A remarkable achievement.

Last year, when I surveyed most of the available recordings of The Dream of Gerontius, I expressed the hope that Mark Elder, as he then was, and his Hallé forces might make a commercial recording of the work. That hope was inspired by the remarkable performance that they had given at the 2005 Henry Wood Promenade Concerts, which, as I commented at the time, made a great impression on me. Having re-listened to it more than once in the off-air recording I made, I now feel it was, quite simply, the finest live account of the work that I ever expect to hear. And now, with almost identical forces, the newly-knighted Sir Mark Elder has made a studio recording. It comes too late for the 150th anniversary of Elgar’s birth but instead, and more fittingly, perhaps, it marks the Hallé’s own 150th birthday, which falls this year.

The inevitable question is: has it been worth the wait for this recording? The answer is an unequivocal "yes".

The American tenor, Paul Groves, reprises the role of Gerontius, as I hoped he would. I hadn’t realised it at the time but we learn from the booklet biography that his performance at the 2005 Proms was his debut in the role, which makes his achievement that night all the more remarkable. His greatest virtue of all, it seems to me, is the clarity and ease of his singing. Every note is hit right in the centre and his voice has an exciting and pleasing ring. The top notes are always true and secure. I followed in the score but, frankly, that was superfluous as far as the text is concerned for Groves’ diction is crystal clear – as, indeed, is that of the other soloists and the choirs.

In Part I Elgar sets his tenor a task that is almost impossible. The singer must try to suggest the frailty of a man on his death bed while, at the same time, he must be able to deliver heroic, dramatic passages, such as ‘Sanctus fortis’. Groves is fully equal to the dramatic sections though sometimes he does sound a little too healthy for a dying man. ‘Sanctus fortis’ is a huge test and it’s one that Groves passes with flying colours. He starts it in ringing, forthright voice but later on, just before cue 48 in the vocal score, he shades off the end of the phrase "Parce mihi, Domine" with great sensitivity. In this aria, and frequently during the performance as a whole, he demonstrates prodigious breath control. One example occurs in ‘Sanctus fortis’, where the whole eight-bar phrase, "For the love of Him alone, Holy Church as his creation" is taken in one span, where most tenors take a breath, quite legitimately, after the comma. Later, the first phrase of ‘Take me away’ is one glorious, seamless whole, as it should be but often isn’t. Returning to ‘Sanctus fortis’, there’s a lovely piangendo at cue 53, when the words "Sanctus fortis" are repeated gently by Gerontius, and then the phrase "O Jesu, help" is truly anguished. Groves’ delivery of the climatic "In Thine own agony", top B flat and all, is magnificent. In all, his performance of this testing keynote aria is very fine.

Part II brings different demands for the tenor soloist. Now he represents the soul of the dead Gerontius. Quite a bit of the music in Part I required the vocal resources of a heldentenor but the opening pages of Part II needs the subtlety of a lieder singer. I’m not sure that Groves is quite successful in these passages. The clear, pleasing singing remains a constant feature but he doesn’t seem to delve as deeply into the words as do some of his distinguished predecessors in the role. As an example, I compared the first solo – "I went to sleep" - as sung on disc by John Mitchinson (for Rattle) and by Anthony Rolfe Johnson (Vernon Handley). Both are so much more responsive to the words and both also sing more quietly. Groves can’t quite match those experienced masters of the role. But he brings his own insights and subtleties to the part and his dialogue with the Angel is intelligently and sensitively sung. Inspired, no doubt, by the presence of an audience, he was a touch more spontaneous at times in the live Proms performance. On the other hand, on that occasion he had to project into a huge acoustic. Here, recording under studio conditions, he can offer a more subtly nuanced reading. The last section of the role, the aria ‘Take me away’, is another hugely demanding solo. Groves’ opening is superb. Later on, perhaps, a little more dynamic contrast would have been welcome but his fervour – not overdone - firm tone and excellent breath control offer ample compensation and the final phrase – "there let me be" – is most affecting.

