A Thumbnail Sketch of
the Music of William Blezard
Part 2 (The Piano Works)
In a recent article I gave a brief
overview of William Blezard’s life.
Included in that discussion was a review
of the composer’s orchestral music that
is generally available on CD.
All these works were packaged with
a number of other pieces by a wide variety
of British composers. We are lucky,
then, to have two CDs dedicated to Blezard’s
piano music. The first was published
in 1998 and the second has just been
released (2005). Both recordings were
made with the full support of the composer
and are issued by Priory CDs and Shellwood
Productions respectively.
I wish to give a brief chronological
description and discussion of these
piano works to act as a kind of expanded
‘programme’ notes.
At the conclusion of the article I
give a few comments on William Blezard’s
piano music taken as a whole.
Eric Parkin, the pianist on both of
the CDs is a well known champion of
English music. One need only think of
his three disc set of the complete piano
music of John Ireland or his exploration
of the multi-faceted works by Billy
Mayerl. Other recording projects have
included music by the undervalued William
Baines, by Arnold Bax and George Dyson.
I have reviewed his performance of some
piano works by Richard Stoker on this
web page.
Blezard wrote in a preface to the first
disc the following comments:-
"Apart from an early performance
by me of the 1947 Piano Sonata
at the Ben Uri Galleries [London Jewish
Museum of Art, St John’s Wood] and a
much later one of the Second Book
of Preludes as the Music Information
Centre, my piano music has gone largely
unheard by the public. This is the first
time any of it has been recorded.
|
William Blezard’s Piano Works – as available
on the two CDs
|
|
Chronological List |
|
|
Two Aspects of Tango Rhythm – Spanish Tango
& Tango in d |
1931/1938 |
|
Two Fantastic Dances |
1938 |
|
Variations on a Sea Shanty |
1939/40 |
|
Three European Dances – Polka, Sarabande
& Tarantella |
1942/1940/1944 |
|
October Dance |
1960 |
|
Scherzino |
c1960s |
|
First Sonatina |
c1967 |
|
Five Preludes – Book 1 |
1967/-/1968 |
|
Three Dance Studies |
1966/-/1969 |
|
Circle of Time |
1975 |
|
Fast Forward |
1979 |
|
Second Sonatina |
1970s |
|
Third Sonatina |
1994 |
|
On Reflection |
c1997 |
|
A Miscellany of Miniatures |
2000 |
|
Two Promenades for Eric Parkin |
2001 |
|
Three More Jeux d’Esprit |
2000/-/2002 |
| Fantasy
on a well known Tune Dedicated to Neil Galanter |
2000 |
| |
|
|
Undated |
|
|
Sorority Samba |
|
|
Central Park West |
|
|
Jonathan Scherzo |
c1983 |
|
Three Jeux d’Esprit |
|
The Nineteen Thirties
Do not expect too much profundity from
the earliest two works that are available
to listeners. The Two Aspects of
Tango Rhythm was written over a
number of years between 1931 and 1938.
The composer would have been 11 years
old when the first notes of the Spanish
Tango (1931) were put onto the manuscript
paper. It would be easy to try to read
too much into those early effort – but
suffice to say that it is a somewhat
wistful little number that is perhaps
a shade better than much music that
was written for the gifted amateur at
this time. There is a reflective quality
that is quite unusual for a school boy.
The second work, the Tango in D
is a much more subtle piece. Imagine
if you will, John Ireland in Buenos
Aires and you have some idea of the
sound world of this piece. The harmonies
are a lot more sophisticated than the
earlier Tango and reveal an understanding
of the piano that would stay with him
all his life. Of course the cynic would
say that it was a ‘cocktail lounge’
piece of its day – but I rate it higher
than that.
The Two Fantastic Dances are
a little too short to be able draw too
many conclusions – both of them being
under a minute in length. There is a
mix of styles in here that actually
becomes quite effective. A certain Arabian
exoticism tinged with Bartok creeps
out of the second G minor dance whilst
the first dance is rhythmically exciting
and harmonically lends its ear to Stravinsky.
They were both composed in 1938.
