.
After his death, Bridge was even more neglected than Parry or Finzi; indeed, for many years he was only remembered for the fact that he had supplied the theme for Britten’s Variations, and there were more recordings of that piece in the catalogues than of any of Bridge’s own orchestral music. Britten himself recorded Sir Roger de Coverley with the English Chamber Orchestra in 1969 in the Snape Maltings, and the larger body of strings he employed made a more positive impression than Boughton manages here. It was not until Sir Charles Groves devoted a whole EMI LP to the orchestral music of Bridge in 1976 that the revival of the composer’s fortunes may be said to have been safely launched. Groves could sometimes be a rather stolid and sober conductor, but at his best he was capable of producing some superb performances – his recording of Delius’s Koanga remains unchallenged in the catalogue to this day, and his Bridge compilation was another of the highlights of his recorded repertoire. He included Cherry ripe and the Lament in his compilation, and two years later Boult gave us première recordings of Rosemary and Sally in our Alley; but this Nimbus disc was - so far as I can tell - the first to include recordings of the Canzonetta and the Irish melody. Indeed this remains the only available recording of the latter work in its orchestral form, since it was not even included in Hickox’s otherwise comprehensive survey of Bridge’s orchestral music for Chandos; the other recordings in the current catalogue are of the original string quartet version.
In terms of performances Boughton’s readings of Bridge are fine, but these are not by and large Bridge’s greatest works; indeed many of them are transcriptions for string orchestra of pieces that Bridge originally wrote for smaller forces, and many of them fall close to the category of ‘light music’ – if any music by Bridge could be so described. Boughton is just a little slower than his competitors Boult or Groves - to the advantage of the heartfelt Lament - but the differences in interpretation are minimal. The most substantial work here, There is a willow grows aslant a brook, is however something different again. This meditation on the death of Ophelia (in Hamlet) is one of Bridge’s most impassioned later works, and in terms of length and content it can hardly be categorised as a miniature. This is the only work on this disc which includes wind instruments, and it is also clearly the most ‘modern’ composition here; Boughton gives the music plenty of atmosphere. But there are many other recordings of this piece, and some of these - not least Hickox - give the music more substance.
The real attraction for Bridge completists - who will in any event presumably already possess all the Hickox recordings - is the orchestral version of the Irish Melody, which contains yet another arrangement of the (London)derry Air to set beside those of Grainger and Harty. It is quite a bit less conventional than the setting by Harty, but decidedly less so than some of the sometimes bizarrely chromatic versions in which Grainger indulged himself. Then again, this is not really a conventionally Irish tune; it fits no known Irish metre, and its history might lead to some suspicion as to whether it is really a traditional Irish melody at all. It was first published in 1855 (without words) and was supplied to George Petrie by Jane Ross who had arranged it herself for piano and merely stated that it was “very old”. However later researchers failed to uncover any trace of its origins, or any Gaelic words; the first poet to supply lyrics was Percival Graves for an 1882 setting by Stanford. Apparently Jane Ross, who was a conscientious collector of folk-songs, may have heard the song in Donegal - where her brother was a fisherman - rather than Derry itself. There remains a suspicion that she may actually have written the melody herself – perhaps more likely than an alternative explanation which attributes the tune to the fairies. Bridge’s arrangement is the central section of a piece that is quite substantial in length and depth; he adds a double-bass part to the original quartet version. One could imagine the work might be more effective with more players; the cellos at 1.32 and 2.16 sound rather thinner than ideal. For Bridge enthusiasts there is no competition to this recording, which is therefore valuable in its own right.
The recorded sound throughout is natural, and nicely resonant without being overblown.
- Paul Corfield Godfrey, MusicWeb International
Hear My Prayer - Vaughan Williams, Stanford, Parry / His Majesties Clerkes
Cedille
Available as
CD
$19.99
Jan 01, 1998
Moving music of late-Romantic spirituality by three great 20th-century English composers.
Vaughan Williams Mass in G Minor, Stanford Motets Op. 38, and Parry "Songs of Farewell."
Vaughan Williams Mass in G Minor, Stanford Motets Op. 38, and Parry "Songs of Farewell."
