Also, English Folk Songs; Symphony No. 8 in D minor; England, my England. Martyn Brabbins, conductor; BBC Symphony Orchestra; BBC Symphony Chorus; Roderic Williams, baritone. Hyperion CDA68396.
2022 marks the sesquicentennial anniversary of certainly the greatest British composer and arguably one of the world’s greatest composers ever, one who often goes overlooked but surely belongs right up there with the very best ever to have composed music, Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958). Except for his Tallis Fantasia and The Lark Ascending, you will almost never encounter any of his music on a concert program here in the USA, which is a real shame. Thank goodness we have recordings! For example, there are excellent boxed CD sets of his complete nine symphonies available at remarkably affordable prices conducted by Slatkin (my favorite overall), Previn (wonderful – my other favorite), Boult (the touchstone), and Bakels (surprisingly good). There are also of course other individual recordings of his symphonies, concertos, chamber music, songs, etc. that are well worth seeking out, many of which have been reviewed here at Classical Candor and can easily be looked up by scrolling down to the Vaughan Williams link in our list of composers.
This new release led by British conductor Martyn Brabbins (b. 1959) belongs right up there in any discussion of the best recordings of RVW’s symphonies. The opening measures of Symphony No. 6 explode with energy, but the sound is well balanced from top to bottom in terms of frequency response as well as side-to-side and front-to-back in terms of stereo imaging. From the drama of the opening the symphony proceeds fairly straightforwardly, at least in terms of structure, with a Moderato second movement, and an energetic Scherzo third movement. Then there comes the final movement, which the composer designates with the unusual marking of Epilogue: Moderato. The liner notes point out that when the symphony was first performed, back in 1948 when the composer was 75, the “perceived nihilism” of the quiet last movement was thought by many in the public to be a reaction to or symbol of nuclear annihilation in the wake of the development and deployment of the atomic bomb in 1945 – a view that Vaughan Williams denied.
It is a unique symphony – explosively powerful opening, eerily quiet ending, but beautiful from start to finish – and Brabbins, the BBC Orchestra, and Hyperion’s engineering team do it full justice throughout. Brabbins never seems to rush, never seems to drag, never seems to underline or exaggerate, yet the music speaks with dramatic power when need be and whispered nuance in those placid yet in some ways unsettling final minutes.
Symphony No. 8 is a lighter work, but a delightfully entertaining one, full of lively high spirits. As a special note of contrast: while the final movement of No. 6 consists of ten quiet, mysterious minutes, the final movement of No. 8 consists of five lively minutes with plenty of boisterous brass and lively percussion – a treat for the ears as performed with great gusto by Brabbins and his BBC forces.
In addition to the two symphonies, Hyperion has included some bonus musical material. The three English folk songs that come between the two symphonies are sung by the BBC Symphony Chorus. These were probably composed around 1912 but were never published; in fact, the performances on this release are almost certainly the first time these arrangements have ever been heard. There is nothing profound here – these are folk songs, after all – but the music is fun and the songs make for a pleasant interlude between the two symphonies. Following the performance of Symphony No. 8, the program is closed out by England, my England, a choral song for baritone, chorus, and orchestra, which Vaughan Williams composed in 1941 for a BBC radio broadcast. As the liner notes point out, “it displays a rare nationalism in Vaughan Williams’s output – an extended tune of quasi-Elgarian stamp, candid in its expression, and sorely needed at the time early in World War II when Britain stood alone.”
Of course, the main interest for the majority of music lovers will be the two symphonies, both of which have been served exceedingly well by both the musicians and the engineers. If you have never heard the Vaughan Williams Symphony No. 6, this new release from Hyperion would be a perfect introduction, with an excellent account of Symphony No. 8 as a bonus. Add to that the splendid engineering and a recommendation falls right into place.
Bonus Book Recommendation:
Beauty and Sadness: Mahler’s 11 Symphonies by David Vernon (Candle Row Press, 2022).
Dr. David Vernon is a British academic and author with a passion for music, language, and literature. He has previously published a book on Wagner (Disturbing the Universe: Wagner's Musikdrama), has recently completed a book on Nabokov that will be published soon (Ada to Zembla: The Novels of Vladimir Nabokov), and is currently working on a book about Beethoven’s string quartets. His book on Mahler’s symphonies provides a deep dive into these 11 works (the 10 numbered symphonies plus Das Lied von der Erde). As you might expect, Vernon considers how events in Mahler’s life Mahler might have influenced his compositions, as do many other authors who have written about Mahler’s music, but he also goes on to explore many more aspects of Mahler’s symphonic achievements.
As Vernon explains in his introduction: “No two Mahler symphonies are alike, but there is a remarkable continuity and connection between the eleven, both a spirit and a thread. Each takes you into a new condition, a new world and realm of feeling, a detachment and engagement that lasts for an hour, an hour and a half. This book contains imaginative explorations of all eleven of them. Each chapter proceeds from a discussion of the contextual, personal, historical, cultural, philosophical and musical rudiments which forged the symphony; it then delves more deeply and systematically into the work itself, movement by movement.” And delve Vernon does, diving deeply into both the background of each symphony and the music itself – discussing the symphony as a whole and the individual movements.
