| Ralph Vaughan Williams - Complete Symphonies & Orchestral Works
(2000)
|
| Cover Front |
Album |
|
| Artist/Composer |
Ralph Vaughan Williams |
| Conductor |
Adrian Boult |
| Orchestra |
New Philharmonia Orchestra |
| Length |
532:53 |
| Format |
mp3 |
| Genre |
Classical |
| Label |
EMI |
| Cat. Number |
CZS5739242 |
| Index |
4587 |
|
| Track List |
|
65:24 |
| 01 |
A Song for All Seas, All Ships. Behold, the sea itself. |
03:11 |
| 02 |
A Song for All Seas, All Ships. Today a rude brief recitative |
04:59 |
| 03 |
A Song for All Seas, All Ships. Flaunt out, O sea, your separate flags |
02:34 |
| 04 |
A Song for All Seas, All Ships. Token of all brave captains |
04:48 |
| 05 |
A Song for All Seas, All Ships. A pennant universal |
03:44 |
| 06 |
On the Beach, at Night, Alone. |
03:41 |
| 07 |
On the Beach at Night, Alone. A vast similitude interlocks all |
06:45 |
| 08 |
The Waves |
07:29 |
| 09 |
The Explorers O vast Rondure, swimming in Space |
04:27 |
| 10 |
The Explorers. Down from the Gardens |
07:48 |
| 11 |
The Explorers. O we can wait no longer |
05:06 |
| 12 |
The Explorers. O thou transcendant |
03:05 |
| 13 |
The Explorers. Greater than stars or suns |
01:20 |
| 14 |
The Explorers. Sail forth |
02:26 |
| 15 |
The Explorers. O my brave soul! |
04:01 |
|
16:35 |
| 16 |
Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis |
16:35 |
|
43:13 |
| 17 |
I. Lento - Allegro risoluto |
14:27 |
| 18 |
II. Lento |
09:35 |
| 19 |
III. Scherzo (Nocturne) - Allegro vivace |
07:11 |
| 20 |
IV. Andante con moto - Maestoso alla marcia (quasi lento) - Allegro - Maestoso alla marcia (alla 1) - Epilogue (Andante sostenut |
12:00 |
|
33:47 |
| 21 |
I. Molto moderato |
09:45 |
| 22 |
II. Lento moderato |
07:27 |
| 23 |
III. Moderato pesante |
06:19 |
| 24 |
IV. Lento |
10:16 |
|
37:38 |
| 25 |
I. Preludio (moderato) |
11:34 |
| 26 |
II. Scherzo (presto) |
05:15 |
| 27 |
III. Romanza (lento) |
10:55 |
| 28 |
IV. Passacaglia (moderato) |
09:54 |
|
32:34 |
| 29 |
I. Allegro |
08:12 |
| 30 |
II. Andante moderato |
09:58 |
| 31 |
III. Scherzo - Allegro molto |
05:38 |
| 32 |
IV. Finale con epilog fugato - Allegro molto |
08:46 |
|
36:08 |
| 33 |
I. Allegro |
08:17 |
| 34 |
II. Moderato |
09:32 |
| 35 |
III. Scherzo - Allegro vivace |
06:59 |
| 36 |
IV. Epilogue - Moderato |
11:20 |
|
42:08 |
| 37 |
I. Prelude (andante maestoso) |
09:24 |
| 38 |
II. Scherzo (moderato) |
05:33 |
| 39 |
III. Landscape (lento) |
11:44 |
| 40 |
IV Intermezzo (andante sostenuto) |
05:32 |
| 41 |
V. Epilogue (alla marcia) |
09:55 |
|
25:58 |
| 42 |
Overture |
10:12 |
| 43 |
Entr'acte |
02:48 |
| 44 |
March Past the Kitchen Utensils |
03:06 |
| 45 |
Entr'acte |
03:47 |
| 46 |
Ballet and Final Tableau |
06:05 |
|
28:40 |
| 47 |
I. Fantasia (variazioni senza tema) |
11:13 |
| 48 |
II. Scherzo alla marcia |
03:58 |
| 49 |
III. Cavatina |
08:39 |
| 50 |
IV. Toccata |
04:50 |
|
34:52 |
| 51 |
I. Moderato maestoso |
09:17 |
| 52 |
II. Andante sostenuto |
07:50 |
| 53 |
III. Scherzo (allegro pesante) |
05:40 |
| 54 |
IV. Andante tranquillo |
12:05 |
|
13:17 |
| 55 |
Serenade to Music |
13:17 |
|
08:49 |
| 56 |
No. 1. March (17 Come Sunday) |
02:54 |
| 57 |
No. 2. Intermezzo (My Bonny Boy) |
02:52 |
| 58 |
No. 3. Mark (Folk Songs from Somerset) |
03:03 |
|
10:19 |
| 59 |
Norfolk Rhapsody No. 1 |
10:19 |
|
04:37 |
| 60 |
Fantasia on Greensleeves |
04:37 |
|
13:55 |
| 61 |
In the Fen Country |
13:55 |
|
14:42 |
| 62 |
The Lark Ascending |
14:42 |
|
26:00 |
| 63 |
I. Toccata - Allegro moderato |
06:04 |
| 64 |
II. Romanza - Lento |
09:17 |
| 65 |
III. Fuga chromatica (allegro) con finale alla tedesca, 1 |
04:39 |
| 66 |
III. Fuga chromatica (allegro) con finale alla tedesca, 2 |
06:00 |
|
44:17 |
| 67 |
Scene I. Introduction |
05:29 |
| 68 |
Scene I. Sarabande of the Sons of God |
03:45 |
| 69 |
Scene II. Satan's Dance of Triumph |
03:28 |
| 70 |
Scene III. Minuet of the Sons of Job and Their Wives |
04:00 |
| 71 |
Scene IV. Job's Dream |
04:17 |
| 72 |
Scene V. Dream of the Three Messengers |
04:41 |
| 73 |
Scene VI. Dance of Job's Comforters |
04:50 |
| 74 |
Scene VII. Elihu's Dance of Youth and Beauty |
03:47 |
| 75 |
Scene VII. Pavane of the Sons of the Morning |
02:10 |
| 76 |
Scene VIII. Galliard of the Sons of the Morning |
02:21 |
| 77 |
Scene VIII. Altar Dance |
02:47 |
| 78 |
Scene IX. Epilogue |
02:42 |
| Personal |
| Purchase Date |
11/9/2004 |
| Store |
Suffolk County Public Library |
| kbps |
320 |
| Links |
amazon
|
|
| Details |
| Spars |
ADD |
| Rare |
No |
| Sound |
Stereo |
|
| Notes |
1. Symphony No. 1, '(A) Sea Symphony' Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by London Philharmonic Choir with Sheila Armstrong, John Carol Case Conducted by Adrian Boult
The poetry of Walt Whitman was a rallying point for Vaughan Williams and his fellow students at Cambridge in the 1890's; for the composer, Whitman remained a lifelong source of inspiration. His largest Whitman setting is A Sea Symphony, which Vaughan Williams began writing in 1903, when he was 31 years old, and which he completed, only after much revision in 1909. Whitman's decidedly non-ecclesiastical vision of the soul's journey through life as a sea voyage into uncharted regions certainly appealed to Vaughan Williams, a declared agnostic who once exclaimed "Who believes in God nowadays, I should like to know?" according to fellow Trinity scholar Betrand Russell. Drawing inspiration from the cantatas of Parry and the operettas of Sullivan, as well as the English folk songs he had recently begun to collect, Vaughan Williams fashioned a huge score that contains some of the finest choral writing of its era. In the first movement, "A Song for All Seas, All Ships," a stern brass flourish is answered by full chorus, "Behold the sea itself." Thematic motives that will inform the rest of the work are immediately sounded: the words "and on its limitless, heaving breast, the ships" are set to a noble, arching theme that appeared more than once