Here are six concise
three-movement concertos in chronological
sequence. Across five decades the composer
encompasses a broad range of moods and
poetry. The confidence of the works
of the 1940s and 1950s contrasts with
the bleak intimations that gatecrash
the works of the 1970s and 1980s.
This disc is a rebadged
version of EMI Studio CDM 7 63491 2
from 1990 now long gone to the deleters
in the sky. The recordings were originally
derived from a couple of EMI Arnold
LPs and it’s perhaps worth a few moments
of black disc archaeology before we
get into the review proper. The first
of the two LPs is an analogue original:
ASD 3868 with the two flute concertos,
the Serenade and the Sinfonietta No.
3. The second derives from early digital
sessions issued on LP in 1984, the year
after the tentative launch of the CD
in the UK. The catalogue number is EL
27 0264 and covers the remainder of
the concertos on the current CD. Intriguingly,
in 1978 the American flautist John Solum
was the soloist in the same two flute
concertos plus the first two Sinfoniettas.
His orchestra was the Philharmonia and
the conductor was Neville Dilkes. That
EMI vinyl was ASD 3487; it was one of
those hybrid stereo/quadraphonic discs.
I have never understood why the Solum
flute concertos were disdained and why
within two years Adeney was in the studio
remaking the flute concertos. The original
Dilkes/Solum LP has survived only in
relation to the two Sinfoniettas which
found their way onto EMI CLASSICS CDZ
5 74780 2 review
. Was there something wrong with
those Solum sessions? Did the composer
object? Were there contractual problems?
Who knows? In any event there is clearly
glowing value in having the Adeney recordings
as he was the dedicatee, first performer
and principal flute in the LPO in which
Arnold played.
Has any clarinettist
produced such an engagingly whoozy lilt
as that delivered by Janet Hilton (not
Jane Hilton as claimed on the
rear cover) in the first movement of
the Clarinet Concerto No. 1?
Perhaps Adeney challenges her in the
finale of the first flute concerto.
In the Clarinet Concerto, after a first
movement that offers evidence of Arnold's
film music successes the second and
the almost grafted-on perfunctory finale,
are more severe and querulous. Although
Arnold was no fashion-submissive this
severity was in line with what was expected
at the Edinburgh Festival where the
Clarinet Concerto was premiered by its
dedicatee, Frederick Thurston.
The Oboe Concerto
is a personal favourite and was
part of the highway that lead me to
enthusiasm for Arnold. While Donald
Hunt takes things a tad more quickly
than I prefer this is a lovely reading
where the accent is on lilting urgency.
Menace stalks the singing pages of the
central vivace with its echoes
of the First Symphony. Fascinating how
the finale sounds astonishingly and
very briefly similar to the opening
bars of the finale of the Finzi Clarinet
Concerto premiered months earlier at
the Three Choirs. This movement epitomises
the singing greatness of Arnold with
its longing, poignancy, searching grace
and directness. It was written for,
dedicated to and premiered by Leon Goossens.
Superficial similarities include Nielsen,
Rodrigo and even Binge!
The ripely recorded
Horn Concerto No. 2 was a vehicle
for the poetry and virtuosity of Dennis
Brain who died in a car accident shortly
after the premiere at the 1957 Cheltenham
Festival. The andantino grazioso
as heard here does have echoes of
Gymnopédie No. 1 although
it is pressed forward with more speed
than the Satie standard. Norman Del
Mar - a horn-player in his time - here
conducts. The solo is taken by Dennis
Brain's friend, Alan Civil.
The Flute Concerto
No. 1 is distinguished by its mordant
dissonances contrasted with a singing
solo line and a central andante of
aspiring romanticism. It is fascinating
that Arnold's Flute Concerto No.
2 was premiered at the Aldeburgh
Festival; not exactly standard Britten-compliant
fare. It's a shade darker than the first
concerto so less of a troubadour but
the singing seam is still there as if
the years of the Oboe Concerto were
glimpsed darkly. There's also a dark
dancer pirouetting through the Vivace.
Balletic graces also come to the fore
in the finale almost as much as in the
second movement of George Lloyd's Fourth
Symphony heard recently in Manchester
with Rumon Gamba and the BBCPO.
John Wallace's Trumpet
Concerto reminds me of the Cornish
Dances and of the roughly contemporaneous
finale of the Eighth Symphony. There
is however a Handelian heaviness in
the sinews which is shed for the flighty
staccato adrenaline of the finale. This
is the shortest of six concertos - all
over and done with in eight minutes.
I wonder if EMI will
be producing their own Arnold Memorial
Edition. In addition to these concertos
the company has fine versions of symphonies
1, 2 and 5 as well as the three Sinfoniettas,
the Serenade and various sets of dances
and overtures.
The intrinsic attractions
of this issue are enhanced by its complementary
virtues now that we have volume 2 of
the Decca Arnold Edition 4765343. That
four CD set of seventeen of the concertos
omits the concertos for oboe and trumpet
so this disc is attractive as an invaluable
supplement.
A splendidly balanced
and recorded single disc collection
presenting most of the many facets of
Malcolm Arnold.
Rob Barnett