This may not be objectively
as important a set as ABC’s orchestral discs devoted to the
works of Eugene Goossens (see review) but it would not do
to underestimate the significance of the piano music. He
played
the piano
as well as the violin. Indeed he left piano rolls on the
former instrument though not, so far as I’m aware, 78s on
the latter instrument in his capacity as second violinist
in the Philharmonic Quartet.
Kaleidoscope dates from his Philharmonic Quartet
days, the days when he would capture the character of a fellow
player or friend in a deft
movement. Such is the kind of gift that informs these twelve
little studies. They range from backward-looking amiability,
to the wandering harmonies of impressionism (Promenade),
hints of pianistics of the Old School – Mussorgsky in A
Ghost Story – and shades of Liadov in The Old Musical
Box. We have tristesse as well in the Lament and a fine
sense of particular characterisation.
The
noble chording of The Four Conceits’ The Gargoyle vies
with the Graingeresque cut of A Walking Tune for optimum
pleasurable listening. The set of four was dedicated to Grainger’s
fellow Australian, William Murdoch, though regrettably Murdoch
never recorded them – and they would have comfortably fitted
on one twelve inch disc. The mood studies of Ships,
explicitly labelled preludes, hint more strongly at the influences
he was absorbing. The first is impressive but the third has
some noble left hand chording and some glittering right hand
curlicues to daunt and dazzle.
He
can relax nicely with a Folk Tune (from Two Studies of
1923) and also, rather later, pay homage to such as Paderewski
and Debussy. These are attractive but not essential. Much
better is the Francophile moto perpetuo that is the Concert
Study Op.10 or the much denser and harmonically complex Nature
Poems Op.25. These are saturated in Debussy but show
a highly developed and sophisticated aural palette. The Bacchanal
finale has some driving power as well as a really beautiful
lyrical central section. These poems are the most adventurous
and successful things on the first disc and show that Goossens
was fully the equal of any composer in England writing for
the piano at the end of the First War.
Harriet
Cohen invited contributions in 1932 for an Oxford University
Press collection of Bach. Goossens turned his hand to the
second movement of the Second Brandenburg Concerto whilst
the majority of the others turned to the Chorales (as had,
earlier, his old friend William Murdoch). The Rhythmic
Dance is a zesty 1920 number, high on pianola and high
spirits and here overdubbed, as it was written for two pianos. East
of Suez followed two years later and sports some Balinese
drive and gamelan colour as well as more explicitly Western
harmonies. There’s balletic ambience here a-plenty, not least
the Street of Peking, and also some of Ravel’s pervasive
influence in the Prelude to Scene IV – a rather passionate
scene. It was written as incidental music to the Somerset
Maugham play and by all accounts, not least Goossens’ own,
the audience talked over much of his music. L’Ecole en Crinoline is
a ballet, written between 1921 and 1922. He tried to interest
Diaghilev in it – he was conducting for the company – but
to no avail. A French director in Paris admired it but referred
Goossens back to Diaghilev. At which point of course things
collapsed and Goossens never even finished the orchestration – about
two thirds was complete. Syncopation co-exists with pawky
humour and some rolling drama but in truth it’s not as individual
a work as the explicitly oriental theatre music for East
of Suez.
The
intrepid Antony Gray plays throughout with acumen and verve,
relishing the impressionism and the folk dance equally. He’s
a first class guide – and has immersed himself in the Goossens’ biography
to produce some fine and helpful notes. Though one disc – the
first – has been previously released the second has not and
was recorded in 1998. Self-recommending for admirers of British
piano music.
Jonathan
Woolf
see also review by Rob Barnett
Buywell
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