Brightest London is best reached by Underground, subway poster 1924, credit Wikipedia
Endnotes, August 2024
In this edition: Bruckner’s String Quintet; From Meadow to Mayfair, with Eric Coates, reviewed by Stuart Millson
200 years ago this year, Anton Bruckner was born — a boy who would be shaped by his rural environment in Upper Austria; a young man preoccupied with church music and his work as an organist; a middle-aged figure, destined to be celebrated as one of the greatest symphonists in the European canon, and yet each step of this ascent, fraught with self-doubt and the criticism of those around him. All the great orchestras of the continent, Britain and the United States now play and record his symphonies — the radiant Seventh and magnificent Eighth guaranteed to fill the Philharmonie, Berlin, the Royal Albert Hall, or Orchestra Hall, Chicago. But we know less about the tiny number of Bruckner’s equally masterful chamber pieces, especially the String Quintet, written when the composer was 54 years of age. Chamber music tends to be something of a passion for a smaller number of concertgoers, but even so, the programmes of our leading chamber venues rarely seem to include Bruckner; and this is a pity, because it would enable listeners who might not yet have warmed to the huge symphonic scores to find a point of entry. And Bruckner’s chamber music can even be a revelation to the devotees of his symphonies: indeed, it is surprising that so many individuals who think that they know the composer are unaware of such works as the Quintet.
Cast in four movements, this work for quartet and additional viola, begins with what can only be described as a deep sigh; a world-weary moment, so soon, but shaping a movement of utter beauty; and one as ‘symphonic’ in scale to please any Brucknerian. In fact, listening to the opening movement, marked by the composer as Gemassigt, brings to mind the hush, the expectation at the beginning of the Second Symphony, or the slow movement of the Third. The massive climb then begins, Bruckner testing his players with long spans of taut time as they follow his paths from foothills to higher altitudes.
We catch our breath in a second movement which has the typical touch of this most Austrian of composers: a trio, marked Scherzo, but with a gentle, jolly, unhurried (‘Langsamer’) feel — as if we have just found a small country inn where someone has struck up a simple country serenade on an old fiddle. Yet we seem to be watching and hearing it from just beyond the village garden: this section, for all its lighter spirit, has a peculiar, dreamy quality. Deeper thoughts, though, overcome the structure and spirit of the Adagio movement: this is the Bruckner of those mighty slow-motion symphonic meditations, often tragic and Wagnerian in character. However, Bruckner in his chamber mode offers us a gentle route out from the intensity, the movement ending in a quiet repetition of the main musical idea; the composer almost saying reassuringly, ‘All will be well, all will be well…’
All these great ideas come together in the Finale: Lebhaft bewegt — nearly nine minutes of purposeful flow for the players, and a peroration for musician and listener, alike, that — if scored for full orchestra — would make for a great ovation in a large concert hall. Our CD recommendation for Bruckner’s Quintet is a classic 1993 rendition, recorded at St. George’s, Brandon Hill, Bristol, and captured on the Helios (Hyperion) label by producers Tony Faulkner and Andrew Keener. Performed by the Raphael Ensemble, the work is three quarters of an hour in length.
Finally, and in complete contrast, Chandos records — with John Wilson at the helm of the BBC Philharmonic — take us to the glittering London ballrooms (and rustic copses of 1930s’ ‘olde England’) in Eric Coates’s Suite, From Meadow to Mayfair. Hearing such dazzling, modern full symphonic sound on this recording immediately takes such pieces for light orchestra out of the crackly world of old radio archives; investing the music, instead, with a grace and style that will put a swing in your step. Coates was the master of great, singable tunes (and deliciously romantic wallows).
The curtain-raiser on the album is the 1948 Rediffusion March — Music Everywhere, a piece that brings to mind that semi-mythical golden age of impeccable pronunciation from radio announcers, and summer days in St. James’s Park. Well done to the art department at Chandos for matching the musical mood in their choice for the album’s cover: a 1927 illustration of Buckingham Palace from a poster issued by the Southern Railway. A perfect production for Eric Coates, ‘the uncrowned king of light music’.
Stuart Millson is the Classical Music Editor of The Quarterly Review
CD details:
Bruckner, String Quintet (with Intermezzo) — Helios, CDH55372.
Eric Coates, Orchestral Works (Vol. 4) — BBC Philharmonic, John Wilson, Chandos, CHAN 20292.