The Variations on a Sea Shanty
is the longest single work recorded
on these two discs. And I must say that
it is seriously impressive from start
to finish. It has everything one could
possibly imagine about a work with that
title. Yet this is not ‘drawing room’
music nor tunes to be played by ‘Grade
5’ students. This is a full blown set
of variations that requires all the
resources of an extremely competent
pianist. Parkin himself likens the scale
of parts of this work to Cesar Franck’s
Prelude, Chorale and Fugue.
The work was written in 1939/40 at
the beginning of the Second World War
– presumably when the United Kingdom
was suffering great losses to allied
merchant shipping. The tune, of course
is ‘What shall we do with the drunken
sailor.’ It is often hidden in the
pianistic outworking and then suddenly
become quite explicit. Some of the variations
are aggressive and certainly angry –suggesting
storms or violence on the high seas.
Yet often calm descends on the evening
scene. Perhaps the sailor has moved
on from being ‘fighting drunk’ to a
more reflective mood? Perhaps he is
thinking of his girl in Liverpool or
Southampton? I think that what raises
these Variations from a good
work to a great one is the skill that
Blezard has used in transforming and
reworking the basic material. He has
used a variety of pianistic styles -from
John Ireland through English pastoralism
to ‘Savoy Hotel lounge.’ Dissonance
is well used in conjunction with more
conventional musical devices. Yet the
styles never seem to clash or be out
of balance. The theme and the variations
are well unified in both the design
and implementation. One of the techniques
that Blezard apparently used is a variation
within a variation. The closing pages
are totally triumphant – the drunken
sailor has sobered up and is now quite
simply one of the Royal Navy’s finest.
The Nineteen-Forties
The Three European Dances (1942/1940/1944)
are fun. Although there is a certain
wistful air about all three pieces,
the general mood is one of danceability!
One of Bohemia’s national dance – as
represented in the 19th century
by the Strauss family leads the way.
The attractive Polka is probably
just about in the gift of a good amateur
pianist. I do notice that in places
there is a certain nautical feel to
this number – I wonder if Blezard had
not quite got the Sea Shanty Variations
out of his system. The Sarabande
is a bitter- sweet little mediation
that would bring a tear to a glass eye.
I would love to find the music for this
piece so I could luxuriate in the soft
Delian harmonies. This particular Tarantella,
which was a folk dance from Naples,
has a kind of ‘circus’ feel to it. Perhaps
we can almost see the lions and tigers
and clowns marching into the big top.
This is a manifestly difficult piece
to get the fingers round – but is extremely
effective in portraying the physical
efforts of dancing to remove the spider’s
poison from the body!
The Nineteen-Sixties
The October Dance was composed
in October 1960 after a seven or eight
year break from composition. Of course
Blezard was still musically active during
this time – he was touring as an accompanist
and working in the West-End as musical
director. Yet this piece is a welcome
return to the piano. It is very short
but much is said in what is basically
a small ternary composition. The piece
opens with a little hesitant figure
which could be said to be a little sad.
However it is soon replaced by a roguish
bit of figuration only to reappear and
bring the work to a reflective close.
October is one of those months when
we look back to the happy warm days
of summer and also wonder what the rigours
of winter will bring.
The Scherzino, published sometime
in the 1960’s is a nippy little work.
Quite a portion of it suggests Debussy
(Arabesque No.1) to me, although whether
this was the inspiration or not, I am
not sure. Most of the work is quite
light hearted, yet like much of Blezard's
music seems to have a few introspective
or even quite introverted moments. It
is certainly one of the most satisfying
and internally consistent pieces on
these two CDs.
William Blezard wrote three Piano
Sonatinas over a 28 year period.
Normally a sonatina is something a young
pianist would learn to play – think
of Clementi or Diabelli. Of course in
the Twentieth Century we have the much
more ambitious works by Maurice Ravel
and John Ireland which are all but sonatas.
Perhaps the definition of ‘sonatina’
ought to be better defined. Is it a
little sonata? Does duration have anything
to do with the case? Or is it more to
do with content. No one would ever confuse
Beethoven’s Hammerklavier Sonata
for its diminutive relation. But what
about some of Haydn’s easier examples?
Perhaps Blezard is using the term to
indicate that there is no earth shattering
dialectic in these works: heaven is
not stormed by ‘superman.’
Perhaps the true answer lies in the
fact the ‘sonata form’ does not lie
at the heart of these works. However,
musically they do not deserve to be
sidelined as ‘simple’ or ‘teaching material
– they are neither.
