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Regimental Marches Of The British Army Vol 1 / Sharpe
Chandos
CD
$6.99
Nov 01, 1991
Complete Tracks:
1 The Life Guards 1:12
2 (a) Grand March from Aida, (b)The Royals 1:56
3 (a) Radetsky March, (b) Rusty Buckles 1:29
4 The 3rd. DG's 2:18
5 Light Cavalry 1:17
6 God Bless the Prince of Wales 0:54
7 Royal Sussex 0:53
8 The White Lancers 1:00
9 My Boy Willie 1:11
10 Duchess of Kent 1:13
11 Begone Dull Care 1:11
12 (a) The British Grenadiers, (b) Hielan Laddie, (c) St Patrick's Day, (d) The Rising Of The Lark, (e) Milanollo 3:34
13 Dumbarton's Drums 0:37
14 Blue Bonnet's Over the Border 0:47
15 The Thin red Line 2:38
16 The Soldiers of the Queen 1:12
17 (a) Rule Britannia, (b) Speed the Plough 1:16
18 (a) John Peel, (b) Corn Riggs 1:18
19 (a) Ca Ira, (b) The Yorkshire Lass 1:29
20 Bonnie English Rose 0:55
21 (a) Widecombe Fair, (b) We've Lived and Loved Together, (c) The Maid of Glenconnel 1:17
22 The Kinnegad Slashers 0:29
23 Farmers Boy 0:40
24 Young May Moon 0:37
25 Light Infantry 1:45
26 (a) Huntsman's Chorus, (b) Italian Song 1:12
27 Ride of the Valkyries 1:02
28 Fare Ye Well Inniskilling 2:11
29 Light of Foot 1:57
30 (a) The Bold King's Hussars, (b) Haste to the Wedding 1:10
31 Scarlet and Green 1:31
32 (a) Scotland for Ever, (b) Cameron Men 0:59
33 New Fusilier 1:45
34 (a) The Attack, (b) The Rose 1:11
35 The Wellesley 0:42
36 The Hampshire 1:27
37 (a) Come Lasses and Lads, (b) The Days We Went A Gipsying 1:03
38 Men of Harlech 0:55
39 Lutzow's Wild Hunt 0:48
40 Marche Des Parachutistes Belges 3:03
41 Trumpet Voluntary 2:34
1 The Life Guards 1:12
2 (a) Grand March from Aida, (b)The Royals 1:56
3 (a) Radetsky March, (b) Rusty Buckles 1:29
4 The 3rd. DG's 2:18
5 Light Cavalry 1:17
6 God Bless the Prince of Wales 0:54
7 Royal Sussex 0:53
8 The White Lancers 1:00
9 My Boy Willie 1:11
10 Duchess of Kent 1:13
11 Begone Dull Care 1:11
12 (a) The British Grenadiers, (b) Hielan Laddie, (c) St Patrick's Day, (d) The Rising Of The Lark, (e) Milanollo 3:34
13 Dumbarton's Drums 0:37
14 Blue Bonnet's Over the Border 0:47
15 The Thin red Line 2:38
16 The Soldiers of the Queen 1:12
17 (a) Rule Britannia, (b) Speed the Plough 1:16
18 (a) John Peel, (b) Corn Riggs 1:18
19 (a) Ca Ira, (b) The Yorkshire Lass 1:29
20 Bonnie English Rose 0:55
21 (a) Widecombe Fair, (b) We've Lived and Loved Together, (c) The Maid of Glenconnel 1:17
22 The Kinnegad Slashers 0:29
23 Farmers Boy 0:40
24 Young May Moon 0:37
25 Light Infantry 1:45
26 (a) Huntsman's Chorus, (b) Italian Song 1:12
27 Ride of the Valkyries 1:02
28 Fare Ye Well Inniskilling 2:11
29 Light of Foot 1:57
30 (a) The Bold King's Hussars, (b) Haste to the Wedding 1:10
31 Scarlet and Green 1:31
32 (a) Scotland for Ever, (b) Cameron Men 0:59
33 New Fusilier 1:45
34 (a) The Attack, (b) The Rose 1:11
35 The Wellesley 0:42
36 The Hampshire 1:27
37 (a) Come Lasses and Lads, (b) The Days We Went A Gipsying 1:03
38 Men of Harlech 0:55
39 Lutzow's Wild Hunt 0:48
40 Marche Des Parachutistes Belges 3:03
41 Trumpet Voluntary 2:34
The Handel Collection / Christophers, The Sixteen
Coro
CD
$74.99
Mar 01, 2010
Harry Christophers and The Sixteen have long been celebrated for their recordings and performances of Handel. Over the past three decades Harry Christophers and his award-winning ensemble have expanded their Handel repertoire to take in his greatest works. They have also made numerous recordings of Handel’s masterpieces and this twelve CD boxed set features a selection of some of their finest discs along with three remarkable solo albums featuring The Sixteen’s celebrated orchestra and acclaimed sopranos Sarah Connolly, Ann Murray and Elin Manahan Thomas.
Reviews of some of the original recordings that make up this set:
Coronation Anthems
By any standards this is a major release. Even in a year which is seeing, predictably, a glut of Handel releases, many of them extremely fine, this stands out. Harry Christophers and The Sixteen have enjoyed tremendous success at home and abroad with performances that have caught the imagination of a public outside (as well as inside) the traditional concert hall (and, to add a quick plug, they will be the subject of next month’s cover story). And here, perhaps more than in any other of their excellent recent issues, they show just why.
