scarecrowpress 
              
              
It is not as if these 
                six composers have a great deal in common. 
                In only the most generalised sense can 
                they be said to be a ‘school’. They 
                are identified rather by the fact that 
                they demonstrated no or little sympathy 
                with twelve tone music or for that matter 
                with jazz. 
              
 
              
Bloch was the only 
                one of the six to be born outside the 
                USA. Hanson wrote in a style I recognise 
                as Nordic but cannot quite pin down. 
                Barber, Creston, Flagello and Giannini 
                form a kind of school - what I might 
                broadly describe as a series of Puccinian-Sibelian 
                subsets. Bloch's later works from the 
                American years were somewhat receptive 
                to dodecaphonic trends. His earlier 
                works were impressionistic and romantic. 
                Flagello also flirted with 12-tone technique. 
                Bloch was an émigré while 
                the others, with the exception of Barber, 
                are second generation Americans born 
                in Philadelphia, New York City and Wahoo 
                Nebraska - the latter being Howard Hanson’s 
                home town. 
              
 
              
The uniting idea of 
                demeaned traditionalists can be compared 
                with Paul Rapoport's 1978 book ‘Opus 
                Est’. In the case of Rapoport's 
                volume six European composers were treated 
                each to their own section with a biographical 
                account and technical dissection of 
                one key work. The composers treated 
                there included Matthijs Vermeulen, Havergal 
                Brian, Allan Pettersson and Vagn Holmboe. 
              
 
              
Walter Simmons’ book 
                should be a set text for students of 
                music history everywhere. The marginalisation 
                of some musicians, the primacy of fashion 
                and the brutal interface between economics 
                and arts make for provocative reading. 
                Malcolm Macdonald had already done something 
                similar in his Triad Press book on John 
                Foulds, the introduction to which also 
                shows a real grasp of these issues. 
              
 
              
Voices in the Wilderness 
                is in many ways more satisfying 
                to the general reader than ‘Opus Est’. 
                Biographical coverage is pretty substantial 
                and all major works are given at least 
                one paragraph. This is coupled with 
                notes, bibliography and an essential 
                discography for each composer. 
              
 
              
Fashion's tectonic 
                plates have shifted towards this music 
                now. Cross-Over, minimalism, world music, 
                film music, the high noon of the CD, 
                the pervasive internet and its scope 
                for information and enthusiasm-sharing 
                have made the music world far more inclusive. 
                There’s room for the radicalism of the 
                sixties and seventies alongside the 
                discoveries of the eighties and nineties 
                as well as for every other genre of 
                music. 
              
 
              
The book looks and 
                feels good with superb and fitting design 
                by Jennifer Noel Huppert. There is no 
                dust wrapper. Instead the hardback cover 
                is laminated rather like those Pergamon 
                Press books from the 1960s. 
              
 
              
Walter Simmons is well 
                known as a writer evangelising for lost 
                generations of composers - not because 
                they are lost - not only because they 
                are lost - but because their music is 
                worthwhile. He may not have heard all 
                of it but he knows enough from scores 
                and treasured private recordings to 
                say that if this man or woman wrote 
                this or that work then his other music 
                is worth revival and reappraisal. Maybe 
                some of it will be allowed to slip back 
                to oblivion but only after it has been 
                given its second chance. 
              
 
              
The value of this book 
                is in its evangelisation through knowledge 
                and reticence. It lacks excesses and 
                overt advocacy. We are not told what 
                to think. We are made curious, intrigued. 
                I hope that existing and new generations 
                will be encouraged to perform this music 
                and when it is recorded to buy the recordings 
                and listen with receptive appraising 
                ears. 
              
 
              
Slake your enthusiastic 
                curiosity with this well informed and 
                poised book but be prepared to discover 
                new enthusiasms and the nagging grains 
                of a fresh curiosity. Pick this up as 
                a convenient quick read on Barber or 
                Bloch but do not be surprised if you 
                come away with questions seriously disturbing 
                to the concert and recording status 
                quo. 
              
 
              
At the end of it all 
                you may well be demanding with me why 
                there are no commercial recordings of 
                Giannini's Medead, Psalm 130 
                for cello and orchestra or symphonies 
                4 and 5. 
              
Rob Barnett