With the exception of a handful of HMV/EMI tapes 
                the best sounding and latest Beecham-Delius recordings have been 
                in the hands of CBS (now Sony) and before that with Fontana and 
                Philips in the days of LP. I am not sure about In a Summer 
                Garden but certainly the Sketches and Appalachia 
                were available on CBS mid-price LPs in the early 1970s. Strange 
                how, while the EMI-Beecham tapes have rarely been out of the catalogue, 
                the CBS/Sonys have constantly dipped in and out of the retailers' 
                shelves. 
              
 
              
Let us start with the most recently issued disc 
                which includes Eventyr and some of the Hassan music. 
              
 
              
With this disc Sony UK, steadfast in their commitment, 
                reach the fourth and final chapter in their mission to restore 
                the CBS/Beecham/Delius sessions to the catalogue. At the same 
                time (May 2003) Sony have released all four CDs in a boxed set 
                and this review is prompted by that set. 
              
 
              
These discs must also be seen in context of Sony's 
                wider commitment to issue all their Beecham material in standard 
                livery - all with the blessing of Shirley, Lady Beecham. 
              
 
              
The CBS Delius tapes date from 1949 to 1956. 
                They are all in mono; some missing stereo by a whisker. It is 
                interesting that Sony have shown no inclination to find a new 
                champion for Delius. While EMI, Universal and others recorded 
                Delius with Barbirolli, Groves, Mackerras, Handley, Hickox and 
                Marriner, CBS/Sony, apart from some morceaux by Ormandy and Louis 
                Lane, have held steady to their Beecham monos now over half a 
                century old. 
              
 
              
Eventyr shows us Delius in Nordic mode. 
                Like Percy Grainger, Delius loved Grieg and his music. He may 
                have intended this piece, after Asbjornson, to be something of 
                a Gynt tribute. This is a tone poem along the lines of 
                Bax's orchestral Legend and Northern Ballad No. 2. 
                The piece lacks the narrative backbone of Bax's First Ballad 
                but the moody atmosphere of the Second and the discursive 
                meander of the Legend are reasonable parallels. Imaginative 
                episodes include the harp's spiccato impact (10.12), the dizzying 
                step acceleration at 6.30 and the two 'goblin shouts' from the 
                men of the orchestra at 7.01 and 7.28, the second one more groaningly 
                impassioned than the first. Eventyr and North Country 
                Sketches have the curious distinction of being the pieces 
                most likely to please the determined anti-Delian. 
              
 
              
Delius's operas have not been all that successful. 
                Even A Village Romeo and Juliet is better known on disc 
                than in the theatre. Koanga, the story of love among the 
                plantation slaves, followed Irmelin and The Magic 
                Fountain. Beecham believed in it sufficiently to conduct it 
                complete on a handful of occasions. Charles Groves conducted a 
                revival in Camden in the 1970s. The broadcast of that event, much 
                later issued by Intaglio, used to be available. The whole Intaglio 
                line has now disappeared from the shelves long ago. The final 
                scene from Koanga is about the length of a compact overture. 
                It is mostly orchestral with the voices entering towards the Appalachia-style 
                end. 
              
 
              
Arabesk is a song for baritone 
                and orchestra. The singer is not wonderfully secure although he 
                is by no means disastrous. There is also a role for female chorus. 
                The premiere was given in Newport, Wales in 1920, almost a decade 
                after the work's completion. The work makes ideal gramophone listening. It 
                certainly does not easily fit into concert programmes. The words 
                are not printed in the booklet. The same is true for Koanga. 
              
 
              
The Basil Dean production of Flecker's Hassan 
                was a media event of the 1920s. Dawn Redwood's excellent Thames 
                book about Delius and Hassan is worth tracking down. It 
                will give you full details of the Delius-Basil Dean collaboration. 
                The music played a crucial role in making a success from this 
                play about exotics, love, sadism, poets and the quest for the 
                unattainable. The eleven items here are miracles of Classic FM 
                perfection - miniatures which set scenes and narrate. Leslie Fyson 
                swallows the odd word in The Song of the Beggars and Beecham 
                goads his orchestra to such a lick of speed that the singers cannot 
                quite keep up. The houri sigh of the women's chorus at tr.8 is 
                memorable as is the wretched remorseleness of The Procession 
                of Protracted Death with a cough at start of the track and 
                the rustle of turning pages to be heard. In the closing scene, 
                at 4.30, the solo violin arabesques upwards into otherworldliness 
                like a pre-echo of Hovhaness in Fra Angelico. The bells 
                sound dully prosaic - the only real miscalculation. 
              
 
              
What goes around comes around. It is testimony 
                to Beecham's melting insight and his certainty of how the music 
                should go that these recordings have a way of returning to the 
                catalogue time after time. As Beecham-Delius artefacts they complement 
                the historic Naxos series reviewed here by Bill Hedley and myself 
                as well as the stereo Beechams of the late 1950s and early 1960s. 
                The lesson with Sony Classics has been to buy before they delete. 
                Need I say more? 
              
 
              
Now for the Appalachia/North Country 
                Sketches disc … 
              
 
              
Beecham's sympathy for Delius's hazy shimmering 
                magic is fully on display in the Sketches which are a degree 
                or two chillier as befits their moorland origins. While we associate 
                Delius with warmer climes (his despising attitude to his native 
                heath is well enough known), we can link this work with his Nordic 
                group including Eventyr and Paa Vidderne. The bleaker 
                sections of Autumn, the wind soughs among the trees bring 
                us face to face with the sounds we hear in Arthur Butterworth's 
                Moorland Symphony, Hadley’s The Hills and in the 
                bleaker Bax of Northern Ballad No. 2. I have always loved 
                this work and am extremely pleased that it has reappeared on CD. 
                When arranging concerts do not forget that this is one of those 
                works that is in four movements with each allocated to a season. 
                Imaginative programme planners could do worse than group Bridge's 
                Summer, Panufnik's Autumn, Foulds April-England 
                and Wilfred Josephs' Symphony No. 7 Winter, around this 
                work. The present recording was also previously issued in the 
                early 1990s on Sony's British pageant series (SMK58934) with Over 
                the Hills, Eventyr and the closing scene from Koanga 
                (a shorter and less substantial collection than the present 
                offering). 
              
 
              
The other two Beecham works on this disc derive 
                from tapes which appear here on CD for the first time. The honey 
                warm idyll of In a Summer Garden is less sensuously pagan 
                than Bax's Spring Fire but the dew-drop descending figures 
                are similar. The last time I heard this Beecham-Delius Appalachia 
                was when I bought CBS LP 61354 circa 1974. Both Appalachia 
                and Garden are smooth sounding with hiss largely eliminated. 
                The 78rpm origins of the Sketches are proclaimed by the 
                busy, though hardly intrusive, surfaces. Appalachia sounds 
                superb and its first ten minutes will conquer any doubts you may 
                have about this version - just listen (track 6 at 3.40) to the 
                magically jangling counterpoint of the banjo-evocation echoing 
                from his time in Florida. This rises to a wonderfully sustained 
                climax. In the finale the tenor's slightly mannered delivery is 
                offset by the glories of the choral singing in what must be the 
                briefest role for a choir in a work that plays for circa 35 minutes. 
                It is archetypical of the theme of transience, ephemeral glory 
                and passing time that Delius should set the words Oh honey 
                I am going down the river in the morning. Much the same sense 
                can be felt in the closing scene of A Village Romeo And Juliet 
                as the two lovers are carried down the river to the ecstasy of 
                oblivion. This is also in the same spirit as Sea Drift which 
                embraces loss - hymning its glory in the setting of the sun. 
              
 
              
Sony do not say so on the outside of the jewel 
                case but these performances are, of course, in mono though such 
                a 'shortcoming' is totally outweighed by the myriad glistening 
                dimensions which Beecham brings to all this music. 
              
 
              
The exceptionally informative (English only) 
                booklet notes for each four sets are by Graham Melville-Mason. 
                Sony are also to be congratulated for their design decisions on 
                the series. Their superbly detailed typography and black on white 
                approach defeats the design gurus whose efforts often undermine 
                those who write for CD booklets. 
              
