This disc is a welcome reminder of two fine concerts that I attended
at this year’s Cheltenham Music Festival. Towards the start of
the festival I reviewed
a concert in which the Schubert Ensemble performed On Wenlock
Edge. On that occasion their splendid partner was tenor James
Gilchrist. Right at the end of the festival I was fortunate to
be present to review
a marvellous account of Schubert’s Winterreise by Mark
Padmore.
Before dealing with
On Wenlock Edge there is some much more rare music on
the disc. The Piano Quintet was recorded for the first time
as part of a superb two-disc set of RVW’s early chamber music
(Hyperion), which was warmly welcomed by Rob Barnett when he
reviewed
it in 2002. Rob commented that ”the music is cast in a mould
rather similar to Howells' piano quartet of some ten years later,
exultant and surging with romantic power.” He also drew attention
to the “Parryesque” quality of the music. I agree with his verdict
completely. The work is scored for piano, violin, viola, cello
and double bass, the same forces as Schubert specified for the
‘Trout’ Quintet. The scoring is quite bass-heavy and the performers
need to balance each other skilfully to avoid heaviness. The
members of the Schubert Ensemble achieve the appropriate richness
without making the music sound tubby.
The first movement
is a powerful, passionate utterance, though there are some reflective
oases along the way. The performance is spirited and very committed
and I liked it a lot. The Nash Ensemble account is no less involving
and I wouldn’t really care to choose between them. The Hyperion
recording for the Nash Ensemble is balanced a touch closer and
is cut at a slightly higher level, I suspect. Playing them one
after the other at exactly the same volume settings I found
the Hyperion recording almost too potent at times.
In his notes for
the Chandos disc Michael Kennedy draws attention to some similarities
between the material of the second movement and RVW’s song,
Silent Noon, which also dates from 1903. It’s a lyrical
and ruminative movement and it’s music that, in lesser hands,
could invite wallowing. Happily, the Schubert Ensemble give
full value to the reflective side of the piece but they play
it with purpose also, as do the Nash Ensemble. The finale consists
of a theme and five variations. The enunciation of the theme
at the outset by violin and double bass in unison imparts an
almost ghostly feeling to the music The movement is full of
pleasing touches and RVW clearly retained an affection for it
because late in life he returned to it, using an expanded version
of the theme for the finale, also a set of variations, of his
1954 Violin Sonata.
The Quintet is a
most enjoyable work even if, in the context of his overall output,
it’s not great Vaughan Williams. First performed in 1905, a
performance is known to have taken place in 1918 but it was
one of a number of early works that the composer withdrew after
his return from war service and it was not heard again until
it was revived in 1999 with the consent of Ursula Vaughan Williams.
In agreeing to further performances Mrs Vaughan Williams did
us a great service, as she did in permitting a recording and
then performances of the original version of the ‘London’ Symphony,
for hearing this neglected music enhances our appreciation and
understanding of RVW’s music. As I said, the Quintet is not,
perhaps, great Vaughan Williams but it’s far too good for the
score to moulder in a drawer for ever.
The aforementioned
Hyperion chamber music set also included the Romance and
Pastorale and once again it’s hard to better Rob Barnett’s
description of these two miniatures as “warm and subtle; flowing
with the flavours and atmosphere of summer streams and warm
byres - only a shade away from The Lark Ascending.” Indeed,
Michael Kennedy says that the Romance “at times suggests
a study for The Lark Ascending.” Simon Blendis plays
it quite beautifully and he’s partnered most sensitively by
pianist William Howard. They’re no less successful in the Pastorale,
which is fluent and gently rhapsodic in their hands.
For many collectors
the chief appeal of this disc will lie in the inclusion of On
Wenlock Edge. The more I hear this Housman cycle
the more I admire and love it. It’s sad to think that Housman
disliked musical settings of his poems, for at their best –
and On Wenlock Edge is surely one of the very
best – musical settings of his poems refresh and renew the words,
adding another dimension while respecting the originals.
We have had several
fine recordings of On Wenlock Edge over the years. For
a long time Ian Partridge’s excellent performance with The Music
Group of London (EMI, 1970) held sway and I still rate it very
highly indeed. Recently, however, its hegemony has been challenged
by a superb account from James Gilchrist with Anna Tilbrook
(piano) and The Fitzwilliam String Quartet (Linn Records, recorded
in 2006). In auditioning these three versions side by side it’s
apparent that all three singers bring special qualities and
insights to the songs. Furthermore, each benefits from perceptive
and imaginative accompaniments from their respective groups
of instrumentalists. All three versions are unfailingly musical.
In the storm-tossed
‘On Wenlock Edge’ there’s strength and a certain degree of wildness
in Mark Padmore’s singing. Gilchrist’s account is characterised
by what I’d term anxious passion. Setting the tone for what’s
to follow in his reading, Partridge is more mellifluous and
he displays a little less obvious energy. Of the three it’s
he who spins the most legato line.
