I first came across Ronald Stevenson at the Glasgow Proms in 1972.
The work in question was his Second Piano Concerto. It was at this time that
I first heard about the legendary ‘Passacaglia on DSCH’. A
resistance to very long works or maybe even a lack of enthusiasm for
Shostakovich means that I have not - until now - got around to hearing this
massive piece. There is no excuse: better late than never.
Ronald Stevenson is undoubtedly best-known for this Passacaglia -
even by those who have not listened to it. However, Stevenson has
contributed a huge quantity of music in a wide variety of genres. There are
four concertos - two for piano, one for cello and one for violin. There are
many vocal settings of Scottish and English poets including his friend Hugh
MacDiarmid. As I understand it, there is no symphony (unless one includes
the early
Berceuse Symphonique or the very late
Ben Dorain)
and as yet no opera. The largest element of Stevenson’s catalogue
comprises works for piano solo. At the last count, there are over 500
pieces/works/movements: these cover a wide range of forms, styles, emotions
and durations. Especially prominent are his transcriptions of other
composer’s music. Furthermore, listeners must not forget that
Stevenson is a considerable pianist. His performance style is in the
romantic tradition of Ferruccio Busoni, Percy Grainger, Ignaz Paderewski and
Leopold Godowsky.
I decided to pencil in 85½ minutes on Monday 2 December 2013
to listen to this work from end to end with only a short break to change
CDs. I was, to use a Northern expression, ‘gobsmacked’. I guess
it was the sheer scale of this music that impressed me. My mind did not
wander too much and I was able to follow the ‘working out’ of
each part and the various sub-divisions given in the track listings.
Nevertheless, I do wish that I had borrowed the piano score from the
library.
I do not feel that I can analyse this piece in detail, however, five
things are worth noting. Firstly, the work was begun in 1960 and was
completed in 1962. It was given its first performance by the composer in
Cape Town, South Africa in 1963. It was established in the United Kingdom by
John Ogdon at the 1965 Aldeburgh Festival.
Secondly, the total structure is presented in three massive
‘parts’. These are subdivided into a number of sections
suggesting a wide variety of moods and utilising many styles. For example,
in the ‘Pars Prima’ there is a Sonata Allegro, followed by a
Waltz in rondo form and concluding with a Nocturne. Included in this massive
canvas is a complete ‘suite’ containing a ‘Prelude,
Sarabande, Jig, Sarabande, Minuet, another Jig, a Gavotte and a
Polonaise’. The sixth subsection of Pars Prima is a Pibroch (Lament
for the Children). In other sections of the Passacaglia there are allusions
and references to African drumming, a Spanish Fandango and Bach. These
diverse movements and subdivisions continue towards the conclusion of
‘Pars Tertia’ which is itself a set of variations on a theme
within the DSCH variations themselves.
Thirdly, the entire work is based on Shostakovich’s name - the
first letter ‘D’ from the fore-name and SCH from the first three
letters of the surname presented in German notation. It was a conceit used
by Shostakovich himself in a number of works. This motif forms the theme of
the ‘passacaglia’ and is apparently never varied - except by
transformation.
Fourthly, the composer calls for what has been termed a
‘thesaurus’ of pianistic devices. This ranges from a simple
melodic line for one hand to massive chords played with the fist, and from
the use of harmonics to glissandi performed inside the piano. It is
technically difficult music that is demanding for the pianist, but also for
the listener.
Finally, in such a long, colossal work as this, there is bound to be
some unevenness of invention and sometimes a lack of substance. This seems
to count for little: it is the overall impression that matters. In Hegelian
terms, it is the synthesis that is the important element in this work, not
the various theses and antitheses. I, like many other listeners, was
surprised by how ‘quickly’ the time passed whilst listening to
this work and also how the total impression is one of triumph. It is not a
work that I can turn to regularly, but it is a piece that shall long remain
in my memory.
One of Ronald Stevenson’s ‘signatures’ is musical
reference to other composers. Whether this is the ‘Prelude, Fugue
& Fantasy on Busoni’s
Faust’, the
‘Fugue
on a Fragment of Chopin’ or the ‘Peter Grimes Fantasy’,
Stevenson is always prepared to ‘salute’ the achievement of
others. This is carried over into the vast number of transcriptions,
paraphrases and arrangements that he has made of classical music, Scottish
and other folk material.
Two works that here epitomise this celebration of other composers
are the ‘Fugue, Variations and Epilogue on a Theme of Arnold
Bax’ and the ‘Variations on a theme of Pizzetti’.
The ‘Bax’ was completed in 2003 but parts of it had been
sketched out in the early 1980s. The ‘theme’ used is the
principal subject of the slow movement of Bax’s Second Symphony. The
work is dedicated ‘For Colin Scott-Sutherland, premier Bax
biographer’. It is hard to know whether he is using the word
‘premier’ as in ‘first’ or as
‘foremost’. If the former, I agree, if the latter, it is unfair
on Lewis Foreman’s magisterial study of Bax. Both books are
complementary and are not in competition. The ‘Fugue, Variations and
Epilogue’ was conceived as ‘crystallising’ the
composer’s ‘lifelong devotion to a Celtic aesthetic’.