in Vaughan Williams' music, from the early unpublished tone-poem The Solent to the Symphony No. 9 of 1958. A quicker, shanty-like section ensues, making use of the folk song "Tarry Trowsers," in which the baritone soloist sings "a rude, brief recitative of ships sailing the seas." The dramatic entry of the soprano is heralded by the opening brass flourish; her cavatina extends the imagery into the spiritual: "...for the soul of man one flag above all the rest...emblem of man elate above death [.]" The second movement is a nocturne, "On the Beach at Night, Alone," for baritone and chorus, in which, to a dark, rocking accompaniment the soloist muses on "the clef of the universes" and, over a soft march-like tread in the bass (the legacy of Parry), envisions how "A vast similitude interlocks all." The chorus unleashes a forthright and powerful declamation after which the initial mystery of the opening returns, this time with orchestra alone. A sprightly version of the opening fanfare, with pizzicato strings, launches the scherzo "The Waves" for chorus alone. The quick and lightly scored counterpoint in the orchestral accompaniment underscores the interplay of "whistling winds...undulating waves...that whirling current" through which a ship plies its way. The trio is a broad, Parryesque melody to the words "Where the great vessel sailing and tacking displaced the surface." The movement concludes with alternating fanfares for both brass and chorus. "The Explorers" is fully half an hour in length, a finale containing some of Vaughan Williams' most noble music. Here the metaphor of the soul as a ship voyaging through the seas of life is most forthrightly expressed. A quiet introduction for hushed chorus ("O vast Rondure, swimming in space") is followed by a slow march describing the "restless" soul of man from its origins in Adam and Eve, climaxing in a vision of the poet, "the true son of God" who will guide mankind through his songs. The soprano and baritone soloists sing of the Soul "taking ship" to "launch out on trackless seas" in a duet of operatic fervor. A faster section ("Away O Soul!") launches the Soul's journey, with a final note of benediction ("O daring joy, but safe! are they not all the seas of God?") before the symphony sinks from sight in the lowest strings.
2. Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
Conducted by Adrian Boult
The first performance of Vaughan Williams' Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis took place at the Three Choirs Festival in Gloucester Cathedral on September 6, 1910. The program was primarily devoted to Sir Edward Elgar's oratorio The Dream of Gerontius, which may partly account for its relatively cool reception. But its treatment, unusual for its day, of the unusual source material may also have puzzled the audience.
Vaughan Williams encountered Tallis' hymn while editing The English Hymnal in 1906; it had first appeared in Archbishop Parker's Metrical Psalter in 1567, set to the words, "Why fumeth in fight?" The peculiar modal qualities of the tune, with its prominent flatted seventh, not only allowed the composer considerable harmonic freedom from the prevailing strictures of diatonicism and chromaticism, but also made possible the simultaneous sense of the ancient and the modern that is the work's hallmark.
The Tallis Fantasia is scored for two string orchestras, one functioning as a "distant" choir, and a solo string quartet. After five widely spaced chords and a few bars in which the theme is fragmentarily mused upon by pizzicato basses, cellos, and swaying middle strings, arco, Tallis' hymn-tune is stated in its original harmony by violas and celli with tremolando accompaniment by the high strings, and is then repeated in a setting that exploits all of the harmonic and contrapuntal facilities of a large string section.
The string choirs then separate for a short section in which fragments of Tallis' theme in the first string orchestra are answered by distant chordal musings from the second orchestra. This serves not only as a brief development section but also introduces the solo string quartet, whose masterly counterpoint demonstrates Vaughan Williams' affinity for stringed instruments. As the rhapsodic meditation increases in intensity, the more modern aspects of the composition come into focus, with vaguely impressionistic harmonies mingling with the modal, leading to an impressive climax in which the two orchestras are unleashed in their full chordal power. The string quartet leads a final, luminous musing on Tallis' tune, and the Fantasia ends with a short coda in which the solo violin pronounces a brief benediction as the orchestra falls away.
Symphony No. 2 in G major ("A London Symphony")
Geoffrey Toye, with the Queen's Hall Orchestra, led the first performance of Vaughan Wiliams "London" Symphony in London on March 27, 1914. As late as 1951, Vaughan Williams made new editions of symphonies Nos. 1-6. He wrote to Sir John Barbirolli that "The London Symphony is past mending -- though with all its faults I love it still; indeed it is my favourite of my family of six." His favorite had a checkered history. His friend George Butterworth said, "You know, you ought to write a symphony." Vaughan Williams duly wrote and heard performed A London Symphony, then sent the score to Germany in 1914, for publication. It got lost, but from the parts was reconstructed; Vaughan Williams made cuts and adjustments in 1918, again in 1920, before publishing the work with a dedication to Butterworth's memory. But he wasn't finished: Vaughan Williams made trims in 1934 and still more in 1936 for another published edition that remains definitive. The pleas to restore certain passages fell on deaf ears: "It's much too long, much too long, and there was some horrid modern music in the middle -- awful stuff. I cut that out -- couldn't stand it," this to Bernard Herrmann, who'd performed the 1920 version in New York.