His writing is rich, complex, and erudite. This is not a book that you can just casually skim through, because Vernon’s analyses are complex and his language is sophisticated. However, Beauty and Sadness is not at all dry and academic; far from it – it is passionate and personal, clearly written from Vernon’s deep love for Mahler’s music and his heartfelt desire to interest others in Mahler’s remarkable music. To that end, he even provides an appendix with his recommendations of other books on Mahler’s life and music that he has found to be “among the most captivating and beneficial.” Having myself read the first two books he recommends (Gustav Mahler: An Introduction to His Music by Deryck Cooke and Mahler by Michael Kennedy) early in my own discovery of Mahler’s music, I can vouch for those recommendations. But for the passionate Mahler fan eager to dive ever more deeply into Mahler’s music, Beauty and Sadness, which is available both as a relatively inexpensive paperback and an even more inexpensive e-book, is a richly rewarding resource.
KWN
This new release led by British conductor Martyn Brabbins (b. 1959) belongs right up there in any discussion of the best recordings of RVW’s symphonies. The opening measures of Symphony No. 6 explode with energy, but the sound is well balanced from top to bottom in terms of frequency response as well as side-to-side and front-to-back in terms of stereo imaging. From the drama of the opening the symphony proceeds fairly straightforwardly, at least in terms of structure, with a Moderato second movement, and an energetic Scherzo third movement. Then there comes the final movement, which the composer designates with the unusual marking of Epilogue: Moderato. The liner notes point out that when the symphony was first performed, back in 1948 when the composer was 75, the “perceived nihilism” of the quiet last movement was thought by many in the public to be a reaction to or symbol of nuclear annihilation in the wake of the development and deployment of the atomic bomb in 1945 – a view that Vaughan Williams denied.
It is a unique symphony – explosively powerful opening, eerily quiet ending, but beautiful from start to finish – and Brabbins, the BBC Orchestra, and Hyperion’s engineering team do it full justice throughout. Brabbins never seems to rush, never seems to drag, never seems to underline or exaggerate, yet the music speaks with dramatic power when need be and whispered nuance in those placid yet in some ways unsettling final minutes.
Symphony No. 8 is a lighter work, but a delightfully entertaining one, full of lively high spirits. As a special note of contrast: while the final movement of No. 6 consists of ten quiet, mysterious minutes, the final movement of No. 8 consists of five lively minutes with plenty of boisterous brass and lively percussion – a treat for the ears as performed with great gusto by Brabbins and his BBC forces.
In addition to the two symphonies, Hyperion has included some bonus musical material. The three English folk songs that come between the two symphonies are sung by the BBC Symphony Chorus. These were probably composed around 1912 but were never published; in fact, the performances on this release are almost certainly the first time these arrangements have ever been heard. There is nothing profound here – these are folk songs, after all – but the music is fun and the songs make for a pleasant interlude between the two symphonies. Following the performance of Symphony No. 8, the program is closed out by England, my England, a choral song for baritone, chorus, and orchestra, which Vaughan Williams composed in 1941 for a BBC radio broadcast. As the liner notes point out, “it displays a rare nationalism in Vaughan Williams’s output – an extended tune of quasi-Elgarian stamp, candid in its expression, and sorely needed at the time early in World War II when Britain stood alone.”
Of course, the main interest for the majority of music lovers will be the two symphonies, both of which have been served exceedingly well by both the musicians and the engineers. If you have never heard the Vaughan Williams Symphony No. 6, this new release from Hyperion would be a perfect introduction, with an excellent account of Symphony No. 8 as a bonus. Add to that the splendid engineering and a recommendation falls right into place.
Bonus Book Recommendation:
Beauty and Sadness: Mahler’s 11 Symphonies by David Vernon (Candle Row Press, 2022).
As Vernon explains in his introduction: “No two Mahler symphonies are alike, but there is a remarkable continuity and connection between the eleven, both a spirit and a thread. Each takes you into a new condition, a new world and realm of feeling, a detachment and engagement that lasts for an hour, an hour and a half. This book contains imaginative explorations of all eleven of them. Each chapter proceeds from a discussion of the contextual, personal, historical, cultural, philosophical and musical rudiments which forged the symphony; it then delves more deeply and systematically into the work itself, movement by movement.” And delve Vernon does, diving deeply into both the background of each symphony and the music itself – discussing the symphony as a whole and the individual movements.
His writing is rich, complex, and erudite. This is not a book that you can just casually skim through, because Vernon’s analyses are complex and his language is sophisticated. However, Beauty and Sadness is not at all dry and academic; far from it – it is passionate and personal, clearly written from Vernon’s deep love for Mahler’s music and his heartfelt desire to interest others in Mahler’s remarkable music. To that end, he even provides an appendix with his recommendations of other books on Mahler’s life and music that he has found to be “among the most captivating and beneficial.” Having myself read the first two books he recommends (Gustav Mahler: An Introduction to His Music by Deryck Cooke and Mahler by Michael Kennedy) early in my own discovery of Mahler’s music, I can vouch for those recommendations. But for the passionate Mahler fan eager to dive ever more deeply into Mahler’s music, Beauty and Sadness, which is available both as a relatively inexpensive paperback and an even more inexpensive e-book, is a richly rewarding resource.
KWN
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