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Gordon Jacob's Clogher Head Overture
Coincidence is a strange thing. I first came across Clogher Head
over sixteen years ago whilst on a holiday in Eire. I was staying
at Howth in a lovely hotel. Each morning, before breakfast, I
climbed to the top of Howth Hill and took in the magnificent
view over Dublin Bay and the up seacoast towards Rush and Lambey
Island. On one occasion I guessed I could see Snowdon on the
North Wales coast. One day I met a gentleman on the hilltop who
suggested I made a trip to Clogher Head. Two days later I did
and discovered one of the loveliest parts of the British Isles
that I have ever seen. Later that week, I was in a second-hand
bookshop in Dublin. In amongst a box of bits and pieces I discovered
a prospectus for the 1928 Henry Wood Promenade Concerts. Back
at the hotel in Howth, over a pint of Guinness, I was amazed
to discover that on the evening of Saturday 29th September
1928 the Symphony Orchestra gave a performance of a piece of
music called Overture: Clogher Head by Gordon Jacob.
In the days before the Internet it was not possible to check
out
if this piece had been recorded, or whether the score had been
published. Even more difficult was the location of reviews
or programme notes. I forgot about the work until a week or
so ago
when I read that Clogher had lost the ‘Blue Flag’ status
for its beach. I hunted out the prospectus in my filing system
and then got to work on the ‘net, on email and in the
RCM Library.
I contacted the composer’s widow, Margaret Hyatt-Jacob,
who very kindly sent me a copy of the composer’s programme
note, which I quote in full:
The Overture is named after a promontory on the East Coast
of Ireland, a few miles north of the mouth of the River Boyne.
It
is not intended to be pictorial or topographical, though it
may be taken as an attempt to express in terms of music something
of the exhilaration one feels when standing on a rocky point
overlooking the sea and, in its quieter moments, one’s
response to the romantic views to be obtained from this particular
spot- to the north Dundalk Bay and the Mourne Mountains: to the
south the hills of Wicklow: inland Tara’s ruins on the
skyline, and out to sea, if the day be a clear one, the Isle
of Man, an elusive wraith on the far horizon. And, over all,
the charm of “Ireland green and fair.”
The work is cast in classical symphonic form. There is no introduction,
the principal subject being delivered at the outset by the full
force of the orchestra. After some brief development a climax
is worked up over a rhythmical ground-bass and then the music
dies down to make way for the second group of subjects, the chief
of which is an oboe melody accompanied by the harp. The quiet
mood thus set up prevails for some time during which the main
themes undergo various transformations and developments until
the recapitulation is reached and the vigorous atmosphere of
the opening is re-established. During the recapitulation, the
themes are continually developed and the work ends with a quiet Coda based
on the chief second subject and a mysterious passage unconnected
with the main themes, which has previously been heard in the
middle section of the work. The Overture is scored for the normal
symphony orchestra.
Even a brief perusal of the note suggests that this is a work
that may well bear revival. At least there should be one recording
made of a piece that was a significant part of the composer’s
output. I am intrigued by the reference to a ‘mysterious
passage’ and wonder if there is a little bit of the Celtic
twilight about this. However until the work is heard or the
score is studied all that the musicologist can rely on is the
reception
history of this work. The concert was reported in the Times,
the Guardian and the Musical Times: the reviewers appear to
be a wee bit mixed in their thoughts about the Overture.
Rather than paraphrase I have included them below ‘verbatim.’
The reviewer in the Manchester Guardian ([EB] October
1, 1928), writing a couple of
days after the concert wrote that:
“At the Promenade Concert Mr.
