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md
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The Vaughan Williams Item
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Oct 25 12:10 UTC 2002 |
This item is to enthuse about the English composer Ralph Vaughan
Williams. Some basics:
1. His last name is Vaughan Williams. Two names, no hyphen. You will
find him under the letter "V" in good CD shops. If you have kids in
school band programs you might be familiar with some of his band
music. (All Brit composers were expected to produce a certain amount
of band music. I do not question, I merely report.) If so, you
might've seen his name listed as "R.V. Williams" on the school band
concert programs. Don't believe it.
2. His first name is pronounced "Ralph." His friends and family called
him "Rafe," but he prefered to be called "Ralph" by everyone else.
Nevertheless, you will hear radio announcers and others refer to him
as "Rafe" Vaughan Williams. They don't know any better, but if you
don't want to sound lowbrow to them you might want to say "Rafe," too,
or else just say "Vaughan Williams" and avoid his first name altogether.
3. People call him "RVW" for short. There is a Vaughan Williams
Society web site at http://www.rvwsociety.com/
4. Another place you might've heard his music is in church, if you're
Protestant. He wrote many hymns and anthems that are sung to this day.
5. He and his friend Gustav Holst (the "Planets" guy) spent a few years
roaming the countryside collecting folksongs. They were the British
counterparts of Bartok and Kodaly in that respect. Same time-frame,
too. Much of RVW's music after that was infused with English
folksong. You might've heard his famous arrangement of Greensleeves.
6. His dates are 1872 - 1958. He wrote nine symphonies, the first when
he was in his thirties, the last when he was in his eighties.
7. His grandmother taught him to read out of the same book with which
she had taught her younger brother, Charles Darwin. To RVW, Darwin
was "Great-uncle Charles." Other family trivia: RVW was descended from
Josiah Wedgwood, if you're into that white-on-blue china stuff. (Note
correct spelling, btw.)
8. He looked like a big tweedy gentleman-farmer. Photographers and
sculptors loved him. See
http://www.cs.qub.ac.uk/~J.Collis/gifs/rvw+cat.jpg
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| 31 responses total. |
md
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response 1 of 31:
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Oct 25 12:29 UTC 2002 |
I believe the traditional radio announcer pronunciation of RVW's first
name goes back to the mournful little speech Sir Adrian Boult recorded
on the first LP, on the Everest label, of RVW's 9th Symphony. It
began, "We had hoped that our beloved friend, Rafe Vaughan Williams,
would have been with us here in the studio for the recording of his
last symphony, but his death took place just seven hours before we
began our work on it."
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dbratman
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response 2 of 31:
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Oct 26 00:10 UTC 2002 |
Beg pardon, but I think you're mistaken about point 2.
"Ralph's name was pronounced Rafe, any other pronunciation used to
infuriate him." - _R.V.W.: A Biography of Ralph Vaughan Williams_ by
Ursula Vaughan Williams (OUP, 1964), prefatory note, p. [xv].
If you have any solid evidence trumping the authoritative biography by
his widow, please share it.
(It may be necessary to point out to American readers that there is
nothing unusual or affected about the pronunciation "Rafe" - it is, I
understand, the usual pronunciation of "Ralph" in Britain, though there
are exceptions.)
But whatever his name, I love his music, and classify him among my half-
dozen favorite composers of the first half of the 20th century.
A few observations of my own:
1) Despite its occasional startling resemblance to French
Impressionism, his music sounds to me quintessentially English, even
more so than Elgar's. Elgar rose to facile patriotism and descended to
pathos; RVW did neither, and is utterly self-contained without being
self-absorbed. This English quality comes through even in works with
no connection with folk music, and even in works expressly non-English
in inspiration, such as the incidental music to Aristophanes' The Wasps.
2) Though born in a Cotswolds village, he was raised near London and
always considered himself a Londoner, even during the many years he
spent living in an exurban town so that his invalid first wife could
have a home without stairs.
