On Record – Helen Field, David Wilson-Johnson, soloists, Millennium Sinfonia / James Kelleher: Havergal Brian: The Cenci (Toccata Classics)

Brian
The Cenci (1951-2)

Helen Field (soprano) Beatrice Cenci
David Wilson-Johnson (baritone) Count Cenci
Ingveldur Ýr Jónsdóttir (contralto) Lucretia
Stuart Kale (tenor) Cardinal Camillo/An Officer
Justin Lavender (tenor) Orsino/Bernardo
Jeffrey Carl (baritone) Giacomo/Savella/First Judge/Second Judge
Nicholas Buxton (tenor) Marzio/Third Guest/A Cardinal
Devon Harrison (bass) Olimpio/Colonna/Third Guest
Serena Kay (soprano) First Guest/Second Guest
The Millennium Sinfonia / James Kelleher

Toccata Classics TOCC0094 [two discs, 101’32’’]
Producer & Engineer Geoff Miles Remastering Adeq Khan
Live performance, 12 December 1997 at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, Southbank Centre, London

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics fills a major gap in the Havergal Brian discography with this release of his opera The Cenci, given its first hearing 27 years ago by a notable roster of soloists with The Millennium Sinfonia conducted by James Kelleher, and accorded finely refurbished sound.

What’s the music like?

The third among the five operas which Brian completed, The Cenci emerged as the second of its composer’s seminal works inspired by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822). While his ‘lyric drama’ on the first two books of Prometheus Unbound (1937-44) had set its text almost word for word, Brian was ruthless in adapting his ‘tragedy in five acts’ – the outcome being a rapid traversal of a drama whose themes of incest and parricide made it publicly unstageable in the UK until 1922, some 103 years after publication in Livorno where it had partly been written.

Two further operatic treatments emerged either side of that by Brian. Berthold Goldschmidt’s Beatrice Cenci (1949-50) won first prize in the Festival of Britain opera competition in 1951 but itself went unheard 1988 (ironically enough, in a concert performance at Queen Elizabeth Hall), and Alberto Ginastera’s Beatrix Cenci (1970-71) went unstaged in his native Argentina until as recently as 2015. Whereas both these operas centres on the heroine of Shelley’s play, Brian’s focusses more on its ensemble as to content with the emphasis shifting from father to daughter as it unfolds. Compared to the poised yet rather self-conscious lyricism favoured by Goldschmidt or the full-on expressionism of Ginastera, moreover, its often circumspect and sometimes oblique emotional demeanour renders Shelley’s drama from an intriguing remove.

Not its least fascination is the Preludio Tragico that, at 14 minutes, is less an overture than an overview of what ensues – akin to Beethoven’s Leonora No. 2 in its motivic intricacy and expressive substance – which would most likely warrant a balletic or cinematic treatment in the context of a staging. Perfectly feasible as a standalone item, this received its first hearing in 1976 and was recorded by Toccata Classics in 2009 (TOCC0113). Ably negotiated by his players, Kelleher’s lithely impulsive account accordingly sets the scene in unequivocal terms.

What follows are eight scenes which encapsulate this drama to compelling if at times reckless effect. The initial three scenes correspond to Shelley’s first act and culminate with the gauntly resplendent Banquet Scene, but Brian’s fourth scene goes straight to the play’s fourth act with the despairing exchanges of Beatrice and Lucrecia. The fifth scene finds daughter and mother in a plot to murder Count Cenci that soon unravels, then the last three scenes take in Shelley’s fifth act as fate intervenes with Beatrice, Lucretia and stepbrother Giacomo facing execution. Save for a crucial passage where the Papal Legate arrives to arrest Cenci, omission of which jarringly undermines continuity in the fifth scene, Brian’s handling of dramatic pacing leaves little to be desired – the one proviso being the excessive rapidity with which certain passages, notably several of Cenci’s, need to be sung that would have benefitted from a slight easing of tempo. Musically, this is typical of mature Brian in its quixotic interplay of moods within that context of fatalism mingled with defiance as few other composers have conveyed so tangibly.

Does it all work?

