Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934)
Symphony No 1 in A flat, Op 55
Symphony No 2 in E flat, Op 63
Hallé / Sir Mark Elder
rec. live, 30 September, 2021 (Op 55); 23-25 October, 2018 (Op 63), Bridgewater Hall, Manchester
Hallé CDHLD7564 [2 CDs: 114]
At the time of writing this review (in early April 2024), it’s only a matter of weeks until Sir Mark Elder steps down from the post of Music Director of the Hallé. He was appointed to the role in 1999 and his final concert, on June 1 will include Mahler’s Fifth Symphony and the European premiere of a new choral work, commissioned by the Hallé from Sir James MacMillan: Timotheus, Bacchus and Cecilia. To mark the end of this distinguished and successful partnership, the orchestra has released on its own label these performances of the two Elgar symphonies. There are already Elder accounts of both works in the Hallé catalogue but readers should note that this set is not a reissue of those recordings; these are new versions.
During his long tenure in Manchester, Sir Mark Elder has, very rightly, not been shy of performing repertoire that was also associated with the most illustrious of his predecessors, Sir John Barbirolli. Among much else, he’s given us fine cycles on CD of the symphonies of Vaughan Williams and of Sibelius (though to my regret I don’t think he ever turned his attention to Kullervo; with his operatic pedigree I think he’d have made a fine job of this early dramatic symphony). Like Barbirolli, he’s done a great deal of Elgar, though his approach to the music has been different to that of ‘Glorious John’. Importantly, he’s ranged more widely among Elgar works: to the best of my knowledge, Barbirolli never conducted The Apostles, The Kingdom, The Spirit of England or The Music Makers; Elder has been an outstanding interpreter of all those great works. How fitting, then, that as his time in Manchester draws to a close, Elder should return to Elgar on disc.
Elder’s first recording of the A-flat symphony was set down in September 2001 (review); it was issued in 2003 as one of the very first releases on the orchestra’s label. This new version was made almost 20 years to the day later. We are told that the performance was given under Covid restrictions. Precisely what constraints that placed upon the musicians is unclear; perhaps the players were at a greater distance than usual from each other? An audience was certainly present, as we can tell from the vociferous ovation at the end. The comparisons which I made with the 2001 performance suggest to me that the interpretation has not altered radically – there’s no reason why it should – but here and there Elder allows himself perhaps just a little more space, though without impeding the music’s flow. However, I think there’s a noteworthy difference.
The 2001 recording was made when Elder’s relationship with the orchestra was in its early days. By 2021 they knew each other so much better. More relevantly, by then they had developed a really significant Elgar tradition together; they had played his music in countless concerts and, by my reckoning, this present release is their 13th Elgar album; that’s a joint experience that money can’t buy and I think it shows in this new recording. As an example, I’d cite the tender closing pages of the Adagio third movement (from 9:14 on the new recording). In 2001, the Hallé produced excellent playing in these closing minutes of the movement. By 2021, ‘excellent’ has been replaced by ‘outstanding’: the orchestra moves and breathes as one and they make Elgar’s music a deeply moving experience.
Revisiting the 2001 recording and comparing it with this newcomer makes me realise that when I reviewed the earlier recording I was unfair to Elder in one important respect. In discussing the first movement, I wrote this: “The opening motto theme is nicely delivered but the main allegro doesn’t quite surge forward as does Barbirolli’s 1956 studio reading…” In fact, though I haven’t gone back to the Barbirolli recording this time, I now feel that the start of the allegro is very well done in both of Elder’s recordings. His 2021 tempo is urgent and exciting – and in 2001 both the tempo and, I now realise, the effect – were similar. I’m happy to stand corrected. In all respects, Elder’s new traversal of the first movement is a conspicuous success. His pacing is adroit, the orchestra brings out all the brilliance in Elgar’s writing, and the way the many tempo modifications are negotiated seems just right to me. The playing – and the recording – allows us to hear the glorious confidence of Elgar’s way with the orchestra; what a joy it is to hear the music played in this fashion! Where Elgar requires it, the music swaggers excitingly but even more impressive are the many little nuances in the music. In particular, the last few minutes (from 19:07 onwards) are delivered with great sensitivity. This passage was very well done in 2001 but this new performance is even more daringly expressive.
The Scherzo brims over with energy and the trio material is played lightly and with a sense of fun. The transition to the Adagio is seamless, paving the way for Elgar’s great slow movement in an ideal way. What a stroke of genius it was for Elgar to transform so miraculously the scurrying violin theme from the start of the Scherzo into the beautiful first subject of his Adagio! The present performance is spacious and serene; the Hallé strings offer particularly rich and expressive playing, though the response of the entire orchestra is very fine. Throughout, the music is given the singing, glowing quality that it so deserves. The last few minutes (from 9:14, where Elgar brings in a tender reference to the motto theme) are played with seemingly effortless eloquence and the hushed coda (from 11:45) is conducted and played with great subtlety.
Elder and his players are reluctant to break the slow movement’s spell; they make the opening of the finale very mysterious. This is another passage where I think there’s an improvement on the very good 2001 rendition. The main Allegro bursts forth with spirited energy (2:30). In this movement Elgar subjects his main theme to wonderfully inventive treatment; there’s such compositional virtuosity to admire, not least that marvellous passage (from 6:50), where the violins sing the theme broadly while the harps ripple away underneath with horns and woodwind providing lovely countermelodies. Elder and the Hallé do full justice to this passage and, indeed, to the whole movement. Eventually, with a sense of compelling logic, the motto theme returns in triumph; everything seems so right at this point.
This is a marvellous, idiomatic performance of the symphony in which Elder and the Hallé are right on top of their game.