Alice Coote, who was the Angel in the Proms performance, once again takes the role for the recording. Like Paul Groves she offers much but I found it interesting to compare this performance with her live account. To my ears her voice has a slight edge to it at times in this present performance and her tone doesn’t have quite the same degree of warmth and fullness that she exhibited at the Proms. That said, she is right inside the role, she sings with feeling and commitment and her performance gives a great deal of pleasure. I like, for example, the inflection she brings to the words, "this child of clay". A little later on, she has the right amount of legato and warmth for "A presage falls upon thee." That wonderful passage "There was a mortal" is done with appropriate inwardness – I think she does this passage even better here than in the Proms performance. Her account of the celebrated Farewell is lovely. She brings compassion and dignity to this solo and sends the Soul of Gerontius on his way in a most reassuring way.

There is one change to the line up of soloists that took part in the Prom performance and it’s a significant one. In place of Matthew Best, who sang in 2005, Bryn Terfel sings the two bass solos. This is luxury casting indeed. Terfel is a magisterial Priest. His opening phrases are delivered with all the power and sonority that one would expect from this singer. However, I was delighted to note how, as the aria unfolds, he’s attentive to Elgar’s dynamic markings, which are often quiet, and by so doing he makes the Priest’s words properly prayerful. He’s an imposing Angel of The Agony, singing this dramatic solo quite splendidly. One relishes the sheer amplitude of his voice but, once again, one notes how attentive he is to the dynamic markings – and it makes such a difference. Often I’ve found that a soloist is more suited to one of these two solos than the other but on this occasion Terfel is completely successful in both.

At the Proms performance the Hallé Youth Choir, a mixed-voice choir whose members are aged between twelve and nineteen years, sang the crucial semi chorus parts. Their contribution was important then and I’m delighted to find them similarly involved this time. The involvement of these young singers, for whom this recording must have been a tremendous experience, gives this performance an edge over most of its CD rivals. Benjamin Britten scored a significant coup by using the choir of King’s College, Cambridge as the semi chorus when he recorded Gerontius in 1971 and I wonder if Sir Mark Elder had that precedent in mind. The use of young voices, with their completely different timbre, results in a sharp and very telling contrast and I find the effect is really exciting and atmospheric. The writing for the semi chorus is often extremely exposed but the young Hallé singers rise to the challenge superbly and their fresh, youthful voices add an additional and very welcome dimension to the choral sound. I think their involvement is a major success and I applaud it unreservedly.

Their adult colleagues in the main Hallé Choir are also on top form. They’ve obviously been prepared superbly by their chorus master, James Burton. So, every strand is clear in "Be merciful" and they bring real bite and urgency to "Rescue him." In the Demons’ Chorus their singing is virile and has excellent definition. Perhaps they could have snarled a bit more but it’s an exciting account of the chorus. Equally fine is ‘Praise to the Holiest’ and, towards the end, they are clear, controlled and atmospheric at "Lord, Thou hast been our refuge", never an easy passage to bring off.

The orchestral contribution is, if anything, even finer. From the very start of the Prelude to Part I you sense we’re in for something a bit special. The playing glows here and elsewhere. Dynamics are beautifully observed, the rhythms are well articulated and there’s a consistent feeling that the players are right inside the idiom and playing with belief. Two things are worthy of special comment. Firstly, the engineers have contrived to balance the organ beautifully so that whenever it plays it enriches the textures without being unduly prominent. Secondly, the harp part is hugely important and once again, the instrument is balanced perfectly so that time and again one is aware of its importance yet it never draws unwarranted attention to itself.

But for all the splendour of these contributions the whole is knitted into something much greater than the sum of its parts by Sir Mark Elder. Writing of his Prom performance I suggested that one or two of his tempi were a fraction too fleet. I have no such feelings here. I cannot recall a single bar in the whole score when I felt that the pacing wasn’t just right. Elder has demonstrated in several previous Elgar recordings and performances that he is a master interpreter of this composer. This superb interpretation confirms that judgement in spades. His shaping of the Prelude is masterly and that sets the tone for the whole performance. He is scrupulous in his observance of Elgar’s markings and in many ways that’s the key to success in Elgar performance for the composer was copious in the indications he gave in the score and if a conductor trusts Elgar and follows the markings that’s more than half the battle.

