This splendid set of
generously-filled CDs takes us back
to the glory days of the partnership
between André Previn and the
LSO. At that time the partnership was
as exciting as the subsequent alliance
between Rattle and the CBSO. A whole
series of fine recordings was made,
initially principally for RCA and latterly
for EMI Classics. The RCA recordings
included some notable versions (including
these). In addition, through a series
of television broadcasts (not least
his appearances with Morecambe and Wise
- a UK comedy double act), Previn did
much to popularise orchestral music
with no dumbing down. He arrived like
a breath of fresh air on the British
music scene and rapidly became a highly-regarded
figure.
One of the ways in
which Previn won admiration was through
his espousal of English music. I have
never been entirely convinced by his
Elgar but in this period at least he
was one of the finest of all conductors
of Walton and, as this set reminds us,
a very considerable exponent of the
music of Vaughan Williams.
Disc 1
The mighty Sea Symphony
does sprawl a little but I’ve always
found the big-hearted nature of the
music irresistible. I’ve been lucky
enough to sing in a number of performances
of it over the years and it never fails
to move and thrill. I don’t know the
venue for this recording. I must say
that it seemed just a fraction close
to me. The sound, though very acceptable,
doesn’t quite open up with the space
and amplitude that the music needs.
In particular I felt that the balance
between choir and orchestra rather favoured
the latter so that at the big climaxes
the chorus doesn’t quite make the impact
that it should. To my ears, at least,
the choir is just a fraction more present
on the fine versions by Sir Adrian Boult
(1968) and Bernard Haitink (1989), both
of which were recorded by EMI in Abbey
Road, No. 1 studio.
Previn is extremely
fortunate in having Heather Harper and
John Shirley-Quirk as his soloists.
Both are at the height of their very
considerable powers here. Shirley-Quirk’s
diction is admirably clear (as ever
with this fine singer), he is spot-on
rhythmically and the tone is lustrous
and strong. Harper’s very first entry,
"Flaunt out, O Sea" is not
quite as commanding as I’d expected
(Sheila Armstrong’s silvery projection
for Boult here is especially memorable)
and the reason is that Previn’s tempo
at this point is just a tad too quick
– mostly his sense of pace is unerring.
Thereafter, Harper’s refulgent tone
and sheer presence take over. Her singing
is as deeply satisfying and idiomatic
as that of Shirley-Quirk.
Shirley-Quirk is absolutely
superb in the second movement, ‘On the
beach at night, alone’. The movement
glows darkly, with fine playing and
singing from orchestra and chorus. The
virtuoso scherzo has a real whiff of
salt spray. The choir is splendidly
incisive but they are a bit overwhelmed
by the orchestra on occasions.
The vast, visionary
finale can sprawl a bit, though I think
it contains the best music. Previn’s
control is masterly. He knows exactly
where he’s going (I nearly said he’s
mapped out his course carefully!) and
I never felt there was any danger of
the music losing its direction. In particular
there’s no hint of wallowing in the
great washes of sound. This is really
generous music, full of heart. The chorus
work is impressive but the soloists
are even better. There’s a splendid
urgency to their passage beginning "O,
we can wait no longer" (Track 4,
12’12") and by the end of the performance
I had no doubt that this distinguished
pair are just about the best I’ve heard
in this work (and there have been some
pretty formidable pairings over the
years, both in concert and on disc.)
In summary, this is an excellent overall
performance. It’s wholly convincing
and leaves us in no doubt that Previn
is well into the RVW idiom
Disc 2
If the first disc whetted
my appetite for Previn in Vaughan Williams
then this next disc certainly confirmed
those initial favourable impressions.
Indeed, the performance of the ‘London’
Symphony, perhaps my favourite of the
whole canon, is one of the highlights
of this set. Firstly, the recording
itself is excellent. The sound is rich
and wide-ranging. Secondly, the LSO,
who played very well in Sea Symphony,
perform supremely well here, displaying
power and finesse in equal measure.
I vividly recall going to hear Previn
and the LSO play this very work in the
St. George’s Hall, Bradford around the
time that this recording appeared. It
was a splendid occasion and I remember
in particular that I was bowled over
by the weight and intensity of the orchestra’s
pianissimo playing. That attribute
is amply on display here too. This is
particularly the case in the Lento introduction
and epilogue which open and close the
work. Previn does the hustle and bustle
of the main allegro of the first movement
exceedingly well but the more reflective
episodes (such as Track 1, 9’01"
to 11’02") are also beautifully
handled. The atmospheric slow movement
is most sensitively played. There’s
real poetry here but the big climax
(track 2, from 7’17") is ardent.
I admired the controlled way in which
the music is allowed to subside from
this point to the hushed close.
The quicksilver banter
of the scherzo is brought off excellently.
