Support us financially by purchasing from

Benjamin BRITTEN (1913-1976)
Complete Folk Songs for Voice and Piano
Mark Milhofer (tenor), Marco Scolastra (piano)
rec. 2019 (CD1), 2020 (CD2), Theater Cliunno, Trevi (PG), Italy
BRILLIANT CLASSICS 96009 [67:52 + 57:29]

Sorry to start a bit pedantically, but the title of this collection is wrong. Britten wasn’t given to composing folk songs. The nearest I can think of is the round ‘Old Joe has gone fishing’ in Peter Grimes, whose text was only successfully created at the fifth attempt. Britten arranged folk songs collected by others. But the wrong title must stand because that’s the title you’ll need to track down the two CDs of this set. Volumes of folksong arrangements were published as noted in the contents list at the end of this review. In 1976 Volume 6, England were published and in 1980 Eight folksong arrangements. These both lie outside the ’voice and piano’ scope of the CDs under review, the 1976 publication being for voice and guitar, the 1980 for voice and harp. But within its scope are Tom Bowling and other song arrangements published in 2001 which are ten settings for various reasons never published before. As the aim of these CDs is to present the settings in chronological order, a good idea to enable you to consider to what extent Britten’s approach developed, the individual unpublished settings are dispersed chronologically across the CDs as shown in the contents list.

Of the 47 songs on these 2 CDs, I select 19 I feel are of particular significance and compare other key recordings. There are two, sometimes three, other choices. First, the Naxos ‘complete’ set (8.557220-21) of recordings made in 1995. Second, the Hyperion set, made in 1994, now only available as a download (CDD 22042). Third, sometimes recordings made by Peter Pears with Britten at the piano: 12 folksongs recorded in the 1940s within a 10 CD set of early recordings (Documents 231134) and 21 folksongs recorded in 1961, now only available as a download (Decca 476 1973), four of which, including The Bonny Earl o’ Moray and The last rose of summer I discuss later, on a Britten and Walton CD (Presto 468 8012, licensed from Decca).

It seems that the earliest folksong arrangement Britten made was of I wonder as I wander, described in a 1967 concert by Pears as ‘A Christmas song from the Appalachian Mountains.’ This had been collected in 1933 by John Jacob Niles, realized from a fair body of material transcribed from the singing of the young daughter of the pastor of a travelling revivalist group, then possibly extended, particularly with regard to text and published in 1934 by G. Schirmer Inc. whose permission to publish it with Britten’s rearrangement was finally given via G. Schirmer Ltd. in 2001. Niles was very protective of his copyright and performing rights, so that Britten wasn’t able to publish his setting, record or include performances in broadcasts. But he did perform the piece and, fortunately for us, some unofficial recordings survive. Niles also recorded the piece and, to hear the passion with which he sings it, accompanying himself on a home-made instrument is to empathise to a degree with his protectiveness.

So, three recordings to compare. First, Mark Milhofer on this new CD. A good piece to start with as Britten, excepting occasional discreet dovetailing, divides arrangement from original song by revealing the song unaccompanied. Britten’s input is in a piano introduction and reflections between the song’s verses which rather like his interludes in Peter Grimes, though in a much smaller space, further define and enhance the vocal material. This also means on this occasion only in these folksongs you get to concentrate on the voice and piano individually. The piece is marked ‘Freely’ and Milhofer’s approach is bracing and breezy. He has an inviting voice: quite full but pleasingly focussed with a modicum of vibrato that gives it an emotive quality without sentimentality, the climactic top G with pause at ‘wander’ in the closing line of the first verse with a sense of appreciation. The second verse is more rhetorical and appropriately given more declamation and fiery climax. Marco Scolastra brings out the simplicity yet meditative quality of the piano passages, arguably somewhat too smooth and understated to begin with, yet conveying well the poco animato postlude to the second verse (CD1, tr. 1, 1:43) and animato (2:19) after the third which reflects on the nature of Jesus’ kingship before becalming to lead into the final verse, where Milhofer becomes attractively adoring In the refrains at ‘people like you and I’, I like the way Milhofer dwells very slightly on ‘you’, to involve the listener, before the longer and paused ‘I’. In the final verse his final ‘wander’ isn’t quite the pp marked but a smooth glissando, also not marked, from ‘wander’ to ‘out’ adds to the sense of spaciousness.

For the other rare recordings of this piece, you need to go to Youtube. Type ‘Pears I wonder’ in the search box and you’ll find his 1967 Argentina recording. Timing at 4:11 to Milhofer’s 3:41, with Pears the sheer freedom of delivery of the vocal line, because unaccompanied, is compelling, as if the text is a spontaneous thought and note values are infinitely flexible. Britten’s pianism has a brittle animation from the outset and grows more so as the piece develops while Pears makes the ‘King’ climax of the third verse fully heroic before the following piano climax and then softness of the final verse and a truly magical pp for its ‘climax’. Now, staying in Youtube type ‘I wonder Niles’ for his original. I have no date for this recording, and, with no piano interludes, he gets through the piece in 2:17, accompanying himself on a lute-like instrument but with metal strings, creating a more zither-like sound. As with Pears the freedom of delivery is evident and, in the refrain, he emphasises ‘you’ with evangelistic zeal far more than Milhofer. It’s well worth the trouble to access this. Niles has a truly distinctive voice: a comfortable tenor, a remarkably pure upper range, and a final verse pp ‘climax’ too. Undeniably charismatic.

