Ralph VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958)
Symphony No 3 ‘A Pastoral Symphony’ (1921) [36:56]
Symphony No 4 in F minor (1934) [31:46]
Andrew Staples (tenor); Rhys Owens (natural trumpet)
Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra/Andrew Manze
rec. 5-7 May, 2016, Liverpool Philharmonic Hall
ONYX 4161 [68:49]
Last year I enjoyed very much the first instalment of Andrew
Manze’s Merseyside cycle of the Vaughan Williams symphonies, a disc
that coupled the ‘London’ and Eighth symphonies (review).
Here now is volume two in the series.
I can imagine that for many devotees of Vaughan Williams a point of significant
interest will lie in Andrew Manze’s decision to use a solo tenor in
the finale of the ‘Pastoral’. To the best of my knowledge it’s
unprecedented in a recording and, indeed, I’ve only heard this option
used once before in a live concert. That was in 2014 when Manze conducted
the work in a very moving BBC Prom (review).
Though it’s most unusual to encounter a tenor in this work it is a fully
authorised alternative to the more usual soprano. The Catalogue of VW’s works
specifically states in the scoring for the work “soprano or tenor voice”.
Furthermore, VW also sanctioned the use of a clarinet in the absence of a
singer and I understand that the clarinettist Frederick Thurston played the
cantilena not only in rehearsals prior to the first performance but also in
the second performances of the symphony. That was given at the Royal College
of Music on 17 February 1922 by the New Queen’s Hall Orchestra conducted by
Sir Adrian Boult. I’m grateful to John Francis of Albion Records for giving me
this information about the Catalogue. Though I think
that the clarinet, no matter how well played, would be a poor substitute for
the voice, a tenor provides a most interesting alternative.
The title ‘Pastoral’ conjures up images of bucolic idylls. However,
while there is considerable beauty in the score and an abundance of modal
harmonies there are many dark undercurrents in Vaughan Williams’ Third
Symphony. In his valuable notes Lewis Foreman quotes a 1938 letter from VW
to his future wife, Ursula in which the composer explicitly states “It
is really wartime music…” Early on in the first movement, for
example, there is a brief passage (3:14-3:23) which contains some extraordinarily
subtle and ambiguous harmonic shifts. This is typical of the harmonic undercurrents
that ebb and flow beneath even the most innocent modal surfaces in this score.
Andrew Manze lets the music of the first movement flow in a very persuasive
manner and he obtains playing of great sensitivity and finesse from the RLPO.
Among my comparisons were two recordings also made in the northwest of England:
by Vernon Handley and Sir Mark Elder. Handley’s recording was made in
1991, also with the RLPO and in the same hall (review).
The Elder is a much more recent version, set down in September 2013 in Hallé
St Peter’s, Ancoats, Manchester (review).
I had remembered that Andrew Keener, the producer of this Andrew Manze disc,
had also produced the Handley version. However, it was not until I took the
Elder disc down from the shelves that I realised that Keener had acted in
the same capacity for that recording also. I noticed that Manze’s timing
for the first movement is longer than either of his two colleagues, especially
Handley, but I should say that at no time did I feel the music was hanging
fire in his hands. As for the quality of the respective recordings –
all of which are good – I have the impression, perhaps wrongly, that
the Handley sounds fractionally more distant than the Manze; the Elder recording,
possibly made in a smaller hall, sounds a bit more present than the two Liverpool
versions.
The RLPO’s principal horn contributes a lovely solo at the start of
the second movement and a little later the solo cellist also impresses. One
of the most striking features of the movement – indeed of the whole
symphony – is the haunting section featuring a solo trumpet (4:01-5:13).
This was inspired by VW frequently hearing, while he was on wartime service
in France, a lone bugler practicing in the early morning. Here Rhys Owens
plays on a natural trumpet and surely gets just the effect that the composer
wanted. His playing is beautifully distanced in the recorking. Michael Kennedy
has spoken of the stillness of the music in this passage and commented that
“surely this is dusk turned into notes”. That’s what’s
achieved here. Alan Stringer is similarly evocative on the Handley recording
– I bet Andrew Keener arranged for him to play from the same spot as
Rhys Owens. Elder’s unnamed trumpeter also does very well, as does the
trumpeter on André Previn’s beautiful account of the symphony with the
LSO (review)
– how odd that RCA credit nine other LSO soloists in the booklet but
omit the trumpeter. I rather suspect, however, that all the other trumpeters
use conventional modern trumpets – certainly their instruments sound
brighter in tone than Owens’ instrument. Equally successful in this
Manze performance is the melancholic passage (7:22-8:10) where the solo horn
revisits the trumpet threnody but this time with the addition of a pensive
clarinet counter-melody.
The scherzo is the only quick movement in the work; here are mixed galumphing
brass passages and material that sounds like a folk-dance. The movement comes
off well, especially the closing section (from 4:48) where the RLPO’s
strings and woodwind display considerable delicacy in delivering the gossamer-light
ending. And so to the finale which opens with the unaccustomed sound of a
male voice intoning the wordless cantilena over a soft drum roll. The effect
is haunting – Andrew Staples sings very atmospherically. I wondered
how I would react to the gender change but I’m completely won over.