3) Of his nine symphonies, I have always found the Ninth to be quite
opaque, but except for the Fourth, which is a bit too prickly to take
to heart, I am very fond of the others. The Third, Fifth, and Seventh
seem to me to be successive attempts to do approximately the same
thing, each time better than before (which is not meant as a criticism
of the Third); the Sixth achieves the same utterly strange viciousness
as the Fourth without the prickliness, and is even more remarkably
original; and I must say a word in favor of the First, the "Sea
Symphony". This one of the few choral works in my pantheon of
masterpieces. Based on poems of Whitman (and sounding utterly English,
nevertheless), it remarkably manages to make the heavy-footed, clunky
Whitman sound lyrical, especially in the slow movement.
4) If you want a work that sounds like the Fourth and Fifth Symphonies
at once, try "Job".
5) Some composers put their work down and leave it. RVW was a
compulsive reviser. I have a recording of the Sixth Symphony with two
versions of one movement, the revised version written after the
original was recorded; and a recording was recently made, the first
ever, of the original version of the Second Symphony, the "London".
It's somewhat more expansive than the revised version, and considering
how quick the revised version is to jump from theme to theme, section
to section, I can't help but prefer the original in places.
6) The best RVW concert I ever attended was at the Barbican in London
in 1995 (the same trip at which I attended the Steeleye Span reunion
concert). The Bournemouth Symphony was performing all nine symphonies
in a series; the concert I attended had the two vocal symphonies,
numbers 1 and 7. Magnificent and moving. I've never heard these works
live on any other occasion. Come to think of it, the only other
occasion I'm sure I've heard any of his music live was one performance
of the Tuba Concerto. Thank the Lord for records, on which he is very
well served.
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md
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response 3 of 31:
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Oct 26 13:41 UTC 2002 |
Ah, a fellow RVW aficionado! My recollection that RVW himself
preferred strangers to call him "Ralph" instead of "Rafe" is from the
Michael Kennedy bio, which I haven't seen in at least twenty years so
who knows? It made a kind of sense, barely, but of course Ursula's
book rules.
My take on the symphonies, fwiw:
1. The Sea Symphony has never appealed to me as much as the others.
It's a mighty choral work in its own right, but it's young RVW before
he found his voice.
2. The London Symphony comes closer. The business about emerging from
the fog and then receding back into it is nice, and the second movement
is a wonderfully moody nocturne. And of course everyone loves the
orchestral imitation of a harmonica in the third movement.
3. The Pastoral is my favorite. (It's also RVW's third "vocal"
symphony if you count the soprano solo in the last movement.) It is a
magical piece of work for me and for lots of others, but I think its
appeal is limited. The critic who said it reminded him of a cow
looking over a fence probably expressed the majority opinion: this is
not exactly a pulse-pounding excitement.
4. Very prickly, yes, but better than anything that followed it, in my
opinion. The second movement might be the greatest single orchestral
movement he ever wrote. The finale, with that fugal epilog, is
actually frightening. One of the RVW symphonies I've heard performed
live. I was terrified that someone might start clapping during the
long pause before that final angry staccato chord, but no one did.
5. An absolutely beautiful piece of music. The scherzo is a small
masterpiece in itself. The slow movement is one of those enthralled,
suspended-in-time pieces. A better use of his Pilgrim's Progess music
that the opera itself, imho.
6. The flowering of RVW's late style, for which I have the sort of
exasperated affection we have for our parents when they get old and
cranky. But it's a masterpiece nevertheless. It is the most Mahlerian
or Shostakovichoid of his symphonies. A real drama is played out. The
first movement is the gem -- better than the famous pianissimo last
movement, imho. The coughing and rustling of the audience during the
finale in the one live performance I attended was excruciating. Stick
with the CD, and listen to it on headphones.
