I have to admit to this being the disc I have most eagerly awaited
hearing for some months. That being the case I am delighted
to be able to report that it has fulfilled all my expectations
if not exceeded them – let us all hope that the titling of this
as ‘Volume 1’ really does augur well for an extended series
of discs by this unique composer.
In recent years there has been a steady trickle of Brian’s orchestral
works appearing on CD but when you dig a little deeper it becomes
clear that these are in effect re-releases of performances where
the originals date back some years. So in fact it is nearly
ten years since the last ‘new’ recording – Psalm 23 on
ClassicO [recorded 2002], then back into the 1990s for the abortive
Marco Polo/Naxos ‘Brian Cycle’ (review;
review,
review),
the 1980s for EMI’s brief flurry of interest using the RLPO
(review),
and the 1970s for the Leicestershire and Hull Schools Symphony
Orchestra’s brave traversal of several discs with Unicorn-Kanchana
and CBS. This is by no means a complete survey but it gives
you a sense of the piece-meal attempts to commit Brian to disc.
Toccata Classics are proving to be valiant disciples of the
Brian cause both on disc and in print. Recently I had the pleasure
of reviewing the superb Havergal Brian on Music: Volume Two
which Toccata have published (review).
Both that project and this have been instigated under the watchful
eye and guiding hand of the Havergal Brian Society and Brian
expert Malcolm MacDonald. As part of the book review I commented
- has ever a composer been so fortunate in their biographer
/ promoter as Brian with MacDonald? His knowledge, insight and
understanding of this shamelessly idiosyncratic composer is
little short of stupendous. That sense of dedication suffuses
every element of this recording from the fascinating choice
of repertoire on this well programmed CD to the fine engineering
supporting excellent playing from the BBC Scottish Symphony
Orchestra.
I have to admit that I have not heard any of this music before
so I have no frame of reference with which to compare the current
performances. Suffice to say there is an air of ‘rightness’
and conviction that is vital to bringing off this often quirky
music. Having read the two volumes of Brian’s critical writings
has only increased my appreciation of him as a composer. I have
a suspicion that even among his more famous composer contemporaries
he was the most knowledgeable about the latest developments
in the musical scene. His journalistic writing shows him as
an enthusiastic supporter of an extraordinarily wide and diverse
range of then contemporary music. This, to my mind, adds significantly
to his stature as a composer in his own right for instead of
producing a mish-mash of musical influences his own work remains
strikingly independent. It is well-known that he was largely
self-taught as a composer but the choices he makes; structurally,
harmonically or melodically are never made through ignorance
instead they are guided by a quirky individualism. And therein
lies the rub for the listener new to his sound-world; it can
often seem that musical material is juxtaposed in a random and
almost obtuse manner. Here is where Malcolm MacDonald proves
to be such a valuable guide. Whether in this liner or in his
definitive 3 volume study of the Brian Symphonies he makes it
clear that in what might initially seem ramshackle and even
chaotic there is actually a very sophisticated control of form
and structure. Brian is dancing to a different tune and it can
take the listener some time to ‘hear’ his message. Conductor
Garry Walker has become fully attuned to the Brian idiom. As
mentioned before these are strikingly confident and convincing
performances – orchestras are phenomenally skilled these days
but to project such security and conviction as is heard throughout
this disc requires those exact same qualities to be projected
from the conductor’s podium. It is rare indeed that such complex
and demanding music is first heard played as here and it adds
considerably to the positive impact of the disc. On the evidence
of this disc Walker proves himself to be an interpreter of distinction.
Another remarkable thought is the fact that the works performed
here span an astonishing 65 years. The earliest work is the
1903 Burlesque Variations on an Original Theme. Never
performed in Brian’s lifetime this is its first professional
performance. But why? Some Brian can be tough to digest on first
sitting but not this work – it has instant appeal. Written when
Brian was 27 it represents his first effort at large-scale orchestral
composition. He scored the work for a large romantic orchestra
with triple wind, standard brass – but including four trumpets
– extended percussion, two harps and organ. Lasting some twenty-five
minutes and consisting of a theme and seven variations this
is a well balanced and fascinatingly wide-ranging piece. Yes
there are moments where the orchestration feels opaque and indeed
clumsy but these are repeatedly offset by passages of remarkable
power, mystery and beauty. Why Burlesque Variations?
– MacDonald offers a fascinating opinion; variation form recurs
often in Brian’s works and usually he chose to take a banal/simple
tune and then expand the seemingly limited potential of that
melody beyond all expectation. Hence the Fantastic Variations
of 1907 – based on ‘Three Blind Mice’ or The Symphonic
Variations of 1916 – based on ‘Has anybody here seen Kelly?’
are just two examples. It is as if Brian is trying a kind of
alchemy transforming the base material of a simple song into
musical gold. Yes, the influences are often clearer here than
in later Brian and clearly Elgar provided a model but I am pushed
to think of any other work by a twenty-seven year old British
composer from around the turn of that century of such confident
quality. Although I know others will disagree I find Josef Holbrooke’s
music to have an empty bombast and reliance on musical effect
to which Brian never resorts while York Bowen is interesting
and appealing but never challenging in the way Brian is. The
closing pages of these variations do try to lift the simple
tune onto a grandiose level which is beyond both the melody
and the composer (at this stage in his career) but elsewhere
there are brilliantly achieved musico-dramatic effects. Try
Variation 2 – Tempesto and the simply gorgeously poignant
Variation 3 – Elegy that follows. The latter is the emotional
heart of the work and opens as a gently regretful valse triste
very much in the style of the Nedbal or Sibelius works of
that name before building to a powerful strenuous climax way
outside the remit of those pieces. The return to the reflective
opening is typical Brian in the rapid change of emotional direction
before he builds it back to a climax of cinematic splendour.