The Salley Gardens begins volume 1 of Britten’s published arrangements. It’s unusual: three of its four lines have the same melody, so a fine climactic third line is crucial and achieved. Britten’s task throughout is to make a distinctive contribution without getting in the way of the melody. As with I wonder as I wander, though here he does have a generally simple piano accompaniment, his key material is in a piano introduction before every verse: three rising, sighing phrases of three notes of great longing, but falling in sequence and followed by the release, coming to terms with the longing, in a two-note falling phrase. Now, for the first time, two staccato notes creating the cadence, as if shrugging the shoulders and getting on with life. After the third verse, the piano introduction becomes postlude with an added two-note descent to basso profundo G flat and a long pause on that final chord as the singing lover is well and truly cast down.

Milhofer plays this lover as a gadabout whose lifestyle is owing to his girl’s encouragement, but he does softly shade the refrain’s hindsight that he was ‘foolish’, is warmer, as marked, in the second verse (tr. 2, 1:17) and the song’s climax of his easiness like the grass growing on the weirs in the third is well realized. Scolastra brings longing and a sorrowing quality to the piano introduction, but the contrast of the final two staccato notes isn’t clear. In the Naxos set Philip Langridge plays the sorrowful, reflective lover, more in tune with the piano introduction but possibly too downtrodden. The mood is, however, set by a closer attention to soft introduction and first verse by Langridge and Graham Johnston in the Naxos set than by Milhofer/Scolastra. Johnston is better in the introduction’s final two notes in a clear staccato which thrusts off the earlier sentiment and I prefer his final chord, which makes more of the halo effect of the right hand over the bottom G flat, suggesting salvation for the young man despite his loss. Scolastra prefers to stress dejection.

Little Sir William requires a conjuring trick from Britten’s arrangement and very effective it is as the short, unchanging melody proves capable of much nuance. It starts ‘lightly’ mf in the piano introduction, and for me Scolastra is a bit heavy: it should have a more romping feel as a celebration of the fun of schooldays. The song’s melody starts p with the first four verses poco a poco più f and Milhofer, by not beginning really softly, has less scope to make this gradually growing contrast. Clarity of articulation and rhythmic contrast matched with the piano’s is achieved at the expense of an over deliberate progress of what is, at first sight, an everyday narrative. The song’s transformation (tr. 3, 1:43), beginning before verse 5 with a piano introduction poco rallentando sf molto diminuendo is well done, everything softer and slower as Milhofer now brings with an ironic serenity the ghost voice of Sir William making the funeral arrangements before perking up and picking up momentum for the final verse 7 (3:04) connects once more with happy school life, which the piano postlude matches. The charm of this adds to the desolation.

Johnston/Langridge, timing at 2:58 to Scolastra/Milhofer’s 3:38, bring a more carefree, skipping piano introduction, a softer, more piping schoolboy like Sir William to begin, then a firmer and a little louder school mistress from Langridge in verse 3. The transformation is handled just as tellingly as Scolastra/Milhofer do. Langridge brings a drier, more pained voice as the ghost and the ‘with movement’ final verse is interpreted as only a partial return to the skipping opening, making the candyfloss treatment from Johnston in the final arpeggiated chord grimly ironic.

The Bonny Earl o’ Moray takes us from transformation to unexpected tragedy in Little Sir William to head-on confrontation of tragedy, remembrance and lament. It’s marked as a ‘Solemn march’, beginning in both piano brief introduction and voice ‘pp (2^nd time più f sempre)’, second time being the second verse, while the Earl’s Lady’s refrain (tr. 4, first time, 0:39) after both verses is marked ‘pp sempre crescendo molto’. Scolastra begins with heavy, despairing weight to which Milhofer counters with heroic manner and edge, which is where those crescendos come in, relishing the Scots words and accents, even rendering the score’s ‘might’, as sung by Pears at the end of the first verse, more correctly as ‘micht’ (0:39). So, Milhofer impresses us with a celebration, softening at the end of the second verse for the revelation the Earl was the Queen’s love. until the p, then pp piano postlude in which Scolastra graphically follows the Lady (but which one?) gazing out for ever at what might have been. Pears’ 1961 recording emphasises the piece as a lament with throughout a sorrowing cast, an ache in the voice, more marked use made both by Pears and Britten’s piano of the alternating infusion of dynamic power and pitying frailty.

