I must put my cards on the table. I believe that
Eugene Goossens is one of the best of the large group of largely
ignored British composers: there is virtually nothing in his
catalogue that I have heard and not liked. Recordings and performances
of his works are relatively few and far between. However, there
have been sufficient releases on vinyl, cassette and CD over
the years to be able to form an appreciation of his exciting
corpus of music.
I first came to Goossens by way of the delightful
collection of piano pieces called Kaleidoscope. It was
played to me ‘live’ by a friend who had counted the composer
as a friend. It was a number of years before I discovered the
First
Symphony recorded by Vernon Handley and the West Australian
Symphony Orchestra. Fortunately, ABC Classics issued a three-CD
retrospective of Goossens’ orchestral music in 2005 with
Handley conducting. It is this release that allowed me, and
I guess a huge number of other listeners to get to know this
fine music. Two major works were missing – the Phantasy Concertos:
one each for violin and for piano. Fortunately Chandos have
here remedied the deficiency in the case of the 1942 Phantasy
Piano Concerto.
The Phantasy Concerto for piano was written
for the Spanish pianist José Iturbi. It was given its first
performance in Cincinnati on 25 February 1944 and was later
broadcast by the BBC in November of the same year. It received
its first London public performance at the 1949 Promenade Concerts.
I guess that it has remained unheard since that time.
It is not necessary to give an analysis of this
work here as the sleeve-notes provide virtually all the information
it is possible to write. However two things are worth quoting
– firstly the composer’s own description of the concerto: “The
work, particularly the slow movement was influenced by my re-reading
at that time Edgar Allan Poe’s The Devil in the Belfry,
and might be said to reflect something of the fantastic and
sinister character of that story, though in no way being a literal
description of it.” It is, perhaps, pertinent to this description
that the Second World War was in its final year when this work
was first heard. Although this Phantasy is in no way
a ‘war concerto’, the ‘sinister’ mood certainly pervades much,
but certainly not all, of this Concerto. There are a number
of positive passages that maybe look beyond VJ day to a time
when hope is the prevailing emotion.
Secondly I want to quote The Times review of
the first London performance. After noting that it could only
be at a Proms Concert that it is possible to hear a full concert
of Sibelius’s music followed by two sizeable modern works: in
this case Goossens’s Phantasy and his Sinfonietta,
the reviewer writes that this music “may be seen as a child
of his time, of yesterday perhaps rather than today, but still
in touch with contemporary idiom and contemporary taste.” He
continues, by suggesting that the concerto is “like Sunday’s
child, blithe and bonny and gay even if [it is] not good all
the time”. But perhaps his final comment is the most pertinent
and saves today’s reviewer from searching for a succinct description
of this work. He suggests that this work may be “classed as
a volume of musical autobiography: there is a lustrous veneer
of nineteen-twentyish gallicism that masks, but not for long,
the essential anglicism of, say, Delius and Bax,
a light coating of fun à la Gershwin and even a good soupçon
of good honest Australian frankness.”
Goossens’ archetypes are usually stated to be
Gustav Holst and Arthur Bliss, however I sometimes think that
this is disingenuous. The reality is that his Phantasy
‘ain’t like no-one.’ However, it would be fair to say that there
are contemporary American influences as well as a lush ‘film-like’
romanticism that is never allowed to overwhelm the music. If
I was to suggest an influence it would be actually be Cyril
Scott.
Interestingly, Goossens was in his mid-forties
before he deigned to compose a Symphony. He wrote that “Perhaps
it was that in my 25-year career as a conductor I had encountered
a surfeit of immature pomposities labelled symphonies from the
pens of youthful composers with a message.” Furthermore he felt
little urge to “project my sparse ideas through the medium of
a form which for successful manipulation calls for a cunning
hand and artistic maturity.” Even a superficial hearing of this
work must surely impress the listener. It is clear that the
composer has not fallen into the trap he had feared. He has
created a canvas that is both well-written and fundamentally
moving. It is a great work.
However contemporary reviewers, although impressed,
were a little disappointed that Goossens had not pushed at the
boundaries of modernism. It was perceived as lacking a sense
of adventure and an individual voice. Goossens wrote to his
parents that “They [reviewers] would have liked me to have written
something ultra-modern and full of modern clichés which would
have enabled them to write that I was writing music which didn’t
come naturally to me.”
The most damning criticism was from The Times
reviewer. He suggested that “the Symphony, like his previous
music, is a matter of skill rather than imagination.”
As a listener approaching this great work after
a period of some 65 years it is relatively easy to put aside
stylistic prejudice. We now no longer feel it necessary to condemn
a work because it is not deemed to belong to a particular school
or to follow an expected compositional process or stylistic
milieu.
This Symphony is a stunning work. I have always
- since I first heard it - regarded it as one of the great essays
of twentieth century symphonic literature. It is debatable as
to whether it is to be regarded as a ‘war’ symphony as the composer
seemingly eschewed any particular programme. However the variety
in this work suggests the whole range of emotions – from hope
to despair – which would have been the prevailing moods at the
time of composition.
