I suppose
it is too much to hope that the parlous state of the Icelandic
economy will not hobble this series. Fingers crossed that
the series will not end in just two volumes; the
first appeared
in 2007 .
Williamson’s
First
Symphony Elevamini (‘Be ye lifted up’) is
intended to portray the journey of the soul. It is a
serious piece. The language is mildly astringent; not
that dissimilar from mature William Alwyn. Two earnest
movements are separated by a merry-eyed
Allegretto.
The latter seems to career between Copland and Beethoven.
It's very entertaining. No wonder it has provoked enthusiasm
- first from Boult who seemingly paid for a private premiere
with the LPO and then in the 1970s from Charles Groves.
Groves recorded it with the RLPO in the 1970s. That version
was recorded by EMI and has since reappeared in a
Lyrita
CD reissue. The finale has dynamism which is alternated
with a sort of clouded peace. The alternation of mood
becomes increasingly impassioned but the work ends in
a steady held note in the strings - a redemptive confidence
in future peace.
The two
Sitwell
Epitaphs for strings are based on a theme from
the slow movement of a work I have never taken to:
his 1965 Violin Concerto. The first shimmers and strides
- part RVW-
Tallis-like and part brusque. The
second
Epitaph shivers rather than shimmers
although warmed by the solo violin. This is a more
severe piece than the first. The two parts of the diptych
were played as bookends to a Sitwell memorial concert
in Aldeburgh Parish Church in 1964. It has to be the
ideal introduction to Williamson - after which try
the Third Piano Concerto (
Lyrita).
Aquerò can be thought of as Williamson’s ‘St
Bernadette Symphony’. Aquerò (‘that thing’) is the word
used by Bernadette to describe what she saw - the vision
itself. The Fifth Symphony is quite compact yet extends
over five movements. These include a very short scene-establisher: Dawn
over the Pyrenees.
This melts imperceptibly into the second movement, Aquerò. The progress of this music and its 'feel' is sumptuous
with a touch of Messiaen about it though nothing like as
extreme as the organ Symphony or the Vision of Christ Phoenix. This is a softer vision
but ecstatic nonetheless and without the explosive jagged
edges of Messiaen's wildness. The simplicity of the first
movement returns for the finale - Bernadette Prays. Its
introduction echoes the beguiling innocence of Basque folk
music. A luminous and lyrical overlay develops, at times
recalling the visionary tumult of Silvestrov's Fifth Symphony.
The short
Lento
for Strings is a direct speaking and touching piece.
It is completely accessible to any classically-inclined
listener. This would make an ideal contribution to any
Classic FM programme - and this is not intended disparagingly.
We hear a peaceful benediction with just a tinge of Grainger's
sentimentality.
Lewis Foreman
provides the lucid and compulsively readable notes and
helpfully places and fixes the sequence of Williamson's
symphonies. For further detail on Williamson try Paul Conway’s
fine article.
Rob Barnett