Gerald Finzi’s Concerto
for Clarinet and String Orchestra
was written with clarinettist Pauline
Juler in mind, but in the end received
its premiere at the Hereford Three Choirs
Festival of 1949 with Frederick Thurston
as soloist. The strength of this work’s
musical ideas, its classically powerful
string writing – no doubt partly the
result of Finzi’s experience as conductor
of the Newbury String Players – have
made it one of the composer’s enduring
masterpieces.
Soloist John Denman was
born in London into a musical family
and attended the Royal Military School
of Music, serving as solo clarinet in
the Band of the Life Guards, part of
the Royal Escort. After leaving the
service, he embarked upon a distinguished
musical career, playing Principal Clarinet
for most of London’s major orchestras,
performing as concerto soloist and recitalist
and broadcasting for the BBC. His discovery
and subsequent recording of the second
Clarinet Concerto of Louis Spohr established
him as one of the leading virtuoso players
of the day, while his recording of the
Finzi Clarinet Concerto showcases his
limpid lyrical playing. I was reminded
of Benny Goodman’s lovely supple tone
while listening to the concerto, and
it turns out that Denman went into the
American jazz scene after emigrating
in 1976. The little touches of vibrato
and wonderful sense of phrasing and
timing make this performance a delight
for the listener right from the start.
There are a few alternatives
for this work in the current catalogue,
but as luck would have it the only one
I have to hand is unlikely to be found
in the shops: Michael Collins with the
City of London Sinfonia under Richard
Hickox on Virgin Classics (VC 7 90718-2).
I’ve been a fan of Collins ever since
he came and did a gig at what was later
to become my sixth-form college, but
I have to admit that I much prefer the
characterful playing of Denman. I also
prefer the richer Lyrita string sound.
The whole thing is like a warm musical
bath in which you wish you could wallow
all weekend.
The Concerto for Cello
and Orchestra, Finzi’s last work
for substantial forces, is played by
a very young Yo-Yo Ma, who at this point
in his career had not long graduated
from Harvard University. It must be
one of his very first concerto recordings,
but is unacknowledged on his website.
Vernon Handley has recorded this concerto
as recently as 2001 with Raphael Wallfisch
on the Chandos label. I must admit that
this is the first time I’ve come across
this work, and can say that the combination
of Ma’s mature playing and Handley’s
sensitive orchestral accompaniment make
for a moving experience. There is a
touching anecdote re-told in Diana McVeagh’s
comprehensive notes for this Lyrita
CD. A little over a year after the work’s
premiere in July 1955 it was the last
music that Finzi heard, on a broadcast
that happened to be given on the evening
before he died.
Although the music has
elements which might be interpreted
as nostalgic and expressive of the finality
of Finzi’s predicament, there is no
way this monumental 40 minute work could
be heard as the work of a dying man
if you didn’t know this to be the case.
Much of the music has a pithy energy
and inner drive which has impact from
the start, and resolves in a final movement
full of rousing cheer after a remarkable
opening of wide pizzicati from the soloist
and a pastoral Adagio introduction.
The central Andante quieto carries
a great deal of the emotional weight
of the concerto, with a singing opening
theme over an often descending bass
line. The music never lapses into soft
sentimentality however, and retains
a restless character even where the
flow is at its most juicily romantic.
The climax is hard-won, but worth every
minute.
Lyrita’s analogue recording
is, as one might expect, to a very high
standard on this release. Potential
purchasers need have no qualms about
having to compromise with the analogue
taping, there being a distinct lack
of tape hiss but bags of detail, spacious
stereo and oodles of bass wallop. These
recordings are to be welcomed most warmly,
and should be part of the beating heart
of any collection seeking to contain
some of the best of British music.
Dominy Clements