Karl Leister pays a visit: diary of a memorable weekend

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column – an invitation that I found both humbling and daunting! The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in March 2007 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

I picked up the eminent clarinettist Karl Leister from Luton Airport very late on Friday night. It was cold and windy and, as expected, the flight was delayed. We arrived home well after midnight, but Karl was full of life and determined to chat well into the small hours. We spoke of practice – eight to ten hours a day were no stranger to the young Karl. (I’d never topped about four!) Karl also showed me the artwork for his latest CD: a set of seven of Lefèvre’s delightful sonatas (edited by myself and John Davies) which should be appearing in the next few months on the Camerata label. And we spoke about John Davies, whose forthcoming birthday had really inspired this visit. (John had often invited Karl to give masterclasses when he was senior clarinet professor at the Royal Academy of Music, and they had become great friends.) 

On Saturday, four of my pupils came to work with Karl. A lifetime of extraordinary musical experience has made him one of the greatest of masterclass leaders. I’m sure we’ve all sat through many such events. Sometimes the ‘master’ has interesting points to make, sometimes not. Sometimes the master can relate to the students, sometimes not. Sometimes the master likes simply to show off or tell stories – neither of which are of much help to the students, entertaining though this might be. But Karl is a true master of the art. No information is surplus to requirements. He is helpful, supportive, inspirational, and very much to the point. There is no doubt he has thought hard and deeply about music, repertoire and the art of clarinet playing. We had Debussy and Spohr, Mozart and Weber: all solid stuff, with Karl suggesting a new way forward for some phrase, or a particularly apt metaphor to provide deep insight into some colour or character. Karl’s views on technique too are very creative and we discussed many fascinating fingerings and styles of articulation. An occasional demonstration in his inimitable style helped underpin a point. These were never laboured or over-done. Ben, the youngest of my pupils, played the third movement of the Reger A Flat Sonata. This is a real favourite of mine (and perhaps the sonata I’ve performed most often). Karl was particularly excited about this. Like Karl, I’ve never understood why people don’t play the Reger Sonatas more often. Yes they do need a good pianist, but they are by no means turgid and heavy-going – the unhappy reputation they seem to have acquired. 

In the evening we met up with a conductor friend of mine and went out for a meal and to chat, predominantly, about Karajan. All pupils having now left, Karl indulged himself in a night of fascinating story-telling about his many years with the Berlin Philharmonic, working with great conductors (their foibles and idiosyncrasies) and his exceptional experience of music-making at the highest levels. 

Karl wanted something special to play for John’s birthday on Monday so on Sunday I was up at the crack of dawn composing a celebratory duet! As well as my new duet, Karl decided he’d like to play a couple of pieces with piano. So I introduced him to my new collection of repertoire pieces just published by Oxford University Press – Music Through Time Book 4; all pieces, as yet, unperformed! First of all we decided on an arrangement I’d made of the lovely Mendelssohn Song Without Words Op. 67 No.2. 

And so to the second choice: to my considerable amazement, Karl chose a work of mine from this collection – perhaps my most frivolous piece yet: Fantastical Micro-variations on a theme by Mozart (the theme in question being the first subject of the Clarinet Concerto). In this outrageous piece, Mozart’s wonderful tune is paraded somewhat roguishly and irreverently through a number of shocking disguises – as a can-can, a tango, a beguine, a celestial ‘Star Trek’-like variation … the list goes on. It caught Karl’s sense of humour and I was very pleased to find that he, of all people, was happy at this seeming lack of respect for the great master! 

On the Monday we lunched with John Davies and his family in Kew before rehearsing for our short performance – a duet and two accompanied pieces: all world premieres! I felt reasonably secure in the duet (particularly as I’d written it), but accompanying the great Leister (as very much a second-study pianist) gave me cause for concern. However, we performed to our select audience and all went well. John was delighted, and the following birthday meal (including Karl leading at least three choruses of ‘Happy Birthday’) made for a memorable weekend indeed!

A festival and a quintet

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column. These personal reflections are now reprinted with his permission. The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in December 2006 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

For clarinet players, the first Malcolm Arnold Festival last month was a veritable feast. Originally it was to have celebrated Malcolm’s 85th birthday but, as readers will know, sadly he died just weeks before the big day. So instead it became a celebration of his life. The BBC in its television tribute called Malcolm a ‘towering figure in twentieth century British music’. Indeed he was, and with his death a re-assessment has already begun. Arnold is now spoken of alongside Elgar, Britten and Walton, which is where he belongs. I last saw him only a week and a half before his death. He was in sprightly form and I felt confident he would see his way happily to his ninetieth birthday (his father lived to 92!). But a severe chest infection caused a very sudden and speedy demise.

