Onslow seems to be
making a comeback. No, that’s wrong.
He’s never been around in the first
place so record companies have begun
to discover his chamber and symphonic
music, which can only be good news for
those inquisitive into French music
in the period after Gossec and before
Berlioz. And yet even that’s not quite
right because the overlap with Berlioz
is crucial and was used as something
of a stick with which to beat the more
traditional minded Onslow. And this
in turn led to his eclipse in the minds
of a Franco-German audience that had
welcomed him wholeheartedly – and then
the wider pan-European audience that
saw triumphant revivals of his works.
But the seeds of his precipitous decline
were doubtless early sown. A symphonic
composer in an operatically inclined
Paris his symphonies had the misfortune
to be premiered in the wake of Berlioz’s
Sinfonie fantastique and Beethoven’s
Ninth. And so, by mid century and his
death in 1853 his eclipse was well and
truly total.
At this remove it’s
possible to hear what the fuss was about.
Yes, these are certainly big traditional
symphonic statements. Yes, they open
with portentous Largo introductions
and yes, the crisp post-classical writing
has clearly lent an ear to Schubert.
There’s a brief fugal episode as well
in the first movement of the A major
and strong writing for middle string
voices that in this performance are
magically apparent. The melodic distinction
is evident here as is the rather mobile
and strong approach to slow movements
(no sentimentalist, Onslow, even though
it’s marked espressivo). The A major’s
Minuet is bustly with ingenious pomposo
elements with a piping trio above stolid
bass line (a typically witty touch)
and the finale is confident if not altogether
distinctive.
The later work, the
Third Symphony, was completed three
years later. There’s fine writing for
bassoon and horn and a canny ear for
colour and texture but local detail
does tend to take precedence over novelty
of design; it tends to be rather static.
The rhythmically swaying scherzo adds
brio and the slow movement is notable
for the clarinet cantilena that flows
so warmly through it. But one can’t
really say that the work is an obvious
advance on the preceding two symphonies,
cogent and well argued though it undoubtedly
is.
The notes are very
full and frank, and they lay out the
Onslow symphonic dilemma with unusual
candour. The performances are detailed
and colourful and serious. Together
they make out a case for Onslow’s relative
importance in the scheme of things;
his is a voice that should be heard
and not simply in relation to other
bigger names.
Jonathan Woolf