Given that he was, apparently, content with either a male or female voice
I’m unsure exactly what VW meant to suggest here and when the voice
returns at the very end of the symphony. For me, the use of a gently plangent
tenor voice produces definite battlefield connotations which are as explicit
as the echo of the bugle in the second movement. As an ambulance man VW must
have carried from the field of battle countless young men who were broken
in mind or body – or both – and corpses, too. Do we not hear in
this music the lament of a soldier sounding across the years? The elegiac
poignancy continues when the orchestra takes over from the singer. At 4:13
the music becomes more agitated and eventually achieves a climax during which
the violins revisit the cantilena. All this is done more eloquently by Manze
and the RLPO. The close, with the tenor singing gently over sustained high
violins, is most affecting. Michael Kennedy has written that in this symphony
“the emotions of war are recollected in tranquillity free from complacency.”
Manze reinforces that verdict, and not just in the finale.
Among the rival versions, Handley’s soprano (Alison Barlow) is excellent
and, like Andrew Staples, her voice is heard at a similarly evocative distance:
I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Andrew Keener reprised his experience
of the Handley recording this time round. Previn has Heather Harper who has
a fuller voice than Miss Barlow but is no less fine. The Previn version, it
should be said, is among his very best Vaughan Williams recordings; the LSO’s
playing is radiant. Sadly, Elder’s otherwise excellent recording is
somewhat compromised by the singing of Sarah Fox. I suspect she was recorded
more closely than the other singers I’ve mentioned but even so her delivery
is too full-voiced and, frankly, too loud: the cantilena is devoid of magic.
Andrew Manze faces stiff competition from the three versions I’ve discussed
– to say nothing of others such as Boult – but I think that both
as a performance and recording his reading comes out of the comparisons very
well.
There’s a huge contrast between the ‘Pastoral’ and the Fourth
Symphony: in the latter all the dissonance that was subtly kept in the undergrowth
during the ‘Pastoral’ is now blatantly on view. It was once thought
that in this symphony VW was looking forward to the dangers of a Second Word
War but, as Lewis Foreman points out, the composer disavowed any such meaning.
When I first encountered the work I thought it was an exciting but angry score.
I still think it’s exciting but I’m now less sure about the anger.
The grinding dissonances at the start of the work are strongly projected here
and throughout the first movement the powerful passages, of which there are
many, come off very well. There are several less choleric sections, however,
and Manze gives them full value too. There’s a good deal of angularity
in the slow movement and Manze ensures that this is accurately portrayed,
especially as the music grows in power. This is taut, intense music - even
in those stretches where the dynamics are soft Vaughan Williams doesn’t
relax the tension. Perhaps, though, he does when we reach the lovely short
flute solo (8:44); here it seems that the skies lighten a little. This is
a very fine performance of the movement.
Jagged rhythms and huge energy characterise the scherzo and the RLPO are well
up for the challenge. Is this demonic writing or bluff humour? Initially I
thought the former but over the years I’ve come to think the music wears
a rather more friendly countenance. The trio, with its ‘oompah’
brass figures, rather tilts the balance in favour of a benign view of the
music. After the scherzo’s return the transition to the finale has echoes
of the similar passage in Beethoven’s Fifth. In this performance of
the finale I think Andrew Manze brings out the boisterous side of the music.
It’s a real tour de force for the orchestra with precious few
moments of respite but the RLPO seem to revel in the challenges, especially
the brass. There is a break in the tumult in the shape of a soft meditative
passage for the strings (2:27-4:03). That’s sensitively done. After
that the music erupts again and from here until the end the performance has
great dynamism – the brass are terrific from about 7:30 to the end.
The grinding dissonances with which the symphony opened reappear at the very
end before Vaughan Williams ends with the musical equivalent of a defiant
slam.
This is a very fine performance of the Fourth. It was interesting to revert
to Vernon Handley’s 1991 performance, which coincidentally was coupled
on its original release with the ‘Pastoral’ (review).
My goodness, Mike Hatch’s engineering and Tod’s conducting conspire
to produce results that are still vivid more than 25 years later. Handley
is very fine indeed in the first two movements, both of which are gripping
in his hands, and his scherzo has real bite and vigour. It’s in the
finale where, to my ears at least, his approach differs significantly from
Manze’s. Handley’s performance is superb but I think it’s
weightier and more dramatic than Manze’s and less inclined to high spirits.
I’m not suggesting that one is “right” and the other “wrong”;
I find the contrast interesting and stimulating. I noticed also that in the
reflective string passage Handley moves the music on a bit more than Manze.
The RLPO of 1991 were in just as fine fettle as their present day successors.
Both performances have many merits and whilst warmly welcoming the newcomer
I’m definitely not minded to discard Handley.
With excellent sound and valuable notes to complement the fine performances
this second instalment of Andrew Manze’s Vaughan Williams cycle lives
up to the promise of volume 1. If the succeeding discs prove to be as good
in due course then this will be a notable series.
John
Quinn
|
Support us financially by purchasing
this from
|
|
 |
 |
 |
|