The shifting, shimmering palette of orchestral timbres.

In these three symphonies, the attributes of William Alwyn's symphonic writing that I noted in reviewing Lyrita's previous installment are once more clearly recognizable. There's the building of movements through a progression of through-composed episodes, rather than an adherence to conventional forms; the use of short melodic and rhythmic motifs, rather than of full-fledged "tunes", sometimes in conjunction with a series of short-term tonal centers; the shifting, shimmering palette of orchestral timbres.
 
Listening to the present program with these features already in mind, I began to notice that, while Alwyn's harmonic language is unquestionably late-Romantic, the effect is not really "lush", in, say, the Rachmaninov manner. The music hits the ear pleasingly, but the music's seriousness of demeanour and intent militates against anything quite so frivolous as taking sheer pleasure in the admittedly attractive sounds.
 
In the single-movement Fifth Symphony, subtitled after Sir Thomas Browne's 1658 book, the composer parlays that seriousness into a sense of struggle - the prevailing grimness is a far cry from the amiable pastoral musings associated with British symphonists. Indeed, the anxious, edgy opening and the brooding, restless theme beginning at 3:44 cast Alwyn as a sort of English Shostakovich! Even in the violins' broad, cautiously optimistic statement near the symphony's close, the seemingly joyful pealing of trumpets actually produces a vague ambivalence that undercuts the affirmation. Annotator Trevor Hold hears the music as "fall[ing] into four clearly-defined sections, corresponding to the normal symphonic movements," but you couldn't prove it by me; as before, it's easier if the listener simply accepts the various episodes in turn, letting them generate their own structural logic.
 
Tensile drama also marks much of the Third Symphony, immediately reflected in the first movement's incisive, repeated-note string motifs and scurrying woodwinds; the music opens briefly into a lyrical theme which abruptly gets short-circuited by the more rhythmically active material. The Poco adagio begins cautiously - the music, not the performance - in light, diversely coloured textures; later brass interjections signal a growing into greater turbulence. Some passages in that movement suggest a more austere version of Holst's "Venus"; Thomas Mann, in the booklet, cites the more obvious resemblance to that composer's "Mars" in the finale's bold ostinatos. Those ostinatos continue behind the more legato second group; and, rarely for Alwyn, the music opens into an actual broad, lyric episode at 8:32.
 
In the Second Symphony, the composer uses his rich harmonic idiom to conjure searching, fragmentary effects. Each of its two movements begins in a dynamic, turbulent mood that eventually subsides into quiet, if not exactly calm. The climax of the second movement brings a sense of uplift, but, as in the corresponding passage in the Fifth, subsidiary elements of the texture compromise and contradict that uplift.
 
As in the earlier coupling of the First and Fourth Symphonies, the composer's own direction is authoritative, balancing the lovely sonorities and projecting the elusive structures with a sure hand. Only the brass interjections in the Third's finale briefly cause momentum to falter. The London Philharmonic plays handsomely, its positive sense of purpose outweighing passing moments of tentative coordination.
 
The engineering is often excellent. In the opening movement of the Second, the bassoons - used by Alwyn as a sort of "motivic timbre," analogous to the thematic motifs of the Wagnerians - register with a buzzy presence; the brass choir is deep and resplendent; clarinets are liquid; and there's plenty of air around the instrumental groups. As the brass become more active, however, the hard edge I noted on SRCD.227 returns, with the textures turning slightly opaque.  

-- Stephen Francis Vasta, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

British mezzo-soprano Diana Moore has established herself as a firm favorite with audiences on both sides of the Atlantic, acclaimed for her unique voice which ‘combines the range of a mezzo with the tone quality of a contralto’ (Gramophone) – has led to repeat engagements with many of the world's leading music ensembles, and frequent collaborations with eminent conductors.

Roderick Williams is one of the most sought after baritones of his generation with a wide repertoire spanning baroque to contemporary which he performs in opera, concert and recital. He enjoys relationships with all the major UK opera houses. He performs regularly with leading conductors and orchestras throughout the UK, Europe, North America and Australia, and his many festival appearances include the BBC Proms, Edinburgh, Cheltenham, Aldeburgh and Melbourne.

