Comparative review
http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2004/Apr04/Hoddinott_SRCD331.htm
‘My father knew Lloyd
George’ as the saying goes. Well, at
least I can say ‘my father knew Alun
Hoddinott’, having commissioned a chamber
work from him in the 1960s – evidenced
by a muddy photocopy I have somewhere
in my shockingly disorganised archive.
Newport Art College Concert Society
might not have been a whirling pit of
avant-garde innovation, but Alun Hoddinott’s
symphonies were all certainly commissioned
by leading British orchestras, indicating
the high regard in which his work was
held – and still is, by those who know
it.
Having just listened
to some of Daniel Jones’ (Lyrita SRCD326)
and Malcolm Arnold’s (Lyrita SRCD200)
symphonic work I find it fascinating
to compare and contrast these composers’
individual approach to the problem of
creating new statements in a form which
has been around for centuries. Each
clearly values the symphonic form as
a vehicle for the most detailed, developed
and weightiest of musical statements,
while at the same time always having
the audience in mind. We are challenged,
but if we are open to the language we
are always entertained. Arnold is usually
more easily accessible, layering his
anger under humour and a deft lightness
of touch – poking you with a feather
duster mounted on a sharpened shooting-stick.
Jones throws everything at you, holding
back only on the kitchen sink – nothing
so banal to be included in work of integrity
and sometimes quite intoxicating strength
and beauty. Hoddinott belongs to this
tradition while at the same time seeming
to defy its boundaries. His music is
tough and disciplined, but eschews the
‘big theme’ while embracing the grand
gestures of arch forms and sweepingly
impressive orchestration.
The Second Symphony,
expectedly, has a more youthful feel
than the other works on this disc. The
opening of the first Adagio movement
has all of the forceful nature which
can be found in the other works – just
try switching back to it after hearing
the close of the Fifth Symphony. The
music has however, in general, a softer,
more romantic feel to it than the later
works. The defiant gestures are there
of course, but with a kind of restraint
– less blisteringly confident somehow.
The second Allegro molto can’t
help sounding a little like Shostakovich
now and then, with its dashing winds
and accents of tuned percussion. Stravinsky
gets a little look in at the opening
of the third Molto adagio movement,
and there are some moments of Hindemith-like
thematic gamesmanship in the final movement.
This is not to say that this symphony
is in any way a stylistic mish-mash,
just that Hoddinott’s true voice is
still tinted with shards of the past,
aware and respectful of his near-contemporaries,
while at the same time elbowing them
aside with a powerful individuality.
Symphony No. 3 begins
darkly, bass lines being shadowed with
piano resonances added to the orchestral
palette, whose percussion-rich sound
is immediately more adventurous than
that of the second Symphony. Whereas
the Second Symphony was a conventional
four-movement piece, this Third is in
two movements, each divided into slow-fast,
fast-slow tempi. Sonorous dissonances
and resonant cluster-like chords inhabit
the opening Adagio, and one can
feel Hoddinott’s real voice is coming
through. The following Presto is
equally bass-lead, with menacing chromatic
lines never far away, while winds and
percussion drive forward in staccato
waves or waving ripples. The first movement
ends unresolved, and the arch structure
is emphasised by the impression of a
retrograde movement from this central
point. Angular thematic discourse brings
us to a point of unison, after which
the mood of the opening returns – elusive,
but recognisable, and at times beautifully
expressive.
Hoddinott admits to
the influence of ‘alpine horns, cattle
bells and Tuscan mists’ in Symphony
No. 5, whose genesis occurred during
a summer holiday in Switzerland and
Italy. Like the Third Symphony, it has
two movements. The first Allegro
sustains an ‘interrupted passacaglia’
through eleven minutes, the thematic
threads being broken by more agitated,
rhythmic textures which contrast with
the flow of the passacaglia. The second
movement has some thrilling gestures
and nuances, with some gorgeous string
moments and strong chorales in winds
and brass.
Hoddinott’s music will
not be everybody’s cup of tea. These
are not the kind of symphonies from
which you can come away from humming
the tunes as you go. If you let it,
the music will however insinuate into
your consciousness, broadening your
horizons on the way, and leaving you
perhaps just a little sadder and wiser
than before. The recordings on this
CD are good, without being entirely
faultless. Symphony No. 2 sounds a little
desiccated and has one minor tape fault
which I didn’t find particularly disturbing,
but the other symphonies have a satisfying
sound, and all are well performed. Anyone
interested in finding out if there is
life beyond Tippett will find much to
discover and enjoy here.
Dominy Clements
see also
review by Colin Clarke
LYRITA
CATALOGUE
for
details
abLondon Symphony Orchestra/aNorman
Del Mar, bDavid Atherton; cRoyal
Philharmonic Orchestra/Andrew Davis 
