When I first saw the 
                advert for this CD I assumed that it 
                was the ‘sweepings up’ from the floor 
                of the Lyrita studios: it was all the 
                bits and pieces from their vinyl pressings 
                that could not find a home elsewhere. 
                Yet two things made me modify that view. 
                Firstly I know that there is a vast 
                amount of material awaiting re-release 
                (the mono recordings of Jacob, White, 
                Ireland and Wordsworth, for example) 
                and secondly, as I listened to this 
                CD I realised that it made a fine introduction 
                to Musical Britain. I remember as a 
                child books called the ‘Boy’s Guide 
                to’ … Field-craft, Trains, Racing Cars 
                et al. Perhaps this, in a more PC age, 
                could be referred to as the "Individual’s 
                Guide to British Music"? 
              
 
              
The CD opens with a 
                piece that was written when Great Britain 
                was a ‘land without music.’ The Galop 
                is probably the most famous excerpt 
                from Michael Balfe’s best known opera: 
                The Bohemian Girl. And of course 
                it was once a Tommy Beecham ‘Lollipop’. 
                Perhaps Balfe’s twenty-nine operas do 
                not signify in the early 21st 
                century when compared to G&S, Tippett 
                or Benjamin Britten, but in his day 
                he was a seriously popular composer. 
                And Ireland – Balfe was born in Dublin 
                - was at that time part of the United 
                Kingdom! 
              
 
              
I usually baulk at 
                excerpting from Elgar’s Enigma Variations. 
                My exception is the annual outing of 
                Nimrod at the Cenotaph: I can 
                forgive anything in those circumstances. 
                So I suppose I am not really happy about 
                one short variation being given here. 
                Yet here it is - Dorabella which 
                follows on from Nimrod and is 
                a complete change of tone, mood and 
                emotion. We hear the ‘stammering lightness’ 
                and ‘merry chatter’ of Elgar’s helper 
                and admired Dora Penny. It is a lovely 
                piece that actually does stand alone 
                … just about … although I feel that 
                it is much more telling and effective 
                following that great Beethovenian variation 
                in the complete work. 
              
 
              
And how often do we 
                hear the P&C March No.5? 
                Even enthusiasts of ‘Grunge’ cannot 
                have avoided ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ 
                in their lives’ journey. But how many 
                know the other four (five)? I guess 
                most people over the age of thirty-five 
                will recall No. 4 in G being 
                played as the recessional at the Prince 
                and Princess of Wales’s wedding. The 
                rest are little known and rarely heard. 
                But please note that this late - it 
                was composed four years before Elgar’s 
                death - march is rather good. And the 
                interesting thing is that most of us 
                come to it afresh. It has not accrued 
                the baggage - good, bad and indifferent 
                - of being an alternative National Anthem 
                played at the Proms. 
              
 
              
I am not an opera fan, 
                but I have always loved The Walk 
                to Paradise Garden by Fred Delius. 
                I know the opera A Village Romeo 
                and Juliet and realise that it has 
                a tragic context in that work. However, 
                I got to know the piece on an old Beecham 
                release of Delius orchestral works on 
                Decca Eclipse and have had my own programme 
                for this work ever since! So I suggest 
                that listeners dump the libretto and 
                see this piece as a nature poem – descriptive 
                of whatever landscape or mindscape moves 
                them most. 
              
 
              
Percy Grainger is a 
                rare personality. He wrote a vast amount 
                of music that is little played these 
                days. I am not a fan of his, yet I do 
                appreciate that he was probably a wayward 
                genius. And a few of his works do have 
                the capacity to move me: most I find 
                entertaining. The majority of listeners 
                will know his ubiquitous Country 
                Gardens which was arranged for just 
                about every instrumental combination 
                possible. Yet Shepherd’s Hey 
                and the Immovable Do presented 
                here deserve greater popularity. The 
                latter piece was inspired by a leaking 
                harmonium which continually sounded 
                a ‘high C’ throughout the performance 
                of whatever Grainger was playing. Shepherd’s 
                Hey is based on the folk tune ‘The 
                Keel Row’. Incidentally, the score was 
                dedicated to Edvard Grieg. Both miniatures 
                are worthy additions to the repertoire 
                and would make excellent encores - if 
                given the chance. 
              
