George Lloyd (1913-1998)
A Symphonic Mass (1992)
A Litany (1995)
Janice Watson (soprano), Jeremy White (baritone)
Brighton Festival Chorus (Mass), Guildford Choral Society (Litany)
Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra (Mass), Philharmonia Orchestra (Litany)/George Lloyd
rec. 1993, The Guildhall, Southampton, UK (Mass); 1996, Watford Town Hall, UK (Litany)
Texts included
Lyrita SRCD2419 [2 CDs: 110]
Lyrita are issuing with commendable speed all the recordings of his own music which George Lloyd made; I believe it’s the intention to release everything during 2024. They’ve already issued all twelve of his symphonies in two four-disc sets; these have been appraised by my colleague and fellow Lloyd enthusiast, Jonathan Woolf (review ~ review). The present set includes two substantial choral works which Lloyd composed in the last few years of his life.
I first became acquainted with George Lloyd’s music more than forty years ago. As I related when I reviewed some BBC recordings conducted by Edward Downes, I attended some studio recordings (for broadcast) conducted by Downes in Manchester and I also had the pleasure in taking part, as a member of an amateur orchestra, in what I believe was only the second performance of Lloyd’s delightful Sixth Symphony. He attended our performance and was charming. Lloyd remains best known for his orchestral music. However, the two works in this set prove that his choral music was far from negligible, as does his beautiful Requiem (the fine recording of which Lyrita are issuing, I believe) and his choral/orchestral work, The Vigil of Venus (1980). A recording of the latter work, conducted by the composer, was issued (in 1990) on the Argo label; I don’t know if that recording – the only one, so far as I know – is scheduled to be part of Lyrita’s substantial ‘Signature Edition’.
In the summer of 1990, George Lloyd was invited to conduct the BBC Philharmonic in the first UK performance of his Twelfth Symphony at the Three Choirs Festival, held that year in Worcester. That was an engagement which was to have a significant consequence. I presume that the performance of Lloyd’s symphony was given in the second half of the concert. The composer wrote this in the note accompanying the original Albany release of A Symphonic Mass: “as I waited, in the garden of the East End [of Worcester Cathedral] for my turn, the choir was singing some Delius. The sounds seemed to float from nowhere and blended with a most perfect summer evening; it was a magical moment and I felt that I must try some time to write a choral work with religious overtones”. Lloyd doesn’t specify which Delius work was being performed. However, I spotted in the index to the first edition of Anthony Boden’s Three Choirs. A history of the Festival (review) that the Songs of Farewell were performed at the Worcester Festival that year; if Lloyd heard the sound of that gorgeous music wafting on the summer air, I can imagine it would have made a profound impression. He began work on A Symphonic Mass later that year, finishing it in autumn 1992. The first performance was given at the Brighton Festival in May 1993 by the same forces who made this premiere recording some six weeks later.
A Symphonic Mass is a work conceived on a grand scale. It’s long – this performance plays for 60:44 – and it’s scored for substantial forces. The orchestra consists of triple woodwind, four horns, four trumpets, three trombones, euphonium, tuba, harp, celeste, timpani, percussion (four players), strings and organ. A large SATB chorus is required but there is no place for vocal soloists.
There is no question that this is anything other than a concert work. For one thing, Lloyd revisits musical material during the course of the six movements; that’s especially the case with a theme that is first heard during the opening movement, at the words ‘Christe eleison’. Also, Lloyd admitted that an attraction of setting the text of the Latin Mass was that “the words can be repeated a dozen times without anyone noticing”. That’s a refreshingly candid admission, though I have to say that I did wonder at times if phrases of text were being repeated just a bit too much; occasionally, greater concision would have been beneficial, I feel. I may as well get out of the way now another reservation I have about A Symphonic Mass. The orchestra plays as important a part in the scheme of things as does the choir, and the scoring is consistently inventive and interesting; colour is used with great imagination. However, there were times when I felt that Lloyd throws everything but the kitchen sink into climaxes, not least the percussion. In particular, the side drum part seems excessively prominent at times; it was only later, when I looked up the scoring online, that I discovered that Lloyd requires two side drums.
The Kyrie contains a great deal of dramatic writing for the chorus; within a couple of minutes, I’d scribbled in my notes that the choir was being challenged in terms of their stamina. That said, here and elsewhere there are lots of occasions when the choir sings at a quiet volume – though without sacrificing intensity. It’s noticeable that, for all the drama in the movement, it has a subdued conclusion. The Gloria follows a similar trait; there is a good deal of drama but also passages of reflection and poetry. I like the way that Lloyd brings the movement to a quiet, mysterious close. His approach to setting the text of the Credo is somewhat unconventional at times – and none the worse for that. As an example, the movement begins not with confident, affirmative music but, rather, with a slow, rapt music which only “winds up” over time. Again, while ‘Crucifixus’ is set to bare, dramatic music, illustrative of the horror of the event, ‘Et resurrexit’ is not the conventional outburst of joy. Instead, Lloyd sets those words to music that expresses a sense of quiet wonder. Though there is affirmation in much of what follows, yet again Lloyd ends the movement in a hushed fashion.