7. Really just a suite of music from his soundtrack to Scott of the
Antarctic. More late-period music, not a big favorite of mine. The
stupendous fortissimo organ passage in the glacier movement is neat-o,
though. My old Boult/London LP has John Gielgud reading aloud the
passages from Shelley, the Bible, Donne, Scott's journals, that RVW
placed at the head of each movement in the score. This practice was
apparently not what RVW intended, and was discontinued thereafter.
8. I absolutely love this little symphony. I have nothing to base this
opinion on, but I suspect that in it RVW was answering Beethoven's
8th. It's quirky, a little silly, "unbuttoned" as Beethoven said of
his own 8th. Like Beethoven's 8th, it's relatively short in duration:
it fits on one side of an LP. Anyway, I love it. You smile all the
way through it. It's got to be the most approachable and listenable of
his symphonies, but not very characteristic and for that reason maybe
not the best introduction to his music.
9. One last tremendous effort by an old man, and the strain shows. But
that's part of the music's appeal, I think. The image of old RVW
ascending to heaven on glittering clouds of glory at the very end is
unmistakeable, but surely not intended by RVW hiself.
A very approximate list of my favorites in descending order might look
like: 3, 5, 4, 6, 8, 2, 7, 9, 1. 4 and 5 are tied, really. 8 would be
higher, but it's so jokey and slight.
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albaugh
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response 4 of 31:
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Oct 28 20:03 UTC 2002 |
Along with Holst and Percy Granger (yeah, I know he's Aussie, but... ;-)
Vaughn Williams makes up the basic "British" repertoire for band music.
"Been there, done that!" many times. :-)
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dbratman
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response 5 of 31:
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Oct 28 21:14 UTC 2002 |
Kevin: Hey, RVW's "English Folk Song Suite" (for band) is incredibly
catchy! So are Holst's two Suites for band.
Michael: If you're referring to Kennedy's _The Works of Ralph Vaughan
Williams_, it's better described as a discussion of his music than a
biography, though it has biographical material in it. I browsed
through the 1980 edition - the section on RVW's personal life, and
Kennedy's account of his own friendship with RVW - and found at a
glance nothing about the pronunciation of his name.
A few more comments on the symphonies:
The Sea Symphony (which isn't really any more of a symphony than
Sibelius's Kullervo is) I agree doesn't sound very characteristic of
the composer's later developed style - though in some places it does.
I don't hold that against it.
I really ought to get to know the Pastoral better. I don't have a CD
of it, which is one barrier. I think it was Constant Lambert (or
possibly Elizabeth Maconchy) who came up with the "cow looking over a
gate" line, to which I reply, after Churchill, "Some cow! Some gate!"
Despite its reputation, the Pastoral is not an eventless quiet musing,
but a work of strength and passion.
The Fifth is the symphony I've most closely studied, partly in
connection with a marvelous concert performance of it, by the late San
Jose Symphony of all people, that I once heard. (I'd forgotten about
that when I last wrote.) I'm impressed with the careful detail work
that puts it together, from the shaping of the harmony in the opening
theme on. I'm sure this applies equally well to all his work.
I'd guess that the Sixth requires a riveting performance of this
(properly) riveting music. After the implacability of what comes
before, the finale should be sat through in stunned silence!
I consider the Antartica much superior to the reputation it gets from
its origin. Lots of works that aren't film music get described as
sounding as if they were (it's a favorite comment of Shostakovich-
bashers), and the Antartica would probably be susceptible to such
remarks even if it didn't have a film-music origin. But the very fact
that the comment is made in such a loose way suggests it's over-used.
If one didn't know the work's origins, would it be a fair criticism?
Not in some other cases, and not I think here.
You're quite right, to my understanding, that the inscriptions should
not be recited. They're printed in the score; they should be printed
in program notes and liner notes. That's all. I have the later Boult
recording on LP (London), which does this.
If you like the fortissimo organ passage in this work, you should
definitely get "Job" if you don't have it.
Yes, the Eighth is great fun. The sound is entirely different, but the
spirit reminds me of some of Malcolm Arnold's earlier works (before he
tried to recast himself as Hamlet).