The French folksongs of volume 2 seem closer to art songs than the English, partly I think because the less familiar tunes seem more exotic, and they tend to have more verses, which challenges Britten to find more variety in the accompaniment. They divide into the hauntingly meditative and raucously exuberant. Fileuse manages to be a bit of both. From Scolastra/Milhofer it’s a life story in 1:51. It begins Vivace with the piano marking pp bisbigliando, indicating a soft, whirring tremolo like that performed on a harp, the voice pp leggiero. This from Milhofer is a bright-eyed, active life of a shepherdess festooned with ‘Tiroli-tirola’ nonsense refrains. The vocal dynamic and piano activity increases with the introduction of a shepherd boy and his song of love. But the sixth and last verse is Più lento and back to pp (tr. 14, 1:01): the shepherdess is now old, ugly and has ever been alone, with a final refrain doloroso (1:14), still beautifully so from Milhofer and a rallentando molto (1:23) more stylishly crafted than halting, even though this is the equivalent to Shakespeare’s ‘sans everything’. There’s more scope for Scolastra’s postlude to be ‘repeated till inaudible’ than he takes. It could then seem more of a witness of life: joy, if you grasp it; sadness, because it’s transitory.
 
Now, you might ask, ‘Wouldn’t it be better for a girl to sing this shepherdess song?’ Britten recorded it in 1943 with the Swiss soprano, Sophie Wyss, for whom he wrote these volume 2 settings. In the Hyperion set it’s sung by the Scottish soprano Lorna Anderson with Malcolm Martineau at the piano. Timing the piece at 2:04 to Milhofer/Scolastra’s 1:51, they give it a mite more space, which makes Anderson’s life relished at the start more carefree, while Martineau points more clearly the changes Britten introduces in the accompaniment: the sustained left-hand notes descending from verse 2 (0:13 in Scolastra), the accompaniment starting to become more animated from verse 3 (0:24) rather than Scolastra notably from verse 4 (0:33), by which time Martineau is even more animated. At the climax at the end of verse 5’s refrain, the final word ‘roul’ (0:53) is cut off from the usual ‘roule’, as if the voice is wrenched from a dream of the past to verse 6’s Più lento present day: you feel this with Anderson, but not really with Milhofer. However, what Scolastra makes clearer than Martineau is the smooth, opening rising phrase of the Più lento which he shares twice with the voice, then plays a third time against the vocal refrain, with a sense of resigned inevitability. Milhofer’s Più lento has more feel of regret than Anderson’s, which concentrates on gazing back as if clinging onto earlier beauty. Martineau counters this with a creepier postlude than Scolastra’s, pointing up more its chromaticism to unsettling effect.
 
La belle est au jardin d’amour is, for me, the loveliest of the French songs. Why? Because of the simplicity, yet balance, of the melody and Britten’s accompaniment. A rising phrase, repeated, followed by a falling one, repeated; in each a mid, hovering point, in which the sixth note of the phrase is the return to the fourth. This gives an atmosphere of B flat major stability while the narrative is one of growing instability; but you remember, long for, and get a close of ironic stability. Britten adds a piano introduction which is a compressed variation of the song’s two phrases and this also serves as a recurring, anchoring device between the verses. The marking is Andantino, the dynamic p ma poco a poco più agitato and Scolastra and Milhofer deliver this, gradually creating more urgency, so that by the opening of verse 3,’Berger, berger’ (tr. 16, 1:01), the enquiry to the shepherd has a feel of desperate appeal and the piano’s offbeat quavers, formerly part of the natural order of things, now add to the alarm. The final verse (1:53) is poco più lento and, by the time we’ve reached the second part (2:08), having learnt the lovely and loved bird has flown, we’re firmly in F minor, but Britten restores stability with the same anchor from the piano and then a brief, glorious postlude, a closing flight to the stratosphere in F major. Why? I suggest escape has proved happy for the bird, though not the singer.

I compare Felicity Lott with Johnston in the Naxos set. Timing at 3:12 to Milhofer/Scolastra’s 2:47, they bring a floating, stately ease to the opening, Lott more mulling over with concern the circumstances than Milhofer’s immediacy, Lott with more pointing of dynamic contrasts and the careful consideration of the slower final verse. Lott/Johnston make the fourth verse shepherd’s reply (1:27 in Milhofer/Scolastra) light-hearted and ironically consoling, achieving more contrast, albeit not marked in the score.

Il est quelqu’un sur terre, marked Grave and timing at 5:39 from Milhofer/Scolastra, is the longest song in this set. A song of longing as, with the refrain, ‘Va, mon rouet’, ‘Go, my spinning wheel’, it moves elegiacally in B flat minor over a four note ground bass in the piano descending stepwise from B flat to a vocal climax on high F, in F minor, and then a vocal sostenuto, all finely judged by Milhofer (e.g., firstly at tr. 17, 0:56) just as the verse is ending and returning to B flat minor. From verse 2 (1:05) the right-hand layer of the accompaniment becomes more notable with syncopation and from verse 3 (2:01) becomes more melodic and distinctive with much alternation of F and D flat in soprano register for the first time. It made me think of Bach’s accompaniment to ‘Sheep may safely graze’, but here in a mournful cast. The accompaniment introducing verse 4 is marked più pp (3:00) and the picture of the stars in the shining night is sensitively realized by Milhofer/Scolastra. In the softness of the final verse 5 (4:06) we discover the singer’s story is a broken wheel and for the first time the high F climax is a choking one, after a diminuendo to ppp. In the piano postlude, after the ground bass descent through an octave to low B flat, a final, ghostly ppp alternating of coloratura F and D flat. This is arguably the most refined, closest to art song and moving of all the folksong arrangements.

