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

BBC Proms #44 – Soloists, BBC Symphony Chorus & Orchestra / Sakari Oramo: Ethel Smyth ‘Mass’ & Debussy ‘Nocturnes’

Prom 44 – Nardus Williams (soprano), Bethan Langford (mezzo-soprano), Robert Murray (tenor), Božidar Smiljanić (bass), BBC Symphony Chorus, BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo

Debussy Nocturnes (1897-9)
Smyth Mass in D (1891, rev. 1924) [Proms premiere]

Royal Albert Hall, London

Saturday 20 August 2022

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) Chris Christodoulou

His third Prom this season found Sakari Oramo conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra in an unlikely yet, in the event, thought provoking double-bill of pieces composed at either end of the same decade and which duly played to the strengths of all those who were taking part.

The music of Ethel Smyth has been a prominent feature of this season and while her Mass in D comes too early in her career to be considered ‘mature’, it does evince many of those traits as defined the operas that followed. Written during a brief flush of adherence to Anglicanism, this is demonstrably a concert rather than liturgical setting (which makes its apparent status as the first Mass heard publicly in England for almost 300 years the more ironic) and, moreover, one of a ‘symphonic’ rather than ‘solemn’ conception despite the audible debt to Beethoven.

Smyth reinforces this aspect by placing the Gloria at the close – thereby making it the finale of a sequence in which the Kyrie, building gradually to a baleful climax before returning to its initial sombreness, becomes an extended introduction to the Credo whose numerous sub-sections facilitate a sonata-form design of no mean formal cohesion and expressive breadth. For their part, the Sanctus, Benedictus and Agnus Dei function as extended slow movement whose (for the most part) emotional restraint enables the soloists to come to the fore – after which, the Gloria takes its place as a finale not least in terms of drawing on previous themes and motifs through to the forceful though never merely bathetic culmination. That Smythe did not essay a symphony given her evident structural command seems the more surprising.

Tonight’s performance was no less assured than that which Oramo gave at the Barbican (and subsequently recorded, albeit with different soloists) three seasons ago. The soloists made the most of their contributions – Nardus Williams bringing a plaintiveness and elegance that was ideally complemented with Bethan Langford’s warmth and understated fervency, and though Robert Murray’s ardency showed signs of strain, he was no less ‘inside’ his part than Božidar Smiljanić, whose solo was more affecting for its burnished eloquence. The BBC Symphony Chorus responded as one to the full-on contrapuntal writing of those main movements, while Richard Pearce ensured the (too?) extensive organ part did not muddy the orchestral textures. Oramo directed with clear enjoyment a work that, for the most part, justified its 62 minutes.

In the first half, Oramo presided over a searching account of Debussy’s Nocturnes – its three movements still sometimes encountered separately but far more effective heard as a complete entity. Not its least impressive aspect was the ease with which these followed on from each other with a cumulative inevitability – the fugitive shading of Nuages (melting cor anglais playing by Helen Vigurs) leading to the half-lit activity of Fêtes, with its darting gestures and a central march-past of vivid understatement, then on to the sensuous allure of Sirènes.

As enticing as the women’s voices of the BBCSC sounded in this closing movement, it was the fervency with which Oramo infused its recalcitrant content such as made it the natural culmination of the sequence – the final bars dying away with a tangible sense of fulfillment.

Click on the artist names for more information on Nardus Williams, Bethan Langford, Robert Murray, Božidar Smiljanić and Sakari Oramo and for more information on the BBC Symphony Orchestra head to their website. For more on composer Dame Ethel Smyth, click here

BBC Proms #42 – Jan Lisiecki, BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Dausgaard: Nielsen, Beethoven & Sibelius

Prom 42 – Jan Lisiecki (piano), BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Dausgaard

Sibelius Symphony no.7 in C major Op.105 (1924)
Beethoven Piano Concerto no.4 in G major Op.58 (1804-6)
Nielsen Symphony no.4 FS76 ‘The Inextinguishable’ (1914-16)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Thursday 18 August 2022

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) Chris Christodoulou

Ending his tenure as Chief Conductor of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, Thomas Dausgaard directed this programme which once again played to both his and the orchestra’s strengths – in the process underlining just what they have achieved together over the past six seasons.

He might not have scheduled Sibelius quite so assiduously as his one-time predecessor Osmo Vänskä, but Dausgaard is hardly less perceptive in this composer as was proven with his take on the Seventh Symphony. If not a tale of two parts, the first half that resonated more deeply – an introduction shot through with expectancy that preceded a powerful build-up to the first emergence of the trombone theme, and an effortlessly accelerating ‘scherzo’ as made feasible a central climax of rare intensity. From here tension dropped a little over the course of a lucid yet (in this context) over-extended ‘intermezzo’, and if the approach to the final return of the trombone theme had the right inexorability, the strings’ climactic response was a little reined-in emotionally. Nor did the fraught cadence into the home-key have the desired inevitability.

Whether or not the Sibelius should open a concert, Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto made for an ideal continuation. Stepping in at the eleventh hour, Jan Lisiecki is no stranger to this music such that his lightly articulated if rarely insubstantial tone complemented Dausgaard’s incisive but never headlong accompaniment. Just occasionally in the opening movement this jewel-like pianism felt a little self-defeating, though not with a lucid rendering of the (more familiar) cadenza or transition from the Andante into the finale of heart-stopping eloquence. The latter movement had the necessary vigour but also an appealing intimacy, as in the lower strings’ transition towards the final return of the rondo theme or those ruminative woodwind asides before the decisive coda. Chopin’s C minor Nocturne (1838) made for a limpid encore.