The performance has huge sweep and conviction but there are also many small points that show Elder’s meticulous and perceptive attention to detail. One example comes in the Prelude a couple of bars before cue 17 when the orchestra plays a quiet, stabbing chord, with the gong adding a frisson. Elder places and balances that chord to perfection. Move on to the short, hushed Prelude to Part II, for the strings alone. Elder obtains miraculous, luminous textures from his players and in a mere twenty-six bars he establishes an otherworldly atmosphere, just as Elgar intended. Best of all, at cue 3 the dynamic marking is an incredible pppp. Elder achieves precisely that and the effect is superb. Only one other conductor in my experience has matched this, namely Simon Rattle in his 1986 EMI recording, but to be honest, I think even Rattle is put in the shade at this point. These are very small points in themselves but they catch the ear and show the scrupulous attention to detail that has gone into the preparation of this performance.

Elder, however, is anything but a micro-manager. He is magnificent in the big moments. The end of Part I, after the chorus has joined the bass soloist at "Go, in the name of Angels and Archangels", is brought off expertly. Every strand of Elgar’s many-layered tableau is given its proper weight and the whole passage causes the eyes – or my eyes, at any rate – to prickle, as it should. Even better is the long build up to ‘Praise to the Holiest’. This long passage, after the Angel’s solo "There was a mortal" is challenging, but Elder’s direction is superbly assured. Once again, all the various strands - semi chorus, chorus, orchestra and two soloists - are knitted together perfectly. One thing I admired particularly is the way in which Elder paces the several short sections marked Poco più animato with a vernal eagerness and then observes the decelerations, marked by Elgar, to perfection. Here the ladies of the chorus and the younger ladies in the semi chorus sing with a wide-eyed freshness that is completely appropriate to Angelicals. The whole passage is an unqualified success and Elder builds the tension and the atmosphere so that when the choir erupts at "Praise to the Holiest" it is as if great gold doors have been thrown open to reveal blinding light. Elder handles the ensuing chorus masterfully. The last pages, from cue 94 onwards, are tremendously exciting without recourse to excessive speed as Sakari Oramo does on his CBSO recording (see review). The end of the chorus bids fair to lift the roof off the Bridgewater Hall yet Elder’s forces have more to give and manage to observe the crescendo on the last, long chord. It’s a thrilling moment.

One more example of Elder’s perceptive command of the score and of his forces will suffice. In Part II, starting at cue 114, is the remarkable passage where Gerontius sings, "I go before my Judge", followed by the choir’s muffled entreaties, "Be merciful". Elder distils the most incredible atmosphere in these bars. The music has an awestruck quality that I’ve never heard brought out so well. It sounds as if everyone – Paul Groves, the choirs, the orchestra – is on tenterhooks, scarcely daring to articulate the notes. It’s the most remarkable piece of music making imaginable.

So how can I sum up this recording? I think it’s a remarkable achievement and I have been greatly moved by hearing it. Paul Groves and Alice Coote both deliver very fine performances. I feel that both gave a little more in terms of spontaneity during the Proms performance, inspired by the presence of an audience. On the other hand, under studio conditions they achieve some subtle points that were not possible in the huge arena that is the Royal Albert Hall. Bryn Terfel is a superb addition to the cast. The choirs and orchestra are on inspired form and Sir Mark Elder confirms that he is the finest Elgar interpreter now before the public. Under his inspired leadership the white-hot inspiration of Elgar’s visionary score comes alive.

The performance is captured in excellent, atmospheric sound. The recording doesn’t quite have the punch and presence of the Oramo recording but it’s not far short in terms of immediacy. The forces are splendidly and truthfully balanced and the whole project is a great success for the engineers. The notes are by Michael Kennedy and up to that fine writer’s usual immaculate standard.

