Early orchestral works of Vaughan Williams recovered.
Kuykendall, James Brooks
Ralph Vaughan Williams. Bucolic Suite. Study score. Edited by
Julian Rushton. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. [Pref., p. iv-v;
source, p. vi; textual notes, p. vii-ix; orchestration, p. [x]; score,
p. 1-133. ISBN 978-0-19-337955-8. 20.95[pounds sterling].]
Ralph Vaughan Williams. Serenade in A Minor (1898). Study score.
Edited by Julian Rushton. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. [Pref.,
p. iv-v; source, p. vi; textual notes, p. vii-viii; orchestration, p.
[x]; score, p. 1-132. ISBN 978-0-19-337956-5. 20.95[pounds sterling].]
Ralph Vaughan Williams. Fantasia for Piano and Orchestra. Study
score. Edited by Graham Parlett. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.
[Pref., p. iv; manuscript, p. v; editorial method, p. v; textual notes,
p. vi-vii; orchestration, p. [viii]; score, p. 1-87. ISBN
978-0-19-338825-3. 15.50[pounds sterling].]
Ralph Vaughan Williams. Burley Heath. Study score. Edited by James
Francis Brown. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. [Pref., p. v;
manuscript and textual notes, p. vii; orchestration, p. [viii]; score,
p. 1--32. ISBN 978-0-19-339939-6. 7.95[pounds sterling].]
Ralph Vaughan Williams. Harnham Down. Study score. Edited by James
Francis Brown. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. [Pref., p. v-vi;
manuscript and textual notes, p. vii; orchestration, p. [viii]; score,
p. 1-19. ISBN 978-0-19-339940-2. 6.95[pounds sterling].]
Ralph Vaughan Williams. The Solent. Study score. Edited by James
Francis Brown. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. [Pref., p. v-vi;
textual notes, p. vii; score, p. 1-33. ISBN 978-0-19-339941-9.
7.95[pounds sterling].]
Despite an increasing presence in both performance and scholarly
domains, it seems unlikely that Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) will
be honored with a uniform and complete critical edition any time soon.
Unlike his younger colleague William Walton, whose monogamous
relationship with a publisher--Oxford University Press--combined with a
fairly short work-list and unusually neat handwriting made the
completion of the William Walton Edition manageable in less than twenty
years, Vaughan Williams's spidery script and sprawling oeuvre
spread across several publishers' catalogs (principally Stainer
& Bell, Oxford, and Curwen, with works in varying states of
international copyright protection) pose practical challenges to the
production of a complete edition. In recent years, Oxford has been
steadily churning out new critical editions of a varied selection of
Vaughan Williams works in its catalog--including Symphonies 5, 6, and 7,
as well as lesser works (e.g., the Tuba Concerto, and Flos Campi). This
worthy initiative has been the beneficiary of the Vaughan Williams
Charitable Trust. The six works reviewed here (all dating between 1895
and 1907) are products of the same initiative, but have remained
hitherto unpublished. Although in 1903 he could regard these as among
his "most important works" (see letter 31 in Letters of Ralph
Vaughan Williams 1895-1958, ed. Hugh Cobbe [Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2008], 44), all were subsequently withdrawn by the composer.
Indeed, "scrapped" was the word Vaughan Williams generally
used for them, but he did not completely discard them. Each of these
works survives only in an autograph full score. (The autograph of the
Serenade is held by Yale University; those of the other five works are
preserved at the British Library.) With but a single source, these
editions are straightforward: some regularization of articulations and
dynamics, a number of dubious notes emended, and an occasional creative
rethinking of the original notation, but there are no challenging
textual variants to be reconciled. Harnham Down seems to have required
the least intervention ("Very little editorial clarification was
necessary since expression marks and dynamics were consistent," p.
vii); Burley Heath--breaking off at m. 173 in the surviving
source--required the conjectural addition of twenty-six measures
(adapted slightly from earlier in the work) to provide a convincing
conclusion.
So what do these works offer? Collectively they yield a more
nuanced view of Vaughan Williams as orchestral composer. They might be
regarded as the scaffolding that enabled him to reach the level of the
Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis (1910), The Lark Ascending (1914),
and the first three symphonies (1903-9; 1911-13; 1916-21)--and, indeed,
that equipped others similarly engaged on the quest for distinctly
English orchestral character pieces. Burley Heath, Harnham Down, and The
Solent are as cousins to Gustav Hoist's Two Songs without Words
(1906) and George Butterworth's three English Idylls (1910-13), and
in some particulars betray a close family resemblance (particularly in
the prominence of the solo clarinet and the intricate divisi string
textures).