So to the Festival, which began with wonderful performances by a young wind quintet of the Quintet Op. 2 and the Shanties. Each member also played their respective Fantasy for solo wind instrument, which were written for a 1966 competition commissioned by the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. Each is a gem, the clarinet Fantasy displaying all sorts of colourful gymnastics. In the vocal recital we had a performance of the early song, Beauty Haunts the Woods, for voice, clarinet and piano. A setting of words by Malcolm’s very talented elder sister Ruth, this poignant and evocative song found its way to the hearts of the large and very enthusiastic audience.

The evening saw the inaugural Malcolm Arnold Concerto Prize. Both clarinet concertos were performed alongside the two for Flute, for Oboe and French horn. What an evening it was! All six young soloists performed with terrific commitment. It was an unenviable task for the judges: Julian Lloyd Webber, Emma Johnson, David Mellor and Piers Burton Page. In the event Tim Orpen’s performance of the Second Clarinet Concerto was runner-up to Prema Kesselman’s performance of the Second Flute Concerto. I’ve no doubt we shall be hearing a lot more of Tim. His virtuosity was stunning and he had written his own extremely demanding and highly characteristic cadenza. Arnold would have loved it. 

The second day was full of concerts and talks – including a very moving one from Sir Malcolm’s daughter, Katherine. The Festival ended with a gala concert given by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra including the wonderful Eighth Symphony (which had been commissioned and first performed by the Albany Symphony Orchestra of New York). A second Festival is being planned for next October – more news soon.
Among the many new Arnold CDs being issued, I’d like to draw your attention to a delightful collection of his chamber music, much of it recorded for the first time. It includes the Sonatina and also the Scherzetto for clarinet and piano (written as part of the film score for the 1953 comedy You Know What Sailors Are and especially for Jack Thurston, who Malcolm always booked for his film sessions). It is played here scintillatingly by Linda Merrick. Beauty Haunts is also included. A must for fans! (Maestro Sound and Vision MSV0214CD.)

You’ll all know the name Arthur Benjamin in connection with the Jamaican Rumba and of course the wonderful Tombeau de Ravel. But you may not have known that he also wrote a clarinet quintet and, intriguingly, it has recently re-surfaced. It is a student work written while Benjamin was still a pupil of Charles Stanford at the Royal College of Music. He wrote it, together with a Scherzo in B minor (lost at present), for clarinettist and fellow student René Caprara, who played first clarinet in the college orchestra. Benjamin was delighted and enthused by Caprara’s sound, writing of its ‘singularity as unique as Caruso’. (Caprara was born into a circus family, gave up playing quite early in life and later became head of South African Radio.)

Benjamin’s quintet is cast in three movements: the first is dramatic with perhaps a hint of Elgar; the lyrical second movement is inspired texturally by the integrated approach of Reger rather than the more soloistic Brahms; and the third movement has a scherzo feel to it. My friend, the clarinettist Chris Swann is presently working at the score and hoping to prepare it for publication in the not-too-distant future. It will certainly be another fascinating addition to the repertoire.

 

A blissful day

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column. These personal reflections are now reprinted with his permission. The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in September 2006 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

July 19th was always going to be a special day: it was the Queen’s 80th birthday Prom at the Royal Albert Hall, and there was to be something rather exceptional in the programme. But let’s go back a few hours. I had already been examining in London for a few days so, unusually, had my overnight bag with me. (‘Why mention the bag?’ you may be thinking … all will be revealed later, for it was to become something of a considerable nuisance.) Lunch was at the Royal College of Music where I met up with Director and eminent clarinettist, Colin Lawson. From Kensington I travelled across London to meet the concert pianist Marguerite Wolff for tea (I don’t do this kind of thing every day!). Marguerite was a great friend of Arthur Bliss and, among the many topics of conversation touched on, we discussed his contribution to the clarinet literature. The Two Nursery Rhymes (for voice, clarinet and piano) are delightful and his quintet is a real treasure. But my own favourite is the gorgeous Pastoral, written in 1916. Did you know that it is the second of two pieces? The first, a Rhapsody, remains unpublished. It was written for Kennard Bliss, Arthur’s brother, tragically killed in action in 1916 at the Battle of the Somme, but evidently a very gifted clarinettist and musician. And there is also an unpublished Trio for clarinet, cello and piano of 1907 (also written for Kennard and his other brother, Howard). Where are these tantalising works now? I shall be doing some detective work, so watch this space!