Subtle it is not but hard the heart not to be moved on some
level – I love it. Curiously the London publisher Bosworth published
the suite which contains Nedbal’s work in 1903 and it became
the composer’s biggest hit. But the similarity is one of form
nothing more. But it does point up another fact worth considering
here; Brian’s music never sounds “English” in the pastoral sense
of the word. More ‘stout and steaky’ than ‘cowpat’.
Chronologically, the next work on the disc dates from exactly
fifty years later. How typically perverse of Brian in austerity
Britain to produce a work that by title alone would seem to
belong to the light music world of Edward German or Percy Fletcher.
For sure this is lighter music than much of Brian’s output but
it has far more substance and muscle than the bulk of the light
music repertoire. Not that it is at all in tune with the prevailing
trends in 1950s contemporary music either. Again, one has the
abiding sense of Brian writing music that suited himself when
it suited him. This proves to be another piece of instant appeal
with the heart of the work being the second movement Reverie.
Throughout the whole work and the orchestral writing – angularly
expressive but with awkward parts for solo instruments and some
thrilling brass scoring – there is a scale and sweep that is
very impressive. Clearly this is not meant to be a work uttering
the profoundest thoughts and feelings of the composer but it
does show the confidence and expertise with which Brian handled
his resources. I would suggest ignoring the titles – I couldn’t
help wondering if Brian has used such deliberately twee and
diminutive headings in a provocative and ironic manner. Here
is another curious parallel – the central pair of movements
are scored first for strings alone – the aforementioned Reverie,
and then wind and horns - Restless Stream. Vaughan Williams
did much the same in his almost exactly contemporaneous Symphony
No.8 – although the wind scherzo comes first before the
string Cavatina. Not that we can accuse Vaughan Williams
of any kind of plagiarism – Brian’s Suite was not to be heard
for twenty years (neither can the accusation be reversed – the
Vaughan Williams was not premiered until 1956). The closing
Village Revels is also the final music on the disc –
again ignore the title, this is quite unlike any revel I can
imagine but it provides an exciting conclusion to all the works
here.
MacDonald explains Brian’s recurring use of the term Elegy
to describe movements or individual works. This was the title
ultimately given to a 1954 composition originally called A
song of sorrow. Brian renamed it some sixteen years later
when reassessing his back catalogue with a view to publication.
The rationale being that the original title implied a kind of
emotional one-dimension that does not encompass the full range
of this very impressive work. MacDonald points towards a definition
that encompasses both the classical laments of Ovid and the
romantic poetic works of Goethe and others. As a critic Brian
wrote enthusiastically about Busoni and MacDonald sees a link
with such works as that composer’s Nocturne Symphonique or
the Sarabande and Cortege. But influence or inspiration
is all this link should be seen as. Again Brian has produced
a work as striking in its individuality as its expressive power.
Jagged and rugged energy courses through this work. There are
more of the typical Brian Symphonic fingerprints here, a sense
of a restless quest the music searching and unstable. Yet at
the same time there is an underlying feel of something grand
and ceremonial. MacDonald sees it as a long slow struggle from
C minor to the light of C major. Elsewhere on the disc I am
a little uneasy about Brian’s penchant for almost hyper-active
percussion writing. By my reckoning the percussion should point
a moment in the score – dynamic alone need not be a factor –
for Brian there seems to be a percussive ‘happening’ in nearly
every bar. But here, massed side-drums set against tip-toeing
xylophone creates some rather special effects. Again I have
nothing but praise for the bravura confidence of the playing
of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. There is some truly
thrilling brass writing here dispatched with total aplomb. Much
as I enjoy the discovery of the Variations on this disc if I
had to choose one work to represent Brian it would be this Elegy.
As this represents its first recording I would suggest that
that alone is enough to merit buying this disc.
My only relative musical disappointment on this disc was with
the Legend: Ave atque vale which opens it. In its own
right it is remarkable because it is the work of a ninety two
year old man. The title which means ‘hail and farewell’ is taken
from Catallus’ poetic elegy to his drowned brother written in
about 56 BC. MacDonald describes it as being ‘crammed to bursting
point with disparate ideas’ which is a sympathetic way of saying
perhaps it has not been edited or structured with as much discipline
as earlier works. To my ear – given that this is NOT a judgment
borne of extended familiarity – it sounds too rambling and disparate
in its elements. Here the percussion has an absolute field day
throughout without really justifying their continuous presence
in musical terms. Possibly this is the kind of work that Brian’s
detractors might single out as showing his weaknesses. However,
it has the great good sense not to outstay its welcome and by
representing just seven minutes of over an hour of vintage Brian
no collector need hesitate on this piece’s account. On a positive
note it does act as an extraordinary tribute to the undying
vitality and individuality of Brian to very end of his long
life.
Hopefully, it will be clear by now that I consider this a very
special disc – exactly the kind of high quality combination
of rare repertoire, performance and technical presentation that
collectors hope for. For those as yet unfamiliar with the Havergal
Brian I think this could act as an excellent introduction. On
the recent Testament release (review)
of the famous Boult/BBC performance of Brian’s legendary Gothic
Symphony the disc concludes with an interview with the composer
where he underlines the fact that he wrote music with little
or no expectation of hearing it performed. Instead he was responding
a personal creative imperative that could not be denied. How
gratified he would be to know that finally his music is beginning
to receive the attention is deserves. A Volume 2 from this same
team is essential and this current disc will be one of my discs
of the year without doubt.
Nick Barnard
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra/Garry Walker 
