It was through the
Lyrita LP containing the Sixth and Sixteenth
Symphonies of Havergal Brian, together
with Sir Charles Groves’ recordings
of the Eighth and Ninth, that I first
became acquainted with the music of
this remarkable but often difficult
composer. Nowadays we have a good deal
more of his output available through
recordings and a rounder picture of
the man and his music has emerged but
these pioneering accounts still have
a proud place in the Brian discography.
The Sixth is one of
Brian’s more approachable symphonic
works, perhaps because it began life
as the prelude to an aborted opera,
an intended setting based on Synge’s
Deirdre of the Sorrows.
Calum MacDonald’s quite superb note
describes the music and its progression
wonderfully, drawing the listener in
just as much as do the performers. The
second time I listened I found that
I could identify quite easily from MacDonald’s
lucid description the various sections
of the single movement work – actually,
it’s more like three movements played
continuously - and I marked the timings
in pencil in the booklet for future
reference. Exactly the same thing was
possible with the Sixteenth Symphony
so MacDonald’s notes fully justify the
expression ‘a model of their kind’.
The performance of
the Sixth is tremendously vivid and
involving. I can’t imagine that either
Myer Fredman or the members of the LPO
were familiar with the score prior to
the recording sessions yet so far as
I could tell without a score, the playing
has splendid assurance and it sounds
accurate and convincing. In the early
stretches of the work Brian’s exploration
of the lower reaches of the orchestra
is especially telling, as is his use
of percussion. Later on (at 6:48) there’s
a memorable theme for cor anglais that
launches what is, effectively, the slow
movement. But even more ingratiating
is the violin melody at 7:34. For anyone
who thinks of Brian as just a gruff,
dissonant musical curmudgeon, these
pages will be a real ear-opener. This
middle section is quite extended but
eventually irate brass and percussion
dispel the lyrical mood and the violent,
acerbic finale erupts (14:12). This
rises to a huge climax before a Bax-like
epilogue (17:52) in which a desolate
cor anglais has a leading role. The
music dies away, underpinned by a gong
and gently pounding drums. It’s a most
impressive work, impressively performed.
The Sixteenth, composed
between June and August 1960, is a tougher
proposition. It doesn’t have the melodic
immediacy of number Six so it rather
lacks the obvious points of reference
that a newcomer to any complex piece
of music needs. This is where the value
of Calum MacDonald’s notes is really
felt. The work is scored for a huge
orchestra, including no less than ten
percussionists. Like the Sixth the work
plays continuously but six short sections
can be identified.
Calum MacDonald aptly
describes the first of these as "a
reluctant dawn". It’s followed
by a more belligerent episode that achieves
a massive climax. The third section
is extremely varied and Brian’s use
of his orchestral palette is most resourceful.
After a mysterious and melancholy passage
and a pell-mell, virtuoso ‘anti-fugue’
we come to the sixth and final section.
This rises to a climax (around 16:42),
which dwarfs everything that has gone
before it. This is difficult music to
hear and it’s also difficult music to
love – but I doubt Brian intended that
we should. However, it’s much less daunting
than might once have been the case,
I think, not least because Brian’s music
is more familiar than when this recording
was first issued. Myer Fredman and the
LPO are, once again, splendid and committed
advocates.
The Brian symphonies
originally appeared together on LP.
For this CD issue Arnold Cooke’s Third
Symphony has been added. It’s an intriguing
partner for the Brian symphonies but
I think it works. I hadn’t heard the
work before.
The first of its three
movements is an Allegro energico
in which the choice of the second word
is aptly justified. The music is brisk
and often redolent of Cooke’s one-time
teacher, Hindemith. The lines are much
cleaner than Brian’s. In this performance
the music is strongly projected but
whereas Brian’s writing is nothing if
not passionate I found Cooke’s music
to be much less emotionally engaging.
The slow movement,
which is much the longest, opens with
an atmospheric melody of genuine breadth
played by a solo clarinet. This idea
is taken up by other wind instruments
and forms the basis of much of what
is to follow. The contrast between Cooke
and Brian is enormous – but also very
stimulating to the listener. Cooke displays
a certain coolness and detachment, I
feel, whereas Brian’s music often sounds
to be torn out of him. I don’t say that
one is therefore better than the other
– the composers inhabit two very different
worlds - but comparison and contrast
is inevitable when their symphonies
are juxtaposed as they are here.
The finale is, once
again, energetic and strongly rhythmical.
Yet again one can’t help but think of
Hindemith. Nicholas Braithwaite and
the LPO perform the whole symphony with
assurance and commitment. How do I feel
after my encounter with this symphony?
I don’t believe that I’ve been entertained;
the music is too serious for that. But
then, I don’t feel that I’ve been stirred;
the detachment that I mentioned earlier
saw to that. It’s an interesting work
that I’m glad to have heard, especially
in such a good performance, but I suspect
I’ll find myself more compelled to return
to Brian’s darker creations. It was
fascinating to compare the two composers’
music but it was just as interesting
to compare and contrast the respective
booklet notes. Hugo Cole contributes
a rather strait laced analysis of the
Cooke symphony. Whilst technically excellent,
no doubt, it didn’t draw me in to the
music. Phrases such as Calum MacDonald’s
"shadowy, haunted country of the
mind" (of Brian’s Sixth) have no
place in Cole’s style and I wondered
if I might have enjoyed the Brian less
and the Cooke more if the annotators
had been, as it were, reversed. Perhaps.
Be that as it may,
there’s some marvellous music making
on this well-filled CD and all three
fine performances are presented in outstanding
analogue sound. You’re very unlikely
to encounter any of these works in the
concert hall so I’d advise any adventurous
collector to add this splendid CD to
your collection without delay.
John Quinn
See also review by Rob
Barnett
London PO/Myer Fredman (Brian); Nicholas
Braithwaite (Cooke) 