It is easy to suggest influences and allusions
in this work – perhaps Bax can be invoked as lying behind some
of the more moody passages. Rob Barnett has suggested that the
“dank and willowy world” of Frank Bridge can be heard. And echoes
of Vaughan Williams can be noted at various points in the score’s
development. Yet the dynamics of this work, the outworking of
the formal design and the colourful orchestration are all Goossens’
own endeavour. It is unfair to suggest that his Symphony is
in any way a parody or a pastiche of any other work.
At times it is beautiful, occasionally humorous,
often disturbing. But at all times this First Symphony holds
our interest and impresses our musical understanding.
The programme notes are amongst the best I have
ever seen for a CD. This is to be expected from Lewis Foreman.
However, we are fortunate in having a great deal of commentary
and analysis from Eugene Goossens himself. Foreman has given
generous quotations from these sources and has provided what
is effectively a model sleeve-note for this release.
This is the last major recording to come from
the baton of Richard Hickox – and is typically superb. Also,
hats off to Howard Shelley for mastering the intricacies of
the Phantasy Concerto: it certainly sounds a considerable
challenge.
One is left wondering if this recording was part
of a planned Chandos cycle of Goossens’ music. It is a project
that may now no longer come to fruition. However we must be
thankful for the Vernon
Handley recordings although I am not convinced that these
are readily available.
John France
And another perspective by Rob Barnett:-
This wonderful disc would, but for Hickox’s death
last year, have been the first of an intended Chandos-Goossens-Hickox
series. It delivers the first commercial recording of the Phantasy
Piano Concerto and the fourth of the Symphony.
The First Symphony’s earlier commercial recordings
are as follows:-
1. Sir Eugene Goossens/Sydney Symphony Orchestra
(rec. 1947). ABC Festival FC-30866 (LP) (1962)
2. David Measham/Adelaide Symphony Orchestra.
Unicorn KP8000 (LP) (1980)
3. Vernon Handley/West Australian Symphony Orchestra.
ABC Classics 462–14-2 (1998)
Neither of the LP issues have reappeared on CD
and the ABC LP is a very great rarity. This is a pity as the
historical value of the distressed 1947 recording is high. The
Measham is in good sound and would be well worth rescuing from
obscurity perhaps as part of a multi-CD reissue of Myer Fredman’s
LP recording of Goossens’ epic cantata The Apocalypse which
appeared from ABC Classics (L70225/6) in the twilight of the
analogue era – circa 1980.
Goossens’ First Symphony is to his Second Symphony
what Bax’s Northern Ballad No. 1 is to the Second Northern Ballad.
The First is dramatic-romantic. The Second is pungently atmospheric-tragic.
I like Handley’s version of the Symphony very
much but Hickox finds a quicker pulse overall and I found myself
warming to it the more I heard it. His recording is also superior
being in the best luxurious Chandos house style. Hickox still
finds time to make the sultry melody in the first movement sing
out – even if it sounds suspiciously like a fragment of that
Tony Bennett ballad, I left my heart in San Francisco.
The Goossens came first. The second movement is grand and swoony:
a slow boiling miasma complete with Goossens’ accustomed harmonic
ambivalence. When it comes to the boil another of the composer-conductor’s
podium enthusiasms came to mind: Scriabin. The capering malign
spirits of the finale have their counterparts in Suk’s Asrael
and Vaughan Williams’ Fourth. The grand Baxian peroration
is very effective. The last time I heard it other than on disc
was in a spirited studio broadcast on 15 December 1990 by the
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra conducted by Jerzy Maksymiuk.
Well worth your listening effort.
The Goossens’ Phantasy Concerto for piano
and orchestra is a rara avis indeed. There have been
no previous recordings. There was a BBC Radio 3 broadcast on
10 June 1988 when Eric Parkin was the pioneering revivalist
with Bryden Thomson conducting the then BBC Welsh Symphony Orchestra.
Howard Shelley gave the Australian premiere with Hickox and
the Melbourne orchestra on 19 April 2008.
The Phantasy Concerto has the wayward
fantastic-picaresque character of the Cyril
Scott First
Piano Concerto. It also radiates the flamboyance and subtlety
of the John Ireland Piano
Concerto and Legend. Edgar Allan Poe was the inspiration
– a man whose tales and poems proved a luxurious source for
a contemporary of Goossens, Joseph Holbrooke (1872-1958). The
Goossens work is a rich confection though the ideas do not have
a strong melodic profile. Even so a number of episodes stand
out: heroic flourishes, a dripping lapidary and crystalline
imagery, a broad Hollywood-style melody but refracted in the
manner of Bridge’s
Phantasm,
a glistening tapestry of sound in the manner of Klimt and Iberian
coruscation complete with castanets.
As ever the disc is resplendently documented
by Lewis Foreman.
Now let’s hope that Chandos will find a new champion
for Goossens who will be commissioned to tackle the 1948 Phantasy
Violin Concerto. This was premiered by Tessa Robbins in London
with the BBC Symphony Orchestra on 7 September 1960 and then
sank from sight. There are also two operas: a biblical story
Judith against recorded on LP by ABC and a grand opera
Don Juan de Mañara. Now they would need some serious
sponsorship.
Rob Barnett
Howard Shelley (piano)
CHANDOS
CHSA 5068 [64:40] 
