These are all premiere recordings and most welcome additions to the Bax
discography. How splendid the orchestral version of In Memoriam sounds;
Vernon Handley and the BBC Philharmonic give a really spine-tingling performance.
Dating from 1916, In Memoriam commemorates Pádraig Pearse,
one of the leaders of the 1916 Dublin uprising, executed soon after the rebellion
was quashed. Bax was clearly greatly moved when writing this music it conveys
all the anguish he felt at learning about all the suffering in his beloved
Ireland and of the veneration he felt for Pearse. Readers of Bax's Farewell,
My Youth may recall how Bax remembered meeting the martyred hero: "Scarcely
had Pearse shaken hands shyly than he sat down by the fire and stared into
the blaze as though absorbed in a private dream but his eyes were lit with
the unwavering flame of the fanatic. Somebody said, 'Pearse wants to die
for Ireland you know.' Indeed he did not have much longer to wait before
his desire was granted. As he was leaving he said to his host, 'I think your
friend Arnold Bax may be one of us. I should like to see more of him.'...I
could not forget the impression that strange death-aspiring dreamer [ Pearse]
made upon me when on Easter Tuesday 1916 I read, by Windermere's shore, of
that wild, scatter-brained but burningly idealist adventure in Dublin the
day before. I murmured to myself, 'I know that Pearse is in this'..." Bax
had fallen deeply in love with all things Irish and the English censor later
declared his verses, written under his pseudonym, Dermot O'Byrne, to be
subversive.
In Memoriam includes the theme that Bax later used for Mr Brownlow
in his score for the film Oliver Twist but here it is treated with
that extra passion and deeper conviction appropriate to Pearse. In
Memoriam is part-elegy, part-funeral march, and partly a furious
remonstration against a cruelly suppressed bid for Irish independence. (Perhaps
Bax, in more reflective and prudent mood, put it aside for it was never heard
and indeed, until recently it was thought that Bax had never orchestrated
it). Marching rhythms with insistent side drum and bugle calls contrast with
music that suggests Irish Elysian Fields fit for heroes. A wonderful musical
experience.
The Concertante for Piano (Left Hand) and Orchestra was written at
Storrington in 1948 for Harriet Cohen who had injured her right hand. Lewis
Foreman, writing in his book, Bax, A Composer and his Times regarded
this work as "watery" and "...[it] is not a successful work, and unfortunately
for Bax's reputation had the misfortune of being widely played for several
years. The critical sneers it received, were by implication, extended to
the rest of his music... Nevertheless, Left Hand Concertante, patently Bax's
worst extended work was widely heard. The first movement is laboured although
there are some attractive ideas. The slow movement is probably the best;
beautiful if limited...But the theme of the finale, a rondo, is tawdry. His
heart was not in the work. He wrote to the Dutch cellist-composer Henri van
Marken during its composition: 'I find it terribly difficult to think of
anything effective for the one hand... Except in the finale, Bax seldom brings
the soloist away from the lower half of the keyboard, and so the left-hand
limitation is thus rather more pronounced than it might have been. Ravel
in his left-hand concerto, which Harriet never played, allowed his soloist
a much wider compass..."
In an interview with Colin Anderson reproduced in this CD's booklet, Vernon
Handley comments: "Margaret [Fingerhut] showed immediately that it's not
directionless - It's very clean and clear. I admire in Bax that he doesn't
mind writing something simple. By terming it 'Concertante' he's saying that
the orchestral role is as important as the soloist's...He's written - better
than Britten (Diversions) and as well as Ravel - something that uses the
left-hand colour and register extremely well. The Concertante occupies a
lighter emotional world but he touches moments of depth as he does in every
work...."
So, the individual listener must decide. For myself, I found the slow movement
to be the most appealing and in the sensitive hands of Fingerhut and Handley,
often beautiful. The opening movement has many Baxian characteristics, including
northern-mythological-type figures but at some points I felt these were
caricatured and I could not dismiss from my mind's eye a picture of North
American Indians that the music seemed to create - maybe it was "oddities"
like these that attracted such derision?. The rhythmically exhilarating final
Rondo is an odd mix of the sturdy and heroic with some grotesque and quirky
figures plus some intriguing Brahmsian influences. Clearly Fingerhut and
Handley have brought out the very best in this oddity amongst Bax's major
works.