Grand Piano - Percy Grainger Plays Grainger
Grand Piano (Nimbus)
Available as
CD
$16.99
Oct 01, 1996
Percy Grainger recorded these selections on Aeolian "Duo Art" piano rolls between 1915-1929, and they are reproduced on a modern piano. Gerald C. Stonehill supplied the piano rolls used for this disc.
Grainger: The Complete Piano Music / Martin Jones
Nimbus
Available as
CD
An essential box set of Graingeresque delight.
2011 marks the fiftieth anniversary of Percy Grainger’s death and the event has witnessed the reissue of a number of important recordings. This isn’t one such, because it’s remained in the Nimbus catalogue throughout, but I did want to draw brief attention to this super-abundant, characterful, and wholly marvellous five CD set of the complete piano music, played by the indefatigable, stylistically apt Martin Jones. He’s one of the undersung masters of a variety of repertoire – as good in Iberian music as he is in British, I’d suggest.
Here his encyclopaedic survey acts as a modern day cornerstone. You should hear his recordings, if you are excited by Grainger, and compare and contrast them with the composer’s own recordings which fortunately – all the 78s at any rate – have recently been reissued in a five CD set by APR [7501]. The experience is both exciting and diverting. But Grainger only recorded (and re-recorded) a fraction of his own pieces, whereas Jones has collared the lot. And how!
The first disc starts with some classic Grainger; the brio, clarity and speed of Jones’s take on Handel in the Strand is a tonic whilst To a Nordic Princess rises to a passionate pitch of assertion. In a Nutshell is a suite the charms of which seldom pall, and in this performance Jones crafts an unusually expressive Pastoral, slow and spare then incrementally building up in sonority, power and speed. The playful and vibrant badinage of The Immovable Do is especially well realised – one of the very best moments in this opening disc - though the reflective and beautiful Colonial Song runs it, very differently, close. Those who have never come across the roistering cakewalk of In Dahomey are in for a treat.
The second disc is given over to arrangements. To a degree it’s of less pressing interest to the Grainger novice, but it’s essential ground for those who want to understand his enthusiasms and the musical means by which he conveyed them. The opening of the Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto makes some fearsome demands on the intrepid solo pianist whereas the Brahms Cradle song that cannily follows it is delightfully spun – lissom legato, not lion-hearted virtuosity. His arrangement of Nimrod is probably quite well known but that of Rachmaninoff – the finale of the Second Concerto – probably less so. I must admit that the Dowland transcription, of Now, O now, I needs must part, is absolutely irresistible in Jones’s performance. He really does have the touch for refinement in these works. Of the other works, it’s interesting to contrast Grainger’s own 1929 78 of the Rosenkavalier with Jones’s. Then there’s the convoluted tribute to Stephen Foster, the well-known Bach Blithe Bells and the same composer’s Fugue in A minor – it reminds one of Bach’s importance to Grainger, as performer and composer.
The third disc offers 28 examples of Graingeresque delight. Some are very concise folk-songs and traditional songs, others better known examples of his art. Let me just suggest a few which I think especially illuminating or unusual. If you’ve not come across The Merry King, try to do so, and you won’t regret it; it’s hauntingly beautiful. A Jutish Melody was recorded by Grainger in one of his very rarest 78s – a double-sided 1929 Columbia. He takes it a touch faster than Jones. Spoon River is played with vibrancy but Jones is ever alert as to treble colouration. There are also the simple and complex versions of One more day my John.
The fourth disc is a curious collection but that only makes it the more valuable for completists. We have Stanford’s Four Irish Dances, the deeply sensitive Fauré songs – what a shame Grainger didn’t record them – and the opening movement transcription of the Schumann Piano Concerto, which, like the Rachmaninoff, is probably best known by close readers of Grainger’s work in this field – a virtuosic single-voiced domestication, as it were, of the concerto literature. Another such is the better remembered Grieg Concerto first movement, also in this disc. His homage to Delius comes via the Air and Dance – but there are plenty of things to occupy the eager ears in this disc. Uppermost amongst them we find Angelus ad Virginem, a lovely carol, and then some of Grainger’s early works. These include the Schumannesque Klavierstücke in E, and the other early pieces which are variously awkward and Brahmsian or, in the case of the one in B flat, incomplete. There’s also the one in D, which Grainger dedicated to his father. The Bigelow March, an insouciant piece, was actually written by Ella Grainger, Percy’s wife.
