A number of instruments
are under threat today because not enough
children are taking them up. These include
the trombone, the tuba, the viola, the
double bass, the oboe - and the bassoon.
You’ll notice that most of these are
lower pitched instruments, which are
also large, difficult to transport and
expensive. The oboe doesn’t appear to
fit these specifications but because
of its double reed, it is much more
difficult (in the early stages at least)
than the flute or clarinet, and so tends
to lose out to them.
The bassoon is at a
disadvantage on all counts, for it is
quite cumbersome and very expensive,
and, like the oboe, difficult to play
because of its double-reed. Add to that
its complex fingerings and its apparent
lack of solo repertoire, and it isn’t
hard to understand why there is a critical
shortage of promising young bassoonists
today.
Apparent lack
of solo repertoire, please note; and
indeed, on closer inspection, you find
that there is a huge treasury of music
for this wonderful and unique instrument.
Vivaldi, for example, wrote well over
thirty concertos, and there is a mass
of attractive Baroque, Classical and
later music. For some reason, though,
bassoonists - and I speak as one myself
- seem a somewhat unadventurous bunch,
and sadly much of it still remains unexplored.
Not so Laurence Perkins!
He has produced a number of recordings
over the years, often with eye-catching
titles. Who could forget ‘L’Après-Midi
d’un Dinosaur’, his first disc for Hyperion,
for example? Here is another imaginative
and varied collection, played sensitively
and musically by Mr. Perkins, and ably
accompanied by Ronald Corp and his New
London Symphony Orchestra.
These are very much
bite-sized pieces, the longest track
being the ‘title track’ by Gilbert Vinter
at just 6:33 – a jolly number with rag-time
rhythms. To balance this, there is plenty
of variety, with some 19th
century ‘lollipops’ – Godfrey’s ‘Lucy
Long’, Gounod’s ‘Funeral March of a
Marionette’ (which may well appeal to
Hitchcock fans if they recall its use
as his signature tune back in the 1950s),
along with a number of folk-music inspired
pieces, ranging from Vaughan Williams’
tiny ‘Studies in English Folk-Song’
to some arrangements of Perkins’ own.
The most appealing of these I found
to be ‘Bonny at Morn’, attractively
orchestrated, and hauntingly wistful.
The set includes two
little masterpieces; the first is Elgar’s
‘Romance’ for bassoon and orchestra,
written around the same time as the
Violin Concerto. Elgar played the bassoon
as a young man, and the piece is beautifully
conceived for the instrument. The other
is the Ravel ‘Habañera’, which
sounds as magical as ever in this arrangement
by Arthur Hoërée. Perkins
is at his best here, bending the music
stylishly, and even managing a couple
of semi glissandi towards the end –
extremely tricky to accomplish on the
bassoon.
I admire Perkins’ playing
very much; it is expressive and highly
polished. Sometimes, though, his tone
lacks intensity and bloom, particularly
in the middle register, and this has
led to one or two balance problems e.g.
in ‘Mist-covered Mountains’. But this
is a small carp, and generally, this
is a most entertaining and engaging
collection. It concludes with a real
Victorian speciality – the humorous
song ‘The Bassoon’, full of mischievous
double-entendre. This excellent encore,
fit to be set alongside Elgar’s ‘Smoking
Cantata’ which received its first
recording this year (all 51 seconds
of it!), is by the ‘mystery man’ J.
Quentyn Ashlyn, and let’s hope this
triggers a revival of his songs, which
were apparently hugely popular in the
1890s.
Gwyn Parry-Jones