Not only was the Violin
Concerto of Douglas Coates unknown to
me before receiving this disc for review.
I also confess that I’d never heard
of the composer at all.
Details of his life
and career are given in the admirable
booklet notes. However, in brief, he
was born in South Yorkshire and, doubtless
inspired by a very musical father, became
involved in local musical activities
from an early age. He flourished principally
as a church organist and choirmaster.
By 1924 he had moved to London. Almost
certainly this move was connected with
his employment with what was then the
Midland Bank with whom he stayed throughout
his working life. It’s quite possible
that the move was not voluntary for
in those days - and, indeed, until comparatively
recently - British banks would move
their staff round the country at will
and often at very short notice. Coates
continued to be very active as a conductor
and composer in the London area until
his death.
I approached this concerto
with no little curiosity, hoping that
Divine Art have restored to circulation
a neglected masterpiece. I don’t honestly
think that claim can be made for it,
however. Undoubtedly the concerto has
flaws. One of these is the balance of
the piece. It consists of three movements,
the first of which plays for 15:38.
The two succeeding movements take 4:57
and 4:32 respectively. This means that
the whole weight of the musical argument
is skewed towards the opening movement.
According to Lewis Foreman’s excellent
notes the conductor of this performance,
Sir Charles Groves, was critical of
this imbalance and, to be honest, I
think he may have had a point.
But there’s much to
admire in the long, sonata-form first
movement. It opens promisingly with
a nice thematic idea. I’m not entirely
convinced that the succeeding material
is as memorable. But the music is undoubtedly
ardent and also confident in tone and
the soloist is kept busy with a mixture
of singing lines and brilliant passagework.
Colin Sauer makes the best possible
case for the music. Indeed, he is a
most accomplished advocate. He’s balanced
pretty close so one can appreciate the
accuracy, technical command and sheer
commitment of his playing. I also relished
his purity of tone, which is not even
compromised by the most demanding of
swift passages. The orchestra is balanced
rather in the background and it’s not
always easy to hear what’s going on.
The scoring sounds somewhat thick in
places but this impression may be due
to the recording itself. It’s a pity
that, despite the best endeavours of
the restoration engineers, more detail
doesn’t emerge for the orchestra is
clearly an important protagonist in
the work. As it is, I think it would
have benefited the overall structure
of the piece if Coates had pruned the
first movement somewhat. It’s rather
to long for its own good and there were
times when I asked myself exactly where
the argument was going. Perhaps Coates
might have revised the work after hearing
what I assume was its first professional
performance - this recording was made
for his benefit, it seems - but he was
acutely disappointed by the reaction
to the piece at the BBC and it seems
that he may well have destroyed the
work, which is a great pity.
One thing that crossed
my mind as I listened was to wonder
who, if anyone, advised Coates on the
technical aspects of the violin. Did
he have someone who fulfilled for him
a similar function to that carried out
by W.H. Reed when Elgar was composing
his concerto? The point is relevant
since it doesn’t appear from the notes
that Coates played the instrument himself
yet to me, as a non-violinist, the writing
for the solo instrument, whilst challenging,
sounds to have come from the pen of
someone who knew what he was doing and
who understood the capabilities of the
instrument. This is evident not least
in the substantial cadenza in the first
movement (from 12:10 to 14:55). Coates
also wrote a sonata for the violin but
I don’t know if this preceded the concerto.
The second movement
is aptly described in the notes as "a
charming but slight interlude."
I found this movement somewhat frustrating
in that no sooner has Coates established
a good lyrical flow than he brings the
movement to an end. What there is of
it is promising but the ideas are insufficiently
developed in the movement’s short span.
The same is really true of the finale,
which is vigorous and busy but it’s
too short-winded and rather seems to
run out of steam.
I can’t help wondering
what would have happened had not Coates
been so discouraged in the aftermath
of this very performance. Might he have
benefited from the experience of a broadcast
professional performance and revised
the concerto? Of course, that may be
presumptuous on my part. Perhaps, had
he been satisfied with the experience
of the performance, he would have rested
content with the concerto in this form.
Idle to speculate, I suppose. And since
the performing materials are now lost,
it seems, this will probably be the
only chance that we shall ever get to
hear it and for that, despite the reservations
I’ve expressed - which others may not
share - we should be thankful. On one
point there can be no dispute: Colin
Sauer is a fine advocate of the work
and, in fact, it’s hard to think that
Coates could have been better served.
Committed advocacy
is also the order of the day in the
accompanying performance of the Moeran
concerto. This, at least, is better
known than the Coates though it’s nowadays
a rarity in the concert hall. However,
there is the fine recording made in
the late 1980s for Chandos by Lydia
Mordkovitch and Vernon Handley. Miss
Mordkovitch is a rather passionate player
but by the side of Campoli in this 1954
live performance even she seems a trifle
reticent. Campoli lavishes on the piece
his gorgeously full tone, husky at the
lower end of the violin’s compass, thrillingly
bright in alt. Moeran was, of
course, a violinist himself and he appears
to have had a full understanding of
and sympathy with the instrument.
As Andrew Rose perceptively
comments in his note, "the Moeran
Concerto has a joy to it". It teems
with expansive, rhapsodic writing for
the soloist. The long singing lines
in the first movement suit Campoli very
well but he also tosses off the stretches
of demanding passagework with élan.
It’s an intense reading and I relished
the great warmth in Campoli’s playing.
The second movement
is a volatile jig and Campoli is in
full command of all the pyrotechnics.
The concerto ends not with a conventional
display piece but with a long, soulful
lento. Again Campoli’s playing
is passionate and full-toned: in his
hands the solo line dips and soars like
a bird in flight. The movement comes
to a serene conclusion and it’s just
a pity that the recording can’t quite
cope with the last climax without distortion.
Overall, however, the sound is not too
bad and the orchestra is certainly better
reported than is the case in the Coates
piece. At times the recording distorts
when the volume is loud but in general
one can hear that Sir Adrian Boult is
providing good, characteristically understanding
support.
Some may find Campoli’s
approach too intense. I’m not sure this
performance is one for everyday listening
but his conviction and technical assurance
disarm criticism, I find. The concerto
is diffuse in parts but Campoli, caught
on the wing in this live performance,
sweeps all doubts aside. It’s a bravura
reading.
I congratulate Divine
Art on their enterprise in making available
one unknown work and one largely unknown
performance of a slightly more familiar
concerto. The transfers sounded well
on my equipment and the documentation
is exemplary. English music enthusiasts
should certainly investigate this fascinating
release.
John Quinn
See also
review by Rob Barnett