The First Sonatina was composed
in the late nineteen sixties. It is
quite easy to detect a ‘Les Six’ influence
in the brittle and neo-baroque ‘toccatina’
like principal theme – including the
slightly more romantic tune in the middle
section.
The ‘Espressivo’ middle section is
hardly profound. Yet it is in complete
contrast to the first movement and once
again explores Blezard’s more contemplative
mood. It is certainly the heart of this
work and deserves to be better regarded
than hither too. The last movement is
an ‘Allegro giocoso’ and is certainly
the most dissonant part of this sonatina-
I even heard what seems to me to be
a couple of note clusters. Yet even
here approachable tunes tend to emerge
as if from nowhere. My only criticism
is perhaps that it is little stylistically
unbalanced – but as for interest and
excitement it is pretty good.
The
Five Preludes, Book One
(1967/1968) are an attractive addition
to English piano music literature. They
were written in the late 1960’s at a
time when much music was what might
euphemistically be called experimental
or progressive. Yet here we have five
short piano works that are a perfect
exposition of piano technique that is
very much in succession of traditional
writing for the instrument. There is
nothing challenging about these pieces.
Of course that is not to say they lack
content – they sound extremely difficult
technically and require a great technique
to bring them off successfully. They
are not teaching pieces.
Blezard has indicated that the first
prelude was composed in Copenhagen whilst
he was working at a theatre in the Tivoli
Gardens. The remaining four emerged
over the next year or so finally culminating
in the last prelude which is actually
a ‘postlude.’
The first prelude is signed as being
moderato, but actually is quite an intense
work that seems to ‘push on’ towards
the conclusion. The piece rises to an
intensity before gradually subsiding
into a pensive close. The second prelude
is a little toccata – mostly written
for two parts that sound as if they
will tie the fingers into knots! One
of the features of this toccata is the
wide spacing of the part – the entire
compass of the piano is used. Rhythmically
it is exciting and in places quite glitzy.
The third prelude is a meditation:
the composer requests that it is played
‘flessible e legatissimo.’ Although
this is the general mood there are a
few brittle moments when the mood changes
somewhat. However, the original music
returns to bring the piece to a close
with a ‘jazzy’ cadence. The ‘Allegro
vivace’ moves along at a fair pace:
every so often a more expansive tune
tries to establish itself, but fails
– it is always pushed well out of the
way by complex finger work.
The heart of the work perversely is
in the last movement. This is an adagio
but subtitled ‘postlude.’ Once again
this reveals the introspective side
of Blezard’s art. Eric Parkin describes
it as ‘deeply felt.’ Nothing could be
further away from some of the orchestral
works reviewed in my previous article.
The Three Dance Studies were
composed over a three year period between
1966 and 1969. I suppose the first thing
I would say is that there is something
of Children’s Television about these
pieces. It is easy to imagine them being
used for some puppet show or cartoon
escapades. Perhaps it is hardly surprising
when one recalls that he served as an
accompanist for Playschool! The first
dance is an exercise in octaves. I must
confess to finding octaves difficult
to play. I recall a pianist telling
me that you have to lock your hand into
position and keep it that way – otherwise
major 7th and minor 9ths
ensue! And I have heard good pianists
fall into that trap! But Parkin avoids
this misdemeanour here! The music is
actually quite jazzy without being jazz
–perhaps puckish would be a better adjective.
The second ‘study’ is by far the longest
and is also a lot more profound. The
technical virtue here is the ‘trill.’
Perhaps this piece is less related to
cartoon –in fact I believe it could
easily have a life of its own. It is
probably one of the best of Blezard’s
pieces for piano. The mood is quite
complex – trills do not necessarily
suggest repose or reflection – yet some
of this music is just that. There is
a harsher and more dissonant middle
section that sounds terrifying difficult
to play. However the quieter music returns
and all is well. The composer who sprang
into mind on hearing this number was
Kaikhosru Sorabji and I do not feel
that is a bad comparison.
The last study is based on cross rhythms,
which is basically music that has, say
two and three beats to the bar. Of course
Blezard is much more subtle that this
and I would need to peruse the score
to say much more about his compositional
process. However this dance moves along
with quite a swing and once again could
be the accompaniment to some TV adventure.