It has been well worth the wait for this recording. For over forty years Sir John Barbirolli’s great 1964 recording of Gerontius has dominated the catalogue. I’m sure he would rejoice that, in their 150th anniversary year, his beloved Hallé and their distinguished current Music Director have produced a worthy successor and one that offers irrefutable proof that the Elgar tradition of the Hallé is being maintained in the twenty-first century. Let us hope that Sir Mark will go on to give us new and equally fine recordings of Apostles and Kingdom but even if that doesn’t happen they have done Elgar proud with this distinguished recording which I have found to be a very moving experience.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

"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

BBC Music Magazine: Recording of the Year and Choral Winner of the year: 2013.

Performed beautifully. Everyone is on quite spectacular form.

The 2011/12 season was a memorable one for the Hallé and its Music Director Sir Mark Elder who was celebrating his twelfth season with the Manchester based orchestra. What was for me a rather uninspiring Beethoven cycle was overshadowed by three unforgettable performances that will serve to increase the Hallé Orchestra’s burgeoning international reputation. In November 2011 the Bridgewater audience were treated to John Adams’s Harmonium for chorus and orchestra (1980/81) a setting of poems by John Donne and Emily Dickinson. Next, in collaboration with the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester, in April 2012 Sir Mark took the Hallé into the pit at the Lowry Theatre, Salford Quays for a spellbinding production of Bernstein’s feel-good musical Wonderful Town starring actress/singer Connie Fisher. Back home at the Bridgwater Hall on 5 May 2012 we were treated to this inspirational performance of Elgar’s The Apostles. Dedicated ‘ To the Greater Glory of God’ The Apostles is a large-scale two part oratorio for soloists, choir and orchestra written in the English choral tradition. Elgar selected his own texts from the Bible and the Apocrypha. Elgar himself introduced the oratorio at the Birmingham Triennial Festival in 1903.
 
I was present that Saturday May evening reporting on The Apostles for Seen and Heard International and this review is essentially based on that report. Together with a number of friends we had travelled down to witness a performance that will live long in the memory. Thankfully the Hallé’s performance under Sir Mark was recorded together with a rehearsal for patching purposes. As expected the performance was taken extremely seriously and far more hours than normally allocated for rehearsal were clocked up.
 
Prior to the start there was an uplifting feeling of keen anticipation in the packed hall. It’s a shame that the listener not present on the night cannot also share that sense of expectancy. Eschewing histrionics, one hardly noticed Sir Mark on the podium, just getting on with the job of directing this substantial work. This was a highly assured account all the more impressive given the task of bringing the massed forces together in a coherent way. I particularly admired the unerring control of the massive dynamic extremes with tempi that felt judicious. Potency and beautifully incisive playing demonstrated the orchestra’s ascendant prowess.
 
In radiant voice the choirs made a significant contribution to the evening’s success. This was matched in passionate commitment by the sextet of well chosen soloists. Standing out magnificently was Jacques Imbrailo as Jesus. He solidly projected his richly mellow and expressive timbre with immense purpose. A fine choice as the First Narrator/John was Paul Groves who was notable for his steady bright and clear diction. Brindley Sherratt’s Judas was well powered, polished and authoritative. Although acceptable bass-baritone David Kempster in the role of Peter at times became rather swamped by the choir and orchestra and would have benefited from a greater amplitude and clearer diction. Rebecca Evans as the Angel Gabriel/Virgin Mary was bright with a moderately warm sound and sang with affecting piety. Evans’ vibrato was noticeable but never intruded. Mezzo-soprano Alice Coote as Mary Magdalene/Second Narrator has a substantial amount of text to sing. She was in glorious, reverential voice, well projected throughout.
 
Right from the orchestral Prelude to the scene The Calling of the Apostles the choir intoning the words from St. Luke’s Gospel To preach the acceptable year of the Lord sent a shiver down the spine. We were left in no doubt but that we had embarked on a visionary journey. The programme notes for the concert asserted that a genuine shofar player had been found. This caused much discussion amongst many audience members and subsequently on internet message boards. If people expected a traditional Hebrew Ram’s horn instrument that wasn’t what soloist Bob Farley played. From my seat it looked like a crossbreed of some sort of long straight brass trumpet that I would guess was around 6ft long becoming slightly angled just before the start of the bell. Nevertheless the playing, by the soloist positioned at the side of the hall, made a splendid impact both sonically and theatrically. The shofar can be heard to memorable effect at the start of CD 1 track 3.
 