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md
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response 6 of 31:
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Oct 28 23:35 UTC 2002 |
RVW's Toccata Marziale is my favorite band piece of his. I think a new
recording of it by a British band was released within the past decade.
Worth having. Hammersmith is my favorite band work by Holst. He
arranged it for orchestra and it isn't nearly as good in that version.
My favorite Holst work, to get this free-associating over with, is
Egdon Heath. Highest, highest recommendation.
I don't think the Antarctica Symphony sounds like movie music at all,
even though it is. It's not *bad* music, I'm just not a huge fan it.
It's late-late Vaughan Williams, when he basically let the tritone take
over his imagination. (More free-associating: when I was an
impressionable teenager I saw Scott of the Antarctic on TV and went out
and bought an electric blanket the next day. Hand on my heart.)
I've been a fan of "Job" for 40 years. The "ooga-booga!" Satan parts
require a suspension of disbelief, at least for me, but the rest of it
is wonderful.
Nobody's mentioned the Tallis Fantasia yet. Is there a more
breathtaking piece of music?
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dbratman
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response 7 of 31:
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Oct 29 00:00 UTC 2002 |
Or "The Lark Ascending". There's gorgeous music for you, and it's
basically quiet and contemplative, like the Pastoral Symphony is
wrongly supposed to be.
The Radio 3 page of "Discovery" programs
<http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/classical/discover.shtml> has a
particularly good program on the Tallis Fantasia, partly because it's
comparative. They play the original Tallis hymn, which I'd wanted to
hear for years but never got a chance. They analyze the richness of
the opening chord as being caused by its being a widely-spaced chord
played mostly on open strings, and compare it to the openings of
Hindemith's "Mathis der Maler" and Ives' "The Unanswered Question,"
which are similar, have much the same effect (especially the
Hindemith), and whose composers were more explicit about the emotional
connotation they were after than RVW was.
A while ago I went looking for videos of films he'd scored.
Found "49th Parallel" and watched that.
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md
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response 8 of 31:
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Oct 30 13:21 UTC 2002 |
That's a great web site. Thanks for entering the url. I very much
enjoyed the Tallis Fantasia segment, even though the narrator/writer
gets a little carried away. (Who can blame him?)
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dbratman
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response 9 of 31:
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Oct 30 17:18 UTC 2002 |
The programs on that BBC web site (which I discovered through Ken
Josenhans recommending their radio link) are of variable quality, but
mostly pretty helpful. I haven't listed to the one for the RVW 5th
Symphony yet, nor (I must confess) have I heard all of the program for
the Tallis Fantasia - ran out of time while I was listening to it.
But I did listen to two Tchaikovsky programs in full (my brother is a
big Tchaikovsky fan, as so many tyros in the classical field are, and I
wanted to preview them before recommending this to him), and found the
program on "Romeo and Juliet" rather wayward (presenting the piece very
much out of chronological order, and imposing a distinctly eccentric
conception of its construction), but the one on the 4th Symphony was
excellent.
Coming back to RVW, what do you think of his symphonies _as_
symphonies? The strict 19th century conception of a symphony as a work
in sonata form had pretty much gone by the wayside by his time, but
there's still a sense in which some works are more symphonic than
others. (See Robert Simpson's essay in volume 2 of the Penguin
Symphony.) I get the impression that the Sea and London Symphonies, at
least, are really more multi-movement tone poems than real symphonies,
and had the composer died after them, he wouldn't be thought of today
as a symphonist at all. (Remember that he didn't number the works
until years later, retroactively, and that many other composers have
used the word "symphony" to describe works not subsequently thought of
as symphonies at all - Sibelius's Kullervo, Goldmark's Rustic Wedding,
Felicien David's extravaganzas, etc.)
Nevertheless I heard them as works of symphonic heft, the way that La
Mer is a work of symphonic heft. And there's no question in my mind
that the central trilogy, numbers 4-6, are not only real symphonies,
but that they're important symphonies and, as a group, one of the most
outstanding sequences ever written, better _as a sequence_ than
Shostakovich's war symphonies, numbers 7-9.