Not the best of the series, perhaps
– but probably the hardest to bring
off successfully.
The Nineteen Seventies
The
Suite Circle of Time (1975) is
a meditation on the progress of the
seasons. It is strange in that there
are five sections – and there are only
four seasons! The secret is the reprise
of the New Year Carillon at the
works conclusion. The Carillon
opens the suite with its brittle, frosty
bell figuration. It is definitely winter
time-and a cold one at that. I remember
walking along the Thames near Barnes
one January morning and the frost had
hit the riverside vegetation during
the night. It was like fairyland. I
wonder if Blezard had enjoyed a similar
walk from his nearby home? The movement
dedicated to spring is quicksilver –
all over in 59 seconds. Yet a lot is
said and the imagery of ‘small creatures
that scuttle about’ is well described.
Summer Haze is a perfect little
tone picture. Once again I wonder if
it is based on his home territory. Perhaps
it is somewhere in Richmond Park when
he would have heard ‘all the live murmur
of a summer’s day.’ It is truly the
heart of this delicious suite. Autumn
Contrasts literally does that. The
composer contrasts ‘vivace semiquaver
triplets’ with much softer more introverted
material. Autumn is often a sad time
of year. With leaves blowing in the
wind, the trees becoming bare and the
days ‘drawing in.’ Fires burn and leaves
are consumed. And finally winter returns
– the New Year bells ring out the old
and ring in the new. It ends with a
perfect hush. This work for me is possibly
the most moving of the Blezard opus
that I have so far heard.
Fast Forward was composed in
1979 and is quite difficult to define
its form. Perhaps it would be best to
describe it a being a little toccatina
or maybe even nudging towards a ‘moto
perpetuo.’ But all classification is
doomed to fail It is just a zippy little
piece that would tire most pianists’
fingers into knots. Perhaps the imagery
derives from the eponymous button on
the recently invented video recorder?
The Second Sonatina (1970s)
was written for Donald Swann – one half
of Flanders and Swann. Of course he
was a composer in his own right and
is perhaps best remembered today for
the Hippopotamus Song. But let
it not be forgotten that he composed
many musicals and operas and contributions
to Hoffnung’s Musical Festivals. As
an aside, the one work that deserves
to be recorded and made available is
the Song Cycle ‘A Collection of Songs’
on poems by John Betjeman. Blezard knew
Swann well in his capacity as a musical
director
in fact he had met Swann through his
wife-to-be, Joan Kemp Potter. And it
was through him that Blezard was introduced
to Joyce Grenfell with whom he was to
have a successful working relationship
as her accompanists. So it is fitting
that this jazz-influenced work should
be dedicated to his friend and colleague.
The Second Sonatina opens with
a lively first movement. This not jazz
pastiche – but is actually a rather
good fusion of styles. Nods in the direction
of Billy Mayerl and Bartok are plentiful.
The second movement is marked lirico
and is actually extremely lyrical. It
has an attractive melody supported by
conventional but sometimes slightly
acerbic chords. This is very much in
the world of the cocktail lounge although
perhaps the taste would be a little
too bitter for the Ritz? There are touches
of Ireland in some of the figuration
and a little syncopation is never far
away: it is a very beautiful movement.
The ‘vigoroso’ is a nod in the direction
of Billy Mayerl and is almost pure ‘novelty’
piano writing. In fact Blezard had to
use conventional jazz notation in the
score to get his point across.
For the life of me I cannot see why
this Sonatina is not in the repertoire.
It would be a hit on classic FM and
even Radio 3 listeners would be impressed
at the subtle use of styles and moods.
As an encore the last movement would
be very popular.
The Nineteen-Nineties
The last of the published Sonatinas
(1994) is certainly the ‘lightest’ of
these three works. However that does
not necessarily mean that it is lightweight.
Once again Blezard makes use of jazz
and the syncopated styles popular with
pianist in the 1920’s. Yet in many ways
this is a work for the 1990s – even
if that relevance is the sense of it
being a bit retro. The mood of the work
is well summed up in the titles of the
three movements – ‘Happily,’ ‘Leisurely’
and ‘Brightly.’ There is nothing here
to disturb the mind or spoil the reverie
on a hot summer’s day. Those of us who
know the landscape of the Barnes area
can empathise with this imagery. There
is of course the usual Blezard sense
of nostalgia – perhaps for better days
that once were. The slow movement is
quite lovely with its stroll through
a sunlit landscape. But it is the ‘Charleston’
in the last movement that sets the seal
on this work. One minute and 59 seconds
of pure pleasure.