There follows a short orchestral movement, ‘Offertorium’. I think this is a clever, pragmatic device on Lloyd’s part, not least because it gives his choir a much-needed rest. It also affords the audience a good contrast; after the intensity of the preceding music, listeners get a chance to draw breath and experience a brief, attractive interlude. The Sanctus and Benedictus are combined in a single movement. The Sanctus is, at first, light and relaxed in mood but the ‘Hosanna’ builds to a mighty climax. After this, a gentle, flowing Benedictus is introduced by the ladies of the choir. Thereafter, though, Lloyd returns to some of the words and music of the Sanctus, building to a substantial climax before we hear again a fine, extended melody which had played a significant role in the Credo. This paves the way for a further mighty and extended climax (‘Hosanna’). This is one of the occasions where I feel the climax is significantly overdone; indeed, I wonder if the movement as a whole might have been more effective had the composer curtailed it after setting the Benedictus. In his excellent booklet essay, Paul Conway rightly says of the Agnus Dei that it is “tranquil and heartfelt, with the valedictory feel of a postlude or Epilogue”. It’s noticeable, though, that the words ‘miserere nobis’ almost invariably occasion an increased intensity whenever they occur.
I’ve expressed a couple of reservations about A Symphonic Mass but in most respects it’s a most interesting and admirable work. It’s a huge sing for the choir – the Brighton Festival Chorus acquit themselves admirably – and, if I’m honest, there were times when I would have welcomed the contrast provided by solo voices: I wonder why Lloyd eschewed soloists; I presume he wished to put the focus firmly on the choir, which he certainly achieves. The performance is very convincing indeed. I mentioned earlier that the same forces had given the work’s premiere just a few weeks before making this recording: it shows; the performance sounds ‘run in’. The composer obtains committed, often urgent, playing and singing. As I said, this is definitely a concert work; however, one should not doubt the composer’s intentions. It’s been quite a while since I listened to my copy of the original Albany disc and it was only after completing my listening to this reissue that something made me consult the Albany booklet, which contains a note by George Lloyd. In it he writes that “although I no longer attend any church I am very much a believer”. That sincerity of thought is very apparent in A Symphonic Mass and in this recording.
In 1995, George Lloyd responded to a commission by the Guildford Choral Society with another substantial choral/orchestral work. In A Litany he set twelve stanzas of poetry by the metaphysical English poet, John Donne (1571/2 – 1631). Donne’s poem actually comprises twenty-eight stanzas but, wisely, Lloyd did some substantial pruning. Even so, the result is a large-scale work which here plays for 49:30. The orchestral forces are not quite so extravagant as those in A Symphonic Mass but they’re still large: triple wood wind, horns and brass, timpani, percussion (just two players this time), harp and strings. On this occasion, Lloyd included crucial parts for solo soprano and baritone. Apparently, these were written specifically with the voices of Janice Watson and David Wilson-Johnson in mind. They sang in the premiere, which took place in March 1996, but for the recording sessions a week later, the baritone solo role was taken by Jeremy White. With that one exception, the forces on this recording are the ones who gave the first performance.
The work is divided into four movements. The first of these, which sets two stanzas of poetry, is for baritone and chorus. A good deal of the music is underpinned by dotted rhythms which, together with the dramatic nature of much of the writing, conveys the sense of a funeral march. Here we experience the benefit of textural contrast that a solo voice can bring to the proceedings – Jeremy White does very well – though the chorus also makes a most effective contribution. The second movement sets verses three and four. In the first of these, the baritone is prominent. The music is swift and the highly imaginative orchestration often suggests the turbulence of gusts of wind. At 2:12 the soprano sings for the first time. She has the fourth verse of poetry and Lloyd sets this to much calmer music which is rather lovely; Janice Watson’s singing is most engaging. At 6:14 Lloyd returns to the fast music; the full forces combine to sing both verses of poetry. The third movement sets just one stanza. It’s set for a cappella choir and thereby it provides an important contrast with all the preceding music. The stanza in question consists of lines in thanksgiving to the Virgin Mary; Lloyd’s music is suitably chaste at first, though there’s fervour later on. The music is very effective, not least because the nature of the writing is such that the words, as well as the various choral lines, can be clearly heard.
The fourth movement is significantly longer than the others and sets no fewer than seven stanzas. The opening pages are characterised by great energy; the music is fast and rhythmically taut. A key moment arrives at 9:03 with an impassioned exclamation to Christ from the soprano soloist (‘Deliver us from death by dying’) in which she’s soon joined by the baritone. The urgency soon returns and the music drives on to a huge climax in which all the forces are united (‘Deliver us…’). When Lloyd reaches the last of his chosen stanzas, the full forces are deployed and there’s an increasing sense of ecstasy in the music; the imposing conclusion to the work is crowned by two stratospheric high notes from the soprano soloist, singing at full power.
Though I collected a lot of recordings of George Lloyd’s music when they were first issued, A Litany is a piece that has eluded me until now, but I’m glad I’ve now heard it. It’s an impressive piece. Once again, as in the Mass, the vocal writing – for soloists and for the chorus – is challenging, not least in terms of the stamina required. I think the vocal writing is effective and, if anything, Lloyd’s response to the text he is setting is even more acute that was the case in the Mass. It’s hard to imagine that the music could be better served than by this impassioned performance under the composer’s direction. Again, I think we benefit from the fact that the recording was made hot on the heels of the first performance and by largely the same performers.
The recording of A Symphonic Mass was engineered by Harld Barnes and Alan Mosley; for A Litany Tony Faulkner was in the control room. Both recordings are very good. Lyrita’s presentation is admirable: Paul Conway’s booklet essay is predictably excellent.
Anyone who likes the music of George Lloyd should hear these fine recordings, especially if you only know his purely orchestral music.
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