Acclaimed for his "radiantly lyrical" voice, Irish tenor Robin Tritschler has garnered praise from critics and audiences for his performances. He graduated from the Royal Academy of Music and was a BBC New Generation Artist. Robin has appeared with many leading orchestras, and in recital with leading accompanists. He has performed in multiple roles for the Welsh National Opera, and made his debut with the Royal Opera, Covent Garden in Wozzeck, and with Garsington Opera as Ferrando.

John Reid‘s career to date has shown him to be a pianist of notable versatility and range, with wide experience as an outstanding chamber musician, song accompanist, soloist and exponent of new music. Increasingly in demand as a teacher, he is a professor at the Royal Academy of Music in London. Much in demand as a guest pianist with a number of other leading ensembles.

Check out the full 4-CD version of this release!

A selection of Daniel Jones’s piano music taken from the 4-album release SRCD2396. Martin Jones has been one of Britain’s most highly regarded solo pianists since first coming to international attention in 1968 when he received the Dame Myra Hess Award. The same year he made his London debut at the Queen Elizabeth Hall and his New York debut at Carnegie Hall, and ever since has been in demand for recitals and concerto performances in Europe, Russia, Australia, Canada, North & South America. He has made over 90 recordings with Nimbus Records exploring music that is not often played including the complete works of 18 composers. This year will see the release of 4 discs of newly discovered manuscripts of Daniel Jones. Also, together with Adrian Farmer, 3 discs of French music for 4 hands. During next year, as well as giving concerts, he will complete 3 discs of the first recordings of all the piano works of Elizabeth Lutyens for Resonus Records, and continue his American Piano Series with Volumes 6 & 7 for Prova Recordings which will include several new works especially written for him, and, for Nimbus a collection of Brazilian music by Mignone, Gnatalli & Lorenzo-Fernandez.

Martin Jones has been one of Britain’s most highly regarded solo pianists since first coming to international attention in 1968 when he received the Dame Myra Hess Award. The same year he made his London debut at the Queen Elizabeth Hall and his New York debut at Carnegie Hall, and ever since has been in demand for recitals and concerto performances in Europe, Russia, Australia, Canada, North & South America. He has made over 90 recordings with Nimbus Records exploring music that is not often played including the complete works of 18 composers. This year will see the release of 4 discs of newly discovered manuscripts of Daniel Jones. Also, together with Adrian Farmer, 3 discs of French music for 4 hands. During next year, as well as giving concerts, he will complete 3 discs of the first recordings of all the piano works of Elizabeth Lutyens for Resonus Records, and continue his American Piano Series with Volumes 6 & 7 for Prova Recordings which will include several new works especially written for him, and, for Nimbus a collection of Brazilian music by Mignone, Gnatalli & Lorenzo-Fernandez.

Check out the 1-CD compilation based on this recording!

REVIEW

Dylan Thomas described his friend Daniel Jones as playing the piano and announcing gravely “My twentieth sonata…this one is Homage to Beethoven.” For many years I and most other readers assumed a degree of satirical exaggeration in this description; those of us who knew the music of the composer were aware that he had written very little for the piano apart from his admittedly substantial collection of brief Bagatelles, certainly not a whole score of piano sonatas. But, as it now transpires, Daniel Jones’s statements were as wildly at variance with the truth as Dylan Thomas’s. Martin Jones has unearthed in the music archives as the National Library of Wales a vast output of piano music written in the period 1933 to 1949 – and it clear that what is included in this collection of four very full discs is far from the whole of the body of music involved.