In four movements, it is more like four related tone poems in the style of Sibelius' Lemminkäinen Legends. Vaughan Williams tended to downplay their programmatic character, especially in later years, but he did write the following, interleaved with observations by Michael Kennedy and Butterworth in square-brackets:
"There are four movements. The first begins with a slow prelude [just before dawn as Wordsworth described it -- 'all that mighty heart is lying still' -- harp and clarinet intone the Westminster chimes]. This leads to a vigorous allegro -- which may perhaps suggest the noise and hurry of London, with its always underlying calm [two solo cellos, two solo violins and harp begin a reverie in one of London's green spaces, or churches, which merges into the recapitulation of the main themes...].
"The second (slow) movement has been called 'Bloomsbury Square on a November afternoon.' This may serve as a clue to the music, but it is not a necessary 'explanation' of it. [For Butterworth, 'an idyll of grey skies and secluded by-ways.' Kennedy heard 'a lavender-seller's cry, which Vaughan Williams noted in Chelsea...a hansom cab's jingle'].
"The third movement is a nocturne in the form of a scherzo. If the hearer will imagine himself standing on Westminster Embankment at night, surrounded by the distant sounds of the Strand, with its great hotels on the one side and the 'New Cut' on the other, with its crowded streets and flaring lights [Cockney conviviality, to the simulated sounds of a mouth-organ], it may serve as a mood in which to listen....
"The last movement consists of an agitated theme in three-time, alternating with a march movement, at first solemn [not all in London are occasions of pageantry] and later on energetic. At the end of the finale comes a suggestion of the noise and fever of the first movement -- this time much subdued -- then the 'Westminster Chimes' once more. An 'Epilogue' follows in which the slow prelude is developed into a movement of some length [Clearly the rippling figures on flutes, violins, and violas represent the Thames....The coda was suggested by a passage in H.G. Welles' novel, Tono Bungay: 'To run down the Thames so is to run one's hand over the pages in the book of England from end to end....The river passes -- London passes, England passes....' ]."
3. Symphony No. 3, '(A) Pastoral Symphony' Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by New Philharmonia Orchestra with Dame Margaret Price Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Mark Satola
Vaughan Williams' Third Symphony, A Pastoral Symphony, puzzled more than a few hearers at its premiere on January 26, 1922. Here was a symphony in four movements, three of which were meditative and slow and which remained at a soft dynamic level, rarely rising to anything resembling a fortissimo climax until the third movement, a Moderato pesante functioning as a scherzo. The quiet modal themes, developing organically instead of according to classical form, the melismatic writing for section principals throughout, and the evocation through folk-like material of the English occasioned Peter Warlock's famous quip that it was like "a cow looking over a gate." In reality, A Pastoral Symphony can be heard as Vaughan Williams' "War Requiem," one of three works written in the early 1920s that employ an otherworldly atmosphere to express the dark reality of the war just finished. (Its companions are the one-act opera The Shepherds of the Delectable Mountains, after Bunyan, and the Mass in G minor for unaccompanied double chorus.) Vaughan Williams drove an ambulance in France during the Great War, and some of his experiences made their way into the score, notably a bugler heard practicing at sunset.
The first movement, Molto moderato, opens with woodwinds in undulating consecutive triads, over which the solo violin sounds out its first folk-like theme, joined by other soloists in counterpoint that develops like the interweaving tendrils of plants. The overall mood is of great harmonic beauty, at once diatonic and modal, with an undercurrent of sadness. Subtle dissonance reigns as the second movement (Lento moderato) opens, though the gentle treatment impresses the listener more with the music's implied shadow than with the clash of notes. The solo horn sounds its call of A, G, E, and D against a string chord of F minor, which swirls upward into a theme of genuine sadness on middle strings, with solo oboe prominent. The distant bugler haunts the glowing middle section, an accompanied cadenza for trumpet that climaxes in an anguished tutti on the horn's initial call. As the movement subsides, the horn and trumpet themes, now on clarinet and horn respectively, intertwine. The scherzo uses sketches from a scene of Falstaff and the fairies, and is the only untroubled movement of the symphony. A heavy, dance-like tread on low strings is answered by horns and trombones in triple time, leading to a quicker section in which the trumpet is prominent. The themes are plainly folk-influenced and are presented in a straightforward manner, with the trumpet tune of the trio returning grandly at the conclusion, only to give way to a remarkable coda, very quiet and fast, in which new themes rush through in riotous counterpoint before disappearing with a soft and magical chord from the celesta. In the finale, a wordless soprano intones a plaintive, pentatonic melody over soft timpani, followed by a warm and consoling melody, the most fully developed of the symphony. The orchestration here is rich and glowing, though shadows darken a quicker section in which fragments of the soprano's theme protest against troubled harmonies, climaxing in a full-throated cry from the high strings, alone and unison, of the singer's tune. The consoling theme returns and the movement dies away to a high shimmering note on the upper strings, against which the soprano intones her distant vocalise.
4. Symphony No. 5 in D Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Chris Morrison
During the late 1930s and early 1940s, Vaughan Williams was occupied with a wide variety of musical projects. His earliest film scores date from this time, such as those for The 49th Parallel (1940) and Coastal Command (1942). He also contributed to the war effort with works like the Five Wartime Hymns (1942) and the pageant England's Pleasant Land (1938); the latter work incorporates early sketches for the Symphony No. 5. There was also the ongoing labor on the opera/morality play The Pilgrim's Progress. Some incidental commissions also came his way, like the Serenade to Music written for Sir Henry Wood's golden jubilee as a conductor (1938).
And there was the Symphony No. 5, largely written over the years 1938 to 1943. Vaughan Williams himself conducted the London Philharmonic in the work's first performance at a Royal Albert Hall Promenade concert on June 24, 1943. A decade separates this symphony and its predecessor, and a work more unlike the violent and tumultuous Symphony No. 4 would be hard to imagine. Vaughan Williams scholar Michael Kennedy has called the Fifth the "symphony of the celestial city," which perhaps gives some indication of the work's radiance and lyricism.
The Symphony No. 5 was dedicated to Jean Sibelius, and the latter's own Symphony No. 5 is evoked in the serene and mysterious opening Preludio. French horns sound out in D major over a low C in the strings, an ambiguity that is partly resolved when a radiant E major emerges in the strings. There are some darker moments during the more animated development section, but the opening horn calls return, and the main melody is heroically sounded out with brass and tympani. The epilogue is more ambivalent, wandering sadly toward a haunting and uncertain ending. The second movement, Scherzo, is a sardonic little dance that emerges out of swirling strings. Blasts from the brass section occasionally interrupt the tune. As turbulent as the music gets, the scoring is light and nimble throughout. The music relaxes toward the end of the movement, perhaps in anticipation of what is to follow.