All of the works reviewed here predate Vaughan Williams's
study with Maurice Ravel, and demonstrate a conservative approach to
orchestration. The influence of Vaughan Williams's prior teachers
Hubert Parry, Charles Villiers Stanford, and Max Bruch are very much in
evidence here. Adam Carse wrote of Bruch's music that it
"typifies the sound, unoffending, conventional Teutonic
orchestration of the period; orchestration which took no risks, which is
not quite so heavy and unbending as that of Brahms, yet which lacks
enterprise, lightness and vigor" (Carse, The History of
Orchestration [London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner; New York: E. P.
Dutton, 1925; reprint, New York: Dover, 1964], 297); this description
applies well to much of the scoring here. Perhaps significantly, Harnham
Down, the latest of the works, has the most inventive orchestration: the
trio of solo violas which ends the piece is a particularly striking
idea.
For these works Vaughan Williams expected a very large string
section (with up to eight desks apiece for first and second violins),
but he requires only pairs of woodwinds and trumpets, with at most four
horns, three trombones, tuba, percussion, and harp. The triple-wind
French-style orchestra (and appropriated by Wagner as the German
romantic orchestra) was not the default symphony orchestra even in
London. Vaughan Williams's first three symphonies--completed after
his study with Ravel--are each conceived for the larger triple-wind
ensemble, but even then Vaughan Williams felt constrained to publish
them in cued versions that allowed for performances by the smaller
orchestras that were still the norm. Not until his Sixth Symphony (1948)
did he publish a symphonic work for large orchestra that he did not
adapt for a smaller ensemble.
The 1898 Serenade in A Minor is a fascinating work, as it could be
read as Vaughan Williams's tentative first step down the wrong
path--that is, a well-trodden path of British symphonies in the
MendelssohnSchumann-Brahms trajectory, such as those of Parry and
Stanford. If so, the "serenade" label is not merely a disguise
for a symphony by another name; rather, it freed Vaughan Williams to
explore symphonic strategies other than sonata form. Even so, the
decision of what to include in it seems to have caused him some trouble,
as did even the order of the five movements. As completed, the
penultimate movement ("Romance") is strikingly original. By
far the longest movement in performance, it begins with a slow, lyrical
melody featuring clarinet, horn, and strings; the second section begins
with a birdcall-like unaccompanied oboe phrase in alternation with a new
lyrical melody in the strings; the birdcall gradually permeates the full
orchestral texture, including the bass instruments, and eventually the
first melody returns in counterpoint with the birdcall figure. This
resembles Hoist's later "Country Song," the first of his
Two Songs without Words already mentioned, but no other parallel
presents itself. In performance, the Serenade might make an interesting
companion piece to Beethoven's "Pastoral" Symphony, not
as much because of the unexpected prominence of birdcall, but rather for
the unconventional reworking of a genre (and indeed in five movements),
and the very similar scoring.
The Serenade seems to be the best work of the group; whether the
rest of these can sustain themselves in repertory lists or even on the
shelves of music stores is doubtful. The composer had his doubts even
early on, trying to group some of the shorter works into something
larger--although what, exactly, is not quite clear. The manuscripts of
Burley Heath, The Solent, and Harnham Down in the British Library are
bound together (Add. MS 57278), and the undated title page preceding
Burley Heath indicates that it was at some point considered the first
movement of In the Nexo Forest: Four Impressions for Orchestra; the list
of instruments on the verso indicates which instruments play in each of
the four movements. The Solent does not quite fit any of these. Harnham
Down (albeit a later work--but later than the title page?) might have
served as the second movement. Then again, Harnham Down was performed as
part of Two Impressions for Orchestra in 1907, together with Boldre
Wood, now lost. Were all four ever intended to cohere together? Have
other works vanished without trace, even in the surviving
correspondence? (And were the works that were actually destroyed deemed
too close to later works that reused some of their musical material? If
so, The Solent is a lucky survivor, as thematic material reappears in
the Sea Symphony and Symphony no. 9, as well as in the music for the
1956 film The England of Elizabeth.) Vaughan Williams's idea of
combining his three Norfolk Rhapsodies into a "Norfolk"
Symphony never came to fruition, as he scrapped nos. 2 and 3. The last
of these is no longer extant, but no. 2 exists in the autograph
manuscript (lacking two pages), and is forthcoming from Oxford in this
series of glimpses of early Vaughan Williams.
Oxford does not have the monopoly on publishing the unknown Vaughan
Williams: recently Stainer & Bell brought out the choral-orchestral
mass setting that Vaughan Williams wrote for his Cambridge doctorate (A
Cambridge Mass for SATB soloists, double chorus and orchestra, ed. Alan
Tongue [London: Stainer & Bell, 2012]), as well as the
contemporaneous cantata The Garden of Proserpine (vocal score [London:
Stainer & Bell, 2011]); and Faber Music has published the orchestral
Heroic Elegy and Triumphal Epilogue of 1901 (London: Faber Music, 2008).
