Kenneth Leighton
(1929-88)
With the death of Kenneth Leighton in
1988 the world lost a composer of great
distinction. Born in Wakefield on October
2 1929, he was a chorister at Wakefield
Cathedral and was educated at the Queen
Elizabeth Grammar School. While still
at school he gained the LRAM Piano Performers
diploma.
In 1947 he went up
to The Queen's College, Oxford on a
Hastings Scholarship in Classics: in
1951 he graduated both BA in Classics
and BMus, having studied with Bernard
Rose. In the same year he won the Mendelssohn
Scholarship and went to Rome to study
with Petrassi.
Kenneth Leighton was
Professor of Theory at the Royal Marine
School of Music 1951-53 and Gregory
Fellow in Music at the University of
Leeds 1953-55. In 1956 he was appointed
Lecturer in Music at the University
of Edinburgh where he was made Senior
Lecturer and then Reader. In 1968 he
returned to Oxford as University Lecturer
in Music and Fellow of Worcester College.
In October 1970 he was appointed Reid
Professor of Music at the University
of Edinburgh, the post which he held
until his death in 1988.
Among the many prizes
for composition awarded to him were
the Busoni Prize (1956), the National
Federation of Music Societies Prize
for the best choral work of the year
(1960), the City of Trieste First Prize
for a new symphonic work (1965), the
Bernard Sprengel Prize for chamber music
(1966) and the Cobbett Medal for distinguished
service to chamber music (1967).
In 1970 the University
of Oxford awarded him the Doctorate
of Music, and in 1977 he was made an
Honorary Doctor of the University of
St. Andrews. He was elected a Fellow
of the Royal College of Music in 1982.
As a pianist Kenneth
Leighton was a frequent recitalist and
broadcaster, both as soloist and in
chamber music. His music is widely performed
and in increasingly available on CD.
Mrs J.A. Leighton,
38 McLaren Road,
EDINBURGH,
EH9 2BN,
Scotland
UK
Tel: 0131 667 3113
Email: Jo
Leighton
The
Leighton Trust (with link to concert
information)
Leighton
Discography
Kenneth Leighton - a 75th Anniversary
Tribute
by Paul Spicer
What makes a composer worthy of the
attention of posterity? Why does part
of this tribute regret the far-too-widespread
neglect of such a composer as Leighton?
To my mind, a composer should have the
technique to put his ideas across eloquently,
have the ideas worthy of that technique,
and an inner creative fire which communicates
those ideas powerfully. The commentator
Hugh Ottaway once said most tellingly,
'idioms come and go and history finds
little to choose between them; the enduring
factor is the quality of thought, which
alone makes the idiom a living and vital
thing'. At one stroke he demolishes
the whole fashion bandwagon and puts
the emphasis squarely where it belongs
on the composer's creative integrity.
Leighton always had a very strong Romantic
streak. His earliest works such as the
beautiful Veris Gratia for oboe, cello
and strings show his indebtedness to
Vaughan Williams. It is no surprise
that Gerald Finzi at the end of his
life championed his music, encouraging
this shy, working class northern lad,
giving him his first performances with
the Newbury String Players and thus
gaining Leighton's eternal gratitude.
Wakefield Cathedral was the first point
of musical inspiration, and here it
was that Leighton discovered the great
panoply of music for the church which
he himself so greatly enriched in future
years. Careful nurturing at Oxford by
Bernard Rose in particular ensured that
his extraordinary natural compositional
talent should be developed and recognised.
First success came in the form of a
Mendelssohn scholarship to study with
Petrassi in Rome in 1951-2. This experience
gave him wings and allowed his natural
lyricism to flow between the science
of contemporary techniques (which he
used but rarely allowed to dictate style)
and the ebb and flow of timeless counterpoint
of which he was a master.
Leighton's stated influences were many
and varied and included Bach and Brahms.
If his developing style seemed far removed
from the sound world of these mentors,
essential elements of their style and
processes became his staple diet. One
of the most significant statements of
Leighton's process came when he said
'All my days are spent trying to find
a good tune'. If this is an exaggeration,
it underlines the most important quality
of his music which he shares with Bach
and Brahms, that of lyricism. He also
gained another hugely powerful tool
from them in his use of pathos. Brahms
understood the power of pathos instinctively.
One only has to look at the simplicity
of that perfect piano Intermezzo op.117
no.1 or the Amen from the Geistliches
Lied op.30 to know how deeply he understood
the power of quiet, reflective simplicity
to affect the senses. Leighton, too,
understood this and the third of the
Romantic Pieces for piano op.95 is a
moving example. This piece, for me,
sums up why I believe Leighton deserves
that recognition from posterity which
I questioned earlier. It is only one
example of which there are many, but
it demonstrates timeless qualities which
I believe to be essential to the positive
judgement of future generations including
a deep sense of humanity, of quiet protest,
of overriding sensitivity, of joy and
sadness, of resignation, and in the
end quiet acceptance of the inevitable.
It is a life's journey in microcosm.
Leighton talked of 'wonder' in nature
when referring to his solo cantata Earth,
Sweet Earth op.94. And if one characteristic
seems to communicate above all others
in his music it is this searching for
something other - for meaning in life
and the order of the universe, God and
Love which brings an added dimension
to his creative genius. Perhaps, if
I were to pare it down to its basic
elements I would recognise the quality
of ecstatic spirituality which is seen
in both his life-enhancing scherzi as
well as his reflective meditations.
Possibly Leighton's strongest card,
however, is that all this emotional
content is so finely balanced with the
acuteness of his intellect and his ability
as a pianist. Each of these elements
fed the others. Thus, there was always
the practitioner's practical appraisal
of what was possible in performance
and the intellectual's appraisal of
the challenge of balancing the elements
of heart and mind, style and content.
Nowhere is this more clearly demonstrated
than in the Fantasia Contrappuntistica
op.24 - a homage to Bach which won the
Busoni Prize and was premiered by Maurizio
Pollini in 1956.
Perhaps Leighton's misfortune was to
be born at a time when musical experimentation
was at its height. Thus, his rather
conservative style made even his serial
compositions a search for lyrical possibilities.
He was also to some extent a formulaic
composer whose mannerisms were often
transposed from work to work and detractors
would find reliance on certain notational
figures and rhythmic cells tiresome.
But this very insistence on his developed
style was part of what makes the unique
experience of Leighton's music. Hugh
Ottaway's assertion about idiom goes
to the heart of the matter. Sixteen
years after his untimely death we are
in a better position to recognise Leighton's
vibrant creativity, his deep sensitivity,
his communicating spirituality and the
depth of his intellectual and technical
prowess. We now need performers in all
genres to take this music to their hearts
and to allow it to work its magic on
a new generation of audiences.
© Paul Spicer
This article appeared
in The Full Score - a publication issued
by the MusicSales Group 2004