At the beginning of Part 2 the solemn orchestral Introduction to the scene of The Betrayal of Christ was remarkable, with the doom-laden brass being lightened by the strings and winds then darkening again with all the drama of a Puccini opera. Depicting the crucifixion, the disturbing Golgotha section featured weighty orchestral textures especially the shadowy-toned brass and percussion. The electrifying final section The Ascension of Christ to heaven in his resurrected body required all the forces uniting in a colossal Alleluia. This was one of the most moving things I’ve experienced in classical music.
 
Released on the Hallé’s own label I found the sound quality of the Hallé/Elder disc highly satisfying. To the infuriation of many audience members an errant clapper virtually instantaneously at the end of both halves ruined the special moments of contemplation. Thankfully I can report that the patching session has successfully removed the unwanted racket. Michael Kennedy’s booklet notes are as authoritative as I would expect from this Elgar scholar. It’s good to see that a full libretto is included in the booklet. Some incorrect numbering against the part two text is the only glitch I found with this issue.
 
The rival recordings of The Apostles include the digitally re-mastered analogue 1973/74 account from the Kingsway Hall, London under the baton of Sir Adrian Boult with the London Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir on EMI. Then there’s the 1990 digital recording from St. Jude on the Hill, Hampstead, London by the London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus under Richard Hickox on Chandos. Both are very fine performances. Of the two I favour the Boult/EMI for its splendid singing and sense of reverential awe. On the down-side Boult’s singers may sound dated to some listeners and the LPO’s distinctive bottom-heavy sound can be off-putting. On balance the recording of The Apostles that I will reach out for the most will be this new Hallé release. It’s performed beautifully throughout and achieves an otherwise elusive spirituality. Everyone is on quite spectacular form. If proof were needed of the importance of The Apostles then this release is the evidence.
 
-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

This performance of Elgar's Enigma Variations forms an historic account of the first concert Sir Georg Solti conducted as Chief conductor of the LPO in 1975. It is also the first DVD release with Solti performing Elgar's Symphony No.2. Solti, who prepared new works by listening to Elgar's own recordings, identified closely with his music. The virtuoso playing of the orchestra combined with his fresh, energetic approach make for an exciting, uplifting experience. The ICA Classics Legacy series presents a collection of historic performances by some of the world's greatest artists. These performances are released on DVD for the first time, incorporating rare archive footage that has been expertly and lovingly restored.

Edward Elgar:
Symphony No. 2 in E flat major, Op. 63
Variations on an Original Theme, Op. 36, "Enigma"

London Philharmonic Orchestra
Georg Solti, conductor

Recorded at the Royal Festival Hall, London, 13 February 1975
(Symphony No. 2), and 25 September 1979 (Enigma)

Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: LPCM Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Running time: 84 mins
No. of DVDs: 1

Elgar: Symphony No. 2

The Philharmonia Orchestra is widely recognised as the UK's finest orchestra with an impressive recording legacy, this being their ninth release with Signum Records. This disc combines the Philharmonia's renowned sound with the leadership of Maestro Davis, whose recording and performing career spans through all the great orchestras of the world.

Elgar: String Quartet - Piano Quintet

The Music Makers is the Elgarian equivalent of Bach's Magnificat: it does everything that one of the composer's choral works ought to do, but in a comparatively short span of time. So if the thought of slogging through Gerontius or The Apostles (never mind Caractacus or The Light of Life) horrifies you, but you still recognize the fact that amid the padding there's very good music waiting to be enjoyed, then The Music Makers represents the perfect pick. Granted, there's the perennial plethora of positively putrid purported poetry ("With wonderful deathless ditties," etc.), but no matter. The Bournemouth Symphony Chorus can sound unruly and ill-balanced, but not here, and Simon Wright paces the work ideally. Still a comparative rarity in the Elgar discography, this warmly engineered and vivid performance should win the piece some new friends.

