My previous recordings have mostly focused on either my Christmas repertoire, solo works, or music for chamber ensembles. Most of the music on this new album has been written within the past four years, although Fandango frívolo dates from 2011. The motivation for a new recording came in part from the writing of a symphony, as well as from encouraging discussions with the late Bramwell Tovey, formerly Principal Conductor of the BBC Concert Orchestra. Bramwell was the conductor for my last Christmas album, A Windy Christmas. My own association with the BBC Concert Orchestra goes back more than forty years, and it was a huge pleasure to be able to make these recordings with this orchestra and its conductor laureate, Barry Wordsworth, who has been a long-term friend and musical collaborator.

Festus, an ‘Antiphonal Fanfare for Orchestra’, is a brief showpiece that contrasts the sections of the orchestra, both individually and in various combinations. It ends in a grand style with the addition of a pipe organ for the closing bars and a final salute from the three trumpets shining over the top of the whole ensemble. The work is dedicated to Barry Wordsworth with huge gratitude for his wonderful support and generosity of spirit with this project.

I’ve always enjoyed the sound of the bass clarinet, especially its ‘fruity’ lower register, and I wanted to take the opportunity to write a concert piece for my friend Derek Hannigan, the BBC Concert Orchestra’s principal bass clarinet player. De profundis (‘out of the depths’) is something of a pastiche. Written in three movements, the concertino is scored for a chamber orchestra consisting of strings, french horn and vibraphone. The first movement, 'Impending gloom', opens with a jaunty theme above a pizzicato bass line. Following some development, featuring the vibraphone and horn, there’s a short and very slow cadenza section for the bass clarinet over tremolando double basses and a low bass drum roll—this leads to a reprise of the opening theme. I enjoy titles, and this one is an oblique reference to one of the (perhaps unkind) nicknames for the bass clarinet—the ‘gloom tube’. Following a short introduction featuring the horn and vibraphone, the main theme of the slow movement ('Canzonetta') appears, played by the bass clarinet. This develops to show the wide range of the instrument from its depths to an almost saxophone-like upper register. The final movement, 'Aftermath', has the feel of a gigue but in a definitely swung style—a little jazz bass clarinet!

I wrote Cantilena especially for this album, and it’s dedicated to the guitarist Carlos Bonell. This gentle ‘song’ is also scored for a small orchestra consisting of strings, horn and harp with a prominent part for the haunting sound of the alto flute—an instrument I’ve admired since first hearing it in those evocative James Bond film scores and played beautifully here by Ileana Ruhemann. The other piece for guitar, Fandango frívolo, dates from 2011 and was written as a companion piece to Fandango fantástico. Both ‘fandangos’ were originally scored for guitar and organ and published by Camden Music under the title Two Anglo Fandangos. The subsequent orchestrations are for strings with wind quintet.

Paper dances was written in 2008 as a first ‘paper’ anniversary present for my wife Joanna Smith, who joined me in the solo piano duet part of this recording. The piece is something of a dance fantasy, borrowing heavily from a variety of idioms. Together, we recorded Paper dances for BBC Radio 3 and subsequently gave its first public performance with the BBC Concert Orchestra during one of its regular Friday Night is Music Night broadcasts for BBC Radio 2.

Monday, 23 March 2020, will be indelibly inscribed in the memories of many people—the day of the first ‘lockdown’ in the UK as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. That challenging period gave many of us a very small silver lining—the opportunity to do things that the normal demands of life prevented. For me, it was, initially, the writing of my autobiography Just a Little From the Top. Following that, and while thinking of a new project, a memory returned of a challenge issued by a colleague some years previously, “I think you have a symphony in you!” Considering my writing at the time, this seemed improbable; however, thinking back on these words, an idea started to appear—a set of variations based on the hymn tune St Anne, and with that idea, Visions of St Anne was born. I have no idea why it should have been this particular melody—whether, perhaps, it was subconsciously associated with the words of the great Isaac Watts hymn traditionally sung to this tune at remembrance time, “O God, our help in ages past”.

I wouldn’t say that the piece is intentionally programmatic, but I think it does broadly reflect the varied emotions of that challenging period, starting in early 2020 with a general sense of uncertainty about what we were hearing from around the world. The symphony was finished in early 2021 and is dedicated to the memory of Bramwell Tovey. While writing the symphony, I had clear images of certain colleagues playing the solo lines I was writing. This is perhaps not too surprising following my long association with the BBC Concert Orchestra—one which undoubtedly had a great influence on my writing that clearly draws on the great tradition of British Light Music. It was, therefore, a particular joy when it became possible to record the work with this orchestra under the inspirational direction of Barry Wordsworth, who is not only a former Principal Conductor of the orchestra but was also a good friend and colleague of Bramwell Tovey through their work in the world of ballet.