This is an opulently sung and played Handel disc but also a cunning one. Christophers has thought deeply about how to pace these works, how to marshall his resources for maximum but never superficial effect. The opening of Zadok the Priest, for instance, so familiar to us all, is here subdued, hushed and steady. When the melody opens out, The Sixteen add power and sheen, giving a sudden surge. It reminds one of the historian Charles Burney's observation of Handel (quoted by Christophers) that "when he did smile, it was his sire the sun, bursting out of a black cloud".
A tremendous issue. One to keep on the shelves and return to frequently.
-- Gramophone [4/2009]
A good modern recording of Samson is overdue. It is extraordinary that this fine work, composed within weeks of Messiah, and in Handel’s day possibly the most popular of all his oratorios, should be represented on the Gramophone Database only by one version recorded nearly 20 years ago and the unidiomatic and heavily cut Harnoncourt recording made in 1992. The new one does not obliterate memories of the old, which captures performances by a generation of British Handel interpreters at their finest (Dame Janet Baker, Helen Watts, Robert Tear, Benjamin Luxon and John Shirley-Quirk, as well as several admirable younger singers). But the new version gives a complete and straightforward account of the work, in tune with styles of Handel performance favoured today. Except in one particular: most conductors of period-instrument groups tend to favour faster tempos than those Harry Christophers generally chooses. This is a decidedly leisurely reading of the work; clearly Christophers has a sense of its magnitude, of the big issues with which it is involved and the nobility of its utterance, and he will not let himself be hurried. I think there are times, especially in the final act, where quicker tempos would have been helpful towards the maintenance of the oratorio’s momentum. Similarly, I wish that he had moved a shade more swiftly during the recitatives, and – or this may be the editors – from one number to the next, simply to sustain the dramatic impetus more strongly. I suspect, however, that Christophers is probably less concerned with the drama of the work than with its religious and philosophical aspects, and of course with presenting a direct and faithful realization of it: a perfectly legitimate approach and one that I am sure many will applaud.
He has an excellent cast. Thomas Randle is well equipped for Samson, a firm, strong tenor, with a hint of baritonal quality in his middle and lower registers. There is no bombast here. “Total eclipse” has much of pathos but no heroics. “Why does the God of Israel sleep” is done with some power, and the renunciation of Dalila (“Your charms to ruin”) is weightily sung; and there is plenty of fire in his rejection of the Philistine braggart Harapha but never at the cost of musical singing. It is not strongly characterized: an estimable performance but one that does not quite catch you by the throat. Samson’s father Manoah is sung with characteristic warmth and depth of tone and feeling by Michael George: listen for example to his “Thy glorious deeds” in Act 1. His bass contrasts aptly with the tauter, more focused one of Jonathan Best’s Harapha. Mark Padmore contributes some well-placed singing as both the Israelite and the Philistine man. Lynne Dawson does the same as the woman from both camps (and also the Virgin, echoing Dalila in one appealing number); she contributes a vigorous “Let the bright seraphim” (which here has a brief choral section at the end, surviving in Handel’s manuscript but probably never heard before). I enjoyed Lynda Russell’s soft, seductive Dalila, a modest role, confined to Act 2; but perhaps above all Catherine Wyn-Rogers excels as Micah, with beautifully intense singing and concentrated tone in all her music – her phrasing in “Then long eternity” and the heartfelt expression in “Return O God of hosts”, for example, are quite outstanding. Stylistically the performance is cautious, with only modest added ornamentation and brief cadenzas, but of course the requisite appoggiaturas in the recitative: if an error, it’s certainly in the right direction.
The Sixteen provide clear and spirited choral singing throughout, suitably jolly in the Philistine music, duly noble in that for the Hebrews. I was struck by the unusual clarity of texture in the choruses, attributable both to Christophers’s direction and insistence on firm tone and incisive articulation and to the work of the engineers. Altogether a welcome issue.'
-- Stanley Sadie, Gramophone [8/1997]
Esther
"There can be little question that the true heroes of the present recording are Christophers, who conducts the work with a fervent conviction that makes the excellent Hogwood look at times a little prosaic, and his quite magnificent chorus, who sing throughout with an incisive precision, superb articulation, and clarity of diction that is often electrifying. Michael Chance sings a wonderful Priest (his intensely moving “O Jordan, Jordan” is one of the highlights of the set) that eclipses that of Drew Minter, and Nancy Argenta provides a poignant reminder of the singer she was with a radiantly joyful “Praise the Lord.” Haman, the one character of real interest (there are surely pre-echoes of Saul in his downfall), is powerfully sung by Michael George...this is a quite splendid performance of a work more often mentioned by historians than heard, a fate it certainly does not deserve."
-- Brian Robins, Fanfare
Delirio Amoroso
"Like most Coro releases to date, this is a reissue of a disc originally put out by the now-defunct Collins Classics label. The present disc dispenses with services of The Sixteen to feature three of the Italian cantatas composed during Handel’s prodigious Italian sojourn (1706–1710), all of those here dating from the first half of 1707. The most conventional in form is Clori, mia bella, a pastoral in which—over the course of four brief da capo arias alternating with secco recitative—a young man experiences the varying emotions attached to the uncertainties of love. The spirit of the piece is none too serious, Handel’s music utterly delicious. Both the other cantatas are more ambitiously planned, providing ample evidence of the young composer’s often-innovative approach to the form. Armida abbandonata, scored for just two violins and continuo, but here done with a fuller body of strings, has as its subject the abandonment of the sorceress Armida by the Christian knight Rinaldo as related in Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata, a topic to which Handel was to return in his first London opera, Rinaldo. It opens with a remarkable accompanied recitative in which the singer is accompanied by two violins senza basso, then proceeds to a heartbroken aria of ravishing beauty, and a highly dramatic accompanied dramatic recitative in which the scorned Armida gives vent to her conflicting emotions.