However, as with Fileuse, the text is really that of a lady singing about a man, the literal translation of the title and heart of the text being ‘he is someone on earth … where my dreams go.’ So, I again compare Lott and Johnston who, timing at 4:53, give a more dramatic account. Lott is more emotive and as she develops the song achingly you feel this is emotion recollected in dejection: her pearly ppp high F climax is lambently sad and unforgettable. Johnston emphasises variety in the accompaniment with the introduction of the alternation of F and D flat given a catchier, dancing quality and arpeggiating the right-hand final crotchet as well as the marked left-hand minim which begins the final bar, thus more closely linking the recollection to happier memories. Then I compare Lorna Anderson with Martineau. Anderson’s sorrow is more inward, the overall feel that of sombre reflection, her voice more closely recorded and richer, matched by Martineau’s more reflective treatment of the alternation of F and D flat, but their timing of 4:45 I feel a little too flowing, melody and text deserving more sustaining and the ppp high F climax isn’t soft enough to be telling. The quality of the song makes interpretation challenging.

Volume 3, British Isles, contains some of the most popular and enjoyable arrangements. The Plough Boy proves Britten could do humour with a piano introduction that’s pure slapstick and is just right for this picaresque tale of a plough boy with dreams above his station of the roguery in which those in authority can succeed. It’s marked ‘Quick and gay’ and Scolastra sets off at a scampering pace, but this makes it less easy for Milhofer to sing ‘lightly’. You can’t fail to enjoy his hearty performance, but you think of a strong character delivering with relish a patter song as in a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. I compare Pears and Britten recorded in 1947 in the Documents set. Timing at 1:57 to Milhofer/Scolastra’s 1:38, this gives enough space, while still lively, for Britten to point more twinklingly the humour in the piano introduction and for Pears to have a smile in his voice and an innocence that wouldn’t have been quite there in his later recordings. His more marked pp refrains also enrich the winsome charm of their retrospection.

Sweet Polly Oliver is marked ‘With movement’ but also ‘clearly’ and in this case there’s more discrepancy between the timings, with Milhofer/Scolastra at 2:02 and Pears/Britten in 1946 at 2:57. In comparison the latter do seem a touch stilted but achieve more clarity and overt demonstration that the entire piece is underpinned by accompanying march rhythm, sometimes light, sometimes heavy. In the first verse Pears conveys Polly’s musing better than Milhofer and I like the strut of adventure he brings to the second verse, though Milhofer also well conveys getting into a march rhythm here. By the third verse Milhofer is thoroughly jaunty, and he contrasts well an authoritative voice for the sergeant and lighter one for Polly; but Pears makes a much more marked diminuendo when Polly finds “her true love all wasted and wan”, thus soliciting more sympathy. Moreover, Britten does the same with the immediately following piano transition to the fourth verse. The narrative is quick moving, so the balance of vocal and solo piano passages is sensitive.

The Foggy, Foggy Dew is, like The Plough Boy, a humorous piece with something of the quality of the picaresque, but in this case more endearingly entirely in a domestic setting. The distinctive piano verse introductions with pedal and arpeggiated chords continuing through the verses sets the tone. ‘Slow and regular’, it’s a bit lolloping and cumbersome yet has a relaxed mindlessness, for this is the man’s work as a weaver while he sings. And the narrative turns out to be a moral maze because of what isn’t disclosed. Verse 1: man, lusts after lady, “the only thing I did wrong”. Verse 2: “the only thing I did wrong”, ignoring this is the second thing, is to bed lady to save her from the dew. Lady, the temptress, had already laid her head on the bed and asked, ‘What shall I do?’ Verse 3: maybe sixteen years later, man remains a bachelor with his son weaving with him and, whenever he looks into his eyes, he remembers the lady. Naughty, but nice? But what happened to the lady? Scenario 1: she died in childbirth, so the man feels guilty, yet loves his son. Scenario 2: lady tells man she can’t be faithful to him, but he should cherish his son as a reminder of her and a useful workmate. Later he might wonder, is the boy his son? So, lust turns to love, irresponsibility to responsibility. Enough there for a one act opera?

Scolastra’s piano introduction is contented while Milhofer goes a step further in being cocksure, even to the extent of a mocking delivery to imitate the lady’s weepy ‘What shall I do?’ The song’s final thoughts of the many times he held her in his arms, not notably p as marked, become a celebration of conquest rather than happy recollection. Scolastra/Milhofer, timing at 2:05 to Pears/Britten’s 2:38 in 1947, adds to the brashness of effect of this ‘Slow and regular’ piece. Britten’s piano introduction and playing throughout has an appreciation of inconsequentiality yet gentleness. Pears, similarly, seems to wear no more than a gentle smile of recollection and the simplicity of the affair. His final thoughts are softer, as marked, and in the final note’s ‘dying away’ he runs out of breath, leaving Britten solo at the last arpeggio, where Milhofer/Scolastra end together.