Sea Pictures, Elgar's only orchestral song-cycle, is a lovely work whose history on disc can be summed up in two words: Baker/Barbirolli. It requires a soloist with a wide expressive (and dynamic) range, able to embrace the music's many moods--from the simplicity of Sea Slumber-Song, to the intimacy of In Haven, to the heroic "nobilmente" of The Swimmer. Janet Baker's beautifully focused tone and emotional sincerity continues to dominate the competition, and she even manages to make you almost forget the resemblance between the last number's refrain and "Hello Dolly"--no mean achievement. Sarah Connolly is hardly less successful. She scales down her ample voice very effectively in the gentler numbers but rides the orchestra like a Navy Seal on a mission in The Swimmer. You may find yourself fighting the urge to salute.

Wright's accompaniments are wholly sympathetic, as fine as Barbirolli's and unsurprisingly more brilliantly captured than on the old EMI release. The Bournemouth orchestra also plays very well throughout, sounding as comfortable in this music as Sir John's LSO. An excellent disc, then, particularly for those who like their Elgar in smallish doses.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The latest release in Hallé’s award winning Elgar Edition features the much anticipated studio recording of Sea Pictures, coupled with the lesser known tone poem Polonia and the five original Pomp and Circumstance Marches.

Premiered in 1899, shortly after the triumph of the Enigma Variations in London the previous month, Sea Pictures became an immediate hit (with two of the songs being performed with piano accompaniment for Queen Victoria at Balmoral two weeks after the premiere). The cycle of five songs for which Elgar selected a variety of poems from his wide knowledge of literature, features a range of masterly orchestral textures and stunning vocal settings.

The featured soloist is world renowned mezzo soprano Alice Coote, regarded as one of the leading artists of our day, equally famed on the great operatic stages as in concert and recital.

Polonia has long been overlooked but this recording will re-establish this highly engaging tone poem which quotes Polish tunes and Chopin, written as a tribute to Poland’s contribution to the Allied cause in the First World War, in a brilliantly orchestrated score.

Not all of the five original Pomp and Circumstance Marches are as universally well known as No.1 and No.4 and, although constructed on the same structural pattern, they display an extraordinary variety of character. These orchestral showcases are a perfect vehicle with which to display the technical and artistic skill of the Hallé under Elder.

"If I can't complete the Third Symphony, somebody will complete it--or write a better one--in 50 or 500 years," Elgar told his doctor upon discovering he had inoperable cancer. It was 38 years later when Elgar's sketches captivated Anthony Payne and started him thinking about completing the symphony. Starting with partially completed movements and random scraps of paper containing musical ideas, Payne extrapolated, expanded, and completed a very Elgarian sounding symphony. To be sure, this is not the great work one would expect following Elgar's First and Second--the original and distinctive ideas are there, but Elgar had not been able to order them into their final relationship before illness overtook him. Payne was thus faced with the task of compiling and composing the development and recapitulation of the first and last movements, extrapolating the second half of the adagio, and fleshing out and expanding the scherzo.

The symphony begins with a brief, bold, seafaring introduction (sounding interestingly like Puccini) that leads to the main march tune in 12/8. The spirit of the Pomp and Circumstance marches hovers over this theme and the beautifully lyrical melody that follows. While the development lacks those unexpected flashes of genius that marked the earlier symphonies, Payne makes the inspired gesture of recalling the second symphony's ascending chromatic scale at the movement's conclusion. The scherzo reminds us of Falstaff with its tambourine-colored, gypsy dance tune, but the subsequent material is not as strong and it outstays its welcome. The adagio sounds more like Vaughan Williams than Elgar in its opening bars, and its primary mood is one of desolation, relieved by an elegiac secondary theme. The finale bristles with excitement, recalling the air of the Cockaigne Overture. The coda, which Payne had to compose with no help from Elgar, ends the symphony in glorious pageantry before fading away with a final, rather un-Elgarian stroke on the tam-tam.

