I first encountered
the music of Rupert Bawden some years
ago, although the reasons for his apparent
prolonged periods of absence from the
musical scene were unknown to me until
I read the sleeve-notes for this CD.
Bawden’s career has been a varied one,
both in terms of musical and non-musical
activity. Composer, conductor, professional
violinist and violist, local politician
(he has been active as a councillor
in the London Borough of Lambeth) and
perhaps most surprising of all, paramedic.
His tale of refusing a dinner invitation
following a concert he shared with Michael
Berkeley due to an impending night shift
with the London Ambulance Service is
an endearing one!
Bawden further states
in his booklet interview that he is
not composing at the moment and this
seems to typify the sporadic nature
of his working patterns. Pieces are
written as commissions present themselves,
often under considerable time pressure
(upon which he clearly thrives) and
with little apparent continuity.
During his student
years a period of study at Cambridge
University brought Bawden into contact
with Robin Holloway who remains the
only composition teacher with whom he
has studied. Perhaps not surprisingly
then there are moments when Bawden’s
work does bear comparison with that
of his teacher and mentor. There are
certainly occasional passages of lush,
even romantic, harmonic orientation
alongside the more adventurous side
of his creative nature, yet the music
never descends into an abyss of dissonance.
Rather there is a sense of refinement
evident in the transparency of the scoring
and the feeling that every note has
its place and purpose.
The Two Studies
(which bear the titles Prelude
and The Flour on the Floor) are
closely related to Bawden’s ballet Le
Livre de Fauvel and were intended
as preliminary studies for a projected
further ballet that has not yet come
to fruition. The first is almost fragile
in its dream-like sound-world, the dynamic
largely subdued apart from a brief central
climax. The second grows naturally out
of the first and Bawden once again creates
an affecting soundscape, similarly restrained
but this time punctuated by passages
of slightly greater animation. The recording
captures the BBCNOW and Bawden’s beautifully
crafted orchestration well. The composer
directs.
The Donkey Dances
is the third work that Bawden has written
for the Nash Ensemble and is again related
to the literary donkey of his earlier
ballet Le Livre de Fauvel. The
scoring for ensemble includes an accordion,
something the composer describes as
a ‘great treat’. Comprising three brief
dances, the first is described by Bawden
as "a sparringly seductive dance
with the goddess Fortuna". After
a slow central dance to the vice of
Vain Glory the final dance, Grande
Valse, depicts the marriage of Fortuna
and the donkey Fauvel, the music gradually
gathering in pace and animation to a
breathlessly manic conclusion. Once
again Bawden demonstrates a finely-tuned
ear for instrumental colour and texture
with luminous scoring and an adventurous
yet never harshly astringent harmonic
palette.
The origins of the
chamber opera, The Sailor’s Tale,
lie in an education project commissioned
by The Yorke Trust for the 2002 annual
summer opera course held in Creake,
Norfolk. The libretto, by Kevin Crossley-Holland,
who has also worked with Nicola Lefanu,
is split into ten short scenes and tells
of Horatio Nelson’s life via a series
of recollections and reminiscences.
Bawden employs a seven-piece ensemble
with the two soloists doubling in their
roles as Nelson himself, Nelson’s wife
Fanny and father the Reverend Edmund,
Lady Emma Hamilton and her husband Sir
William. In addition there are numerous
spoken parts taken by children. This
is Bawden’s first foray into opera,
albeit on a modest scale, but proves
to be an entertaining and creditable
debut. The performers acquit themselves
well with Andrew Heggie and Flora McIntosh
both proving effective in the five principal
roles. It is a shame that the sung libretto
deviates so frequently from the written
version reproduced in the booklet, a
most off-putting and annoying point
that hampers enjoyable listening at
times.
Beasts of the Sea
is a novelty children’s song, originally
one of several written by Bawden and
Crossley-Holland at the same time as
the opera and inserted between Scenes
five and six in live performance. In
the form of a rumba, it forms a lighthearted
if perhaps uncharacteristic conclusion
to the disc.
NMC have here once
again provided a worthwhile introduction
to a versatile and clearly talented
composer. It would be good to hear more
of the serious side of his work.
Christopher Thomas
BBC National Orchestra of Wales/Rupert Bawden
(Two Studies) 