The miniature ‘On Reflection’
(c1997) was composed by William Blezard
expressly for Eric Parkin’s recording
session for the first of these discs.
Parkin says that is was a lovely surprise
and points out that it lies perfectly
under his hand. Blezard had watched
him play and had written a piece to
suit! This is a lovely work written
by a seventy seven year old man. Although
in some ways valedictory, it has a confidence
that carries it beyond the nostalgic.
The New Century
The Miscellany of Miniatures
(2000) is exactly that. In an earlier
period they would have been called ‘Album
Leaves.’ Most of them are quite short
- the shortest being 22 seconds and
the longest by far being the last at
three and half minutes.
They explore a variety of styles and
moods and pianistic techniques. In fact
I did notice that he had even experimented
with pointillism - or at least it seemed
to me. Jazz is obliquely referred to
in some of these little sketches. It
would be difficult to define who or
what they sound like. Some are naive
and some are complex. Tempi are quite
various and there is quite a variety
of dynamics and even textures. Some
sound 'easy' and others technically
difficult. I think that in spite of
their ephemeral nature they are actually
quite an important work. And strangely
they do hang together well. They are
not a set of variations, yet they work
as if they were. I was reminded of Vaughan
Williams – ‘Variations in search of
a theme.’
The Two Promenades for Eric
Parkin were composed in 2001 and reflect
two quite contrasting moods. The first
has the soubriquet of ‘excentrique’
and the second ‘heureuse.’
The first ‘promenade’ is less of a
‘promenade’ than a ‘snooze’ in a deckchair
by the Thames on a hot summer’s day.
The music is quite languorous and has
a certain feel of Constant Lambert’s
Rio Grande about it. And I cannot
for the life of me see what is eccentric
about it! The second promenade is another
example of Blezard’s debt to Billy Mayerl.
It is the sort of music that could accompany
a comedy film. In fact I was immediately
put in mind of a ‘Carry On’ film. Happiness
is not perhaps the best adjective but
it is certainly not a sad piece. Rather
it is almost lugubrious in its amusement.
Yet both pieces are a lovely dedication
to Eric Parkin and I can only hope that
he regularly plays one or both of them
at recitals.
Undated Pieces
Central Park West is a genuine
New York piece. Full of jazzy imagery
it first saw light of day a part of
the Manhattan Suite. This work
was originally scored for four saxophones
and piano and was based on a number
of sights and sounds of New York. It
is perhaps a desideratum to have the
whole of this suite available to the
listener -at least in its pianoforte
guise. It is fair to say that could
be defined as being jazz-impressionism.
Not only does the music portray a convincing
impression of Central Park, it also
conveys something of the pizzazz of
the Big Apple- although out the gates
and down Seventh Avenue. I feel that
perhaps it was written 'after dark'
at a time when panhandler's and muggers
had gone home to bed. Over-romanticized,
perhaps but also powerfully evocative
to those of us who know and love this
wonderful open space.
Jonathan's Scherzo is a short
tribute to the choreographer Jonathan
Howell. In the early ‘eighties he was
working on an entertainment by Sheridan
Morley called Noel and Gertie.
This was based on the songs, letters,
poem, diaries and films of Noel Coward.
The rehearsals took place in Odstock
Manor near Salisbury. The practice piano
has a somewhat 'spiky' quality to it
and Blezard's music apparently appealed
to Morley - hence the dedication. I
do not know if this work was written
at the time of the London performances
of this stage production, but if it
was the 1983 performance it included
starring roles for Susan Hampshire,
Simon Cadell and Patricia Hodge. It
was performed at the Comedy Theatre
in the West End.
Musically the Scherzo is a short
but extremely effective toccata. From
the first note to the last the energy
is palpable.
The date of the Sorority Samba
is unknown. However it is a delightful
piece that deftly captures the mood
of the dance without falling into the
trap of pastiche. Little is known about
who it was written for and why. It is
doubtful whether one could dance to
it, but the mood is right.