("Better than Shostakovich" is very high praise from me.)
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md
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response 10 of 31:
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Oct 30 18:54 UTC 2002 |
"Symphonic heft" just about says it all. If that phrase doesn't
include the symphonic logic and economy, and the thematic and motivic
development, that characterized symphonies once upon a time, you can
add those qualities as well.
RVW's first movements sound like first movements and his finales sound
like finales, and there's usually the pair of fast-slow (5 & 8) or slow-
fast (1, 2, 3, 4, 6 & 9) middle movements. Several of the symphonies
are cyclic in nature, with one or two themes holding the whole thing
together; all of them have a kind of symphonic unity -- a single mood
or attitude or sound-world is maintained throughout the symphony that
is different from the composer's other symphonies. But why RVW's 4th
sounds like a symphony to me, but Debussy's La Mer or Bartok's Concerto
for Orchestra don't, is a mystery. I'm sure it's all very arbitrary,
and in any case a just matter of taste or semantics.
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albaugh
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response 11 of 31:
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Nov 1 17:33 UTC 2002 |
It just occurred to me: If you hear some really bad Vaughan Williams music,
or some good music very badly played, does it make you want to ralph or want
to rafe? ;-)
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md
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response 12 of 31:
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Nov 1 18:36 UTC 2002 |
Rafe, apparently.
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dbratman
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response 13 of 31:
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Nov 1 23:00 UTC 2002 |
Is there any bad RVW? Lots of great composers wrote some really bad
music - Shostakovich certainly, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, even Schubert -
but I can't recall any from RVW.
Above, I was speaking of two different levels of approach towards the
ideal symphony. By "symphonic heft" I mean weight, seriousness, a
certain degree of complexity, a lack of just making pleasant sounds for
the heck of it (not that there's anything wrong with that). RVW's Sea
and London have that, so to my ears does La Mer; Bartok's Concerto for
Orchestra I'm not so sure of.
But the "true symphony," the level which RVW's 4-6 attain but (to my
ears) the earlier works do not, has a concision and an inter-knit logic
that goes beyond the previous virtues. The London Symphony is very
attractive and very well-constructed, but it has an episodic nature and
not so much of the inter-knit construction. By that I mean things like
the repeated interweaving of a motive or interval throughout the work.
If the London does that, it doesn't so much sound like it does it.
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md
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response 14 of 31:
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Nov 2 05:39 UTC 2002 |
There are some famous are-they-or-aren't-they compositions. Sibelius's
7th, for example, is nothing if not hefty, but I don't think it's even
as much of a symphony as, say, La Mer. Das Lied von der Erde was in
fact Mahler's 9th symphony, until he decided to try and cheat fate by
calling it something else. I guess we're pretty much left with
whatever the composer chose to leave us with.
I sometimes find it hard to classify music of a composer I have as much
affection for as I do for RVW as "good" or "bad." I find myself
listening to some pieces frequently (3rd Symphony, Tallis Fantasia,
Job, Mass in G minor, An Oxford Elegy, Flos Campi) and others hardly
ever (7th Symphony, Hodie, On Wenlock Edge, English Folk Song Suite).
I'll rave about the former and try and say something nice about the
latter. That's really the best I can do.
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md
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response 15 of 31:
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Nov 2 19:41 UTC 2002 |
In a letter to the October "Journal of the RVW Society," Charles Long
offers a possibly revisionist version of the "cow looking over a gate"
quip:
Doubtless every single member of the RVW Society is wearily familiar
with the seemingly disparaging comment by Philip Heseltine (aka Peter
Warlock) about 'a cow looking over a gate' in relation to Vaughan
Williams's A Pastoral Symphony (June 2002 RVW Journal, page 6). But how
many are aware of the context in which that alleged remark was made?
