I am turning my attention this week to Elgar and a particular favourite of mine and a potential graveyard for string-playing musicians. Elgar was himself a fine violinist and his writing displays a detailed and intimate knowledge of string technique. There had been a number of outstanding works for string orchestra, including the serenades by Tchaikovsky and Dvorak, and Elgar’s great work took its place amongst them.

My choice this week is:

Elgar:  Introduction and Allegro for Strings, Op.47.
There are few, if any, composers who left so much detailed information on the page about how to play their music as did Elgar. Puccini is quite detailed and always challenging, but let me give you a random four bars of Elgar’s markings for the first violin at figure 5 – a total of 31 notes:

f, sf downbow, 6 notes all with accents, sf downbow, 6 accents, ff downbow with tenuto, 6 accents with the first 2 notes both upbows, 6 more accents, sf with pause tied to a short note with a stressed staccato on the tied note.

The same applies in all his music be it The Dream of Gerontius, Cello Concerto, Enigma Variations etc. Gerontius is littered with instructions; I have opened the full score at random (pages 20-21). The double page says rit, lento, pause, Allegro moderato, rit, piu lento, piu mosso, rit, lento, rit, piu lento, all in a total of 15 bars.  Those are just the instructions about pacing. Then there are the many details regarding dynamics, articulation including accents, tenutos, division between string players on a desk etc. Nine of the instructions above are about slowing down, and two about speeding up. The trap for a conductor/director is not seeing the wood for the trees. There are many tempo changes which, if overdone, can cause stagnation, and the music needs to flow. My understanding is that Elgar was intentionally very specific with his use of metronome marks, though his recordings don’t always seem to match his written intentions! It is a useful starting point for understanding his scores.

Any player performing this Introduction and Allegro needs to have studied it and learnt it, and to be aware of what everyone around them is up to. It’s complicated and you can’t simply ‘turn up’ and do it justice. Incidentally, there are no metronome marks – but lots of everything else!

It was written in 1905 and first performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, itself formed only the year before in 1904, in an all-Elgar programme conducted by him.  It features a solo string quartet with a large ensemble of divided strings – two parts of first violins, two of second violins and so on through violas, cellos and double basses.  This was a formula which Vaughan Williams adapted in his Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, though, differently laid out. Where Elgar had a quartet, Vaughan Williams had a small ensemble of nine players. The idea of a small solo group playing with a larger group goes back to the baroque concerto grosso of the 17th/ 18th centuries, and even the solo concerto.  Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro can be said to have some connection with that historic texture, but really this is a forward-looking work and the scoring is more about texture than solo alternating with tutti.  Any link with the past is largely superficial.

As the title suggests, The Introduction and Allegro is in two parts, each thematically connected and in a form which was Elgar’s own. However, the Introduction is not far removed from the not-specifically-named introductions to some 19th century concertos which preceded the start of the main first orchestral tuttis, including Brahms’ Double Concerto and Beethoven’s Fifth Piano Concerto, the Emperor.  It does as it says on the tin…introducing us to three different ideas, the third of which is a tender melody played by the viola in the quartet. This melody is later to form the climax of the work, (where you can clearly hear Sir John Barbirolli groaning in ecstasy on his wonderful recording, as though trying to dislodge something!).

The Allegro then begins using the second idea from the Introduction, but this time the stop/start aspect is less prevalent. A new staccato idea is then introduced by the quartet in fast-moving semiquavers and this is exchanged between quartet and the larger group. By the way, the ‘form’ adopted by Elgar is built around key, starting in G minor.  The Allegro starting and ending in G major and this new semi-quaver theme acting as a ‘second subject, in the Dominant D major which takes us to the end of the equivalent of an Exposition in Sonata form. Oh yes!

