Sir Malcolm ARNOLD (1921-2006)
Grand Concerto Gastronomique for Eater, Waiter, Food and Large Orchestra, Op 76 (1961) [15.06]
Symphony No 9 in D major, Op 128 (1986) [42.31]
Anna Gorbachova-Ogilvie (soprano)
Liepāja Symphony Orchestra/John Gibbons
rec. Great Amber Concert Hall, Liepāja, Latvia 14-16 June 2021, (soprano only) St. Mary’s, Perivale, Middlesex, 29 July 2021
TOCCATA CLASSICS TOCC0613 [57.40]
Lovers of Malcolm Arnold will want to listen to these performances, not least because The Grand Concerto Gastronomique is a world premiere on CD. Though it is full of characteristic Arnold touches, and will give pleasure, it is not the best starting point for coming to grips with Arnold as one of the greatest of English composers.
On the other hand, the Ninth Symphony, several times recorded, but too rarely publicly performed, is a significant piece, here receiving a very individual performance in an interpretation which is never run-of-the mill, but which will, I think, divide opinion. John Gibbons, the conductor, is an underrated conductor, whose quiet but determined championship of English composers, notably George Lloyd and Malcolm Arnold, should bring his work to wider attention. I recall a superb Lloyd 4th in a live performance with the Worthing Symphony Orchestra a couple of years ago.
The question is of how the final Lento– which overshadows, not only in length, the previous three brief movements – should be understood. Lento means ‘slowly’, and is often taken at around 56-58 beats per minute. In a sleeve-note, Gibbons says that he felt ‘the pulse as a tactus rather than a crochet beat, which allows the music to flow inexorably towards the sublime D major resolution at the end of the work.’ [A tactus is an accent or unit of rhythm which was a common feature of 15th and 16th Century music]. He argues that his instinct is not to see the work as one of Mahlerian angst, but writes instead of the influence of Anthony Payne’s realisation of Elgar’s Third and also of Bruckner’s Ninth, which each balance pain and intensity with peace and serenity. The result is noticeably different from other recordings. A tactus is generally performed at 60-75 beats per minute. To exemplify the point, in the three complete cycles, Andrew Penny takes 23.10 for the movement (recorded in the presence of the composer), Vernon Handley 23.48, and Rumon Gamba 24.12. Gibbons, at 17.57 is very much quicker. I was not convinced by Gibbons’ approach, but others will find it revelatory. For me, the decisive comment was Arnold’s. In an interview, referring to the final glorious D major, Arnold said ‘without that chord, the surrender to nihilism and despair would be total’. The mood of Bruckner and Elgar is never ‘nihilism and despair’, nor is it Mahler’s occasional frenzy, but emptyiness was very much part of the tortured genius of Arnold, a man who plumbed the depths of neglect and grief in his own troubled life. I think Handley’s performance the finest, with a controlled nobility which never denies the despair, but there is much to admire in the others cited.
There other three movements provide less contentious, thoughtful performances. The Liepāja Symphony Orchestra is not of the first rank, but Gibbons coaxes some fine, often idiomatic, playing, and the pared-back lines of Arnold’s writing (just two parts) emerge in their spartan simplicity.
The Grand Concerto Gastronomique for Eater, Waiter, Food and Large Orchestra is not a major addition to the Arnold catalogue. Like A Grand, Ground Overture, it was written for a Hoffnung concert. The stage action matters for both pieces, yet recordings of the overture capture the sound of the floor polishers, vacuum cleaners and rifle shots; but in the Concerto the action cannot in any sense be heard. We have instead a suite of six short orchestral pieces, in characteristic Arnold style, very pleasing on the ear, but not demanding revisiting. The wordless soprano, in the fifth movement, is part of an interesting tribute to Nellie Melba.
On the production side, Arnold lovers will be indebted to Timothy Bowers’ superb and detailed analytical notes, especially on the Ninth Symphony. Given, by modern standards, the relatively short playing-time, it might have been possible to have squeezed in one of Arnold’s less well-known overtures.
Michael Wilkinson
Previous review: Hubert Culot