The semidramatic Delirio amoroso is designed on an even grander scale, the vocal writing being more virtuosic, with each of its arias having an obbligato part. The text by Handel’s Roman patron Cardinal Benedetto Pamphili also taps into the fashionable Arcadian theme. In her delirium, the scorned and distraught Chloris follows her unfaithful dead lover to Hades, only to be rejected once more. Out of compassionate love, she leads him to Elysium, where a beautiful Entrée prefigures the idea of Gluck’s blessed spirits.
The much admired, indeed much loved, Irish mezzo Ann Murray makes no pretence of being an early-music singer, but she brings considerable style to these splendid examples of Handel’s burgeoning flair and invention. The voice itself sounds lovely, and it is produced with an enviable ease, floating and phrasing Handel’s wonderful melodies with real musicality. Equally as important are Murray’s strong powers of communication and feeling for text."
-- Brian Robins, Fanfare
Heroes and Heroines / Sarah Connolly
"And the mezzo lode continues to run as rich and high-quality as ever, supplying the world with yet another first-rate singer. Of course, Sarah Connolly hasn't exactly come out of nowhere: she's been a member of The Sixteen Choir and has made acclaimed appearances for the past several years in opera roles and concerts throughout the U.S. and Europe. This collaboration with her former Sixteen conductor, Harry Christophers, reveals the impressive maturity and technique of Connolly along with Christophers' solid command of Handelian drama. The repertoire may not be the most common collection of arias (only one is very familiar), but the selection is no less engaging for that; the idea of this recital was to "depict not only the close links between opera and oratorio in Handel's works but also equate the position of hero and heroine." Interesting programming concept aside, what you hear is top-notch Handel singing in some very characterful and artistically challenging pieces.>
From Connolly's first notes, "Sta nell' Ircana" from Alcina, we have no doubt about this voice's considerable dramatic capabilities, and we can't help but be impressed with both her range (free of discernible register breaks) and ease of delivery from top to bottom. By the aria's end she's confirmed the power of her lowest register notes and ability to fully embody and project her character. I'm not wild about her "ha-ha-ha-ha-ha" articulation in one of the aria's repeated figures, but since she doesn't exhibit this annoying mannerism anywhere else, I assume it's an intended "effect" (imitating the orchestral figures, perhaps?) and only mention it because it's so striking and uncharacteristic of her singing in general.
Connolly is just as convincing and her voice is as lovely in the slower arias, including "Mi lusingha il dolce affetto" from Alcina (all seven minutes of it!). Her breath control is amazing and she completely enthralls with her attractive, sensible ornaments. And she's lucky to have such a partner in Christophers and his attentive orchestra: listen as he takes Connolly's lead from the intro to Ariodante's tender "Scherza infida" and hands her a perfectly set atmosphere of sorrow and tragic determination. This is the highlight of the CD, Connolly's subtle vocal shading, expressive phrasing, and vibrant tone varying from gently floating to more emphatically projected--the definition of captivating.
Other listeners may cite the following "Dopo notte", a brisk, high-energy aria from the same opera, as the most impressive of Connolly's performances, and it would be hard to argue in light of the singer's command of the reams of rapid runs and wildly leaping lines while maintaining the flow and emotional intensity of this fiendishly difficult seven minutes of music. And then there's the beloved and oft-performed "Verdi prati", which Connolly renders as sensitively and with as sumptuous a tone and smoothly-spun legato as we could hope for. The final "Where shall I fly?" from Hercules is a magnificent display of virtuoso vocalism, although I still prefer Stephanie Blythe's more fluid, richer-voiced rendition--purely a matter of personal taste. And again, much credit must go to Christophers' smart orchestral leadership and to the crisply pointed accents, finely honed rhythms, and warm sound of the Symphony of Harmony and Invention, recorded to the highest modern standard."
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com [10/11/2004]
Reviews of some of the original recordings that make up this set:
Coronation Anthems
By any standards this is a major release. Even in a year which is seeing, predictably, a glut of Handel releases, many of them extremely fine, this stands out. Harry Christophers and The Sixteen have enjoyed tremendous success at home and abroad with performances that have caught the imagination of a public outside (as well as inside) the traditional concert hall (and, to add a quick plug, they will be the subject of next month’s cover story). And here, perhaps more than in any other of their excellent recent issues, they show just why.
This is an opulently sung and played Handel disc but also a cunning one. Christophers has thought deeply about how to pace these works, how to marshall his resources for maximum but never superficial effect. The opening of Zadok the Priest, for instance, so familiar to us all, is here subdued, hushed and steady. When the melody opens out, The Sixteen add power and sheen, giving a sudden surge. It reminds one of the historian Charles Burney's observation of Handel (quoted by Christophers) that "when he did smile, it was his sire the sun, bursting out of a black cloud".
A tremendous issue. One to keep on the shelves and return to frequently.
