This is Edward Gardner’s second Walton disc for Chandos. Last year I was
seriously impressed by his coupling of the First Symphony and the Violin
Concerto (
review) so I jumped at the opportunity to hear the
follow-up disc. This latest Walton anthology from Gardner has already been
the subject of a comprehensive and wide-ranging review from my colleague,
Nick Barnard.
One advantage that Nick enjoyed over me was that he could access
comparative versions of the rarely-recorded
Improvisations on an
Impromptu of Benjamin Britten. I used to have it on
LP – it was coupled by André Previn with his first (LSO) recording of
Belshazzar’s Feast – but I haven’t heard that performance in years
and I’ve never encountered the Bryden Thomson account mentioned by Nick. I
suppose, if I’m honest, that it’s not a work that I’ve felt compelled to
seek out. Much though I admire Walton I think this is a score in which he
gave the impression of mining old seams. Written for the San Francisco
Symphony, it was based, with permission, on the theme of the Impromptu third
movement of Britten’s Piano Concerto. Though the work is fairly brief it
took some time to write: he sought Britten’s consent to use the theme in
September 1968 but, as Anthony Burton relates in his booklet note, the
orchestral material was only available to the orchestra a few days before
the first performance in January 1970. This length of time may suggest that
Walton laboured over the score but there may be at least another partial
explanation for the long gestation period. In his
Portrait of
Walton the late Michael Kennedy states that the original title of the
work was
Elegiac Variations on a Theme by Benjamin Britten.
However, the title was changed in November 1969 because Dr Ralph Dorfman,
who had commissioned the piece in memory of his late wife, expressed a
preference that she should be commemorated joyfully. Kennedy speculates that
the extrovert conclusion may have been “a necessary afterthought.”
Michael Kennedy describes the score as “a hauntingly beautiful
composition” and I admire very much the beautiful way in which the theme is
presented and then the delicacy of the first section of the piece; all of
this is delivered with great finesse by Gardner and the BBCSO. This is
followed by what Anthony Burton justly describes as music in “Walton’s
familiar brittle scherzo manner” which is brilliantly despatched in this
performance. But here already I start to get the feeling that Walton is
tending to go over old ground. That feeling is heightened over the remaining
two Improvisations. In these two sections the music bears many Waltonian
stylistic fingerprints and I was particularly struck by the instances of
repeated figurations, especially in the work’s final section. The piece is
splendidly performed here but I don’t feel it’s vintage Walton.
Some critics have been a bit sniffy about the
Cello
Concerto, suggesting that it lacks the stature and originality of
the much earlier Violin Concerto and Viola Concerto. Those two scores are
masterpieces and perhaps the Cello Concerto doesn’t quite reach those lofty
heights but it’s still a fine and original work. It was written for and
commissioned by Gregor Piatigorsky who gave the first performance with
Charles Munch and the Boston Symphony Orchestra in January 1957, recording
it with them just days later (
review). Incidentally, Lyrita has just issued another
Piatigorsky performance, which I have not yet heard, which I suspect is the
European premiere of the concerto, which he gave with Sargent and the BBC
Symphony Orchestra in February 1957 (
review).
Piatigorsky’s Boston recording will always have a special place in the
catalogue, of course, but I don’t think that Paul Watkins need fear
comparisons with his great predecessor. Piatigorsky is recorded much more
closely than Watkins so in his recording, which is now nearly 60 years old,
we hear rather less of Walton’s skilful orchestral writing whereas it
emerges in all its colour and inventiveness on this Chandos disc. It seems
to me that Watkins catches the melancholic, songful mood of the first
movement rather more successfully than Piatigorsky did; for one thing the
initial tempo adopted by Piatigorsky and Munch is a notch faster than on the
new version and as a result the music sounds a bit edgy. Walton exploits the
cello’s lyrical side extremely successfully in this movement and Watkins
plays the solo part very well indeed, his tone just right for the music.
Meanwhile Gardner draws refined playing from the BBCSO. The second movement,
effectively a scherzo, is brittle and mercurial with little let-up. There’s
no trio to provide relaxation though there are a couple of short episodes of
lyrical dalliance. Watkins and Gardner give a fine, scurrying performance.
On the Piatigorsky disc, however, the big up-front sound of the soloist (at
least as recorded) rather compromises the notion of a partnership between
soloist and orchestra.