The question that I asked myself was, ‘Is this a pastiche of
Bax’s music’? In other words, if I had not known this work was
by Ronald Stevenson, would I have thought, ‘Ah! this is an
undiscovered piece by Bax.’ If I am honest, the ‘jury is
out’ on that. The ‘theme’ - which is not heard until the
epilogue - notwithstanding, there are moments when the elder
composer’s ‘Celtic Twilight’; is to the fore, and there
are other times when Bax seems to be ‘over the hills and far
away’. Other colourings enter this music including John Field, Charles
Alkan and sometimes a kind of Bath-ian
Cornish Rhapsody soundscape. I
enjoyed this piece, much of which is very beautiful and always absorbing,
but I will have to work harder to understand the ‘aesthetic’
references to Arnold Bax.
I am at a disadvantage with the ‘Variations on a theme of
Pizzetti’ as I know virtually nothing from his pen. This work dates
from 1955 and was composed during Stevenson’s time spent in Florence
and Rome on an Italian government scholarship. Malcolm MacDonald explains
that the theme is taken from a ‘Sarabande’ included in
Ildebrando Pizzetti’s incidental music to D’Annunzio’s
drama
La Pisanella which was composed in 1913. Apparently, the
original piece had a positive conclusion: Stevenson’s has an
‘altogether darker trajectory’. It is not my favourite piece on
this CD, however I accept that it is full of interest and has some delicious
moments.
The ‘Promenade Pastorale’ is a delightful miniature. It
was composed during Christmas 1973 and is subtitled ‘Hommage à
Francis Poulenc et à Graham Johnson’. The latter was a
Rhodesian-born pianist who is noted as an accompanist to the
Frenchman’s songs and many other composers’ works. This music is
happy, and largely untroubled, with occasional musical references to
farmyard noises. Elisabeth Lutyens would have been delighted.
I enjoyed the ‘early’
Waltzes dating from
1949/1950. These are a collection of subtle miniatures, which could be
likened in concept, if not sound, to Schubert’s
ländler.
The liner-notes suggest that rather than try to explore these pieces as
individual numbers they are best regarded as a ‘single-movement dance
poem’. These tunes are wayward, often fun, mainly tongue-in-cheek and
downright enjoyable. Hat-tips are made to just about everyone in the
‘waltz world’ including Ravel, Strauss (J) and Chopin. These
Waltzes are quite definitely a serious-minded composer ‘letting his
hair down’ and they are none the worse for that. It’s probably a
good gateway to Stevenson’s heterogeneous style for those who are a
wee bit phased with DSCH.
The ‘Nocturne after John Field’ was composed in 1952.
The name was later changed to
Nocturne (Homage to John Field) to make
clear that this is ‘original’ music by Stevenson and not a
transcription, arrangement or pastiche. Malcolm MacDonald amusingly says
that the piece sounds as if one of Field’s Nocturnes had been
rewritten by Alkan and Busoni. There are moments when Field’s own
pianism dominates and other times when this tonality is almost destroyed. It
is an attractive, romantic and at times withdrawn work that is both
compelling and often beautiful.
Malcolm MacDonald points out that Ronald Stevenson has not (yet)
composed a formal piano sonata; there are two Sonatas (after Ysaÿe)
written in 1981/2 but these are transcriptions or elaborations. There are
three Sonatinas all composed in the 1940s. This is not the forum to argue
what a ‘sonatina’ actually is. All that can be said is that the
musical language of the Sonatina No. 2 is more profound and angular than
many examples of the genre, with its nods to Hindemith. It is piquant rather
than ‘dissonant’. I imagine that it is the short length of each
of the two movements -‘adagietto’ and ‘allegro’ -
that justifies the title.
James Willshire was born in 1985. Aged fifteen, he was awarded an
Educational Scholarship in the London International Piano Competition, and
thus became the youngest British pianist to be recognised in this manner. In
2008 he gave his debut recital at the Royal Festival Hall. Willshire has
performed at festivals and concert venues around the United Kingdom and
abroad. His concerto repertoire includes Rach 2 and 3, Grieg, Brahms 1 and
Beethoven 4. He regularly features ‘contemporary’ music in his
recitals and has recently issued the complete piano music of the Scottish
composer Rory Boyle (b.1951). He maintains a great interest in musical
education and teaches piano at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. I
recently came across James Willshire in his excellent performance of David
Jennings’ piano works on
Divine Art DDA25100.
All the works on this disc are stunningly played: the technical
difficulties are overcome with boundless skill. Willshire is a tremendous
advocate for Stevenson’s music.
The liner-notes by Malcolm MacDonald are superb, and give all the
information that the listener could require. They are full of technical and
biographical detail, without being overwhelming.
This is an excellent two-CD set that is not quite crammed with
music, but is certainly excellent value. Being greedy, I wondered if they
could have squeezed a couple of smaller numbers onto the second disc. The
quality of the sound is excellent as I have come to expect from Delphian.
I have already admitted to this being the first opportunity that I
have taken to hear the Passacaglia, so I am unable to compare this disc with
John Ogdon’s recording, nor those of Murray Mclachlan (Divine Art
25013, 2004), Raymond Clarke on Marco Polo 223545 (1994) or the
composer’s own rendition currently available on Altarus AIR-CD 9091
(1995). I am sure that someone, somewhere, sometime will make this
evaluation: however that will not be me. Much as I enjoyed this colossal,
overwhelming work that largely defies superlatives, I guess that it will be
a wee while before I make time to hear it again. It does need to be heard in
its entirety at one sitting. The shorter pieces will feature in my
‘listening schedules’ alongside other works in my CD collection
from the pen of Ronald Stevenson.
John France