[Let] us be truly thankful and grateful for the investigative work of Martin Jones and Adrian Farmer who have unearthed these gems and brought them to our attention. And especially to the indefatigable Martin Jones, whose exploits in the field of rare and unknown piano music have produced so many other revelations over the years. His performances here, as indeed we would expect, have life, engagement and agility; it is clear that the composer himself must have been no mean shakes as a pianist in his younger years, but even he cannot have expected such a demonstration of skill and prowess as we find time and again on these discs. The recorded sound too, as we would also expect from the Wyastone Leys studio, is excellent. The carefully considered layout between discs is admirable, with the larger works separated by miniatures to produce an order suitable for continuous listening without fatigue. And the presentation – a sixteen-page booklet packed with invaluable and indeed unique information – is all that one could wish for.

--MusicWeb International (Paul Corfield Godfrey)

The story of Elias Parish Alvars (1808-49) is a journey from obscurity, ascending to something of an international celebrity. He was dubbed ‘the Franz Liszt of the harp’ by none other than Hector Berlioz (1803-69), who was repeatedly spellbound by concerts Alvars gave in Germany. This sorcerer of the harp (and equally phenomenal pianist) received patronage from the aristocracy and royalty of Europe throughout his short-lived career. A favorite artist at the internationally-renowned Husum Festival of Piano Rarities in Germany, Steinway Artist Simon Callaghan’s recent sell-out recital drew praise from audience and critics, with the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung describing his “cleverly curated recital full of discoveries” (VAN Magazine) as “technically brilliant”. Callaghan’s current repertoire includes over fifty concertos, highlights of the standard solo and chamber works of the 19th and 20th centuries, and much that is rare and unexplored. One cornerstone of Callaghan’s work is his commitment to British music, and he has recently begun a projected series with Lyrita, presenting world premiere recordings of British concertos with Martyn Brabbins and the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Irish pianist Clíodna Shanahan is much in demand internationally as a soloist, chamber and orchestral musician. She performs regularly with London Sinfonietta, London Philharmonic Orchestra, Britten Sinfonia, and the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. Her great passion for 20th century and contemporary music has led to many composer-collaborations, world premières and first recordings.

“The words, with the exception of the Canticle of The Creatures, are settings of almost unknown poems by St Francis of Assisi. They cover a wide expressive and emotional range: from hope to despair, longing to acceptance, love to bitterness, delight in Creation to an impassioned plea for peace amongst mankind. The cantata is no pious word-setting of an ancient saint – rather it is a passionate and vibrant evocation of a man who remains a symbol of hope for millions of all faiths and none. Vison of a Garden - In 2020 I spent nearly five months in hospital with Covid-19, and was in an intensive care unit for more than half that time. In October, when I went back to the hospital for a check-up, I was given two booklets called ‘ICU Diaries’ which contained messages of support written by the nurses who looked after me in intensive care. I find it astonishing that these people whom I never knew could write such warm and personal messages. The text that the choir sings in ‘Vision of a Garden’ is taken from their words. I have plentiful memories from my time in intensive care, but they are almost all false ones: things which my mind invented to keep itself occupied while my body was otherwise engaged in fighting the virus… In the center of the Addenbrooke’s Hospital complex in Cambridge there is a little garden, which is a lovely oasis of peace amid the hospital bustle. As I now know, I was taken to this garden from the ICU a couple of times in May, to get the benefit of the fresh air and sunshine. I wasn’t consciously aware of this, but my subconscious transplanted the garden to Cape Town and incorporated it into my ‘South African dream’…" (Peter Johnstone)

Smaller concertos for piano and modest orchestral forces were a feature of British composition in the first half of the 20th century. Often they were written for a special occasion, and typically vanished into oblivion thereafter. During the COVID period we were looking for things to record with small numbers of players, and stumbled across this treasury: short concertos written for entertainment that don’t outstay their welcome. The works on this album travel from the innocent pastiche of Geoffrey Bush’s tribute to Arne, Edmund Rubbra’s student essay, through the ‘Blues’ of Arthur Benjamin, the serial language of Humphrey Searle, the drama of Elizabeth Maconchy, and the bold humour of film composer John Addison. It is all great fun, and has never been recorded - apart from the Benjamin recorded just once, back in 1959.  Simon Callaghan and Martyn Brabbins team-up to raise a smile, enjoying the lighter side of musical life.

