Daniel Jones by
Hubert Culot
This is the first of
a series of several articles devoted
to composers belonging to what I refer
to as the "Lost Generation".
Bernard Stevens, Peter
Racine Fricker and Benjamin
Frankel will hopefully be dealt
with later on. A common feature shared
by these composers is that they generally
relied on dodecaphonic or serial techniques
while maintaining some sense of tonality
and without thus accepting all the implications
and constraints of what might too easily
become a rigid straitjacket. This very
attitude made them outsiders somewhat
sitting between two stools, too modern
for traditionalists and too reactionary
for the avant-garde clique. The direct
result is that they were all rather
neglected by both sides of the musical
establishment although some isolated
first performances and scattered recordings
helped maintain their names and their
works in a somewhat uncertain twilight.
Times have now changed and their music
might now, at long last, regain some
well-deserved recognition and appraisal.
Daniel Jones was born in Pembroke in
1912. He started composing at four,
wrote ten piano sonatas before he was
nine. He was later educated at the University
of Wales of which he held the M.A.,
D.Mus. and Honorary D.Litt. degrees
and at the Royal Academy of Music of
which he was an Associate. He also won
the Mendelssohn Travelling Scholarship
which allowed him to study abroad. Quite
early in his career Jones developed
a system of Complex Metres which he
first used in 1936 and which is carried
perhaps to its furthest extreme in the
Sonata for Three Non-Chromatic Kettledrums.
"The unifying element of a fixed
pattern is present, but the pattern
itself is asymmetrical, therefore, with
a powerful means of satisfying structural
requirements, there would seem to be
possible both a greater variety and
a greater subtlety in the rhythm-meter
relationship" (Daniel Jones, The
Score, June 1950). He nevertheless insisted
that, far from being just a mathematical
game, this system also had an aesthetic
basis.
In 1950 his Symphonic Prologue was
awarded the first prize of the Royal
Philharmonic society. By then he had
already embarked on his life-long project
of composing twelve symphonies, each
of them being centred on a semi-tone
of the chromatic scale. His second symphony
was written for the Festival of Britain
in 1951. Many of his later works were
written to commission. The Royal National
Eisteddfod commissioned the fourth symphony
In Memory of Dylan Thomas. Thomas, a
very close friend of Jones for nearly
thirty years, died under tragic circumstances
in New York on the 9 November 1953,
at the age of thirty-nine. In response
Jones chose to write an elegiac symphony
which was duly completed in 1954. The
fourth symphony is a fine example of
what Jones has been aiming at throughout
his long creative life.
"The aim of the music, however,
is expressive, and, in a sense, narrative.
Such a combination may seem to anybody
yet another paradox; but, to judge,
for example from The Knife and Orestes,
which are similarly constructed, the
composer evidently does not fear that
the dramatic effect will be endangered
by strictness of form; indeed, it is
his view that expressive and structural
elements in music are not merely compatible,
they are mutually indispensable"
(Daniel Jones, sleeve notes, Oriel ORM
1004). He continued: "a symphony
is a dramatic structure, with an emotive
intention... but - and this is by far
the more common situation in all instrumental
music - the emotive intention cannot
be fairly expressed in words, even though
it is obviously present" (Daniel
Jones, sleeve notes, Oriel ORM 1002).
This is a very typical attitude of
Jones who, in his sleeve notes, generally
viewed his music in technical and structural
terms, though always insisting that
expressivity was the primary aim of
his music. Emotion and lyricism prevail
in his music though he always managed
to avoid any sentimentality. Just listen
to the beautiful first movement or the
orchestral intermezzo Winged Messengers
of his cantata The Country beyond the
Stars (1958). His music is generally
terse, without any aimless meanderings.
It always bluntly goes straight to the
point, sometimes with rudeness or ruggedness,
but never loses sight of the ultimate,
expressive aim that is its very heart.
In 1963 Jones was elected a Fellow
of the Institute of Arts and Letters
and his opera The Knife received its
first performance at Sadler s Wells
by the New Opera Company. In 1964 he
completed the Symphony No. 5, a commission
by the BBC, and the Symphony No. 6 commissioned
again by the Royal National Eisteddfod.
The sixth symphony has six movements
arranged into three pairs, the members
of each pair being joined without a
break, while the pairs are separated
from one another by silences. Jones
regularly experimented with different
symphonic structures. "I see no
point in writing virtually the same
symphony over again, and make a deliberate
attempt to vary my approach to the problems
of melody, tonality, structure and orchestration
while remaining naturally recognisable
as myself."
Each symphony has its own tone colour
in which instruments or groups of instruments
play some kind of leading (or rather
unifying) part. Kenneth Loveland (Music
and Musicians December 1982) mentions
that the most notable changes in Jones
music in recent years have been a clarification
of style, refinement of textures, the
use of shorter motifs, a tighter concentration
of material, and therefore brevity of
expression. "The bigger symphonies
were right for me at the time. I stand
by them, but would not write like that
today" (Daniel Jones, same 1982
article).
In 1967 Jones one-act opera Orestes,
a BBC commission, was broadcast but
has as yet to be staged. In 1968 Jones
was appointed OBE. 1972 was a particularly
prolific year for he composed the Sinfonietta,
the Symphony No. 7 commissioned by the
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and dedicated
to Charles Groves, and the Symphony
No. 8 commissioned by the Swansea Festival.
Symphony No. 9 (1974) was a commission
from the Llandaff Festival. In the meantime
Jones had also continued working on
his long series of string quartets.
These are not numbered but only bear
the date of composition, thus String
Quartet 1957 . He had actually composed
string quartets earlier in his career
but he disowned all his earlier string
quartets and retained those dating after
1957. "They were just not good
enough. Bad in every way. Bad style,
bad technique" (Daniel Jones, Music
and Musicians December 1982). He also
wrote a number of miscellaneous chamber
works including a cello sonata, a wind
quintet, a string trio 1970 and the
already mentioned Sonata for Three Non-Chromatic
Kettledrums.
From 1975 onwards he continued composing
what might eventually be viewed as the
backbone of his entire output, i.e.
his symphonies and string quartets.
Symphony No. 10 was completed in 1981
and the last of the projected series,
Symphony No. 12, in 1985. This was followed
by a fine Cello Concerto (1986) and
by another, though unnumbered, symphony
Symphony in Memory of John Fussell.
His very last completed work was String
Quartet 1993 . Though symphonies and
string quartets were central to Daniel
Jones output, it also included a number
of choral-orchestral works (The Witnesses,
Hear the Voice of the Ancient Bard,
St Peter), a violin concerto and a good
deal of shorter orchestral works (e.g.
the tone-poem The Cloud Messenger, the
fine Dance Fantasy of 1976 and the overture
Ieunenctid, to mention just a few I
know). The present survey of Jones large
and varied output is, I am afraid, rather
sketchy and far from complete. It is
based on the works I know, but each
of them has long convinced me that Jones
was a very distinguished composer whose
major works certainly deserve a wider
recognition for all their qualities
of earnestness, assuredness, sureness
of touch and - more importantly still
- their deeply human honesty.
(c) Hubert Culot