The Naxos series of Roy Harris Symphonies has proved to be one
                of their more stuttering projects, certainly in terms of the
                discs’ appearance in the catalogue and the personnel involved.
                The 
original
                release dated from the time Naxos were recording in the Ukraine
                and featured the 7
th and 9
th Symphonies
                in 2002. The 
next
                disc appeared in 2006 from the Colorado Symphony Orchestra
                in the safe hands of Marin Alsop and contained his two most famous
                Symphonies - the 3
rd and 4
th. So, after
                another four year pause arrives volume three - also with Alsop
                but this time featuring her Bournemouth orchestra. Given that
                he wrote thirteen numbered symphonies which Naxos has promised
                to record, it is to be hoped that the current rate of two per
                four years will increase! 
                
                Intellectually even more than musically Harris is strikingly
                individual. He grew up far away from the hub of American music
                on the East Coast and was largely self-taught until, on the advice
                of Aaron Copland, he became one of so many American composers
                to make the pilgrimage to Paris to attend masterclasses from
                Nadia Boulanger. However, unlike many of his fellow students
                he rejected much of the neo-classical aesthetic she propounded
                and, pardon the pun given his farming heritage, ploughed his
                own furrow. On returning to the States his 
Symphony 1933 (in
                effect his first) became the first indigenous American symphony
                to be commercially recorded. His breakthrough work was his 
Symphony
                No.3 of 1938 and it remains his best known work by some distance.
                Certainly it is the work by which most collectors will know him.
                Apart from the 
4th Symphony the
                other symphonies - and indeed any of his work - have been much
                more sporadically recorded. Currently, there is another slowly
                evolving Symphony cycle on Albany but how complete that intends
                to be I do not know. 
                
                Harris is one of those artists I find very hard to place in the
                pantheon of composers. Sometimes I find his music to be powerfully
                uplifting and emotionally involving and at other times opaque
                and dull. My instinct, and this really is born out of listening
                to the music and reading the brief biographical details, is that
                all too often he tries to impose rather grand extra-musical ideas
                on his work that he does not have the technique to pull off.
                To my mind the Third Symphony ‘works’ so well because
                it is pure music and concentrated into a compressed single movement
                form. Also, it is very clear that Harris was a man of considerable
                political ideals. He headed up several cultural delegations to
                the Soviet Union and was an admirer (as so many were at that
                time) of the perceived pure ideal of a socialist state. My guess
                is that he sought to copy the concept of the proletariat artist
                producing music for the masses. This also links in with another
                neat concept. Harris shared his birthday with Abraham Lincoln
                and given that Lincoln features specifically in two of Harris’s
                Symphonies (6 and 10) is it too much of a intuitive leap to suppose
                that he took the president’s words from the Gettysburg
                address which enshrines his socialist view that “all men
                are created equal” to write “[music] of the people,
                for the people, by the people”? He also wrote a work for
                mezzo-soprano and piano trio 
Abraham Lincoln walks at midnight (
also
                recorded by Naxos). 
                