A fine example of Jones at his most succinct and incisive, the Twelfth Symphony (1985) was commissioned by the Civil and Public Services Association as a farewell gift to their retiring General Secretary, Ken Thomas The Twelfth Symphony was first performed by the BBC Welsh Symphony Orchestra and conductor Erich Bergel at a gala concert at St David's Hall, Cardiff on 26 September 1985. The score bears a superscription consisting of a brief quotation from Pushkin, which reads 'Yet one last tale, And my chronicle is ended'. Daniel Jones's Symphony in memory of John Fussell (Symphony No.13) (1992) was first performed by the BBC Welsh Symphony Orchestra and conductor Richard Hickox at the Brangwyn Hall, Swansea on 17 October 1992 at that year's Swansea Festival. The work is a personal tribute to a friend of the composer, who was Swansea's Director of Music and City Organist from 1970 until 1990, the year of his death. The cantata Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life (1987) was written in memory of John Aeron-Thomas, whose widow Margaret commissioned the work. A devout Christian, John Aeron-Thomas had been a founder-member of the Swansea Festival, who commissioned Jones's First Symphony. among other works. The text is taken from poetry by George Herbert (1593-1633), which details his sacred journey.

This boxed set reassembles largely analog material from existing Lyrita CDs under a new generic grouping. Dates and locations of recording sessions are not given. Lyrita seem always to have been reticent about those details. The sound is a model of its kind – Lyrita were always able to boast glorious sound.

The freshly written liner-notes are by the authoritative and accessible Paul Conway and run to ten pages. These are not a simple retread of the original notes by other authors.

The String Concertos range far and wide. The Coleridge-Taylor is a treasure - full of Dvo?ákian melody and incident. The Holst Invocation is almost as moody as the Rubbra Soliloquy, the dark-clouded atmosphere of which you could cut with a machete. Finzi's Introit was salvaged from a disowned Violin Concerto, and it's the best thing in it by a long chalk. The two Holst works are from his appealingly chattery neo-classical years although the lovely Lyric Movement for viola has a yearning core. Busch's Cello Concerto is from the other half of the CD that yielded the Piano Concerto on SRCD2345. The Moeran Violin Concerto has been following me around this year. I have heard it three times live and several times recorded. Its touching slow-fast-slow movement scheme is most adroitly handled by Georgiadis and Handley in what was the work's first commercial recording from circa 1979. CDs 3 and 4 require stiffened sinews for the modernistic Violin Concertos by Gerhard, Fricker, Morgan and Banks. Even the Serenata Concertante for violin and orchestra by Maconchy will not let you off the hook lightly. We end with a roar and a flourish in Hoddinott's typically titled and expressed Nocturnes and Cadenzas for cello and orchestra from 1969.

– Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Includes work(s) by Arnold Bax. Ensembles: New Philharmonia Orchestra, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. Conductors: Norman Del Mar, Vernon Handley.

BAX Symphonies: No. 2; 1 No. 5 2 • Myer Fredman, cond; 1 Raymond Leppard, cond; 2 London PO • LYRITA 233 (78:28)


Lyrita’s versions of Bax’s First, Second, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Symphonies were, in my opinion, the most important recordings in their catalog, especially at the time of their release, because they introduced the remarkable output of a major symphonist to American listeners for the first time in modern sound. Three complete recorded cycles of Bax’s symphonies conducted by Vernon Handley and Bryden Thomson (Chandos) and David Lloyd-Jones (Naxos) have followed. This album containing the Second and Fifth Symphonies completes the CD release of Lyrita’s Bax Symphonies. The long wait has been worth it. First of all, the CD represents an incredible value, with two major symphonies adding up to nearly 80 minutes of music. In the Second Symphony, Bax calls for a huge orchestra including piano, organ, and a large but subtly applied percussion section. For the most part, aside from a few brief lyrical passages, the music sounds angry and threatening. The discrete and sparing use of the organ is dramatically effective. In the second movement, the organ pedal underlines the dark atmosphere before the luminous closing chords. At the climax of the third movement, Bax briefly unleashes the full power of the organ in a terrifying outburst that has to make you speculate as to what it means. The music then fades to a desolate conclusion marked niente (“nothing”).


