RICHARD ARNELL
A PERSONAL TRIBUTE
by Dr. David
C.F. Wright
©
David Wright
Ph.D
This article,
or any part of it, must not be reproduced
in part or in whole in any way whatsoever
without prior written consent of the author.
(Photograph
© Avril Curzon 1997)
If there were to be a debate on who
was the greatest living British symphonist,
Richard Arnell would arguably be among
the leading contenders.
Many years ago, when I was exclusively
steeped in atonal, serial and experimental
music, I unintentionally heard the finale
of Arnell’s Symphony no 5, Op.
77, which he had composed in memory
of his father. It was big, romantic,
lush, tuneful, colourfully orchestrated
and full of life. It possessed a transcendent
power to transport the listener to a
‘better world’. In fact, a
friend, having heard the work several
times drifted into sleep in the finale
on a later occasion and when I woke
her she remonstrated with me, saying,
"I thought I was in heaven, listening
to the music of angels!" This symphony
bowled me over and destroyed any prejudices
that I previously had. It is a symphony
that has the rarest of qualities in
that it is a work of which one can never
tire ... but then, as I was to discover
later, that could be said of all Arnell’s
symphonies, and many other of his works
as well. That this splendid work is
not available on a commercial recording
is unforgivable. The distinguished conductor,
the late Bryden Thomson told me that
it was ‘a work to fall in love
with’. Another musician said, "Arnell
is the English Rachmaninov!" My friend
was not referring to anything pianistic
but to the sheer beauty of Arnell’s
melody and orchestration. If you like
Rachmaninov’s orchestral scores,
you will equally value Arnell’s,
yet it must be emphasised that his music
is his own, clearly unique and personal.
The eminent Irish composer, Gerard Victory,
said of Arnell’s Symphony no 3,
Op. 40, and this Fifth Symphony, "I
wish I had written them!" Of all my
many correspondents, the symphony they
most want to hear and have recorded
is Arnell’s Fifth. Letters to this
effect regularly appear in music journals.
Richard Anthony
Sayer Arnell was born in Hampstead,
North London on 15 September 1917,
to Richard Sayer, a builder and Héléne
Marie (née Sherf). Tony was
an only child and had his first piano
lessons with his governess, Marjorie
Calder. He attended Hall School, a
preparatory school in Hampstead (1924-7),
and University College School, also
in Hampstead (1927-35) where, in his
spare time, he formed a dance band
and made 16mm films. He attended the
Royal College of Music from 1935 to
1939, studying the piano with John
Dykes, and composition with John Ireland,
having been recommended to the RCM
by Dr Richard Chanter, the music master
at his last school.
In 1938 the students
at the college performed his now forgotten
Violin Concerto. His first
professional broadcast was that of
his Classical Variations, Op. 1,
for strings, relayed on WQXR, New
York on 31 December 1941. But it was
probably his Overture: New Age,
Op. 2, that established him as
a composer. It was first performed
in Carnegie Hall, under Leon Barzin
in 1941.
Tony, as he is known
to his friends, had visited the New
York World Fair in 1939. Then war
broke out and he had become a father.
The British Consulate advised him
to stay in America. He was drafted
into the US Army in 1943 but later
rejected on medical grounds.
Arnell has always
hated war and revolution. He had been
born during the First World War and
his mother died in the blitz in 1942.
This loathing of war, and the emotional
involvement with it, led him to set
Sir Stephen Spender’s The
War God, Op. 36 in 1945, premiered
in New York under Bernard Herrmann
that year having been commissioned
by CBS. It was originally scored for
soprano, chorus and orchestra but,
in the mid 1980s, it was revised as
his opus 155 and scored for narrator,
soprano, brass, percussion, synthesisers,
chorus and tape. The revised version
was premiered at St Johns, Smith Square
on 14 March 1987 with the composer
as narrator and Miriam Bowen, the
soprano soloist. Olivia Blackburn
is the excellent soprano soloist in
the performance I have of Ode to
the West Wind, Op. 59, which displays
the mercurial purity of her voice
in the compelling vocal line of this
work. It is a work to treasure having
been written for Emily Hooke who never
performed it. It was premiered by
Jennifer Vyvian and Sir Thomas Beecham.
Tony writes well for the voice and
it is a pity he has not written more
vocal works, although, in a recent
conversation he has told me that he
is currently working on two song cycles.
In his first years
in America, Arnell wrote his Sinfonia
quasi variazione, Op. 13, which
is his first symphony but he did not
allocate it a number ‘wondering
whether it was really a symphony!’
He composed a splendid orchestral
score for Robert Flaherty’s documentary
film, The Land. Arnell enjoyed
America and from 1943 to 1945; he
was a consultant for the BBC North
America Service. He lived a Bohemian
existence with his first wife and
daughter in rented bedsits and even
had to rent a piano.
