The opening movement of John Joubert's First Symphony (tr. 1)
is characterized by the constant interchange between a chattering,
fretting manner, notably in the woodwind, and the glidingly
expressive musing which becomes prominent first in the strings
at 1:24 and expanded into quite ardent cantabile from
1:34. These diverse elements co-exist playfully enough and from
3:05 Joubert becomes fascinated by a descending scale developed
out of a rather staid melody introduced at 2:46 by violas and
cellos.
I compared Vernon Handley's recording, the first commercial
one, with a 1969 concert performance broadcast on BBC Radio
3 by the BBC Northern Symphony Orchestra/Stanford Robinson (British
Library Sound Archive tape NP 1559W). Here are the comparative
timings:-
Timings
|
I
|
II
|
III
|
IV
|
Total
|
Handley
|
8:24
|
7:45
|
5:11
|
9:54
|
31:17
|
Robinson
|
8:24
|
6:51
|
5:09
|
9:33
|
30:11
|
Robinson's articulation is lighter than Handley's. He brings
more humour to his perkier staccato woodwind chatter and the
less solemn, but also less compelling, strings' musing and overall
progression that Handley achieves. Handley benefits from a recording
of finer body and clarity of dynamic contrast. As things develop
(from 3:59) Robinson gives us cajoling strings alternating with
jocular, snappy woodwind, where Handley goes for a smoother
contrast of more sober strings calming an insistent woodwind
section.
Marked 'Slow, but not overmuch', I preferred Robinson's less
measured, more flowing approach to the second movement which
takes nothing away from the solemnity, especially of the ruminating
theme heard on unison strings after the opening fanfare. This
for me recalls those eerily meditative string passages in the
slow movement of Vaughan Williams' Sixth Symphony. Joubert is
less desolate, more humane, particularly at Robinson's tempo,
which gives the movement the quality of sorrowful witness. Handley
has more gravitas in the movement's relentless parade but also
more formality and therefore a degree of stiff distance. Yet
with him you experience a total surrender to the sheer power
of the stark climax, after which a brief silence, then a telling
release and return to flexibility.
The third movement scherzo (tr. 3) is restless and hyperactive
and for me brought that of Walton's First Symphony to mind.
Joubert is less mordant but Handley relishes the perky trombones'
descents from 0:42. And, what you might call a 'Trio' (1:34)
is distinctive with its swaying theme in the strings matched
against swirling woodwind. Later there's a chorale like second
'Trio' (2:18) featuring three trombones and tuba. It's all brilliantly
effected by Handley and the LPO. Robinson isn't punchy enough
despite pointing the contrasts in orchestration.
Handley's opening to the finale (tr. 4) is arresting but again
formal because he attends more scrupulously to Joubert's Adagio
marking than Robinson, though I prefer the latter's greater
urgency. What stands out in the introduction is the most soulfully
lyrical passage in the entire work (from 1:42). It is given
finer poise by Handley: silky first violins with seconds echoing,
comfort in harsh times of the kind memorably evoked by Shostakovich
or Britten. After this, Joubert's light Allegro (from
4:16), niftily realized by Handley, is comparatively trivial.
It nevertheless allows the licence and novelty in this work
of a confident, sunny, open air theme (from 5:28) and an exuberant
close. Robinson presents well but Handley's digital recording
brings out the sonority better.
Lyrita's coupling, William Mathias's First Symphony, encourages
you to compare the two symphonic debuts. I'd say Mathias is
the more original but also more uneven in inspiration.
The opening of Mathias’s First Symphony is all about the joy
neo-classical display: darting, dancing high strings countered
by bobbing low woodwind, the whole embellished by ample percussion,
especially cymbals and xylophone. And what the Royal Philharmonic
and Charles Groves vividly convey is total engagement with it
all. The second theme, introduced by the cellos (tr. 5 1:49)
has a contrasted dark yet intense colouring. It’s marked ‘con
passione’ and its reflection is gradually extended and passes
to the violas. Where the originality comes in this movement
is that the development (4:11) is a meditation on this second
theme within a hazy but sympathetic environment. I compared
the 1990 recording by the BBC Welsh Symphony Orchestra conducted
by the composer (Nimbus
NI 5260). Here are the comparative timings.