Very largely, owing to as fine a cast as could have been assembled. Helen Field is unfailingly eloquent and empathetic as Beatrice, with such as her remonstrations at the close of the fifth scene and spoken acceptance at that of the eighth among the highpoints of mid-20th century opera. David Wilson-Johnson brings the requisite cruelty but also a sadistic humour to Count Cenci, and Ingveldur Ýr Jónsdóttir is movingly uncomprehending as Lucretia. The secondary roles are expertly allotted, notably Justin Lavender’s scheming Orsino and stricken Bernardo. The Millennium Sinfonia responds to Brian’s powerful if often abrasive writing with alacrity under the assured guidance of James Kelleher, and if the sound does not make full use of the QEH’s ambience, its clarity and immediacy tease unexpected nuance from the orchestration.

This set comes with two booklets. One features the libretto devised by Brian, duly annotated to indicate omissions or amendments (yet a number of anomalies in this performance remain unaccounted for). The other features Shelley’s own preface to the first edition, with articles by Brian afficionados including John Pickard’s informative overview of the music and Kelleher’s thoughts on its performance. Charles Nicholl’s speculations as to the ‘real’ Beatrice Cenci are more suited to activities on a culture cruise than to Brian’s opera but are entertaining even so.

Is it recommended?

It is indeed. The Cenci is unlikely to receive further performances (let alone staging) any time soon, so this reading gives a persuasive account of its manifest strengths and relative failings. Kelleher is ‘‘formulating plans to return to conducting’’ and ought to be encouraged to do so.

Listen & Buy

You can listen to samples and explore purchase options on the Toccata Classics website Click on the names for more on conductor James Kelleher and to read more about the opera at the Havergal Brian Society website

Published post no.2,298 – Wednesday 11 September 2024

On Record – James Turnbull, Poppy Beddoe, Mira Marton, BBC NoW / Matthew Taylor: Matthew Taylor: Orchestral Music Vol.2 (Toccata Classics)

James Turnbull (oboe), Poppy Beddoe (clarinet), Mira Marton (violin), BBC National Orchestra of Wales / Matthew Taylor

Matthew Taylor
Symphony no.6 Op.62 (2021)
Oboe Concerto Op.60 (2020-21)
Clarinet Concertino Op.63 (2021)
Violin Concertino Op.52 (2016)

Toccata Classics TOCC0708 [69’32’’]
Producer Andrew Keener Engineer Andrew Smillie
Recorded 17 & 18 December 2022 in Hoddinott Hall, Millennium Centre, Cardiff

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics continues its now extensive coverage of Matthew Taylor (b.1964) with this coupling of his most recent symphony alongside three of his concertante pieces, two of them here played by the soloists for whom they were written and all with the composer conducting.

What’s the music like?

Those familiar with Taylor’s symphonic output will recall that the Fifth ended with an adagio of powerfully inward emotion, and the Sixth Symphony picks up on this directly. Dedicated to the memory of Malcolm Arnold in the year of his centenary, it is his contemporary Robert Simpson (a pervasive influence on Taylor’s formative years) who comes most to mind in an opening movement whose alternation between relative darkness and lightness is informed by a gradually cumulative momentum the more striking given this music’s textural transparency.

The second of three continuous movements centres on a fugal theme of affecting poise, one whose transformation is made more so by orchestration where piano and harp confirm their substantive rather than merely colouristic roles. Only with the finale does Arnold’s presence assert itself – the jazzy cast of its clarinet theme facilitating allusions to, if not quotations of, several of this composer’s salient works prior to a culmination that, launched by a crescendo of mounting anticipation, rounds off the whole work with a decidedly no-nonsense terseness.

Of the other pieces, the Oboe Concerto is most substantial. Imaginatively scored for Haydn-esque forces, with cors anglais instead of oboes, it inverts the expected order of movements with the first of these featuring a central section whose intermezzo-like deftness offsets the sombreness either side. There follows a Scherzo which further develops the primary motifs with dextrous virtuosity, before an Adagio affords not just closure but a sense of fulfilment   through the emotional raptness such as pervades this most eloquent among Taylor’s finales.

Taylor having earlier written concertos for clarinet and violin, the present works are lighter in their overall mood but not slighter in actual content. Thus, the Violin Concertino intersperses respectively trenchant and lively outer sections with an ‘aria’ of wistful elegance, whereas the Clarinet Concertino frames its pert amalgam of slow movement and scherzo with an Andante of autumnal repose then a finale of artless naivety. Brahms is mentioned in the latter instance, though the late woodwind sonatas of Saint-Saëns and Poulenc might be felt equally apposite.