While in the States
Arnell met Sir Thomas Beecham who
was to give Tony eight premieres,
both in England and America, including
Arnell’s first commercial recording,
the Ballet Suite: Punch and the
Child, Op. 49, with the Royal
Philharmonic Orchestra. Arnell was
friendly with John Barnett, the associate
conductor of the New York City Orchestra
who liked the overture: New Age,
but a proposed performance was rejected
by the orchestra’s committee.
One of America’s most aggressive
critics (he was later to ‘savage’
Arnell’s Symphony no. 1, Op.
31, sometimes known as the Chamber
Symphony) had Sir Thomas’s
ear and told him about Tony who was
summoned to the Ritz in 1941. On the
telephone, Arnell told the conductor
that he had several orchestral works,
which brought the response, "Bring
a suitcase full, my boy!"
The Symphony
no. 1, is a very attractive work
full of melodic invention, an enviable
clarity of texture and a welcome contrast
of energy and tenderness. It is eminently
likeable but never trite or banal.
It has a freshness to commend it as
well. The Symphony no. 2, Op. 33,
was written in New York in 1942 and,
while Beecham wanted to perform it,
it had to wait until 1988 for its
premiere in a broadcast by the BBC
Philharmonic under Sir Edward Downes.
Again, it is a work of translucent
texture and clarity. One may detect
some minor influences of Hindemith
and, perhaps, a few Sibelian chord
progressions. The music has a brightness,
a cheerfulness that one might not
have expected from the dark days of
the war. It is engaging music conveying
the promise of something held in reserve.
The slow movement reveals such insight
as orchestral solos comment on the
themes. While the music is deeply
felt, it is not oppressive or intrusive
but retains its simplicity, which,
in itself, and, perhaps, paradoxically,
enhances its profundity; there is
a glowing warmth, not a burning heat,
there is sentiment but no sentimentality.
The orchestral solos seem to conjure
up human voices making the symphony
intimate as well as intriguing. Even
when the music becomes agitated, the
composer is always in control. A soaring
violin theme towards the end of the
second movement is all too brief to
do justice to its beauty. Nostalgia
is also here but not of the wallowing
kind. The finale makes melodic statements
which are initially reserved in their
presentation, thus heightening our
expectation that the music will eventually
explode, and it does indeed build
up through the natural process of
the musical arguments, achieving a
commendable grandeur. As with all
his music, there are no pompous or
empty gestures. Arnell is out to write
music, not to swank. As in the Symphony
no. 1, and indeed much of his
orchestral works, Arnell treats the
orchestra as intimate groups of people
and not as a machine, thus displaying
his musical humanity.
The Symphony
no. 3, is a massive work in five
movements lasting about sixty five
minutes and is dedicated to the ‘political
courage of the British people’.
This also dates from the war years
and in this symphony Arnell identifies
with Britain and his own suffering
people, including his mother, murdered
at the hands of the Blitzkrieg. It
is Arnell’s ‘eroica’,
a heroic and noble work but not exaggerated
in any way by stuffy pomp and pageantry.
Arnell does not regard this as a war
symphony, and it certainly does not
portray the Nazi war machine or machine-gun
fire as in Shostakovitch’s war
symphonies. Rather, it is music of
the invincible human spirit as opposed
to Shostakovitch’s militarism
or Mahler’s exhausting and overwhelming
music especially his Symphony no.
6, which, incidentally, uses an anvil
as does Arnell’s Sixth.
Space will not permit
a detailed analysis of the Symphony
no. 3 but in the opening prelude
and first movement the message is
clear. There is a quasi-march and
a sort of fate motif. The music is
strong, with a controlled patriotism,
semi-brooding, thoughtful, introspective,
self-examining and extolling the courage
of the British people. Yet, thankfully,
the music is not self-indulgent. The
themes are memorable; one slightly
hints at Country Gardens but what
this opening movement embodies is
the sensibility of the mature British
people as well as their ability for
harmless fun and their common spirit
and bond. One clearly hears ‘music
of courage’ and, while it is
music of its time, it is music for
all times and all peoples. Within
its pages one can visualise children
playing as well as people in the ‘services’,
the devoted housewife, the loyal friend,
the qualities of community spirit
in adversity; all are paradoxically
‘aurally visible’ in this
impressive music which is never exaggerated.
We do not have extended passages of
noise, the climaxes are natural progressions
of music thought.
