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This is a consistently enjoyable and rewarding 
                disc. It furnishes further evidence of Peggy Glanville-Hicks’s 
                intensely reflective and evocative response to text, whether poetic 
                or, in the case of the Paul Bowles inspired piece, prose. A student 
                variously and successively of Vaughan Williams, Wellesz and Nadia 
                Boulanger she spent much of her life outside her native Australia, 
                only returning full-time in 1975. It’s not at all surprising, 
                given the prominence of operatic work in her creative life, that 
                she should be so accomplished a setter for voice and piano but 
                it’s true that the songs have been rather overlooked. No longer. 
              
 
              
Profiles from China, five tiny settings 
                dating from 1945, are aptly delicate in their narrative simplicity. 
                The jewel is the third, The Dream, the spaced chordal strength 
                of which mirrors the philosophic compactness of the poem by Eunice 
                Tietjens, who died the year before Glanville-Hicks began work 
                on her poems. The Three Songs are early works dating from 1931 
                of two settings of A.E. and one of Fletcher’s Sleep. Frolic 
                sounds a little like reharmonised and modernised Butterworth. 
                Sleep embodies a gentle nobility, a beguiled ecstasy that 
                adduces an appropriately quasi-Elizabethan cadence: not in the 
                manner of W Denis-Browne say, of an earlier generation, but more 
                glintingly and very attractively. Mimic Heaven from the 
                Housman settings taxes even the supremely idiomatic Gerald English 
                up high but how beautifully he explores Glanville-Hicks’s dropping 
                motif in He Would Not Say and how heart-rending is his 
                delivery – how poignant the balance of melancholy and aloofness. 
                This set positively glitters with drama and loss, the dramatic 
                piano arpeggio in Stars included, as it does in more confident 
                face – Homespun Collars the last of the five is confident, 
                rhythmically a-quiver. English and pianist Roland Peelman are 
                jaunty and swaggering. 
              
 
              
The Harp Sonata makes a welcome appearance at 
                this point played by Marshall McGuire. In three short movements 
                this delightfully lyric piece is suffused in affection and heart-warming 
                melody but also a sure awareness of the harp’s potential. Its 
                technical grounding is not in doubt. Thirteen Ways of Looking 
                at A Blackbird sets Wallace Stevens’ poems with the 
                utmost concision and concentration, employing declamation from 
                the singer – in When the Blackbird Flew Out Of Sight – 
                as well as suggestive underscoring of beautifully crafted refinement. 
                At the sight of blackbirds flying is one of the 
                most beautifully taut settings of a poem I’ve ever heard. There’s 
                also abandon and verve - He rode over Connecticut – and 
                plenty of contrastive material. The disc ends with Letters 
                from Morocco, the settings of Bowles’ letters and accompanied 
                by orchestra. She sets the polysyllabic words with great deftness 
                – it can’t be easy to set the prose line where life is prohibited 
                it becomes a delectable forbidden fruit, for example. 
                Bowles and Glanville-Hicks were long-standing friends and wrote 
                regularly to each other. The settings are evocative, colouristic, 
                hinting at strange lands, burnished and supportive of the text. 
                English essays the occasional melismatic cry with unerring skill 
                and the depth and richness and the sheer subtlety of the settings 
                are made only more palpable through repeated listening. 
              
 
              
The cover painting is of the composer in a red 
                cloak with a barn owl sitting on her outstretched and gloved hand. 
                Her just visibly jutting shirtsleeve or jumper shares the owl’s 
                brown and whiteness and hints, perhaps, at her cool, avian otherness. 
                Or whatever. Her music meanwhile has always filled me with the 
                greatest admiration and this disc is recommended with undimmed 
                enthusiasm. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf  
              
see also review 
                by Rob Barnett