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The crowded contents
pages of this double set reads like
an encyclopedia of British cellists
... or at least of those who were around
during the era of recorded sound. It
is not comprehensive; how could it be
... more of that later. Inevitably,
given the time spanned, the quality
of the recorded sound is disparate.
Most of the 31 tracks derive from commercial
recordings going back to the era of
the 78. Sebastian Comberti, who has
done so much work for the cello and
cellists, must have faced a herculean
task in getting all the necessary IPR
clearances from Universal, EMI, Chandos,
Hyperion, CRD, Cambridge Classics, GM
Records, the BBC and the various artists.
The end-product is well worth that effort.
The downside is that
some tracks present only part of a work
or part of a movement. The latter is
the case with Norman Jones and the I
Masnadieri and Denis Vigay and the
Suppé overture. Complete movements
from larger works are also used: Pleeth
in the vivace flessibile from
Rubbra's Cello Sonata, the allegretto
from the Arpeggione (Derek
Simpson), the allegro molto vivace
from the Kodály unaccompanied
sonata (Colin Carr) and Robert Cohen
in the allegro appassionato of
the Walton concerto.
English music plays
a significant part here being represented
by several complete works. Paul Watkins
plays the Holst Invocation (a
BBC broadcast). The Beatrice Harrison
Delius Elegie (a popular title
and mood among cello compositions) is
already well known and has been issued
many times. The newly discovered du
Pré recording of Rubbra’s intense
and haunting Soliloquy is the
longest piece here at 16:24. It is no
wonder that it receives front of booklet
billing. A real coup, this!
Douglas Cameron's
infinitely tender down-played prelude
to the Tell Overture smiles out
from the unfiltered surface burble.
Clicks have been elided but continuous
noise is still there. The same applies
throughout. Barbirolli's Bach
struck me as far from impressive as
a performance - articulation seems smudgy.
Hamilton Harty accompanies W H Squire
in the Godard Berceuse in
sound that has immediacy and a not at
all displeasing sickle-edged vinegary
definition - no difficulty with articulation
here. The 1930s microphones seem to
shy away from some of Harrison's
notes in the Delius - did she turn from
the microphone from time to time during
the sessions, I wonder. Cedric Sharpe
enjoys dullish sound in the Popper
Polonaise which begins in a direct
echo of Rachmaninov's song Powder
and Paint (once wonderfully recorded
by Plevitskaya). Salmond cozies
up to Grieg's To Spring - a real
smooch! I am only surprised that he
sets such a fast pulse. Lauri Kennedy,
Australian born (he recorded Edgar Bainton’s
Cello Sonata for NGS, I think), returns
to the Popper-fields for the soulful
Hungarian Fantasy. His son John
was in Beecham's RPO while his grandson
is none other than Nigel Kennedy - the
artist now known as 'Kennedy'.
Pini duets with
a ripe but unnamed violinist and pianist
in Softly Wakes My Heart. Both
artists skid close to the sentimental
sob but steer away at the last minute.
Raymond Clark, Leeds-born and
self-taught, famously stood in for a
Fournier Don Quixote fixture
with Karajan in Geneva. He here delivers
a suavely rounded Vision Scene with
the ROHO conducted by Constant Lambert.
With the Kilbey track (Massenet)
we at last emerge into the sunlit uplands
of an almost silent background. In 1920,
at the age of 13, he debuted with the
Elgar concerto. He gives here a somnolent
rather than soulful account but the
tone is luxurious and nothing at all
astringent crosses the listener’s ‘field
of vision’.
Pleeth was Du
Pré's teacher, a member of the
Allegri Quartet and a frequent collaborator
with Rubbra in various chamber concerts.
It is a great shame that we could not
have had the whole of the Rubbra (and
I urge Mr Comberti to consider a separate
full release). Pleeth and Rubbra give
an affably lively yet feeling performance
of the one movement - another of Rubbra's
dancing collana musicale movements
like its equivalents in the viola and
piano concertos and in the Fifth Symphony.
Alan Dalziel's name was unknown
to me. His Faure Elégie
is in a similar sombre-passionate curtilage
to the Massenet but there is more variety
and expressive interest than in the
Kilbey sample.
Thomas Igloi's
death in 1976 left a yawning gap. His
BBC broadcasts and CRD recordings
lit my early musical discoveries. Splendid
tone, steely bow control and yielding
emotional variety make him a very special
player as is evident from the plucked
out andante from Fauré
No. 2. Keith Harvey, another
to me unfamiliar name, turns in an extraordinary
version of the Debussy. It is a technical
and colouristic tour de force - testing
in the extreme - and comparable in its
achievement to Sorabji’s transcription
of Ravel’s Rapsodie Espagnole.
Harvey was a founder member of the Gabrieli
Quartet so you may perhaps remember
his CfP LPs from the 1970s including
their Death and the Maiden. In
addition we learn that he can be heard
in the film scores for The French
Lieutenant's Woman and Un Coeur
en Hiver.
There is more Rubbra
in the last track on CD1. This is a
discovery, Jacqueline du Pré
(one of only two women cellists
featured on this collection) in the
Rubbra Soliloquy, a work previously
recorded on Lyrita by Rohan de Saram
(I was sorry to see his name not included
here - his wonderful broadcast of the
Pfitzner first concerto and of the Bax
Rhapsodic Ballad were extraordinary
events) and by Raphael Sommer (another
absentee) on a very sadly deleted all-Rubbra
disc on Carlton BBC Radio Classics.
