I must confess than I have never been a fan of the 
          operas of Richard Wagner. O.K. there are a number of purple passages 
          that one would have to have the sensibilities of a block of wood not 
          to be moved by. But taken as a whole I find his operas too long, too 
          teutonic and often quite frankly boring. For many years I have kept 
          this to myself. I remember a long time ago going to hear Götterdämmerung 
          at Scottish Opera. We watched the first act, went for an Indian 
          in the second and came back for the immolation! I confess to being unmoved 
          even by Tristan and Isolde, though have long loved the orchestral 
          Liebestod. My preference would be to see Ruddigore rather 
          than Rienzi or perhaps Brigadoon rather than La Bohème. 
          My friends tell me that, operatically speaking, I am a philistine. But 
          I stand unmoved. 
        
 
        
Perhaps it is just the continental school of opera 
          that I cannot quite get to grips with. I have always quite enjoyed Vaughan 
          Williams’ Hugh the Drover and Britten's A Midsummer Night’s 
          Dream. I even remember being reasonably impressed by Iain Hamilton's 
          Catiline Conspiracy - no tuneful work that! But if the truth 
          were known I would rather hear the most obscure piano sonata by an equally 
          obscure British composer than sit through the most sumptuous performance 
          of Aida. 
        
 
        
So why is A Village Romeo and Juliet one of 
          my favourite musical works? There is no doubt that much of the musical 
          content of Delius’s opera derives from his understanding and appreciation 
          of Wagner. Parsifal is seen as a possible role model. This opera 
          could not have come into being had it not been for the Wagner ‘tradition’ 
          or is it ‘bandwagon’? 
        
 
        
There are two answers to my personal conundrum. Firstly, 
          I have loved Delius's music ever since I heard an old recording of Beecham 
          conducting the Song of Summer. I knew the story of Eric Fenby 
          being asked to imagine sitting on the cliffs far above the sea on the 
          Yorkshire coast. It appealed to my teenage sense of poetry, English 
          pastoralism and perhaps nature mysticism. I remember rushing out to 
          buy the record. After listening to the Song I realised that the 
          next tune was A Walk to the Paradise Garden. I played it over 
          and over again and tried to understand what it was that so impressed 
          me and moved me with this music. I read an epitome of the opera and 
          realised that it somehow summed up all my adolescent feelings about 
          the purity and nobility of love. And I was well and truly hooked. 
        
 
        
It was not long before I went to the library and borrowed 
          the score of A Village Romeo and Juliet. Some of my friends gave 
          me some 'stick' when they saw me wandering round Coatbridge High School 
          with an opera score tucked under my arm. They would have been much less 
          surprised if it had been William Alwyn's 1st Symphony. 
          Fortunately I was able to borrow the original LP boxed set of this recording 
          from a girlfriend who deeply loved English music and Frederick Delius. 
          I locked myself into my bedroom and listened to this wonderful music 
          without a break. I was captivated; and have been ever since. 
        
 
        
It was a great pleasure to have this CD to review. 
          It is like finding an old friend on Friends Reunited after a break of 
          more than quarter of a century! And it is still as delicious and as 
          beautiful and as moving as it was nearly thirty years ago! 
        
 
        
But this does not answer the question as to why I like 
          this Delius opera and not Tristan. In many ways the operas are 
          quite similar. Well, I have always felt that I ought to be an enthusiast 
          of Tristan and Isolde - and my word I have tried - vocal 
          score, orchestral score, and even video but to little avail. It was 
          not until I read some words written by Robert Anderson in Grove that 
          I suddenly realised the reason. Referring to Delius's masterpiece he 
          says, 'The result is an operatic masterpiece with drama and music marvellously 
          integrated, a Tristan and Isolde for the young and innocent.' 
          It all fitted. I know I would rather listen to Merrie England 
          than Meistersingers, so why not A Village Romeo and Juliet 
          rather than Tristan. Perhaps I felt that Delius's score was far 
          less pretentious than Wagner's. No-one ever told me that I ought to 
          listen to Fred’s work, that I ought to understand and enjoy it. Au contraire, 
          people have been amused that I like Delius and have quoted the oft-heard 
          tale that once you have heard one piece of the old Bradfordian you've 
          heard 'em all! Perhaps it is the relative simplicity of the story that 
          appeals to me? Or it may be that I have a huge soft spot for Delius 
          that is totally lacking for Wagner! 
        