Paul Daniel and the Bournemouth Symphony play with plenty of verve and swagger, making a stronger case for this work than Andrew Davis and the BBC Symphony on NMC (its premiere recording). The recorded sound is full and well detailed. At the Naxos price, those curious about Elgar's last symphony need not hesitate.

--Victor Carr, ClassicsToday.com

The bonbons on this collection of “Orchestral Miniatures” have little to engage your intellect or emotions; but when played well, they can have the same kind of insinuating (although far from infectious) charm found in Victorian advertising circulars. They’re certainly played well by Judd and the New Zealanders, who—with their tasteful tempo-pulling and their sweet but never clingy string slides—convey the innocent spirit and velveteen textures with a remarkable period flavor. There’s snap and bluffness where required—say, in the first of the Characteristic Pieces or the beery conclusion to the Bavarian Dances. But for the most part, a light touch, even an intimacy, colors the music-making here. The Romance for Bassoon moves a bit further away from the palm court, but it looks back to the two Chansons more than it looks sideways to its contemporary, the Second Symphony—and its nostalgia, too, is eloquently captured.

Froissart, Elgar’s first truly Elgarian orchestral work, is the joker in this pack: at nearly a quarter of an hour it’s hardly a miniature; more important, it breaks free from the salon sensibility of the other repertoire on the disc. Judd’s acumen here is, if anything, even sharper. In lesser hands, Froissart can sound like a lumpy and ill-integrated piece, one in which the forward-looking ideas haven’t quite been digested; but Judd manages to make it work—not by seeking to unify its ideas, but rather by heightening its contradictions. The opening 45 seconds or so set out the general approach. The hard, bright, sharply profiled opening leads you to expect a tough modernist reading; but in a bold stroke of interpretive alchemy, the ground shifts and the musical landscape is transformed by an infusion of rubato and portamento that seems the product of a different aesthetic world entirely. And so it goes, as Judd plays up contrasts of color, dynamics, and tempo in ways that always keep us on the edge. Those looking for a smooth ride may be disconcerted—but few performances I know so clearly elucidate the music’s bifurcated character.

It’s not clear why the Minuet has been interpolated into the middle of the Characteristic Pieces, but otherwise the production is fine. All in all, a more interesting CD than might at first appear. Warmly recommended.

FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz

ELGAR Quadrilles: Die junge Kokette; L’Assomoir; La brunette; Paris; A Singing Quadrille. The Valentine: Five Lancers. Polkas: Maud; Nelly; La Blonde; Helcia; Blumine. Menuetto. Andante and Allegro for Oboe and String Trio. Duett for Trombone and Double Bass. Fugue for Oboe and Violin • Barry Collett, cond; Innovation C Ens; Zoë Beyers (vn); Louise Williams (va); Richard Jenkinson (vc); John Tattersdill (db); Victoria Brawn (ob); Duncan Wilson (trb) • SOMM 252 (76:59)


Back in the 19th century, music therapy was important in a number of what were then called “lunatic asylums.” Gottschalk used to play, with great enthusiasm, at an institution in Utica, New York. And in 1879, the young Elgar was given a position as “Bandmaster” at the Powick Asylum, a couple of miles outside Worcester. His job was to compose dance music for the inmates—and this recording apparently gathers up all the quadrilles, lancers, and polkas that still survive, in editions by Andrew Lyle (who, along with Barry Collett, is also responsible for filling out the sketch score of A Singing Quadrille ).


