On Record – Anders Paulsson, Christian Lindberg – Anders Eliasson: Symphonies 3 & 4, Trombone Concerto (BIS)

Anders Eliasson
Symphony no.3 (1989/2010) (a)
Symphony no.4 (2005) (b)
Trombone Concerto (2000) (c)

Anders Paulsson (soprano saxophone) (a), Christian Lindberg (trombone) (c), Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra / Johannes Gustavsson (a), Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra / Sakari Oramo (b) and (c)

BIS 2368SACD [77’03”]

Producers Thore Brinkmann (a) Hans Kipfer and Mats Engström (b) and (c) Engineers Andreas Ruge (a), Fabian Frank (b), Mathias Spitzbarth (c)
Dates: (a) – 8-10 November 2017, Concert Hall, Gothenburg; (b) 23 September 2011, (c) 11 January 2020, Konserthuset, Stockholm

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

BIS issues a follow-up to its ‘4 X Anders Eliasson’ (BIS2270) in this no less fine collection of his Third and Fourth Symphonies – together with a first recorded outing for the Trombone Concerto and featuring musicians who have long been associated with the Swedish composer.

What’s the music like?

Anders Eliasson (1947-2013) enjoyed an ambivalent relationship with the symphony. Among the most notable debuts in the genre of the post-war era, his First Symphony (1986, recorded on Caprice under CAP 21381) prompted a successor as failed to progress beyond sketches, with the Fourth intended as initial part of a trilogy that never materialized due to his untimely death, though the Fifth was commissioned with a date set for its premiere. There are also two chamber symphonies, with the violin concerto Solitary Journey (2010) arguably a symphony in all but designation.

Written for and frequently performed by American-born saxophonist John-Edward Kelly, the Third Symphony was written for alto (Neos NEOS11301) but later revised for soprano sax. Despite Kelly’s objections, this latter instrument undeniably merges even more effectively within its orchestral context. Anders Paulson has its measure as he traverses its five continuous sections – from an agitatedly expectant Quest, via the guardedly expressive Solitude and assaultive Shudders, to a plaintively affecting Sad before dissolving into the postlude that is Mists.

A decade on and the Trombone Concerto continues this integrative and inherently symphonic approach. As with Eliasson’s earlier concertos there are three continuous movements, though here a slow-fast-slow sequence opens with a ruminative Adagio that acts as ‘prologue’ to an extensive Allegro moderato whose frequent restraint yet requires a dexterity and incisiveness such as dedicatee Christian Lindberg typically meets head-on. A keen momentum is no less evident across its eventful course, prior to the ruminative Lento that duly serves as ‘epilogue’.

One of Eliasson’s most often heard works since its Munich premiere, the Fourth Symphony is among his most characteristic in its formal and expressive aims. Here a powerfully wrought Allegro summons up some of this composer’s most uninhibited music; evolving with no little motivic ingenuity to an Adagio whose concertante role for flugelhorn, eloquently rendered by Joakim Agnas, exudes a wistfully evocative tone. A scherzo-like section marked ‘threatening’ then builds to a climax, from where a brief Adagio returns the flugelhorn for a subdued envoi.

Does it all work?

Yes. Although his music could never be mistaken for that of his predecessor Allan Pettersson, Eliasson was similarly unequivocal in a musical language whose seriousness of purpose does not preclude lightness of touch or barbed humour. The latter two pieces here find his idiom at its most refined, unfolding with a cumulative inevitability that could be thought Nordic in its ethos. Performances are uniformly committed, and hopefully Sakari Oramo might yet take the Fourth Symphony to London in his ongoing association with the BBC Symphony Orchestra.

Is it recommended?

Indeed. The sound is on a par with BIS’s numerous other recordings from its Gothenburg and Stockholm venues, with Peter Kislinger’s annotations as informed and insightful as expected given his long-time advocacy of Eliasson’s music. Further such releases would be welcome.

