Bax’s
epic
Symphonic Variations for piano and orchestra
equals the Brahms piano concertos in length. Here is a new
recording of it that supersedes the earlier Chandos version
with Margaret Fingerhut and the London Philharmonic Orchestra
conducted by Bryden Thomson
(review).
This powerful and poetic reading by Wass and Judd reveals
more and assists in a deeper appreciation of this undervalued
romantic work.
The
Symphonic
Variations is divided into two parts with a theme and
three variations in the first and three more sections comprising
the second. Each variation has a title, some of them enigmatic.
Its dedication is to Bax’s lover, the concert pianist,
Harriet Cohen. Rosa Newmarch who wrote the programme note
for the first performance tried to be helpful – she likened
it to “some great epic poem dealing with the adventures
of a hero, passing through different experiences ...”
The
tumultuous relationship between Harriet and Arnold was spread
over many years. It is important to remind ourselves of the
times in which this music was composed. Standards and attitudes
were very different in those days. People were far more reticent
about revealing details about their private lives. It is
significant that Arnold and Harriet were discreet about their
affair in their books –
Farewell My Youth (1943) and
A
Bundle of Time (1969) respectively. There can be no doubt
that Bax was very much in love with Harriet Cohen at the
time of this composition - 1916-18. Bax’s
Tintagel and
November
Woods were also composed around this time and both allude
to their romance. Harriet was a very beautiful and talented
young woman and popular with many other musicians and writers.
Her circle included Elgar, Sibelius and Arnold Bennett. The
latest, 2007 edition of Lewis Foreman’s first class biography,
Bax,
A Composer and His Times, (
review)
is well worth reading. It reveals more than his notes for
this CD about the developing romance and about the attitude
of Bax’s wife, Elsita, whom he left for Harriet. For a fuller
appreciation of Bax’s
Symphonic Variations, I recommend
reading Foreman, especially the chapter devoted to Cohen
(pp. 152-175). But do also track their history through the
other pages indexed under Cohen’s name. You will then gain
a full appreciation of their stormy relationship.
Rob
Barnett’s
review of
this recording touches on Harriet’s possessive attitude towards
this work. This contributed to its long and unjustified neglect
so I will not labour that point but proceed to an examination
of the music and the Naxos reading.
Segments
of the piano part of Bax’s song
Parting to words by
AE (the Irish poet, George Russell) are quoted in the statement
of the theme, at the end of the first variation. They also
surface at the beginning of the final variation, ‘Triumph’.
This must have had great romantic significance for the couple.
The words including “…in the night our cheeks were wet, I
could not say with dews or tears…” In fact one must suppose
that this work is one long love song. Just listen to those
aching horn calls at 0:44 in the statement of the theme and
the tender longing of the piano’s entry immediately afterwards
supported by long-held, sighing string chords. There is a
broad hint of Rachmaninoff here. The first variation, marked
quite self-explanatory ‘Youth: Allegro: Restless and tumultuous’ interrupts
this mood accordingly. At 2:29 the tumult dissipates and
the music becomes hesitant and sweetly introspective. We
then pass without a break into the lovely second variation
marked ‘Nocturne: Slow and serene: Broadly’. Wass and Judd
are particularly successful in conveying its sylvan beauty:
one can so easily imagine moonlit waters, the song of a nightingale
and romantic trysts climaxing in sweet passion. Grieg and
Delius come to mind. Soft horns prelude the bridge passage
into the turbulent third variation that ends part one. It
is marked ‘Strife: Allegro vivace’. This is music in an altogether
different mood and one can’t help feeling that the composer
was influenced by the tragic events in Ireland and the loss
of so many of his friends and colleagues in the Great War.
Foreman argues convincingly that there might have been a
personal agenda too referring to the domestic conflict between
Bax and, Elsita, his wife. Certainly the music around 5:00
suggests this idea; listen to those thrashing chords around
5:40. But the movement ends in heroic assertiveness.
The
second part of Bax’s
Symphonic Variations begins with
the fourth variation - enigmatically marked ‘The Temple:
Slow and Solemn’. It consists of alternating sections for
solo piano and orchestra alone. What Bax had in mind, here,
we will probably never know. The word ‘Temple’ might be
the clue. A temple is somewhere to celebrate things sacred.
Certainly the romance between Harriet and Arnold would have
been sacred but there might have been other elements in Bax’s
life that were sacred to him too? For me, this is the emotional
heart of the work. Is this Bax revealing himself in love
and yearning, in regret and in guilt? There may also be a
hankering for times past. We know that he began to look back
on pre-war days with a growing bitter sweet nostalgia about
this time –
Farewell My Youth indeed! – I believe
it’s all here. There is some material of a quasi-oriental
nature and one is tempted to think of Cyril Scott here. Again
Wass and Judd give a glowing account of this beautiful, intense
music. Variation five, in contrast, is marked ‘Play: Scherzo:
Allegro vivace – Intermezzo: Enchantment Very Moderate tempo’.
This is the longest variation at 10:27 minutes. The Scherzo
is light, carefree and exuberant – a young Harriet skipping
merrily along at 2:00? Then we come to the altogether more
solemn Intermezzo section and those distant drums which Foreman
suggests might be far-off gunfire? This is a deeply felt
reverie, some distance away, one might suspect, from romance. The
final variation ‘Triumph: Moderate tempo – Glowing and passionate’ begins
as mentioned above with a literal quotation from the piano
part of the song
Parting. The variation moves from
romance and concludes in exciting and passionate assertion,
although the pounding piano chords do seem to have an edge
of anxiety that Foreman suggests could be symptomatic of
the post-(Great)war period to come.
Bax’s
Concertante
for Piano (Left Hand) and Orchestra was written in
1949 for Harriet, in penance, one suspects, for his earlier
shabby treatment of her when he was obliged to confess,
after his wife, Elsita, had died in 1947, and when Harriet
insisted that there was now no impediment to them marrying,
that he had been involved, for many years, in an extra
affair with Mary Gleaves. A terrific row ensued and soon
after Harriet suffered the accident to her right wrist
apparently caused when she dropped a tray of glasses. This
work, except for its central
moderato tranquillo movement
is quite inferior, I fear to the
Symphonic Variations.
Yet Wass and Judd serve it well. I will pass over it without
further comment except to refer you to my review of the
1999 performance by Margaret Fingerhut included on
Chandos
CHAN9715. I also commend Lewis Foreman’s remarks at
the end of my review.
This
CD is certain to figure amongst my choice of recordings for
2009.
Ian Lace
see also review by Rob Barnett
Ashley Wass
(piano) 