The Symphony No. 5 derives some of its thematic content from the opera The Pilgrim's Progress, but only in the third movement "Romanza" is the connection between opera and symphony dramatically apparent. In the manuscript score, Vaughan Williams included a brief quotation from Bunyan's work: "Upon this place stood a cross, and a little below a sepulchre. Then he said: 'He hath given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death.'" The movement begins mysteriously, as a stately chorale-like theme is presented. Woodwinds, particularly English horn and oboe, introduce a new theme (taken from Act One, Scene Two of the opera). The music becomes temporarily blustery, but the chorale theme returns and builds to a noble climax. A solo violin leads into the hushed and poignant coda. Like the Brahms Symphony No. 4, the Vaughan Williams Fifth ends with a Passacaglia; the stately theme is heard in the low strings at first, and is developed by the rest of the orchestra. Variations on the passacaglia theme range from the playful to the jubilant to the restive. A big, brass-laden climax leads to a return of the symphony's opening French horn call, this time in a more assertive guise. The strings reflect on motifs from the first movement, with the passacaglia theme lurking nearby, and fade into a very peaceful and beautiful ending to what some have called Vaughan Williams' greatest symphony.
5. Symphony No. 4 in F minor Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by New Philharmonia Orchestra Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Chris Morrison
"I don't know whether I like it, but it's what I meant." Vaughan Williams referred in these famous words to his Symphony No. 4, which was sketched out over the years 1931 and 1932, completed in 1934, and first performed in London on April 10, 1935, by the BBC Symphony Orchestra under Sir Adrian Boult. The dissonance and power of the Symphony No. 4 were not new elements in Vaughan Williams' music; some of the same can be heard, for instance, in the ballet Job (1930). But the unrelenting vision of the Fourth was new and surprising.
What does the Fourth mean? Interestingly and not very helpfully, it was the first of Vaughan Williams' symphonies not to have a descriptive title attached to it. Many thought that the symphony was a commentary on world events, in particular the rise of totalitarianism and the eventual outbreak of World War II. Sir Adrian Boult thought so: "He foresaw the whole thing." As usual, Vaughan Williams rejected such specificity, although he did admit in a letter to a friend that the "beauty" of the symphony reflected "unbeautiful times -- because we know that beauty can come from unbeautiful things (e.g. King Lear, Rembrandt's School of Anatomy, Wagner's Niebelungs, etc.)" As Vaughan Williams was completing the Fourth, he was also starting on the oratorio Dona Nobis Pacem, which does make direct reference to war. But the composer's widow Ursula saw the symphony as autobiographical, a reflection of her husband's character: "The towering furies of which he was capable, his fire, pride, and strength are all revealed and so are his imagination and lyricism."
The symphony begins with an imperious theme that frequently recurs later in the work. The tone is one of anger and aggression. Even the more restrained second theme has a pulsating energy lurking beneath it, and the movement's occasional moments of humor are acid-tinged. After its driving energy and frequent brass outbursts, the quiet coda of the movement comes as a surprise. But the feeling is more of enervation than calm. Next is the slow movement, marked Andante moderato, which opens with a wandering melody related to material from the first movement over a strong pizzicato accompaniment. Much is made of the contrast between the remorseless tread of the accompaniment versus the rather forlorn quality of the melodic material. The movement exudes a sense of weariness. A lonely flute solo acts as a coda. The Scherzo, marked Allegro molto, is dance-like, but rhythmically unpredictable and mercurial. After a fugal interlude, the dance opening returns. A strange and mysterious passage in which a quiet recollection of the first movement's main theme sounds over a pounding drum rhythm, leads without break into the vigorous Finale, which one might see as the resolution of the conflict of the first three movements. The final movement strides purposely forward, with frequent brass eruptions. The mood is one of excitement, but of agitation, as well. A peaceful theme emerges in the strings and is developed for a time. Then the initial music breaks out again, leading into a fugal development that whips up a lot of energy and leads to a brass-drenched peroration derived from the symphony's opening pages.
6. Symphony No. 6 in E minor Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by New Philharmonia Orchestra Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Chris Morrison
With the lyrical Symphony No. 5 (1938-43), many figured that Vaughan Williams -- who was, after all, in his early seventies by this time -- was in essence saying farewell to the symphonic idiom. So the surprise and interest was that much greater when the Symphony No. 6 was announced in 1947. Beginning with some sketches from the score for the film The Flemish Farm (1943), Vaughan Williams worked on the Symphony No. 6 over the years 1944-47. It was given its first performance at the Royal Albert Hall on April 21, 1948, by the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Adrian Boult. The work was received with tremendous acclaim, and in its first year of existence it was performed nearly 100 times.
The unusual tone of the work, particularly the utter desolation of the final movement, has led many commentators to seek out some kind of extra-musical program. Vaughan Williams, as usual, strongly rejected any such interpretations. The first movement, simply marked Allegro, opens tempestuously. After a brief respite, a swaggering, syncopated march-like section breaks out. Its jazzy gait leads into a stately melody, which is presented first by the strings and then, boldly, by the brass, with heavy percussive accents. After further episodes, the stately tune ultimately returns in a more expressive guise, with flowing strings and strumming harp, gradually building into a final return of the stormy opening music. A single held note from the cellos and basses directly leads into the Moderato second movement. It is eerie and menacing, a chilly landscape that builds to a big, monolithic climax, as a martial three-note figure is hammered out over 90 times by trumpet, brass, and percussion, dominating everything around it. As the crescendo spends itself, a lonely English horn solo over wisps of strings leads into the third movement, a Scherzo marked Allegro vivace. This third movement has some of the sardonic quality of Shostakovich as it generates a considerable amount of undirected energy. A surprising and rather sleazy saxophone solo takes over, with the snare drum tapping away behind it. The saxophone melody is transformed into a noisy, stentorian climax that dies away to some woodwind chatter.
That leads into the ghostly Epilogue: Moderato, which drifts about purposelessly for some ten minutes at a consistently quiet dynamic. Small fragments of melody try to coalesce, but consistently fail. This movement, and to some extent the second, evokes the chilly, featureless landscapes of Vaughan Williams' score for the film Scott of the Antarctic (1948), and the attendant Sinfonia antartica (Symphony No. 7, 1949-52). The music continues to drift among muted strings and brass, the former bringing the work to an uneasy end as they rock back and forth, almost inaudibly, between E flat major and E minor chords. This movement's evanescent texture and emotional blankness, not to mention its sheer quietness, are very disturbing, and led some commentators to think that Vaughan Williams was imagining some kind of postwar or post-atomic devastation. The composer rejected such literalism; the only clue he provided was a reference to Prospero's famous speech from The Tempest: "We are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep." Perhaps coincidentally, in 1951 Vaughan Williams set these very words to music for chorus as one of his Three Shakespearean Songs.