Given Elgar’s relative inexperience (he was no prodigy), given the utilitarian function of the music, given the seedy, hodge-podge orchestration (limited to friends and colleagues, his ensemble—according to Lyle’s scrupulous notes—consisted of a few violins sometimes supplemented by a viola, a cello, a bass, a piccolo, a flute, a clarinet, two cornets, a euphonium, a bombardon, and a piano) … given the circumstances, you wouldn’t expect to this to be first-rate music. And it isn’t. Nor, despite a measure or two here and there that look ahead, does it give us much sense of the composer to come. If, hearing it without identification, you were asked to guess the origins of the first dance in Die junge Kokette , you’d be apt to guess it a minor chip off Sullivan’s workbench before you’d assign it to Elgar; much of the rest is more anonymous still. Even so, the music—more vital, rhythmically, than much of Elgar’s early output—is dotted with attractive tunes and artful harmonic turns. There are also a fair share of whimsical musical references: The last dance in the set of lancers seems to hint at Gaudeamus Igitur , just as L’Assomoir (Elgar’s misspelling) sounds momentarily as if it were a cousin to Gounod’s Funeral March for a Marionette —and A Singing Quadrille is overtly, and very shrewdly, based on pre-existing material, including nursery rhymes. The disc is filled out with a few chamber works that were not written for Powick—the most interesting is the wacky 1887 “duett” (Elgar’s spelling again) for trombone and double bass, a cheeky minute or so during which the composer delights (as Stravinsky was to do much later in Pulcinella ) in the sheer absurdity of the combination.


Nothing here is especially deep: If the title of L’Assomoir refers to Zola, the music assuredly doesn’t. As a result, you might not want to listen carefully to this whole disc straight through. Still, in small doses, or as background music, it’s got plenty of charm—and this is obviously the place to turn if you’re interested in getting to know it. Yes, Collett recorded most of this music with the Rutland Sinfonia a quarter-century ago. But that disc, which I’ve not heard, is long out of print; and the remakes, based on the new Elgar edition and featuring a snappy group drawn from the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, are as idiomatic as you could want. Add to this the fine engineering and the presence of three first recordings (the Menuetto , the Andante and Allegro , and A Singing Quadrille ), and you have a disc that should attract the more avid of Fanfare ’s Elgarians.


FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz

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

Dating from his years of 'apprenticeship', these two works shaped Elgar's reputation as a leading orchestrator and most popular British composer of his time. The secular cantata Scenes from the Saga of King Olaf derives from Longfellow's epic poem about Olaf Tryggvason, who became King of Norway in 995. While the text was heavily adapted and augmented, the use of sophisticated compositional techniques, such as extensive motivic work, resulted in music of great power and solemnity. The ballad The Banner of Saint George is based on the story of Saint George of Cappadocia, as related by the Bristol poet Shapcott Wensley. It was commissioned by Britain's leading publisher, Novello, and composed in only one month in 1896. Elgar overcame the prescriptive nature of the words and produced a work of lasting charm, the music rising above the material to create atmosphere, momentum, and color.

Reviews:

What a nice idea it was to have a Norwegian choir and orchestra performing English music about a Norse hero. The combined Norwegian choirs sing very well indeed in both works, and the Bergen Philharmonic plays with verve and distinction. Sir Andrew Davis is just the man for these assignments.

– MusicWeb International

There's nothing stilted about Elgar's music: it crackles with confident vitality...the Norwegian choruses respond with crisp vigor and superb English diction, only faintly (and appropriately) Scandinavian-tinged. Davis's expansive conducting and the excellent Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra bring out Elgar's vivid orchestral textures.

– BBC Music Magazine

Drawn from across the composer's lengthy career, this collection of Part-Songs and Choral Works explores the great variety and range within Elgar's work for choir and voices. Along with more well-known works such as Love and Deep in my Soul there are early pieces such as O Salutaris hostia (composed for small amateur choirs) that give hints of his later mature style, through to the 1928 piece I sing the Birth - a work that shows Elgar's ability to adapt to more contemporary styles of 20th-century choral composition. The Rodolfus Choir have established themselves as one of the leading youth choirs in Britain, made up of singers aged from 16 to 25 who have been chosen from past and present members of the Eton Choral Courses for prospective choral scholars. Many members of the Choir are choral scholars, some are at music college, and most hope to make a career in music. The Rodolfus Choir and Ralph Allwood are well-known for imaginative programming, and for presenting new music. The Rodolfus Choir's recent CD recordings with Signum include music as diverse as Howells, Monteverdi, Grier, Tallis and the German Romantics. 'One can only marvel at the group's remarkable collective skill and cohesion' fanfare magazine