The quotation comes, in fact, from Cecil Gray's 'Peter Warlock: A
Memoir of Philip Heseltine' published in 1934. In full, the relevant
passage runs as follows: 'after a performance of V.W.'s Pastoral
Symphony he [Heseltine] exclaimed, "A truly splendid work!" and then,
with a smile, "You know I've only one thing to say against this
composer's music: it is all just a little too much like a cow looking
over a gate. None the less he is a very great composer and the more I
hear the more I admire him."'
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md
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response 16 of 31:
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Nov 2 19:52 UTC 2002 |
The letters column also has this sad exchange:
Private Eye
The following appeared in Private Eye.
How much truth is in this?!
Robert Rush
Music & Musicians
Last week's Classical Brit Awards were the tacky shambles everyone has
come to expect as honoured 'guests' paid 250 a head to watch not
terribly distinguished instrumentalists mime their own records.
A fine new feature this year was to have well known authorities on
classical music like, er, Mohamed Fayed, introduce the turns. The
Albert Hall erupted into guffaws when Fayed told the audience that
Russell Watson was, in his fuggin' opinion, a superior voice to
Pavarotti.
But the evening sank to an all-time low with disgraceful humiliating
treatment meted out to Ursula Vaughan Williams, widow of the great
composer Ralph. Mrs Vaughan Williams is now in her 90s and frail, but
she remains an icon of the music world and the administration of the
Brit Awards had invited her to come on to the platform to receive the
prize for the Best Orchestral Disc, which went to a Chandos recording
of her husband's 2nd Symphony.
The disc's conductor, Richard Hickox, was abroad, so Ursula would be
accepting it on his behalf; and when the moment came she duly shuffled
(with great effort) up onto the stage - only to find herself marooned
in front of several thousand people, unacknowledged and ignored, while
the awards anchorwomen (who clearly had no idea who Mrs VW was, and
probably wasn t too sure about Mr VW either) pressed onto the next item.
It was horribly embarrassing and was aggravated when the stage staff
tried to push poor Ursula out of the public eye and down the backstage
steps: a manoeuvre her 92-year-old legs could not and would not
accomplish.
For the sake of the TV coverage the incident was patched over. But for
those who were there and saw it, it was yet another indictment on the
Brit Awards charge sheet.
Editor's reply to Robert Rush
Thank you for your letter of 7 June enclosing the article from Private
Eye about the Brit Awards. I was grateful to you for sending this to me
as I had not seen it. All the details in the article are correct. I
know this because it was I who accompanied Ursula up all those steps on
to the stage, only to have to turn round and come all the way back
again. This was deeply embarrassing for both of us. Ursula was more
forgiving than I afterwards, as she was presented with a bunch of
flowers by the organisers. The Brit Awards people were suitably
apologetic but it was a deeply humiliating experience.
Stephen Connock
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dbratman
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response 17 of 31:
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Nov 29 08:16 UTC 2002 |
I've been thinking about the numbering and naming of RVW's symphonies.
His earliest symphonies originally came out with no numbers, just
names, like this:
A Sea Symphony (1909)
A London Symphony (1913)
A Pastoral Symphony (1921)
I particularly like the unpretentiousness of the indefinite article on
each of these: so much less declamatory than THE Eroica or THE Great C
Major, and it fits with the unpretentiousness of the music.
Due partly to the titles, and partly to the relative lack of
traditional symphonic construction in these works, if VW had left it at
that, he might have gone down in musical history along with Felicien
David and Karl Goldmark, composers who wrote works they called
symphonies but who aren't generally thought of as symphonists.
But then he wrote a series of works with very tight, truly symphonic
construction, without numbers and also without titles:
Symphony in F Minor (1934)
Symphony in D Major (1943)
Symphony in E Minor (1947)
Then came:
Sinfonia Antartica (1952)
And then he wrote another symphony in D (minor, this time), and I guess
the possibility of confusion was what caused him to give it a number
and retroactively number its predecessors:
Symphony No. 8 in D Minor (1955)
Symphony No. 9 in E Minor (1957)
A lot of commposers in this situation might have left the Sea Symphony,
or even all of the first three, out of the numbering system (cf
Tchaikovsky's unnumbered Manfred Symphony among many others). But now
they're all known by the numbers as much as by anything else.
