Gerald Finzi passed
away almost fifty years ago. At last,
perhaps, his music will receive its
due with recordings as exemplary as
this. Here is, in many ways, a tenor
companion piece to the recent recording
of Finzi’s baritone songs by Roderick
Williams. review
Gilchrist and Williams
frequently work together and both have
developed a direct, modern approach
to English song which articulates it
with vividness and immediacy. But there
is a dramatic difference between the
two recordings. This one, recorded by
Linn Records, manufacturers of the legendary
Linn Sondek turntables, is state of
the art in terms of sound quality. Usually
sound quality doesn’t bother me at all,
but when it is as clear and perfect
as this, it is breath-taking. It sounds
as if the performers are there in the
room by you: the intimacy of sound is
amazingly pure and natural. Linn is
a specialist, independent label which
uses art audiophile techniques. They
do not compromise whatsoever on quality,
and it pays off. This is what recording
should be: after listening to this,
it’s painful to listen to recordings
where quality has been sacrificed for
cost.
I’ve started to investigate
the rest of the Linn catalogue and enjoy
music I might not otherwise explore.
Their motto is right: these recordings
are "sublime". linnrecords.com
Gilchrist’s voice is
in superb form here, his pure, clean
tone even throughout his range. The
recording starts with a selection of
songs gathered together posthumously
as a group, taking their title from
the lovely O fair to see. As
a group it covers Finzi’s whole career,
from the early (1921) As I lay in
the early sun to To Joy,
completed brief weeks before his death.
O fair to see, to a poem by Christina
Rossetti is Finzi’s take on the very
similar Housman poem When I was one
and twenty. One wonders how Finzi
might have set Housman had he not been
more attuned to Hardy. Nonetheless,
Finzi’s choice of poets reflected his
own introspective sensitivity. He was
a champion of Ivor Gurney, both as composer
and poet. The piano interlude in Only
the Wanderer captures the subtle,
understated nature of Gurney’s tragedy,
framing the cry from the heart "Do
not forget me, O Severn meadows".
Finzi was a friend of Edmund Blunden,
too. Blunden’s poem is ostensibly about
a still-born baby, but, given Finzi’s
fondness for cryptic tributes to his
wife, Joy, could there not be some hidden
reference to Finzi himself as dependent
on her warmth? Certainly Since we
loved has been described by Stephen
Banfield as Finzi’s "beautiful
and perfect final love letter to Joy,
to his art and to life itself",
even though Finzi, though ridden with
cancer, did not know he was about to
die. Gilchrist sings both with a tenderness
that evokes the depth of love that lifts
these songs to a level of elegance that
belies their simplicity. Knowing what
we know about the Finzi’s marriage and
his imminent passing, the lines about
" a babe beloved – thrust out
alone upon death’s wilderness"
take on extra poignancy.
The same emotional
depth infuses In years defaced,
whose lines "Till Earth outwears
shall love like theirs suffuse this
glen". Finzi’s songs for tenor
are often less dramatic than his songs
for baritone, placing more on the performer’s
ability to draw meaning and colour from
their simplicity. For example, The
Market girl as a poem is excruciatingly
maudlin. Finzi’s setting is so pure
that one overlooks the banality: Gilchrist
sings it without sentimentality, respecting
the dignity of feeling behind the unfortunate
text.
A young man’s exhortation
(1926-9) is musically far superior.
Finzi contrasts songs of youth with
songs of reflection, writing more variation
into individual songs. Indeed, Gilchrist
positively delights in the exuberant
outburst of glee that marks "exalt
and crown the hour" in the
first song, so different from the self-effacing
reticence of much of Finzi’s style.
Ditty, unsurprisingly is not
a "ditty" so much as an exquisite
meditation on love. Tilbrook’s playing
is delicate, a lovely counterfoil to
the sensuous "there she dwells!"
Gilchrist excels in this song, singing
with suppressed passion. Finzi then
provides a true Hardyesque moment. The
Budmouth Dears and the soldiers
who court them come alive in "with
a smart Clink! Clink! Up the esplanade
and down!" This is a vivid
picture straight out of a Wessex tale.
Gilchrist cuts a dash, too. Even more
dramatic is Shortening Days,
where Finzi varies his tempi and phrasing.
It gives Gilchrist a chance to sing
an expansive crescendo at the end. The
Sigh could almost be as embarrassing
as The Market girl, but the piano
part is more sophisticated, and Gilchrist
again sings without coyness. The Budmouth
dears return again, now elderly, in
Former Beauties. A snatch of
the "gay tunes" of
the past echoes in the piano part: the
gentle timbre of the voice bespeaks
sympathy. Finzi returns to minor key
in The Dance continued, but warms
it with lines that open upwards and
evaporate in lilting dance-like figures.
Death seems almost a pleasure "slumbering
peacefully".
Of the various Finzi
recordings this year, this is the one
to get, and to enjoy for years to come.
It is head and shoulders above any other
versions I’ve heard. Before and After
Summer and the baritone songs may
be technically more sophisticated, but
Gilchrist is definitely my top recommendation
for the sheer beauty of performance.
The simpler the song, the more essential
is a good, thoughtful understanding
of its inner qualities. Gilchrist sings
with an intelligence that adds great
poise, making some of them sound like
master-works. This is what good performance
– and exceptionally good recording –
is all about. Will Linn record more
of Gilchrist and Finzi, perhaps Dies
Natalis itself ? I hope so, and
look forward to almost anything Linn
will promote.
Anne Ozorio