Holst: The Planets; Bax: Tintagel (Streaming Review)

by Ryan Ross

Antonio Pappano, conductor; London Symphony Orchestra. LSO Live 0904

The London Symphony Orchestra's commitment to British repertoire continues apace, with these two 2024 live Barbican performances led by chief conductor Antonio Pappano. They pair an established favorite (Holst's The Planets) with a work that deserves equal love (Bax's Tintagel). My provisional opinion of Pappano is that he is a fine if somewhat inconsistent conductor, so I was curious how he'd handle this duo. I’d say he comes just under my benchmark. Here's a good and not a great Planets, followed by a mediocre rather than good Tintagel.

 

The best things about this Planets are superb recorded sound and what it does for Pappano’s handling of the numinous passages. Delicate timbres in Mercury, Saturn, and Neptune, for instance, sparkle with radiant mystery. Here is an object lesson in what’s possible when technology, orchestral skill, and conductor sensitivity work together effectively. If there were nothing more to The Planets, this would rate among its top recordings. Unfortunately for Pappano, there is. The extravert sides of this masterpiece are both more iconic and exactly where he comes up short. The marches in Jupiter and Uranus feel sluggish, with the Thaxted tune missing that last bit of earnestness. Mars is bright enough, but its aggression is blunted by a slowish main pace and positively languid middle portions. Especially regrettable is a dimmed lyrical brass when the outer sections turn to major-mode affirmation. This should sound much more battle-lusty. “Mars the Bringer of Peace Talks” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

 

Before I go any further, I’ll confess to being a committed Baxian. This composer definitely got the short end of the historiographical stick. The same modernist snobbery that bit Vaughan Williams’s reception hard following his death doomed the once-prominent Arnold Bax to a marginality from which he’s never re-emerged. To the extent his name has been kept alive it’s thanks significantly to Tintagel, of which there are now well more than a dozen recordings. There should be even more. With perhaps 2-3 of Bax’s other tone poems, it’s some of the most compelling music to come out of Britain. If a revival of his oeuvre is still possible, it will build on these treasures.

 

Which is why I’m sad to report that Pappano’s Tintagel is a squandered opportunity. If you expect him to apply his best, RVW 4-style vigor you’ll be disappointed. This is a lethargic Tintagel that captures the seascape portion of Bax’s program remarks, but perhaps only on a cloudy day. It misses what he says of Arthur and Tristan, of knights and legends. Pappano and the LSO sink beneath the music’s luxurious harmonies like a leaky barge off the Cornish coast. They don’t seem comfortable with the composer’s thick textures. Compare this with David Lloyd-Jones’s definitive interpretation from over two decades ago (Naxos 8.557145), where there is a much stronger grasp of the idiom. Lloyd-Jones knew how to navigate those big blocks of sound, and to keep his orchestra from getting bogged down. His approach is bold and virile, while Pappano succumbs to flabbiness. In a world hungry for fantasy, Tintagel has the potential to capture audience imagination. Pappano’s LSO may sparkle in Holst’s cosmic mysteries, but when it comes to Bax’s immersive world of myth, the magic simply doesn’t take hold.

 

The nice thing about our streaming age is that I can resist recommendations on the basis of whole albums. About 4-5 tracks of this recording are well worth buying and putting into playlists. I wouldn’t mind if I never heard the others again. As someone who still loves the hard product, with its booklets and cover art, I’ll at least take the win of having piecemeal options here.