Does it all work?

It does, and not only because of Taylor’s sill in writing from a soloistic or orchestral vantage. Each of the concertante pieces confirms his feeling for the instrument in question, while the symphony reaffirms his status among the leading exponents of this genre from the past half-century. The three soloists are audibly attuned to his music, and the BBC National Orchestra of Wales continues the favourable impression it made with his Fourth Symphony (recorded by Kenneth Woods on Nimbus NI6406) by similarly responding to the composer’s direction.

Is it recommended?

It is, and not least when the booklet features informative notes by Taylor himself. This release is dedicated to the memory of Tom Hammond (1974-2021), trombonist and conductor whose untimely death deprived the musical world of a gifted musician and exemplary human being.

Listen & Buy

You can listen to samples and explore purchase options on the Toccata Classics website Click on the names for more on artists James Turnbull, Poppy Beddoe and Mira Marton, the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and composer / conductor Matthew Taylor

Published post no.2,219 – Monday 24 June 2024

On Record – Arthur Lourié: Chamber and Instrumental Music Vol. 1 (Toccata Classics)

Lourié
Sunrise (1957)a
Pastorale de la Volga (1916)b
Regina Coeli (1924)c
La Flute à travers le Violon (1935)d
Dithyrambes (1938)e
Deux Études sur un sonnet de Mallarmé (1945/62)f
The Mime (1956)g
The Flute of Pan (1957)h
Funeral Games in Honor of Chronos (1964)i

cCandy Grace Ho (contralto) iRaphael Leone (piccolo) adehBirgit Ramsl (flute), gPaolo Beltramini (clarinet), Egidius Streiff, bd(viola/violin) fiGottlieb Wallisch (piano)
Musicians of Arthur Lourié Festival, Basel [iLucie Brotbek Prochásková (alto flute), bcHansjürgen Wäldele (oboe), bNicolas Rihs (bassoon), cSimon Lilly (trumpet), bAgnès Mauri (viola), bMateusz Kamiński (cello), iNicolas Suter (percussion)]

Toccata Classics TOCC0652 [70’05’’]
Producer Mauro Piccinini Engineers Sergio Cossu & Riccardo Botta
Recorded 26 November 2021 (g) and 25 February 2022 (adeh) at Sacro Cuore, Bellinzona; 20/24 February 2022 (bcfi) at Studio 1, Schweizer Radio und Fernsehen, Zurich

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics adds to the growing recorded representation of Arthur Lourié (1892-1966) with this first volume devoted to chamber and instrumental music, so extending appreciation of not only a culturally significant figure but a strikingly original composer in his own right.

What’s the music like?

Earliest here is Pastorale de la Volga – its pungent scoring for woodwind and strings, with its avowedly constructivist unfolding (what might be termed ‘additive form’), maintained across two continuous movements which do not develop linearly as evolve modularly; these motifs intensifying, as it were, through association and in a manner Stravinsky or Prokofiev drew on intensively around this time. Subsequently isolated in Wiesbaden, Lourié brought modernist and traditional facets into telling accord with his setting Regina Coeli; here, oboe and trumpet play off a vocal line that continues unaware of, or is indifferent to, their contrasting presence.

In essence a sonata ‘malgré-lui’, La Flûte à travers le Violon has its composer utilizing some of the more recondite aspects of Stravinskian neo-classicism – whether in the agile rhythmic displacement of its opening Allegretto, taciturn eloquence of its central Adagio or engaging repartee of the final Presto with its appealingly populist undertones. By contrast, the trilogy for solo flute Dithyrambes offers an avowedly Nietzschean take on the choral odes found in Greek antiquity – the graceful undulations of Le Sacrifice du miel duly complemented by the unfurling lament of Plainte d’Ariane, before the tonal and rhythmic intricacies of the relatively lengthy Labyrinthe make a potent corollary to that fabled if mythical construct.

Phrases, first of two études respectively commenting on and setting a sonnet by Mallarmé, finds this composer at his most unashamedly melodic – though there is nothing reactionary about its plaintive and at times capricious interplay between flute and piano. This is no less true of Mime, a study for clarinet which is dedicated to Charles Chaplin and which it is not unreasonable to think of as a portrait of this actor in his most enduring guise as the Tramp.