7. Symphony No. 7, 'Sinfonia antartica' Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by London Philharmonic Choir with Norma Burrowes Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Mark Satola
Of Vaughan Williams' 11 film scores, the best known is his music for Ealing Studios' 1948 production Scott of the Antarctic, the story of the failed South Pole expedition of Robert Falcon Scott. His imagination fired by the subject, Vaughan Williams raced well ahead of studio production, composing most of the music without any visual references to the movie. The resulting music was thereby of unusual independent strength and lent itself particularly well to programmatic symphonic treatment. Vaughan Williams undertook that process between 1949 and 1952, and Sir John Barbirolli conducted the premiere of the new symphony (Vaughan Williams' Seventh) in Manchester on January 21, 1953. In five movements, the Sinfonia Antartica is more of a large concert suite than a classically developed symphony. In the score, each movement is given a superscription which the composer preferred be read silently, but which are sometimes spoken in performance (words of Shelley, Coleridge, and Donne are quoted, as well as the psalms and Scott's journals). In addition, atmospheric use is made throughout of a wordless soprano soloist and women's chorus, and the orchestra is augmented by vibraphone, organ, and wind machine, marking a new interest in unusual orchestral sonorities by the 80-year-old composer.
The opening tune, grim and striving, calls up the theme of man's stubble against implacable nature. After its dark harmonies, with their undercurrent of inevitable tragedy, we are introduced to the Antarctic continent itself by a shimmering mosaic of tone-painting, in which vibraphone, women's eerie, keening voices and wind machine make explicit the hostile environment. Into this cold landscape intrudes a heraldic trumpet call, the challenge of man to the unknown region, bringing the movement to a fine, optimistic climax, propelled by crisp rolls from the side-drum. The voyage to Antarctica is portrayed in the Scherzo, sea spray and cold winds delineated in Debussy-like pointillism. Encounters with whales (a deep groaning theme in the basses) and penguins (a comic, loping episode for trumpet) are set forth before the movement ends suddenly and enigmatically, without a return of the scherzo. The most impressive sound-painting occurs in the third movement, "Landscape," originally accompanying the film's sequence on the awesome Beardmore glacier. A bare, chromatic theme, in canon in the trombones and tuba, is accompanied by icy and glittering fragments from percussion. The weight of this inexorable tune carries the movement forward to an astonishing climax in which the utter inhumanity of the southernmost land is given voice with an all-stops outburst from the organ, after which the music seems to collapse exhausted. A moment of warmth follows in the brief Intermezzo, in the composer's late lyrical style, the main theme given by solo oboe above a piquant mix of major and minor harmonies. Music originally for the apparent suicide of Captain Oates (who left the tent during a fierce blizzard) sounds an ominous note that is more fully developed in the fifth movement. "Epilogue" opens with a minor-key transformation of the first movement's trumpet call. The striving motto theme is now a resolute march, but the music of Antarctica slices into its determined optimism, with chorus and wind machine enveloping the music in a cold storm of defeat. The motto returns elegiacally, and then the wind, snow and wordless voices have the last word.
8. (The) Wasps Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Chris Morrison
As had his teachers Sir Hubert Parry and Sir Charles Villiers Stanford before him, in 1909 Vaughan Williams was asked by the Greek Play Committee at Cambridge to write incidental music for their annual performance, which that year featured Aristophanes' satirical play The Wasps. Originally constituting an overture and 17 other items scored for tenor and baritone soloists, male chorus and orchestra, the music was heard for the first time at the performance of the play on November 26, 1909. The music was a huge hit, and a couple of years later Vaughan Williams extracted what he called an Aristophanic Suite from his incidental music; the Suite was first performed on July 23, 1912, with Vaughan Williams himself conducting the New Symphony Orchestra.
While the play itself is strongly satirical, Vaughan Williams' music is consistently good-natured. The music is also among his first to reflect the sound and spirit of English folk song, even though no actual folk songs are heard. Neither are heard any ancient Greek scales or quotations from Greek music; authenticity was not the composer's aim.
The overture to The Wasps was one of Vaughan Williams' first works to enter the fringes of the standard repertory, and has remained a concert and recording staple. We hear the buzzing of the wasps at the beginning of the overture, followed by a sequence of jolly melodies. More restrained and lyrical music temporarily takes over. Then suddenly the wasps return and the tempo picks up again. After a brief dramatic interlude, the tunes of the opening return, closing the overture in lively style. It might be noted that one of Vaughan Williams' first recordings as a conductor was of this overture, made with the Aeolian Orchestra in 1925.
The Aristophanic Suite also includes "The March Past of the Kitchen Utensils," a fine comic march, and a couple of Entr'actes. The Suite concludes with an exotic Ballet which, after a return of the buzzing wasps, leads into the rambunctious Final Tableau and a whirlwind coda.
9. Symphony No. 8 in D minor Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Chris Morrison
The shortest and probably the most lighthearted of his nine symphonies, Vaughan Williams' Symphony No. 8 was first performed on May 2, 1956, at the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, by the Hallé Orchestra conducted by Sir John Barbirolli, to whom the work is dedicated. Vaughan Williams was 83 years old at this point, and the variety and quality of his musical output showed no signs of flagging. Indeed, the composer was bringing new elements, new textures, and emotions into his work. A seemingly uncomplicated work, the Symphony No. 8 exhibits a slightly dark undercurrent, and an enigmatic quality that was made even more manifest in the Symphony No. 9 of the composer's final year, 1958.
The first movement of the Eighth is a Fantasia, subtitled "Variazioni senza thema" (Variations without a Theme). Vaughan Williams perhaps more accurately, described the movement as "Seven variations in search of a theme." It opens with one of the main elements of the movement, a querulous four-note phrase on which the flute elaborates, accompanied by glistening percussion. The music is restless, by turns stormy and lyrical. A jaunty, sardonic episode leads into the coda, in which flute, bassoon, and trumpet dance around the "theme," with harp and vibraphone providing a shimmering backdrop.
The woodwinds and brass are highlighted in the second movement, marked Scherzo alla marcia. It is a curious and slightly creepy march, with a more reflective, waltz-like central section, calling Stravinsky to mind in the combinations of textures and the not-quite-serious attitude. The third movement, Cavatina, is for strings only, unfolding itself in a rich polyphonic fabric. It sounds superficially like the more familiar Vaughan Williams works for string orchestra (such as the Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis or The Lark Ascending), but here there is a slight pall of anxiety and restlessness over even the most mellifluous passages.