 
              
Our musical exploration 
                moves back to Ireland. This time it 
                is the second movement of Sir Hamilton 
                Harty’s fine Irish Symphony – 
                subtitled The Fair-Day. Most 
                people will associate Harty with the 
                Hallé Orchestra which he conducted 
                between 1920 and 1933. Yet he was also 
                an accomplished composer who wrote not 
                only the present work but a wonderful 
                piano concerto, a violin concerto and 
                a number of other excellent pieces. 
                Fortunately, most of these were released 
                on Chandos a number of years ago and 
                are still available. Additionally, Naxos 
                has contributed their recordings of 
                the Symphony and the Piano Concerto. 
                Harty is a composer well worth investigating. 
                The present piece is a fine evocation 
                of a ‘Fair Day’ in Ireland that must 
                have been familiar to the composer as 
                a young man. Look out for the fiddler 
                tuning up and the fine reel! 
              
 
              
Everyone knows that 
                Peter Warlock was a pseudonym. His real 
                name was Philip Heseltine. He took the 
                name of Warlock after some involvement 
                with occult mysteries after time spent 
                in Ireland during the Great War. More 
                often noted for his superb songs, Warlock 
                composed a mere handful of works for 
                orchestral forces – including An 
                Old Song, the Serenade for Frederick 
                Delius and the Capriol Suite. 
                Best known in its string orchestra incarnation, 
                this latter work was originally given 
                as a piano duet. Latterly it was arranged 
                for full orchestra – this is the version 
                we hear on this CD. The Suite 
                is based on tunes found in an antique 
                dissertation called ‘Orchesography’ 
                which was supposedly penned by a certain 
                ‘Capriol’. The programme notes inform 
                us that the Suite was rejected 
                by a number of publishers: this is hard 
                to imagine since we now regard the work 
                as one of the minor masterpieces of 
                20th century music. Apparently 
                Warlock sold the work for a mere 25 
                guineas! 
              
 
              
Lord Berners’ real 
                name is much more impressive – Gerald 
                Hugh Tyrwhitt-Wilson: it sounds as if 
                it were straight out of a P.G. Wodehouse 
                novel. He was an artist and a ballet 
                producer whose day-job appeared to be 
                that of a diplomat. Moving in the rarefied 
                atmosphere of the Sitwells it is not 
                surprising that he was an eccentric. 
                The Triumphs of Neptune 
                was conceived by Sacheverell and eventually 
                became a successful feature for the 
                Ballets Russes. The Hornpipe 
                does not press on to the limits of musical 
                invention, but it is attractive and 
                does justice to its nautical origins. 
                It is well worth discovering other music 
                by this fascinating, if somewhat odd, 
                composer. 
              
 
              
Gustav Holst’s St 
                Paul’s Suite surely needs no introduction 
                or recommendation to readers of these 
                pages. Yet sometimes it is easy to forget 
                that this work comes from the same pen 
                as The Planets. The work 
                is conducted here by the composer’s 
                daughter Imogen: to my ear it is one 
                of the best recordings of this work 
                in the repertoire. It is a Suite 
                that must be listened to in its entirety 
                and not excerpted. 
              
 
              
The last piece is a 
                major masterpiece. Along with Tippett’s 
                Double Concerto and Elgar’s Introduction 
                and Allegro it is one of the most 
                important essays in string writing in 
                British musical literature. The Tallis 
                Fantasia is a work that seems to 
                gather up the whole tradition of England 
                – its landscape, its literature and 
                its religion. It is impossible to listen 
                to this work without being aware of 
                the whole sweep of history – both musical 
                and otherwise. In one sense it is a 
                timeless work, yet in another it is 
                as much a part of twentieth century 
                music as Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue 
                or Berg’s Violin Concerto. The Fantasia 
                is a visionary score which marked its 
                composer out as a major figure in the 
                British musical scene. 
              
 
              
Most cognoscenti of 
                British music will have all these works 
                in their CD collections. This release 
                is a bit of a pot-pourri. Yet 
                consider this. It is good to take the 
                opportunity of listening to a variety 
                of pieces played end to end - now and 
                again; it reminds us of our whole musical 
                heritage. And lastly if you know anyone 
                who is edging towards an appreciation 
                of the native music of the British Isles 
                – this is the present for them. In either 
                case – Buy it! 
              
 
              
John France  
              
See also review 
                by Rob Barnett