Predictably du Pré digs deep
into the soul-scape of this work that
seems to speak of oppressive landscapes
and doom (a solitary singer under a
bleakly louring sky). This is the longest
work here and draws you to this set
making it a compulsory purchase for
cello fanciers and British music enthusiasts
alike. Christopher's Finzi's Newbury
String Players are in very good heart,
and although there is some evidence
of tape age and less than perfect recording
techniques this is unmissable. Are there
more NSP tapes? I hope so. I would greatly
value being able to hear more Finzi,
Rubbra and Howells from the NSP archives.
In the notes we are
reminded that this Rubbra performances
took place just three months before
her acclaimed Elgar concerto disc with
Barbirolli. That EMI recording is remarkable
but as a musical experience it lacks
the smoking intensity of the live recording
on Sony Classics made when Barenboim
conducted the Philadelphia in 1970.
I keep trumpeting that recording because
it is something truly special
and while the recording quality lacks
the refinement and presence of the EMI
studio version it a remarkably overpowering
musical and emotional event. Don't miss
it.
The second CD is packed
even more tightly than the first. Norman
Jones in the Verdi Prelude touches
in, with tenderness, the arioso
from I Masnadieri as does the
similarly obscure (to me at least) Denis
Vigay in the Suppé. Back
in time we plunge into the busy surfaces
that tactfully plague Derek Simpson's
flowing Arpeggione movement.
Douglas Cummings' two Bach morsels
evince a masculine musculature, secure
technique and confidence. The recording
is suitably strong. Welsh's Dutilleux
is full of fantastic colour and effect,
virtuoso not only of the flying hands
and fingers but also of colouristic
infusion. Christopher van Kampen
was very active in the contemporary
field (I am sure I recall an extraordinary
Maconchy Epyllion and Lutyens’
Winter of the World).
The Janáček Pohadka reminds
us of Van Kampen's ineffable cantabile
line, evident at 1.38 onwards. Raphael
Wallfisch's Figaro by Castelnuovo-Tedesco
is fantastic and displays a sense of
humour not often associated with the
cello.
Colin Carr with
plenty of chesty tone and lickety-split
technique strides masterfully through
the Kodály sonata's allegro
molto vivace - one of the peaks
of the repertoire leaving the technique
of the cellist pitifully exposed. Carr
passes the test with élan and
style. Baillie gets two Glière
Albumblätter (rather like
Rachmaninov here) to sing through. Robert
Cohen's tone in the Walton is precise,
razor accurate and full of rapid-fire
repartee with the orchestra. Isserlis's
soft-focus, cloaked tone makes for a
memorable Fauré. Tim Hugh
grips our lapels with a close-up
recording (the equivalent of the insistent
Ancient Mariner in its undeniability)
in the Handel/Halvorsen. The Clive
Greensmith track is the singing
Tom Bowling - not a dry eye in
the house.
Lastly comes more English
music in the shape of Holst’s noble
Invocation (also recorded by
Alexander Baillie on Lyrita and premiered
by Julian Lloyd Webber in a 1983 BBC
broadcast with Norman del Mar and the
BBC Symphony Orchestra). A shame that,
in the booklet, the conductor of the
BBCSO is shown as ‘Andrew Davies’ rather
than Andrew Davis. This is however a
small blemish which I am sure Mr Comberti
will correct on reissue.
Cello Classics continues
to surprise us. It is now getting to
stage where I begin to think that issues
of long-gone historic broadcasts might
be a possibility. If he is looking for
suggestions here are mine. Someone should
rescue the superb Foulds Cello Sonata
which Moray Welsh broadcast with Ronald
Stevenson in 1979. It is an extraordinary
work given an incandescent performance
glorying in the works eerie strangeness
and it joyous melodies. Welsh also gave
the premiere of the Lennox Berkeley
Cello Concerto in 1983. It proved a
most resilient and dramatic work (rather
like his volatile and equally early
Nocturne for orchestra) with
none of the lighter and occasionally
bland Gallic echoes that came to predominate
in his mature works. Mr Comberti should
also look for a good copy of the BBC
1970s studio session of the Frank Bridge
Oration in which Thomas Igloi
was partnered by the English Chamber
Orchestra conducted by Frederick Prausnitz.
Perhaps he could rescue Raphael Wallfisch’s
more recent broadcast of the Foulds
Cello Concerto. Further back in time
I believe that Christopher Bunting’s
premiere of the Finzi Cello Concerto
may have survived (perhaps with the
Finzi family). Again it would be good
to have that historic and biographically
poignant event on CD. How about Alexander
Baillie’s 1980s broadcast of the Howells’
Fantasia for cello and Orchestra
(BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra/Norman
del Mar)? Lastly we should not forget
Igloi’s intense performance of the Arnold
Cooke Cello Concerto with Charles Groves
and the BBC Symphony Orchestra.
There are real riches
here as must be apparent. It must have
been very satisfying task, though thankless,
to make the selections. Why thankless?
There are omissions. It was not possible
across two extremely well filled discs
to cover all the significant British
names. I lament the omission of something
from Rohan de Saram (now if someone
could only find that superbly singing
BBC broadcast of the Pfitzner First
Cello Concerto), Amaryllis Fleming,
Eileen Croxford, Raphael Sommer, Florence
Hooton, Julian Lloyd-Webber and Chris
Bunting. Perhaps there is room for a
volume 2? Let’s see how well this set
goes. It certainly deserves a place
in your collection and is attractively
priced.
There is an admirably
thorough twenty page commentary covering
every musician featured. This is the
work of Michael James. There are also
notes by Sebastian Comberti. The booklet
amounts to an encylopedia of English
cellists.
Cello enthusiasts as
well as young and aspiring players,
Du Pré collectors and British
music fans will find this set packed
with discoveries; absolutely fascinating.
Rob Barnett