Where traditionally one might then have a ‘Development’ section before a return to the Recapitulation, Elgar set off on a new and surprising path with a tricky and intricate fugue first introduced in G minor in the 2nd violins.  After each instrument part has had its say, more lyrical accompaniments join in to sweeten the texture, most conspicuously by the solo quartet (which plays a hidden melody which originally accompanied the 2nd idea from the Introduction), whilst the ‘action’ of the fugue carries on around it. This is an extended section, busy and complex, which finally comes to a conclusion when the D major semiquaver section from the Exposition returns, this time in tonic key of G major.  ‘Elgar’s coming home, he’s coming home’.  We are in what amounts to a Recapitulation, using all the main Introduction ideas further extended, but building as one to a mighty climax and final statement (Barbirolli groan time), the melody first given in the Introduction on the solo viola.  This time the scoring is dense, the passion great and fully indulged and we are given a soaking in Elgar’s most-loved and highly-identifiable melodic genius.  Elsewhere in his scores he would probably have written ‘Nobilmente’ whilst tweaking his moustache with his head leaning back.  Molto sostenuto (= full bows) he calls for, and then molto espressivo, con fuoco, fff.  Play it with pomp and circumstance! Express it fully without reservation. And then enough! A hasty and truncated gallop to the finish.  Audience bursts with applause.

You may get the impression that I like this piece. It’s a masterpiece. It’s heart-warming, optimistic, challenging and concise and represents to my mind the very best of Elgar with no hint of the turgid.  It never rambles, never gets stuck and the image of running or riding over the Malvern Hills near Elgar’s home, which the film-maker Ken Russell provided in his early film on Elgar, is not a bad one. 

Diversion alert + name drop!  I conducted the music to a Ken Russell film once, called Salome’s Last Dance, based loosely on Oscar Wilde’s play (I think). It contained a lot of nudity as usual, and was a flop for good reason.  One could not see the film whilst recording the music, by the way, er hem. He filmed it using a CD and then, for legal reasons, it had to be recorded ‘live’.  I had headphones in order to copy exactly the same tempi as the CD.  Ken Russell was a great fan of Mahler (he made a phantasaical film on him too). Some years later I was conducting Mahler Symphony No.3 in Canterbury Cathedral and Ken was sitting in the front row, just along from my right arm and about 3 metres away from me. I didn’t meet him in the cathedral, but bumped into him afterwards outside in the street. I said hello, and he looked at me quizzically. ‘Yes, yes… yes’ he mumbled slowly and thoughtfully. I then had to remind him of the film and who I was, and it all came back to him.  We talked about it briefly and then he asked of the Mahler concert just finished: ‘Were you in there?’. 

John Barbirolli became one of the great interpreters of Elgar’s music, and was playing in the cello section of the London Symphony Orchestra for the first performance of the Cello Concerto. He played the solo part soon afterwards. Barbirolli rescued the Hallé Orchestra in the 1940s when its future was in doubt due to lack of players on active service. He had previously succeeded Toscanini (an unlikely happening for a relatively inexperienced conductor) at the New York Philharmonic. He crossed the Atlantic twice in perilous conditions, many of the accompanying ships in the convoys not reaching their destinations.  He stayed with the Hallé orchestra for the rest of his life, turning down a number of offers from the likes of the LSO and BBC orchestras.  He did eventually lessen his commitment to the Hallé which allowed him time to take up invitations with other orchestras including the Berlin Philharmonic.

Barbirolli’s fine recording of Introduction and Allegro is here on YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwt4rw3-Tdw
(Groans at 12’35” and other places)

and also on Spotify:
https://open.spotify.com/track/4e2eee52hOd3FwKwMQR3ec?si=wjDV6987RoSdr7DQ8x1Hig

There is another fine and really committed performance to watch from the group A Far Cry from Boston Massachusetts
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=faAacaaA-kI

Both these performances follow Elgar’s instructions (or surely his intended lack of them) near the very end, not slowing down after the stringendo printed at two bars before fig. 31.

If you don’t know it, you should also listen to Elgar’s Serenade for Strings, Op.20, also conducted by Barbirolli (more groaning in the lovely slow movement…).

https://open.spotify.com/track/3qSuAZgvf3GHyiSJJCwhDw?si=_Y1swbEiTXeScO3u704Wwg
https://open.spotify.com/track/5Gev27LIynMo5dHFTYdgx7?si=q5B7T0XmSs-eDdGQVHvtkw
https://open.spotify.com/track/7BneNNkc4BhWLdrTOchuGy?si=Yf7CzbvySF67so78DC1xtw

Ken Russell Elgar film link here – not the greatest but nostalgic for some, and the opening scene has Introduction and Allegro playing

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM2YGJCjAEA

Once again, I hope you are keeping well and look forward so much to some resemblance of the ‘old normal’.

Richard

P.S. I came across this also played by A Far Cry – worth a listen and watch.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYsCqwnoDCE