The British Light Music
series from White Line hits Volume 6.
There are three orchestras and two conductors
involved – Gavin Sutherland waving his
well-established baton over the Royal
Ballet Sinfonia and the City of Prague
Philharmonic Orchestra and Neil Thomson
takes the LSO – no less – through Christopher
Slaski’s Frank Lloyd Wright Suite. Is
my Snob Detector too sensitively tuned
or should I overlook the fact that the
LSO typeface on the cover booklet comfortably
dwarfs that of the other two bands?
If I was Sutherland I might be a bit
miffed, though I’m sure he’s not that
sort of chap.
The programme is a
funny old affair I have to say. Starting
with Walford Davies’ 1919 RAF March
Past and adding the Hamilton Harty arrangement
of Londonderry Air is one thing but
to add John Field’s Rondo in A flat
(originally for Piano Quintet) in this
Philip Lane arrangement for piano and
orchestra might be taken as a whimsicality
too far. Surrounding them is the meat
of the disc and they offer richer rewards,
no matter how well the staples are played
– and I don’t discount the espressivo
string playing in the Walford Davies,
or the fine harp and solo violin playing
in the Harty, much less Alan MacLean’s
handling of the Field. I’ve enjoyed
Gareth Glyn’s atmospheric work before.
Here his 1984 suite, Legend of the Lake,
has been recently revised and its five
movements are, as ever, full of clever
touches. He moves from jolly 30s style
– light, bright – to the tense, brittle
Shostakovich influenced trumpet and
percussion Manhunt with plenty
of well-orchestrated lyricism on show
as well. Iain Hamilton’s Overture 1912
is a homage to Dan Leno, hero of the
Halls, and is an impressionistic take
on the milieu quoting perkily throughout;
there’s Arnoldian wit here as well as
an admixture of playful mordancy and
the muted brass garnishes this affectionate
tribute.
David Fanshawe’s music
for Tarka fuses lyric relaxation with
apposite tension and his Serenata is
a delight. Slaski’s Frank Lloyd Wright
Suite is the longest work here,
a four-movement suite dedicated to the
architect and each evoking a particular
building. Thus Slaski conjures up rippling
and glittering waterfalls and jazzy
chic laced with impressionistic shimmer
or else, in Wingspread, the final movement
conjures a solo violin, ever ascending,
decorative harp, fine orchestration
and a twilit clarinet – fine chiaroscuro.
Despite the differing
origins of the performances the sound
quality remains even across the disc;
not really opulent but attractive. Plenty
of good nuggets here – but what a weird
piece of programming.
Jonathan Woolf
Robert Gibbs (violin)* 