-- Gramophone [4/2009]
A good modern recording of Samson is overdue. It is extraordinary that this fine work, composed within weeks of Messiah, and in Handel’s day possibly the most popular of all his oratorios, should be represented on the Gramophone Database only by one version recorded nearly 20 years ago and the unidiomatic and heavily cut Harnoncourt recording made in 1992. The new one does not obliterate memories of the old, which captures performances by a generation of British Handel interpreters at their finest (Dame Janet Baker, Helen Watts, Robert Tear, Benjamin Luxon and John Shirley-Quirk, as well as several admirable younger singers). But the new version gives a complete and straightforward account of the work, in tune with styles of Handel performance favoured today. Except in one particular: most conductors of period-instrument groups tend to favour faster tempos than those Harry Christophers generally chooses. This is a decidedly leisurely reading of the work; clearly Christophers has a sense of its magnitude, of the big issues with which it is involved and the nobility of its utterance, and he will not let himself be hurried. I think there are times, especially in the final act, where quicker tempos would have been helpful towards the maintenance of the oratorio’s momentum. Similarly, I wish that he had moved a shade more swiftly during the recitatives, and – or this may be the editors – from one number to the next, simply to sustain the dramatic impetus more strongly. I suspect, however, that Christophers is probably less concerned with the drama of the work than with its religious and philosophical aspects, and of course with presenting a direct and faithful realization of it: a perfectly legitimate approach and one that I am sure many will applaud.
He has an excellent cast. Thomas Randle is well equipped for Samson, a firm, strong tenor, with a hint of baritonal quality in his middle and lower registers. There is no bombast here. “Total eclipse” has much of pathos but no heroics. “Why does the God of Israel sleep” is done with some power, and the renunciation of Dalila (“Your charms to ruin”) is weightily sung; and there is plenty of fire in his rejection of the Philistine braggart Harapha but never at the cost of musical singing. It is not strongly characterized: an estimable performance but one that does not quite catch you by the throat. Samson’s father Manoah is sung with characteristic warmth and depth of tone and feeling by Michael George: listen for example to his “Thy glorious deeds” in Act 1. His bass contrasts aptly with the tauter, more focused one of Jonathan Best’s Harapha. Mark Padmore contributes some well-placed singing as both the Israelite and the Philistine man. Lynne Dawson does the same as the woman from both camps (and also the Virgin, echoing Dalila in one appealing number); she contributes a vigorous “Let the bright seraphim” (which here has a brief choral section at the end, surviving in Handel’s manuscript but probably never heard before). I enjoyed Lynda Russell’s soft, seductive Dalila, a modest role, confined to Act 2; but perhaps above all Catherine Wyn-Rogers excels as Micah, with beautifully intense singing and concentrated tone in all her music – her phrasing in “Then long eternity” and the heartfelt expression in “Return O God of hosts”, for example, are quite outstanding. Stylistically the performance is cautious, with only modest added ornamentation and brief cadenzas, but of course the requisite appoggiaturas in the recitative: if an error, it’s certainly in the right direction.
The Sixteen provide clear and spirited choral singing throughout, suitably jolly in the Philistine music, duly noble in that for the Hebrews. I was struck by the unusual clarity of texture in the choruses, attributable both to Christophers’s direction and insistence on firm tone and incisive articulation and to the work of the engineers. Altogether a welcome issue.'
-- Stanley Sadie, Gramophone [8/1997]
Esther
"There can be little question that the true heroes of the present recording are Christophers, who conducts the work with a fervent conviction that makes the excellent Hogwood look at times a little prosaic, and his quite magnificent chorus, who sing throughout with an incisive precision, superb articulation, and clarity of diction that is often electrifying. Michael Chance sings a wonderful Priest (his intensely moving “O Jordan, Jordan” is one of the highlights of the set) that eclipses that of Drew Minter, and Nancy Argenta provides a poignant reminder of the singer she was with a radiantly joyful “Praise the Lord.” Haman, the one character of real interest (there are surely pre-echoes of Saul in his downfall), is powerfully sung by Michael George...this is a quite splendid performance of a work more often mentioned by historians than heard, a fate it certainly does not deserve."
-- Brian Robins, Fanfare
Delirio Amoroso
"Like most Coro releases to date, this is a reissue of a disc originally put out by the now-defunct Collins Classics label. The present disc dispenses with services of The Sixteen to feature three of the Italian cantatas composed during Handel’s prodigious Italian sojourn (1706–1710), all of those here dating from the first half of 1707. The most conventional in form is Clori, mia bella, a pastoral in which—over the course of four brief da capo arias alternating with secco recitative—a young man experiences the varying emotions attached to the uncertainties of love. The spirit of the piece is none too serious, Handel’s music utterly delicious. Both the other cantatas are more ambitiously planned, providing ample evidence of the young composer’s often-innovative approach to the form. Armida abbandonata, scored for just two violins and continuo, but here done with a fuller body of strings, has as its subject the abandonment of the sorceress Armida by the Christian knight Rinaldo as related in Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata, a topic to which Handel was to return in his first London opera, Rinaldo. It opens with a remarkable accompanied recitative in which the singer is accompanied by two violins senza basso, then proceeds to a heartbroken aria of ravishing beauty, and a highly dramatic accompanied dramatic recitative in which the scorned Armida gives vent to her conflicting emotions.
The semidramatic Delirio amoroso is designed on an even grander scale, the vocal writing being more virtuosic, with each of its arias having an obbligato part. The text by Handel’s Roman patron Cardinal Benedetto Pamphili also taps into the fashionable Arcadian theme. In her delirium, the scorned and distraught Chloris follows her unfaithful dead lover to Hades, only to be rejected once more. Out of compassionate love, she leads him to Elysium, where a beautiful Entrée prefigures the idea of Gluck’s blessed spirits.
The much admired, indeed much loved, Irish mezzo Ann Murray makes no pretence of being an early-music singer, but she brings considerable style to these splendid examples of Handel’s burgeoning flair and invention. The voice itself sounds lovely, and it is produced with an enviable ease, floating and phrasing Handel’s wonderful melodies with real musicality. Equally as important are Murray’s strong powers of communication and feeling for text."