The programme had opened with the alluring strains of Sunrise, its (imagined?) evocation of the ‘dawn chorus’ just one of the aspects of this first cousin to pieces by Debussy and Varèse, and to which The Flute of Pan makes for a pointed contrast with its gradually but inexorably mounting activity to a febrile ending. From here to Funeral Games in Honor of Chronos is to encounter Lourié’s penultimate work, his latter preoccupation with ritual heard in a sequence of linked episodes conceptually of the ancient past yet aesthetically of the immediate present.

Does it all work?

Yes, notwithstanding that Lourié is a composer less occupied with any expressive or technical consistency than with imparting a ‘world view’ such as veers freely between past and present. These performances, recorded under the auspices of the Arthur Lourié Festival in Basel, are always attuned to his arresting idiom and have been recorded with the requisite spaciousness.

Is it recommended?

Indeed, and good to hear a follow-up volume from this source is forthcoming. In particular, Lourié’s music for string quartet would be necessary listening for anyone who has heard his epic first such work (recorded by the Asasello Quartett on Genuin GEN22745) in this genre.

Listen & Buy

You can listen to sample tracks and purchase on the Toccata Classics website. Click on the names for more on composer Arthur Lourié

Published post no.2,165 – Wednesday 1 May 2024

On Record – Solarek Piano Trio – Henriëtte Bosmans: Early Chamber Music (Toccata Classics)

Solarek Piano Trio [Marina Solarek (violin), Miriam Lowbury (cello), Andrew Bottrill (piano)

Henriëtte Bosmans
Arietta (1917)
Violin Sonata (1918)
Piano Trio (1921)

Toccata Classics TOCC0654 [55’22’’]
Producer Ian Dean Engineers Bárbara Santos & Carlos Jesús
Recorded 6-7 April 2022 at Arda Studio A, Porto

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics continues its exploration of neglected and overlooked figures with a release of early pieces for chamber forces by Henriëtte Bosmans (1895-1952), Dutch composer and pianist whose eventful life drew attention away from her substantial and distinctive output.

What’s the music like?

Although her later music has latterly enjoyed performance and recording, that from Bosman’s formative years has had little exposure, making the pieces recorded here the more welcome – not least for underlining that her journey toward compositional maturity was a successful one.

The Violin Sonata is certainly a statement of intent. Its first of four movements is a substantial sonata design, the impulsive then ruminative main themes duly repeated prior to an extensive development (the transition into which derives from this latter theme rather than being a new idea as such); one whose understated resourcefulness continues throughout an altered reprise then suddenly decisive coda. The other movements (shorter even when combined) comprise a tensile and agitated scherzo, its absence of any trio section making contrast with the ethereal ‘song without words’ of the Adagio the more potent, then a finale that fails less by recycling themes previously encountered as by being too emotionally temperate to round off the whole with quite the resolution needed. This is an appealing and frequently prophetic piece, even so.

A few years later and the Piano Trio finds such promise being amply met. The initial Allegro maintains unflagging impetus that is by no means offset in the second theme, with its sultrily modal colouring, and abetted by the cello’s playing for much of the time in its higher register. After this, the central Andante ably fulfils its role within the overall scheme – the undulating moodiness of its main theme twice contrasted with livelier music, before finding repose at its bittersweet last hearing. It thus remains for the finale, prefaced by a cadenza-like passage, to restore the earlier energy with a dance-like theme which draws an almost orchestral sonority from the three instruments. A secondary idea elaborates on the material of that introduction, while the main theme returns to see this work through to its conclusion with some abandon.

Between these works comes the brief but enticing Ariëtta which is of interest for inhabiting the lower reaches of the violin’s compass (thereby making performances on viola the more common), and which adds to the solemn if not unduly earnest aura of its expressive profile.

Does it all work?

Not entirely, though such failings as there are constitute part of the interest here and the Piano Trio is evidently a minor masterpiece. Performances by the members of the Solarek Trio are never less than sympathetic, but would have benefited from a more sympathetic ambience, as that here has a narrow perspective such as robs them of any subtlety or finesse (those having spent numerous evenings at the British Music Information Centre in London will know what to expect). What is never in doubt is the dedication or the commitment of this music-making.

