Clarinettist Michael Collins has been working his
way through an excellent survey of British Clarinet repertoire in his series of
discs of Sonatas, and now with a second disc of Clarinet Concertos. Here he is not only soloist but also
conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra in four fascinating but pretty obscure
works seldom performed. He opens the
disc with Movements for a Clarinet Concerto by Benjamin Britten. This began life as an incomplete sketch for
an opening concerto movement that Britten wrote in America with Benny Goodman
in mind. However, on his return to
Britain, his manuscripts were impounded by customs, on suspicion that they
might somehow contain coded information.
Goodman later got cold feet when the US entered the war, and Britten had
moved his attention on to Peter Grimes, so the work was never completed. In 1990, Colin Matthews (b.1946) orchestrated the
sketch, and Collins premiered the resulting movement. Then in 2007, Matthews took a two-piano work
and an orchestral sketch by Britten, and orchestrated both to make a three-movement
concerto, which Collins also premiered.
The result is a remarkably convincing work, with a striking opening
flourish and spiky arpeggios for the clarinet in the first movement, a subtle
and somewhat subdued central 'Elegiac Mazurka', followed by a lively finale, in
which Matthews brings in the opening theme from the first movement to give the
concerto a sense of cohesion. Gerald
Finzi's (1901-1956) Five Bagatelles, Op. 23a were originally for clarinet and
piano, but were arranged for clarinet and string orchestra by Lawrence Ashmore (1928-2013) in 1989 as a companion piece for Finzi's well-known Clarinet Concerto (recorded
by Collins on his first volume of British Concertos). These are characterful, mostly lyrical
pieces, with lots of very English pastoral melodies. Finzi's family had Italian
and German Jewish roots, but he was born in London, and studied under Stanford.
The Romance is particularly beautiful and breathes with a wistful idyllic air,
and the final Fughetta is joyful and carefree.
Arnold Cooke (1906-2005) was born in Yorkshire, and studied with Paul
Hindemith, before teaching in Manchester and then at Trinity College of Music
in London until 1978. His Concerto No. 1
contains lots of angular melodies that have a clear link to Hindemith, and the
opening movement is full of spiky contrapuntal writing, the leaps and turns of
which Collins negotiates with ease. The
central slow movement's lyrical melody ends with a repeated blackbird call, and
there is a definite feel of flight and pastoral freedom here. The finale picks
up the pace with a lively dancing clarinet theme supported by varied rhythmic
interest in the orchestral writing. Wales is represented here by the Concerto Op.
68 by William Mathias (1934-1992). The
Concerto is orchestrated for strings and a variety of percussion, which is used
to great effect throughout. The opening
movement's 'Scotch snap' rhythms create a birdlike, pecking feel to the melody,
enhanced with Matthias' use of percussion, with a slower central section
enhanced by an eerie vibraphone. The
slow movement is more introspective, with a mysterious intensity throughout,
ending with a cadenza for the clarinet, which, joined by rototoms, rushes
straight into a somewhat frenzied, jazz-infused finale, giving little breathing
space for the clarinet. This is a disc
packed with variety and interest, and Collins and the BBC Symphony Orchestra
give faultless and enthusiastic performances of these fascinating works, making
this worthy of high recommendation.
Lutenist Alex McCartney follows up his debut album,
which I reviewed in January 2016 with 'Elizabeth's Lutes', a disc of lute music
from the time of Elizabeth I. She was a
keen lute player herself, and also employed many musicians in her court. McCartney has put together a nicely varied
programme, all recorded in a highly resonant acoustic, which actually suits
this music well, adding warmth and depth to the tone. However, he opens the disc with a delightful
piece, Susanne un jour, by the Franco-Flemish composer, Orlande de Lassus
(1532-1594), who has no real connection to Elizabeth. Nevertheless, de Lassus
was world famous and would surely have influenced musicians and composers of
the time, and despite not specifically writing for the lute as far as we know,
this lute arrangement was made by a contemporary in England. There are a number of works here by Daniel
Bacheler (c.1574-c.1610), who was 'Lutenist and Groome of her Majestie's Privie
Chamber'. His Monsieur's Allemande is
the most substantial, with great opportunities for McCartney to demonstrate his
command of the instrument in its variations.
He also plays two of Anthony Holborne's (c.1545-1602) rich Pavanes, and
his touching Last Will and Testament.
Holborne was probably an usher at Elizabeth's court, and was not
employed as a musician, despite composing much lute, cittern and bandora music
in his lifetime. Alfonso Ferrabosco's
(1543-1588) Miserere is a little more ornate, with a delicacy and lightness,
which McCartney brings out well here.
John Dowland's (1563-1626) career in England suffered from his early
conversion to Catholicism, and he spent some time employed as a lutenist in
Denmark, only finally being employed by the English court after Elizabeth's
death. His Fancy included here begins quite starkly but soon gathers pace,
building in virtuosity. William Byrd's
(c.1540-1623) keyboard Pavane Bray was arranged by Francis Cutting (c.1550-c.1596),
and McCartney manages its contrapuntal lines evenly. This is a highly enjoyable
disc, warmly recorded and expertly performed throughout.
Edward Gardner is on the third volume of Leoš
Janáček’s (1854-1928) orchestral works with the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra,
and the main work here is one of his finest non-operatic works, the wonderful
Glagolitic Mass. Glagolitic refers to
the script, an early version of Cyrillic, in which the Old Church Slavonic Mass
was originally written. This is an
incredibly challenging choral work, and here Gardner has massed together four
choirs, the Bergen Philharmonic Choir being enhanced by the Choir of Collegiûm Mûsicûm, the Edvard Grieg Kor and the Bergen Cathedral Choir. They opt for the
revised edition, which includes changes made by Janáček during rehearsals for
its premiere. There are arguments for
both – were those changes due to inadequacies of the Brno premiere forces, or
were they changes that Janáček really wanted in the light of hearing the work
being performed? The upshot is that the
earlier version has more raw edges, but also a more ‘dangerous’ energy. However, the revised version is more often
performed, and here it receives a highly energetic and incisive
performance. The choral forces are
solid, with clear diction and well-blended tone, particularly impressive in the
wildly joyful Svet (Sanctus). The solo
line-up is also strong, particularly soprano Sara Jakubiak and tenor StuartSkelton. Thomas Trotter’s wild organ solo is incredibly powerful, followed by a
gloriously brassy Intrada to close the work. This is a strong performance, with
great depth of recorded sound from Chandos.
I miss hearing the Intrada at the opening as well as at the end – but of
course on CD, that’s easily rectified. The
disc also contains a moody Adagio, more overtly romantic than his later works,
but nonetheless enjoyable. Zdrávas Maria
(Hail Mary) is for Soprano, chorus, violin and organ, and it receives a touchingly
sensitive reading here from Sara Jakubiak and two of the choirs. The final work is a setting of The Lord’s
Prayer, Otče Náš, again for chorus and organ, but now with Tenor solo and
harp. Stuart Skelton and the choral
forces give a passionate reading of this attractive setting. However, none of the additional works can
compete with the drama of the Glagolitic Mass and the powerful performance it
receives here.