The final disc has bigger works, ending with The Warriors. It also includes those pieces written for four hands on one piano, four on two pianos, six on one piano and six on two pianos. Children's March: "Over the Hills and Far Away" is a sonorous and ebullient example of Martin Jones and Richard McMahon playing on two pianos. But all these pieces are richly exciting and attractive. In the midst of all this don’t overlook the calm solo Grainger fashioned from William Byrd – The Carman’s Whistle or indeed Gershwin’s Embraceable You. The resilience of the performers and the clarity of the six-handed, two-piano, arrangement of The Warriors elevates it to a must-hear experience.
I hope this has given some indication of why this is so essential a box for admirers of the composer. I appreciate that Nimbus’s sound in these 1989-91 recordings is not to everyone’s tastes, but it will certainly do, and the booklet notes are classy. What a splendid undertaking this was.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
2011 marks the fiftieth anniversary of Percy Grainger’s death and the event has witnessed the reissue of a number of important recordings. This isn’t one such, because it’s remained in the Nimbus catalogue throughout, but I did want to draw brief attention to this super-abundant, characterful, and wholly marvellous five CD set of the complete piano music, played by the indefatigable, stylistically apt Martin Jones. He’s one of the undersung masters of a variety of repertoire – as good in Iberian music as he is in British, I’d suggest.
Here his encyclopaedic survey acts as a modern day cornerstone. You should hear his recordings, if you are excited by Grainger, and compare and contrast them with the composer’s own recordings which fortunately – all the 78s at any rate – have recently been reissued in a five CD set by APR [7501]. The experience is both exciting and diverting. But Grainger only recorded (and re-recorded) a fraction of his own pieces, whereas Jones has collared the lot. And how!
The first disc starts with some classic Grainger; the brio, clarity and speed of Jones’s take on Handel in the Strand is a tonic whilst To a Nordic Princess rises to a passionate pitch of assertion. In a Nutshell is a suite the charms of which seldom pall, and in this performance Jones crafts an unusually expressive Pastoral, slow and spare then incrementally building up in sonority, power and speed. The playful and vibrant badinage of The Immovable Do is especially well realised – one of the very best moments in this opening disc - though the reflective and beautiful Colonial Song runs it, very differently, close. Those who have never come across the roistering cakewalk of In Dahomey are in for a treat.
The second disc is given over to arrangements. To a degree it’s of less pressing interest to the Grainger novice, but it’s essential ground for those who want to understand his enthusiasms and the musical means by which he conveyed them. The opening of the Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto makes some fearsome demands on the intrepid solo pianist whereas the Brahms Cradle song that cannily follows it is delightfully spun – lissom legato, not lion-hearted virtuosity. His arrangement of Nimrod is probably quite well known but that of Rachmaninoff – the finale of the Second Concerto – probably less so. I must admit that the Dowland transcription, of Now, O now, I needs must part, is absolutely irresistible in Jones’s performance. He really does have the touch for refinement in these works. Of the other works, it’s interesting to contrast Grainger’s own 1929 78 of the Rosenkavalier with Jones’s. Then there’s the convoluted tribute to Stephen Foster, the well-known Bach Blithe Bells and the same composer’s Fugue in A minor – it reminds one of Bach’s importance to Grainger, as performer and composer.
The third disc offers 28 examples of Graingeresque delight. Some are very concise folk-songs and traditional songs, others better known examples of his art. Let me just suggest a few which I think especially illuminating or unusual. If you’ve not come across The Merry King, try to do so, and you won’t regret it; it’s hauntingly beautiful. A Jutish Melody was recorded by Grainger in one of his very rarest 78s – a double-sided 1929 Columbia. He takes it a touch faster than Jones. Spoon River is played with vibrancy but Jones is ever alert as to treble colouration. There are also the simple and complex versions of One more day my John.
