This is the sixth
and – we are told in the introductory note by Michael Berkeley
– the last in the Berkeley family edition. The series has concentrated
on orchestral music and, though I’ve only caught a couple of
the previous discs, has been a more than worthwhile enterprise.
It’s a pretty unique situation in recent times - or many others,
for that matter - for father and son to turn out respected and
successful composers and all the pieces on this final disc are
very enjoyable.
The main work here
as far as Michael is concerned is undoubtedly the premiere recording
of the Concerto for Orchestra, subtitled ‘Seascape’.
As he points out, the sea has influenced the Berkeley family
in some form or another for many years, whether it be the navy,
childhood holidays or Michael working as a boatman on the Norfolk
coast. A brilliant introductory flourish recalls Stravinsky
or, more latterly, one of Berkeley’s mentors Oliver Knussen.
The first of the three movements remains restless, energetic,
buoyantly uneasy, full of what the composer refers to as ‘wave-like
propulsion’. It’s immensely engaging and not too dissonant,
with thematic invention seeming, to me, to be subordinated to
textural colour. Berkeley refers to the outer movements as having
a ‘gaudy, scherzo-like character’ which is exactly what comes
over. The central movement is the heart of the work and has
another subtitle, ‘Threnody for a Sad Trumpet. In Memoriam J.A’,
referring to his friend and arts campaigner Jane Attenborough,
who died in the Boxing Day tsunami in 2004, as Berkeley was
working on this very section. This elegy is for her and the
thousands of others who lost their lives to the power of the
sea that day. As BBC NOW principal Philippe Schartz’s trumpet
sings its sad lament over restful, gently dissonant strings,
one’s thoughts turn perhaps to this movement’s spiritual ancestor,
Ives’s ‘Unanswered Question’. The finale (marked ‘fiery’) takes
us back to the restlessness of the opening, and this time the
mood darkens considerably, the Tippett-like woodwind chattering
away over snarling brass. There is a grand, chordal climax at
6:43 where the marking is maestoso. The full orchestra
is resplendently joined by organ, keeping the work again in
its English line, before we move to a disquieting close in C
sharp minor, where the gently overlapping, descending scales
echo another appropriate model, Pärt’s ‘Cantus In Memoriam Benjamin
Britten’.
The work was premiered
at the 2005 Prom by the forces here. Its dedicatee, Richard
Hickox conducts his excellent orchestra with great vitality.
It really is an immensely colourful and engaging piece which
I hope gets future outings.
The other Michael
Berkeley piece, Gregorian Variations, is from over twenty
years earlier – and it shows. The thin, rather quaint material
– basically bits of modal plainchant – is subjected to a series
of lively and easy-on-the-ear variations which are again very
skilfully orchestrated but lack the weight and memorable quality
of the Concerto. Still, well worth having on the disc as a filler,
especially for the jazzier moments.
The rest of the
CD is devoted to Berkeley senior’s Double Piano Concerto,
a half-hour piece originally written for Cyril Smith and Phyllis
Sellick. This is not its first recording - that honour goes,
inevitably, to Lyrita
- but it’s difficult to imagine much more persuasive advocacy.
More than one commentator has mentioned Beethoven as one model
here, and I agree that the Piano Sonata Op.111’s structure may
well have been in the composer’s mind, given the short, terse
first movement followed by a long, theme and variation second
movement. The rather angular opening thematic material and spiky
piano writing does recall Britten - and even Bartók - in places,
but it’s a colourful, inventive and enjoyable work. Of the eleven
variations, which are banded separately here, I particularly
like the 2nd - shades of the Sea Interludes - the adagio 4th
and 8-10, which alternate pianos only – orchestra only – pianos
only, a nice idea and typical of Berkeley’s inventiveness. Even
though it’s quite hard to hear father/son musical links in these
works, it’s very easy to hear where Berkeley junior got his
ear for orchestral colour, detail and sheer old-fashioned craftsmanship.
I haven’t heard
the Lyrita, though it’s bound to be good, but the excellent
playing and superb audio quality make this present disc a real
winner. The Concerto for Orchestra makes for perfect ‘approachable
modernity’, and is a real find for me. A big thumbs up it is
– and let’s hope it isn’t the last one, after all.
Tony Haywood
Kathryn Stott, Howard
Shelley (pianos)