Recent Releases No. 74 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Cantabile: Anthems for Viola. Jonathan Harvey: Chant; Vaughan Williams: Romance; Bright Sheng: The Stream Flows; Bax: Sonata for Viola and Piano; Augusta Read Thomas: Song Without Words; Britten: Lachrymae: Reflections on a song of Dowland. Jordan Bak, viola; Richard Uttley, piano. Delphian DCD34317

The 29-year-old Jamaican-American violist Jordan Bak brings us music by composers both familiar and less well known on this new Delphian release. The opening selection, Chant, is a short (3:33) piece for solo viola written in 1992 by the British composer Jonathan Harvey (1939-2012). It has an edge to it but is never overly strident or harsh; if anything, it offers Bak an excellent way to grab our attention as he shows how his viola can speak – “chant” – with passion and expressive power. Then he brings us an unfamiliar piece from a familiar composer, the soothingly beautiful Romance by Vaughan Williams, for which he is joined by pianist Richard Uttley. This music is the serene, pastoral music for which Vaughan Williams is so beloved on both sides of the Atlantic, with both Bak and Uttley playing with conviction and warmth. More music for solo viola follows, with The Stream Flows by the Chinese-American composer Bright Sheng (b. 1955) seeming to flow naturally out from the RVW that precedes it, continuing along in a similar pastoral mood.

Pianist Uttley returns to join Bak for the remainder of the album, beginning with the next composition, the centerpiece of the program, Bax’s Sonata for Viola and Piano, which he began working on in 1920 and completed in 1922. The legendary violist Lionel Tertis gave the first performance, accompanied by the composer himself on piano. It is a substantial work in three movements, lasting about 28 minutes as performed here by Bak and Uttley. The first moment is lyrical and lovely, the second is more dramatic, and then the final movement is again lyrical, but with more of a somber feeling. It is a truly entertaining, engaging, and moving piece of music overall, with the rich tone of Bak’s viola being the perfect vehicle for Bax’s melodic gift. 

Next on the program is another work by a composer unfamiliar to me, Song without Words by the American composer Augusta Read Thomas (b. 1964). The work exists in several versions, this arrangement for viola and piano having been specifically created for Bak and Uttley. According to the CD booklet, “the work’s gestures and myriad expressive details are directly informed by the poem; ‘I have found what you are like’ by E.E. Cummings, with Read Thomas’s music responding to and projecting its deep layers of meaning without uttering a word.” It’s an enigmatic piece, with ruminative lines from the viola punctuated by stabbing, inquisitive little phrases from the piano. Both instruments seem representative of a mind deep in thought and reflection. The program then closes with Britten’s Lachrymae, a series of 11 short “Reflections on a song of Dowland” by Benjamin Britten. This is a rather severe work, the least tuneful on the program. Some listeners will enjoy some of its moments of musical intensity, while others may find it somewhat on the abstract and disjointed side.

On the plus side, the liner notes are excellent, as is the sound quality. With more than 67 minutes of interesting viola music, this new Delphian release should have great appeal to fans of quality chamber music.

Zartir. Georges I. Gurdjieff, Thomas de Hartmann: Pythia; No. 10; Sayyid Chant and Dance No. 41; Introduction and Funeral Ceremony; Oriental Dance; Kankaravor Enker (Friend of Talents); Ashugh Jivani: Dard Mi Ani (Do Not Fret); Sayat-Nova: Thirty Gestures; Gurdjieff, de Hartmann: Prayer and Despair; Sayyid Chant and Dance No. 42; Ashkharhes Me Panjarae (The World Is a Window); Sayat-Nova: Trembling Dervish; Baghdasar Dpir: Zartir (Wake Up); Gurdjieff, de Hartmann: The Great Prayer. The Gurdjieff Ensemble (Vladimir Papikyan, voice, santur, burvar, tmbuk, singing bowls; Emmanuel Hovhannisyan: duduk, pku; Meri Vardanyan, kanon; Armen Ayvazyan, kamancha, cymbal; Gagik Hakobyan; duduk; Norayr Gapoyan, duduk, bass duduk, pku; Avag Margaryan; blul; Aram Nikoghosyan; Oud; Astghik Snetsunts, kanon; Davit Avagyan, tar; Mesrop Khalatyan, dap, tmbuk, bells, triangle; Orestis Moustidis, tombak; Levon Eskenian, Artistic Director; National Chamber Choir of Armenia, Robert Mlkeyan, director. ECM 2788