Gordon Jacob conducted the first performance of his overture “Clogher
Head”,
an orchestral work named after the promontory on the east
coast of Ireland,
the wonderful view from which is said to have inspired
the composer. The work falls into three sections, the first
of
which is breezy,
the second dreamy and the third a modified recapitulation
of the first. In spite of this formal scheme one was
struck by
a curious lack of shape as its main defect. The moments
of exhilaration
are very good indeed, spontaneously invented and convincingly
presented. The lyrical contrast, though less incisive
is also capable of making its impression, but the two are
not
reconciled
into a single work of art. Strangely enough in this instrumental
work Mr. Jacob seems to have fallen into the trap that
so often waylays composers of songs. He is so occupied with
enforcing
a contrast, which happens to be only one element in his
scheme
that it comes to dominate and to some extent impair the
coherence of his work as a whole”.
The Times reviewer
(October 1, 1928) initially pointed out that there were “no
less than four tone-poems” of one sort of another” at
the Saturday night concert.
“Mr Gordon Jacob himself conducted
the first performance of his overture “Clogher Head”.
He warns us in a programme note not to look for pictorial
or topographical interest in this
work bearing the name of an Irish cape, but it is
still programme music full of the feeling of the sea.”
He
considers that the work is less impressionistic than
de Falla’s
Nights in the Garden of Spain. His description of the work’s
progress continues:
“It plunges straight into the heart of its subject, moves
forward on strong rhythms with some fine writing
for brass, and
is ingeniously scored with a sure hand to secure effects that are new
without calling undue attention to themselves. The quieter
moods of
the second subject are no less apt, but the contrasts seemed too
strong for the unity of the work. Mr. Jacob wastes
no notes on transitions from his first to his second group of themes and
he is direct to the point of brusqueness in all
that he wants to say, so that a strange contrast is not out of the picture.
None the less the work, for all its strength, tends
to fall into pieces.”
The Musical Times (November 1, 1928) declared that:
“The novelty on September 29 was Gordon Jacob’s
Overture ‘Clogher
Head’. It is named after an Irish cape, and is a
well-made bit of programme music. There is much sound,
strong writing,
and the scoring, both in the finely vigorous opening subject
and in the quiet, expressive sections, is consistently
sure.
Here is another composer who shows a fine gift for
turning out music and compelling our respectful admiration
for
the product.
High-sounding, deeply felt, skilfully worked- these are
the calculated praises that give the show away. Clogher
Head
lacked thrill.
Not a loved moment survived the listening. As to the truth
of the landscape-painting, one must run down to the nearest
wind-swept
promontory before presuming to judge.”
The other
pieces given at this concert were the Marche au
Supplice from Berlioz’s Fantastique Symphony, Träumerei by
Schumann arranged for Strings and Horns, Abscheulicher
from Fidelio by
Beethoven and Nights in the Garden of Spain for
pianoforte and orchestra by Manuel de Falla. The soloist
in this last
work was Harriet Cohen. The second half of the concert
included The
Prologue from Pagliacci by Leoncavallo, Francesco
da Rimini by Tchaikovsky and the Valse Caprice by Rubenstein.
Perhaps the most important work played at this concert
Richard Strauss’s tone poem Don Quixote.
On the 31 January 1929 the work was given on the radio
at 3 pm In fact two of Jacobs’s works were broadcast from
the weekly Bournemouth concert. The second work was his Concerto
for piano
and strings. It is the last time I can find reference to Clogher
Head and I assume that it largely disappeared from
view.
It is always difficult to pontificate on a piece of music
that one has not heard. However, unless there are some
later performances
that have been overlooked by the reviewers, it would seem
that no one has heard the work for over 80 years. I have
established
that the score is in the possession of the composer’s
widow, however she tells me that the parts are missing. Jacob
dated
the score as having been completed on March 2nd 1928.
Margaret Hyatt-Jacob told me that the score has blue pencil
work, which she suggests may be publisher’s marks. However,
they may have been corrections and rehearsal notes.
I could arrange to see the score and I may well do that
one day - certainly if there is ever any interest shown
in producing
the work. However, unless it is part of a major project,
I guess
that the work may well remain unheard for another eighty
years.
I am grateful to help, advice and comments from a number
of people including Rob Barnett, Dr Geoff Ogram, Eric Wetherell
and especially
Margaret Hyatt-Jacob.