According to the excellent liner-notes by John Purser, this
present volume of ‘Music for Piano’ by Erik Chisholm is likely
to be the last. He writes that unless ‘current research work
uncovers sufficient previously unknown material... [which] at
present seems extremely unlikely,’ there will not be an eighth
volume. It is a job well done. I have had the pleasure of reviewing
all previous releases of this series and have been struck by
the vitality, technical competence and sheer ‘enjoyability’
of virtually every work presented. The seventh volume is designed
to tidy up a few loose ends. Purser suggests that this disc
ought to be listened to ‘within the context of the whole series.’
And he is correct. I guess it is unlikely that many people will
set off on their exploration of Chisholm’s piano music with
this CD. Most of the pieces on this disc are ‘light’ music –
with the exception of the Elegies and the Fourth Sonatina.
However, that does not mean that the other works are unworthy
of our attention or lack inspiration and sheer musicality.
The most important pieces on this CD must be the five Elegies
with which the CD opens. These are dark introspective numbers
that reveal the pianistic style of Erik Chisholm at his very
best. Most of these elegies are derived from tunes which the
composer had found in a variety of ‘song books’ such as the
Reverend Patrick MacDonald’s Collection of Highland Vocal
Airs. However it is important to emphasise that these are
not direct transcriptions of the tunes; nor are they simply
arrangements or variations. This is not a pastiche of highlan’
music designed to portray a sentimentalised view of the people
and places of Scotland. Chisholm’s music is manifestly influenced
by his native musical sounds and rhythms, but the resultant
can only be defined as a part of the Western tradition of both
Schoenberg and Bartók. A note on the Chisholm Website explains
this well – ‘He is also alone in his attempt to infuse into
symphonic structure the forms of Celtic music-lore (e.g. the
pibroch) as distinct from the introduction into present-day
forms of merely discursive Celtic atmosphere.’ These five elegies
display this ‘symphonic structure’ in spite of their short duration.
When I first came across Erik Chisholm’s music I read somewhere
that he had composed a Peter Pan Suite. Alas, as each
CD was issued, this work appeared to be missing. However all
things comes to he (or she) who waits.
The Suite was composed in London during 1924, which was some
20 years after James Matthew Barrie’s children’s classic was
first published as a stage production. Many people have tried
to get to the bottom of this timeless classic and analyses abound.
However, it needs neither Freud nor Jung to enjoy the story,
save to say that the underlying themes would appear to be a
‘conflict between the innocence of childhood and the responsibility
Erik Chisholm’s Suite is divided into five attractive, but rather
concise movements. All the key players from Peter Pan and
Wendy are incorporated into the music. From the capricious
Peter himself, to the will o’ the wisp Tinker Bell, the lugubrious
Crocodile, the more complex than would at first appear ‘Wendy’
theme. Finally, Captain Hook is portrayed by something a little
There is nothing particularly difficult (aurally) about this
music; however it fair to say that it is an adult’s appreciation
of the childhood story. Chisholm never indulges in sentimentality
The Sonatina No.4 is a different story. Part of a series of
works entitled E Praeterita (From the Past) is is one
of six such pieces. [For the connoisseur, Nos. 1 and 2 are given
in Volume 3, No.3 on Volume 4 and Nos. 5 and 6 on Volume 5 of
Only one movement is included of this three movement work: one
has been lost and another has reappeared as ‘The Jew’s Dance’
in the Fifth Sonatina. John Purser suggests that this surviving
first movement is effectively a transcription of a lute-dance
by Hans Neusiedler (1508-1563). However in Chisholm’s hands
the music transcends time and becomes an exciting work that
almost defies categorisation. It was completed in 1947.
The Three Suites presented here are attractive and enjoyable,
but they are not in the composer’s typical style. However they
differ from much salon music in their ‘spareness’ of texture,
their lack of cliché and their harmonic subtlety. Listen to
them one at a time.
The First Suite is in five ‘conventionally’ named movements.
It opens with a ‘Caprice ‘that is full of light and sunshine.
Yet even here there is a depth and modernity of language that
would not be found in a similar suite by Montague Ewing or Haydn
Wood. The Feuillet d’album (Leafs from an Album) is a
diverse little piece that explores a variety of moods and pianistic
formula. The Scherzo is a chipper number that ‘exploits [the]
rapid alteration of hands.’ Certainly it sounds a bit tricky
to my ear. The ‘waltz’ is probably quite typical of the genre:
pleasant but nothing more. Finally, the ‘Moto Perpetuo’ brings
the Suite to an exciting conclusion.
To my ear there is nothing of ‘persiflage’ about the Second
Suite: it may be fun, but it is never trivial. The first movement
is a complex, involved piece that belies the playful nature
of some of the passages and the the use of a nursery tune at
the conclusion. The second movement, a Caprice is played ‘allegro
scherzando’. This is an intense scherzo that has a wide variety
of moods and a certain hard edge that denies the concept of
a ‘musical joke.’ The next movement is funny: it is based on
Euphemia Allen’s universally known chopsticks, which are subject
to a number of ‘petite’ variations. However even here there
is an edginess that ensures the listener does not dismiss this
as nugatory. The ‘Intermezzo’ is a trippy little piece that
nods towards the salon. John Purser suggests that it appears
to be ‘an exercise in simple pianism [rather] than an inspired
piece of music’. He suggests a little editing may have done
it a power of good. The final ‘Jig’ is complex and ‘fluent’
however it is not a ‘bucolic’ example so popular with composers
of light music. It is an astringent piece of music.
