A glance at the label, repertoire and performers is
enough to tell us that this disc will be a winner, and so it
turns out to be. It seems almost impudent to review it.
The title of the collection is “The Winchester Service
and other late works”. There are nine choral works, some
with organ accompaniment, and two pieces for organ alone. The
music Howells composed towards the end of his long life has
been neglected, and even admirers of the composer will probably
find some new things here. His music became more uncompromising
in later life, with harsher dissonances and fewer allowances
made in respect of difficulty, either for the performers or
the audience. What remains, however, is the acute ear for choral
and organ textures, the generous and eloquent response to words,
and that famous soaring quality that has so often been described
as ecstatic.
Typical of Howells’ later style is the Magnificat and
Nunc Dimittis he composed in 1967 for Winchester Cathedral.
Pretty much gone are the harmonies based on piled up thirds
and sixths, to be replaced, in music no less grand and sonorous,
by a strangely potent mix of richness and austerity. The work
begins with a long passage for the trebles alone, and once the
other voices enter the music soon rises to considerable dramatic
heights. The Doxology (“Glory be to the Father”)
of the Magnificat ends with a spectacular cadence, and that
of the Nunc Dimittis would seem to be heading in the same direction,
except that Howells reserves a surprise for us. Less immediately
attractive than the Services for King’s, St John’s
or, one of my own favourites, New College, Oxford, this is just
as satisfying in its own way, and is, like all the music on
this disc, an essential element in understanding the whole of
Howells’ output.
From the same year comes a Jubilate Deo, composed for the Chapel
Royal. I had never heard this work before, and its startling
originality and near-ecstatic Doxology and final Amens were
enough to make me play it again straight away. Thee Will
I Love, to words by Robert Bridges, a dramatic affirmation
of faith with a particularly ravishing final cadence, will be
another welcome discovery for many. The unaccompanied motet
Come, my soul was dedicated to Howells’ friend
and Royal College of Music colleague Richard Latham. The text,
by John Newton, is another affirmation, the speaker serene in
the knowledge that Christ will welcome him into Heaven. Even
so, it is the final line that receives the full treatment: “Lead
me to my journey’s end” closes the work in quiet
contemplation of that journey wherein even those secure in their
faith will feel apprehension at what lies ahead.
The Te Deum Howells wrote to celebrate the restoration of the
church of St Mary Redcliffe in Bristol is spectacular in scope,
effect and the demands made of the performers. One expects a
shattering major chord finish, then a minor chord seems to be
on the way, but the composer adds another mysterious minute
or so to close the work with no third, major or minor, at all.
Another exquisite cadence, and music closer to Howells’
earlier style, closes the Coventry Antiphon, composed
for the consecration of Coventry Cathedral. Not so Antiphon,
composed for the Bach Choir and first performed by them in 1977.
Composed to George Herbert’s familiar words “Let
all the world in every corner sing”, this is Howells at
his most uncompromising, to the point that many might have difficulty
recognising the composer in it. It sounds fiendishly difficult
too. The Fear of the Lord, despite its title, reflects
on that faith that brings “rejoicing”, “gladness”,
“a merry heart” and “a long life”. The
first half of the piece is forceful, but even more striking
is the extraordinarily eloquent second half, wherein the eighty-four
year-old composer sets the words “Whoso feareth the Lord…shall
find favour in the day of his death.” The programme closes
with the gloriously festive Exultate Deo Howells composed
in 1974 for the enthronement of the Bishop of Lincoln.
Slightly allergic to organ music, I feel less qualified to comment
on the solo pieces. The Rhapsody is the last of a series of
four, though the preceding three were all composed in the second
decade of the twentieth century. Where the earlier pieces tend
to be pensive, even pastoral in atmosphere, this one is dramatic
and striking. The spiky A Flourish for a Bidding is more
dramatic still. We learn from Paul Andrews’ excellent
booklet note that this last piece was composed in aid of the
Royal College of Organists, and, as the title might lead us
to think, the manuscript was auctioned. The lucky bidder was
the publisher Novello, at £21, a remarkable bargain, one
might think, even in 1969.
The two organ solos are splendidly played by Simon Bell. Articulation,
choice of registration, the fabulous acoustic of Winchester
Cathedral or all three make for admirably clear textures, something
my admittedly prejudiced ears do not always find to be the case.
The performances of the choral works are quite simply beyond
praise and require no further comment from me. The recording
is beautiful, bringing us fairly close to the choir whilst retaining
a strong sense of the building. For seasoned Howells admirers,
and, with the occasional health warning, for those beginning
their Howells journey too, this disc is an absolute must.
William Hedley