Benjamin BRITTEN (1913-1976)
Sinfonia da Requiem, Op 20 [22:03]
Violin Concerto, Op 15 [31:56]
The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, Op 34 [19:21]
Ralph Holmes (violin)
BBC Symphony Orchestra (Sinfonia), Hallé Orchestra/Sir John Barbirolli
rec. live 8 August 1967, Royal Albert Hall, London (Sinfonia); 30 April 1969, Royal Festival Hall, London (Concerto); 20 July 1967, Milton Hall, Manchester (Guide). ADD Mono
BARBIROLLI SOCIETY SJB1104 [73:44]
This invaluable release from the Barbirolli Society gathers together three live recordings of music by Britten in performances led by Sir John. The anthology is especially important because it includes performances from late in his career of two major Britten scores which he premiered during his time in New York: the Sinfonia da Requiem and the Violin Concerto. The Violin Concerto is particularly welcome because it has never been published before.
Writing in 1997, Michael Kennedy, friend and biographer of Barbirolli, said that the conductor’s “championship of Britten’s music when both were wartime exiles in the United States has received little but churlish acknowledgement from the keepers of the flame in Aldeburgh”. He went on to praise JB’s “brave and generous gesture” in premiering both the concerto and Sinfonia da Requiem. Robert Matthew-Walker points out in his notes accompanying this Barbirolli Society release that both Koussevitzky and Eugene Goossens had declined to programme the concerto before it was proposed to Barbirolli. In fact, not only did Barbirolli premiere the concerto, he also conducted its first recording in 1948 and Michael Kennedy’s remarks, quoted above, come from the notes accompanying the first release of that recording; amazingly, the recording wasn’t released until 1997 (review)
Barbirolli give the first performance of Britten’s Violin Concerto with the New York Philharmonic on 28 March 1940; the soloist was the Spaniard, Antonio Brosa. Brosa’s role in the genesis of the concerto was an important one: he had been a friend of Britten for some years before Britten started work on the concerto and he had played music by Britten in concert. During his work on the concerto Britten sought Brosa’s advice on aspects of the solo part. Barbirolli’s 1948 recording, on which the soloist was Theo Olof, used the original version of the score – indeed, I suspect it’s the only recording ever made of that version. In 1950 and again in 1958 Britten revised the score, simplifying aspects of the solo part; it’s the 1958 final version that is played here.
Barbirolli’s soloist is Ralph Holmes (1937-1984) and this performance is a major addition to the fairly slender discography of a fine artist who died tragically young. The concerto makes significant technical demands on the soloist – even after Britten had “simplified” the solo part – but it also requires huge emotional commitment: Antonio Brosa was convinced that the work was Britten’s direct response to the Spanish Civil War. The first two movements come off very well indeed; Barbirolli reminds us what a splendid accompanist he was while Holmes gives an assured and committed account of the fiendish solo part – he’s masterful in the challenging cadenza at the end of the second movement (tr 5, from 5:24). The essence of the concerto lies, however, in the concluding Passacaglia which occupies nearly half of the full length of the work. Here, any vestigial thoughts that the concerto is a traditional virtuoso display piece are well and truly laid to rest. This movement contains music of searing intensity. Holmes and Barbirolli do not disappoint; both bring out the extraordinary emotional turbulence in the music. The long, subdued and sorrowful coda (tr 6, from 10:10) is especially affecting. Just before the applause breaks out you can hear Barbirolli say “bravo” to his soloist. It’s very good news indeed that this previously unpublished recording is now available.
Almost a year to the day after giving the world premiere of the Violin Concerto, Barbirolli led the New York Philharmonic in the first performance of Sinfonia da Requiem on 30 March, 1941. They performed it again the following day in a concert that was broadcast. A recording of that performance survives and it was issued on CD some years ago (review). The New York performance is, of course, an invaluable historical document and the sound is not at all bad, especially when one considers that the recording is now 80 years old. However, it’s great that we have, on this CD, in much better sound a Barbirolli-led performance of a work that clearly meant a lot to him.
In a note accompanying the NMC disc Colin Matthews relates that some months after the premiere Britten wrote to Koussevitzky, complaining that JB’s tempi for the outer movements were too slow, although Matthews points out that Barbirolli’s tempo for the first movement was closer to the metronome mark than the speed adopted by Britten himself in his first (1955) recording of the piece. I can see what Britten meant. In both the 1941 premiere and this 1967 recording Barbirolli takes a pretty measured view of the first movement, ‘Lacrymosa’. That said, he thereby achieves a darkly ominous opening and, as the movement unfolds, his build-up to the movement’s main climax is very intense, while the climax in question is grimly dramatic.
Barbirolli drives the second movement, ’Dies irae’ furiously. Perhaps understandably, the BBC Symphony Orchestra seems more comfortable with this jagged, demanding music than the NYPO were on being confronted with it for the first time in 1941. In this movement there is one important – and beneficial – difference between the 1941 and 1967 performances. As the movement dies away the tempo slows in preparation for the slow third movement. In the premiere Barbirolli rather slammed the brakes on (at 4:09) but in the 1967 performance he slows more gradually (from 4:23) and as a result the passage, and the transition to the ‘Requiem aeternam’ is much more successfully managed. I’m sure that’s the fruit of greater experience of a score which, in 1941, was completely new to him. His core speed for the final movement is slightly quicker than the pace he adopted in 1941 and the music is the better for it. Initially, the music is tranquil on the surface but JB ensures that the dark undercurrents are not neglected. The climax (tr. 3, 4:05) is ardent and then Barbirolli achieves a calm, accepting ending. Unfortunately, as is so often their wont, the Promenaders are quick to show their appreciation.
Barbirolli continued to perform Sinfonia da Requiem. Indeed, according to the performance list in Raymond Holden’s valuable book Barbirolli. A Chronicle of a Career (review) he led 31 performances in all during his career. That made it, by some distance, the most frequently performed Britten work in his repertoire, followed by The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra (16 performances) and the Violin Concerto (12 performances).
The disc concludes with a performance of The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra. The venue, Milton Hall, Manchester, and the fact that this is the only one of the three performances that is not followed by applause leads me to suspect that this may have been a studio performance for the BBC. With one caveat, I enjoyed this account of Britten’s highly skilled and inventive variations. The caveat relates to pacing which is often a bit on the steady side. The Theme itself is delivered in a way that is quite stately, for example. The Alla polacca variation for the violins surely needs to be more dashing and the trombones’ Allegro pomposo variant is, well, just a fraction too ‘pomposo’. Against that, I like – but was not surprised by – the degree of expression that Barbirolli brings to the viola and cello variations. The concluding fugue is full of vitality, though as the orchestral texture builds in fulness and volume the recording starts to become a bit congested. Overall, though, there’s a good deal to enjoy in Barbirolli’s performance. I was mildly surprised to learn from Raymond Holden’s aforementioned book that JB performed the Variations “only” 16 times; you would have thought that this would have been the ideal vehicle for a display of the virtuosity of his beloved Hallé – and a popular choice for his audiences.
These BBC mono recordings have come up very well in Ian Jones’ remastering and they serve as a very welcome reminder of Barbirolli’s efforts on behalf of Britten. Robert Matthew-Walker’s booklet essay is sympathetic and well-informed.
John Quinn
