This CD, sponsored 
                by the Bliss Trust is the second release 
                in Peter Donohoe’s series, British 
                Piano Concertos for Naxos. Its appearance 
                prompts two questions. Why do we hear 
                so little of the music of Bliss, especially 
                in our concert halls? Equally, why has 
                this fine British pianist made so few 
                discs in recent years? 
              
 
              
I suspect the answer 
                to the second question is that Donohoe 
                has been a victim of the record industry’s 
                obsession with bright young artists 
                rather than serious, less flashy musicians. 
                So after the excitement of his success 
                in the 1982 Moscow International Tchaikovsky 
                Competition had receded the record companies 
                probably lost interest in him. All credit, 
                therefore, to Naxos for recording him 
                once again. 
              
 
              
The first question 
                is not quite so easy to answer. Like 
                many composers, Bliss’s output is uneven 
                but at his finest he wrote excellently 
                crafted, eloquent music, usually underpinned 
                by memorable thematic material. Unfortunately, 
                much of his music was founded in a romantic 
                vein, which had become desperately unfashionable 
                by the 1960s and many concert promoters 
                and record companies consigned Bliss, 
                like so many other composers of his 
                generation (not just British ones), 
                to oblivion. 
              
 
              
This fine disc illustrates 
                what we have been missing through neglect 
                of Bliss and through Peter Donohoe’s 
                infrequent visits to the recording studio. 
              
 
              
The work that was new 
                to me was the Concerto for Two Pianos. 
                (I’m unsure if it has been recorded 
                before though Naxos don’t claim this 
                as a first recording.) In his excellent 
                and informative notes Andrew Burn explains 
                that the origins of this piece lie in 
                a 1921 Concerto for piano, tenor 
                and strings, now lost (how, one 
                wonders did the singer fit in to such 
                music?) Bliss revised it as a work for 
                two pianos with accompaniment of wind, 
                brass and percussion in 1924 and he 
                fully orchestrated that work for the 
                1929 Proms. What is recorded here is 
                yet another revision of it, dating from 
                1950. It plays continuously though its 
                three sections are clearly defined. 
                The first part, Allegro giusto 
                is all bustle and energy. At 4’23" 
                the larghetto tranquillo begins. 
                For much of this section the pianos 
                decorate what the orchestra is playing. 
                In a 1924 programme note, quoted by 
                Andrew Burn, Bliss felicitously described 
                the solo pianos in this element of the 
                work as "two great arabesque-making 
                machines." A short climax leads 
                (at 7’43") to the concluding Vivo, 
                which is another driving, brilliant 
                piece of display. There’s a somewhat 
                brittle quality to the two faster sections 
                (and I don’t use the term pejoratively). 
                In the central part we glimpse the warm, 
                lyrical side of Bliss’s muse. Messrs. 
                Donohoe and Roscoe give a fine, extrovert 
                account of the concerto, ably supported 
                by David Lloyd-Jones and his orchestra. 
              
 
              
In between the two 
                concerted works comes the sonata that 
                Bliss wrote for the brilliant young 
                Australian pianist, Noel Mewton-Wood. 
                This composition was a direct result 
                of Bliss’s admiration for the performances 
                that the pianist had given of his Piano 
                Concerto [see 
                review]. It’s an interesting work 
                though I don’t find it speaks to me 
                in quite the same way that the Piano 
                Concerto does. It has been recorded 
                at least twice before, by Phillip Fowke 
                and by Eric Parkin (both for Chandos). 
                As Andrew Burn puts it, the first movement 
                has a "relentless driving force" 
                and I think Peter Donohoe is just the 
                man for this. He offers strong playing 
                but never forces the music unduly. There’s 
                a more fluid middle section, which he 
                plays with grace but still with a sense 
                of purposeful forward movement. After 
                the opening material has been reprised 
                the eerie quiet end is quite unexpected 
                and Donohoe does this passage with atmosphere 
                and feeling. There are some forceful 
                passages in the second movement, which 
                is a set of variations. Donohoe gives 
                these parts the right amount of weight 
                but he’s equally convincing in the more 
                reflective music. The finale is dashing 
                and propulsive. It sounds as if the 
                music must bristle with technical difficulties 
                but Donohoe’s virtuosity is equal to 
                all the demands that Bliss makes on 
                his pianist. I wouldn’t say this is 
                a masterpiece but it’s a strong work 
                that is well worth getting to know and 
                it’s splendidly done here. 
              
