It could be George
Smiley who peers myopically out at us
through the green pastures of Lyrita’s
booklet cover, but like John Le Carré’s
more famous fictional character, those
who encounter Daniel Jones would do
well not to underestimate him.
Daniel Jones was an
intuitive composer, resisting any kind
of trend or formula, and applying techniques
and systems of composition as it suited
him. This is not to say that his work
is in any way sprawling or undisciplined,
but he was a composer who remained true
to his own instincts in times when others
screamed off into the mists of European
avant-garde – probably one of the reasons
for his enduring but inexplicable obscurity.
Opening with strong,
Messiaen-like unisons, the 6th
Symphony is a rich source of drama and
expression. Filled with rhythmic explorations
and harmonic development, the work is
charged with effortlessly adept orchestration,
sounding remarkably un-British in its
toughness. I admire the deceptive, symmetrical
structure of this piece with its three
paired movements, and I particularly
enjoyed the second movement, in which
a tersely telling Sostenuto is
followed some juicily thematic rollicking
in the second Con brio section.
Jones was involved in operatic writing
at the time he composed the 6th
Symphony, and the sharp twists and turns
in content suggest dramatic narrative,
although no specific programme was apparently
intended. The wealth of detail demands
and rewards concentrated listening,
with remarkable moments fleeting past
as if they were afterthoughts.
Moving on to the 9th
Symphony I felt I had gone home – the
sonorous sound of the BBC Welsh Symphony
Orchestra having become as familiar
to me as tea and biscuits in the 1970s.
I still have Bryden Thomson’s autograph
on a programme somewhere, charmingly
donated at the then oh-so-modern County
Hall in Cwmbran. Like the 6th
Symphony, sonata structures hold together
a classical, four-movement piece which
is heavily laden with musical statements
which sometimes seem to fall over each
other with tumbling, quicksilver energy,
while at the same time having an inevitability
and strength of purpose which is undeniable.
The second Lento movement is
particularly strong, with prayer like
utterances standing against ff cries
of anguish. Pizzicato strings lighten
the mood in the brief Allegro scherzando,
and then we’re back in full flow with
the final Solenne – Con Brio which
drives on with perhaps an overabundance
of Nielsenesque snaps.
Wales’ strong choral
tradition forms the backbone of The
Country Beyond the Stars, which
sets verses by the Breconshire poet
Henry Vaughan (1622-1695). Reading beyond
the linguistic idiom of the day, Vaughan’s
poetry (given complete in the booklet
notes) strikes me as quite modern sounding.
Given that currently less universal
subjects such as religious faith are
strong themes, have a look at the first
verse of ‘The Bird’, a movement which
Jones gives fascinating Langgaard-like
flute filigrees:
Hither though com’st: the busie wind
all
night
Blew through the lodging, where thy
own
warm wing
Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm
(For which course man seems much the
fitter born,)
Rain’d on thy bed
And harmless head.
Take away the capital
letters and you’re almost left with
a pastoral e. e. cummings. Daniel Jones’
settings are warmly passionate, and
leave no doubt as to his sympathy with
the poet’s individuality and single-minded
purposefulness when it comes to mystical
faith and manner of expression. ‘The
Morning Watch’ has all of the uplifting
character which made Elgar a household
name, and ‘The Evening Watch’ is made
into a contemplative companion movement.
The final ‘Chearfulness’ is given a
lively fugal setting which concludes
with an irrepressible ‘Alleluia’.
With such a compilation,
there is of course a little technical
unevenness with the recording. The 6th
Symphony shows its vintage the most,
and all of the performances show how
certain standards and practices have
changed since the 1970s. Intonation
blemishes, the occasional ‘lost phrase’
or wide vibrato in some of the choral
singing all are signs of an age in which
tastes and values were different to
those demanded in today’s digital age.
This said, the performances are deeply
committed and highly effective. My real
point is that these recordings have
by now almost achieved ‘historical’
status, and judging by the quality of
the music here at least one box set
of Jones’ symphonies should be currently
in the shops. A quick trawl of one of
the leading online sales outlets for
classical CDs shows this to be the only
Daniel Jones title available – a genuine
but undeserved ‘Amazonwhack’. Daniel
Jones is a composer whose stature is
easily comparable with someone like
(as an almost random international for-instance)
Vagn Holmboe, and a nicely produced
modern set of recordings would fill
quite a deep, inexplicably unrecognised
void in the British music catalogue.
Dominy Clements
see also review
by Colin Clarke
The
Lyrita Recorded Edition
for
details
cWelsh National Opera Chorus; acRoyal
Philharmonic Orchestra/Sir Charles Groves; bBBC
Welsh Symphony Orchestra/Bryden Thomson 