The finale opens with some really powerful,
almost anguished music which the LSO
delivers with tremendous power. Previn
builds the slow march that follows most
impressively. He brings out all the
dash and vigour of the main allegro,
which eventually achieves a towering
climax before the quiet Q.E.D. of the
epilogue. The very last, luminous chord
is wonderful. It’s weighted perfectly
and dies away to nothing. This may be
a small point but it strikes me as the
hallmark of a great orchestra on top
of its form. Previn’s performance may
not quite supplant Sir John Barbirolli’s
supremely affectionate Hallé
account from 1957 but it comes pretty
close and, of course, it’s in much better
sound. A fine achievement.
To complete the disc
we have the Concerto Accademico and
The Wasps overture. I
must admit that the concerto never has
struck me as top-drawer Vaughan Williams.
It’s a bit on the dry side for my taste.
However, James Oliver Buswell, recently
heard to excellent effect in the concertos
by Walter Piston (Naxos), is an effective
soloist. He’s especially pleasing in
the pastoral slow movement where he
phrases warmly. The performance of The
Wasps, originally issued with the
Fifth Symphony, is splendid. It’s quite
one of the best I’ve ever heard. Both
playing and recording are on a par with
the ‘London’ Symphony. I especially
relished the thrilling way in which
the accents, in which the piece abounds,
are observed and used, as they should
be, to give the music impetus: this
is a really buzzing nest of wasps! The
"big tune" flows naturally
and glows splendidly.
Disc 3
Superficially there’s
a great contrast between RVW’s Third
and Fourth Symphonies, the one reflective,
its successor turbulent. However, beneath
the surface the harmonies of the ‘Pastoral’
are almost as restless as those of the
Fourth, especially in the first movement,
and the music is far from untroubled.
The luminous transparency of the scoring
of the ‘Pastoral’ surely reflects the
fruits of RVW’s period of study with
Ravel (1908). The sub-surface tension
is the product of his experiences as
an ambulance man in France (1916-18).
In the ‘Pastoral’ Previn
clarifies all the textures immaculately,
aided by supremely sensitive playing
by the LSO. The second movement, Lento
moderato, is marvellously etched – I’m
a little surprised that the trumpeter
who plays the "last post"
cadenza (Track 2 from 4’23") is
not credited as are all the other players
with important solo parts. The rustic
"galumphing" of the scherzo
is splendidly realised, especially by
the brass section. At the start of the
finale Heather Harper is wonderfully
ethereal and evocative. Her wordless
singing ushers in a finale which contains
a fair degree of passion as well as
beauty and Previn delivers a fine reading
with just the right amount of emotion.
A very fine performance of the whole
symphony is brought to a gentle, soaring
close by Heather Harper, who sounds
like a half-remembered folk singer in
the distant meadows. Wonderful!
The huge power of the
Fourth Symphony bursts over the listener
like a tidal wave. By the time it appeared
in 1935 storm clouds were gathering
over Europe and the choleric tone of
much of the music led to many listeners
making the assumption that RVW was reflecting
these troubled times in his music. However,
as we are reminded in the liner notes,
composition began back in 1931 when
the political situation was much less
uncertain. The composer himself rejected
any suggestion of a political dimension
to the piece and I suspect it may well
have been a far more abstract work than
some have claimed. There’s no denying,
however, that along with Sancta Civitas
(1925), Dona Nobis Pacem
(1936), and the Sixth Symphony (1947)
the Fourth is one of his most powerful
utterances.
If Previn’s account
of the ‘Pastoral’ was one of superfine
sensitivity and refinement, much of
this reading of the Fourth is, fittingly,
about raw, rugged power with the LSO
brass in particular, in trenchant form.
There are, of course, passages of lyricism
(e.g. the ardent violin line against
throbbing brass chords in the first
movement from Track 5, 5’26") and
there are also reflective episodes,
especially in the slow movement, and
these are well done. For the most part,
however, the temperature remains white
hot.
Previn builds and controls
the slow movement most impressively,
emphasising the rugged strength of the
music (and its creator?). The jagged
scherzo snarls with menace and sardonic
wit. The tense, pregnant link from scherzo
to finale (RVW’s equivalent of Beethoven’s
Fifth) bristles with barely suppressed
energy, which is then unleashed in the
volcanic finale. The playing here is
superb but the brass are outstanding,
as they need to be in this virtuoso
test of orchestra and conductor. When
the final defiant slam brings the symphony
to an emphatic end the listener almost
breathes a sigh of relief.
Previn may not quite
match the white-hot, boiling 1937 recording
of this tumultuous work by the BBC Symphony
Orchestra under composer himself (who
can?) but this is a very fine reading
which is unlikely to disappoint.
Disc 4
The major offering
is the seraphic Fifth Symphony. This
is a supreme work, packed with thematic
references to RVW’s opera (or ‘Morality’
as he called it), Pilgrim’s Progress,
which at the time the symphony was written
was still very much work in progress.