Time was getting on and I had to get back to Kensington, as another Bliss was waiting in the wings. I thought that I’d arrived at the Albert Hall in good time but the queues were very much longer than usual, due of course to the presence of the Queen – security was a good deal tighter than normal. And I had my overnight bag. Oh dear! By the time I had reached the entrance it was already getting perilously close to seven-thirty. A thorough search through the bag (pens, exam papers mixed up with my toothbrush) eventually revealed a small shaving mirror. ‘You can’t take that in I’m afraid sir,’ I was told (politely but firmly by the police officer). ‘Why ever not?’ ‘It’s glass – potentially a weapon.’ So I had to leave it under a shelf by the entrance. ‘It may still be here when you leave.’ (It wasn’t.)

Finally I managed to get in and find my seat, just by Christopher Finzi and his wife Hilary du Pré. The first work in the programme was a new commission for the occasion by Master of the Queen’s Music, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies. Appropriately grand, it was written for large orchestra, large choir and a set of trumpeters from the Household Cavalry dressed in their ceremonious best, tassels and breast-plates gleaming as they contributed their fanfares and alarums to the piece. But the next item held the most interest for me: Mozart’s concerto played by Julian Bliss on the basset clarinet. And what a splendid, magical performance it was – refined and understated, delicate and elegant. I sat there remembering the very first performance of Julian’s I had witnessed. At the age of four he bounced on to a small stage at the Watford Festival where I was adjudicating, and played Pierrot from the First Book of Clarinet Solos. It was amazing. ‘This lad will go far’, I had said to the assembled gathering. And indeed he had. There was a poise and an effortless confidence about both those performances. The audience at the Albert Hall was delighted and applauded warmly. Julian met the Queen afterwards. She knows her instruments; ‘That’s not your usual clarinet’, she remarked perceptively, and Julian explained the difference between his usual clarinet and the basset clarinet he was playing. We all went out for a meal later although the Queen, disappointingly, had made other arrangements. I arrived home in the small hours (minus the shaving mirror) and reflected on a remarkable (dare I say, blissful) day.

A host of octogenarians!

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column. These personal reflections are now reprinted with his permission. The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in May 2006 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA. 

The audience at Gervase de Peyer’s eightieth birthday concert at the Wigmore Hall in London last month were treated to a staggering display of clarinet playing. It was a big programme to say the least – even the most energetic of players would have thought twice about taking on quite so much in one evening! But de Peyer gave us both Mendelssohn Concert Pieces; the Schumann Trio; Bartok’s Contrasts; a movement from the beautiful Bliss Quintet; two movements of the Schubert Octet; the Ponchielli duo and, perhaps the piece that de Peyer is best known for, the Horowitz Sonatina, written for him in 1981. Jo Horowitz was there too – also, coincidentally, celebrating his eightieth birthday this year. And what a performance it was. Gervase de Peyer still has all the verve, wit and imagination necessary to bring off a scintillating performance (I don’t think I’ve ever heard the final movement performed so fast!). Quite a cast of players were assembled for the event – William Waterhouse, another member of the original Melos Ensemble was playing, as well as Robin Ireland, son of Patrick Ireland, another original Melos player. It was a memorable evening.
On a more sombre note, Professor Sir Nicholas John Shackleton was very sadly only sixty-nine when he died in January. His memorial service, held at Great St Mary’s Church in Cambridge on 6th May, was well attended and demonstrated the warmth and high regard in which he was held by both the scientific and clarinet worlds. Professor Elderfield gave a tribute about his scientific achievements and William Waterhouse spoke of his musicianship and skill as a collector of clarinets – perhaps his greatest achievement. Evidently Nick’s wonderful collection will go to the Reid Concert Hall Museum of Instruments in Edinburgh, though a few of his playing instrument may go elsewhere, possibly to the Royal College of Music.At the memorial, the Clare College Choir sang beautifully and Alan Hacker led a clarinet quartet in some of Nick’s favourite music. I last met Nick at the clarinet’s 300th birthday celebrations in Berlin last year, where he impressed me deeply with his extraordinary knowledge of the instrument and its history. Happily he has left a rich cache of scholarly articles and chapters on his subject from which we all can benefit. 