Keen to get on with proceedings, Dausgaard launched Nielsen’s Fourth Symphony after the interval before applause had subsided. Often a conductor willing to modify his approach, he might have steered the opening Allegro less forcefully given the textural detail that was lost in the Albert Hall’s ample expanse, but the twofold appearances of the ‘motto’ theme were magisterially rendered – the shocked transition into the intermezzo proving as mesmeric as this latter movement was affecting through its deft combination of winsomeness and pathos.

Equally memorable was Dausgaard’s handling of the slow movement, here exuding fervency without undue histrionics both in the searching string threnodies and the confiding passages either side – the latter of which provided a stealthy transition into the final Allegro. Here the placing of a second timpani set front-left in the arena made stretched the antiphonal contrast a little too obviously, but the music’s overall intent came across unscathed as the ‘motto’ made its climactic final appearance then those closing bars hit the ground as they should – running. Whether or not Dausgaard intended ‘Inextinguishable’ to sum up his music-making with the BBCSSO, or whether anything might be read into his wearing a Covid mask throughout, this concert was a worthy leave-taking. Hopefully he will not be absent from the UK for too long.

Click on the artist names for more information on Jan Lisiecki and Thomas Dausgaard, and for more information on the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra head to their website

BBC Proms #41 – Behzod Abduraimov, Elizabeth Watts, Benjamin Appl, BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Dausgaard: Nielsen ‘Sinfonia espansiva’, Beethoven & Ravel

Prom 41 – Behzod Abduraimov (piano), Elizabeth Watts (soprano), Benjamin Appl (baritone), BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Dausgaard

Ravel La Valse (1919-20)
Beethoven Piano Concerto no.1 in C major Op.15 (1795, rev. 1800)
Nielsen Symphony no.3 ‘Sinfonia espansiva’ (1910-11)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Wednesday 17 August 2022

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Photos (c) Mark Allan

There is a changing of the guard in Glasgow. On his way in as chief conductor of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra is the conductor, composer and pianist Ryan Wigglesworth, an exciting and evolving artist. He will replace Thomas Dausgaard, who leaves City Halls after six years and is signing off with two consecutive Proms of symphonies by his Danish compatriot, Carl Nielsen.

We began this concert in Paris, however, with a distinctly chilly account of Ravel’s La Valse. The horrors of the First World War encroach into Ravel’s writing, and were all too audible around the edges in this performance, which was brilliantly played and lucidly controlled. The feather-light strings of the opening bars ensured the dynamic contrasts were extreme, and when the full orchestra cut loose towards the end the effect was both exhilarating and terrifying, the ‘fatal whirring motion’ of Ravel’s inspiration collapsing in the final bars.

Dynamic contrasts were a feature, too, in a fine performance of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto no.1, with soloist Behzod Abduraimov. The Uzbek pianist was the ideal foil for the clarity of the reduced forces of the BBC SSO, giving an affectionate performance notable for its dance-like qualities. There were occasional rhythmic indulgences in the solo party, but these were both tasteful and well-managed, with Dausgaard alive to his flights of fancy. The dialogue with the orchestra was often exquisite, especially when piano and clarinet (Yann Ghiro) linked in the slow movement. Time stood still for an early example of one of Beethoven’s heavenly silences, before the Rondo danced its way into the minds of the audience for the interval. Stylishly played and with some attractive, witty touches, this was an endearing account of high technical quality. Abduraimov’s encore was slightly at odds with the feather-light touches displayed in the Beethoven, being a heavyweight performance of Mercutio from Prokofiev’s Romeo & Juliet transcriptions for piano. There were fireworks and great virtuosity, though the significance of choosing a Ukrainian-born composer should not be overlooked.

Dausgaard returned after the interval to conduct his compatriot’s ‘most Danish’ symphony. David Gutman’s ever-helpful Proms notes revealed that Nielsen’s Sinfonia espansiva was somehow not performed at the Proms until 1990, and even this was its first Royal Albert Hall performance in 23 years. It was a memorable encounter, the high voltage first movement immediately into gear with its repeated notes surging forward, bursting through the dam. The exultant first movement was complemented by the radiance of the second, with wordless vocals from on high in the gallery supplied by soprano Elizabeth Watts and baritone Benjamin Appl. The combination, over hushed strings, enchanted the hall and made the best possible use of its spatial options. Surrounding their contributions were winsome cadenzas from the BBC Scottish woodwind, portraying the great Danish outdoors with crisp outlines.

The third movement built its energy cumulatively, all the while pointing towards the finale, where we heard the Danish ‘ode to joy’ in luxurious tones from assembled strings and horns. This was music of wide-eyed optimism, galvanizing orchestra, audience and conductor alike to an emphatic signing off. With contributions from golden brass and thundering timpani, this performance was truly expansive – and served to emphasise what the Proms audiences have been missing with this symphony all these years!

For more information, click on the names to discover more on the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra and their new chief conductor Ryan Wigglesworth

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