At the start of
‘From far, from eve and morning’ Partridge is withdrawn and
delicate. I love the haunted plangency in his voice – something
we hear quite often from him in this cycle. Gilchrist is sweet
and gentle at first but the little bit of speeding up at “take
my hand, quick” is a fine touch – he does that better than his
rivals. Padmore is placed a little further away from the microphone
than Gilchrist, it seems. He’s more deliberate at the start
than are his colleagues – in fact he takes 0:28 longer over
this song, whereas the other both take 2:02 (this is the only
significant difference of timing between any of the singers
throughout the cycle.) Padmore’s beautifully placed mezza
voce is a delight to hear.
‘Is my team ploughing?’
is a huge vocal and interpretative challenge. Padmore is good
at distinguishing between the two voices in the poem. He’s very
dramatic in the verses allotted to the survivor. In the penultimate
verse there’s a real feeling of desperation in his singing.
In the last verse his voice almost cracks on the second of the
two cries of “yes, lad.” I don’t know if this happens by accident
or design but it’s mightily effective and very appropriate.
Gilchrist, who also portrays the two separate voices very well,
is remote and ghostly at the start. In the penultimate stanza
he’s anguished and in the last verse he, perhaps better than
anyone else, suggests the guilt felt by the survivor, not least
in his impassioned cry “I cheer a dead man’s sweetheart. Never
ask me whose.” Partridge adopts a dead tone at the start and
his vocal control is magnificent. Beside the other two he’s
less overtly dramatic in the concluding verses but I still find
him completely convincing.
‘Oh when I was in
love with you’ finds Partridge innocent and relatively carefree.
In this short song, which is almost an intermezzo, there’s really
little to choose between the singers. Padmore is fractionally
less jaunty than his peers in the second verse. He makes just
a little bit more of the music by slowing the tempo a little
and by so doing hints, rightly, I think, at darker undercurrents.
‘Bredon Hill’ is
the finest song of all and hugely demanding of the singer –
and, indeed, of all the performers. In this song Partridge,
though he sings excellently, doesn’t fine down his voice in
the opening stanzas in the way that his rivals do. His approach
is less overtly dramatic, rather he’s innocent and more direct.
His singing gives great pleasure – the soft high note on the
word “church” at the end of verse four ravishes the ear. His
tempo for the first four stanzas is a fraction quicker that
either Gilchrist or Padmore. As a result, his slowing for verse
five is more marked but this is effective and he achieves an
impassioned climax on “Oh, noisy bells, be dumb.” Padmore’s
tone is light and easy at the start of the song. He and his
partners achieve a glacial calm in verse five; here the reading
is full of foreboding and they maintain and build the hushed
suspense throughout verse six. This treatment makes Padmore’s
great cry at “Oh, noisy bells” absolutely riveting. But marvellous
though Padmore is I think Gilchrist outdoes him. He’s even more
affecting in his use of mezza voce early on then becomes
a little more outgoing in verse three, while maintaining the
lightness of voice. This performance is the most chilling of
the three in verse five. The following verse is doom laden and
Gilchrist is impassioned at “Oh, noisy bells.” By a short head
I find the Gilchrist performance to be the most compelling among
these three fine accounts.
After this, ‘Clun’
comes as something of a relaxation. I like very much the easy
delivery of Partridge. In particular, he ends the song beautifully
and The Music Group of London play the postlude marvellously.
Gilchrist has a wonderfully light touch too – his voice is ideally
suited to this song – and the final stanza and the postlude
are rapt. Padmore too is excellent. There’s a touch more strength
in his voice and he is perfectly poised at the end.
All these three
versions are excellent in their different ways. Though there
are points where I find one singer has the edge the differences
are marginal. Mark Padmore excels in this cycle and is superbly
supported by The Schubert Ensemble.
The production values
of this Chandos release are very high. The recorded sound is
excellent. There are first-rate notes by the doyen of writers
on Vaughan Williams, Michael Kennedy. And there are some small
but praiseworthy refinements. In providing the texts for On
Wenlock Edge Chandos include, set within brackets, the two
verses of ’Is my team ploughing’ and the refrain in ‘Clun’ that
RVW did not set. They’re the only company in my experience to
do this. They also deserve a round of applause for leaving a
gap of eighteen seconds between the end of On Wenlock Edge
and the start of the Quintet and there’s another break of twenty-two
seconds between the end of the Quintet and the opening of the
Romance. This sounds a small point but it shows great
consideration and thoughtfulness. Other companies, please copy.
Listening to this
fine new release and revisiting the comparative versions of
On Wenlock Edge – sheer indulgence! – I’m struck
by the excellence of all of them. I’m not going to declare any
one performance a winner, as that would be invidious and I don’t
think it’s a cop out not to do so. However, choice may be dictated
by the couplings. The Nash Ensemble’s versions of the two chamber
works come in a two-disc set and I’m not aware of any other
single-disc version of the Quintet apart from this new Chandos
release. Both the rival versions of On Wenlock Edge are
coupled with other songs. Partridge’s recording comes with the
Ten Blake Songs and Warlock’s The Curlew.
Gilchrist also offers The Curlew, Gurney’s fine Ludlow
and Teme cycle and a rare chance to hear Elegiac Sonnet
by Bliss. Personally I’d buy the lot – indeed, I already have!
However, I hope my comments above make it clear that this new
Chandos disc is an outstanding release and admirers of Vaughan
Williams can invest with complete confidence.
John Quinn
Mark Padmore*
(tenor); Schubert Ensemble 
