Of all the major compositions of William Alwyn, I have personally 
                  found the Violin Concerto the least satisfying. There are three 
                  reasons for this. Firstly, it is a long work lasting nearly 
                  forty minutes, yet there is a seeming imbalance between movements 
                  – the first being as long as the second and third combined. 
                  Secondly, I believe that the ‘finale’ is less effective than 
                  the preceding movements and never quite fulfils their challenge. 
                  Finally, I guess that there could be a suggestion that the ‘cinema’ 
                  is never too far away from this music: it is a criticism - if 
                  it is a criticism rather than an observation - that has also 
                  been made of the slightly later First Symphony (review). 
                  
                  
                  The opening ‘allegro’ is truly massive - and involves a considerable 
                  diversity of musical material – some of it absolutely ravishing. 
                  A great deal of this movement is reflective and, rather unusually, 
                  it ends quietly. The middle ‘allegretto e semplice’ is really 
                  a ‘song without words’ complete with a ‘haunting Irish-tinged 
                  theme’. The final allegro is an ‘alla marcia’ which is full 
                  of energy and exploits the soloist’s technique to the full. 
                  
                  
                  The history of this Concerto is unfortunate. The composer never 
                  heard a full performance of it. He had to ‘make-do’ with a private 
                  concert on 3 March 1940 where a violin and piano reduction was 
                  used. Frederick Grinke, the Canadian-born violinist was accompanied 
                  by the composer. Henry Wood had been keen to perform this work 
                  during the 1943 Promenade Concert series; however after three 
                  days consideration, the ‘powers that be’ at the BBC rejected 
                  this proposal. The work was put away and was largely forgotten 
                  until the 1993 Chandos recording with Lydia Mordkovitch (CHAN9187). 
                  
                  
                  Having raised my ‘concerns’ about this concerto, I have to confess 
                  that there is much beautiful, attractive and ultimately satisfying 
                  music in its pages. Coupled with this, the committed and often 
                  moving performance given by Lorraine McAslan makes this an impressive 
                  offering that rises above any suggestions of stylistic imbalance. 
                  It is a work that, in spite of any perceived faults, is lyrical, 
                  full of ideas, has well-considered writing for the soloist and 
                  a general sense of musical competence. Certainly much of this 
                  work is romantic with the composer often wearing his heart on 
                  his sleeve. It has even been compared to Elgar’s great Concerto! 
                  It is a work that could grow on me. 
                  
                  I can still remember listening to William Alwyn’s Miss Julie 
                  on the Radio 3 which was broadcast on 16 July 1977. I am less 
                  sure what I thought about the work – although I do recall that 
                  some of the music appealed to me. I guess that the plot somehow 
                  passed me by: opera has never been my strong point. I even recorded 
                  the broadcast on my old cassette recorder and I still have the 
                  tapes! However, I have never listened to it since: the Lyrita 
                  release on CD somehow never ‘appeared’ in my collection. 
                    Miss Julie was composed between 1973 and 1976 
                  and is based on a play by the Swedish author and playwright 
                  August Strindberg. Andrew Knowles gives an excellent précis 
                  of the opera, which deserves quotation: it concerns ‘the spoilt, 
                  rich daughter of a Count who falls under the spell of the manservant 
                  Jean. The latter plays with Miss Julie’s affections and seduces 
                  her, then rejects her and finally tempts her into suicide as 
                  the only way of escape from her shame.’ Just the sort of happy 
                  tale to cheer oneself up: no wonder I prefer Gilbert and Sullivan! 
                  
                  
                  In 2000 Philip Lane was charged to adapt suitable sections of 
                  the opera into an orchestral suite: it was commissioned by the 
                  composer’s widow, Mary. 
                  
                  I guess the only raison-d’être of a ‘suite’ derived from an 
                  opera is to condense the ‘good bits’ into a manageable chunk 
                  that can be presented in the concert-hall. Other operas have 
                  had this treatment, such as Bizet’s Carmen, Tippett’s 
                  Midsummer Marriage and Britten’s Death in Venice. 
                  Personally, I am ambivalent about the ‘form’: part of me says 
                  if one wants the music from the opera, then listen to the whole 
                  production. On the other hand, it is good to have a concise 
                  exploration of some excellent music without the burden of the 
                  singing and the plot. 
                  
                  And that is what this Suite provides the listener with – some 
                  very impressive and often very romantic music that can be listened 
                  to ‘absolutely’. 
                  
                  I have always enjoyed the Fanfare for a Joyful Occasion 
                  since first hearing it on the Chandos release back in 1993 with 
                  Richard Hickox and the London Symphony Orchestra. The work was 
                  dedicated to the well-respected percussion player Jimmy Blades. 
                  Mary Alwyn has written that her husband often consulted Blades 
                  ‘on the complexity of writing for these instruments in the modern 
                  symphony orchestra.’ 
                  
                  It is hardly surprising that the Fanfare employs a battery 
                  of percussion including the marimba, the vibraphone and the 
                  glockenspiel. The work has been described as ‘flashy’; I hope 
                  not in a derogatory sense. This is extrovert music that is extremely 
                  rhythmic. The liner-notes omit to point out that this piece 
                  also requires four horns, three trumpets, three trombones and 
                  a tuba as well as three percussion players. 
                  
                  It opens with a brilliant ‘fanfare section’ that may 
                  recall Walton and his ‘royal’ marches – be they for Henry, Richard, 
                  George or Elizabeth. However the mood soon dies downs and soft 
                  sounds from the ‘tuned’ percussion become almost ‘Arnold-esque’ 
                  in mood. The music develops through a long crescendo with the 
                  brass and percussion combining to produce a loud and perhaps 
                  deafening conclusion. Whether this is a great work or not is 
                  up to the listener to decide: it is certainly impressive, noisy 
                  and interesting. 
                  
                  The sound quality of this Naxos recording is excellent. In my 
                  opinion it does not usurp the Hickox 
                  ‘cycle’ but gives the listener another opportunity to hear 
                  two great works. The Miss Julie Suite is a ‘first recording’ 
                  and well-deserves success. The liner-notes by Andrew Knowles 
                  are comprehensive, helpful and interesting with a detailed analysis 
                  of the concerto and the suite: they also make use of the composer’s 
                  own comments relating to the opera. 
                  
                  When I first bought my vinyl copy (SRCS63) of Alwyn’s Third 
                  Symphony and Magic Island on the Lyrita label (review; 
                  review), 
                  I little imagined that nearly thirty-five years later virtually 
                  everything that the composer wrote would be available on disc 
                  (Naxos). 
                  Even less conceivable would have been the thought of two or 
                  three recordings of some of these masterworks. I think that 
                  I am now only waiting on the Manchester Suite dating 
                  from 1947. [I am also hoping for a recording of Alwyn’s 1930s 
                  epic ‘oratorio’ The Marriage of Heaven and Hell to words 
                  by Blake – a very expensive proposition. Ed.]. 
                  
                  Finally, in spite of a large catalogue of recordings, it seems 
                  a pity that William Alwyn’s orchestral music attracts so little 
                  attention on the concert platform. I understand that the Violin 
                  Concerto has yet to have a professional public concert performance, 
                  in spite of there being two recorded versions. Perhaps this 
                  will change one day, although the 2011 ‘Proms’ programme suggests 
                  that the BBC have not changed in their attitude towards the 
                  composer. 
                  
                  John France 
                Reviews 
                  of Naxos Alwyn recordings
                Alwyn discography 
                  and review index