My previous reviews of Alwyn's five symphonies, on Lyrita 
                  SRCD.227 
                  and SRCD.228, 
                  praised the composer's building of movements from short, 
                  "symphonic" motifs. I also welcomed his reliance on 
                  the logic of musical events, rather than traditional sonata 
                  and rondo forms, to generate structural coherence and his knack 
                  for diversely coloured orchestral textures. All of this is equally 
                  evident in this collection of shorter pieces, yet the overall 
                  effect is less positive.
                   
                  One problem is that the techniques just described, while effective 
                  in developing symphonic-length arguments, are less useful in 
                  occasional pieces and such. These want more readily intelligible 
                  structures and, preferably, attractive themes. The Magic 
                  Island prelude begins promisingly. The dark atmosphere 
                  at the start reminds us of Alwyn's success as a film 
                  composer; woodwind solos and lyrical string fragments gradually 
                  open up the textures, generating some surge as they expand. 
                  The passage beginning with the chromatic violin solo beginning 
                  at 4:37 has an unexpectedly Scriabinesque feel. The individual 
                  episodes are colorful and listenable, but the ultimate effect 
                  is aimless, as if the composer had arbitrarily strung together 
                  bits of unused film music.
                   
                  The Sinfonietta for string orchestra, a "serious" 
                  score, ought to have played to Alwyn's strengths, and 
                  for two of its three movements, it does. The trenchant parallel 
                  chords that open the piece become a recurring motif; as in The 
                  Magic Island, lyrical violin fragments float over them. 
                  The chordal harmonies at the start of the central Adagio 
                  e poco rubato sound filled-out, yet the absence of the 
                  basses leaves a tentative, searching impression; Scriabin again 
                  crops up in some of the violin solos. The finale has a nice 
                  energy and drive - the players dig into the climax at 7:34 with 
                  full-throated passion - but sticks on the contrasting secondary 
                  material: when the presumably sympathetic annotator, Richard 
                  D. C. Noble, refers to a passage as "the stagnant section," 
                  you're in trouble.
                   
                  In the other scores, I'm afraid the composer's 
                  conducting is the problem. As I indicated in those earlier reviews, 
                  Alwyn is excellent at establishing mood and a sense of direction, 
                  but his baton technique seems not up to enforcing ensemble in 
                  agitated or rhythmically tricky passages, nor can he always 
                  keep the rhythms airborne. In the symphonies, these flaws proved 
                  a minor distraction from the overall design; here they're 
                  harder to ignore.
                   
                  Thus, what should be the bounding energy of the Derby Day 
                  overture is compromised by nervous ensemble in the tuttis, 
                  so it sounds anxious, even grim; the arrival at 4:00 is exciting, 
                  but clearly not together. In four of the original set of six 
                  Elizabethan Dances, there's some pointed rhythms 
                  and lovely, translucent colorings -- I particularly liked the 
                  way the various textural elements of the Moderato remain 
                  discretely defined -- but the dances tend to lose impetus as 
                  they proceed. The first movement of the Sinfonietta 
                  suffers some uneasy transitions and runny playing, while the 
                  fugue in its finale betrays insecurity. The grandeur of the 
                  Festival March occasionally turns lead-footed, and 
                  ensemble briefly founders in the last big statement, which I'd 
                  have thought foolproof.
                   
                  Once again, Lyrita offers no session details; publication dates 
                  are 1975 for the Sinfonietta, 1979 for Derby Day, 1985 
                  for the march, and 1972 for the other items. I'm glad 
                  to have this vividly recorded program - I just wish it were 
                  better.
                
                 Stephen Francis Vasta
                  Stephen Francis Vasta is a New York-based conductor, coach, 
                  and journalist.
                See 
                  also review by Colin Clarke