It is somewhat surprising
that in this, his 85th year,
one of England’s finest living composers
is absent from this year’s BBC Proms.
Here is a man who completed his Ninth
Symphony over twenty years ago,
hoping that it would be the last composition
that he wrote. Surely some kind of celebration
could have been possible? Given the
lack of attention granted to Arnold
recently, it is doubly welcome to have
the current set of recordings back in
circulation. The CD couples the sets
of English, Scottish and
Cornish dances recorded in 1979
with the later set of Irish dances
recorded in 1990 although the booklet
does not give recording dates or venues.
Arnold had a long relationship with
the London Philharmonic, having been
appointed principal trumpet in 1942,
at the tender age of 21. It comes as
no surprise then that the results of
these recordings are very happy indeed.
Arnold is a composer
with an extraordinary grasp of orchestration
and a great facility for integrating
popular idioms and rather more modernist
techniques. However, whereas many composers
would take less care over ‘light music’
miniatures, Arnold in the sets of regional
dances on this disc, lavished just as
much attention to detail as can be found
in his symphonies.
The disc opens with
the two sets of English Dances.
These, amongst Arnold’s most popular
works, were composed in the early 1950s
at the suggestion of his publisher to
‘try his hand at something like Dvořák’s
Slavonic Dances. There
are similarities between the two sets
of works in that both composers, whilst
certainly influenced by local dance
forms, managed to evoke the spirit of
their respective countries without resorting
to pre-existing folk tunes.
Each of the eight (in
total) English Dances is distinct
from the others. The opening Andantino
is a graceful waltz with a pleasing
melody initially played by strings that
contrasts with rather more craggy brass
sonorities in the central section. Exuberant
brass fanfares open the Vivace,
displaying the rhythmic dexterity of
the LPO trumpets of the day and featuring
some excellent horn playing elsewhere.
Arnold’s own distinctive interpretation
of his own works is evident in the ensuing
Mesto, substantially slower than
most rivals (a full fifty per-cent longer
than Groves for EMI in 1976, EMI British
Composers CDZ5747802). He gives his
players extra space to phrase and nuance
the material in a more vocal way. Whilst
the result is very beautiful, some may
miss an element of folk-song that is
present when played at a more flowing
tempo. The concluding movement of the
first set, Allegro risoluto finds
its numerous hemiolae and syncopations
dispatched with great élan. It
was here, however, that I first noticed
how the otherwise excellent recorded
sound is a little too reverberant for
this music, giving the orchestra a big,
beefy sound that some might find inappropriate.
The generally excellent
standard of playing continues in the
second set of English Dances.
Number 2, Con brio, features
some particularly perky wind playing
and some nicely characterised brass
band-esque passages. The conclusion
is hugely exciting and uplifting. The
following grazioso once again
takes the form of a waltz, its wistfulness
enhanced by the modal inflections and
harmonic pedals. After a more positive
brass climax the music subsides to the
accompaniment of evocative bells. The
last of these English Dances
is an absolute joy, Arnold using numerous
rhythmic tricks to generate excitement.
The spectacular conclusion (lento
e maestoso) finds trombones declaiming
a folk-like melody against the rest
of the orchestra. However, this does
highlight the fact that trombones and
trumpets are far too prominent in the
recorded balance in comparison to the
wind and horns.
The two sets of English
Dances proved so popular that the
choreographer Kenneth MacMillan decided
to utilise them for a ballet, Solitaire,
at Sadler’s Wells in 1956. To the existing
eight movements Arnold added another
two, a Sarabande and Polka.
The former is a melancholy piece, highly
lyrical yet with an occasional moment
of dissonance. The performance here
is outstandingly beautiful, sensitive
and restrained. Wind solos are exquisitely
taken and the strings soar as if one
instrument. The witty Polka comes
as a complete contrast. Its cheeky opening
melody (for two piccolos) will stay
with you (against your will, no doubt)
for days. The brass are suitably raucous
at times with many a clichéd
trombone slide. Indeed, it is an immensely
humorous performance, generally dead-pan
but with the occasional witty moment.
However, it is definitely one of the
lesser pieces on the disc.
In contrast to the
exuberant, charming and always melodious
English Dances, the Irish
Dances of 1986 show a new toughness
and astringency to the musical language
far more in keeping with the roughly
contemporaneous Ninth Symphony.