Timings
|
I
|
II
|
III
|
IV
|
Total
|
Groves
|
8:15
|
3:36
|
10:30
|
8:24
|
30:45
|
Mathias
|
7:55
|
3:38
|
11:19
|
8:08
|
31:00
|
The Groves analogue 1969 Pye recording is bright, rather dry
but very immediate. The Nimbus digital recording has more detail.
It places you within the perspective of the University of Birmingham’s
Great Hall and its opulent acoustic. Here I felt more of an
observer whereas with the Pye I could fancy I was part of the
experience. That said, Mathias’s slightly faster tempo emphasises
more the progression of the opening movement. An example is
in the early low woodwind responses. The second theme flows
more and thus is a more passionate outpouring. Mathias makes
the development dreamier, almost torpid. So he brings more contrast
and colour, yet Groves makes a more neo-classical case. With
Mathias you get more of a sense of individual aspects contributing
to the whole picture. With Groves there’s more spontaneous concentration
on those aspects as they emerge.
Beginning with the eerie warning of flutter-tonguing flutes
and clarinets, the second movement (tr. 6) is an invigorating,
jazzy scherzo with a constant display of energy. In Groves’s
account especially, the raw rhythmic drive is dominated by tom-toms.
Again there’s a more darkly coloured second theme, this time
introduced by the violas (1:36). This brings about an even wilder
phase. Mathias shows more dynamic contrast which makes the movement
more exciting though the more forwardly recorded Groves has
more physicality. Mathias’s second theme has a grim profile.
The slow movement (tr. 7) has a fairyland quality: a warm texture,
a meditative flow. There’s a relaxing motif on the piano before
solo woodwind arabesques, at 2:21. A bright-eyed section is
suddenly more glisteningly alive before oboe and strings at
2:58 take up again a low register. A more sustained theme of
fuller body and broader horizon then emerges. After the climax
of this first phase and calming woodwind descents the strings
introduce a gentler sustained theme (6:36). It’s marked ‘tenderly’.
Groves makes it sound like a lullaby, yet one which can gather
instruments and open out like a procession of witness. It becomes
more affirmative and all inclusive, recalling and absorbing
material from the earlier climax. As in the first movement,
Groves’s account is intensely and concentratedly present. I
felt an iron-willed determination to eschew relaxation. The
recording aids this vision with great forward presence. Mathias’s
more measured approach to his marking ‘Molto Adagio, sempre
flessibile’ brings a more faraway feel to the opening. Even
so there’s a more organic flow to the movement. The lyricism
of the woodwind contributions is clearer and there’s a sense
of something germinating. That said, the bright-eyed section
is not as well contrasted as it is with Groves. With Mathias
a seamless progression of the movement becomes of more pressing
drama, of clearer, if more self-conscious, crafting. The second
phase opening for tender strings has a lighter touch than Groves’s
but thereafter gathers more ardently and urgently.
The finale (tr. 8) is ecstatic and neo-classical. A frontispiece
of fanfares in which assertive brass alternate with equally
forceful strings and woodwind is followed by yet another theme
for strings in low register (1:00). This one is an Allegro
con brio marked ‘energetic’ to boot. It’s very stimulating,
especially on its second appearance when the trumpet garnishes
it with a counter-theme. You appreciate the woodwind calming
things down again, but they also perk them up. This is a fizzing
virtuoso orchestral piece of ever-scurrying strings which Groves
and the RPO play with great relish. It’s an uninhibited celebratory
dance. Quieter episodes on woodwind are followed by the grandeur
of the brass as all the threads are drawn together in a sonorous
peroration. Mathias’s finale, as it happens, has more of the
feel of a regal pageant. It’s less aggressive than Groves but
paradoxically more exciting. This is partly because again the
dynamic contrasts are more explicit. At a slightly faster Allegro
there’s more emphasis on progression. Mathias’s close, glowingly
recorded, is more exultant.
Here then are two fine performances, clearly recorded, albeit
by different techniques appropriate to their times. The Mathias
offers a different, rather more classical and objective interpretation
than the composer’s own.
Michael Greenhalgh
See also review
by Rob Barnett