The Bard of the Dimbovitza was composed in 1914 and it clearly shows
the influence of the Russian composers that so impressed Bax in his earlier
years, as well as the French impressionists. The Bard of the Dimbovitza
comprises Romanian Folk Verses collected from the peasants by
Héléne Vacaresco and translated by Carmen Sylva (the nom
de plume of Queen Elizabeth of Romania who was probably was more involved
in their composition than she admitted) and Alma Strettel. Published in London
in 1892, they became as popular as Omar Khayyam although they bore
as much direct relevance to Romanian folk-poetry as Fitzgerald's verse had
to Persian verse. Bax eschews any local Romanian colour. Most of the poems
in The Bard of the Dimbovitza are designated as 'Luteplayer songs'
or 'Spinning songs'. The influence of Rimsky-Korsakov and Sheherazade is
immediately apparent in the beginning of the opening "Gypsy Song"; and there
are echoes of Tchaikovsky later ('There where on Sundays...'). It is dreamy,
sultry and sensual with Bax richly evoking lines like: 'The brook ripples
by so clearly there...' The second song, the ghostly and mysterious "The
Well of Tears" again is sumptuous but chilling too as the singer sees spectres
at the bottom of a well full of tears. "Misconception" appears to be about
lovers' embarrassed silences whereas simple confessions of love would have
eased everything and saved the sadness that Bax later implies. This is a
more fragile creation and nearer to the impressionism of Ravel and Debussy.
In the more light-hearted "My Girdle I Hung on a Tree-top Tall", with Bax's
cheeky cuckoo figures, the singer, a clearly head-strong and independent
young woman scorns the attentions of a young man. Here Rigby has to sing
a dialogue between swain and maid. The latter's arrogant scorn is well
represented but the former's masculine ardour could have been more strongly
communicated. The final song, "The daughter" (clearly from Bax's treatment,
a spinning song) is, again, another dialogue piece, this time between a young
girl, poetic, naive and eager for love and her mother disillusioned and laconic.
Rigby, in the main, sings sensitively and expressively with warmth and a
fine sense of the lines of the songs and Handley provides rich, evocative
support. This album is a must for all Bax enthusiasts
Reviewer
Ian Lace
LEWIS FOREMAN WRITES:
When I wrote my book on Bax I had only heard one performance of the Left
Hand Concertante, that given by Douglas Fox at Oxford on a very snowy night
in 1969. Later, between the two editions of my book, I encountered Harriet
Cohen's French Radio performance which, frankly, was no better. In both the
orchestra could not really cope. So it was wonderful to hear it played by
a top line orchestra, with Margaret Fingerhut's crisp yet poetic performance
of the solo part. For me it was a revelation.
When I suggested that its frequent performance during Bax's last years did
his reputation a disservice, I meant that by being represented by an "easy"
and comparatively lightweight piece, the virile, epic, romantic Bax was
forgotten. The same was true when the First, Second and Sixth Symphonies
were little heard, and Bax tended to be represented by numbers Four and Seven.
Lovely works, but lacking the grit of the ones that were then neglected,
before even they fell out of performance altogether. In fact, now hearing
the Concertante so beautifully presented, one becomes aware of the music's
strengths. I must say I do not always care for Bax's late music when he is
using those "Indians coming down the Hudson" rhythms, as early on in the
first movement. But the second subject of the first movement, particularly
at its reprise, is so close to the poetic moments of the earlier epic piano
concerto Winter Legends, exploring that work's most magical vein in
two wonderful passages, that we realise that Bax is not entirely divorced
from his pre-war romanticism. Then the slow movement, which on its own is
revealed as a lovely encore, well able to replace the delightful "Morning
Song" on any recorded music programmes. While the whole work is not on the
scale, emotional or musical, of the Symphonic Variations or Winter
Legends, nor is it a work on which a great reputation could solely rest,
it is nevertheless a worthwhile one, and I hope it will may be taken up again
from time to time.
Mentioning Winter Legends, it is interesting that this programme includes
three works where Bax alludes to himself in all three; looking back to
Winter Legends in the Left Hand Concertante and to Into the
Twilight in the second song of The Bard of the Dimbovitza; while
in In Memoriam he looks forward to the exultant climactic moment of
the slow movement of the Second Symphony, in a remarkable thematic link which
must set thinking all who have wondered at the tragic Second Symphony's
motivation. I find that all such resonances and allusions add to the enjoyment
and understanding of this remarkable composer. While I cannot review this
record as I devised the programme and, on behalf of the Sir Arnold Bax Trust,
promoted the performance and recording, I must say that to my mind it has
turned out remarkably well and illuminates so many aspects of Bax's life
and music; while each piece is one that one will surely return to again and
again on this CD. A truly heartfelt "thank you" is due to the artists involved
for making such a success of the scheme.
Jean Rigby
(soprano); Margaret Fingerhut (piano) BBC Philharmonic conducted by Vernon
Handley 
