Decca's homage to Walton in his centenary year takes 
          the form of this four-disc set which gathers together the various recordings 
          made by Andrew Litton and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra through 
          the 1990s. The original issues were rightly acclaimed, so this reissue 
          can be warmly welcomed as an outstanding contribution to the centenary 
          year. 
        
 
        
Andrew Litton consistently proves he has an affinity 
          with this music. On CD1 his performance of the First Symphony brings 
          the necessary rhythmic directness to the music, and is particularly 
          exciting. Here as elsewhere the excellent Decca recording aids the cause 
          to the full, while the playing of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra 
          is virtuoso, to say the least. There is great symphonic tension, one 
          of the strengths of this magnificent work, while the slow movement is 
          eloquent and deeply felt. Moreover the finale makes the kind of shattering 
          impact that Walton intended. He was always irritated by the critical 
          opinion that the finale was the weakest movement, calling it 'in many 
          respects the best of the four'. So he would have been pleased with what 
          Litton achieves here. 
        
 
        
The Symphony is coupled with the Cello Concerto, in 
          which Robert Cohen is the eloquent soloist. When in 1955 the great cellist 
          Gregor Piatigorsky commissioned a concerto, Walton's response was characteristic: 
          'I'm a composer. I'll write anything for anybody if he pays me. Naturally 
          I write much better if I'm paid in dollars.' The formula is similar 
          to those deployed in the other concertos, with a slow and reflective 
          opening movement, and the cello's extended first theme is among Walton's 
          finest inventions. To Piatigorsky he wrote: 'So happy you should think 
          the whole work wonderful. It is to my mind the best of my three concertos 
          - but don't say so to Heifetz.' Cohen's thoughtful approach serves the 
          music well, and his tone is always pleasing, not least in the final 
          movement's cadenza. It is a feature of this performance that the slower 
          music has a special tenderness, for example the transition into the 
          finale is most affecting. 
        
 
        
CD2 contains the Scapino Overture, the Violin 
          Concerto and the Symphony No. 2. The Violin Concerto (1939) was the 
          first major composition after the First Symphony, whose success had 
          spurred Jascha Heifetz to commission it. Walton feared that it was 'extremely 
          intimate, with not much show and bravura', but in the end it was enthusiastically 
          received, its volatile mixture of brilliance and tenderness proving 
          an ideal combination. Tasmin Little is an artist who has worked with 
          this orchestra and conductor on many occasions, and their close collaboration 
          pays dividends. As we might expect of a concerto written for Heifetz, 
          the virtuoso technical demands are fearsome, but they are triumphantly 
          met. 
        
 
        
The Scapino Overture, composed during 1940 for 
          the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's fiftieth anniversary, is at the same 
          time lively and elegant, with an exuberant Italianate mood inspired 
          by a commedia dell' arte figure, a servant in the mould of Till Eulenspiegel 
          and Leporello. The nature of Walton's overture is best indicated by 
          reference to the word derived from Scapino's name: escapade. These characteristics 
          are understood by Litton, whose rendition abounds in darting mischief. 
        
 
        
The Symphony No. 2 was commissioned in 1957 to celebrate 
          the city of Liverpool's 750th anniversary, but was only completed three 
          years later, receiving its first performance at the Edinburgh Festival. 
          Inevitably, it has remained in the shadow of its predecessor; but its 
          character is quite different and comparisons are unhelpful. The scale 
          is deliberately more restricted, the subtleties more concentrated - 
          only gradually are the music's secrets revealed, and with them its passionate 
          emotions. It does, however, require one of the largest orchestras Walton 
          ever employed (bigger than in the Symphony No. 1), and Litton takes 
          every opportunity to show the score's subtleties and strengths. His 
          powerful rendition of the passacaglia finale is most compelling. 
        
 
        
CD3 includes the instrumental suites drawn from Façade, 
          and two works connected with another giant of 20th music, Paul Hindemith. 
          After the headstrong Lionel Tertis had rejected the Viola Concerto, 
          the premiere was rescued by Hindemith, who was a talented violist as 
          well as a major composer. Walton never forgot this, and when he was 
          asked to compose an orchestral work for the Royal Philharmonic Society's 
          150th Anniversary in 1963, he wrote a set of variations on a theme taken 
          from Hindemith's Cello Concerto. 
        
 
        
The Variations on a Theme of Hindemith is one 
          of the best pieces Walton composed during the later stages of his career 
          (he had just turned sixty at the time). The orchestral writing is assured, 
          so too the balance of material imaginatively drawn from the source. 
          It is a veritable orchestral showpiece, which only the best orchestras 
          dare perform. The Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, which like Britain's 
          other regional orchestras is an international orchestra which happens 
          to be based in the regions, confirms its stature. The playing is assured, 
          though Andrew Litton's performance might have been a little more unbuttoned 
          had the players known the music more intimately. The recorded sound 
          is very good, since Southampton Guildhall has an excellent acoustic 
          for recordings. 
        
 
        
Paul Neubauer is an agile soloist in the Viola Concerto, 
          which is among Walton's handful of greatest achievements. The recorded 
          balance with the orchestra feels absolutely right, and he is not over-lit, 
          as string soloists can often be when recordings are made. The performance 
          has a real sense of ebb and flow, of tension and relaxation, and only 
          in terms of the soloist's richness of tone does the performance give 
          ground to the competition, such as Nigel Kennedy's pairing with the 
          Violin Concerto (EMI). This issue is most noticeable in the slower music, 
          of course. 
        
 
        
Andrew Litton has made his own selection from the two 
          instrumental suites Walton took from Façade. His preference 
          is to combine these short movements in his own order, which is clearly 
          explained in the listings. The suites bring plenty of solo opportunities, 
          and the Bournemouth players relish them. But whether the music is really 
          worth hearing in this arrangement is open to debate (I hope other people 
          enjoy it more than I do); certainly it seems a pale shadow of the original, 
          in which the witty delivery of the two narrators adds another dimension. 
          Take them away and the music seems short of personality and wit, like 
          a sandwich without the filling. In the context of the whole set, it 
          seems a pity that Litton chose to record this music rather than finer 
          pieces such as the Capriccio Burlesco and the Partita. 
        
 
        
CD4 has a splendid performance of Belshazzar's Feast, 
          well recorded in the ample acoustic of Winchester Cathedral. Thankfully 
          the acoustic is less ample as delivered by the Decca engineers than 
          it is 'in the flesh'. Bryn Terfel is predictably fine as the baritone 
          soloist, but the real stars of the show are the members of the Bournemouth 
          Symphony Orchestra, here augmented by extra brass players. The various 
          choral forces respond keenly to Litton's direction to make the most 
          of this highly dramatic work. 
        
 
        
Muir Mathieson's Suite from the Henry V film 
          music is heard in an evocative and atmospheric performance, though there 
          is no lack of excitement when the battle music comes along. The two 
          coronation marches can feature more orchestral detail than the Winchester 
          acoustic allows, but they are both given effective performances. Orb 
          and Sceptre is conducted by David Hill, who has enjoyed a close 
          relationship with the orchestra over many years, and the disc is completed 
          by his richly dramatic performance of the Coronation Te Deum. 
        
 
        
Decca provides detailed access points for all these 
          works, including each individual variation in the 'Hindemith' piece, 
          for example. And the booklet notes are full and very well organised, 
          including the full texts of the vocal pieces. 
          Terry Barfoot