As well as marking some important octogenarian birthdays this year, 2006 also sees the fiftieth anniversary of the death of the great English composer Gerald Finzi. A very readable and warm-hearted new biography entitled Gerald Finzi – his life and music by Diana McVeagh has just published, and is a must for all Finzi fans. I thought it would be nice to take a pupil, Charlotte Swift, to play the concerto to Kiffer Finzi (Gerald’s son) who still lives in the sprawling farm at Ashmansworth in the Newbury Hills, built by Gerald in 1939. Charlotte gave a lovely performance to a small audience in Gerald’s old study, her accompanist using the same piano that the composer had tried out his original ideas on some fifty-seven years ago. At the end of the performance we discussed Gerald’s feelings about the work, and in particular how he disliked an overly sentimental approach. ‘My father never liked those rallentandos to be anything more than just glanced at’, Kiffer commented. In her research, Diana McVeagh uncovered an interesting letter from Gerald to his friend (and fellow composer) Robin Milford in which he writes how pleased he was with the work, and that he’d ‘like to write another clarinet concerto, but saying something completely different’. Alas he never did. Charlotte gave another delightful performance, this time of the Mozart concerto, at the University Concert Hall in Cambridge last Friday and will be playing again at the Malcolm Arnold Festival in October – I do hope to see some of you there.

Another performance of the Mozart concerto will be given at the Royal Albert Hall at a very special Prom this year – at yet another eightieth birthday – this time it’s the Queen’s! And I am thrilled that it will be played by a very distinguished former pupil, Julian Bliss. The concert will begin with a new royal commission A Little Birthday Music from the Master of the Queen’s Music, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, and will conclude with the Dvorak New World Symphony – evidently one of the Queen’s favourites. I hope I may see some of you there too!

Important birthdays

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column – an invitation that I found both humbling and daunting! The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in March 2006 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

You can hardly have missed the fact that this year is Mozart’s 250th birthday. The UK radio station Classic FM held a vote for the nation’s favourite Mozart work, with over a hundred thousand people taking part, and the clear winner was the Clarinet Concerto. As I write, I’m listening to Jack Brymer’s splendid recording with the LSO under Colin Davis. His warm and resonant ten-ten sound and his deep understanding of this music still make it a wonderful performance from which we can learn so much. Listening to this also reminds me of the last time I saw Jack. I was teaching young Julian Bliss and we went to see the grand old man in his home in Surrey. Julian (who must have been about eight at the time) gave a stunning performance of the Rossini Variations, and Jack was delighted! John Davies, a great friend of Jack’s, came too. The two of them reminisced happily. In the late 30s, John had his own jazz band (which played for afternoon tea dances) and he often employed Jack on alto saxophone. (Jack was teaching physical education at Willowfield School in Eastbourne at the time, well before his meteoric rise to fame!) Eight or so years on and Julian has now got many exciting engagements for the Mozart Concerto over the next few months. 
As mentioned in my previous letter, another important birthday this year is of course Malcolm Arnold’s eighty-fifth. I am organising a festival of his music at the Royal and Derngate in Northampton on October 21st and 22nd (Malcolm’s birthday weekend). It all begins with a wind chamber music recital which will include the Wind Quintet and all the solo Fantasies. The first day will end with The Malcolm Arnold Concerto Prize, featuring six of his wind concertos (including both for clarinet). The soloists are all from the six major conservatoires and these should prove to be outstanding performances. The judges will include Julian Lloyd Webber, Emma Johnson and David Mellor (a former politician and now regular broadcaster on Classic FM.) The second day ends with a gala concert given by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (and we’re hoping that one of the Royal family will be attending!). It will include Arnold’s Grand Grand Overture which he wrote for the very first Hoffnung Concert (also celebrating its own 50th birthday!). In the afternoon, Gerard’s widow Annetta Hoffnung will be speaking about the very special musical relationship that Malcolm and Gerard enjoyed. I do hope that some of you will come over for this wonderful event. 

Readers who know the name of Angela Fussell will be saddened to hear that she died a few days ago. Angela was a much respected chairman of the Clarinet and Saxophone Society of Great Britain for a good number of years, and a very thoughtful and highly regarded teacher. She taught at the Junior Department of the Royal College of Music, Colchester Institute and at the famous Eton College. I knew Angela well – we often worked together, most recently in the depths of North Yorkshire at a gathering of the Association of Woodwind Teachers, of which she was chairman. She will be much missed.

...and another Malcolm!

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column – an invitation that I found both humbling and daunting! The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in December 2005 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