 
              
Beecham's famed sensitivity and response to nuance 
                is in full spate here. All that is missing is modern stereo sound. 
                Such a pity that Norman del Mar (a Beecham disciple) never recorded 
                Appalachia. Barbirolli is good too but Hickox (Decca) is 
                rather too focused on grandeur at the expense of sensitivity. 
              
 
              
Beecham's book of spells was unfaded with age 
                and he casts his enchantment in warm balm, sunlit torment and 
                towering affirmation in the recording of a Mass of Life. 
                Much of this performance brings out the slow dreamy ecstasy of 
                the mountains as in Song of the High Hills (such a pity 
                Beecham did not record this work and the Requiem with CBS). 
                The sound is worth more than a passing mention. It has a beguiling 
                haziness well suited to the choral writing. This is the haze of 
                far hills and shimmering distances. Impact is there and though 
                our expectations must be tempered the rasp and bark of the brass 
                in the opening animato is impressive. Fiery character is 
                never in short supply. The solo voices, to a man and woman secure 
                and clear, are subjected to a pleasing closer focus. The sound 
                of the chorus is, by contrast, distanced so that it does not have 
                the thudding frontal impact of the 1972 EMI Groves recording (reissued 
                1992 CMS 7 64218 2). The Norman Del Mar on Intaglio (INCD702-2 
                from BBC relay 3 May 1971), presumably taken from a Radio 3 broadcast, 
                is the least transparent of the recordings and the most natural. 
                It also enjoys the presence of a young Kiri Te Kanawa and a typically 
                admirable John Shirley-Quirk. The Beecham Mass is tastefully balanced 
                with fully acceptable zeroing in on instruments for effect. It 
                is truly glorious and while previous hearings of the LPs and other 
                versions of the Mass left me rather bored with much of the work 
                I rarely felt the grip slacken here. I have not heard the Chandos 
                Hickox version but I know that it is highly regarded. I have however 
                heard a tape of a Sargent broadcast from the 1960s which had great 
                strengths in the weight of the choral contribution; much the same 
                can be said of the Groves. Of course the Beecham is in mono. I 
                applaud Sony for their candour in declaring this on the disc if 
                not on the cover. I would rate the Beecham very highly, with the 
                Del Mar not far behind and the Groves not far behind that. As 
                I say, I have not heard the Hickox but it will take quite something 
                to match the supple enchantment of the Beecham. The Groves set 
                coupled Songs of Sunset and An Arabesque while the 
                Intaglio, which you might be able to pick up second-hand, also 
                had Groves conducting that great rarity, the Delius Requiem. 
              
 
              
Everything about these mid-price discs shows 
                caring attention. There is full discographical detailing as well 
                as notes, full texts and translations. The Sony engineers have 
                steered astutely between the Scylla of background silence and 
                bled sound and the Charybdis of hiss. There is hiss there if you 
                dig deep but what I hear is the naturalness of those sessions 
                of almost five decades ago faultlessly resurrected. 
              
 
              
The Mass of Life set is completed by a 
                rather unspecific talk by Beecham delivered in his waggishly drawling 
                sing-song. 
              
 
              
Now to the last disc … 
              
 
              
These are prized recordings and are not new to 
                CD. CBS (in one case just before Sony’s appearance on the scene) 
                put out three discs in a disparate series. Masterworks Portrait 
                gave us Hassan, with Sea Drift and Arabesk on 
                MPK 47680 in 1991. Sony ‘British Pageant’ in 1993 gave us Over 
                the Hills, North Country Sketches, Eventyr and 
                Koanga’s Closing Scene on SMK58934. 
              
 
              
I am not at all sure that I prefer Beecham's 
                Paris over Mackerras's on CD-EMX 2185 but it is a sensitive 
                reading of a work with more than its fair share of nodding moments. 
                Things are quite different in Sea Drift where everyone 
                seems equal to the demands of the score and where Boyce can be 
                relied on to touch the wellspings of tears in this affecting hymn 
                to loneliness and the bereft. Over the Hills, written in 
                the wake of a thoroughly violent Norwegian storm, is an evocation 
                of the faerylands of childhood. 
              
 
              
If you want to capture the Delius-Beecham alchemy 
                in sound better than the Naxos 1930s recordings this is where 
                to go. 
              
 
              
Performances of distilled enchantment throughout 
                these five discs.
 
                Rob Barnett