O Waly, Waly doesn’t have the moral conundrums of the foggy dew: it’s a universal picture of being hopelessly in love and with very effective and dramatic accompaniment as Britten bases it on the stroke of oars. The piano introduction’s two crotchets are the introduction, ever after recovery, part of the stroke, while the following semibreve is the drive, pulling the boat through the water. This standard stroke action occurs 43 times in the piece. The only variant is the rhythm crotchet, minim, minim, crotchet (CD2, tr. 1, 0:42), first heard to illustrate “both shall row”, a rhythm which breaks the former stability because it introduces syncopation, though in the song it is first a desire for a sharing by lovers. This variant comes five times more, illustrating the destabilising power of love (1:28), the realization the lover was false (2:20), a fragmented mind, not able to cope (3:05) and finally the acceptance it’s all finished (3:59) with ghostly embers in the piano postlude (4:09). The drama is achieved by the addition of dynamics, with the second part of verses 1 and 2 louder and growing to a crescendo before diminuendo, while the final verse starts pp and gets to ppp and the postlude still quieter. So, the climaxes are boosted by the physicality of the piano rowing, while the softer parts suggest weariness of toil.

The overall marking is ‘Slowly moving’, while the piano is marked pp expressivo. Scolastra/Milhofer emphasise the ‘slowly’, giving a rather laboured, mournful quality to the rowing from the outset, pre-empting somewhat the false love not being revealed till 2:20, but this does allow clear and expressive delivery of the text by Milhofer and intensity of the dynamic rising and falling and that cycle repeated from verse 1 to verse 2. Milhofer’s final verse also has a movingly softer nature. ‘But when it is old’ (3:43) should, however, ideally maintain a softer still manner after the diminuendo at the end of the preceding phrase, even before the ppp of ‘fades away’ in the closing phrase. Pears and Britten, recorded in 1950, timing at 3:33 to Milhofer/Scolastra’s 4:26, find Britten conveying more of a keen sense of purpose to the rowing and Pears similarly a purposive approach to the exploration of the text. Their dynamic contrasts have more directness of dramatic impact, where Milhofer/Scolastra concentrate on the building process and, with more sensitively shaded dynamics, Pears brings more sense of retrospect and farewell to the final verse.

Come you not from Newcastle? Only Milhofer perhaps, from the four singers I’ve heard, as only he pronounces the place correctly: short ‘a’ as in ‘cat’, not Southern English long ‘a’ as in ‘cart’, while the song rhythm confirms the stress is on the second syllable, not the first of received English. The piece is marked ‘Fast, with spirit’ and Milhofer/Scolastra turn it out in 0:52 against Anderson/Martineau’s 1:01, Lott/Johnston’s 1:05, Pears/Britten 1947’s 1:11 and in 1961 1:12. The first verse is proclaimed mf to f, the second intimate, even secretive, with added piano echoes at the end of phrases emphasising the diminuendos, largely pp apart from its climactic paean to love. For me, Scolastra is a bit too heavy in his piano romp and Milhofer rather too macho in the first verse, though the contrast in the second verse is nicely done, save for the over booming basso profundo F of Scolastra’s final chord. Only Milhofer sings it, as in the 2006 Boosey & Hawkes complete edition, as a gay song, ‘Why should I not speed after him?’, which it isn’t when sung by Anderson and Lott, or by Pears who interestingly changes the text to ‘her’ in both his recordings. I like parts of all of these accounts. With Anderson I love the way she trills the dotted crotchet on ‘bonny’ which sounds absolutely right. I think Pears 1947 is best at the notably softer reflection of the second verse, though Lott isn’t far behind. In general, I find Pears’ earlier recordings fresher, less arty than the 1961. I think Johnston offers the best balance in the accompaniments, especially the lovely coloratura F against the basso profundo one in that final chord, though Martineau isn’t far behind.

Volume 4 brings Moore’s Irish Melodies. The last rose of summer is my first choice which illustrates well what you discover on listening to these CDs: that Britten is always searching for a distinctive focus, atmosphere, and colour to his accompaniment. In this case he begins with the Irish harp underpinning the natural order of things, here death. The traditional tune was originally transcribed from a performance by a harper. So, Britten’s accompaniment is arpeggio rich, Scolastra plays it solemnly and Milhofer sings very emotively, mournfully, and movingly from the outset, but with a touch more resolution for the ‘more intense’ verse 2 (tr. 8, 1:22). At “Thus kindly I scatter” (2:54) he provides a variant on the published text which is effective. “Kindly” and “I” are both set as semiquaver-quaver-semiquaver, but instead of an “I” of three syllables Milhofer sings two syllables, a trill on the first followed by a semiquaver, filling the same rhythmic space but providing a different vocal effect. Pears sings the phrase rhythmically as published but breaks it by taking aa quick breath before “scatter”, so Milhofer’s modification seems doubly justified. His top G in the extension of this verse’s climax and then the p final line are sensitively done. Verse 3 (2:35) is marked ‘In time and moving forward’ and this is where Scolastra becomes more prominent with right-hand chords in crotchets against offbeat left-hand quavers. This seems an obsessive accompaniment, chaotic in its very order and Milhofer’s voice becomes more alarmed. Britten seems to me in this performance to display marching troops and “true hearts lie withered” as a result of warfare and there’s a climax of chaos and destruction. The last rose is a metaphor for the last person alone after loved ones have died, but Britten’s accompaniment emphasises many have died, before the close returns to the piano as harp and the desolation of one mourning alone.