The long lines of the
first movement are most lovingly shaped
by Previn. The strings sing and soar
marvellously and the horns contribute
burnished tone. It seems to me that
everything about the account of this
movement, pacing, dynamic control and
contrast, and sympathetic playing is
just ‘right’. Later, when the tempo
picks up the strings are dexterous and
light and the interjections of the wind
and brass introduce a suitable note
of foreboding, which will be familiar
to anyone who knows Pilgrim.
The brief climax is convincingly built
before the return of the luminous material
with which the movement began (Track
1, 7’58")
The scherzo is brilliantly
poised and gossamer light. This music
always seems to me to be suggestive
of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That’s
certainly the case here. Then comes
the glorious Romanza. A featherbed of
hushed strings is the foundation for
the beautiful melody, heard first on
the cor anglais. In Pilgrim’s Progress
(Act 1, scene 2) this theme movingly
sets the words "He hath given me
rest by His sorrow, and life by His
death", sung by Pilgrim himself.
This movement is, surely, one of the
most moving creations in English music
and Previn and the LSO do it full justice.
The music, though beautiful, also has
great inner strength and its glories
are revealed here by some fabulously
eloquent playing. If the performance
of this symphony is a highlight of Previn’s
cycle (which I believe it is) then the
performance of this slow movement must
be counted the pinnacle of the entire
set. Here is just over twelve minutes
of balm for the soul. Then the quietly
radiant finale is a delight. This is
RVW at his most outgoing and beneficent.
The whole performance is a major achievement.
The Three Portraits
from "The England of Elizabeth"
consist of music extracted by Muir Matheson
from a score that RVW had been invited
to compose in 1955 by British Transport
Films. The company had produced a short
documentary about [16th century]
Elizabethan England in order to promote
tourism in Shakespeare country. Matheson’s
three movement suite doesn’t contain
vintage Vaughan Williams but it’s enjoyable
and so far as I know there is no other
recording.
The Tuba Concerto is
a delightful piece, even if it too is
not top-drawer RVW. As the notes point
out the composer took a good deal of
trouble to learn the capabilities of
the tuba which he then exploited to
the full. John Fletcher is a splendid
soloist. He’s athletic in the outer
movements and in the central Romanza
he displays a poetic vein to the tuba
which may surprise some listeners.
Disc 5
It’s an interesting
idea to couple RVW’s two E minor symphonies
on the same disc. I’ve always had a
soft spot for Previn’s recording of
the Sixth. It was the first recording
I owned of the work (on LP, of course,
coupled with the Eighth) and I acquired
it around the time, in the late 1960s,
that I learned the work from the inside
by attending a weekend amateur orchestral
workshop at which the subject for study
was this symphony. (The workshop was
authoritatively directed by Arthur Butterworth,
whose excellent writings will be familiar
to many Music Web visitors.) That weekend
gave me an insight into what a complex
and demanding score this is – not that
you’d know that from listening to the
virtuosity with which Previn and his
players dispatch it.
The first movement
benefits from excellent articulation,
while the Big Tune (Track 1, 6’18")
is beautifully judged – there’s a lovely
weight and richness to the LSO strings
here. The slow movement is full of menace
and power and is very impressively controlled
by Previn. The biting scherzo shows
the virtuosity of the LSO at its considerable
best. The desolate, subdued finale is
fiendishly difficult to bring off –
it reminds me of another bare musical
landscape, Holst’s Egdon Heath.
It’s well played here though I’m not
entirely sure that the last ounce of
hushed intensity is there. Nonetheless,
returning to this performance of the
symphony after some years I found it
effective and convincing.
The Ninth is a strange
work and has had a mixed press. One
thing is for sure, even in his eighties
RVW’s taste for experiment and his invention
as an orchestrator were undiminished.
Here he enriches the orchestral palette
by adding a flügelhorn and a trio
of saxophones to the scoring.
The first movement
possesses a rugged power. The thematic
material is not as strong as elsewhere
in the RVW canon but the indomitable
strength of the music can’t be denied.
The very end of this movement, with
its ghostly use of the saxophones, seems
to evoke the bleakness of parts of Thomas
Hardy’s Wessex. The second movement
presents great contrasts. Rather malevolent
rhythmic figures dominate the main part
of the movement but the central section
is more reflective, though still sounding
somewhat troubled.
The quirky, malign
quality that informs much of the scherzo
(and which puts me in mind of the scherzo
of number 6) is put across well. There
are a few similarities with the Sixth
too in parts of the finale, especially
the very opening. Here is another gaunt
landscape but this time the mood changes
a bit before too long. Strength and
a sense of purpose return, though even
the lyrical passages contain more than
a streak of melancholy. The potent final
pages, which see the return of the upwardly
striving motif with which the work began,
lead to a most imaginatively scored
close. A series of great full orchestral
chords give way each time to washes
of harp glissandi followed by
plangent chords on the saxophones. It’s
an extraordinary conclusion. What a
way to sign off a symphonic career!