The fourth disc is a curious collection but that only makes it the more valuable for completists. We have Stanford’s Four Irish Dances, the deeply sensitive Fauré songs – what a shame Grainger didn’t record them – and the opening movement transcription of the Schumann Piano Concerto, which, like the Rachmaninoff, is probably best known by close readers of Grainger’s work in this field – a virtuosic single-voiced domestication, as it were, of the concerto literature. Another such is the better remembered Grieg Concerto first movement, also in this disc. His homage to Delius comes via the Air and Dance – but there are plenty of things to occupy the eager ears in this disc. Uppermost amongst them we find Angelus ad Virginem, a lovely carol, and then some of Grainger’s early works. These include the Schumannesque Klavierstücke in E, and the other early pieces which are variously awkward and Brahmsian or, in the case of the one in B flat, incomplete. There’s also the one in D, which Grainger dedicated to his father. The Bigelow March, an insouciant piece, was actually written by Ella Grainger, Percy’s wife.
The final disc has bigger works, ending with The Warriors. It also includes those pieces written for four hands on one piano, four on two pianos, six on one piano and six on two pianos. Children's March: "Over the Hills and Far Away" is a sonorous and ebullient example of Martin Jones and Richard McMahon playing on two pianos. But all these pieces are richly exciting and attractive. In the midst of all this don’t overlook the calm solo Grainger fashioned from William Byrd – The Carman’s Whistle or indeed Gershwin’s Embraceable You. The resilience of the performers and the clarity of the six-handed, two-piano, arrangement of The Warriors elevates it to a must-hear experience.
I hope this has given some indication of why this is so essential a box for admirers of the composer. I appreciate that Nimbus’s sound in these 1989-91 recordings is not to everyone’s tastes, but it will certainly do, and the booklet notes are classy. What a splendid undertaking this was.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
Faire Is The Heaven - Music Of The English Church / Rutter
Collegium Records
Available as
CD
$18.99
Jan 01, 1988
This recording is dedicated to unaccompanied English church music, sung in the beautiful acoustic of the Lady Chapel of Ely Cathedral. The 23 motets and anthems are drawn from three key periods: the Reformation, in the sixteenth century; the Restoration, in the later seventeenth century; and the Anglican revival, in the mid-nineteenth century. "An individual record of exceptional warmth and delight." -- Gramophone
Choral Moods / Marlow, Choir Of Trinity College Cambridge
Sony Masterworks
Available as
CD
$16.99
Oct 13, 1998
Richard Marlow's Trinity College Choir of Cambridge has established itself as one of the premier groups of its kind, recording prolifically for Conifer and staking out a swath of repertorial turf that encompasses devotional music from the sixteenth century to the middle of the twentieth. Unlike their better-known counterparts at King's College, the Trinity choristers are an all adult ensemble, using women instead of boy trebles and achieving a more professional sound as a result.
CHORAL MOODS is a well-filled two-disk compilation which offers an excellent survey of sacred choral music, though one might have hoped for a little more J. S. Bach. What is here, above all, is beautiful music, well sung and recorded. There are some substantial pieces, such as the Gregorio Allegri "Miserere," Felix Mendelssohn's anthem "Hear My Prayer" and the complete "Messe Basse" (Low Mass) of Gabriel Fauré, as well as some less frequently encountered works such as Henry Balfour Gardiner's "Evening Hymn" and Camille Saint-Saëns "O Salutaris Hostia." It adds up to make a highly commendable anthology.
CHORAL MOODS is a well-filled two-disk compilation which offers an excellent survey of sacred choral music, though one might have hoped for a little more J. S. Bach. What is here, above all, is beautiful music, well sung and recorded. There are some substantial pieces, such as the Gregorio Allegri "Miserere," Felix Mendelssohn's anthem "Hear My Prayer" and the complete "Messe Basse" (Low Mass) of Gabriel Fauré, as well as some less frequently encountered works such as Henry Balfour Gardiner's "Evening Hymn" and Camille Saint-Saëns "O Salutaris Hostia." It adds up to make a highly commendable anthology.
Stanford: Six Irish Rhapsodies, Etc / Handley, Et Al
Chandos
Available as
CD
$27.99
Nov 01, 2003
Vernon Handley has a great flair for getting the best out of unusual late-romantic music such as this, particularly when it has a Celtic flavour. He secures excellent playing from the Ulster Orchestra, and the recording is beautifully clear and sonorous. -- Gramophone