For further information and purchasing options, visit the BIS website For more information on Anders Eliasson, click here, while you can click on the artist names for the websites of Anders Paulsson, Christian Lindberg, Johannes Gustavsson and Sakari Oramo, the Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra and the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra

On Record – BBC Welsh Chorus & Orchestra / Bryden Thomson & Sir Charles Groves – Daniel Jones: Symphonies 12 & 13 (Lyrita)

Daniel Jones
Symphony no.12 (1985)a
Symphony no.13 ‘Symphony in memory of John Fussell (1992)b
Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life (1987)c

Maldwyn Davies (tenor) (c), BBC Welsh Chorus (c, BBC Welsh Symphony Orchestra (a) and (c) / Bryden Thomson (a), Sir Charles Groves (c); BBC National Orchestra of Wales (b) / Tecwyn Evans (b)

Lyrita SRCD391 [65’35”] English text included
Dates: (a) – BBC studio recording 22 March 1990; (b) – BBC concert broadcast 23 January 2017; (c) – BBC broadcast from Swansea Festival, 10 October 1987

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Lyrita completes its coverage of symphonies by Daniel Jones (1912-1993) with this coupling of his final two such works, alongside the premiere performance of his last cantata, heard in readings by artists who identified closely with the composer’s music throughout their careers.

What’s the music like?

It was only midway through this cycle that Jones realized he could start a symphony on each note of the chromatic scale. The Twelfth Symphony thus completes this process – its overall structure being among the composer’s most concentrated. At barely six minutes, the opening movement seems relatively expansive with the tensile sonata-form of its Agitato bookended by affecting Tranquillo passages. There follows a rumbustious Giocoso the more potent for its brevity, a Serioso such as might almost be thought a ‘song without words’ with its lyrical understatement, then a Risoluto which extends just long enough to round off the whole work by effecting an oblique return to its initial bars. Four decades on from his first so-designated piece and Jones can be said to have brought his symphonic cycle decisively to its conclusion.

That, however, was by no means the end of the story: the death, in 1990, of Jones’s friend the organist and administrator John Fussell prompted a Thirteenth Symphony as proved to be his last completed work (an Eighth String Quartet being realized by Malcolm Binney and the late Giles Easterbrook). Relatively expansive next to those later such pieces, with some especially imaginative writing for percussion (allocated to no less than seven players), this unfolds from the restless and eventful Solenne – at almost 10 minutes a worthy ‘memorial’ in itself – via an animated and nonchalant Capriccioso then a Lento whose plangent woodwind writing makes it among his most searching slow movements, to a finale whose Agitato-Tranquillo trajectory is pursued twice as this intensifies inexorably towards an ending as powerful as it is eloquent.

Coming between the two symphonies, Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life is the last of Jones’s four cantatas and again has recourse to metaphysical poetry – in this instance George Herbert, the seven short movements being arranged as to chart the spiritual progress of the author (by extension, that of John Aeron-Thomas – founder-member of the Swansea Festival, for whom this is a memorial). Intersected with a fervent orchestral Fantasia, the six choruses traverse contrasted and even conflicted emotions before attaining an unforced affirmation at the close.

Does it all work?

It does. As has previously been noted in these reviews, Jones was not a composer who sought or attracted easy plaudits – opting for an idiom whose methodical evolution is consistent and absorbing. The performances reflect this thinking, Sir Charles Groves and Bryden Thomson both focussed on capturing the essence of works whose integrity is abetted by deftness and no little humour. Tecwyn Evans’s conducting suggests he, too, is primarily concerned with projecting the spirit of this music. Nor does Maldwyn Davies’s contribution leave anything to be desired.

Is it recommended?

Indeed. The broadcasts have been expertly remastered (No. 13 understandably sounding the best), with Paul Conway contributing detailed and insightful annotations. Job done by Lyrita, which will now hopefully complete a similar intégrale of the symphonies by Alun Hoddinott.

For further information and purchasing options, visit the Lyrita website For more information on Daniel Jones, click here

On Record – David Quigley – The Fair Hills of Éire: Irish Airs and Dances (Heritage Records)

david-quigley

David Quigley (piano)

Beach The Fair Hills of Éire Op.91 (1922)
Esposito Two Irish Melodies Op.39 (1883)
Field Go to the Devil and Shake Yourself (1798)
Hammond Miniatures and Modulations (2011) – No. 5, Old Truagh; No. 21, The Beardless Boy
Hennessy Variations sur un air Irlandais ancien Op.28 (1908)
Hough Londonderry Air (2014)
Martin Sionna – Spirit of the Shannon (2018)
Moeran Irish Love Song (1926); The White Mountain (1929)
Smith Paraphrase on ‘The Last Rose of Summer’ Op.173 (1883)
Stanford arr. Grainger Four Irish Dances Op.89 (1916) – no.1: Maguire’s Kick; no.4: A Reel

Heritage Records HTGCD152 [62’39”]
Producer / Engineer David Marshalsea

Recorded 9 & 11 April 2022 at Elgar Concert Hall, The Bramall, University of Birmingham

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

The enterprising Heritage label continues its association with David Quigley in this recital   of Irish piano works as cover over two centuries, reminding listeners of the wealth of folk or traditional music from that island and its influence on successive generations of composers.