I recently gave a performance of the charming Beethoven Trio for clarinet, cello and piano. The combination works well and it’s therefore surprising that so comparatively few composers have seen the potential for the dark brooding colours, passionate melodies and the kind of energy that the three instruments can conjure. There are one or two British works worthy of study: Benjamin Frankel’s Trio Op. 10 is now sadly out of print but available from libraries. (His quintet, written in 1956 for Thea King, is a haunting work. Thea’s recording of it on Hyperion’s collection of English Clarinet Quintets should be in everyone’s library). There is an interesting work (especially for American readers) by the lesser-known Kenneth Leighton: Fantasy on an American Hymn Tune Op. 70, written in 1974 for Gervase de Peyer and published by Novello. 
But the reason I’m taking you down this particular avenue is because a fascinating manuscript has just come into my possession. It did receive a first performance, but has been lost, hidden away in a box in a cupboard for nearly fifty years. It is a Trio for clarinet, cello and piano by Malcolm Williamson, the late ‘Master of the Queen’s Music’ who died in March 2003. Williamson’s life was as colourful as his near contemporary Malcolm Arnold. He wrote symphonies, operas, ballets and a considerable amount of other music in just about every genre (including the music for two Hammer Horror films!). But his name is now virtually forgotten. Clarinet players ought at least to know his Pas de Deux for clarinet and piano; a delicious movement taken from his Pas de Quatre for flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon and piano and published as a ‘stand-alone’ solo. The work was written in 1967 for the Metropolitan Opera Ballet and first performed at the Newport Festival, Rhode Island. 

As far as I know, the Trio was given just one performance at the Aldeburgh Festival in 1958 before it disappeared. The performers were Harrison Birtwhistle (clarinet), John Dow (cello) and Cornelius Cardew (piano). Quite a line up! It is dedicated to Imogen Holst (Gustav Holst’s daughter) and is cast in one continuous movement marked ‘Poco Lento’. Birtwhistle (who studied the clarinet at the Royal Academy of Music with John Davies) must have had some technique, as much of the part is in the highest register (up to top B flats), often as short tongued notes marked down to ppp! Williamson was, at that time, experimenting with serial music; this piece however looks to be firmly rooted in F minor and explores the sonorities of all three instruments in a colourful and imaginative way. It looks a fascinating piece and certainly an intriguing addition to the repertoire.

A slightly later work is the Concerto for Wind Quintet and Two Pianos, composed in 1964 and published by Weinberger. It’s a sturdy work, technically and musically demanding, but very much worthy of performance. Next year is the 75th anniversary of Malcolm Williamson’s birth (he was born on November 21st, 1931) and there are going to be quite a number of performances of his music in the UK. 
On another note, I received a very pleasant package the other day. It was a recording of a voice, clarinet and piano recital given in Kenmore, Washington, by American clarinettist David Frank. He had included Malcolm Arnold’s lovely song Beauty haunts the Woods and my own Clerihew Songs as well as many other works for the combination. And talking of Malcolm Arnold – it’s his 85th birthday next year! I hope many of you will be featuring his music to celebrate this. Do let me know and I shall pass the news on; he’s always absolutely delighted to hear of performances.

Elegance and sophistication - some secret English repertoire

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column – an invitation that I found both humbling and daunting! The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in September 2005 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

When I was at school, one of the most memorable musical events I took part in was a performance of an enormous work by a British composer of whom you may well not have heard. A Time for Growing was positively Wagnerian in its scale – written for orchestra, two choirs, actors, dancers, soloists, speakers and even a large percussion band, it tells the story of The Creation. The performance took place in London’s great Royal Albert Hall, and for me, a mere 14-year-old, it was a quite spectacular experience. The composer was Antony Hopkins (not the actor!), best-known for his 36-year-long stint as a broadcaster here in the UK. In fact his radio programme, Talking about Music, became something of a national treasure. In each episode he would discuss, in simple terms, a piece of music that particularly fascinated him. I had the pleasure of having tea with him a few weeks back, in his highly characterful house in the middle of a very large park just north of Berkhampstead in Hertfordshire. Among his many works there is a very pleasant and well-constructed little Fantasy for Clarinet, written for Gervase de Peyer in 1951. I took my copy with me for Tony to sign and we spoke about the English ‘clarinet character piece’. You’ll know the Finzi Bagatelles of course, and possibly the Dunhill Phantasy Suite and Ferguson Four Short Pieces. But there are many more...

One of my very favourites is Alan Richardson’s Roundelay. Alan, a quiet and thoughtful professor at the Royal Academy of Music, was married to the great oboist Janet Craxton and wrote and arranged a number of pieces for the clarinet. But Roundelay is certainly his most attractive. A short single movement, its charming lyricism is as quintessentially English as you could possibly imagine. Well worth slipping into a recital, or using as a gentle encore piece.
Can you think of a more appropriate title for a short and amiable pastoral miniature than The Wistful Shepherd? Such is the title given by Clarence Raybould to his 1939 reverie for clarinet and piano. It stretches neither the mind nor the technique, but would undoubtedly delight any audience. Raybould was a conductor and something of an eccentric who distinguished himself in the First World War. As a young clarinettist, my teacher, John Davies, remembers being driven about the Welsh countryside by Clarence Raybould on their way to a concert. An experience he recalls many many years later with more than a certain distress! Evidently Raybould was not too reliable behind the wheel, and would happily down a generous number of pints before setting out (well before laws prohibited such recklessness!).