-- Brian Robins, Fanfare
Heroes and Heroines / Sarah Connolly
"And the mezzo lode continues to run as rich and high-quality as ever, supplying the world with yet another first-rate singer. Of course, Sarah Connolly hasn't exactly come out of nowhere: she's been a member of The Sixteen Choir and has made acclaimed appearances for the past several years in opera roles and concerts throughout the U.S. and Europe. This collaboration with her former Sixteen conductor, Harry Christophers, reveals the impressive maturity and technique of Connolly along with Christophers' solid command of Handelian drama. The repertoire may not be the most common collection of arias (only one is very familiar), but the selection is no less engaging for that; the idea of this recital was to "depict not only the close links between opera and oratorio in Handel's works but also equate the position of hero and heroine." Interesting programming concept aside, what you hear is top-notch Handel singing in some very characterful and artistically challenging pieces.>
From Connolly's first notes, "Sta nell' Ircana" from Alcina, we have no doubt about this voice's considerable dramatic capabilities, and we can't help but be impressed with both her range (free of discernible register breaks) and ease of delivery from top to bottom. By the aria's end she's confirmed the power of her lowest register notes and ability to fully embody and project her character. I'm not wild about her "ha-ha-ha-ha-ha" articulation in one of the aria's repeated figures, but since she doesn't exhibit this annoying mannerism anywhere else, I assume it's an intended "effect" (imitating the orchestral figures, perhaps?) and only mention it because it's so striking and uncharacteristic of her singing in general.
Connolly is just as convincing and her voice is as lovely in the slower arias, including "Mi lusingha il dolce affetto" from Alcina (all seven minutes of it!). Her breath control is amazing and she completely enthralls with her attractive, sensible ornaments. And she's lucky to have such a partner in Christophers and his attentive orchestra: listen as he takes Connolly's lead from the intro to Ariodante's tender "Scherza infida" and hands her a perfectly set atmosphere of sorrow and tragic determination. This is the highlight of the CD, Connolly's subtle vocal shading, expressive phrasing, and vibrant tone varying from gently floating to more emphatically projected--the definition of captivating.
Other listeners may cite the following "Dopo notte", a brisk, high-energy aria from the same opera, as the most impressive of Connolly's performances, and it would be hard to argue in light of the singer's command of the reams of rapid runs and wildly leaping lines while maintaining the flow and emotional intensity of this fiendishly difficult seven minutes of music. And then there's the beloved and oft-performed "Verdi prati", which Connolly renders as sensitively and with as sumptuous a tone and smoothly-spun legato as we could hope for. The final "Where shall I fly?" from Hercules is a magnificent display of virtuoso vocalism, although I still prefer Stephanie Blythe's more fluid, richer-voiced rendition--purely a matter of personal taste. And again, much credit must go to Christophers' smart orchestral leadership and to the crisply pointed accents, finely honed rhythms, and warm sound of the Symphony of Harmony and Invention, recorded to the highest modern standard."
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com [10/11/2004]
Elgar: The Crown Of India / Davis, BBC Philharmonic
Chandos
CD
$21.99
Nov 17, 2009
At last a version of this legendary work for pleasure, analysis and study.
I am normally something of a 'completist' when it comes to music. And that includes works that may not necessarily reflect a composer at his or her best. If Bloggs wrote 101 songs then, if at all possible there should be at least one fair recording made of each – if for no other reason than to provide context. The best can then be compared to the not so good and can be seen to shine. Ivor Gurney may be an exception to this rule: there is much debate about his ‘unplayable and un-publishable’ songs and chamber works yet many folk want to give these an airing - even if it means damaging the composer’s reputation. Imagine a neophyte finds a CD of Bloggs’s Unknown Songs. Further, imagine that they are not very good. Could this put our friend off not only Bloggs but also English lieder? Perhaps they would be best left un-played and unrecorded? Other issues arise, such as the composer’s intentions. Did they regard these pieces as worthy? Or did they suppress them? This argument has surfaced with the repristination of the early music - which had been believed destroyed - by William Alwyn and suppressed works by RVW. I hasten to add that I am grateful for these CDs and have especially enjoyed hearing the former’s tone-poem Blackdown and the latter’s Heroic Elegy.
Let us turn to The Crown of India. Most Elgar enthusiasts will know the Suite derived from this ‘Imperial Masque’. It has been issued in a number of recordings over the years, including a fine version from Chandos with the Scottish National Orchestra conducted by Sir Alexander Gibson. The March of the Moguls has also been a popular extract. However, up until this present CD, it has not been possible to hear the complete work in its original format. The question is: is this a worthwhile project?
Firstly let’s dispose of the anti-Imperial argument. There are two (at least) approaches to history. One is, I guess relative and the other is absolute. Some people will refuse to give any credence to an historical personage if they were involved in any activity that is now regarded as politically incorrect, even if it was not always regarded in this light. Men like Cecil Rhodes and Clive of India are despised or at best belittled by ‘liberal’ society. Yet, surely it should be possible to admire the achievement of a woman or a man who did much good work with their involvement in world affairs. Obviously parts of their careers can be justly criticised, but the person themselves cannot be separated from their milieu. Few people in the world are truly forward-thinking: most of us, both living and dead are and were children of our time.
I can hear people condemning this present work as jingoistic - as imperial nonsense. It is a work that sets the British Empire up against the people of India. As such it could be argued that it should be consigned to the dustbin of musical history. We no longer think in terms of Britain Ruling the Waves (except at The Last Night) nor do we necessarily regard the British way of life as being something that must be imposed on other cultures. Things, perhaps, work the other way round these days. So can we justify listening to and perhaps even enjoying this Masque? Only if we can enter the historical setting in our mind’s ear without too many feelings of guilt! However, we ought to judge this work - or any work - on its musical and literary merits rather than its political and cultural resonances down through the years.
