The North East of England seems to have been a much more prolific
breeding ground for music in the 18
th century than
has been generally realised. Divine Art have recently brought
us some excellent recordings of music by the Newcastle-based
Charles Avison (1709-1770) and the Durham-based cellist John
Garth (1721-1810); now Cello Classics oblige with the music of
another cellist from Durham, Stephen Paxton. Avison was neglected
but not forgotten, with one or two of his works recorded by the
Academy of St Martin in the Fields, but the music of Garth and
Paxton had sunk into entirely unwarranted neglect.
Founded in April 2001 by Sebastian Comberti, the soloist here,
the Cello Classics label is ‘dedicated to releasing CDs
of unexplored repertoire for the cello, played by some of the
most exciting players of the past and the present, and introducing
some of the cellists of the future’. It has already built
up an impressive portfolio of recordings, mostly of neglected
music, ranging from the baroque to the late 20th Century.
I’m grateful to them for having introduced me to the music
of Paxton, a celebrated figure in his day, especially after his
removal to London, though little known now. Like Garth, he has
no entry in the
Oxford Companion to Music, though he does
feature in the
Oxford Dictionary of National Biography,
so I’m reliant on the information contained in the very
helpful CD booklet, including the fact that he has frequently
been confused with his younger brother, William. His lifetime
fame failed to survive his death and the very location of his
grave in St Pancras churchyard is now lost.
There is just one other recording of Paxton’s music in
the current catalogue: Six Sonatas for bassoon and harp, Op.3
(Harp & Company 50513), and a very short excerpt from one
of the Cello Sonatas was included on a Divine Art CD
The Jane
Austen Collection (2-4107 - see
review),
so the new CD is particularly welcome.
The Divine Art recording of the Garth concertos was revelatory
(DDA25059, 2 CDs for the price of one - see
review).
Paxton’s music is not quite in that league, but it’s
very attractive and it’s particularly interesting to hear
what on paper look like Corellian sonatas, three in the
da
camera 3-movement form and one in the 4-movement
da chiesa form,
employed as vehicles for the then new
galant style, more
normally associated with the likes of J.C. Bach who was in London
from 1762. Paxton must have moved there before 1756, when he
was elected a member of the Royal Society of Musicians. Though
the booklet is very informative, it gives no dates for these
sonatas, so I can only guess at the influence of J.C. Bach.
The Concerto was published posthumously in 1789. In many respects,
it’s the most attractive work here; if you’d told
me that it was a recently-rediscovered work by J.C. Bach, or
maybe even early Haydn, I certainly wouldn’t think it unworthy
of either. It’s placed last on the CD, which is entirely
appropriate; the sonatas, which are rather smaller beer, would
have been overshadowed if they had followed it.
I don’t wish, however, to sound disparaging about the sonatas,
all of which are well worth hearing. Two of them, like the concerto,
have modern editions, but Opp. 4/5 and 6 are performed from a
manuscript in the British Library.
Sebastian Comberti’s notes explain the editorial principles
and the decisions regarding performing practice. With the exception
of the very affective solo slow movement,
largo e sostenuto,
of Op.4/6 (track 5), the lower stave is realised by a combination
of a second cello and harpsichord. Paxton’s own cadenzas
have been employed where they exist; otherwise Sebastian Comberti
has composed his own. That I wasn’t sure which was which
is testimony to the stylish credibility of the modern ones. Indeed,
everything about these performances seems sensibly based and
well executed.
I have no benchmark for comparison, but all the performances
are well judged and do the music justice. I’ve recently
been praising Maggie Coles’s pianism in Mozart and late
Schubert in my Download Roundups, so it’s gratifying to
hear her as an accomplished, if necessarily
sub-fusc,
continuo player on the harpsichord.
She also features as harpsichordist in the Pantheon Band for
the closing concerto. I hadn’t encountered them as a group
before, though the names of some of the players are well enough
known to guarantee a fine performance, which is exactly what
they give.
With good recording - fairly close, but not too close - informative
notes and an attractive booklet, this recording deserves the
wide audience which I hope it receives. The rear cover of the
booklet advertises four other Cello Classics recordings, featuring
Comberti himself, Alexander Rudin, and Richard Tunnicliffe -
full details from the
Cello Classics website.
I hope to follow up on some of these.
Brian Wilson