The two collections of the Jeux
d’esprit are best considered together.
We know the date of the second set –
2000/2002 but not for the first. Apparently
a ‘jeu d’esprit means a witty writing
or comment. And that is probably a very
good description of these six miniatures.
They
are pure jazz pieces and are quite unashamedly
derivative. Parkin notes that we can
hear the piano imitating the double
bass in the musical texture. The first
number is ‘gaiement’ and it certainly
goes along at a fun pace. However the
mood changes when the pianist has to
play ‘Relaxant’ – it is another one
of Blezard’s languorous pieces. Not
so much deck chair on Thames-side this
time but perhaps steam boat on the Mississippi.
The last movement of the first set is
just plain ‘vif.’ It just bounces along
with typical jazz clichés until
its rather abrupt ending.
The second set opens with a ‘bounce
tempo’ number that is rather too short
and certainly not sweet. This is a much
simpler texture that the previous set
and perhaps represents the composer
writing in a more concise style. This
‘spareness’ is evident in the ‘Allegretto
moderato’ which I think rather looses
its way. However the ‘middle eight’
has a bluesy feel that perhaps redeems
the situation. I detect an allusion
to the Addams’ Family theme in here
too! I wonder if it is just in my imagination.
The last ‘witticism’ is perhaps the
best of the bunch. It is totally ‘in
your face’ and none the worse for that.
It seems to sum up the ‘up tempo’ side
to Blezard’s compositional character.
Blezard’s piano music seems to divides
neatly into two strands – the jazz oriented
works and a very ‘English’ style that
is neither pastoralism nor modernism.
It would be invidious to suggest that
his contribution to the pianist was
essential or extremely important. There
is nothing here that compares to John
Ireland or even York Bowen. Blezard’s
attempts at writing ‘novelty’ pieces
never really approaches the talent of
Billy Mayerl or the American Zez Confrey.
We do not find in these works any new
approach to form, harmonies or pianism.
The music is rarely profound and tends
to be typically happy, if sometimes
tinged with nostalgia. From the works
that are presented on the two CDs we
could easily form the impression that
Blezard was a miniaturist. Many of these
numbers last for just over a minute
and rarely exceed five minutes. Of course
I have not heard the Piano Sonata
and do not know the scale of this work.
However if we look at the positive
side of Blezard’s piano works we soon
find plenty to enjoy and impress. For
a start he is very clever at using prevailing
popular styles. His adventures with
jazz are never pastiche. He does not
try to copy any standards or pop songs.
Invariably he moulds the jazz idiom
to his own very personal use and never
lets it take control of him. We have
noted above that some of his music borders
on the ‘novelty’ as exemplified by Billy
Mayerl – yet even here he manages to
put his own stamp on the material and
never slavishly follows where others
lead.
Blezard’s music does not really seem
to develop over time. There seems to
be no periods or styles that he has
attached himself to and then moved on
from. I am not aware that any of this
music makes use of tone rows or set
theory. However I did mention above
the odd cluster or two! From this it
follows that all of Blezard’s music
is approachable and rarely calls for
deep study to ‘get to the bottom of
it.’ There is nothing challenging or
difficult or avant-garde about any of
the tunes on these two CD. And that
brings me to my last point. Most of
Blezard’s music is in fact melodic and
quite tuneful. His harmonies may be
dissonant or consonant or bitter-sweet.
But they are never excruciating. Blezard’s
music is not simple, nor is it naïve
or primitive. It is at bottom a subtle
blend of popular, jazz and romanticism
infused with the composer’s sense of
humour and a certain nostalgia for a
bygone era.
His music is often quite impressionistic.
His ‘Summer Haze’ evokes and
English July day by the riverside better
than many so-called descriptive pieces
of music I have heard. Some may regard
this emotion as simplistic and not ‘classical’
but I regard it as a sign of a good
composer who excels at his craft and
had something important and certainly
very interesting to say.
Discography
The Piano Music of William Blezard,
Eric Parkin Piano, Priory PRCD617 1998
The Piano Music of William Blezard
Volume 2, Eric Parkin, piano Shellwood
Productions SWCD27. 2005
John France
see alsa article on Blezard
Orchestral Music