                So to the music presented here. Given the presence of a picture
                of President Lincoln on the disc’s cover and the placing
                of the 
6th Symphony “Gettysburg” first
                it is clear that this is the key work on the disc. This is not
                a war symphony. Although the battle of Gettysburg in 1863 was
                a turning point in the American Civil War, Harris’ focus
                is on the famous address President Lincoln made when visiting
                the battlefield some four months later. In one of the briefest
                yet most famous speeches ever made in America, Lincoln coined
                the phrase that still resonates in democratic countries to this
                day; “that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth
                of freedom - and that government: of the people, by the people,
                for the people, shall not perish from the earth”. Written
                in 1944 Harris heads each of the four movements of his symphony
                with a title; in order 
Awakening,
 Conflict, 
Dedication,
                and 
Affirmation. Curiously not one of those words appears
                in the speech itself. So what we have is a distillation of the
                varying moods of Lincoln’s speech overlaid onto a standard
                four movement symphonic form. It’s a big idea, and one
                that Harris brings off to powerful effect. To my mind there is
                a potential danger in giving such bald titles to a movement.
                The composer is committing himself to a kind of cinematic representation,
                so 
‘Awakening’ (you would suppose) roughly
                moves from darkness to light - it does; 
‘Conflict’ is,
                well, aggressive and dramatic - it is - and so on. In performance
                a lot will depend therefore on the players being able to engage
                in a somewhat technicolour way with the intended emotional goal.
                Marin Alsop and her excellent Bournemouth orchestra give it a
                good shot but I am not wholly convinced. This symphony has also
                been released as part of the above-mentioned Albany cycle played
                by the Pacific Symphony Orchestra under Keith Clark (originally
                released but differently coupled on Varèse Sarabande -
                VCD 47245 and now on Albany TROY064) and I find that performance
                to be significantly more successful than Alsop. Timings are remarkably
                similar except in the last movement where Clark shaves a whole
                minute off Alsop’s 7:03. The differences are in two key
                areas; the engineering and the spirit of the performance. Engineer/producer
                Tim Handley - who has been responsible for many excellent recordings
                for Naxos - seems to have produced an acoustic which feels more
                cavernous than others I have heard from the same venue. This
                has two main effects - the lower frequencies are very noticeable
                and upper detail is less distinct. At the very opening of the
                symphony this has a striking effect on the emotional landscape
                of the work. The Bournemouth bass drum and timps give a funereal
                feel against which the shaft of light from the piano, vibraphone
                and harp struggle to impact. The Clark recording imbues the opening
                with a hushed expectation with the high chords brightly etched.
                The solo strings in Bournemouth are quite forward in the mix
                and rather literal in their approach. The Pacific Symphony Orchestra
                players, much further back in the orchestral group are given
                a wraith-like quality that works surprisingly well. Likewise
                as the movement progresses Harris does not change the basic pulse;
                instead he increases the number of notes per pulse played. The
                effect is of an acceleration without accelerating! The Albany/Varèse
                recording allows the inner detail to register with greater clarity
                than the Naxos disc. The Pacific Symphony Orchestra seems more
                convinced by the work and the movement builds to a (surely intended)
                exultant climax. The Bournemouth playing, while technically beyond
                reproach, never takes wing. Harris is a motivic rather than melodic
                composer; there are not many opportunities for great arching
                melodies to soar over an orchestra. Instead the focus has to
                be on the cumulative power of the expanding and developing motifs
                and to my ears this is achieved more fully by Clark than Alsop.
                As a movement 
Conflict is more problematic and probably
                the least satisfying section of the work to my ears. It does
                not seem to be representing either an inner or outer conflict.
                This is exactly the kind of movement that needs one of Shostakovich’s
                viscerally exciting nightmare scherzos. Harris opts for piercing
                brass over a string drone which builds to the various orchestral
                groups throwing fanfare-like figures at each other. In Bournemouth
                the bass drum again rather dominates. Curiously, there are moments
                very similar to Malcolm Arnold when the horns obsessively repeat
                an upward whooping figure. Again, the forward momentum is built
                by the same basic pulse being divided into ever smaller parts.
                Clark and his engineers are much more successful at illuminating
                detail. Most noteworthy is the extraordinarily abrupt end to
                the movement. Although the final two movements are separate they
                fulfil a single emotional span. Building from the rubble at the
                end of 
Conflict, 
Dedication builds slowly and sparely.
                A solo violin reappears much as in the first movement but the
                effect here of its falling phrase is that of a benediction. This
                movement is more lightly scored and indeed for much of the time
                the strings alone carry the burden of the musical argument. In
                its simple unwinding groping upwards this movement pre-echoes
                the minimalist writing of Arvo Pärt certainly during the
                first 3 - 4 minutes. The wind and brass appear after some five
                and a half minutes and continue to support the music as it becomes
                increasingly hymn-like and impassioned. The finale 
Affirmation continues
                in much the same vein although it uses one of the older compositional
                devices Harris prefers - fugue. This is fugal writing very much
                on his own terms but it does gives him the opportunity to demonstrate
                one of his other preferred techniques - that where the germinal
                seed-like motifs grow and expand as the work progresses. The
                entwining brass lines (again better defined by Clark than Alsop)
                take on a positive heroic tone interrupted by a curious bass
                drum and cymbals “oom-pah” figure. There is as much
                conflicting writing here as there was in the symphony’s
                second movement but this is the chaos of an excited crowd with
                material overlapping and interrupting in joyful abandon. It makes
                for a powerful ending to an impressive piece. 
                
                The other main work here is the 
Symphony No.5 which was
                composed when the outcome of World War II was much more in the
                balance in the Autumn of 1942. It has no title as such but instead
                bears the rather unwieldy dedication to; “the heroic and
                freedom-loving people of our great ally, the Union of Soviet
                Republics”. This resulted in the February 1943 premiere
                being simultaneously broadcast to the USSR. Never afraid to take
                on big ideas, this time I feel Harris is less successful than
                in the 
Gettysburg Symphony. The work has been recorded
                before - by the Louisville orchestra under Jorge Mester (see 
First
                Edition review but before that on Albany AR012) but this
                is my first encounter with the work. Each of the three movements
                is given a plain number (all movements are created equal perhaps?)
                Again motivic development is the central compositional plank
                on which the works rests. In the case of the symphony’s
                first movement it is based on a rhythmic cell the same as the
                three note figure that dominates the opening movement of Beethoven’s 
Symphony
                No.7. This Harris alternates with a militaristic marching
                motif. Whereas elsewhere this technique builds to a satisfying
                climax here there is a sense that after a suitable amount of ‘working
                out’ the movement finishes in an almost arbitrary way.
                Movement II is another funeral cortege, this time replete with
                tolling bells and muffled drums. Perhaps I’m just thinking
                about the dedication but it feels a little hollowly rhetorical
                and square-jawed. It strikes me as the least original of the
                symphonic movements on this disc and the one that could most
                easily be fitted to a film. Movement III again comprises fragmentary
                motifs thrown against and chasing each other. Again I feel the
                resonant character of the recording works against multi-lined
                and layered character of the work. The rhythm of the first movement
                reappears and with the brass leads to another bold but abrupt
                conclusion. 
                
                In the past I have found that Harris’s work has grown on
                me considerably with repeated listenings. I’m loath to
                be too hard on the 
Symphony No.5 for the simple reason
                I do not know the work well yet. As ever, how marvellous that
                we can take advantage of such assured and authoritative performances
                at such a low price. One rather glaring error in David Truslove’s
                liner note that is repeated on the CD’s cover however.
                He notes that the disc’s filler -
Acceleration -
                from 1941 is reworked as the slow movement of the 
Symphony
                No.6. It’s not; it is the 
Symphony No.5. Truslove
                also omits to mention William Schuman in his pantheon of American
                Symphonic composers which is surprising since Schuman and Harris
                are most often linked. I would have to say I find Schuman the
                greater, more consistent composer, and certainly the one whose
                symphonies show a more cogent and logical progression both individually
                and collectively. But that being said I will look forward to
                further releases in this cycle. 
                
                
Nick Barnard