The Third Suite is entitled ‘Ballet’. This is brittle, often
staccato music that is hard to pin down. Purser has noted the
cross-rhythms and the ‘quirky changes of pace.’ Yet it is quite
definitely ‘dance’ music – one cannot listen to this without
the mind’s eye seeing it interpreted by a dancer. One recalls
Chisholm’s commitment to ballet – The Hoodie Craw and
The Forsaken Merman being two important scores. The present
Third Suite is often romantic in a fugitive sort of manner –
but the abiding impression is of quicksilver. Puck or Robin
Goodfellow is a likely inspiration.
John Purser sums this CD up very well when he notes that ‘we
leave Chisholm’s music then, not with any grand gestures, modernist
assertions, Scottish determination or lyricism, but with unaffected,
easy-going and undemanding pleasures...’
I have noted before the great commitment that the pianist Murray
McLachlan has made to this cycle of seven CDs – as well as other
recordings of Erik Chisholm’s music. It is a major achievement
that deserves to be lauded. The liner-notes by John Purser are
essential reading, for apart from that author’s excellent monograph
on the composer, there is little information about the man and
his music that is easily available. The sound recording is superb
and benefits from the sympathetic acoustic of the Whiteley Hall,
Chetham’s School of Music, Manchester. One minor criticism:
I would have liked to see the dates for all these pieces given,
however it may well be that they are not yet definitively established.
Finally two things need to be said. Firstly, this is the
authoritative edition of Erik Chisholm’s music. I cannot imagine
another cycle of this piano music being recorded in my remaining
lifetime. We are fortunate to have such an exemplary production
as that which Divine Art has provided for the listener over
the past few years. And, secondly, it is hardly possible to
listen to the works on this present CD and the other six and
not wonder how such an important contributor to the literature
of the piano has gone virtually noticed by lovers of piano music.
I make no excuse for concluding this review by quoting myself!
‘I believe that Erik Chisholm is so important that his music
ought to have International status rather than just a
local interest. I repeat [again!] my assertion that this series
of CDs showcase one of the most important “musical discoveries
and revelations of the Twenty-First Century’.
And a further review – from Rob Barnett:-
This is the seventh and last volume in Murray McLachlan's Chisholm piano series. It began on Dunelm and migrated to Divine Art. The music is - broadly described - within a triangle described by Bartók, Grainger and Szymanowski. All three were guest performers and featured composers in Chisholm's notable 1930s Glasgow concert series.
The four Elegies are by turns gentle and subtle, clangourous and often coloured by the twists and turns of Scottish folk voices. Of tartan clichés and petty-coat shortcake there is thankfully none. Chisholm reaches far back to prehistory and but also is open to skirling Baxian declamation (as in the final Elegy) and melodic lilt. You can hear this especially in the third of the sequence of five - there are two versions of the second elegy.
The ten minute Peter Pan suite offers pictures of the fluttering Peter, the gentle Wendy, the gloomy minatory Crocodile, the liquid Ravelian high-chiming Tinkerbell and finally the stirring Captain Hook who swashbuckles heroically rather than playing the scoundrel. The little Paraeterita Sonatina no. 4 accompanies a dignified minuet with skirls - it has a Caledonian Purcellian mien.
The Suite No. 1 is roguish, conventionally dance-inflected, caught between a Godowsky pictorial dance suite and Bartókian grotesques. The Second Suite also straddles the concert hall-salon chasm. It builds in a Chop-Sticks style themes and eight little variations into the midst of four other pieces. The Jig finale skips along with gleam in its eye but like its companions it is a more subtle and nuanced creature that its counterparts in the First Suite. The Third Suite is subtitled Ballet - full of quirks and eccentricity. It gleams with ricochets and shafts of light amid a blitz of character pieces.
With what is presumed to be the complete piano solo production now in place how long must we wait for the Hindustani concerto - the second piano concerto? Not long it seems. The two piano concertos: No. 1 Piobaireachd and No.2 Hindustani were recorded in Glasgow City Halls on 8-9 June 2011 by Danny Driver and the BBCSSO conducted by Rory Macdonald. This will be released by Hyperion in 2012.
The notes - which are by no means perfunctory - are by Chisholm authority and biographer John Purser (“Eric Chisholm - Scottish Modernist 1904-1965”, Boydell & Brewer, 2009 review).
Rangy and gangly music quaffing deep from the authentic Caledonian aquifer.
Vol 1 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2004/July04/Chisholm_Piano.htm
Vol 1 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2004/Aug04/Chisholm.htm
Vol 2 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2005/June05/Chisholm_DRD0223.htm
Vol 3 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2008/feb08/Chisholm_DRD0224.htm
Vols 1-4 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classRev/2009/Jan09/Chisholm_Piano1-4_DDV24131.htm
Vol 5 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2009/Aug09/Chisholm_ddv24140.htm
Vol 6 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2011/Jan11/Chisholm_v6_DDV24249.htm
Vol 6 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2011/Feb11/chisholm_piano_v6_ddv24149.htm
Piano Concerto 1 http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2002/May02/Chisholm_concerto.htm
Chisholm on the Janáček operas http://www.musicweb-international.com/Chisholm/Janacek/
Margaret Morris ballets http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2011/Jan11/chisholm_ect2010.htm