Phillip T Young Recital Hall
May 29, 2013
"Here was something entirely new to us and yet not new. We felt that this was what we expected our national melody to be, we knew somehow that when we first heard 'Dives and Lazarus' or 'Bushes and Briars' that this was just what we were looking for. We we were dazzled, we wanted to preach a new gospel, we wanted to rhapsodize on these tunes just as Liszt and Grieg had done on theirs."
Ralph Vaughan Williams, in his essay "The Evolution of the Folk-song" was describing the early days of the "Folk-song Movement". He first encountered the melody of "Dives and Lazarus" in 1893 in English Country Songs; during his own collecting years he encountered numerous variants of the tune, which he used in the English Folksong Suite of 1923 and the Te Deum of 1937.
But it was his commission by the British Council for a work to be performed at the 1939 New York World's Fair which resulted in his most extensive treatment of the melody. Five Variants of "Dives and Lazarus" is well-named: the form is not theme-and-variations but theme and "reminiscences of various versions [of the melody] in my own collection and those of others".
For me, Dives and Lazarus was the most-anticipated - I have loved the music for almost half a century yet never encountered a live performance before (and yes, I know the Galiano Ensemble played it some dozen year ago, but I was, alas, out of the country) - and the most rewarding part of Wednesday's now, apparently, annual celebration of English String Music.
From the gorgeous unison statement of the theme to the magical final pianissimo bars, this was a wonderful performance, a long outpouring of melody clothed in the continually varying textures of seven string parts (two each of violin, viola and cello, plus doublebass) enriched with the bell-like tones of the harp (the composer states "double if possible" but that really would be asking for the moon).
Yariv Aloni, as he did all evening, displayed his remarkable affinity with, affection for and mastery of this most English of idioms, ably assisted by his first-class ensemble and enlivened by an exquisite cello solo from Pamela Highbaugh Aloni, and Josh Layne's ravishing harp.
Gustav Holst was Vaughan Williams's greatest friend; the pair used to discuss each other's compositions at great length and Vaughan Williams was bereft when his friend died in 1934 (that annus horribilis of English music, which also saw the deaths of Elgar and Delius).
The St. Paul's Suite was composed for his students at the eponymous school in Hammersmith and opened Wednesday's programme.
The opening Jig began with a firm unison, already evincing the excellent tone which would be evident throughout the evening. Aloni's attention to dynamics also paid dividends. A particular highlight was the third movement Intermezzo ("Dance" in the manuscript) with its exotic violin solo giving an almost North African feel (Ann Elliott-Goldschmid in customary fine form). The finale, in which the bouncy Dargason (another folk melody) eventually combines with the soaring sound of Greensleeves, swept all before it.
Gerald Finzi is a composer whose melodies insinuate rather than grab. This is unfortunate as it generally takes more than one hearing for the music to make its full impact and performances are consequently not common.
Finzi's Romance for strings is no exception - indeed, I overheard one audience member saying, at the end of the concert, that it was his least favourite music of the evening.
For me (being familiar with the music on record) its ravishing seven minutes was pure unalloyed bliss.
The other two composers in Wednesday's programme are both best-known for music other than that which we heard played: John Ireland's most popular music, despite a considerable output, is probably the score to the film The Overlanders, although churchgoers will be more familiar with his hymn-tune "My Song is Love Unknown".
Ireland's Concertino Pastorale closed the first half of the programme and, despite some moments of considerable interest - the tense opening, with ominous cellos, the lushness of the second movement, the busy syncopation of the finale - lacked an identifiable personality. Needless to say, it was played as well as could be hoped for.
Haydn Wood is mainly known for his light music, of which the best-known (although not necessarily associated by many with his name) is the song "Roses of Picardy".
Before the success of that song, however, Wood had, in 1905 as a students of Sir Charles Villiers Stanford, won the inaugural Cobbett Musical Competition for chamber music, with his Phantasie in F for string quartet.
Over four decades later, in 1949, Wood reworked the Phantasie into the Fantasy-Concerto for string orchestra.
This was the second concerto-without-soloists of the evening (although my irritating French alter ego, M. le Pedant, points out that the Ireland was actually a concertino); its three linked sections (the separate tempo indications in the programme caused a certain confusion among the audience) displaying a total lack of endebtedness to folk-song, although its melodies were not as immediately attractive as in Wood's more popular music.
Indeed, I found the music charming but a little unmemorable and with a tendency to meander. But one could hardly find fault with the performance, although I think I would have placed it earlier in the programme.
A event which fulfilled all expectations. Again.