The Crown of India is a masque that was written and performed in 1912 to celebrate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary to Delhi. This was part of a ‘durbar’ in that city as part of the celebrations for their coronation as the Emperor and Empress of India. The masque was commissioned by a certain Oswald Stoll and combined a libretto by Henry Hamilton and the music of Edward Elgar. The work was given its first performance at the Coliseum Theatre in London on 11 March 1912. The masque ran for two performances a day for two weeks. At that time the Coliseum was a variety theatre rather than the opera house we know today. Ironically, Diana McVeagh points out that Elgar’s music was performed alongside a programme that included “gymnastic equilibrists, a ventriloquist, a Russian harpist, a scene from Barrie’s The Twelve Pound Look, continental mimes, with the Tannhauser Overture as interval music.” It must have been quite an evening!
The work was conceived in two tableaux, separated by an interlude: it is made up of a dozen pieces or scenes. The first tableau is entitled ‘The Cities of India’ and the second ‘Ave Imperator’. The format called for the personification of ‘India’ and the cities of Agra, Delhi, Calcutta and Benares and also England (not the United Kingdom) by St. George. The chorus consisted of a cast of thousands including Mogul Emperors, Princes, Guards, Executioners, Courtiers, Fan-Bearers, Ladies Attendant Syce (grooms), Litter Bearers, Heralds, and Trumpeters. The work is scored for contralto, bass, chorus and orchestra. However it was not conceived for a symphony orchestra as such but a typical theatre ‘pit’ band of the era although it was considerably ‘augmented’.
It will be helpful to note the tableaux in a slightly simplified list:-
1(a) - Introduction, and (b) Sacred Measure
2 - Dance of the Nautch Girls
2(a) – India greets her cities
3 - Hail, Immemorial Ind! (The Homage of Ind)
4 - March of the Mogul Emperors
5 - Entrance of John Company
6 - Rule of England (St. George’s Song)
7 - Interlude
8 - Warriors' Dance
9 - Cities of India
10 - Crown of India March
11 - Crowning of Delhi
12 - Ave Imperator
In the first tableau the cities of Calcutta and Delhi, personified by the two speakers, plead to be made India’s capital city. In the second, the Emperor rather diplomatically resolves the contention. He states that “… Delhi to be his capital names, And of his Empire, further makes decree, Calcutta shall the premier city be”.
Percy Young has noted that in the early months of 1912 Elgar had moved into Severn House and was conscious “not only of its nobility but also its expense.” So it is fair to say that the commission came at the right time and contributed to the finances.
It is important not to be too critical about the text of the masque. It is easy to write off Henry Hamilton’s libretto as ‘doggerel’ but it was very much a period piece: it is what would have been expected at the time. However, the composer was not overly impressed with the political tone of the words but was able to see the possibilities it presented for producing a colourful score. Elgar was able to cut a number of the worst parts of the text and began composing the music and falling back on mining some earlier works and sketches as he did so. Music rescued from The Sanguine Fan, Falstaff and the Apostles has been identified.
So what are we to make, musically at least, of this massive period piece? Percy Young in his 1955 study of the composer has captured its mood. He writes that “despite the skilful spread of motive, there is no genuine consistency in The Crown of India, but vivid flashes of imaginative treatment, combined with instances of tenderness and charm.” It is a judgement that holds well today.
The make-weights on the second CD are useful additions to the catalogue of Elgar’s imperial, or less pejoratively, his ceremonial music. The Imperial March Op.32 was composed in 1896-7 and was the composer’s first essay in this genre. It was commissioned by Novellos to mark the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1897. At the same time Elgar also received a commission to write The Banner of St George. The Imperial March received its first performance at a Crystal Place concert on 19 April of the same year. Interestingly, this piece is more in the style of what Eric Coates was to compose some quarter of a century later. There is no great pretence at writing profound music – instead it has a tune that has “a spring in its step, and a sunny dance-like trio”. Elgar was not the first to compose this kind of March. Parry had written a fine example in his incidental music for Hypatia. It was however his first essay in what was to become a long line of ceremonial marches. Diana McVeagh notes that it was the Imperial March that “first carried his name throughout the land”.
The Coronation March Op. 65 is a totally different piece. Gone is the light-heartedness of the earlier piece, to be replaced by music that has a depth of emotion and variety of mood that is rare in a work of its genre. The March was a ‘laureate’ work commissioned for the Coronation of King George V in 1911. It has been well said that the composer is mourning the death of the old King rather than cheering the accession of the new. In many ways it has the air of a funeral march rather than a rumbustious paean of welcome for the monarch. I have no doubt that this is one of the best marches that Elgar wrote – or anyone else for that matter. One strange fact associated with this piece is the fact the composer had already written the main opening theme for a projected ballet based on the tales of Rabelais! It is assumed that he abandoned this project because of Victorian prudery and pressure from his wife Alice.
I have always had a soft spot for the Empire March even if it is not the best of the bunch. This work was composed in 1924 to inaugurate the British Empire Exhibition held at Wembley in that year. It is interesting, if somewhat poignant, that this is one of the very few works to be completed after the death of Alice in 1920. The Elgar Society webpage suggests that “it is but a pale shadow of his earlier marches, lacking the distinctiveness and decisiveness of melody which so characterised his more successful marches …” Yet there is an interest in these pages and a certain backward glance to happier times.