Much the same might be said of the final movement, Toccata, in which the orchestra is joined by five percussionists playing, as Vaughan Williams put it, "all the 'phones and 'spiels known to the composer." One can hear preliminary evidence of this interest in percussion instruments in the Christmas cantata Hodie (1948), and it is said that Vaughan Williams was inspired by a performance of Puccini's Turandot to include percussion in the finale of the Symphony No. 8. The percussion by no means dominates the texture, however, but supports the diverse goings-on in the rest of the orchestra. The movement is certainly extroverted, but once again there is a darker presence in the music. Perhaps the composer had it right when he called the Toccata "a rather sinister exordium." A grand and noisy climax brings the work to a close.
10. Symphony No. 9 in E minor Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
Conducted by Adrian Boult
Composition Description by Chris Morrison
Even in his mid-eighties, Vaughan Williams led an unusually active life. He traveled to Majorca, Austria, Italy, and, when at home in England, he had a busy round of concerts, festival appearances, and composing. His last symphony, the Ninth, was begun during his stay in Majorca, and completed back in England in 1957. It was given its premiere at London's Royal Albert Hall, with Sir Malcolm Sargent conducting the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra on April 2, 1958. Coincidentally, Vaughan Williams' last public appearance was at another Royal Albert Hall performance of the Ninth four months later. And on August 26, 1958, three weeks after that appearance, Sir Adrian Boult was to have recorded the Ninth with the BBC Symphony. Those plans were abandoned as news was received of Vaughan Williams' death that morning at age 86.
The Symphony No. 9 has at best a mixed reputation. Some see in it evidence of Vaughan Williams' failing powers late in his career, of a reliance on the same old tricks, so to speak. Certainly the work is an enigmatic one. There are many abrupt changes of mood and texture, and those textures are enlivened by the presence of a trio of saxophones and, for the first time in a Vaughan Williams symphony, a flügelhorn. Two significant influences on the tone of the Ninth should be noted. One is Vaughan Williams' own Symphony No. 6 of about a decade earlier. The other important influence is Thomas Hardy, specifically the novel Tess of the D'Urbervilles. The opening movement of the Ninth was, in fact, originally called "Wessex Prelude," a reference to a location in many of Hardy's novels.
The first movement, marked Moderato maestoso, opens mysteriously but turbulently. A trio of saxophones later blares away in a reminiscence of the Symphony No. 6. Tension increases, and the climax of the movement is followed by a more songful variant of the turbulent opening, with solo violin and strumming harp. A flügelhorn (once described by Vaughan Williams as "this beautiful and neglected instrument") sings briefly, and a strange, hushed coda features the return of the saxophones.
The flügelhorn becomes more prominent in the second movement, Andante sostenuto. Its song is threatened by a slightly sardonic martial figure that keeps attempting to break through. A more poignant section, thought by some to be a reference to Tess, is brought to a halt by the tolling of a bell and the return of the martial music. This beautifully scored and mercurial movement ends poignantly, but the spell is abruptly broken by the onset of the third-movement Scherzo. A jaunty but dark little tune, first presented and later elaborated on by the three saxophones, is eventually elaborated and polyphonically developed by the full orchestra. After several magical little interludes, the three saxophones return at the close.
This leads into the remarkable final movement, Andante tranquillo, with its variety of themes, moods, and passing references to the first three movements. Delicately scored, the movement begins polyphonically in the strings, and develops in a rhapsodic fashion with many sparse, chamber-like textures. The counterpoint in the strings becomes stormy and builds to a grandiose peroration, and after three loud and quickly fading E major chords, harp glissandos and a hint of saxophone are heard as the strings fade to silence.
11. Serenade to Music Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams with Norma Burrowes, Sheila Armstrong, Susan Longfield, Marie Hayward, Alfreda Hodgson, Gloria Jennings, Shirley Minty, Meriel Dickinson, Ian Partridge, Bernard Dickerson, Wynford Evans, Kenneth Bowen, Richard Angas, John Carol Case, John Noble, Christopher Keyte Conducted by Adrian Boult
One of the finest of all musical settings of Shakespeare, the Serenade to Music was written for and dedicated to Henry Wood on the occasion of his golden jubilee as a conductor, "in grateful recognition of his services to music." Wood, who for decades had been associated with the enormously popular Promenade Concerts in London, had participated in many premieres of Vaughan Williams' compositions and was much admired by the composer. For his tribute, Vaughan Williams had the splendid idea of creating a work that would incorporate the talents of 16 well-known British singers who had had long associations with Wood, for each of whom Vaughan Williams would create a characteristic phrase to sing. These 16 singers took part in the premiere of the Serenade at Wood's Golden Jubilee concert at the Royal Albert Hall, London, on October 5, 1938, with Wood himself conducting a large orchestra of musicians drawn from the London Symphony, London Philharmonic, BBC Symphony, and Queen's Hall orchestras. It was an emotional performance that, it is said, reduced Sergey Rachmaninov, who was in attendance, to tears. Thankfully these same performers recorded the work a few days later, so listeners today can share in the moving quality of the event.
Vaughan Williams chose for his text Lorenzo's speech on music in Portia's garden from Act Five, Scene One of The Merchant of Venice. The opening gesture of the Serenade is unusually beautiful, and a solo violin helps establish the languorous mood of a Mediterranean garden. The voices enter, and one of the sopranos sings a rapturous ascending phrase at the first mention of "sweet harmony." Men's voices take over to describe the "floor of heaven...thick inlaid with patines of bright gold," and a brief note of anxiety enters. Fanfares then sound the wakening of Diana, followed by a more melancholy passage contemplating "the man that hath no music in himself." Diana's fanfares briefly return and lead back to the peaceful opening melody, which also concludes the work in hushed fashion. The singers collectively intone the final words, "sweet harmony," and the piece ends in utter tranquillity.
12. In the Fen Country Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by New Philharmonia Orchestra Conducted by Adrian Boult
This is a typical production of Ralph Vaughan Williams' early years as a composer, just after he had begun collection folk music in Norfolk. This gentle tone-poem was written in 1904, revised in 1905, again revised in 1907. Vaughan Williams transcribed it into a piano piece called "Dans les landes d'Angleterre" and sent it to his teacher Maurice Ravel.
Sir Thomas Beecham performed the orchestral version in 1909. Vaughan Williams revised it again in 1935 (by this time it had acquired a masterly orchestration), but the work was never published in the composer's lifetime.
