United Kingdom Oxford Lieder Festival [4] – Venables, Vaughan Williams: Alessandro Fisher (tenor), William Vann (piano), Navarra Quartet. Holywell Music Room, Oxford, 21.10.2022. (JQ)
Vaughan Williams (arr. Iain Farrington) – ‘Lord, Come Away!’ (from Four Hymns)
Ian Venables – Portrait of a Mind, Op.54 (world premiere)
Vaughan Williams – On Wenlock Edge
This concert was the last of four consecutive lunchtime events which the Oxford Lieder Festival has promoted in association with BBC Radio 3 under the title ‘Vaughan Williams Perspectives’. It included as its centrepiece a new song cycle commissioned from Ian Venables by the Ralph Vaughan Williams Society to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the composer’s birth.
Fittingly, the new work was encased by Vaughan Williams’ own music but the opening piece was presented in a new guise. Four Hymns was completed in 1914 and the work, which is scored for tenor accompanied by either string orchestra or by piano with viola obbligato, was scheduled to receive its first performance – in the orchestral version, I presume – at that year’s Three Choirs Festival. The outbreak of war and subsequent cancellation of the Festival enforced a postponement and I think the premiere finally took place in 1920. In his book The Works of Ralph Vaughan Williams, Michael Kennedy refers to a 1925 concert at which Steuart Wilson, the dedicatee of the Four Hymns, sang them in a new arrangement for piano quintet. Whether that arrangement was made by VW himself I do not know, but I believe that the parts are lost. The composer Iain Farrington has made a new arrangement for the same forces and, hot off the press, we heard one of the Hymns, ‘Lord, Come Away!’ which sets words by the English divine, Jeremy Taylor (1613-1667). This is an impassioned prayer which VW set to suitably matching music. Alessandro Fisher, a past member of the BBC’s New Generation Artists scheme (2018-21), made an immediate impression. His ringing voice was ideally suited to the music and I was impressed by the clarity both of his diction and his tone, qualities which were to be a feature of the whole concert. The melismatic vocal line was fervently delivered and the top register of his voice was a particular delight to hear. He was supported in an ideal fashion by the Navarra Quartet and William Vann. It seemed to me that Farrington’s reimagining of the accompaniment was entirely successful, and I look forward very much to hearing all four Hymns in a forthcoming recording by these artists.
On Wenlock Edge (1909) is among VW’s finest early achievements. His settings of six poems from A E Housman’s celebrated collection, A Shropshire Lad rank as among the most inspired of the very many musical responses to that volume of poetry. As such, the cycle was an ideal way in which to conclude this short series of Oxford song recitals celebrating Vaughan Williams. Just a few days ago I had attended a performance of the cycle given by James Gilchrist (review). It was fascinating to compare the two performances in my mind. Gilchrist, of course, has been performing these songs for many years and brought to them his vast experience of them. He also brought to the performance his strong operatic pedigree in the way that he used physical gestures to illustrate and illuminate the music. Fisher is a younger artist. Whilst he may not yet have Gilchrist’s lived experience of the songs, there was a richly rewarding freshness to his approach. He was more restrained in his platform manner, letting his facial expressions and voice convey the meaning and, on balance, I preferred that way with the music. Furthermore, his voice is a larger instrument than Gilchrist’s and though he used his undoubted vocal power with sensible discretion in a fairly intimate acoustic, I liked very much the amplitude which he was able to deploy at times, though elsewhere he was extremely sensitive in his singing. One thing that both artists had in common – though they showed it in different ways – was a great engagement with the texts and their ability to communicate Housman’s poetry to the audience. It would be futile – and presumptuous – to suggest that one performance was ‘better’ that the other; I was just glad to have the opportunity to experience two contrasting and excellent performances in such a short space of time.
