It has been a thrilling
experience getting to know these symphonies.
Though I’ve always been an admirer of
Rawsthorne and thought him much underrated,
I blush to confess that, other than
a single live hearing of No. 2 many
years ago, these fine works were completely
unknown to me. I urge lovers of English
music to hurry out and get this CD,
because it makes fascinating listening,
and these meticulously prepared performances
by David Lloyd-Jones and the BSO (leader
David Nolan) do full justice to the
music.
As you can see from
the dates above, the symphonies do not
span a large period of Rawsthorne’s
career – just fourteen years, when,
however, he was at the height of his
powers. Unexpectedly, the opening of
Symphony no.1 of 1950 made me think
immediately of Carl Nielsen – in the
Espansiva or Inextinguishable
– in the way that we are plunged impetuously
into the thick of the action. However,
the voice is Rawsthorne’s own; very
soon one becomes alert to those characteristic
touches of harmony, melody and orchestration
that make him so distinctive.
The Second Symphony’s
subtitle ‘A Pastoral Symphony’ inevitably
brings thoughts of Vaughan Williams
to mind. But beware, because
temperamentally, the two composers had
little in common. Yes they strikingly
share a soprano soloist in the finale,
and have also in common that the pastoral
nature of the music is compromised by
a sense of unease. But Rawsthorne’s
language is far more chromatic and angular,
and there is little of the folk-melody
derived use of modes that we find in
the older writer. The fine poco lento
second movement broods on clashing
major/minor tonalities, while its central
section has a deceptively naïve
melody (incorporating the major/minor
dichotomy) reminiscent of Prokofiev.
The mood lightens with
the Country Dance of the third
movement – echoes of Street Corner
overture here – but the finale reverts
to something more thoughtful, with its
sensitive setting of Henry Howard’s
poem about the arrival of summer. Tellingly,
Rawsthorne frames the soprano’s delicate
solo with music of profound melancholy,
matching the poet’s final line, "Each
care decays, and yet my sorrow springs".
This ambivalent music is perfectly captured
in Charlotte Ellett’s singing.
The Third Symphony
is easily the most progressive in terms
of its language. The composer employs
serial techniques to organise and develop
his material, and the orchestration
is often startlingly original. The fragmentation
and unpredictability of the first movement
is countered by the obsessive quality
of the superb Alla sarabanda, which
never gives up its insistence on the
note F. The shadowy scherzo and the
explosively rhythmical finale complete
what is an exceptionally powerful symphonic
statement.
I sincerely hope that
this CD will help to trigger a reappraisal
by audiences and concert planners of
this individual and, at present, unjustly
neglected composer. Congratulations
to all involved in an important project,
and grateful thanks to the Rawsthorne
Trust for helping to make it possible
(if you want to find out more about
their work, do have a look at www.musicweb-international.com/rawsth/index.htm).
Gwyn Parry-Jones
see
also review by Em Marshall
Charlotte Ellett (soprano) 