Antony Hopkins’ Fantasy was written in 1951 and is a little more substantial than either of the above works. But not as substantial as Robin Milford’s Lyrical Movement, one of a number of works written for Alan Frank. Alan was in charge of Oxford University Press Music for many years, and the other half of the Thurston and Frank Tutor. Milford, a friend of Gerald Finzi, also wrote a wonderful Phantasy Quintet for clarinet and string quartet. Both the Milford clarinet works should be programmed and heard on a regular basis. They both understand the instrument well and test the player, presenting some musical and technical challenges well worth tackling. Also written for Alan Frank was Herbert Murrill’s Prelude, Cadenza and Fugue. Murrill was Head of Music at the BBC, as well as composing music for films and the concert hall. A pupil of York Bowen and Alan Bush, his music has obvious roots in the English pastoral style, but there is a little more grit to be found in this short and arresting work. 
Moving back to music redolent of the English countryside, there are the four pieces by Frederick Kell (father of player Reginald Kell). They make a splendid set and have indeed been recorded by Verity Butler on the British Composer Series (under the title, Clarinet Kaleidoscope). Finally there is A Truro Maggot by Philip Browne, famously recorded by Thurston in 1937 and available on Clarinet Classics. It’s a very jolly little piece; full of English wit – understated and undemanding, but like all the works I’ve mentioned, brimming with character. 

I hope I may have whetted your appetite for some of these enchanting and, in some cases, slightly more challenging pieces. They deserve to be played, and I would have no hesitation in assuring you of a very favourable audience reaction!
Finally, on the subject of Reginald Kell, I’m delighted to see that many of his wonderful recordings have been re-issued in a bumper six-CD set. Among this treasure trove is the Richardson Roundelay which he plays with his customary sense of timing and rhythmic movement. A pupil of mine was studying the Weber Concertino recently and I therefore looked through my many different editions. I took care not to look at the editor and was delighted to find, after much deliberation, that the one that really got to the heart of the music, as well as closest to Weber’s operatic style, was Kells’.

Some foolish fancies

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column – an invitation that I found both humbling and daunting! The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in May 2005 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

I wonder whether you have a copy of the Temple-Savage Difficult Passages from the Symphonic Repertoire? These three worthy volumes of over five hundred and fifty carefully-selected orchestral excerpts were published by Boosey and Hawkes in 1947. The writer, Richard Temple-Savage, was a pupil of Charles Draper and Jack Thurston and a founder player, alongside the young Jack Brymer, of the Ernest Read Orchestra. He went on to study at the Royal College of Music and then joined the London Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Thomas Beecham as bass clarinet and librarian. His LPO years must have been as rewarding as they were gruelling. Two concerts a day (especially through the war years), often in different parts of the country, inspired him to write his Five Foolish Fancies for a number of his colleagues including Malcolm Arnold, the clarinettist Nick Tschaicov and flute player Richard Adeney. This evidently entertaining work (sadly now lost) – with movements including ‘Overture to a Reluctant Landlady’, ‘Looking for Digs’, ‘No rehearsal’ and ‘No Beer’ – must have cheered his fellow players up no end, as well as being one of the first pieces to make use of such frivolous titles! Nick Tschaicov tells me that ‘Dick’ also wrote him some interesting studies (also lost) and was thought, at the time, of as one of the grand old gentlemen of the orchestra. Later he moved on to the Covent Garden Orchestra where he was also librarian – and thus again surrounded by scores and parts, which must have spurred on the writing of his now famous three volumes. Evidently Boosey and Hawkes were not keen on including parts for the A clarinet, which is why all the ‘A’ excerpts include a transposition for B flat. These very useful books are still available and soon to celebrate their 60th birthday. 
Some very good news concerning my pupil Julian Bliss – following his excellent debut CD for EMI, he has been invited to record exclusively for EMI on their main label. Among his recent adventures, he’s been out to China to play the Nielsen and Mozart Concertos.