Turning to Pears and Britten’s 1961 recording, Pears brings, in addition to Milhofer’s sorrow, a sense of retrospection and great loss through more nuanced control of dynamics and phrasing, with lovelier floating of the high notes, his final phrase unforgettable. Britten’s accompaniment is a presence, more so in the climactic third verse, that always supports, never overshadows the voice, so the mobilization of troops is more suggested by Britten than explicitly brought forward by Scolastra, though the latter is an entirely valid interpretation of the music as written.

Sail on, sail on is quite the opposite kind of setting and circumstance, equally a matter of sorrow, but with hope at its close. It’s headed ‘Quietly rocking’ with the piano ‘very smooth.’ A calm seascape, but that isn’t the singer’s condition: whatever storms might occur, they can’t be as severe as “false hearted men” who the singer must escape, in contrast to the “true hearts” of The last rose of summer. It’s a song whose power derives from its outward calm, a sign of patience given its inward torment revealed by the clarity of the setting, Milhofer’s articulation and Scolastra’s appositely neutral smoothness. I feel perhaps Milhofer is a little earnest for the overall tone of quiet patience, but he does beautifully convey the visionary progression of the piece, when in its second strain there are leaps to high F, welcoming potential threats, and strange surroundings because there’s nothing false about them. Scolastra’s postlude then reaches to the skies even as it fades.

I compare the soprano Regina Nathan with Martineau in the Hyperion set and feel the soprano voice here is more conducive to revealing a spirit of adventure and optimism that can underly the patience and anticipate a postlude that gleams more in Martineau’s hands than Scolastra’s, just as his seascape seems more smiling, like the text’s billow. It may be significant that Britten and Pears never recorded this song.

How sweet the answer is a delightful song, one in which Britten’s arrangement makes the relationship between voice and piano closer, and he recorded this with Pears in 1961. It begins as a song in praise of echo, as of a lute or horn travelling a vast distance and, in the second verse, soft guitar. Britten introduces the echo in the piano introduction, a bell-like five-note motif, marked ‘clearly’ though pp and diminuendo as it progresses. Two notes, B and C sharp, repeated, then back to the B alone, the piece being in B major, then sometimes after a rest just a C sharp and B. It’s surprisingly mesmeric. Verse 2 (tr. 12, 0:46) is marked ‘more expressivo’ and Milhofer opens out with attractive lyricism. This claims that the echoing of lovers is better and verse 3 (1:22) provides specific detail in the exchange of sighs, which is where just the C sharp and Bs come into their own and the occasional left-hand basso profundo B (1:25, 1:37, 1:47) becomes telling. I feel these come a touch heavy from Scolastra for a suspiration, but you are meant to hear them, even at pp, and some prominence adds to the mystique. However, Pears and Britten are unlikely ever to be surpassed in this song: Britten for his luscious treatment of the motif and sense of stillness he immediately brings to the piano introduction, the verse 3 basso profundo notes smoother but still clear and the poise of his postlude; Pears for the purity of his lyricism and seemingly effortless sense of reflection, the whole experience distilled rather than projected; both for their perfect blending.

Volume 5 is another featuring the British Isles. My first choice is Early one morning, perhaps the best-known of all the folksongs and not uncommonly one in which a cheerful tune belies a text which is a tale of betrayal, the cheerfulness that of false love and feelings which the singer is nevertheless fondly revisiting. Britten’s ‘gently flowing’ piano introduction and thereafter accompaniment floats a three-note motif, just a spread common chord of G flat major, beginning with a cross-beat pull and with rests between its appearances: a simplicity matching that, disarmingly, of the text. Verse 2 (tr. 19, 0:39), ‘with movement’, introduces more action, the piano ‘warmer and always smooth’ but the interspersed rests and variations of rhythm exchanged for running quavers, though still with the cross-beat pull. Milhofer and Scolastra show this all to be more intent but not tense. Intensity is reached in verse 3 (1:06), marked ‘more expressive’ and achieved here in both piano and voice before the return in the final verse (1:37), ‘very quietly’ to the floating manner of the opening, the final piano chord with a long pause and a pause of silence marked thereafter, so you must pause and reflect with sorrow. I particularly liked one feature of finesse in Milhofer’s account: in the refrain at ‘poor maiden (first time, 0:32) he adds a trill to the first of two quavers on ‘poor.’ This can be stressed or not to varying degrees, according to the emotion of the moment.

