Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 4, No. 3 (1929-12)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

78 The Phonograph Monthly Review December, 1929 realist, or an impressionist, could hardly have written to such a title, without a few touches of realism, or (to suggest a less stark method) ‘pic- torialism.’ ” A Dance Rhapsody , like Brigg Fair , is written in the form of elaborate variations on a tune (and in this case a kind of tag-phase that plays an im- portant part in the development), but there is less of a passacaglia effect here, and the work as a whole is perhaps somewhat less characteristic. (But the heavenly molto adagio variation for solo violin just before the end is purest Delius.) Yet as a concert work it is perhaps even more effec- tive on account of its piquant and jaunty tuneful- ness and zestful rhythmical seasoning. Unfortu- nately there is no worthy recording. The only phonographic version is the accoustical one con- ducted by Sir Henry Wood on Columbia 67079- 80-D, three sides, and although it is played with considerable verve, the work is cruelly abbre- viated (the excision of a variation for wood winds alone is particularly unforgivable) and by no means representative of the music. Unquestion- ably a re-recording will be issued as an aftermath to the Delius festival. Delius’ art reaches its full maturity and finest flowering in a series of great works for chorus and orchestra: Appalachia, variations on an old slave song with final chorus; Sea Drift , after Walt Whitman’s “Out of the cradle endlessly rocking;” A Mass of Life, on passages from Nietzsche’s Also Sprach Zarathustra; and Song of the High Hills . There are other choral works but they are less significant. It is these that give Delius an uncontestable place among the musical libermenschen. Comment on them is impertinent here except in regard to their phonographic possi- bilities. Sea Drift has recently been recorded un- der the direction of an un-named conductor for the British Decca Company (S-10010-12), and the performance is reviewed elsewhere in this issue. It is sufficient to say here that the disks are unescapably inadequate, giving little or no indication of the work’s surpassing loveliness and overwhelming impressiveness. The work is ex- traordinarily difficult but not unsurmountably so. I do not believe that it is impossible to record effectively if not completely satisfactorily, but the task requires a Beecham. The difficulty and scope of the Mass of Life and the Song of the High Hills preclude any recording attempts for some time to comle. At least I hope so; I should not like to hear another barbarous butchery such as given to the latter in an American concert hall a few years ago. Appalachia, however, is the work that first won Delius any degree of re- cognition. The sparing (but effective) use of the chorus explains its neglect in the concert hall, where if a chorus is available it must be worked for all its money’s worth (like the cafe drummer of anecdote who was fired for loafing during Handel’s Largo) ! It is admirably suited for re- cording and judging by the persistent demand in the British musical press a phonographic version will not be long lacking. Returning to works in smaller forms we have a number of chamber music recordings of lively interest not only to Delius students but to the average musical layman—once he is given the opportunity of hearing them. Most emphatically first is the supremely rhapsodical sonata for violoncello and piano, played by Beatrice Harri- son—for whom it w#s written—and Harold Crax- ton, and excellently recorded (H. M. V. D-1103- 4). I cannot recommend this work too highly. It follows the Walk to the Paradise Garden and On Hearing the First Cuckoo on the exploration route to Delius’ realm. He has also written a ’cello concerto for Miss Harrison, which she has played widely abroad and with several leading orchestras in this country. Like the sonata it is continuous in texture from beginning to end, flowing smoothly, broadly, and with ever-sus- tained power. “Only in his maturity can a com- poser dare to write music so simple, so economical in means, so disdainful of turbulence and noise, so even in mood” (W. H. Squire). Is it too much to hope that Miss Harrison will record her per- formance? There are two sonatas for violin and piano, one written near the beginning and the other near the end of Delius’ composing career. I do not know the former work, recorded this month for H. M. V. (C-1749-50) by May Harrison, sister to Beatrice, and Arnold Bax, the composer. The second sonata was recorded in the acoustical era by Albert Sammons and E. Howard Jones (Eng- lish Columbia D-1500-1, two ten-inch disks), and this month the Columbia Company in England is issuing Lionel Tertis’ transcription for viola and piano, played by Tertis and George Reeves (L-2342-3, three sides). On the fourth side Tertis plays an arrangement of the serenade from the incidental music to Flecker’s Hassan . The sonata is a good one, but less distinctively origin- al and striking than that for ’cello. The old records were fair by acoustical standards and undoubtedly Tertis’ performance is worthy of both him and the music. Delius’ major work for violin is a concerto, of extraordinary difficulty, but exceedingly characteristic and effective. Mention of the Hassan serenade reminds me of the old, long-since withdrawn records of this music, played by members of H. M. Theatre Or- chestra and chorus under Percy Fletcher (H. M. V. C-l 134-5). On the first record the orchestra played the preludes to Acts I and V, the Proces- sion of the Protracted Death and the Entrance of the Soldiers —the last a vigorous bit of occasional writing rather surprising from Delius. On the second disk was the serenade as a tenor solo with a harp substituted most inappropriately for the off-stage piano demanded in the score, final chorus, Beggars ’ Chorus , Entrance of the Beauties , and Bacchanale. Performance and re- cording were mediocre at best, nor is the music particularly significant. Considered for its pur- pose it has points of charm and effectiveness, but still, it is a piece d’occasion and adds nothing to the composer’s fame.