Ruth Gipps Orchestral Works, Volume 3 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Coronation Procession, Op. 41; Ambarvalia, Op. 70; Concerto for Horn and Orchestra, Op. 58; Cringlemire Garden, Op. 29; Symphony No. 1, Op. 22. Martin Owen, horn; Rumon Gamba, conductor; BBC Philharmonic. Chandos 20284

In this third installment of Ruth Gipps’s orchestral music, Chandos shows that there is plenty else by the Englishwoman that is worth exploring. Indeed, a couple of what I consider to be her finest compositions are on this disc. I imagine that few listeners are somehow already familiar with the “dance” Ambarvalia, which receives its premiere recording here. Despite its modest playing time of just over 7 minutes, this tribute to composer Adrian Cruft (who died early in 1987) is one of the loveliest British orchestral works I have ever heard. If I am not mistaken, it is Gipps’s last composition for an orchestral ensemble (albeit a small orchestra in this case). By this point Gipps had fully assimilated her influences and was able to wield a distinctive personal voice. In her mature works she often loves to revel in rippling melody and turquoise hues. These are nowhere better evidenced than in Ambarvalia, which deserves to adorn live concerts with at least intermittent regularity. 

 

Of course, many horn players have long known the Horn Concerto of 1968, already the beneficiary of multiple recordings. While not exactly a miniature work like Ambarvalia, its three movements are relatively short and feature many of the same stylistic fingerprints. A certain pastoral dreaminess governs the proceedings despite some virtuosic passages for the soloist. But what we hear is not merely second-hand Vaughan Williams; Gipps’ aesthetic world here is very much her own, whatever she occasionally owes to her famous teacher. Soloist Martin Owens may lack some of David Pyatt’s glittering brilliance (Lyrita SRCD316), but the former’s velvety tone strikes me as a better fit for such a balmy score. 

 

Rumon Gamba

While I’m comparatively less impressed with the other works performed here, all of them offer at least pleasant listening experiences. Each is from earlier in Gipps’s career. The Coronation Procession of 1953 is approximately the length as Ambarvalia, although perhaps lacking its younger sibling’s stronger flavor. Savvy listeners might recall the middle section melody being used in Malcolm Arnold’s Variations on a Theme of Ruth Gipps (1977). (The two composers were close friends from their student days. They also had much in common as opponents of avant-gardism during the age of its ascendance.) In his unsurprisingly excellent liner notes, musicologist Lewis Foreman calls Cringlemire Garden a “pastoral miniature.” Gipps herself subtitled it “An Impression for String Orchestra.” Indeed, the inspiration was the Lake District landscape. Compared to everything heard so far, this work is more glaringly indebted to Vaughan Williams. Though nice, I am not sure it is strong enough to compete with its more distinguished models. 

The third item receiving its premiere recording here is Gipps’s First Symphony, composed in 1942. This is the product of a student. It’s an extremely impressive effort for being that, but stylistically pretty much “Vaughan Williams plus water” (to modify a criticism once leveled, less truthfully, at the music of Charles Villiers Stanford). While Gipps would go on to compose four more masterfully constructed symphonies, she never quite sounds as convincing in them as she does in her smaller creations. The themes and pastel colors with which she paints in selections such as Ambarvalia, or even the Horn Concerto, poorly transplant to more extended structures. As one can read from my published work, I’m far from a stickler for traditional “symphonic form.” Much the opposite! But Gipps simply fails to hold the (or my) attention in this medium as she does in the best of her more concentrated efforts. 

 

All in all, Volume 3 delivers a soundly worthwhile listening experience. Conductor Rumon Gamba and his musicians yet again adroitly give some worthy music good exposure. I can’t help thinking, though, as I partake of release upon release churned out by Chandos and others, about potential audiences. How much of even the best of this material is being heard, and by whom? How much stands to catch on or endure in the ever-fraught marketplace for classical music? This is all increasingly on my mind, with no concrete answers in sight.

Carlos Simon: Four Symphonic Works (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Simon: The Block; Tales: A Folklore Symphony; Songs of Separation*; Wake Up! Concerto for Orchestra. *J’Nai Bridges, mezzo-soprano; National Symphony Orchestra; Gianandrea Noseda, conductor. National Symphony Orchestra NSO0018 

Carlos Simon (b. 1986), Composer-in-Residence at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, is passionate about engaging in social outreach. Much of his musical output addresses themes that include migration, belonging, and community, with an emphasis on the transatlantic slave trade and the injustices people of African ancestry still face today. His upbringing as the son of a Pentecostal preacher has resulted in his music displaying classical forms in which often can be heard jazz, hip-hop, and gospel influences. Those influences are evident throughout this release, starting with The Block, a brief (6:37) orchestral piece that Simon wrote to capture the feeling of then visual art of the late African American artist Romare Bearden; indeed, the piece has a vibrant, colorful energy about it that immediately grabs your attention. Tales: A Folklore Symphony consists of four movements that Simon gives the fascinating titles: I. Motherboxx Connection, II. Flying Africans, III. Go Down Moses (Let my People Go), IV. John Henry. Simon explains the titles in his booklet notes, but it should be reasonably obvious that they are related to the themes mentioned above. The music itself is colorful -- and dramatic in places, especially in Go Down Moses, the longest movement. 

The Songs of Separation find Simon giving orchestral settings to four brief poems by Rumi – The Garden, Burning Hell, Dance, and We Are All the Same. The first finds the voice being overwhelmed by the orchestra, but the others – especially Burning Hell – are better balanced. The closing Wake Up! Concerto for Orchestra is a twenty-minute showpiece for the National Symphony Orchestra to display its virtuosity under the baton of its Music Director, the Italian-born conductor Gianandrea Noseda (b. 1964). There is a strong rhythmic sense throughout, with plenty of percussion and a continual sense of motion. Special note needs to be made of the overall high standard of this release in general. The physical product is sturdy, far superior to the typical CD package. This is a Hybrid-SACD release; I auditioned the standard CD layer, but the disc also includes a high-density stereo layer plus a 5.0 channel surround track that can be played back SACD players. There are informative liner notes about the music and the performers; not only that, the sound quality, with engineering by the renowned experts at Soundmirror, is first-class. This is a superb release in every dimension.