What’s the music like?

Published as Favorite (sic) Irish Dance Arranged as a Rondo for the Piano Forte, the first item is not unreasonably attributed to the teenage John Field and make for a breezy recital-opener – following which, pianist Stephen Hough demonstrated his prowess as an arranger with what is surely the most famous of all Irish melodies. Two pieces by the Italian émigré Michele Esposito – the trenchant Avenging and Bright, followed by the pensive Though the Last Glimpse of Erin – complement each other ideally, whereas the first from a set of dances by Charles Villers Stanford exudes bracing humour most likely accentuated in this idiomatic arrangement by no less than Percy Grainger. By some distance the longest piece here is from Swan Hennessy, an Irish/American later resident in France – his 12 variations on an (unidentified) theme in the lineage of various such works from the 19th century but diverting in its ingenuity. Best known as an inquiring pianist, Philip Martin the composer is represented by this evocative set of ‘rhapsodic variations’ written for the present artist.

Sidney Smith’s Paraphrase de concert on another Irish staple is the most virtuosic music and would make a dashing encore even today. Philip Hammond is the other contemporary composer featured – the present brace, part of a sequence of 21 drawn from the Edward Bunting collection and likewise written for Quigley, respectively searching and animated     in their emotional profile. From among her many mood-pieces, that by Amy Beach yields       a limpid poetry that more than deserves to provide the title for this collection overall. An English composer with direct Irish ancestry, Ernest Moeran’s predilection for all-things Celtic is made plain by the two pieces heard here, their recourse to traditional melodies enhanced by an idiomatic pianism which adds greatly to the winsomeness of their appeal. Back, finally, to those Stanford/Grainger dances with the fourth from this set a reminder that the former, whatever his formidable reputation as a pedagogue, was never averse to indulging his Irish roots in the writing of music as scintillating as it remains appealing.

Does it all work?

Admirably. Quigley is as committed to the music of his homeland as have been numerous of his predecessors, not only with performing these pieces in recital but also by finding ways of integrating them into a cohesive overall programme. Only one achieves (just) the 10-minute mark and another is almost eight minutes, making them ideal for combining into a judicious sequence – one which, at little more than an hour’s length, can be enjoyed at a single hearing. Quigley will hopefully have the chance to mine the ‘Irish piano-book’ further in due course.

Is it recommended?

Indeed. Quigley is a perceptive exponent of this repertoire, his Kawai Shigeru SK-EX heard to advantage in the spacious yet detailed acoustic of the Elgar Concert Hall. With succinctly informative notes from Andrew H. King, this recital warrants the warmest recommendation.

For further information on this release, and to purchase, visit the Heritage Records website, and for more on David Quigley click here

On Record – SRSQ: Ever Crashing (Dais)

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

This is the second album from singer-songwriter Kennedy Ashlyn, who goes by the artistic name of SRSQ (pronounced ‘seer-skew’).

It was three years in the making, though when you get a hint of Ashlyn’s story the importance of this record falls into place. Her debut album, after all, was a response to the tragic death of her one time bandmate Cath Askew in Oakland – and Ever Crashing was an expression at the news of her diagnosis with ADHD and bipolar disorder. Music became a necessity, the primary means of expression.

The Ever Crashing title is pertinent, to quote from the press release documenting ‘Ashlyn’s recurring sensation of being trapped in the crest of a wave, turned and churned in the surf, mirroring the cycles of self-flagellation and surrender that she battles being bipolar’.

What’s the music like?

Even without the backstory in mind, Ever Crashing is a powerful experience. Ashlyn’s voice is the primary reason for this, a most impressive instrument capable of holding its own above a wall of guitars but never straining, always relatable, and always clear in its lyrical delivery (an underrated quality!)

It Always Rains gives us a slow and powerful beginning, showing off influences that run from Cocteau Twins and All About Eve to The Cure and School of Seven Bells perhaps – all names speculation because the music fits in next to theirs. Yet the result is that SRSQ does have a distinct identity, Ashlyn’s compelling presence piercing the clouds.