You may be horrified by my next announcement! You may consider it an absolute sacrilege or, on the other hand, you may think it practical and timely. Let me keep you in suspense a little longer ... As a teacher I’ve always been tremendously keen to give as many of my pupils as possible the chance to play great music; it lifts their spirits to begin grappling with the major works in the repertoire. And it deepens their musical understanding. Just as one often plays so much better and perceives so much more when sitting next to a superior player in an orchestra, young players respond to the study and performance of master works with a perceptible increase of comprehension and insight. A significant problem with some of these masterworks, however (and I’m thinking of the Sonatas by Brahms and Reger, for example), is that they have formidable piano parts. And this often inhibits performance opportunities, as the number of accompanists able to take on these mammoth pianistic challenges may be few and far between. It’s long been a desire of mine to do something about this, so here’s the revelation: I’m about to publish an edition of the Brahms E Flat Sonata with a much-simplified piano accompaniment.Whether this strikes you with horror or delight, let me explain the process and try to put your mind at rest. Working closely with a wonderful pianist, Benjamin Davey, we have discussed, trialled, re-written and re-trialled until we’ve ended up with a piano part that remains true to Brahmsian sonorities whilst being technically very much easier to play. We’re calling the edition Rehearsal Brahms in the hope that many clarinet teachers (who may have limited pianistic ability) can finally give their pupils a strong taste of the full musical picture and help in beginning to unlock the secrets of this extraordinary work. And in addition it gives young clarinettists the chance to pair up with their pianist friends to play through and work on the piece on their own. But I also suspect that it may be used in performances too – allowing many more players the profound joy of performing Brahms in public. If the edition is met with a positive response we may well have a go at doing the same for one or two more great works. Reactions are welcome!

From Manchester to Berlin

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column – an invitation that I found both humbling and daunting! The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in March 2005 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting up with the composer Alexander (Sandy) Goehr at his house just outside Cambridge. Together with Harrison Birtwhistle, Peter Maxwell-Davies and John Ogden, these composers make up the so-called ‘Manchester Four’; four brilliant students studying together at the Royal Manchester College of Music in the 1940s. Sandy went on, after more studies with Messiaen and Loriod in Paris and a career in teaching, to become highly regarded as Professor of Music at Cambridge University for many years, retiring just a few years ago. Readers with broad musical tastes may know his wonderful Monteverdi Paraphrase for unaccompanied clarinet, but may not be aware of his much earlier Fantasias Op. 3 for Clarinet and Piano. It’s a very difficult serial work but well worth study. The first performance was given by Birtwhistle and Ogden in January 1956 but it was championed by my teacher, John Davies, who also taught Birtwhistle.
John Davies remembers having help with the work from Erwin Stein, a great teacher and authority on serial composition and performance. If you haven’t read his marvellous book Form and Performance, head for your local library! Stein was a little old man at the time, but would dance about the room on his toes, singing and directing the performance. John and his pianist Else Cross (herself a pupil of Webern) went on to give performances all over Europe, as well as the first broadcast performance in May 1958. The three movements last about ten minutes, don’t involve any ‘modern’ techniques, and reap many rewards for the performer who is prepared to put in some really hard work, technically, rhythmically and musically!

Last weekend I went to Berlin for the final event of the tremendously successful Faszination Klarinette exhibition, mentioned in my previous letter. And what an event it was! Karl Leister played both the Mozart and Brahms quintets with the Leipzig Quartet. Karl’s playing is quite sublime – his interpretations at once sophisticated and subtle, his tone uniquely mellifluous and flowing. The five players followed their performance by returning to the stage and taking part in a question-and-answer session with the audience. What a wonderful idea – we ought to do this kind of thing more often. My German meant that about ninety-nine percent of it passed me by – but I enjoyed witnessing the enthusiasm and real interest shown by this very intelligent and clearly informed gathering. After the event, and a chat with Karl, we wandered around the exhibition picking up many exhibits I seemed to have missed first time round; the first edition of Weber’s Quintet, for example, and a catalogue of instruments once belonging to Henry Lazarus. We also explored the museum further, looking at other exhibits – perhaps the most extraordinary being a contra-bass saxophone, which was almost big enough to hide inside! (The kind of noises it might produce are fascinating to imagine!)

As usual, my letter wouldn’t be complete without some Sir Malcolm Arnold news. On a recent visit, Arnold’s carer Anthony Day asked whether I would do a wind octet arrangement of the terrific music for Hobson’s Choice, the wonderful David Lean film starring Charles Laughton and John Mills. There is already an Overture for wind octet – a very effective single movement written in 1942, and the late Wind Octet Op. 137 written for the Manchester Camerata Wind Soloists in 1988. The latter is not one of Arnold’s greatest works, but nevertheless very much worth a look. And I am at present in negotiation with a recording company to make a new CD of all these wind works – so watch this space!

Two launches and a birthday

In the Summer of 2000 I had the great pleasure of meeting James Gillespie, editor of The Clarinet Journal, during the International Clarinet Association (ICA) convention in Oklahoma. James asked me if I would like to contribute a regular column – an invitation that I found both humbling and daunting! The following ‘Letter from the UK’ was first published in December 2004 in The Clarinet Journal, the official publication of the ICA.