Quoting from Wikipedia, “George Ivanovich Gurdjieff (c. 1867 – 29 October 1949) was a philosopher, mystic, spiritual teacher, composer, and ‘dance teacher.’ Gurdjieff taught that people are not conscious of themselves and thus live their lives in a state of hypnotic ‘waking sleep,’ but that it is possible to awaken to a higher state of consciousness and serve our purpose as human beings.” As a composer, he sometimes collaborated with the Ukraine-born composer Thomas de Hartmann. On this album from the ECM label, the Lebanese-born Armenian musician Levon Eskenian, (b. 1978) who founded the Gurdjieff Ensemble in 2008, has arranged music by Gurdjieff and de Hartmann along with some tunes by Armenian bards and troubadours, including the title piece Zartir by Baghdasar Dpir (1683-1768). “Zartir” means “Wake up!” and its lyrics seem to echo Gurdjieff’s teaching that humanity is asleep and that people need to be roused from their unenlightened state.

The simplicity of the arrangements and the natural acoustic sounds of the folk instruments employed mean that although the language and instruments may be generally unfamiliar to Western ears, the music should have an immediate appeal. The CD booklet contains texts and background information that provides helpful context; in addition, the engineering is first-rate. For those willing to open their ears to some sounds from outside the mainstream, Zartir is well worth an audition.  

Bax: Symphony No. 2 (CD review)

Also, November Woods. David Lloyd-Jones, Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Naxos 8.554093.

It's always surprised me that the music of English composer Sir Arnold Bax (1883–1953) has never been more recorded. The material is certainly right for the high-fidelity medium. Take his Symphony No. 2 in E minor and C major (1926), for instance. Bax worked on it for two years, scoring it for a very large orchestra, featuring a wide variety of instrumental colors, with big, dramatic contrasts throughout its length. The first of three movements opens on an almost sinister note, builds through a huge, jagged crescendo, settles into a soft, somewhat melancholy mood, and then returns in the finale to the craggy heights of its beginnings, ending where it began in a gentle yet sinister mood. Such rugged individualism was something new for an English composer of the early twentieth century, yet Bax set all of it clearly within a late-Romantic framework.

Audiences apparently loved Bax's Second Symphony for a time, until his style went out of vogue in the mid century. But it isn't so much the symphony here that counts, anyway, as it is his tone poem "November Woods," one of the best things he ever wrote (along with another of his tone poems, "Tintagel"). "November Woods" is even more evocative than the Second Symphony, a kind of miniature adventure in the woods on the proverbial dark and stormy night. 

David Lloyd-Jones

Maestro David Lloyd-Jones brings off both works successfully, especially the symphony, but unfortunately for him he has to compete in the tone poem with Sir Adrian Boult. Boult's "November Woods" on Lyrita is without peer; indeed, it is one of my ten favorite recordings of all time, capturing the spirit of the forest at night with inimitable persuasion. Lloyd-Jones makes the woods dark and menacing. Boult makes them magical, as well.

Besides which Boult's late-Sixties Lyrita sound is superior to the Naxos digital effort. This is not to downgrade the Naxos sound, mind you, which is fine in its own right; but the Lyrita recording has greater transparency, more dynamic range, a wider stereo spread, and, most important, a better presentation of front-to-back imaging, or depth. One has to pay through the nose for the Lyrita reissue, however, about five times the price of the Naxos disc. And therein may lie difference.

You actually can't go wrong with this Naxos release; the performances are first-rate, the sound is OK, and the price is right. It's just my bias showing for the older Lyrita favorite in the tone poem. 

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Bax: Symphony No. 5 (CD review)

Also, "The Tale the Pine-Trees Knew." David Lloyd-Jones, Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Naxos 8.554509.

I used to have a favorite recording of the Bax Fifth Symphony in the old LP days, one by Raymond Leppard on Lyrita as I recall, long since gone, a casualty of the CD era. It's been some time since I last heard the work, and, frankly, I didn't remember much of it after thirty-odd years. But I knew after listening to David Lloyd-Jones's rendition on this modestly priced Naxos issue that I still like it, especially in its newer and more dramatic aural setting.