Arnold himself has said of that troubled,
despairing work that it came after a
five year period during which he had
‘been through Hell’ (from an interview
with Andrew Penny on Naxos’ recording
of the symphony, Naxos 8.553540, 1996).
Sonorities are often of a far darker
hue and textures starker. This is immediately
noticeable in the opening Allegro
con energico with its driving tenor
drum and in the dissonant string counterpoint
in the following Commodo. Despite
a brief interjection of a wind quartet,
the latter piece is written entirely
for strings, and elegiac lament that
is a far cry from the grace and/or wistfulness
of the slower numbers of the English
Dances. Number three, Piacevole
is built almost entirely on a descending
sequence of yearning dissonances heard
at the outset and, whilst the concluding
Vivace is in the form of a jig,
it also is highly dissonant. Given the
decade between these recordings and
the other items on the disc, the results
are remarkably consistent in terms of
both sound and level of orchestral polish.
The remaining two sets
of dances, the Scottish and Cornish,
predictably fall between the extremes
of the English and Irish.
The Pesante opening dance of
the Scottish set contains the typical
elements of ‘Scottish’ music - bagpipes
are imitated by drone trombones and
the ubiquitous ‘Scotch snap’ - elements
similar to those of Hungarian folk-music,
explaining why the opening is more than
a little reminiscent of Bartók.
That said, it is not long before the
music acquires some of Arnold’s typical
rhythmic drive and harmonic signature.
The Scottish dance-form of the ‘reel’
is employed for the Vivace, a
repeating melody that constantly rises
in pitch. The (excellent) booklet notes
how ‘the bassoonist seems to be drunk’
in one variation. All credit to the
LPO’s principal bassoon for conveying
this vividly without a hint of vulgarity.
After a sweet, romantic Allegretto
- lovely flute playing - Arnold concocts
a typically exuberant Con brio,
performed with all the verve and excitement
that one has come to expect from this
disc.
It may have occurred
to the reader that the order of programming
on this disc makes no chronological
sense in terms of composition date or
recording date. But there could be no
better way to end this disc than with
the fabulous Cornish Dances.
Arnold lived in Cornwall for a number
of years in the 1960s and was apparently
very happy there. That is borne out
in these four affectionately witty,
sometimes slyly parodic miniatures.
The opening Vivace takes a pastiche
sea-song theme and cycles it through
too many keys to mention, the orchestration
dominated by horns and brass, who play
with boisterous excitement. The Andantino
that follows is perhaps the most extraordinary
track on the disc. The mysteriously
shimmering strings and bells that accompany
the chromatically winding wind lines
at the outset suggest perhaps a mist
shrouded fishing trawler at sea; the
effect is certainly eerie and the immense
cymbal rolls at the heart of the movement
would certainly suggest something nautical.
Arnold creates a peculiar air of stasis
at this point with use of dissonant
note clusters. The playing in this movement
is extremely delicate and the balance
immaculate. As a point of interest,
Arnold himself with the CBSO in 1972
(EMI British Composers CDZ5747802) took
a full minute less than he does here,
and the same can be said of the following
con moto. Labelled sempre
parodia, this movement provides
some light relief, a parody of a sentimental
sea song or hymn as played by an increasingly
blatant brass band. The tambourine player
even gets ‘lost’ at the end, resulting
in an impromptu solo before the final
chord. The final allegro ma non troppo
juxtaposes two distinct ideas, both
building in intensity before a suitably
noisy climax.
All in all, then, a
superb disc. The quality of playing
throughout is magnificent, the orchestra
obviously responding to the authority
of the composer. The sound quality is
frequently spectacular - sometimes a
little too much - certainly finer than
much of the competition. A first choice
for this repertoire then? Yes and, indeed,
no. Since this disc’s original release
in 1990, Arnold has added a set of Welsh
Dances. These can be found on a
single Naxos CD (Naxos 8.553526) along
with the English, Irish, Scottish
and Welsh sets. If you want all
of them, you have little choice. If
you can do without the Welsh Dances,
then this Lyrita CD is without question
the one to have.
Owen E. Walton
see also review
by Colin Clarke
for
details
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Sir Malcolm Arnold.