I wrote the first movement, 'Variazioni', as a showpiece for the various sections of the orchestra. It is of fairly conventional proportions with the addition of a bass clarinet and alto saxophone; both of which have extended solos. There is also a virtuoso vibraphone part played by the legendary Alasdair Malloy. I’ve always been drawn to the sound of the cor anglais and have frequently featured the instrument in my writing—notably in Cygncopations for cor anglais and chamber orchestra, written in 2003 for my dear friend Victoria Walpole. It is the cor anglais that opens the symphony with an extended solo, introducing a slightly fragmented version of the ‘St Anne’ theme, which never hides far below the surface of the symphony. However, the tune doesn’t fully appear until much later in the movement, when it’s played majestically by the horn section with dancing orchestral figures above. This figure is based on a derivative of the tune, presented earlier in the movement as a fugue, beginning with a solo vibraphone, an instrument that occupies a prominent role in many of the works on this album.

My original thought was that the symphony would be a single-movement work—variations for orchestra. However, by the time I had finished the movement, it became clear that we were not going to escape the pandemic anytime soon, and following a ‘Zoom’ call with Bramwell Tovey in Vancouver, I decided to see what else might develop—and so the final three movements came about. The second movement, 'Scherzetto', is based on an irregular bass ostinato played by the double basses, piano, harp and timpani. Meanwhile, the upper strings and woodwinds swirl overhead with lively triplet figures. Following a jazzy feature for the vibraphone, the movement dances to a somewhat uncertain end.

The reflective 'Lamentosa' opens with a horn solo played exquisitely by Andrew Littlemore. While clearly reflecting on the consequences of recent months, there are moments of hope in the central section with its woodwind solos and cheerful interjections from the celeste, harp and vibraphone. Following a somewhat dark reference to the Coventry Carol and a reprise of the opening horn solo, these three instruments engage in an increasingly busy dialogue that leads, without a break, to 'Celebrazione'. I started work on this final movement in a somewhat jubilant mood—romping towards the Christmas that we’d recently been promised, only for it to be snatched away at the last minute on the 20 December. Eventually, spirits are raised again, and the movement romps to a triumphant close with horn fanfares and gleeful solos from the clarinet and saxophone.

I am indebted to many friends and colleagues who have facilitated the making of these recordings. There was a wonderful camaraderie during the three days of recording with the BBC Concert Orchestra and its leader, Rebecca Turner. Particular thanks go to conductor Barry Wordsworth and Neil Varley, the BBC Concert Orchestra’s Senior Producer, as well as the team at Signum Records. I’m also hugely grateful for the patience of my long-suffering wife, Joanna, while I shut myself away, writing. Finally, I would like to acknowledge the huge encouragement and support shown to me by Bramwell Tovey, who I feel sure is now conducting that great celestial orchestra on high.

Roderick Elms © 2024

Bramwell Tovey was a renowned conductor, pianist and composer and a great friend to many around the world. He was born in Ilford, Essex in the UK, and studied the piano, tuba, conducting and composition at the Royal Academy of Music. On a personal level, we were both founder members of the Redbridge Youth Orchestra and became lifelong friends—he was Best Man at my wedding.

Bram progressed to a glittering conducting career which began in the world of ballet; embracing the London Festival Ballet, Scottish Ballet and Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet. With his charismatic personality, his infectious sense of humour as well as his warm-hearted leadership and deep understanding of the orchestra bred from his personal playing experience, he was frequently referred to as ‘a musician’s conductor’. His career progressed to conducting major orchestras around the world and composing substantial works such as his opera The Inventor for Calgary Opera. He was the Principal Conductor of the BBC Concert Orchestra from 2018 until his untimely passing in July 2022.

A seminal moment came in 1986 when Bramwell stepped in at the last minute to conduct the opening night of the London Symphony Orchestra’s Bernstein Festival in the presence of Bernstein himself. Two years later he conducted the revival of the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company in London, and his career developed to embrace many other orchestras, both in the UK and around the world. He moved to Canada in 1989 to become Music Director of the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. From 2002 he held a brief tenure as Music Director of Orchestre Philharmonique du Luxembourg in addition to his appointment two years earlier as Music Director of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra where he remained for eighteen years. His VSO innovations included its annual festival of contemporary music and also the VSO Orchestral Institute at Whistler, a comprehensive summer orchestral training programme for young musicians held in the scenic mountain resort of Whistler in British Columbia. In 2019, Bramwell established the VSO School of Music, of which he was Artistic Advisor. This was later named ‘The Tovey Centre for Music’ to honour ‘his exceptional commitment to music and music education in the community’. He was a regular visitor to all the major North American orchestras and enjoyed a close relationship with the New York Philharmonic. In 2021, he was named Music Director designate of the Sarasota Orchestra, effective from the 2022 season.

During his time in Canada, Bramwell was awarded many distinctions including the Juno Award for Best Classical Composition, the Oskar Morawetz Prize for Excellence in Music Performance and the Academie Lyrique Française Prix d’Or. He was also appointed an honorary Officer of the Order of Canada (OC) for services to music and awarded the Order of Manitoba (OM). Bramwell also received honorary doctorates from the universities of Winnipeg, Manitoba, Kwantien and British Columbia.

Bramwell Tovey was diagnosed with a rare form of sarcoma in May 2019 and underwent surgery at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston in June 2021 which left him briefly cancer-free. In January 2022, scans confirmed a re-occurrence from which he was ultimately unable to recover. He passed away at his home in Barrington, Rhode Island one day after his sixty-ninth birthday. This album is released in his memory.

Roderick Elms © 2024