But the song is that of a maiden betrayed, so is more appropriately sung by a soprano. Timing at 2:45 to Milhofer and Scolastra’s 2:27, Lorna Anderson with Malcolm Martineau in the Hyperion set give it a little more space and contrast which makes it an even more moving experience. The first and final sections have a present yet retrospective, reflective quality, almost epitaph like, Anderson’s smooth pleading of phrasing perfectly crafted, Martineau’s floating accompaniment a gentle cushion. Verses 2 and 3 are more markedly active flashbacks, louder and dramatic, which makes the return to softness in the final verse the more telling. Interestingly, in comparison with Milhofer, Anderson reserves a trill on ‘poor’ in the refrain for just the climactic point at the end of the third verse.

My other choice is Ca the yowes, a powerfully articulated love song to a text, originally by the Ayrshire poet Isabel Pagan, revised by Robert Burns for which words and English ‘translation’ in the CD booklet would be helpful. Fortunately, these can be found in Wikipedia by searching under the title. Britten’s arrangement is marked ‘Broadly’ from the piano ‘introduction’, which is just one arpeggiated chord, and ‘freely’ for the declamatory style of the chorus ‘Ca the yowes’ which opens the song. This is a rare occurrence in the Britten arrangements of sustained forte singing until the tellingly gentle close ‘My bonnie dearie’, with Milhofer quite rightly singing the Scots ‘Ma’. The strength, brawn, and sheer sonority of Milhofer and Scolastra here are stunning, though the soft verses between the returning chorus are more relaxed, natural, happy memories and I feel Scolastra’s accompaniment in the first, but not later, verses is too present. The nub of the setting is the third verse, the singer’s confession of love, where Milhofer becomes more engagingly intimate in the closing ppp line of the final chorus and even Scolastra’s elsewhere grand harp softens.

I compare Felicity Lott with Graham Johnston in the Naxos set. Pagan’s original version of the text was that of a shepherdess, but Burns’ revision could be by a shepherd or shepherdess. Timing at 3:38 to Milhofer/Scolastra’s 4:03, Lott/Johnston are less broad and provide less dynamic range, but Johnston’s less sonorous pianism conveys the feel of a harp accompanying throughout, especially in his dreamier pointing in the verse accompaniments, in the first two verses as if the voice is on cloud nine. Lott’s verses have a smiling recollection and her ‘Ma bonnie dearie’ is very seductive.

It's time to play the numbers game with regard to the three, as it turns out, variously incomplete, sets available. The Boosey & Hawkes collected edition has 61 songs, 47 of which appear in the Brilliant set under review. The Hyperion set offers 51, the Naxos 52. The Volume 6: England folksong arrangements (1961) are not included in the Brilliant set as they are originally for voice and guitar. Likewise, the Volume 7 Eight folksong arrangements (1976) for voice and harp are also omitted. Both these volumes are featured in the Hyperion set, but not the ten Tom Bowling and other song arrangements (2001) which this Brilliant set has. The Naxos set has Volume 6 but not Volume 7 and all the ten Tom Bowling and other song arrangements except Tom Bowling. Dink’s Song appears as an unpublished, unidentified wordless setting, played by cello with piano: it has one more verse than the published arrangement for voice and piano, with the accompaniment the same for the first two verses.

So, I finally return to Tom Bowling and other song arrangements, spaced broadly chronologically through this Brilliant set as shown in the contents list at the end of this review. I started with I wonder as I wander and now, I turn to Tom Bowling. This isn’t a folksong but a song by Charles Dibdin. As in I wonder as I wander, Britten’s main contribution is piano introduction and postlude. Marked ‘Slow march’, there is a tinselly element about Scolastra’s bright manner, while Milhofer brings the heroic declamation of a master of ceremonies. This account is to be more a celebration of Tom’s life than mourning for losing him, so the first verse postlude is happy. Only when Milhofer reaches ‘But mirth is turned to melancholy’ near the end of verse 2 is there a flicker of change and a suddenly moving, a touch quieter ‘for Tom is gone aloft’ and chastened postlude. But that’s about it: in verse 3 Milhofer sends Tom’s soul aloft in the heartiest manner.

Recorded in 1961, Pears and Britten, timing the song at 4:27 to Milhofer and Scolastra’s 3:28, bring more elegy than eulogy. From Britten’s piano introduction more care and reverence is discernible. From Pears this sensitivity extends to the poise with which the text is delivered, so you feel he is watching or remembering Tom going aloft in the exact timescale he’s singing about it. And what a wonderful radiance his top Gs have in the apex of that final phrase. Even Britten hints at a toy like procession in the introductions to verses 2 and 3, contrasting the neat neutrality of a formal ceremony with the personal, emotive remembrance of the song, but Britten brings to his final postlude a heavenly aura.

My last choice is Dink’s Song, because Milhofer/Scolastra alone of the three recorded ‘complete’ folksong arrangements present this with words as I explained earlier. Chronologically it doesn’t fit here, being an American folk song of Britten’s stay there, much the same time as I wonder as I wander. But emotionally it very much suits the end of this set, its keyword being the ‘Fare thee well’ of its refrain and its key endeavour, the ‘well’ being a sustained top A with a pause. Nowadays we’re more likely to say ‘Bye’, not even ‘Goodbye’, or ‘See you’ and will therefore forget ‘Farewell’ is a blessing. But you remember after hearing this song, even as it gives absolution in a poignant story, that of an African American woman deserted by her lover, the reference to wearing aprons high indicating pregnancy, at which the lover makes himself scarce. The song is marked ‘Slow and free’ and Milhofer excels in it, yet if anything even more rapturous in the pp final verse when the lady says she’ll soon no longer be around. As with I wonder as I wander, Britten’s main contribution is a phrase introducing every verse and finally providing a postlude. It’s like a relaxed guitar riff, with just one touch of ornamentation; but Scolastra invests it with a roundedness that seems an epitome of the lady’s character.