But it occurred to me, in a whimsical mood, to try to name the others.
The first three all had programs, in the sense that there was a clear
concrete image or set of extramusical images each was trying to
convey. It seemed, and still seems, to many people that Nos. 4-6 are
equally clear in their imagery. The composer denied any such messages,
but if he hadn't denied it, we might have had these entirely apt
titles, each based on the forward-looking imagery that many critics
have claimed for them:
A War Symphony (1934)
A Peace Symphony (1943)
A Nuclear Holocaust Symphony (1947)
Rename the next one in the same format:
An Antarctic Symphony (1952)
And we're stuck with the last two, which don't have the same kind of
extramusical connotations, but still have distinct characters. With
some diffidence, I'd name them:
A Comic Symphony (1955)
A Cryptic Symphony (1957)
I can't imagine doing such a thing for many other composers. RVW's
symphonies are more individually distinct from each other than the
symphonies of any other composer I can think of. He's the anti-
Bruckner.
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md
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response 18 of 31:
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Nov 29 11:29 UTC 2002 |
Nice! The 9th is said to have originated in music about the Salisbury
Plain, Stonehenge, and possibly Hardy's Tess of the d'Urbervilles. You
could call it "A Stonehenge Symphony" or "A Salisbury Symphony." (The
jacket illustration for Boult's second recording of the 9th was a
painting of Stonehenge.)
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md
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response 19 of 31:
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Feb 24 21:35 UTC 2003 |
I see the Spano/Atlanta recording of the Sea Symphony won some
Grammys. Has anybody here heard it?
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dbratman
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response 20 of 31:
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Feb 25 06:52 UTC 2003 |
I haven't, but it's nice to know I'm not the only person who checks the
classical Grammys. (The fact that I've never heard of most of the
winners in other categories affects my views as well.)
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coyote
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response 21 of 31:
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Mar 8 04:59 UTC 2003 |
Yes, I have actually heard that recording: I wrote a review of it for WCBN
when it came out. It's been a long time since I listened to it, though, so
I can't remember the details. I remember feeling that it was a very
passionate and competant recording. If anyone's interested I can dig up the
review. It's not very in depth, since it was just a brief description for
DJs scanning for music to play.
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md
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response 22 of 31:
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Mar 8 12:42 UTC 2003 |
I'd love to read the review.
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coyote
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response 23 of 31:
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Mar 25 05:42 UTC 2003 |
sorry for the delayed response: college life recently forced me to become
busy. I will retrieve the review sometime!
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coyote
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response 24 of 31:
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Mar 26 22:25 UTC 2003 |
Here is the review. It's nothing in depth, just a brief description so that
our DJs have an idea of what to expect if they're unfamiliar with the piece:
An excellent recording of a very majestic piece. This symphony is not as
pastoral as many of Vaughan Williams's most popular works, like The Lark
Ascending or the Tallis Fantasia, though there is a definite folk tune air
to many sections of the symphony. This is a regal piece full of power and
grandeur. The text is all by Walt Whitman (whose poetry is also featured in
RVW's Dona Nobis Pacem). Atlanta does a fine job in its performance, and the
Atlanta Chorus is excellent as always, living up to the legacy of the late
Robert Shaw. The balance between choir, orchestra and soloists is good.
The greatest fault with the recording, and it's hardly fixable, is that it
only hints at how magnificent a live performance of this work would be.
There are some absolutely gorgeous moments (about 15 min. into the finale
especially stood out). The last 5 min. of the symphony are trascendent,
sailing slowly off into the infinite, or ascending into heaven if you prefer.
If you're wary of the Telarc label because of their mediocre jazz releases,
don't let that scare you off: their classical releases are generally quite
reputable.
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