The Fifth Symphony is dedicated to Sibelius. The opening theme is nearly a direct quote from the second movement of Sibelius’s Fifth Symphony. Bax then essentially evolves the thematic material of the whole symphony out of that single motific kernel. In the second movement, he briefly hints at expanding the Sibelius fragment into a lush Baxian melody, but the mood is transient. The third movement is a brilliantly orchestrated set of variations that culminates in Bax’s only fortissimo epilogue dominated by massed brass playing the motto theme. So, the Fifth Symphony is dedicated to Sibelius, nearly quotes a theme by Sibelius, is perhaps influenced by Sibelius, but ultimately sounds like Bax and no one else.


Myer Fredman and Raymond Leppard match Vernon Handley in his fine Chandos set at every point in these performances, but this Lyrita release has no peer because of its sound. The Second and Fifth Symphonies were respectively recorded in 1970 and 1971 in Walthamstow Hall in London. The engineers (Kenneth Wilkinson and Stanley Goodall) provide a nearly perfect reproduction of Bax’s unique and highly personal sound world. Dynamic range is massive, but there is no harshness or sense of strain. Instrumental balances are outstanding and there is no artificial spotlighting of individual instruments. The overall texture is lean and muscular, but it is rich and seductively sweet when necessary, as at the end of the second movement of the Symphony No. 2. This recording is clearly Want List material, along with the incomparable Bax Sixth Symphony on Lyrita 296 ( Fanfare: 31:5).


FANFARE: Arthur Lintgen

Paul Conway writes: “One of Musgrave’s most powerfully expressive and lavishly intricate vocal works, Rorate Coeli (1973) is scored for unaccompanied SATB choir. There are also five soloists (SSATB), who sing both as a quintet and as individuals. This dramatic and virtuosic piece shows an inventive approach to text-setting in its use of quasi-improvised musical effects. The Voices of our Ancestors (2014) is scored for brass quintet (horn, two trumpets, trombone and tuba), organ and SATB choir. Substantial and ambitious, The Voices of our Ancestors draws upon ancient texts from a number of linguistic sources, including Arabic, Persian, Hebrew, Latin, Greek, Egyptian and Chinese, all translated into English. Commissioned by Wells Cathedral, Missa Brevis, for SATB choir and organ (2017) was first performed by Wells Cathedral Choir, on the Feast of John the Baptist, Sunday 24 June 2018, in the presence of the composer. This compact setting of the Ordinary of the Mass has a reassuring, positive character with several of the sections concluding brightly on major chords.”

Robert Simpson wrote his Fifth Symphony in 1972 in response to a commission by the London Symphony Orchestra. The first performance of the symphony took place on 3 May 1973 at the Royal Festival Hall, under the direction of Andrew Davis. Another London performance took place on 29 March 1984, again in the Royal Festival Hall, with the Philharmonia, the conductor again being Andrew Davis. In both cases audience and press reception was unanimously enthusiastic. Desmond Shawe-Taylor, in a review in the Sunday Times headed “Power of Robert Simpson”, detected “some shattering personal crisis” and observed that the 4th and 5th Symphonies “compel all but the most rigidly advanced of listeners to take a closer look at this remarkable composer.” He found the Fifth “bolder, tougher and more mysterious in substance.” Simpson’s Sixth Symphony, of 1977, was commissioned by the London Philharmonic Orchestra with funds provided by the Arts Council, who later sponsored the recording of the Sixth and Seventh, and also contributed to a number of later Commissions. It received its premiere performance on 8 April 1980 at the Royal Festival Hall with The London Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Sir Charles Groves. Edward Greenfield wrote in his Guardian review: “Happily Dr Simpson’s metaphors are incidental to his genuinely musical imagination. So after the fragmentary germinal motives at the start, he turns very quickly to a bold tonal melody such as Nielsen might have written. One might even say that another of Dr Simpson’s great influences is represented too; he has often acknowledged his debt to Beethoven and here he has in effect written a Pastoral symphony for the 20th century, a view of nature observed not through the eye of the individual but through the microscope.”