Arnold Bax (1883-1953) was a contemporary of Vaughan Williams, and the public considered both men natural successors to Edward Elgar as deans of twentieth-century British music. Bax took an early liking to the poetry of W.B. Yeats and Celtic mythology, and much of Bax's music reflects the imagery and atmosphere of Celtic legend. However, his Fifth Symphony, often considered the best (and, surely, the most popular) of the seven symphonies he completed, is a little different in that he said his biggest influence was the Nordic moods of Sibelius. Bax premiered the Fifth in 1934 under the baton of one of Sibelius's champions, Sir Thomas Beecham, but David Lloyd-Jones does an admirably fine job bringing out the music's color as well.

David Lloyd-Jones

Sibelius or no, I continue to hear more of the craggy ruggedness and brooding echoes of Tintagel and the coast of Cornwall in the piece than any specific Norse themes. Bax wrote the symphony in three movements rather than four, and none of the movements is particularly poetic or lyrical. The work starts on a typically mysterious note--a soft, pulsing beat that builds into shattering waves and then walls of sound. The whole work has a power and scope that remind one of the aptly chosen cover picture of the Scottish highlands. Or the Cornish coast. Fanfares and glimmering violins continue the second movement, which turns more solemn as it goes along. The finale moves along with a strong forward impulse and ends in a grand burst of orchestral color. It's all very dramatic and intense under Lloyd-Jones's direction and a workout for one's audio system.

Coupled with the Fifth is one of Bax's many tone poems, a sixteen-minute composition with the inconvenient title, "The Tale the Pine-Trees Knew." Inconvenient because it tends to make the piece seem like a children's story, which it most pointedly is not. It is, in fact, a miniature of the Fifth Symphony, with the same kind of craggy rhythms, rugged harmonies, and moody reflections.

Done up as sympathetically as it is by Maestro Lloyd-Jones, whose Scottish forces must have this music in their blood, the entire album is hard to resist. Then there's Naxos's sound, which is equally big and dramatic, with plenty of weight, and you get more than a measure of your money's worth. If you like the music of Bax, this disc is well worth considering.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click on the forward arrow:

Bax: Symphony No. 6 (CD review)

Also, Into the Twilight; Summer Music. David Lloyd-Jones, Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Naxos 8.557144.

Where would we be without Chandos and Naxos? Well, we wouldn't have much of Sir Arnold Bax, that's for sure. The British composer (1883-1953) was at one time well represented in the catalogue by EMI and Lyrita, but today it's almost entirely Chandos and Naxos. While the former label may offer slightly better sound, it's the Naxos label that provides the bargains.

Naxos set out some years ago to record all seven of Bax's symphonies and as many of his short works as possible, most or all of them with conductor David Lloyd-Jones. So far as I can tell, Lloyd-Jones has done all of the symphonies now, and I believe he's done most of the tone poems as well.

Lloyd-Jones performs the Symphony No. 6 (1935) with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, and they do it at least as well as what we heard in previous Naxos editions, meaning with plenty of Celtic atmosphere. That is what Bax is all about, of course--Celtic atmosphere. With No. 6 we get it in spades, from the mercurial opening movement with its tempestuous mood swings to the lilting slow movement and the stormy finale, which finally fades gently, tranquilly away. Bax himself claimed that the Sixth was his favorite of all the symphonies, and critics have generally agreed. What's more, while Bax shows us that he's clearly a Romantic at heart, there is yet a good deal of the modern twentieth century in there as well. There's even some Scottish folk music, a bit of jazz, and a pair of marches thrown around for good measure, so the music offers a little something for everyone. Lloyd-Jones and his Royal Scottish players capture not only the atmosphere but its many contrasts as well, the conductor always sensitive to the nuances of the music.