The instrumentalists brought a great urgency to the opening song, ‘On Wenlock Edge’; the sense of gusts of wind was almost tangible. Fisher picked up that mood at once and invested the vocal line and the words with similar urgency. ‘Is my team ploughing’ is a test of the singer’s ability to characterise. Unsurprisingly and correctly, Fisher characterised both the dead man and his friend as young men. The pallor of singing and playing in the verses that articulate the dead man’s questions was ideally judged, as was the more robust nature of the living man’s responses. The concluding stanzas were fascinating. In the penultimate verse (‘Is my friend hearty’) Fisher conveyed to an extent that not many singers do, a sense of realisation: the dead man has become aware of what has become of his friend and his sweetheart. In the last verse of all (‘Yes, lad, I lie easy’) one often gets the sense that the survivor feels guilty – a very valid approach. Here. though, Fisher’s delivery suggested that the friend just wanted to put the memory of his dead friend behind him: life goes on.
At the heart of On Wenlock Edge lies ‘Bredon Hill’ and VW’s masterly, imaginative musical response to Housman’s tale of happiness turning to sorrow. In this performance all six musicians worked with perception and skill to unfold a compelling narrative. The instrumentalists have a key role. Not only do they set the varying emotional tones through their depiction of different types of bells – wedding bells, a tolling funeral bell – but also, they have the responsibility of establishing the mood at key junctures, not least in painting an aural picture of wintry chill as the story takes a tragic turn (‘But when the snows at Christmas’). I thought that Vann and the Navarra Quartet were extremely effective in everything that VW called upon them to do. Fisher drew us into the story compellingly. He brought innocent joy to the first four stanzas in which everything is going well for the young man and his sweetheart. Then, as the young bride dies at far too early an age, Fisher expressed the numb shock and grief. Finally, there was ringing anguish as he declaimed ‘O noisy bells, be dumb’. This was a riveting account of a great narrative song.
I was strongly impressed by all aspects of this performance of On Wenlock Edge. It struck me as a genuine team effort; there was no sense of the singer merely being accompanied by the instrumentalists. Everyone had worked hard to penetrate these songs and to convey their vision of them to the audience. The extremely enthusiastic appreciation the performers received was thoroughly justified.
The centrepiece of the programme was the first performance of Ian Venables’ new cycle, Portrait of a Mind. In a programme note, Venables referred to VW as a ‘constant companion’ throughout his life. He went on to explain the title: ‘As a tribute to this great composer, I decided to compose a cycle of songs that would emphasise the principal themes that informed his creativity and thus “paint” a kind of musical portrait in which each song reflects a different aspect of his creative mind … I eventually settled on five poems that highlighted the themes I wished to present, namely: Nature; The Meaning of Art; Love; Death and Transcendence.’ Those who are familiar with Venables as a master of English song composition will know that he is wide-ranging and perceptive in his selection of texts. Very appropriately, he chose lines by five poets, all of whom had strong links with VW in one way or another: George Meredith, Ursula Vaughan Williams, Robert Louis Stephenson, Christina Rossetti and Walt Whitman. I understand that it was Venables’ idea to score the work for the same forces as On Wenlock Edge. He has used the combination of voice and piano quintet in three of his previous song cycles, one of which, Songs of Eternity and Sorrow, Op.36, was also for tenor.
The new set opens with lines from Meredith’s poem The Lark Ascending. The poem is inscribed in the score of VW’s celebrated work for violin and orchestra, but Venables sensibly edited the poetry into a briefer form but in a way that preserved its essentials. Perhaps inevitably, a solo violin line is prominent during the instrumental prelude. The music is meditative and slow-moving, gradually building in intensity. In the middle of the song the tempo picks up somewhat before returning to the ambience of the opening, but this time with more of a tone of ecstasy; the lark has taken flight. The music in this song was wonderfully expressive and the vocal line, beautifully delivered by Fisher, featured long, highly appealing lines. The cycle was thus most auspiciously launched.