The structure of the concerto is rather unusual in that the third movement
consists of a theme and four ‘improvisations’ followed by an extended coda.
Moreover this final movement occupies nearly half the length of the concerto
(13:34 in this performance). Helpfully, Chandos divide the movement into
three tracks, though if I were being really picky it would have been even
more valuable if each ‘improvisation’ had been separately tracked.
Nonetheless, the division as it stands is most useful. Another structural
point of interest is that two of the ‘improvisations’ - one marked
Brioso (track 8, 0:00 – 1:45), the other
Rapsodicamente
(track 9, 0:00 – 2:19) - are for the cello alone; these almost fulfil the
function of cadenzas. In between comes the third ‘improvisation’, which is
for orchestra alone; this is a brilliant, dashing episode. Paul Watkins is
hugely impressive throughout and shows real virtuosity in the two big
unaccompanied passages. The extended coda, which includes a re-visitation of
material from the first movement, is extremely well done here, bringing to
an end a very fine performance of the Cello Concerto. Piatigorsky and Munch
are admirable in the finale but I feel that the Watkins/Gardner account has
an edge - and sonically it’s vastly superior.
In the
Second Symphony Gardner has to contend again with
a classic recording made in the USA; this time it’s George Szell’s 1961
Cleveland recording (
review), which I have on an old Sony CD coupled with two more
fabulous Walton recordings by Szell: the
Partita, a work written
for Szell and his orchestra, and the
Variations on a Theme by
Hindemith. (In passing, I wonder did Szell ever conduct the First
Symphony? I should love to have heard him in that score.) The Second
Symphony may not be as highly-charged as the First but it’s still a fine
work and the scoring is colourful and inventive.
In the first movement Gardner drives the music forward expertly, getting
keen-edged and admirably light-footed playing from the BBCSO. This is
colourful, vivacious music that often has a
Portsmouth Point-like
bustle, though Walton’s yearning, romantic side is also often to the fore.
Szell’s recording still sounds quite good though the sound is no match for
the modern Chandos recording. Interpretatively I don’t think there’s a great
deal to choose between Szell and Gardner though Szell is, if anything, even
more razor-sharp in the fast movement. Out of interest I also compared
Gardner with a more recent rival: the Hyperion recording by Martyn Brabbins
(
review). I admired this when it first came out – and I
still do – but though the Brabbins account is well played his basic speed in
this movement is a bit steadier than Gardner’s – or Szell’s – and sounds a
bit cautious beside the others.
Gardner brings out well the Waltonian melancholy of the second movement,
in a poetic reading. Brabbins is good too. Szell seems the most probing of
all, though some may feel he appears a bit severe. The finale consists of a
Theme and 10 Variations followed by a Fugato and Coda. Chandos helpfully
divide the movement into two tracks, starting the second one at the Fugato.
The variations are technically brilliant and extremely concise - all ten
plus the theme on which they are based only play for some 5 ˝ minutes.
Gardner’s performance is very fine and the lyrical eighth and ninth
variations sound absolutely ravishing. The Fugato is full of typical
Waltonian brio and irregular rhythmical vitality. Though the Gardner
performance is extremely fine Szell’s account is breath-taking. He takes a
minute less than Gardner (8:28 against Gardner’s 9:22) yet the music never
sounds rushed. Furthermore, though there’s brilliant display in the
Clevelanders’ playing the slower episodes are wonderfully luminous. In
Szell’s hands the Fugato and the music that follows is electrifying – it’s
here where Szell is appreciably swifter than Gardner – and the Cleveland
Orchestra’s collective virtuosity is simply dazzling. No wonder this
recording still enjoys classic status after more than fifty years. Brabbins
gives a very good account of the finale but the others – and Szell
especially – have the edge.
No Walton devotee will want to be without Szell’s account of the Second
Symphony but Edward Gardner’s new recording is the finest modern version
that I’ve heard. Like the rest of the programme it’s expertly played and
it’s evidently the work of a conductor who is very well versed in Walton’s
music. I hope that there will be more instalments in this series and in
particular that Gardner has his eye on the
Partita, Hindemith
Variations and the Viola Concerto.
The recording of the Second Symphony was auditioned in the
MusicWeb Listening Studio recently and came in for much
favourable comment. I’ve now been able to experience the whole SACD on my
own equipment and I remain very impressed, Chandos has produced yet another
winner of a recording here.
John Quinn
Previous review:
Nick Barnard