Charles Villiers STANFORD (1852-1924)
Piano Concerto no. 2, Op. 126 [37:08]
Dante Rhapsodies, Op. 92 [27:50]
Six Characteristic Pieces, Op.132 – nos. 2 “Study” & 4 “Roundel” [6:18]
Five Caprices, Op. 136 – no. 5 “Tempo di Valse” [5:18]
Benjamin Frith (Piano)
BBC National Orchestra of Wales, Andrew Gourlay (cond.)
rec. 1 May 2012, Hoddinott Hall, Cardiff (Concerto), 26-27 January 2012, Music Room, Champs Hill, Sussex, UK (solo works)
CHAMPS HILL RECORDS CHRCD042 [73:35]
Commentaries on Stanford’s orchestral music usually
suggest a stylistic link with Brahms. But you would have to look long and
hard to identify Brahms as a significant influence in the second of Stanford’s
three piano concertos, which received its British première 100 years ago this
year. The most obvious influence is that of Rachmaninov, and in particular
his second Piano Concerto, which makes its presence felt at the very start,
with great surging waves of music underpinned by turbulent cascades from the
piano. Stanford conducted the British première of the Rachmaninov in 1910
shortly before he started work on this Concerto, and while there is none of
the passion or emotional turmoil of Rachmaninov in Stanford’s writing,
neither is it in any way tight-lipped or reserved; Stanford was, after all,
a fiery Irishman at heart. With none of the personal insecurities which affected
Rachmaninov, this is a muscular and self-assured work which quickly shakes
off any sense of the derivative (although there is a moment in the first movement
– around 2’10” - where we cannot but recall the Grieg Concerto)
and asserts its own distinct independence with a musical language which will
be readily identifiable to any of those who know Stanford’s symphonies.
Commentaries on Stanford’s orchestral music often suggest puzzlement
that it is not better known. And if that is justified in the case of the symphonies
and rhapsodies, which made such an impact when they first appeared on Chandos
in the late 1980s, it is especially so with this concerto; a work which is
of such impressive musical quality, masterly crafted for the orchestra, beautifully
written and full of wonderfully distinctive melodic and harmonic ideas. Yet
it persistently fails to catch the public attention, despite the fact that
this is, by my reckoning, its fifth outing on CD. I would not suggest that
it is the best (I think that accolade deserves to go to Finghin Collins and
the RTE Symphony Orchestra under Kenneth Montgomery on Claves) but there is
enough here to attract the attention of those not already convinced as to
the worth of this significant British piano concerto of the last century.
For a start Benjamin Frith is clearly totally committed to this work, and
his solo playing is, if anything, even more persuasive than Collins. He appreciates
the fact that this is more a dialogue than a combative concerto and tempers
his occasional opportunities for virtuoso display with a real sense of integration
with the orchestra. His work as a chamber musician – Frith is the pianist
with the outstanding Gould Trio – seems to inform his whole approach
allowing the inner detail of the music to shine through when others might
be more inclined to dominate (there is a classic example of this after 8’30”
in the finale where glittering piano figures are kept well down to allow the
orchestra its head).
What reservations I have rest with the orchestra itself which, assured and
polished as the BBC NOW invariably is, fails really to lift itself to meet
the vision which Frith so eloquently presents. Andrew Gourlay manages the
orchestra with a firm hand, but it is solidly workmanlike rather than inspired,
and at times one wishes he would give them more freedom to assert themselves,
not least in a slow movement which seems too often stifled and tightly regulated;
there is more emotional scope here than Gourlay seems to appreciate.
Stanford’s church music is widely known and admired, his chamber music
and songs have a firm foothold in the repertoire, and his orchestral music
has certainly made something of an impact on CD (if not in the concert hall),
but his piano music remains largely unknown. Frith fills the remainder of
this CD with an interesting cross-section of Stanford’s solo piano works,
from the decidedly Lisztian Dante Rhapsodies to the faintly innocuous
Tempo di Valse from a set of Caprices dating from 1913.
Again, one recognises Frith’s total conviction that this is music which
has been unjustly neglected, and his are compelling and utterly persuasive
performances mixing a towering musical intellect with beautifully tailored
technique; particularly in the first of the Dante Rhapsodies, subtitled
“Francesca”. The spirit of Schumann is strongly evoked in the
second (“Beatrice”), while that composer is celebrated more directly
in the fourth of the Six Characteristic Pieces, “Roundel”,
which carries the dedication to Schumann on the centenary of his birth, and
is a highly effective pastiche of one of the Kinderszenen.
Yet while it is fun to identify influences in this music, Stanford is too
good and distinctive a composer merely to be seen as a conglomeration of 19th
century influences, and this music has a distinction and uniqueness which
once again prompts the question, why is it not better known? This CD with
its superbly committed performances from Benjamin Frith certainly deserves
to win converts.
Marc Rochester
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