Saved For Summer throws open the windows with a rush of guitars, as does the standout Dead Loss, a really strong pop song with a winning hook. The title track packs a punch, too, as does Élan Vital, which finds the singer noting how ‘winter twists and turns, when the days are cold and sparse’. Later on she asks, “What is it about the cold that makes me sad?”

The closing Someday I Will Bask In The Sun offers a way out. “In my own time I will christen this prison of my own design, I am risen, forgiven,” sings Ashlyn over a fidgety breakbeat.

Does it all work?

Much of it does, especially vocally. The tracks do tend to be quite long, which on the plus side means they have plenty of time to establish the mood but also that they can overrun.

Is it recommended?

It is. There is much to commend this record, its stand against adversity, and its musical assertiveness in the face of the storm. As a listener you will emerge suitably inspired.

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On record: Sinfonia of London / John Wilson – John Ireland: Orchestral Works (Chandos)

John Ireland
Satyricon Overture (1946)
A Downland Suite [1941, arr. Ireland (movements 2 & 3), Geoffrey Bush (1 & 4)]
Mai-Dun (1920-21)
The Forgotten Rite (1913)
A London Overture (1936)
The Holy Boy (1941, Ireland’s string orchestra arrangement)
Epic March (1941-42)

Sinfonia of London / John Wilson

Chandos CHAN 5293 [67’16”]
Producer Brian Pidgeon
Engineer Ralph Couzens

Recorded 26-28 August 2021, Church of St. Augustine, Kilburn, London, UK

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

John Ireland is a well-respected composer in the scope of early 20th century British music. Often writing in shorter forms, his songs and piano music present a fine body of work and enable the listener to get to know this bittersweet musical personality. Meanwhile the more substantial chamber music shows Ireland was capable of handling larger structures.

A good way in to the composer’s output is through his orchestral music, and there are several attractive anthologies already available – from Sir Adrian Boult and from John Wilson himself, conducting the Halle Orchestra. Wilson returns to the composer here in the company of the Sinfonia of London to give us a collection of suites, tone poems and pictorial overtures. Perhaps inevitably, The Holy Boy – Ireland’s best-known song – is also included, in its arrangement for string orchestra.

What’s the music like?

Ireland’s music is simultaneously elusive, heartfelt, melodic and elegiac – and these fine performances get right to the heart of his thinking.

Wilson and his charges begin with a good-natured account of the overture Satyricon, enjoying its syncopations before a smooth and elegant second theme from the strings, who impress with their command of the longer phrases. They come to the fore in a co-arranged version of A Downland Suite, two movements each recast from the brass band original by Ireland himself an Geoffrey Bush. This is music of silvery tone and generous melodic content, with an incisive Prelude, solemn Elegy, poised Minuet and a crisp, upward looking Rondo. Contrasting this with Mai-Dun is a good move, revealing Ireland’s colourful orchestrations and some lavish harmonies while digging deep emotionally.

The Forgotten Rite, a prelude serving as Ireland’s first published orchestral work. also has deep underlying emotion, while The Holy Boy – Ireland’s favoured song – is more sentimental but not excessively so. Bigger sounds are promised by the Epic March, which certainly lives up to its billing and stature, and A London Overture, which may have less bustle than its Elgarian counterpart (Cockaigne) but creates a studied portrait of the English capital city.

Does it all work?

Yes. Wilson has an innate understanding of this music, and with top class performances and clarity of recording there is little if anything to dispute here. The bigger pieces fare particularly well, with a crisply deployed Epic March and a detailed account of A London Overture that has particular insight in the work’s quieter moment. The Sinfonia’s account of A Downland Suite is subtle but affecting, with a gently dancing Minuet and a thoughtful Elegy that tugs softly but insistently at the heartstrings.

Perhaps the most successful piece is Mai-Dun, exploring some glorious shades of colour and texture, while the dappled sunlight of The Forgotten Rite is also exquisitely painted.

Is it recommended?

Yes – even in comparison with the Halle anthology, which shares much of the repertoire recorded here – though that one includes the suite The Overlanders rather than A Downland Suite. Either are very fine collections, but this Sinfonia of London set of recordings is extremely well recorded and performed with rare insight, capturing the composer’s personality to a tee.

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Buy

You can view buying options for this release – on download or SACD – on the Chandos website