However, this is a song that should be sung by a woman and I’ve found a 2007 recording for comparison, sung on a CD of Old American Songs by the soprano Taryn Fiebig with Andrew Greene at the piano (ABC Classics 4817120). Timing at 2:53 to Milhofer/Scolastra’s 3:20, they are less slow but certainly free. Greene’s introductions have a well-oiled quality while Fiebig’s phrasing, sleek and smooth, brings a manner of lingering consideration to her words that makes the entire presentation more provocative.

I admire Milhofer/Scolastra’s staying power: as a partnership they have recorded more of this repertory than anyone else. Even Pears/Britten who sang it more over a number of years only recorded 26 of the songs here, as noted in the contents below. I have, however, commented where I feel the texts ought to be sung by a woman and this is where the Hyperion and Naxos sets have the advantage. A bonus in this Brilliant set is an excellent booklet note by Milhofer, a very accessible setting the songs in context, but a disadvantage in comparison with the Hyperion and Naxos sets is the absence of song texts, not so much in the English folk songs as Milhofer’s diction is great, but the French and sometimes Scots ones. My overall impression of the Milhofer/Scolastra performances is of a deal of care taken and detail successfully conveyed. Pears and Britten, where recordings exist, remain indispensable for their insights into the nature and performance of the texts, but Milhofer and Scolastra manage to chart a mid-course between the drawing attention to the art song qualities of the Naxos set and the more dramatic, folksier flavour of the Hyperion set. The result in this Brilliant set is a comprehensive collection of great freshness and variety.

Michael Greenhalgh

Previous review: Roy Westbrook

 
Contents
CD1
Tom Bowling and Other Song Arrangements (2001)
- tr. 1, I wonder as I wander (1940-1941?)
Volume 1, British Isles (1941(?)-1942)
- tr. 2, The Salley Gardens* [* indicates Pears/Britten have professionally recorded]
- tr. 3, Little Sir William*
- tr. 4, The Bonny Earl o’ Moray*
- tr. 5, O can ye sew cushions?
- tr. 6, The trees they grow so high
- tr. 7, The Ash Grove*
- tr. 8, Oliver Cromwell*
Tom Bowling and Other Song Arrangements (2001)
- tr. 9, The Crocodile (before 1941)
- tr. 10, Greensleeves (1941?)
- tr. 11, The Holly and the Ivy (date unknown)
Volume 2, France (1942)
- tr. 12, La Nol passée
- tr. 13, Voici le printemps
- tr. 14, Fileuse
- tr. 15, Le roi s’en va-t’en chasse*
- tr. 16, La belle est au jardin d’amour*
- tr. 17, Il est quelqu’un sur terre
- tr. 18, Eho! Eho!
- tr. 19, Quand j’etais sur mon père (* in English)
Volume 3, British Isles (1945-6)
- tr. 20, The Plough Boy *
- tr. 21, There’s none to soothe*
- tr. 22, Sweet Polly Oliver*
- tr. 23, The Miller of Dee*
- tr. 24, The Foggy, Foggy Dew*
Tom Bowling and Other Song Arrangements (2001)
- tr. 25, The Stream in the Valley (with Umberto Aleandri, cello) (before 1946)
CD2
Volume 3, British Isles (1945-6) continued
- tr. 1, O Waly, Waly*
- tr. 2, Come you not from Newcastle? *
Tom Bowling and Other Song Arrangements (2001)
- tr. 3, Pray goody (1945-6?)
- tr. 4, The Deaf Woman's Courtship (with Lorna Windsor, soprano) (c. 1958)
Volume 4, Moore’s Irish Melodies
- tr. 5, At the mid hour of night
- tr. 6, Rich and rare
- tr. 7, Dear Harp of my Country
- tr. 8, The last rose of summer*
- tr. 9, O the sight entrancing
- tr. 10, Avenging and Bright*
- tr. 11, Sail on
- tr. 12, How Sweet the Answer*
- tr. 13, The Minstrel Boy*
- tr. 14, Oft in the Stilly Night*
Tom Bowling and Other Song Arrangements (2001)
- tr. 15, Soldier, Won't You Marry Me? (with Lorna Windsor, soprano) (before 1958)
Volume 5, British Isles
- tr. 16, The Brisk Young Widow*
- tr. 17, Sally in our Alley*
- tr. 18, The Lincolnshire Poacher*
- tr. 19, Early one morning*
- tr. 20, Ca’ the yowes*
Tom Bowling and Other Song Arrangements (2001)
- tr. 21, Tom Bowling* (before 1959)
- tr. 22, Dink’s Song (date unknown)