The work is a nostalgic portrait of the fenland around Cambridge, where Vaughan Williams had attended university in the 1890s. Although he does not quote any actual folk songs, the modal character of the music has a particularly "authentically English" sound.
13. Norfolk Rhapsody No. 1 Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by New Philharmonia Orchestra Conducted by Adrian Boult
Vaughan Williams composed this work in 1905 and 1906 but revised it considerably in 1914. Sir Henry Wood introduced the original version in Queen's Hall, London, on August 23, 1906. Vaughan Williams was already past 30 when he found -- in English folk music first, then in early hymnody -- the keys to a personal style that served him nobly over several periods for the next half century. He was still composing when, just short of his 87th birthday, death reprieved him from the attrition of aging. No major composer of any nationality started later; few matched his perseverance or durability; even fewer felt the need -- not even the beleaguered Bruckner -- to revise as much or as often. As late as 1951, his 80th year, Vaughan Williams made new editions of Symphonies One through Six (No. 7, the Antarctic, was in progress, and the Eighth and Ninth were as yet unborn).
Four short works for orchestra preceded the first Norfolk Rhapsody, but the composer published only one of these -- In the Fen Country of 1904 (albeit in a 1935 revision). Actually, there were three Norfolk Rhapsodies, but Vaughan Williams withdrew Nos. 2 and 3 after conducting them at Cardiff in 1907. The lone survivor is considered the composer's first "official" folk song work, for it followed a January 1905 collecting expedition "in the King's Lynn neighbourhood," according to Hugh Ross' 1950 study of the composer for Oxford University Press.
Three of his discoveries at fishing villages in fog-shrouded Norfolk, north of London, are quoted in this E minor rhapsody, which Hugh Ottaway characterizes in the New Grove Twentieth-Century English Masters as having "a distinctive tone poetry, atmospheric and pure in expression, that points clearly to the next period [1909-1914]."
Ross further described the work as follows: "the adagio opening is as tenuous as a misty dawn, and there is a suggestion of the chilly vapours fluttered by a breeze from the [North] Sea. The viola sings to us 'The Captain's Apprentice' -- one of the noblest and possibly the most directly tragic of English folk-songs....'A bold young sailor courted me' rather shyly intrudes, and then 'On board on a '98' [identified by the composer's widow Ursula as "a type of warship, designated by the number of guns she carried"]....The ending section never rises above piano, and closes in the sea mist of the beginning...a deeply considered work...a moving piece of music which inspires and retains affection as well as admiration." The quiet ending of the revised version was the first of a series of poetic sonic "dissolves" that would become a trademark of the composer's music.
14. The lark ascending Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams Performed by New Philharmonia Orchestra with Hugh Bean Conducted by Adrian Boult
The Lark Ascending is a relatively simple piece -- its musical discourse is plainly and easily perceived; yet at its heart is an emotional profundity that links it with other works by Vaughan Williams from the same period, in which a calm, almost detached pastoral approach is used to convey great feeling. Vaughan Williams completed The Lark Ascending in 1914 for violinist Marie Hall, with whom he consulted on the solo part. After a thorough revision in 1920, she first played it in a violin-piano arrangement in Shirehampton Public Hall in December 1920. The first performance of the orchestral version was in London, at a Queen's Hall concert in June, 1921, during the second Congress of British Music Society.
Verses from George Meredith's poem "The Lark Ascending" precede this evocative tone painting, describing the unique circling ascent of the lark, accompanied by its long-breathed, rhapsodic song. The writing for the violin mimics the "silver chain of sound...In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake" described by Meredith, though of course it also carries the main melodic argument. A brief cadence of soft chords from winds and strings discreetly usher in the first flight of the soloist, who rhapsodizes without accompaniment on a folk-like theme of considerable plasticity. The orchestra then quietly enters, and the first theme is developed organically until the section closes with a reprise of the solo cadenza.
A more straightforward folk theme on woodwinds begins the middle section, which has been likened to the pastoral countryside over which the lark soars; the violin's free descant over the orchestra certainly underscores that impression. A magical moment ensues when solo woodwinds evoke a panoply of birdsong under the busy rustling of the violin; the effect is like a choir of birds led by the virtuoso lark. Vaughan Williams would achieve a similar effect in Jane Scroop: Her Lament for Philip Sparrow from his 1935 choral suite Five Tudor Portraits. A note of sadness and nostalgia informs the reprise of the first section, and the piece ends with one more cadenza from the violin, whose song circles ever higher into the upper reaches of the instrument until it more disappears than ends; as quoted from Meredith, "Till lost on his aerial rings / In light, and then the fancy sings."
15. English Folk Song Suite Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
Conducted by Adrian Boult
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) composed his English Folk Song Suite for military band at the invitation of the band of the Royal Military School of Music. He completed it in 1923 and it was premiered in 1924. The work is scored for large military band including piccolo, flutes, oboes, clarinets, bass clarinet, bassoon, horn, trumpets, bass trumpet, cornets, saxophones, trombones, bass tubas, euphonium, and percussion. The following year Vaughan Williams asked his student at the Royal College of Music, Gordon Jacob, to reorchestrate the work for full orchestra, and Jacob also did an arrangement for conventional brass band. The work is arranged in three movements and incorporates nine folk songs. The opening March includes "Seventeen Come Sunday," "Pretty Caroline," and "Dives and Lazarus." The central Intermezzo includes "My Bonny Boy" and "Green Bushes." The closing March -- Folksongs From Somerset includes "Blow Away the Morning Dew," "High Germany," "The Tree So High," and "John Barleycorn." As befits Vaughan Williams at his most robust and cheerful, the English Folk Song Suite is one of his happiest and most attractive works.
16. Fantasia on 'Greensleeves' Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
This well-known concert hall arrangement of Fantasia on Greensleeves appeared five years after the premiere of Vaughan Williams' Shakespearean opera Sir John in Love, wherein the short piece served as an entr'acte. Greaves' arrangement for strings, harp and two flutes expanded the intermezzo by adding a middle section based on the Norfolk folk song "Lovely Joan," which Vaughan Williams had collected in 1908 and which he used elsewhere in the 1929 opera. A wistful descending cadence from solo flute with harp arpeggio introduces the well-known melody, with strummed chords from the harp, suggesting a lute accompaniment, and high strings tremolando above the tune. In the middle section, the two flutes play an intertwining duet on "Lovely Joan" before the return of Greensleeves. A shimmering cadence from the strings and harp brings the work to a glowing conclusion.
