One Hundred Years of British Song - Volume 1
Gustav HOLST (1874-1934)
A Vigil of Pentecost (1914) [2:48]
The Ballad of Hunting Knowe (1920's?) [1:54]
Five Songs from Twelve Humbert Wolfe Songs (1929) [16:01]
Rebecca CLARKE (1886-1979)
June Twilight (1925) [2:51]
The Seal Man (1922) [5:58]
A Dream (1926) [2:04]
Eight O'Clock (1927) [2:10]
Ivor GURNEY (1890-1937)
Down by the Salley Gardens (1921) [2:54]
Snow (Pre-War) [2:36]
Lights Out (1919) [4:11]
Sleep (1912) [3:25]
Frank BRIDGE (1879-1941)
Four Songs (1925) [18:56]
James Gilchrist (tenor)
Nathan Williamson (piano)
Texts included
rec. 2-3 January 2020, The Menuhin Hall, Stoke d'Abernon, UK
SOMM SOMMCD 0621 [63:37]
This is the first instalment in a projected three-volume series. Note that the title mentions ‘British’ rather than ‘English’ song. If this first volume is anything to go by, James Gilchrist and Nathan Williamson intend to explore some of the less familiar areas of this repertoire.
In his excellent booklet essay Nathan Williamson reminds us that Holst wrote no less than 98 songs. Yet these remain a little-known part of his output; perhaps their cause is not helped by the fact that many have not been published. A Vigil of Pentecost is fascinating because, as Williamson points out, the piano part, delicately rendered here, is surely a sketch for ‘Venus’ from The Planets. The song opens in mystery, expands into a strong proclamation and then the postlude recedes into the ‘Venus’-like mystery again. The Ballad of Hunting Knowe is very different and nowhere near as individual as A Vigil of Pentecost. However, James Gilchrist tells the story vividly and Williamson’s light-fingered pianism is admirable.
Gilchrist and Williamson have selected five of the Twelve Humbert Wolfe Songs. I found myself drawn particularly to ‘The Dream-City’; the music has a fragile beauty and its pastel tones suit James Gilchrist very well. I’m afraid, though, that I simply don’t “get” Wolfe’s poem ‘The Floral Bandit’, and therefore Holst’s musical response to it rather eludes me. In ‘Betelgeuse’ Wolfe is concerned with the second-brightest star in the constellation of Orion. Fittingly, the music is slow and mysterious. It’s a strange, elusive song in which the piano part, rendered here with exquisite touch by Nathan Williamson, seems to plough its own very independent furrow.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I know little of the music of Rebecca Clarke – too little, on the evidence of the four songs in this programme. The first two, June Twilight and The Seal Man, set words by John Masefield. In the former, the poet depicts, in Nathan Williamson’s words, a “hazy summer scene”. This is mainly languid music, though Clarke’s response to the last couplet is appropriately impassioned. I admired both song and performance. The second Masefield offering is a setting not of a poem but of a short passage of prose. Here, James Gilchrist’s narrative capabilities are put to excellent use; he relates the story compellingly while Williamson touches in the piano part expertly. This is an intriguing and, I think, important song and it deserves to be much better known than I suspect is currently the case. A performance of this calibre will surely advance its cause. A Dream sets words by W. B. Yeats and I think Clarke’s response to the text is very imaginative. Finally, we hear a Housman setting, Eight O’Clock. This is a dark poem; indeed, it’s one of the starkest Housman poems that I know. Clarke’s setting gets an arresting performance here.
We’re on much more familiar territory with the songs of Ivor Gurney. Down by the Salley Gardens is a lovely creation, simple in design and suffused with gentle melancholy Here, it receives a super performance. Snow is an early setting of lines by Edward Thomas. This is a deeply sad song. The setting needs the sort of control that James Gilchrist brings to the long vocal lines. For Lights Out, a post-War song, Gurney turned once again to the poetry of Edward Thomas. This is a setting of profound depth and melancholy. In this performance both singing and pianism are of the highest order. Sleep, a setting of lines by John Fletcher, is, quite simply, one of the truly great English songs. Gilchrist and Williamson give a memorable performance. Williamson places everything in the piano part perfectly and I love the gentle depth of tone that he produces in the bass line. Gurney’s heart-stopping vocal line is a gift for Gilchrist and he brings a particular depth of feeling to the repeated last line, ‘O let my joys have some abiding’.
Three of Frank Bridge’s Four Songs are settings of poems by Rabindranath Tagore. The first of these, ‘Day after day’, has an introspective, plaintive vocal line to which Gilchrist’s timbre is well suited. The searching harmonies in the piano part are expertly placed by Williamson. At first in ‘Speak to me, my love!’ Bridge’s music is hushed and gently romantic but then after the line ‘Only the trees will whisper in the dark’ the tone of the song blossoms into impassioned ardour before a hushed, contented piano postlude. These artists really rise to the challenge of this song. In the last Tagore setting, ‘Dweller in my deathless dreams’, James Gilchrist gives full voice to the intense longing and rapture of both words and music. The last song is ‘Journey’s End’, which sets a poem by Humbert Wolfe. Of course, we encountered Wolfe’s poetry earlier in the programme but I have to say that Frank Bridge’s response to this poet is in a different league to Holst’s. Nathan Williamson describes Bridge’s song as “a simple lullaby”, drawing attention to the lilting rhythm that pervades much of the song. To me, though, it’s an extremely unquiet lullaby. Wolfe’s poem is unsettling and Bridge responds to it with troubled music. I’m sure Williamson is right on the money in suggesting that Bridge “addressed this song to the generation of shattered individuals, Gurney among them, who returned from the Western Front”. The poem sits somewhat uneasily, I think, beside the Tagore poems but once again Bridge’s response to his chosen poem is intense and challenging.
If I’m honest, the Holst songs, while worth hearing, don’t seem to me to be buried treasure. However, the songs by Rebecca Clarke certainly belong in that category and I’m delighted that they were included here – and that they’ve benefitted from such splendid advocacy. Ivor Gurney’s songs always justify their inclusion in a recital of British song and four gems have been included here. The Frank Bridge settings are, as I said, intense and challenging; they are also very rewarding.
The standard of singing and pianism is exemplary throughout this recital and James Gilchrist and Nathan Williamson engage wonderfully with the songs, communicating them vividly. They have been expertly recorded by Paul Arden-Taylor. Nathan Williamson’s advocacy for the repertoire extends beyond the piano keyboard to excellent and thought-provoking notes.
This is an auspicious launch for this mini-series of song recitals; I await the other two instalments eagerly.
John Quinn
Previous review: Nick Barnard