The symphony was
first broadcast by the BBC Northern
Symphony under Norman Del Mar on 16
April 1952 and the first concert performance
was at the Cheltenham Festival on
9 June 1953 with the Hallé
Orchestra under Sir John Barbirolli
who insisted it be cut by some twenty
minutes, a mistake if there ever was
one. Leave this score as it is; it
is his masterpiece. It might be thought
that the next work in this genre fails
to reach the same heights, yet the
Symphony no. 4, Op. 52 does
not disappoint. It appeared in 1948
shortly after Arnell’s return
from America and was first performed
by the BBC Northern Symphony Orchestra
under Charles Groves. It is in three
movements and the timpanist is given
an important role and, indeed, introduces
the opening melodic line, both gently
warm and beautiful, interrupted first
by the timpani and then the brass.
Sinister elements appear but the melodic
line, which is of considerable beauty,
is never far away. The main allegro
follows, always full of interest and
vitality and the cheerful ebullience
inherent in so much of Arnell’s
work takes centre stage. It is rugged
‘outdoor’ music of great
strength and determination. As with
all his music that I know, there is
a satisfying continuity, a resilience
and compellingly memorable material.
This could be interpreted as a victory
symphony, a portrayal of triumph over
the tyrant and of good over evil.
The second movement
is sunny and the orchestration again
demonstrates that uncanny ‘speaking’
and ‘intimate’ quality.
It is this undeniable gift for communication
that cannot but inspire the listener.
And there is something exquisitely
‘English’ towards the end
of this remarkably beautiful movement
with its unforgettable melodic lines.
The finale begins
with the timpani and gradually, and
logically, the material takes shape
and, again, there is this suspense,
this ‘waiting for’ the convergence
of all the ideas into a climax, and
when it comes, one is not let down
and the high spirits of the brass
are most welcome.
Following the Symphony
no. 5, about which enthusiasm
is widespread there is a Wind Symphony,
Op. 113 and the Symphony no.
6, subtitled ‘The Anvil’
written between 1992-94 as his
opus 179. It is in four sections and
the first begins with a piano chord
and a clang on the anvil; the second
section quotes from Shelley - "We
are many" - and, as in the setting
of his Ode to the West Wind
is really about freedom; the anvil
of this symphony may speak of both
freedom and of peace with the Old
Testament concept of converting both
swords and spears into agricultural
instruments. The third section uses
the piano in a concertante style and
the last section draws on the Ode
to Joy from Beethoven’s Choral
Symphony. It is peace and freedom
and the absence of war and all and
any hostilities that alone can bring
joy, faith in God and trust in all
fellow men. This symphony was premiered
in a broadcast by the BBC Philharmonic
under Adrian Leaper in 1995. Unlike
its predecessors it displays striking
dissonances, it is a compelling piece
- Arnell is currently working on his
Seventh Symphony which he is
to call ‘M’ Symphony
no. 7, for President Mandela.
Sadly, I only know
two of Arnell’s six string quartets,
the last four of which have all been
premiered at the Cheltenham Festival,
as was the String Quintet, which made
its appearance in 1950. The Quartet
no. 3, Op. 41, was written in
New York in 1945 and its heart is
its beautifully integrated slow movement.
The Quartet no. 5, Op. 99,
dates from 1962 and has been very
well received at all its performances.
As with the Symphony no. 6,
there are some harsh dissonances and
it has a novelty of form. The opening
Andante maestoso is a canon
on four subjects; there is a very
attractive Andante, an accompanied
cello solo, a duo for violin and viola,
a trio and then all four players unite
to conclude the work.
There are many other
fine works; an exciting piano concerto,
Op. 44, dating from his American
years, and a second, Op. 110, entitled
Sections written for John Ogdon
and to commemorate the twenty-first
birthday of the Royal Philharmonic
Orchestra and first performed by Ogdon
and the RPO under the composer at
the Fairfield Hall, Croydon on 16
September 1967, a day after Tony’s
fiftieth birthday. There is the popular
Serenade, Op. 57, for ten wind
instruments and double bass recorded
by Karl Haas and the London Baroque
Ensemble on a Pye record, and Nicholas
Jackson recorded the organ music for
RCA.
Since this article
was first written in June 1996 for
the BMS to publish in celebration
of Tony’s 80th birthday,
Robert Simpson and Sir Michael Tippett,
leading British symphonists, have
both died. There is, therefore, an
even stronger claim to present Richard
Arnell as our greatest living symphonist.
A leading British
composer recently told me that Arnell’s
symphonies were more substantial than
those of Malcolm Arnold; more approachable
than either those by Robert Simpson
or Tippett; more melodic and far better
structured than those by George Lloyd,
and possess a wonderful colour not
found in the symphonies of Edmund
Rubbra. Yet the symphonies of these
five composers are available on commercial
recordings.
©
David C.F. Wright 1996 - Revised 1997
Since June 1998
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