I am not quite sure why Chandos have chosen to give two versions of The Crown of India – one with the spoken text and one without. I would have thought that a single version would have sufficed for what is a very uneven work. However, if it had been a single CD, there would have been no room for the three Marches. Furthermore, I doubt if this work will receive many concert performances, in spite of the fact that the Elgar Society have just published the full score. I imagine that if it is performed it will be in the edited version.
All this being said, and I have not really made my mind up about this piece yet, this CD is a must for all Elgar cognoscenti even if they are, like me, not over-enthusiastic about the main event. I enjoyed some of this music. I certainly enjoyed the fine performances by Sir Andrew Davis, the soloists and speakers and the BBC Philharmonic. I appreciate the amount of work that Anthony Payne has invested in this project to realise the score. But was it worth it? I will probably not listen to this work again but I will occasionally play The Crown of India Suite. However, it is important to know that a version of this legendary work is available for pleasure, analysis and study. The amount of effort that has been required to realise this masque may seem to some a little excessive and perhaps misdirected.
Perhaps the project can best be summed up in two quotations from the sleeve-notes. The first is from Nalini Ghuman: “( The Crown of India is) a fascinating work of imperialism: historically illuminating and often musically rich, it is nevertheless a profoundly embarrassing piece - a significant contribution to the orientalised India of the English imagination.” And the second is written by Andrew Neill. He concludes his essay by suggesting that ‘although Elgar’s subject is now out of fashion we can hear how, despite its tendentious nature and poor quality, Elgar rises above Hamilton’s text with colourful music of great variety … it may not be India, but it is Elgar, who did this sort of thing better than anyone else.”
-- John France, MusicWeb International
I am normally something of a 'completist' when it comes to music. And that includes works that may not necessarily reflect a composer at his or her best. If Bloggs wrote 101 songs then, if at all possible there should be at least one fair recording made of each – if for no other reason than to provide context. The best can then be compared to the not so good and can be seen to shine. Ivor Gurney may be an exception to this rule: there is much debate about his ‘unplayable and un-publishable’ songs and chamber works yet many folk want to give these an airing - even if it means damaging the composer’s reputation. Imagine a neophyte finds a CD of Bloggs’s Unknown Songs. Further, imagine that they are not very good. Could this put our friend off not only Bloggs but also English lieder? Perhaps they would be best left un-played and unrecorded? Other issues arise, such as the composer’s intentions. Did they regard these pieces as worthy? Or did they suppress them? This argument has surfaced with the repristination of the early music - which had been believed destroyed - by William Alwyn and suppressed works by RVW. I hasten to add that I am grateful for these CDs and have especially enjoyed hearing the former’s tone-poem Blackdown and the latter’s Heroic Elegy.
Let us turn to The Crown of India. Most Elgar enthusiasts will know the Suite derived from this ‘Imperial Masque’. It has been issued in a number of recordings over the years, including a fine version from Chandos with the Scottish National Orchestra conducted by Sir Alexander Gibson. The March of the Moguls has also been a popular extract. However, up until this present CD, it has not been possible to hear the complete work in its original format. The question is: is this a worthwhile project?
Firstly let’s dispose of the anti-Imperial argument. There are two (at least) approaches to history. One is, I guess relative and the other is absolute. Some people will refuse to give any credence to an historical personage if they were involved in any activity that is now regarded as politically incorrect, even if it was not always regarded in this light. Men like Cecil Rhodes and Clive of India are despised or at best belittled by ‘liberal’ society. Yet, surely it should be possible to admire the achievement of a woman or a man who did much good work with their involvement in world affairs. Obviously parts of their careers can be justly criticised, but the person themselves cannot be separated from their milieu. Few people in the world are truly forward-thinking: most of us, both living and dead are and were children of our time.
I can hear people condemning this present work as jingoistic - as imperial nonsense. It is a work that sets the British Empire up against the people of India. As such it could be argued that it should be consigned to the dustbin of musical history. We no longer think in terms of Britain Ruling the Waves (except at The Last Night) nor do we necessarily regard the British way of life as being something that must be imposed on other cultures. Things, perhaps, work the other way round these days. So can we justify listening to and perhaps even enjoying this Masque? Only if we can enter the historical setting in our mind’s ear without too many feelings of guilt! However, we ought to judge this work - or any work - on its musical and literary merits rather than its political and cultural resonances down through the years.
The Crown of India is a masque that was written and performed in 1912 to celebrate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary to Delhi. This was part of a ‘durbar’ in that city as part of the celebrations for their coronation as the Emperor and Empress of India. The masque was commissioned by a certain Oswald Stoll and combined a libretto by Henry Hamilton and the music of Edward Elgar. The work was given its first performance at the Coliseum Theatre in London on 11 March 1912. The masque ran for two performances a day for two weeks. At that time the Coliseum was a variety theatre rather than the opera house we know today. Ironically, Diana McVeagh points out that Elgar’s music was performed alongside a programme that included “gymnastic equilibrists, a ventriloquist, a Russian harpist, a scene from Barrie’s The Twelve Pound Look, continental mimes, with the Tannhauser Overture as interval music.” It must have been quite an evening!
The work was conceived in two tableaux, separated by an interlude: it is made up of a dozen pieces or scenes. The first tableau is entitled ‘The Cities of India’ and the second ‘Ave Imperator’. The format called for the personification of ‘India’ and the cities of Agra, Delhi, Calcutta and Benares and also England (not the United Kingdom) by St. George. The chorus consisted of a cast of thousands including Mogul Emperors, Princes, Guards, Executioners, Courtiers, Fan-Bearers, Ladies Attendant Syce (grooms), Litter Bearers, Heralds, and Trumpeters. The work is scored for contralto, bass, chorus and orchestra. However it was not conceived for a symphony orchestra as such but a typical theatre ‘pit’ band of the era although it was considerably ‘augmented’.