Next came Man Makes Delight his Own, the poem by Ursula. I learned from the composer’s programme note – which was available online, so I could only access it retrospectively – that she wrote it in 1953, the year before she and Ralph married; it was ‘a loving tribute to her future husband.’ Venables clothed Ursula’s lines in slow, thoughtful and, eventually, rapt music which exerted a strong appeal to me. Equally appealing was Fisher’s singing which communicated both the poem and the music to the audience with no little feeling. Robert Louis Stephenson’s poems were set by VW in Songs of Travel. In that instance, the traveller was on foot; here Venables chose a different mode of locomotion with From a Railway Carriage. I had not encountered this 1885 poem before – in passing, I wonder if anyone else has set it to music. As the composer comments, Stephenson here conveys the excitement of a young child viewing the world as it speeds by during a train ride. Naturally, these words required – and got – much more energetic music. The instrumentalists provided a strong rhythmic impulsion. It was noticeable, though, that even in this quicker-moving music Venables did not compromise on his use of lyrical lines in the vocal part.
Next came Christina Rossetti, sister of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the poet of The House of Life. Venables selected Christina’s poem Echo and, as I learned from his programme note, there were compelling reasons for this. It seems – and this was news to me – that VW was inspired by this very poem to compose a Symphonic Rhapsody for Orchestra in 1904, the same year in which he wrote The House of Life. That score is now lost. The poem is an expression of aching regret for a dead lover who can now only be experienced in dreams (‘Yet come to me in dreams’). Venables’ musical response to the poetry is acute; the music is slow and intense. The accompaniment is often spare and the song makes its impact through the ardent vocal line, which was compellingly projected by Fisher. One telling little gesture which I noted was a pause that was made by the instrumentalists before the start of the last stanza. I don’t know whether this is written into the score or was an interpretative decision; either way, it was highly effective. This deeply expressive song and performance impressed me very much indeed.
In setting out to honour Ralph Vaughan Williams through a selection of texts it would have been impossible for Ian Venables to overlook the claims of Walt Whitman. It seemed entirely fitting that the concluding song should be A Clear Midnight. As Venables put it, in comments I read later, ‘For me, the short lyric A Clear Midnight captures the essence of RVW’s spiritual convictions and brings the cycle full circle: the freedom of the human spirit symbolised by the lark’s ascent in the first song, is now mirrored by Whitman’s faith in the Soul’s transcendence.’ As I listened, I jotted down my feeling that this song was a slow, deeply expressive celebration of the creative bond between VW and Whitman. Yet again, we heard a wonderfully communicative vocal line, made all the more communicative by the way Fisher delivered it. When the expressive possibilities of singing had been fully explored, Venables handed over to the instrumentalists who brought both song and cycle to a very satisfying conclusion in a rapt, emotional coda.
These five songs constitute a very fine and eloquent tribute to VW. Venables has achieved a well-deserved reputation as a pre-eminent composer of English song and he proved to be, as I had expected, an ideal choice for this Ralph Vaughan Williams Society commission. The performance and the composer received a very warm reception from the audience. If I have a criticism of Portrait of a Mind – and it is a mild one – I would have liked to hear another song in a quick tempo: four of the five are at slow or moderate speed. However, that would have meant an extra song because I would not willingly forego any of the five, and I do accept that a sixth song would have upset the structural design of the work since Ian Venables had perceptively identified five aspects of VW that he wished to illustrate. I doubt if the composer could have wished for a better premiere. All six performers offered us a collective experience that was committed, perceptive and highly skilled. I am impatient to hear these songs again, though I deliberately have not sought to hear them again before writing this review, so that I can record here – for better or worse – my first impressions.
The concert was broadcast live on BBC Radio 3 which means that anyone with access to BBC Sounds will be able to hear it for the next thirty days. Even better news is that Albion Records plan to record all the music we heard, along with Iain Farrington’s arrangements of the remaining three of the Four Hymns. The recording, by today’s performers, is scheduled to be made next month with a planned release in the first half of 2023.
Ian Venables’ notes on Portrait of a Mind can be read here.
John Quinn