Symphony No. 7 for soprano, small female chorus, & orchestra with narrator ad lib ("Sinfonia Antartica") Composition Date 1949-1952 Composition Description by Mark Satola
Of Vaughan Williams' 11 film scores, the best known is his music for Ealing Studios' 1948 production Scott of the Antarctic, the story of the failed South Pole expedition of Robert Falcon Scott. His imagination fired by the subject, Vaughan Williams raced well ahead of studio production, composing most of the music without any visual references to the movie. The resulting music was thereby of unusual independent strength and lent itself particularly well to programmatic symphonic treatment. Vaughan Williams undertook that process between 1949 and 1952, and Sir John Barbirolli conducted the premiere of the new symphony (Vaughan Williams' Seventh) in Manchester on January 21, 1953. In five movements, the Sinfonia Antartica is more of a large concert suite than a classically developed symphony. In the score, each movement is given a superscription which the composer preferred be read silently, but which are sometimes spoken in performance (words of Shelley, Coleridge, and Donne are quoted, as well as the psalms and Scott's journals). In addition, atmospheric use is made throughout of a wordless soprano soloist and women's chorus, and the orchestra is augmented by vibraphone, organ, and wind machine, marking a new interest in unusual orchestral sonorities by the 80-year-old composer.
The opening tune, grim and striving, calls up the theme of man's stubble against implacable nature. After its dark harmonies, with their undercurrent of inevitable tragedy, we are introduced to the Antarctic continent itself by a shimmering mosaic of tone-painting, in which vibraphone, women's eerie, keening voices and wind machine make explicit the hostile environment. Into this cold landscape intrudes a heraldic trumpet call, the challenge of man to the unknown region, bringing the movement to a fine, optimistic climax, propelled by crisp rolls from the side-drum. The voyage to Antarctica is portrayed in the Scherzo, sea spray and cold winds delineated in Debussy-like pointillism. Encounters with whales (a deep groaning theme in the basses) and penguins (a comic, loping episode for trumpet) are set forth before the movement ends suddenly and enigmatically, without a return of the scherzo. The most impressive sound-painting occurs in the third movement, "Landscape," originally accompanying the film's sequence on the awesome Beardmore glacier. A bare, chromatic theme, in canon in the trombones and tuba, is accompanied by icy and glittering fragments from percussion. The weight of this inexorable tune carries the movement forward to an astonishing climax in which the utter inhumanity of the southernmost land is given voice with an all-stops outburst from the organ, after which the music seems to collapse exhausted. A moment of warmth follows in the brief Intermezzo, in the composer's late lyrical style, the main theme given by solo oboe above a piquant mix of major and minor harmonies. Music originally for the apparent suicide of Captain Oates (who left the tent during a fierce blizzard) sounds an ominous note that is more fully developed in the fifth movement. "Epilogue" opens with a minor-key transformation of the first movement's trumpet call. The striving motto theme is now a resolute march, but the music of Antarctica slices into its determined optimism, with chorus and wind machine enveloping the music in a cold storm of defeat. The motto returns elegiacally, and then the wind, snow and wordless voices have the last word.
Conducted by Adrian Boult
17. Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams with Vitya Vronsky, Victor Babin Conducted by Adrian Boult
Vaughan Williams' Piano Concerto in C was premiered in 1933, and gained the favorable opinions of several critics and composers, including Havergal Brian who thought it was his best work. But there were also criticisms, mostly about the high demands of the solo part, and the lack of balance between the massive orchestra and the solo piano. Finally, the composer was persuaded to re-work it for two pianos in 1946, a task he carried out with the collaboration of Joseph Cooper. It is in that version that the Concerto has been mostly heard ever since. However, other critics regretted the move, arguing that the addition of the second piano in a higher octave part conflicts with the orchestral writing, as well as the lessening of the virtuoso appeal of the original. The matter cannot be definitively settled, but it echoes the case of Cortot's misguided attempt to salvage Ravel's Concerto for the Left Hand (also from 1931) reworking it for two hands, which is never played.
18. Job Composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams
Conducted by Adrian Boult
Vaughan Williams wrote only one work that he called a ballet -- Old King Cole (1923) -- but turned out several masques, including Job, which is really a ballet. While it is not a repertory item with the world's ballet companies, it has received a fair measure of attention, especially in England.
The work is cast in nine scenes, with an epilogue (the last scene). The scenario is by Geoffrey Keynes and Gwendolyn Raverat, after William Blake's Illustrations of the Book of Job. Oddly, Vaughan Williams' own synopsis, which was printed in the music score, differs slightly from the one issued by Keynes. The composer's splits the fifth scene in two, thus accounting for nine scenes, whereas Keynes' scenario uses eight scenes. The story centers on Satan's menacing of Job, eventually provoking him to curse God. In the end, it is Satan, however, who is defeated, and Job, now humbled and stronger, triumphant.
The first scene, Introduction: "Pastoral Dance -- Satan's Appeal to God," features a gentle, serene opening, followed by the darker music of Satan. The next scene, "Satan's Triumphal Dance," begins menacingly and then presents a witty, diabolical dance, whose music augurs that in the colorful scherzo of Vaughan Williams' Symphony No. 9 (1958), both works featuring imaginative writing for the xylophone. "Minuet of Job's Sons and Their Wives" follows, an exotic and subdued piece, which exhibits deliciously atmospheric music, in large part from the oboe and winds.
"Job's Dream -- Dance of Plague, Pestilence, Famine and Battle" begins in a subdued, but ominous mood, then powerfully fulfills that wary feeling. "Dance of the Messengers" follows, which is largely subdued and again features imaginative writing for the winds. The ensuing scene, "Dance of Job's Comforters -- Job's Curse -- A Vision of Satan," features, as one might expect, a colorful mixture of music. The opening is witty and highlights the saxophone (if used, as a bass clarinet may be substituted), whose diabolically slithering notes perfectly depict the Comforters, who are really "three wily hypocrites."
The seventh scene, "Elihu's Dance of Youth and Beauty -- Pavane of the Sons of the Morning," begins with a lovely viola solo and later features an attractive dance of rather solemn character. The next scene, "Galliard of the Sons of Morning -- Altar Dance and Heavenly Pavane," is full of drama and color, from the hopeful opening to the more celestial and triumphant music thereafter. The last scene, "Epilogue," follows without break. It is serene and gently triumphant in mood, and recalls music from the opening scene: in both scenes Job sits contentedly with his wife, though he is noticeably older in the latter.
Job has been viewed as auguring the Symphony No. 4 (1931-1934), a violent and dramatic work of profound character. While there are stylistic similarities between the two compositions, Job features less anxiety and a greater sense of repose and serenity. |
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