Personally, however, being the Philistine that I am, I prefer Bax's briefer tone poems to his longer symphonies because I think he conveys a more concentrated feeling for his subject matter in the shorter pieces. Frankly, I long ago began to tire of Bax's symphonies, as they began sounding too much alike for my taste, even though the composer seemed to shake things up well enough with No. 6 to keep my attention. Understand, I don't really dislike Bax's symphonies; it's just that I find his tone poems, such as the two contained on this disc, get more quickly to the heart of matters and, therefore, keep me more interested and intrigued. I suppose it's all a question of personal taste, and Bax may be an acquired one. Besides, to me the symphonies tend to sound like a series of tone poems strung together, anyway, not always with as much cohesion as I'd prefer. For example, although Bax breaks the Sixth Symphony into three official movements, he further divides the final movement into what are actually four distinct segments.

Whatever, the accompanying works, "Into the Twilight" and "Summer Music," are both delightfully descriptive and evocative, and Lloyd-Jones does them as well as anybody. The conductor and orchestra have an obvious affinity for Bax's music, and it's always a pleasure hearing them.

Naxos released the present disc in 2003, and their sound seems to me even better than in their previous Bax recordings. As before, it's big, bold, warm sound, the bass never actually reaching the lowest octaves but probably not needing to. There is a rich lower midrange that maybe obscures a little of what could have been greater depth and transparency, but the result makes for easy, comfortable, concert hall-style listening.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Bax: Symphony No. 7 (CD review)

Also, Tintagel. David Lloyd-Jones, Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Naxos 8.557145.

English composer Sir Arnold Bax (1883-1953) wrote tone poems in the first half of the twentieth century. Whether he called them “symphonies” or not, they were either genuine tone poems or collections of tone poems strung together into longer symphonic works. The two compositions represented on this disc illustrate the point: his final symphony, the Seventh Symphony (1939), and his most-famous short piece, Tintagel (1919).

Tintagel, of course, is Bax’s depiction of the rocky precipice on the west coast of Cornwall that mythologists and researchers think may have been the birthplace of the legendary King Arthur. Whether it really was Arthur’s birthplace or whether there really was a King Arthur is beside the point; Tintagel, the place, really exists. Like the actual location, the short, symphonic tone picture is all about rugged seascapes, craggy cliffs, and splashes of ocean spray. It’s a wonderfully evocative bit of music, which Maestro Lloyd-Jones exploits nicely. However, Tingagel tends to upstage the disc’s main attraction, the Symphony No. 7, which sounds a mite lightweight by comparison in its gentle Romanticism, as well as sounding somewhat imitative of Bax’s earlier work.

Anyhow, as I say, David Lloyd-Jones, who finished up his complete Bax cycle for Naxos, again served the music well with this recording, although I thought his interpretation this time out was a tad on the soft, leisurely side. Tintagel, especially, has more bite, more luster, and a more rough-and-tumble vigor in the hands of conductors Bryden Thomson (Chandos) and Sir Adrian Boult (Lyrita). What’s more, those recordings sound better, have greater range, and more transparency than the slightly bland-sounding Naxos disc.

Needless to say, however, the Naxos disc has the advantage of price, which may be its strongest attraction. After all, if you’ve never heard Tintagel before, you might not want to spend the money on a full-price disc just to hear it. In any case, you can’t go far wrong with this Naxos disc, and if you do like it, you can check out the even better Thomson and Boult recordings (the Boult-Lyrita disc being among my favorite recordings of anything).

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Bax: Symphonic Poems (CD review)

Tintagel; The Garden of Fand; The Happy Forest; The Tale the Pine-Trees Knew; November Woods. David Lloyd-Jones, Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Naxos 8.557599.

Conductor David Lloyd-Jones and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra recorded English composer Arnold Bax's complete symphony cycle for Naxos between 1995 and 2003, with each symphony accompanied by one of the composer's tone poems per disc. A little later, the enterprising Naxos folks did a welcome double dipping by releasing five of the tone poems on their own CD, reviewed here.

