Recording Review #73: A Groggy Gerontius

Elgar: The Dream of Gerontius, Op. 38. Karen Cargill (Angel); Roland Wood (Priest and Angel of Agony); David Butt Philip (Gerontius); Martyn Brabbins, conductor; Huddersfield Choral Society; Orchestra of Opera North. Hyperion CDA68461/2.

When I reviewed Paul McCreesh's Signum Records Gerontius for Nineteenth-Century Music Review last year (DOI: https://doi.org/10.1017/S1479409825100621), I began by noting that there were not all that many complete entries in the catalogue (just north of two dozen). But I may have spoken too soon. Including this new one on Hyperion, there have been THREE released since the McCreesh. And while I can't say if there are more in preparation, it seems like this oratorio has become something of a bandwagon. Mostly this is a pity: almost none of them match the best ones that have long been available. That very much includes this newcomer directed by Martyn Brabbins. 

We have two main problems here. The first and more serious one is that Brabbins just doesn't have the moxie to be conducting a dramatic, post-Wagnerian oratorio. His energy tends to be low, and his instincts too much favor cool balance and reserve. He's best in music like Vaughan Williams's Pastoral Symphony or Walton's Second Symphony...things that flatter his relative introversion. In Gerontius he holds back his very good vocal soloists with poor tempo decisions and a lack of bold orchestral gestures. When the protagonist is on his deathbed in the first part, we need to have more desperation. I get the sense that David Butt Philip (who really has a great voice and sense of purpose here) wants to let this rip, but he's held back by a dampening Brabbins and OON. It comes off lethargic instead of desperate. Particularly plodding is the "Sanctus fortis" section, which should be alive with existential dread. It needs a faster tempo. Poor Gerontius goes through enough in this story; do we really want to drag out his death, too? Brabbins gets let off the hook somewhat in the overall calmer second part, where the Angel is leading Gerontius around in the afterlife. But even here I think he could have driven home the emotional highs more consistently. The part toward the end when the poor man is judged and consigned to Purgatory is almost limp. Again, Philip does his best, but the orchestra under Brabbins gives him little dramatic help.

The second problem is the decision to use an amateur choir. Yes, I know: this work has a long tradition with such societies, and one of my favorite recordings even uses an earlier cast of this very Huddersfield Choral Society (Malcolm Sargent and Heddle Nash on Testament SBT2025). But while Paul McCreesh's 2024 effort is not my preferred one, his group of professionals convinced me that you really need a skillful chorus for parts of this to work best. Or maybe just a better group of amateurs. The HCS here sounds rough at times. If you listen carefully, you can hear the heterogeneous makeup of the group, a sensation familiar to anyone who has sung in an average amateur ensemble. It comes out especially in the demons chorus and 'Be merciful' stretch at the outset. In louder portions, such as Gerontius's send-off at the end of the first part, and in the 'Praise to the Holiest in the height' area in Part II, the massed sound resembles a church congregation, with all that entails. In my review of the McCreesh, I criticized the choir for not being crass enough in the demons part. Well, here we have a rather incidental crassness, but we also lose a sheeny sound. I guess you can't have it all. 

In spite of what I'm saying, I would be fine with all of this in a live regional performance. But that's not the same as listening to a recording. Some things more advantageously pass in the moment, never to be experienced again. A recording is an artifact – a monument with a strong claim to posterity. And I'm afraid this particular one isn't very monumental. 

Verdict: Not Recommended

Recording Review #9: Pickard's Puffers

John Pickard: Symphonies Nos. 2 and 6; Verlaine Songs. Emma Tring, soprano; Martyn Brabbins, conductor; BBC National Orchestra of Wales. BIS 2721. 

I sometimes wonder if there's a certain transformation I missed. How does one go from wanting something catchy or otherwise viscerally pleasing out of music, to one for whom conceptual conceits are enough? When I was on Twitter (sorry, "X") I'd often raise such points in criticizing music like the works on this recording. The responses from the Geeks there amounted to pretending not to know what I was talking about, or assuring me that catchy things like a great melody or an infectious rhythm are no more important than anything else. Well, I never got there. Not after earning a PhD in musicology and having listened to classical music assiduously for nearly 30 years. I want so much more out of my music than Neat Patterns or Interesting Sounds. And I'm afraid I just don't hear much more than that in any of these Pickard works. 

Pickard's problem is that he has no feeling for anything that will likely appeal to the unschooled listener. These works show a meagre melodic gift (including the decidedly untuneful Verlaine Song cycle) and a restless sense of rhythm. Which leaves him emphasizing things that are interesting mostly to analysts, critics, and other geeks. There are lots of colorful timbres (especially in his use of brass) and interesting shifts of texture, tempi, and other sonic points. I'm sure I would find all kinds of structural cohesion and ingenuity in the symphonies if I were to look. But why bother? I just don't *like* any of it. It's the same old, faceless angularity and dissonance trotted out by so many academic symphonists since the middle-20th century. The same old puffy masses of sound. And they go on for too long. The one-movement Second Symphony, which occupies Track 1, clocks in at nearly half an hour. No sooner had the piece started than I groaned at the prospect of wasting this amount of my life sticking with it. (But I did!) The two-movement Sixth Symphony presents a similar experience, though here Pickard splits things up a bit with two 10+-minute spans. It would have been better-going (with more relief) if they had been shorter works and movements, though of course the 'all-important' structural considerations might have been affected. But nope. Robert Simpson would be proud. 

I feel a bit bad being so negative. But I also perceive that too many critics refuse to face the obvious with music like this: it's resolutely niche stuff that's either going to turn off most listeners or simply float past their ears. Let's be up-front and not pretend it is anything else. If you're an average Joe or Josephine looking to enjoy some nice classical music, I suggest you look elsewhere. Also, if you consider yourself to be this kind of listener, check back at The Ross Review often for more such honesty: I'll square with you even if other folks won't. 

Geeks Only