The English composer Sir Hubert Parry is one of those figures mainly known today for some of his less-significant compositions. His fame in Canada is mostly confined to Anglican church musicians, and mainly rests on a couple of hymn tunes and one anthem. A little more of his music has received attention more recently in England, yet even there much is relatively unknown.
In this second of two blog posts about Parry's music, I will talk about three orchestral works.
Like many people, I came to know the music of Sir Hubert Parry through his hymn Jerusalem which was still in the hymn book of the Anglican Church of Canada when I was raised in that faith. In my choir-singing days I learned his anthem I was glad. I had heard that he wrote orchestral music but had never heard any of it. Apparently, even in Britain it was rarely played.
Then, in 1978, Sir Adrian Boult (a noted English conductor) was planning his retirement. His company, EMI, offered him the opportunity to record any work of his choice for his final record, and he chose to do 3 works by Parry. I purchased that record a few years later, and immediately fell under the spell of some truly remarkable music.
As soon as I began listening, I realized that Brahms was a major influence on Parry's orchestral style, and that his orchestration in particular had a distinctly Brahmsian cast to it.
On Side 1 of that historic record Boult gave a splendidly energetic reading of Parry's Fifth Symphony (his last). It's not a lengthy work, running only about 25 minutes, but it gives the impression of being much larger in scale than it really is. The themes are broad in scope, the developments intriguing, and the work is kept tight by the use of unusual structural devices. The four linked movements are given cryptic titles: Stress, Love, Play and Now. What any of these might mean (especially the last one) is hard to say. The music flows continuously from start to finish, without interruption. Each movement is marked by graceful melody, but it's the sturdy, upbeat theme of the finale and its strong but not overblown conclusion that always sticks in my mind and memory.
On Side 2 Boult gave us the Symphonic Variations. With this work, Parry joined his name to Brahms and Dvorak (to name only two) as the composer of a significant set of variations for orchestra. This one has a feature that sets it apart from all others of the genre that I know: the variations are actually grouped in such a way that the layout resembles a four-movement symphony, albeit on a compact scale. The opening group of variations is played through at the same basic tempo of the original theme. Next follows a group in faster time, with a lighter, more fantastic scoring -- plainly the "scherzo". The last of these closes into a long shake or trill on clarinet under which the strings pluck the outline of the theme, and then -- as Sir Donald Tovey so aptly said -- "the slow movement group sails in with tragic pomp". The tempo shifts to an unusual and majestic 9/8, while the orchestration is dominated by horns and trombones, rich and dark. Each variation in this slow section adds another layer of intensity to the music. I truly believe that Brahms would have been proud to sign his name to this work on the strength of this powerfully dramatic passage. After the slow section dies down, the original key and tempo return and the final set of variations work up to a rousing finale. All this passes in the space of less than 20 minutes, yet those tragic slow variations lift the whole composition to the scale and weight of a full-length symphony.
And after that, the disc closes with the Elegy for Brahms. This memorial work, for whatever reason, was never published and indeed may never have been performed before this 1978 recording session. It's a true masterpiece, nothing less, a reverent acknowledgement by one master of his debt to another. It opens with a wistful wind phrase, then a string line rises and falls, repeating itself over and over again -- but two tones lower at each step. This descends into the depths and then gives birth to a whole series of thematic developments. The music, in full sonata form, unfolds as naturally and organically as the best works of the man who inspired it. There are moments of smiling reminiscence, moments of mourning, moments of anger. At last, at the end, all passion is spent. The rising and falling string phrase from the beginning is recalled briefly, as the music climbs up out of the depths and finally comes quietly to rest under a clear sky. The inspiration from the closing pages of Brahms' Third Symphony is unmistakable. This piece, so heartachingly beautiful, completely captured me at the first hearing. I replayed it so often that I eventually wore the record out!
More recent recordings of all these works, all five symphonies, and much more rewarding orchestral music by Parry, have been made on the Chandos label, and are readily available for download. I've got them all from that source -- and I still press the repeat button every time I play the Elegy for Brahms. It never fails to move me very deeply.
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