This will bring back memories to Mancunians, quite 
          apart from the pleasure it will give generally, for Maurice Handford 
          was deputy to Barbirolli in his last years at the Hallé. A Manchester 
          man himself, he was passed over when the time came to choose a successor 
          to Sir John (and I looked for his name in vain in the history section 
          of the Hallé’s current website), the feeling being that a "home-boy 
          grown good" was not quite good enough (who remembers that long 
          interregnum with its endless waiting and speculation while standards 
          dropped and dropped?). To tell the truth, my memories of him are from 
          broadcast performances, for he did the rounds with the BBC regional 
          orchestras of the day, and nothing I remember made by heart beat any 
          faster, for all his honest competence. However, after a lapse of time 
          it is good to return to his art and to discover a fine musician at work. 
          Though the orchestra’s final choice of James Loughran proved an excellent 
          one, Handford’s claims were not negligible. For the Hallé, at 
          the time of these recordings, he also perhaps represented a link with 
          a glorious past (Mancunians will also feel a tinge of nostalgia on seeing 
          long-serving leader Martin Milner still at the front desk), and they 
          play their collective hearts out for him in the two Italian Intermezzi. 
          Sir John would have been proud of them. No less heart-warming is their 
          rendering of Remo Giazotto’s immortal monument to spurious religiosity, 
          the so-called Albinoni Adagio (the title as originally published 
          is that given above). In a programme of mainly slow pieces Handford 
          provides unfailingly musical phrasing and pacing and I for one listened 
          to it at one go with complete enjoyment. He is also excellent at differentiating 
          the various styles, so his Satie is cool and chaste while the Khachaturian 
          finds a vernal freshness rather than the hothouse Hollywoodian style 
          usually favoured. The strings hardly have a Philadelphia-like weight 
          at the climax but this is a highly attractive rendering. It should be 
          pointed out, however, that among the conductors who favoured the sultry 
          Hollywood approach were the composer himself, so evidently he liked 
          it like that. Not all of his listeners might agree. In the Massenet, 
          Martin Milner is sweet-toned though it would be idle to pretend that 
          he had the security of intonation and technical address of certain full-time 
          soloists who have recorded the piece. 
        
In a different vein, the Copland provides a suitably 
          brazen start (but the other American work, the Barber, really needs 
          a Bernstein to make it stay its length) and I heard the once-popular 
          "Judex" with interest since I had previously known it only 
          by name and by my own efforts on the organ – also in this latter form 
          I have always found that it has an effect on the public far beyond the 
          apparent value of its written notes. The MacCunn perhaps lacks the virile 
          energy and proud romanticism which Sir Alexander Gibson found in it 
          (not for nothing did that classic recording achieve a hit as the theme-tune 
          for BBC’s "Sutherland’s Law") but there is still much vitality. 
          "Suo Gan" is an affectionate tribute to another conductor, 
          George Weldon, who gave Midland audiences in particular much to be grateful 
          for. 
        
As the sound is still vivid it should be added that, 
          if your interest lies not in the rediscovery of a semi-forgotten conductor 
          and a slice of regional British musical history, but in a selection 
          of popular favourites, this will provide at least as much enjoyment 
          as many a more blazoned name. 
        
 
        
        
Christopher Howell