 
        
I have listened carefully to this CD. I have played 
          a few passages over a number of times. It is nice to revisit old haunts. 
          This is intense music; it is no bucolic romp. Yet it is the contemplative 
          side of this music that gets to me every time. It is, as Fenby has written 
          in the programme notes, '[A] contemplative attitude [that] goes far 
          beyond the reach of time and far beyond the personal tragedy of Sali 
          and Vrenchen.' 
        
 
        
In this score I am able to find that Paradise Garden 
          which I suppose I was in the process of leaving when I was in my last 
          year at school and had discovered this marvellous opera. In many ways 
          I have been trying to get back into it ever since. No surprise that 
          Hodgson's Secret Garden is on of my favourite children's books. 
          In a Summer Garden also written by Delius and William Baines' 
          Paradise Gardens are two of my top twenty favourite works - a 
          Desert Island must. My religious sensibilities are aroused by the 'garden' 
          imagery of the Song of Solomon, the Hortus Conclusus and the glorious 
          verse from that book that form the words to Patrick Hadley's fine anthem 
          My Beloved Spake. But perhaps as Fenby points out, our Paradise 
          Garden is overgrown, the song of the birds is nearly still and the 
          beauty of it all is 'smutched' like Ben Jonson's snow. 
        
 
        
Listening to this revelatory performance of A Village 
          Romeo and Juliet has allowed me to slip back into the ‘Paradise 
          Garden’ for a space. It has helped me to see that it still exists and 
          that it is possible to remain there for refreshing breaks. 
        
 
        
What of the libretto? Well it is hardly the place of 
          a review to rehearse the story in any great detail, but perhaps a thumbnail 
          sketch is appropriate. 
        
 
        
The libretto was actually compiled by the composer 
          himself after a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get other translators 
          to knock Gottfried Keller's story into shape. 
        
 
        
Basically it is a tale of a young man and a young woman, 
          Sali and Vrenchen who have fallen hopelessly in love but do not have 
          and cannot get their parents’ blessing. In fact there is hatred between 
          the two families over a land dispute. The land belonged to an itinerant 
          and illegitimate Dark Fiddler who was unable to inherit due to Swiss 
          law. The situation becomes impossible and leads to the lovers committing 
          suicide after having known a short time of bliss. They drown in a barge 
          on the river after having opened the 'sea cocks.' 
        
 
        
The production of this CD is perfect. EMI Classics 
          are to be congratulated for this re-release. The quality of the sound 
          is excellent; bearing in mind this is a thirty-year-old recording. Robert 
          Tear was always one of my heroes from the ’seventies. His rendition 
          of Sali is ideal. Elizabeth Harwood plays a moving Vrenchen. It was 
          John Shirley-Quirk who introduced me to the wonderful Songs of Travel 
          by Ralph Vaughan Williams - settings of poems of one of my favourite 
          Scottish writers, Robert Louis Stevenson. He gives a superb account 
          of the Dark Fiddler. The programme notes are very good. They do not 
          contain a complete libretto, but a condensed résumé of 
          the plot with textual extracts. Eric Fenby wrote these notes for the 
          original release on vinyl. 
        
 
        
One of the bonuses of this excellent double CD is a 
          fascinating illustrated talk by Fenby. It covers a large sweep of Delius’s 
          work and gives a good insight into the workings of an amanuensis. One 
          of the most moving parts of this talk is Fenby's description of how 
          the near-blind composer dictated part of Cynara. For someone 
          who does not know much about Frederick Delius this is the perfect introduction; 
          from the one who knew the composer better than anyone else (apart from 
          Jelka) 
        
 
        
I cannot recommend this CD too highly. It is now at 
          super-budget price and I suggest all Delius enthusiasts rush out and 
          buy it - either for the first time or to replace their vinyl copy (Angel 
          SBLX-3784; EMI SLS966; HMV Greensleeve EM290404-3). It is a perfect 
          opportunity to possess for all time one of the most perfect British 
          operas in one of the benchmark performances of all time. 
        
 
        
For me, personally, it is like catching up with my 
          adolescent dreams. I cannot wait to enter the ‘Paradise Garden’ just 
          one more time! 
        
 
        
John France