Here is the ideal introduction
to the music of Edmund Rubbra. The Third
and Fourth symphonies (fine works, both)
sandwich two shorter, but still impressive,
orchestral works.
Robert Layton provides
a sterling example of a programme note.
As he quite rightly says, ‘Edmund Rubbra
belongs to the same generation of English
composers as William Walton and Michael
Tippett … but has never enjoyed the
same measure of exposure’. Perhaps bringing
these Lyrita discs once more to the
public’s attention will do something
to rectify the situation.
The Third Symphony
is quite a lean work in terms of orchestration.
It also breathes a dignity that is most
compelling. It is fairly unremittingly
serious in both demeanour and in intensely
controlled thematic workings. The intensity
reaches its height in the ‘Molto adagio
ma liberamente’ slow movement, a statement
of real depth, and one that inspires
Del Mar and his orchestra to great things.
If the title of the finale sounds forbidding
– ‘Tema con 7 variazioni e una Fuga’
– it is not all so (there is even a
passage that trips along nicely until
interrupted by darker shades). The closing
pages are marked by a rugged determination.
Of course, 1939 was the year that marked
the beginning of the Second World War,
and it is not difficult to read echoes
of these events into the more intense
passages of this symphony..
The Fourth Symphony
opens with a feeling of peace (now,
of course, quite removed from external
events – it was written in 1942). The
work is in three movements, although
the extended Introduzione to the last
movement is banded separately by Lyrita
because of its length (4’50). Robert
Layton talks of ‘serenity, a remarkable
stillness and an inner repose’ and this
just about sums it up. The music of
the first movement seems to pulsate
welcomingly. The Intermezzo second movement
is pure delight (its marking is ‘Allegretto
grazioso sempre delicato’), especially
when played with as much affection as
on this Lyrita recording. The clouds
of the ‘Introduzione’ to the final movement
are magnificently evocative here (the
well-balanced recording helps, preserving
the depth of the shadowy strings), while
the movement proper (‘Allegro maestoso’)
has a noble dignity (it is more immediately
identifiable as ‘English’ than some
music by this composer). It does, however,
carry the inimitable stamp of Rubbra’s
compelling harmonic language.
The Overture, Resurgam,
was inspired by the bombing of Plymouth
in March 1941. The Overture was written
in 1975 on a commission from the Plymouth
Symphony Orchestra to commemorate its
centenary. The title comes from a word
(Resurgam) inscribed on the tower of
the church of St Andrew (the only part
left standing after the bombing). Resurgam
begins very quietly and delicately.
Although only eight minutes long, it
is very serious in its intense scoring
and in its density of ideas (Rubbra
also uses a more acidic language than
in the Third Symphony, heard first on
the disc). Finally, A Tribute,
Op. 56 (originally entitled ‘Introduzione
e danza alla fuga’) begins in the most
tender of fashions. Del Mar’s balancing
of orchestra textures is revelatory
in the introduction, while the ‘danza
alla fuga’ is fascinating. It begins
rather stealthily, but never releases
its dance origins. The tribute is actually
to Ralph Vaughan Williams (in honour
of that composer’s seventieth birthday),
although there appears to be no direct
musical allusion.
A fascinating disc,
then. Rubbra’s music reveals more and
more on repeated hearings – facile is
the one thing it is not.
Colin Clarke
see Edmund
Rubbra
The
Lyrita catalogue
Philharmonia Orchestra/Norman Del Mar. 
