Search - Charles Villiers Stanford, David Lloyd-Jones, Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra :: Stanford: Symphonies Nos. 2 & 5

'I hear a wizard music roll'

J Scott Morrison | Middlebury VT, USA | 01/03/2008

(4 out of 5 stars)

"I gave five stars to the first issue in this Naxos series of symphonies of Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924) at least partly because I was surprised at the quality of the workmanship in those two symphonies, Nos. 4 & 7 in his series of seven. Stanford: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 7 And although the craft apparent in the two symphonies included here -- Nos. 2 & 5 -- is equally expert, I don't think they rise to quite the same level. This is not to say that there isn't a great deal to enjoy, but both the materials and the formal qualities are just a bit below those of particularly the Seventh symphony. That said, though, I can give an endorsement, especially to those who liked the first volume. Stanford's music partakes of the same sort of atmosphere as those of Mendelssohn, Schumann and Brahms with greater influence from the former than the latter composers.



Symphony No. 2 is subtitled 'Elegiac' and takes its inspiration, according to the composer, from Tennyson's 'In Memoriam'. There is no evidence that the work was written in memory of any particular person or persons, and frankly without the subtitle I doubt I would have been thinking it was especially elegiac. It is, however, a classically constructed work whose materials, some of them quite fresh but some of them rather shopworn, are subjected to the typical mid-nineteenth century manipulations. It was written in 1880 and even then may have seemed a bit old-fashioned. It had a brief popularity and then essentially disappeared from concert programs, even in Britain. There is no record of further performances until the 1990s. The first movement has a turbulent first theme followed by a mellow second theme. Nothing in the movement is outstanding. However, the second movement, a Lento espressivo, has more than a few touching moments. The third movement is a rollicking (and certainly not elegiac) Mendelssohnian scherzo with, as so often in the Fourth Symphony, much imitation of Mendelssohn's fairy music, but with some anticipation, strangely enough, of Bruckner's scherzi. The finale is the most nearly Brahmsian movement and after a solemn introduction it is a sonata allegro that leads to a triumphant finish.



The Fifth Symphony attempts to limn the moods of Milton's twin poems, L'Allegro and Il Penseroso. Stanford incorporates excerpts from the poems into the printed score; they describe in words what he attempts to depict in music. It is a classically constructed symphony with a sonata allegro first movement followed by a genial Allegretto with hints of hunting horns and peasant merrymaking ('mirth with thee I mean to live'). In the third movement we move into 'penseroso' territory. It is a gorgeously harmonized chorale with four-voiced chords in strings and soft brass occasionally punctuated by piquant wind interjections. This movement, for me, is the highlight of the entire CD. The finale, Allegro molto, attempts to 'let gorgeous Tragedy/In sceptr'd pall come sweeping by' and then comes to a quietly affirmatory ending.



As in the earlier CD in this series, Lloyd-Jones and Bournemouth Symphony give us two beautifully played performances, fully competitive with the early recordings by Vernon Handley and the Ulster Orchestra, and at an attractive budget price.



Scott Morrison"

Sturdy and Craftsmanlike

Joseph Barbarie | new haven, CT | 12/16/2008

(3 out of 5 stars)

"It is only fair, I suppose, that the name of Charles Villiers Stanford has not garnered the recognition that other composers with lesser technical gifts, but greater powers of inspiration, have. In this regard, I think of Wagner, of Bruckner, or even of Stanford's countryman Elgar. These were all men with far less symphonic erudition, less orchestral wherewithal, than Stanford -- and yet their works persist in the repertoire, while Stanford's must be the beneficiaries of what almost might be termed artistic charity, or curiosity, at least.



Truly great art has a certain intangible quality to it that makes it great -- one critic finds it hiding in this detail or that gesture. Another finds the spark of greatness in the artist's soul itself, as though that were something capable, or worthy, of being judged apart for his work.



Although I would argue that genius resides in the gradual accumulation of detail, and their relation to other details within the work, the truth is more probably that artistic genius is not capable of definition (at least not one useful for a critic). Simply, there is an inexplicable sensation caused by that first glimpse of the Pieta, or by first notes of Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik", that is not caused by lesser works.



On the other hand, there is much to be said for that artist, who while not entirely original, is faultless in his taste, and his execution of his own efforts. Here, in these two symphonies, Stanford makes no missteps, makes no false or questionable overtures to his audience's ears. These are works which require a patience, but not of the usual sort required in indulging unfamiliar musical repertoire (that is, the teeth-gritting, ear-clenching, fetal-positioned, sort). Rather, one must approach them with a certain innocence, a certain equanimity, an internal peace, as it were. Having done so, it is possible to detect the subtetly at work under the works' smooth, polished surfaces. Stanford's deft orchestration -- take for instance, the dense, but cantabile, bass-writing in the first movement of the Fifth Symphony -- shows considerable care and restraint, and is always in service of the music's larger goal.



In this regard -- although, again, we are talking about a greater magnitude of genius -- I think of Sibelius, whose works' unusual formal designs are bound up with, and realized by, a miraculous sense of orchestral color. Although Stanford's palette is more muted, it is no less accomplished."