Like many another eager
collector I’ve been waiting for Lyrita
to get back to their monos. Not that
more recent performers of this repertoire
haven’t acquitted themselves with the
highest distinction. And obviously recorded
sound back in 1958 can’t compete with
the latest entrants into the field –
high level hiss is ever-present but
is not otherwise greatly intrusive.
No, what collectors of Alan Rowlands’s
Ireland set and Iris Loveridge’s Moeran/Jacob
have looked forward to is the opportunity
for wider appreciation of these two
under-sung and specialist performers.
This was music with which they were
strongly associated and the return of
their classic performances is a matter
for celebration.
Loveridge spins the
Irish Love Song with rich chording
and verdant appreciation. It’s an arrangement
not an original composition – unusual
for Moeran who tended to write tunes
as though they had been long embedded
in the soil. She plays with tremendous
refinement and characterful generosity
and this, chronologically the last work
on the disc, is duly burnished by her
touch. The Theme and Variations opens
with a noble tune which bears the truth
of the foregoing statement; it sounds
like a real folk tune but is actually
a Moeran original. The second variation
is loquacious and free-wheeling which
is contrasted immediately with the following
vigorous march. The sixth variation
is gracious and lyrical but alternates
a balancing chordal section. The finale
finds time for reflection amidst the
flurry, laced with wit; Loveridge is
dramatic at the end.
The rest of the programme
attests to her surety in matters of
style. On a May Morning is charmingly
buffeted by light breezes. The following
year Moeran wrote Three Fancies.
The first, Windmills, is
a rotary study which allows the wind
to drop momentarily before resuming
and ending in a dazzle of treble flecked
colour. Elegy is unusually grim
and powerful – a reminiscence of the
War perhaps. Burlesque restores
the equilibrium with varnished brilliance.
Of all the pieces in the recital Summer
Valley is my favourite. It’s a wonderfully
openhearted and generous setting and
played with especial understanding and
perception by Loveridge. And she is
no less fine in the Three Piano Pieces
of 1919. The first is a water study,
flecked with impressionist tints, Sisley-like
in its evocative dapple. The final study
is a vital and even bucolic At the
Horse Fair.
The foregoing will
give a good idea of just how well Loveridge
absorbed Moeran’s idiom and was able
to communicate it on disc. To add to
the pleasures we have Gordon Jacob’s
1957 Sonata, written for Loveridge.
It lasts just shy of twenty minutes
and is cast in four movements. It opens
reflectively, almost diffidently, but
gradually tension builds through the
establishment of bell chimes and a talkative
milieu is advanced – before things wind
down again into the sense of unease
established at the opening. There’s
a beefy scherzo – very well traversed
by the dedicatee – and an expressive,
rather impressionistic slow movement.
The dynamic finale has moto perpetuo
elements.
These sessions have
stood the test of time. Augment them
if you will with the Parkin and Una
Hunt recordings – both of which are
outstanding and should be on every Moeran
collector’s shelf in any case. But do
investigate these near fifty-year-old
recordings. Moeran admired Loveridge’s
performance of his Rhapsody No.3 and
said so boldly. This is your chance
to hear what an idiomatic player of
his music she really was.
Jonathan Woolf
Iris Loveridge (piano) 
