Opus One has a distinctive job to do to promote 
                    its kind of music so don’t be alarmed by the discs. They come 
                    in a card slipcase with notes on a rather basic booklet which 
                    sometimes sticks itself (and text) to the plastic sheath that 
                    holds them. This is a minor inconvenience and one should remember 
                    that the music is the thing.
                  John Donald Robb 
                    was born in 1892 and lived a very long life, dying only in 
                    1989. He was a lawyer – he practised international law in 
                    New York – but had a parallel interest in music and studied 
                    with composers stretching from oratorio meister Horatio 
                    Parker to Darius Milhaud – and taking in Hindemith, Nadia 
                    Boulanger and Roy Harris as well. Quite a line-up of teachers. 
                    He was also to teach music in New Mexico, founded an orchestra 
                    and conducted it, made extensive ethnomusicological field 
                    trips and did quite some composing.
                  The Symphony is 
                    written in three movements and dates from around the end of 
                    the Second World War. The second movement, Elegy for Our 
                    Dead, has often been performed independently of the symphony 
                    and obviously serves as a memorial. Robb writes in an idiom 
                    somewhere between Vaughan Williams and Bartók. The string 
                    writing is sometimes reminiscent of the former and the folk 
                    sections of the latter, though the ethos, at least in the 
                    first movement is rather light-hearted in a broadly concerto 
                    grosso kind of way. The keening solo cello of the second 
                    movement and string consolation represents something altogether 
                    deeper, especially with its hints of the Barber Adagio.  
                    The finale’s folk variations, on a theme that sounds quite 
                    adjacent to When Jonny Comes Marching Home Again, are 
                    again couched in a VW string cantilevered image and they’re 
                    notably genial, albeit with a quiescent and affirmative close.
                  The companion 
                    work, the 1953 Viola Concerto, is at once a more adventurous 
                    and much less successful work. Based on Mexican folk music 
                    – Robb spent many years in New Mexico – it takes themes native 
                    to the area. The dance drama does however sound subdued and 
                    there’s little really especially distinctive about the writing. 
                    The Mexicana is also rather drably done. True, there are some 
                    colourful local accents in the finale, which is the most distinctive 
                    of the three movements (and has a good throwaway ending) but 
                    too much of this concerto – it’s really more a series of sketches 
                    than a concerto – meanders. 
                  The Polish orchestra 
                    and viola soloist Dariusz Korcz all make a good enough showing 
                    under David Oberg. I wondered initially whether a lack of 
                    sonic immediacy may have blunted the concerto’s impact but 
                    I think not – it’s the work. This is one for those piqued 
                    by obscure Americans who cleave attractively to traditional 
                    models - and who might go easier on the Viola Concerto than 
                    I.
                  Jonathan Woolf 
                  AVAILABILITY
                  Contact: Opus One Box 604, Greenville, 
                    Maine 04441