Each of the works has been performed, and the six works reviewed here
have each been recorded. No doubt there will be a flurry of performances
of at least some of this repertoire in the 2022 sesquicentennial of the
composer's birth. Even for a composer as generally popular as
Vaughan Williams, however, these works seem unlikely to become widely
known. The works are nonetheless significant, not only for what they
reveal about Vaughan Williams, but more especially about the musical
culture in which he was striving to make a name for himself. Moreoever,
it is fascinating to discover that Harnham Down moved the
fifteen-year-old Gerald Finzi so greatly when he heard it in performance
in 1916 that it could serve as a direct (and documented) influence on
his own Intimations of Immortality some twenty years later.
The piano Fantasia is the weakest of the six works. Apparently
never receiving a performance during the composer's lifetime, the
manuscript reveals that it caused him the most trouble in composition
(1896-1902) and revision (1904). The editor, Graham Parlett, reports an
astonishing array of cancelled pages and revisions, but even so some
passages have required further intervention. Some of these are
puzzling--regularizing quarter-notes to eighth-notes in one place (m.
50) and the reverse in another (m. 75), in both instances "as in
surrounding bars" (p. vi), although in the first instance the
texture is different enough to argue that the quarter-note was
intentional. At these and other times, one wonders whether in the quest
for regularity something "characteristic" (a term Vaughan
Williams recalled from his early instruction under Hubert Parry) has
been eliminated.
These works would have benefited from publication in a single
volume--an anthology of the early orchestral works, with a single
comprehensive discussion of their context, together with a consideration
of the musicological literature on these works. Not one of the prefaces
to these scores cites the most detailed consideration of these works to
date (Michael Vaillancourt, "Coming of Age: The Earliest Orchestral
Music of Ralph Vaughan Williams," in Vaughan Williams Studies, ed.
Alain Frogley [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996], 23-46).
While that article and the more recent treatment by Alain Frogley
("History and Geography: The Early Orchestral Works and the First
Three Symphonies," in The Cambridge Companion to Vaughan Williams,
ed. Alain Frogley and Aidan J. Thompson [Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2013], 81-105) together go some way in providing the necessary
context, the editing of each of these works might well have been
different with the larger context in mind. In particular there is
inconsistency between what makes it into the score and what goes in the
textual notes. At the beginning of The Solent, the division of the
violins (each section divided into two groups of four desks
1.3.5.7/2.4.6.8) is included in the score as if it were the
composer's instruction, although the notes indicate that this is a
blue pencil marking; earlier, the editor, James Francis Brown, remarks
that the blue pencil markings "are supposed by Michael Kennedy to
be in the hand of Sir Henry Wood" (without citation, but apparently
referring to a comment in Michael Kennedy, A Catalogue of the Works of
Ralph Vaughan Williams, 2d ed. [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996],
20), but without considering the question further. This speculative
connection to Wood is unsatisfying. Without further evidence, the marks
might just as well be those of Dan Godfrey, who is known to have
conducted a number of these works with his Bournemouth Municipal
Orchestra. As the Solent--the narrow strait between Great Britain and
the Isle of Wight--was was just a few miles east of Bournemouth, one
would think Vaughan Williams's The Solent would have been of
particular interest to Godfrey. Might he have been involved in the
mysterious June 1903 (private?) performance? The reader is left to
wonder, but an edition embracing all of these works would have been in a
better position to consider such questions. Similarly, although Brown
edited the three shorter works, there is little effort to confront the
difficult questions concerning what the composer's larger project
was, and how that idea mutated over time; there is, indeed, no detailed
information on the relationship of the title page of Burley Heath
discussed above to the rest of the manuscript Add. MS 57278. And if
Julian Rushton can take the editorial liberty to change the time
signature in a single measure of the Bucolic Suite (fourth movement, m.
264), might this option have enabled Graham Parlett to explicate better
the composer's curious triplet notation used to indicate a 3/2
hemiola within a prevailing 12/8 in the Fantasia (mm. 415-28)?
If these editions must exist as individual issues, it is a pity
that each editor was not overseen by a single general editor to bring
some consistency to the project. As it is, the six works are much more
interesting in tandem than they are individually. As a set, they belong
in any music research library. Scholars of Vaughan Williams's
orchestral music and of the British orchestral scene should be aware of
them, even if they do not acquire them for ready reference. Beyond this,
it is difficult to recommend them more widely. Although these are
generally good editions, one cannot help but think that the works they
contain were scrapped for good reasons, and perhaps the composer knew
best.
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
JAMES BROOKS KUYKENDALL
Erskine College