 
              
The best and strongest 
                piece on the CD is the Piano Concerto. 
                Written for and first performed at the 
                1939 World’s Fair in New York, the piece 
                is a big-hearted, bravura work that 
                was written with the very special technical 
                and interpretative prowess of Solomon 
                in mind. It was he who gave the première, 
                with Boult conducting. (APR has just 
                issued a CD of this very performance 
                and though the sound calls for considerable 
                tolerance at times the power and poetry 
                of Solomon’s performance is very evident.) 
                I hope I won’t be accused of unfairly 
                pigeonholing the work if I describe 
                it as English with a strong dash of 
                Rachmaninov. It seems to me to be an 
                ideal vehicle for Peter Donohoe’s talents 
                and he does it proud. 
              
 
              
For all the big gestures 
                that it contains the first movement 
                often moves into poetic, reflective 
                mood. Donohoe is equally successful 
                in both types of music. Indeed, I’d 
                say it’s a strength of this performance 
                that the listener (or at least this 
                listener) notices the lyrical passages 
                so much; they’re poetic but strongly 
                profiled. I love the limpid delicacy 
                and innocence at the very start of the 
                slow movement and, once again, I feel 
                Donohoe is wholly successful here, capturing 
                well the mood of nostalgic introspection. 
                In the more urgent central section the 
                temperature is briefly raised before 
                the reflective ambience is re-established. 
                Donohoe brings a touch of magic to the 
                hushed ending. 
              
 
              
It seems as if Bliss 
                is reluctant at first to break the spell 
                as the finale begins for the opening 
                is subdued. Soon, however, the music 
                becomes urgent and driven. This rondo 
                is propelled along buoyantly not just 
                by Donohoe but by Lloyd-Jones and the 
                orchestra, who give committed support 
                as indeed they do throughout the work. 
                There’s a fine rhythmic impulse to the 
                performance. The last couple of minutes 
                bring a touch of grandiloquence, though 
                these performers sensibly don’t overplay 
                their collective hand, before the last 
                throw of the rondo sends the concerto 
                hurtling to an emphatic close. 
              
 
              
This is an excellent 
                performance of an underrated work. It 
                is a performance that does not suffer 
                at all in comparison with such distinguished 
                predecessors as Noel Mewton-Wood (on 
                the BMS 
                label), the unsung Trevor Barnard 
                (a 1962 recording with Sargent on The 
                Divine Art) and the great Solomon 
                himself (Naxos or the live version on 
                APR). The concerto has been in need 
                of a good modern recording for some 
                time (the last, I believe, was by Phillip 
                Fowke for Unicorn-Kanchana in the early 
                1980s) but the wait has been worthwhile. 
              
 
              
As I’ve said already, 
                the notes by Andrew Burn (in English 
                only) are excellent, a model of their 
                kind. The recordings are good without 
                being in the demonstration class. On 
                my equipment the recording of the sonata 
                sounded the best. Not only is the acoustic 
                (and, possibly, the piano) different 
                but the engineers have been able to 
                focus on just one instrument and have 
                produced a more satisfyingly integrated 
                sound. The piano sounds richer throughout 
                its compass. In the concerto recordings 
                (and that of the Piano Concerto especially) 
                the solo instrument sounded a bit shrill 
                in the uppermost ranges. The soloists 
                were set a little too far forward in 
                relation to the overall sound picture. 
                I felt there was something of a lack 
                of bloom and ambience round the overall 
                sound. However, it’s important to make 
                a couple of important caveats to those 
                comments. Firstly, there is nothing 
                in the sound quality that will detract 
                from enjoyment of the excellent performances. 
                Secondly, the sound may well reproduce 
                differently on other equipment. Purchasers 
                may invest with confidence. 
              
 
              
I warmly welcome this 
                CD and look forward to further volumes 
                in this most interesting and enterprising 
                series. In particular I hope that Peter 
                Donohoe will not wait too long before 
                giving us the Rubbra concerto. I’d like 
                to think also that Naxos will follow 
                up this release by recording more Bliss. 
                A modern recording of the Violin Concerto 
                is long overdue. 
              
 
              
Strongly recommended. 
              
John Quinn