Richard Rodney Bennett, although now resident in New 
          York, is unquestionably one of the most naturally versatile British 
          compositional talents of the last forty years or so. I place equal emphasis 
          on the words natural and versatile, for it is the sheer ease with which 
          he has been able to flit between the genres of mainstream classical, 
          film music and jazz that marks him out as a truly diverse talent, a 
          diversity that is demonstrated particularly well by this disc. In point 
          of fact jazz has been an increasingly important influence both compositionally 
          and in performance, partnering singers such as Marion Montgomery on 
          the piano and also building something of a reputation as a singer-songwriter 
          himself with a fine voice.
        
        The jazz influence and lighter side of his musical 
          nature is well demonstrated in the Concerto for Stan Getz 
          and the unashamedly sentimental Dream Sequence, for cello and 
          piano, recorded upon the birth of Julian Lloyd Webber’s son, David, 
          and played here by Lloyd Webber with the composer at the piano. Dream 
          Sequence is in fact an arrangement of three popular songs inspired 
          by childhood and reminiscences thereof, Baby let me take you dreaming, 
          Sleepyhead and Welcome to my dream. I’m afraid 
          the slush is all too much for me here but there you go. It’s one of 
          those pieces you will either love or hate. The Stan Getz Concerto 
          is altogether more interesting, a stimulating combination of energy 
          with a little grit thrown into the first movement for good measure, 
          coupled with smoke filled blues bars late at night in the central movement 
          and a fiercely demanding saxophone part despatched with aplomb and stylistic 
          perfection by the ever magnificent John Harle. 
        
        The film music is represented by the Waltz from 
          Murder on the Orient Express and the "love theme" from 
          the huge box office smash Four Weddings and a Funeral. Part of 
          Richard Rodney Bennett’s success with film scores could be attributed 
          to his reputation for writing with phenomenal speed, a great asset in 
          hitting tight deadlines, although there is nothing about this music 
          that indicates any corners being cut. Far from it, in the case of Murder 
          on the Orient Express he manages to get marvellously inside both 
          the period and the atmosphere of Agatha Christie’s classic novel in 
          music of effervescent appeal. By its side, the dreamy excerpt from Four 
          Weddings and a Funeral, whilst perfectly attractive, is far less 
          memorable although I certainly well remember the effectiveness of the 
          incidental music in the context of the film itself. 
        
        The Piano Concerto No.1 pre-dates all of these 
          works by some margin although only six years separate it from Murder 
          on the Orient Express. It is hard to believe that this music came 
          from the pen of the same composer, the Piano Concerto representing 
          Bennett’s earlier, strongly serial based style, a legacy of his studies 
          with Boulez and time spent at Darmstadt in the late 1950s. By the 1980s 
          the serial element of his language had largely worked itself out although 
          there are still traces of it audible in the opening movement of the 
          Getz concerto. Written for Stephen Kovacevich (then Bishop) and the 
          CBSO to a Feeney Trust commission, the Piano Concerto is very 
          much a tour de force, skilfully exploring differing elements of the 
          instrument’s character in each movement. The opening Moderato 
          is marked by elaborate, crystalline figuration, the piano exploring 
          the melody in wonderfully haunting, dream-like animation. The ensuing 
          Presto is Bartókian in the percussiveness of its solo 
          part, whilst the Lento explores a bluesy melody stated at the 
          outset in writing of greater soloistic density than the Moderato. 
          The final Vivo is a breathless and ultimately emphatic headlong 
          dash of constantly shifting time signatures with a more restrained, 
          albeit short lived, lyricism reminiscent of the opening movement, at 
          its heart. 
        
        In many ways it is the Piano Concerto that has 
          "dated" here, a statement very much of its time. Yet it’s 
          a fine work with much to admire and, in this case, a highly committed 
          performance by Kovacevich. Having listened to the disc, which I have 
          to say does serve as a very useful overview of Richard Rodney Bennett’s 
          prolific output, I found myself lamenting the fact that so little of 
          his "serious" music is currently available. One of those occasional 
          reminders that although we should consider ourselves lucky that so much 
          rarely heard British music is now coming to disc, there are so many 
          more deserving cases to consider. 
        
        Christopher Thomas
        See also review 
          by Hubert Culot