Lloyd-Jones does well by these symphonic sketches, although none of them match my favorites, recorded by Sir Adrian Boult for the Lyrita label back in 1968. Still, Lloyd-Jones has the measure of the music. The disc begins with Tintagel, Bax's depiction of the rocky precipice on the Cornish coast reputed to be the birthplace of the legendary King Arthur. Like the actual location, the short, symphonic tone picture is all about rugged seascapes, craggy cliffs, and splashes of ocean spray. David Lloyd-Jones serves the music well, although his interpretation is a tad on the light, leisurely side compared to the more rough-and-tumble vigor displayed in the work of conductors Bryden Thomson (Chandos) and the aforementioned Boult.

Bax based The Garden of Fand on Irish legend, the music describing a picture of a calm sea over which sails a small ship, eventually tossed onto Fand's island, where the gods play with the lives of mortals. I thought it came off the best of all Lloyd-Jones's readings, where he expresses the strong but quiet emotions of the tale vividly and strikingly. Following this, we find The Happy Forest, a short piece adhering to Bax's pastoral pattern. Bax described it as a nature poem, and, in fact, basing it loosely on a poem; but it is mainly impressionistic, not programmatic, and Lloyd-Jones sensibly maintains a tight rein on any possible histrionics.

The next-to-last poem is a sixteen-minute composition with the inconvenient title The Tale the Pine-Trees Knew. I say "inconvenient" because it tends to make the piece seem like a children's story, which it most pointedly is not. Bax fills it with strong rhythms, rugged harmonies, and moody reflections, all done up sympathetically by Lloyd-Jones, whose Scottish forces must have this music in their blood. And the final work is November Woods, one of the best things Bax ever wrote (along with Tintagel). November Woods is evocative of a Buckinghamshire wood on a proverbial dark and stormy night. Although again Boult portrays the scene more picturesquely, Lloyd-Jones is almost equally atmospheric.

Oddly, I thought the Naxos sound was best in the earlier recordings, the 1995-96 productions of November Woods and The Tale the Pine-Trees Knew. By the time Lloyd-Jones recorded Tintagel in 2002, the sound appears to have become softer in the midrange and more billowy in the mid-bass. Nevertheless, given the fact that Boult's collection on Lyrita is sometimes hard to find (it seems to keep appearing and disappearing in the catalogue), and that Naxos price the disc absurdly low, I can't think of a reason in the world why the interested listener shouldn't try it.

JJP

Bax: Tone Poems, Vol. 2 (CD review)

Vernon Handley, BBC Philharmonic. Chandos CHAN 10446.

English composer Arnold Bax (1883-1953) wrote in 1943, "I was until quite recently about as instinctive (an) artist as could be found. I passed unperturbed during the last war, turning out my romantic stuff in an unending stream, and it was only very gradually that I realized that I was marooned upon a lonely rock with scarcely a companion...."

Bax wrote many of his most famous tone poems and symphonies before and just after the First World War, the War being a great turning point in the outlook of many other artists, bringing with it an end to Romanticism as we know it and a beginning of a harder, more-cynical age. But Bax carried on with his "Nature poems for orchestra," as he called them, almost until his death. More is the blessing for us.

I admit to being a fan of the man's work. He was doing in England the kind of thing that Sibelius was doing in Finland, although on a less imposing (and probably less financially rewarding) scale. Bax was describing the English landscape, as the titles of the short works in this second volume of tone poems indicate: "Three Northern Ballads" (1931-34), full of wind and rocks and forests; "Nympholept" (1912), full of capering wood nymphs (despite what the title may suggest to you); "Red Autumn" (1912), less outright descriptive and more impressionistic than the others; "The Happy Forest" (1922), full of pastoral inspiration; and "Into the Twilight" (1908), after a poem of the same name by W.B. Yeats, full of Celtic atmosphere.

Vernon Handley is an old hand at this sort of music and performs it with ease. He and the BBC Philharmonic convey all of the works' character and feeling--the cool winds, stormy coasts, and enchanted woods coming through with honest affection. The Chandos sound could be a little stronger in the deep bass and perhaps a tad smoother in the treble, but there is a depth and breadth to the orchestral field that makes up for it. It's a lovely album.

JJP