It will be helpful to note the tableaux in a slightly simplified list:-
1(a) - Introduction, and (b) Sacred Measure
2 - Dance of the Nautch Girls
2(a) – India greets her cities
3 - Hail, Immemorial Ind! (The Homage of Ind)
4 - March of the Mogul Emperors
5 - Entrance of John Company
6 - Rule of England (St. George’s Song)
7 - Interlude
8 - Warriors' Dance
9 - Cities of India
10 - Crown of India March
11 - Crowning of Delhi
12 - Ave Imperator
In the first tableau the cities of Calcutta and Delhi, personified by the two speakers, plead to be made India’s capital city. In the second, the Emperor rather diplomatically resolves the contention. He states that “… Delhi to be his capital names, And of his Empire, further makes decree, Calcutta shall the premier city be”.
Percy Young has noted that in the early months of 1912 Elgar had moved into Severn House and was conscious “not only of its nobility but also its expense.” So it is fair to say that the commission came at the right time and contributed to the finances.
It is important not to be too critical about the text of the masque. It is easy to write off Henry Hamilton’s libretto as ‘doggerel’ but it was very much a period piece: it is what would have been expected at the time. However, the composer was not overly impressed with the political tone of the words but was able to see the possibilities it presented for producing a colourful score. Elgar was able to cut a number of the worst parts of the text and began composing the music and falling back on mining some earlier works and sketches as he did so. Music rescued from The Sanguine Fan, Falstaff and the Apostles has been identified.
So what are we to make, musically at least, of this massive period piece? Percy Young in his 1955 study of the composer has captured its mood. He writes that “despite the skilful spread of motive, there is no genuine consistency in The Crown of India, but vivid flashes of imaginative treatment, combined with instances of tenderness and charm.” It is a judgement that holds well today.
The make-weights on the second CD are useful additions to the catalogue of Elgar’s imperial, or less pejoratively, his ceremonial music. The Imperial March Op.32 was composed in 1896-7 and was the composer’s first essay in this genre. It was commissioned by Novellos to mark the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1897. At the same time Elgar also received a commission to write The Banner of St George. The Imperial March received its first performance at a Crystal Place concert on 19 April of the same year. Interestingly, this piece is more in the style of what Eric Coates was to compose some quarter of a century later. There is no great pretence at writing profound music – instead it has a tune that has “a spring in its step, and a sunny dance-like trio”. Elgar was not the first to compose this kind of March. Parry had written a fine example in his incidental music for Hypatia. It was however his first essay in what was to become a long line of ceremonial marches. Diana McVeagh notes that it was the Imperial March that “first carried his name throughout the land”.
The Coronation March Op. 65 is a totally different piece. Gone is the light-heartedness of the earlier piece, to be replaced by music that has a depth of emotion and variety of mood that is rare in a work of its genre. The March was a ‘laureate’ work commissioned for the Coronation of King George V in 1911. It has been well said that the composer is mourning the death of the old King rather than cheering the accession of the new. In many ways it has the air of a funeral march rather than a rumbustious paean of welcome for the monarch. I have no doubt that this is one of the best marches that Elgar wrote – or anyone else for that matter. One strange fact associated with this piece is the fact the composer had already written the main opening theme for a projected ballet based on the tales of Rabelais! It is assumed that he abandoned this project because of Victorian prudery and pressure from his wife Alice.
I have always had a soft spot for the Empire March even if it is not the best of the bunch. This work was composed in 1924 to inaugurate the British Empire Exhibition held at Wembley in that year. It is interesting, if somewhat poignant, that this is one of the very few works to be completed after the death of Alice in 1920. The Elgar Society webpage suggests that “it is but a pale shadow of his earlier marches, lacking the distinctiveness and decisiveness of melody which so characterised his more successful marches …” Yet there is an interest in these pages and a certain backward glance to happier times.
I am not quite sure why Chandos have chosen to give two versions of The Crown of India – one with the spoken text and one without. I would have thought that a single version would have sufficed for what is a very uneven work. However, if it had been a single CD, there would have been no room for the three Marches. Furthermore, I doubt if this work will receive many concert performances, in spite of the fact that the Elgar Society have just published the full score. I imagine that if it is performed it will be in the edited version.
All this being said, and I have not really made my mind up about this piece yet, this CD is a must for all Elgar cognoscenti even if they are, like me, not over-enthusiastic about the main event. I enjoyed some of this music. I certainly enjoyed the fine performances by Sir Andrew Davis, the soloists and speakers and the BBC Philharmonic. I appreciate the amount of work that Anthony Payne has invested in this project to realise the score. But was it worth it? I will probably not listen to this work again but I will occasionally play The Crown of India Suite. However, it is important to know that a version of this legendary work is available for pleasure, analysis and study. The amount of effort that has been required to realise this masque may seem to some a little excessive and perhaps misdirected.
Perhaps the project can best be summed up in two quotations from the sleeve-notes. The first is from Nalini Ghuman: “( The Crown of India is) a fascinating work of imperialism: historically illuminating and often musically rich, it is nevertheless a profoundly embarrassing piece - a significant contribution to the orientalised India of the English imagination.” And the second is written by Andrew Neill. He concludes his essay by suggesting that ‘although Elgar’s subject is now out of fashion we can hear how, despite its tendentious nature and poor quality, Elgar rises above Hamilton’s text with colourful music of great variety … it may not be India, but it is Elgar, who did this sort of thing better than anyone else.”
-- John France, MusicWeb International
