An old friend returns
wearing new clothes provided by Dutton Epoch. This collection
was one of Conifer's most enduring successes. Second-hand
copies of CDCF175 still circulate. Now you have no need to
scour e-bay or Amazon to experience these three British works
of the 1930s.
Never mind
the dedication of the Walton work to
the three Sitwells.
The movements are dedicated to: I Osbert; II Edith (she of
the Facade poems); and III Sacheverell. Never mind the title:
Sinfonia
Concertante. This is to all intents and purposes Walton's
piano concerto. It is saved for last on the disc and leaves
the listener on an emphatic upbeat. This is life-enhancing
music - neither precious nor dry. As for the triptych of
dedications there is no need to regard this as a sort ‘friends
pictured within’ indulgence. The music flies on its own sinew-driven
lyrical wings whether syncopated, soughing or startlingly
heroic. The first movement is stunning - and its jazzily
hip-swaying peroration is glorious. It is topped off with
a flurry of strutting confidence. After a touching central
movement we come to the joyous finale with its romping euphoria
and castanet echoes of Constant Lambert. The original 1928
orchestration used here is more dense than the version you
may be familiar with but the luxury of intricacy has not
leached the kick and zest imparted to it by Stott, Handley
and the RPO. Wow! It was premiered in this version at the
Queen’s Hall in 1928 by the Royal Philharmonic Society. York
Bowen was the soloist and Ernest Ansermet, the conductor.
Frank Bridge's
Phantasm bears
the impress of the Second Viennese school. It inhabits the
world of the Second Piano trio, the last two string quartets
and
Oration. The tonality twists in ways that Bridge's
Summer and
The
Sea would never have prepared you for. This work is endlessly
fascinating and has its heroic rhetoric (as at 20:10) as
well as its pastoral poetry even if the world is one of lichen
and ferns rather than bleached fields and sun-lit forests.
The recording is powerful - listen to the RPO horns at 24:30
and to Stott's obsidian verve at 24:03. Every detail emerges
unmistakably. This is music that is both angry and grimly
atmospheric. It joins other fine versions by Peter Wallfisch
on
Lyrita and
Howard Shelley on
Chandos.
The Ireland Piano Concerto often emerges for me as rather precious;
blanched Prokofiev at best. His
Legend
and
Forgotten
Rite are so much better. Not so here where Stott, Handley
and the RPO give the work a sharply delineated captivating character.
This is the most touching and affecting of readings. It steers
well clear of the lavender water we sometimes hear when this work
is played. I am looking forward to hearing my first live concert
reading of this work next Sunday with Mark Bebbington and the
Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Ian McRae.
The notes
for this disc are in English only: the original lyrically-informed
essays by Christopher Palmer, a piece by Conifer capo John
Kehoe and a fresh Vernon Handley essay by Lewis Foreman.
Rob Barnett
Kathryn Stott (piano) 