Elder’s first recording of the Second symphony was made in 2003. On that occasion, the venue wasn’t the Bridgewater Hall; instead, the sessions took place in the BBC’s Studio 7 in the Corporation’s New Broadcasting House (which they have since vacated). This was one of the few Elder recordings of Elgar’s music that I didn’t receive for review (though I bought the disc). Looking back, I am intrigued to find quite a pronounced difference of well-reasoned opinion between the two colleagues who appraised it for MusicWeb. Bob Briggs liked it very much (review) but John Phillips was less impressed (review). For what it’s worth, I lean more towards Bob’s view.
I liked Elder’s new (2018) performance very much. Like the First symphony, this performance was recorded live in concert. The big first movement is a complex creation which seems to catch Elgar in a variety of moods. At one extreme is the opulence and confidence that permeate the very opening and a number of other passages. On the other hand, though, Elgar often slows the pace and takes us into episodes of introspection (for example from 8:00 to 9:14). I can imagine that some listeners may feel that Elder lingers a bit too much in some of these introspective passages; all I can say is that his way with the music – whether introvert or extrovert – works for me. I think a crucial difference between the 2003 and 2018 performances lies in the respective recordings. The sound produced in the BBC studio is the more immediate of the two, whereas the 2018 sound, emanating from the acoustic of a bigger hall, allows more space round the music. Thus, for instance, in the episode I’ve just referenced from 8:00 onwards, the recording itself – and the quality of the playing – conveys a bit more magic in 2018 than was the case in 2003.
In the slow movement this extra degree of space around the orchestra’s sound again benefits the 2018 performance. Elder and his orchestra gave a fine performance of this patrician elegy in 2003, but in 2018 their performance seems to me to have an additional degree of dignity and depth of feeling. Steve Portnoi’s 2018 recording is skilfully balanced so that the greater acoustic space, which is welcome, doesn’t mean that there’s any loss of subsidiary detail below and around Elgar’s noble melodies; quite the reverse, in fact. A highlight of this movement is the episode (from 7:54) where the oboe plays a moving threnody as a countermelody to the main theme: the Hallé’s principal, Stéphane Rancourt doesn’t disappoint, playing his solo in a restrained but eloquent fashion that makes the passage very affecting. This slow movement is one of Elgar’s most inspired creations; Elder and the Hallé do it really well.
Much of the third movement shows Elgar at his virtuoso best, not least in terms of brilliant, exciting orchestration. But what are we to make of the extraordinary passage (4:57 – 6:11) where Elgar brings back a theme from the first movement and gradually invests it with power verging on menace? It’s impressively done in this performance. The end of the movement is a choice example of dazzling, flamboyant orchestral writing, which Elder and his players bring off thrillingly. Without any introduction, Elgar launches his finale with a rolling, equable melody. Elder unfolds this melody and all the material that follows it with complete understanding. In the contrapuntal development section, all the various orchestral lines can be clearly heard as part of a great musical tapestry. Eventually, the movement appears to be building to an opulent, extrovert conclusion until Elgar unexpectedly pivots away and causes the music to wind down along a much more introverted, thoughtful path. The quiet return of the movement’s main theme (13:27), followed by a reprise of the ‘Spirit of Delight’ motif from the first movement, usher in an autumnal coda which always puts me in mind of the wonderful, glowing last few minutes of Brahms’ Third (one of Elgar’s favourite works, I believe). In these final pages Elder and the Hallé convey the lingering wistfulness of Elgar’s music with great sensitivity, setting the seal on a very fine performance of both the movement and the symphony as a whole. There’s great applause at the end, which is unsurprising, given the quality of the music and performance that the audience has just experienced.
For whatever reason, it’s been several months since I heard either of these masterly symphonies. These performances by Mark Elder and the Hallé have come as a welcome reminder of the stature of each of these scores. In both symphonies we can hear what a formidable partnership Elder and his orchestra have forged together over the years. The earlier recordings of both symphonies were very good but I think that these later versions surpass them artistically because the relationship between conductor and orchestra – and their collective understanding of Elgar’s music – has audibly matured.
The other reason why I think these new recordings have the edge over the earlier versions is the recorded sound. I’ve already commented on the difference – as I hear it – between the two recordings of the Second symphony. The new recording of the First also represents an advance. I thought that the sound on the 2001 performance was good – I still do – but when I listen to the 2021 version there seems to be a greater depth to the sound; it seems warmer to me and at the same time even more detail comes through. Perhaps this should not surprise us. The Bridgewater Hall was only opened in late 1996 and possibly by 2001 neither the musicians nor the engineers had settled to it to quite the degree that had become the case by 2021. Furthermore, the producer/engineer Steve Portnoi, who was not involved in the 2001 recording, had many recordings of the Hallé in this hall under his belt by 2021.
In summary, even if you have the earlier recordings in your collection I would urge you to hear these new versions.
The booklets for the earlier discs were graced by notes written by the late Michael Kennedy. This latest release has an excellent essay by Andrew Burn. He not only describes the music very well but also, very relevantly, discusses the role of the great conductor Hans Richter as an early champion of Elgar’s music, not least with the Hallé Orchestra, of which he was Principal Conductor from 1899 to 1911. These distinguished recordings offer further proof of the Elgarian legacy in Manchester which can be traced from Richter, through the Barbirolli era right through to Sir Mark Elder’s tenure with the Hallé.
As I said, this new release marks the conclusion of Elder’s time as Music Director of the Hallé. I hope it won’t be the end of their discography together. It would be nice to think there might be some other recordings ‘in the can’ which may be issued in the future: their notable performance of Bruckner’s Eighth, given in March, would be a good place to start.
John Quinn
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