With two orchestral collections already out from Chandos and a third on the bench Cyril Scott’s music is at last making its way.

He died nine years short of his centenary. Had he lived to experience that iconic event he would have seen a couple of articles and very little else. In the 1980s things moved on a little as it did for his copains Granville Bantock and Josef Holbrooke. For Scott this took the form of a rather lacklustre orchestral collection from Marco Polo. Since then there has been a Chris Howell anthology of piano solos on Tremula and three double CD sets of the solo piano music played by Wilfred De’Ath on Dutton. The BBC broadcast the one act opera The Alchemist as well as the choral piece La Belle Dame Sans Merci and most recently the Violin Concerto, itself rumoured to be included on the next Chandos Scott volume. Latterly the real impact on the musical public’s consciousness has come from those two Chandos collections which in repertoire terms substantially overlap the present disc; the only completely new works there being the symphonies 3 and 4 and Neptune.

There’s no direct competition between this disc and the Chandos pair. Lyrita have here gathered the contents of two LPs issued in 1975 and 1977 giving us Scott’s principal output for piano and orchestra. The recordings were the result of a volatile collaboration between Richard Itter, John Ogdon and the irascible Anglophile conductor and composer Bernard Herrmann.

Do not expect from these three works frank heroics in the Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninov or Brahms mode. This is not solo pianist in adversarial contest with orchestra, pugilistic and then subdued. The First Piano Concerto was written just before the Great War. Beecham conducted at the premiere and the composer was the soloist. Latterly it was taken up by Kendall Taylor, Moura Lympany and Esther Fisher. The work is subtly perfumed with solo textures abounding and an overpowering atmosphere of mystery and idyllic lambency. After the Chinese hieratics of the first movement the second shares the enigmatic ritualism of John Ireland’s Legend and Forgotten Rite. The arcane beauties of the piece can be sampled in the dialogue of gong and celesta. Liquid Debussian touches create a meditative art nouveau kaleidoscope – a Klimt canvas in motion. The mood changes for the finale with its Handel-out-of-Grainger jocularity.

The beguilingly glittering waywardness of the First Concerto can also be heard - though with none of the oriental edge - in Early One Morning. The folksong itself is for the most part deeply subsumed, rising in enchanting Copland-like mist at 4:18. It is most clearly limned by the piano at 5:03 onwards. This is by no means the sort of conventional variations on a theme that Stanford produced for Down Among the Dead Men. The recording sessions were the first performance of the revision for single piano and orchestra. The original was for two pianos and orchestra.

The Second Concerto cannot be precisely dated but it is known that the composer was working on it in 1956. It is quite short and is in three movements. A tougher nut than the First Concerto, its themes are more subtle. Its haunted swaying harmonic world recalls an overgrown, lichen-festooned castle. Herrmann’s Xanadu was perhaps an influence; I wonder if Scott saw Citizen Kane? More plausibly we might hazard that the concerto was influenced by Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande. There is a positively Baxian war-dance trope at 00:32 in I. Otherwise the stylistic links are as with the other works: with the last two piano concertos by Nicolai Medtner, the Symphonic Variations of Arnold Bax (contemporary with Scott’s First Piano Concerto) and with John Foulds’ Dynamic Triptych and Essays in the Modes.

The cover of the CD booklet is a detail from the cover of the LP SRCS81: a portrait of Scott at age 52 painted by George Hall Neale. The notes are by Christopher Palmer and Roger Wimbush and are taken from the original LPs which are:

SRCS-81 Piano Concerto No. 1 in C / Ogdon (piano) Herrmann LPO
SRCS-82 Piano Concerto No. 2; Early One Morning (Poem for Piano and Orchestra) / Ogdon (piano) Herrmann LPO

This is a generously timed disc presenting Scott’s subtly beguiling piano concertos. The first is the more instantly captivating of the two but the second has much to commend it. Superbly done.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International