Is it recommended?

Yes, with reservations as outlined above. The two main works now have rival recordings by the Brundibar Ensemble (Fineline Classics FL72416) but this Toccata release is not thereby outclassed, while its annotations from violinist Marina Solarek are succinct and informative.

Listen & Buy

You can listen to sample tracks and purchase on the Toccata Classics website. Click on the names for more on the Solarek Piano Trio, and on composer Henriëtte Bosmans

Published post no.2,165 – Wednesday 1 May 2024

On Record – Leon Bosch, Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra of Ukraine / Theodore Kuchar – Thomas de Hartmann: Orchestral Music Vol. 2 (Toccata Classics)

Leon Bosch (double bass), Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra of Ukraine / Theodore Kuchar

Thomas de Hartmann
Symphonie-Poème no.1 Op.50 (1934)
Fantaisie-Concerto Op.65 (1942)

Toccata Classics TOCC0676 [81’49’’]
Producers and Engineers Andriy Mokrytskiy and Oleksii Grytsyshyn
Recorded 15-23 September at National Philharmonic Hall, Lviv

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics continues its exploration of orchestral music by Thomas de Hartmann with first recordings for two of his most characteristic works, idiomatically realized by the most fervent of present-day advocates and further confirming the intrinsic value of this composer.

What’s the music like?

De Hartmann heralded a return to original composition, after more than a decade focussed on his collaboration with philosopher Georges Gurdjieff, with the first of four pieces designated Symphonie-Poème. Those having heard the unfinished last of these (recorded on TOCC0633) may be taken aback by what they encounter – this 65-minute work drawing on such expansive symphonic precursors as Rachmaninoff’s Second and Glière’s Third, but with a formal logic and harmonic practice all its own. Not least in the imposing first movement, whose brooding introduction presages its synthesis of fantasia and fugue with an underpinning of sonata form to result in a construct as diverse in musical content as it feels cumulative in its overall design.

That the composer continued from here says much for his ambition, but the work does justify itself as a totality – whether in a Scherzo that unfolds as continually evolving structure rather than the usual ternary form, an Andante whose recourse to martial rhythm and Ukrainian folk -music gives it a distinctive colouring and emotional affect, then finale (interestingly marked Allegretto feroce) such as projects this covertly autobiographical statement defiantly into the ‘present’ through a trenchant rhythmic profile that builds inexorably toward the visceral close. Received with guarded admiration and not a little consternation at performances in Paris and Brussels in the mid-1930s, this is a major inter-war work as well warrants its belated revival.

So, too, does the Fantaisie-Concerto which de Hartmann wrote with the double-bass playing of Serge Koussevitzky vivid in his mind’s ear decades afterwards (the latter had long since turned to conducting, and it is not stated who premiered this piece). Drawing on elements of dance, the outer Allegros indicate those quizzical and capricious qualities which come to the fore in the composer’s later music, but the central Adagio leaves the most lasting impression. This ‘Romance 1830’ draws on an earlier setting of Vasily Zhukovsky, along with images of Glinka and his bass-playing servant, in what is a ‘song without words’ of no mean eloquence or evocative poise: qualities duly enhanced by the subtle understatement of its orchestration.

Does it all work?

Yes, though the larger work will likely take a few listens for its overall coherence to become manifest. That it does so is owing primarily to the conviction of de Hartmann’s thinking, but also to that of Theodore Kuchar in having the measure of this opulent score and conveying it to the musicians of the Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra, who almost always sound unfazed by its demands. The concerto benefits from the expertise of Leon Bosch, affirming this as among a handful of pieces that establish the double bass as a concertante instrument in its own right.

Is it recommended?

Indeed – not least as the orchestral sound has been so sympathetically captured, detailed and spacious in equal measure, with informative notes by Elan Sicroff and Evan A. MacCarthy on life and work respectively. Cordially recommended, with the third instalment keenly awaited.

Listen & Buy

You can listen to sample tracks and purchase on the Toccata Classics website. For further information on the artists, click on the names for more on Leon Bosch, Theodore Kuchar and the Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra Click on the name for more on composer Thomas de Hartmann

Published post no.2,158 – Wednesday 24 April 2024