It’s certainly been a busy few months since my last letter. The launch of my biography Malcolm Arnold: Rogue Genius was quite an experience, taking place at the Royal Festival Hall in London. Among the two hundred guests were four players from the London Philharmonic Orchestra, class of 1940! And also the clarinettist Nick Tschaikov, who played in very early performances of Arnold’s Three Shanties and the wonderful (and recently re-discovered) Wind Quintet back in 1942. The latter received its first London performance (sixty-two years late!) by a wonderful pupil of mine, Charlotte Swift, and some friends during the launch. In the following concert by the LPO, Julian Bliss gave a masterly performance of Malcolm’s Second Concerto. The spirit of Benny Goodman was clearly with us, although sadly Malcolm himself wasn’t, as he is getting very frail. However I did pay him a visit on his 83rd birthday last week and found him alert and cheerful.

A couple of weeks earlier I was in Berlin to celebrate another birthday; that of the Clarinet, which is 300! Karl Leister and the Musikinstrumenten-Museum were not going to let the occasion go without an appropriate and full-scale celebration. The exhibition and symposium observing this important anniversary was given a wonderful launch on September 30th. My own part in this tremendous event actually began about a year ago. Karl rang me one morning and asked whether I would be willing to write a short piece for the occasion. Needless to say I was honoured to do so. But my short Happy Birthday Clarinet was to have a dual purpose, as the patron of the festival, Alan Hacker, also celebrated his birthday the same day. 

So, a year or so later, I found myself among many distinguished guests assembling in the lower floor of the Museum with its fabulous collection of decorated eighteenth-century harpsichords standing guard over cabinets of historical instruments. The Faszination Klarinette exhibition spans two floors – the lower floor is home to displays of the chalumeau family and the earliest extant examples of the clarinet itself. (There used to be more, but many of these went up in smoke during World War Two.) Here are the few surviving Denner instruments – brought from all around the world, and lovingly cared for. Something that particularly caught my attention was a large chunk of an African Blackwood tree – I’d never seen a clarinet in quite that early stage of evolution before! On the first floor, displays bring us through the nineteenth and into the twentieth century. I was particularly excited to see two examples by Ottensteiner, the maker of Richard Mühlfeld’s instruments. There are also cabinets containing some of the more exotic, and now sadly extinct members of the clarinet family – how disappointing that some of these extraordinary looking devices are no longer entertaining audiences. There is Theodor Lotz’s wonderfully angular Bassetthorn in F; Franz Kruspe’s Bathyphon, looking like something midway between a clarinet and a contra-bassoon; and perhaps most extraordinary of all, Fritz Schüller’s Viertelton-Doppelklarinette – two clarinets in one, with an absolutely awe-inspiring array of complex key-work that makes a standard Boehm system instrument look positively primitive.
The launch ceremony began with Alan Hacker playing two Marches by Telemann on a copy of a Jacob Denner instrument. There were moments when it clearly sounded like the mock-trumpet it was probably meant to. Following this, we heard two more Marches, now on a copy of a Zencker. Alan chose to play them using the high tessitura and the vocal qualities of the instrument were now much more to the fore. A number of speeches followed though frustratingly, my German was not really up to it. Alan himself gave a very engaging and personal account (in English!) of the instrument’s history and then the four members of the clarinet section of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra took up their position on the platform to play my contribution. It is really a set of variations on Happy Birthday and (although it’s an old joke) I’ve tried to metamorphose snippets of all the most well-known clarinet melodies – from Weber to Finzi, Brahms to Stravinsky, by way of Mozart, Hindemith, Poulenc and many others into the famous birthday ode. Of course they played it very well, the audience seemed pleased, and Alan particularly so – it was a complete surprise to him!
More speeches followed and the launch was rounded off by some fantastic jazz. Dan Levinson and his trio played in the style of Benny Goodman and the audience, made up mostly of international clarinet players, applauded delightedly. The exhibition was then officially opened by the Museum’s director, Professor Dr. Conny Restle and the Chief Curator, Heike Fricke and the assembled gathering began enthusiastically investigating the exhibits. There is also a superb accompanying catalogue, beautifully produced. Drinks then followed and there were many wonderful people to chat to. I was particularly excited to meet Dieter Klöcke – a player and teacher for whom I have long had a great regard. The symposium went on for three days and included talks by distinguished members of the clarinet fraternity and concerts given by world-renowned artists in works from Mozart to Stockhausen. It was a wonderfully memorable event. The exhibition itself remains open until the end of February and, if you find yourself anywhere near Europe, it is highly recommended.