Previn is a sure-footed
guide to this score and makes out a
very convincing case for it, I think.
It’s an unfairly underrated score of
which we should hear more.
Disc 6
The largest work on
this CD is the Sinfonia Antartica,
a five-movement score put together
by RVW from his fine, evocative score
for the film, Scott of the Antarctic.
This performance, despite
its many qualities, has one serious
blemish. Each of the five movements
is headed by a short superscription.
Here these are read before each movement
in question. I don’t know if RVW ever
intended this to happen (and it doesn’t
on the recording made not long after
the première by Barbirolli, who
gave the first performance.) I think
it’s a misjudgement, even when the speaker
is as notable as Sir Ralph Richardson,
not least because it impedes the flow
of the music. However, at least with
CD the listener can choose to programme
these bits out, for at least they are
separately tracked.
The implacable grandeur
of the Arctic landscape is a major feature
of this score and Previn and his players
are very successful at conveying this.
This score is another example of RVW’s
mastery of orchestral scoring (try the
glacial shimmerings at track 2, 3’11"
with the slow bass stirrings underneath,
brilliantly suggestive of the slow,
inexorable stirrings of the polar ice
cap.) The LSO rises brilliantly to all
the challenges of the scoring.
There’s one major disappointment.
This occurs in the awesome central movement,
‘Landscape’, where the music eventually
rises to a terrifying climax, crowned
by full organ, a moment reminiscent
of the literally dreadful moment in
Job where Satan is seen sitting
on the throne of God.. Here, unfortunately,
the instrument is a weedy electronic
effort which makes no impact at all.
One turns to Haitink’s magisterial digital
recording (1985) with relief. Here the
full panoply of a large church organ
is heard and even if the organ is probably
dubbed (no recording venue is given
in the Haitink liner notes) it’s still
much more satisfying than RCA’s poor
effort.
There are suitably
atmospheric contributions from Heather
Harper (again) and the ladies of the
Ambrosian Singers in the outer movements.
This is the one symphony of the nine
over which I have reservations. The
music is superbly atmospheric but does
it really work as a symphony? That said,
Previn and the LSO do it very well and
the recorded sound, if not in the class
of Haitink’s digital sound, is still
very good indeed.
The Eighth is a much
lighter affair than some of its companions,
though not a lightweight. The first
movement, which RVW dubbed ‘variations
without a theme’, are good humoured
and resourceful and Previn presents
the music very well. The perky, witty
scherzo, scored for wind and brass only,
is crisply and impishly delivered. The
strings relish the lovely Cavatina,
as they should. This movement, scored
for strings alone, is typical of the
composer’s understanding, eloquent writing
for strings. The music is in the finest
tradition of English string writing,
a tradition that Vaughan Williams did
so much to foster.
Everyone has a great
deal of fun in the concluding toccata,
not least the five percussion players
who are required in order to play "all
the ’phones and ’spiels known to the
composer", as RVW engagingly put
it. Though this was not his final symphonic
utterance this is the last music that
you will hear if you play through the
CDs in order and this jovial movement
is an exuberant end to this set.
Conclusion
I’m usually wary of
recommending a symphonic cycle by one
conductor and it must be said that there
are many fine performances of each of
these symphonies by rival conductors.
Vernon Handley in particular and Boult
as well have much to offer while Haitink
and Barbirolli have both made some fine
recordings. However, I’ve been most
impressed by this set. Previn clearly
steeped himself in this music and he
is a very reliable guide. The LSO play
very well indeed throughout and in the
‘London’, ‘Pastoral’ and Fifth symphonies,
their playing is peerless. Interestingly,
the recorded sound, which is never less
than fully satisfactory, is also best
of all in these three works. It may
be significant that, to the best of
my recollection, these three were among
the last to be recorded by the team.
It’s a pity that the otherwise very
good documentation omits any mention
of recording dates or venues.
There’s a generous
booklet with comprehensive and good
(though anonymous) notes in English,
French and German and the text of Sea
Symphony is given in all three languages
too.
If you’re looking for
a first class set of the Vaughan Williams
symphonies you won’t go far wrong here.
Even if you already have all or most
of the symphonies in other versions
it’s very well worth adding Previn’s
excellent and remarkably even cycle
to your collection at the modest asking
price.
There’s some wonderful,
life-enhancing music here. I enjoyed
this set enormously from start to finish
and would rate it as one of Previn’s
finest achievements in the recording
studio. I recommend these CDs with great
enthusiasm.
John Quinn
London Symphony Orchestra/André Previn
