Ruth Gipps (1921-1999)
Orchestral Works Volume 3
Coronation Procession, Op 41 (1953)
Ambarvalia. A Dance Op 70 (1988)
Concerto for Horn and Orchestra, Op 58 (1968)
Cringlemire Garden. An impression for string orchestra, Op 39 (1952)
Symphony No 1 in F minor, Op 22 (1942)
Martin Owen (horn), BBC Philharmonic / Rumon Gamba
rec. 2022, MediaCityUK, Salford, Manchester, UK
Chandos CHAN20284 [75]
Chandos and Rumon Gamba here bring us the third volume in their survey of orchestral music by Ruth Gipps. I greatly enjoyed the first instalment, which included the Second and Fourth symphonies (review). Though I didn’t review Vol 2, which included the Third symphony, I shared Nick Barnard’s enthusiasm for the disc (review) and subsequently my colleagues and I were impressed by the quality of the Chandos sound on that disc when we auditioned it in the Listening Studio.
With one exception, all the works on this disc were new to me. That exception is the Horn Concerto which I first encountered in David Pyatt’s premiere recording, which was made in 1994, though not released until 2007. I admired the concerto very much then (review) and hearing the present performance has reinforced that admiration. Gipps wrote it for her son, Lance Baker, who gave the first performance. The work is cast in three movements, the middle one of which is a scherzo. Gipps gives her soloist ample opportunities to demonstrate commanding technique yet the work is much more than a display piece. The solo part appears to be very understandingly written for the horn and the orchestral canvass is consistently interesting. In the first movement there’s a good deal of lyrical writing for the solo horn. The most overt display opportunity comes in the cadenza (5:46 – 6:45) but even here the display seems to be mingled with a thoughtful approach. The Scherzo is characterised by light textures; the outer sections are nimble in nature and there’s a more reflective central episode. The finale is very appealing. Strongly rhythmic music vies for the listener’s attention with warmly romantic passages for the soloist and the result is a movement in which I felt there was a strong sense of fun. When I reviewed the Pyatt recording I said that this concerto “cries out to be heard more often”. I don’t know how often that’s happened in concert; there is, though, another recording, which I’ve not heard, made by Ben Goldscheider (review). It’s surely indicative of the quality of the concerto that it has now achieved a third recording. Martin Owen, the principal horn of both the BBC Symphony Orchestra and Britten Sinfonia, is a terrific soloist and he receives ideal support from Rumon Gamba and the BBC Philharmonic. Even if you have one of the earlier recordings, you should acquire Owen’s performance too, not just because it’s such an excellent one but also because by so doing you’ll get to hear a lot more rewarding music by Ruth Gipps.
Cringlemire Garden is one of the two other items on this disc which is not receiving a first recording here ( the other is Ambarvalia). It was included on a CPO disc of British Music for Strings conducted by Douglas Bostock (review). I’ve not heard that CD but I was very glad to encounter this short piece now. Lewis Foreman tells us that the piece, which Gipps subtitled ‘An impression for string orchestra’ was inspired by the Lake District. A softly atmospheric introduction leads to a passage (1:20 – 2:50) where we hear solos for violin, viola and cello which sound as if they are folksong inspired. There’s a livelier central section before the folk-like material returns. This is an unassuming but very appealing short piece which is firmly in the fine tradition of English pieces for string orchestra. It’s sensitively done by the strings of the BBC Philharmonic.
Coronation Procession intrigued me. From the title you might expect, as I did, a Crown Imperial-style march; I was completely wrong. Lewis Foreman tells us in his notes that the piece “is a quite personal evocation of the accumulating of crowds for the Coronation Ceremony on 2 June 1953”. Remarkably, though, he goes on to mention that the score dates from January 1953. So, far from illustrating what she might have seen on Coronation Day, Gipps was anticipating the scene. She evokes plenty of excited hustle and bustle at the start of the piece and then again towards the end. In the middle there’s a gentler interlude which features a winning melody, introduced by flutes (2:55). I learned from Foreman that this melody was the basis for Malcolm Arnold’s Variations on a Theme of Ruth Gipps, Op 122. I’ve not heard that work, though I see it was included on a disc of Arnold works recorded by Richard Hickox and the City of London Sinfonia some years ago (review). At the end of the piece, which here plays for just 7:45, Gipps brings back her ‘big tune’ for a full-orchestra apotheosis as the procession reaches the door of Westminster Abbey (6:11). This is a colourful and imaginative piece.
On a much more intimate scale, Ambarvalia was composed in memory of the composer Adrian cruft. It’s scored for a modest-sized orchestra. Apparently, the title comes from a Roman agricultural fertility rite. The music has the character of a gently swaying dance and, indeed, Gipps gave the piece the subtitle ‘A Dance’. The scoring is discerning; here, the BBC Philharmonic perform it with finesse. Ambarvalia is a delightful, wistful little piece. . Chandos erroneously claim this as a first recording. I’m grateful to my colleague Nick Barnard who drew my attention to its inclusion on a 2019 SOMM Recordings disc which he reviewed.
The most substantial offering on Rumon Gamba’s programme is the premiere recording of Gipps’ First symphony. This was composed during Ruth Gipps’ time as an oboe/cor anglais player with the City of Birmingham Orchestra, which gave the first performance in 1945 under their chief conductor George Weldon. Weldon, it seems, offered Gipps no little encouragement as a composer and specifically he approved of the First symphony (later he also premiered its successor). I learned two interesting facts about the premiere from Lewis Foreman’s booklet essay. Firstly, only did Ruth Gipps play the cor anglais in the premiere of her symphony but also in the same concert she was the soloist in Glazunov’s Piano Concerto. Secondly, Foreman quotes Gipps’ recollection of the premiere during which it appears that one of her colleagues in the orchestra deliberately played his part one bar out of time at one point during the performance. If that was indeed a deliberate act then it was shameful. Sadly, it appears that the BBC were also guilty of misogyny when she submitted the score to the corporation. This performance by the BBC Philharmonic makes handsome, if belated, amends.
The symphony, which here plays for 36:35, is cast in four movements. It’s an impressive piece. The melodic material is consistently interesting; it seems to me that Gipps develops her ideas with assurance; finally, and importantly, her orchestral scoring shows that she really knew how to write, both individually and collectively, for the modern symphony orchestra. The first movement often has a light, airy feel to it but there’s also a definite sense of purpose. I loved the slow movement, which is placed second. The music is beautiful and tranquil; the melodic writing for strings, woodwind and solo horn is memorable. One feels that this movement could only have been written by an English composer. The Scherzo offers excellent contrast because it is energetic and highly mobile. At 1:42 a flute paves the way for an extended and expressive cor anglais solo. That melody is the key feature in the central episode – the Trio, we might say – which is followed (3:27) by a resumption of the quick music. One can’t fail to notice that Gipps gives her own instruments quite a degree of prominence in this movement: the oboe in the outer sections and the cor anglais in the central episode. The finale is the longest movement. There’s a slow introduction which whets the listener’s appetite for the main body of the movement (from 2:35). In what follows we hear a lot of very energetic, melodically attractive music, into which Gipps inserts several short, slower passages, always to good effect. The last couple of minutes of the movement (from 8:53) relax into what Lewis Foreman very rightly terms “a long fade-out”; I like this quiet, reflective conclusion very much.
Ruth Gipps’ First symphony is, I think, a fine achievement; this splendid performance by Rumon Gamba and the BBC Philharmonic shows it in the best possible light.
The recordings have been expertly managed by producer Mike George and engineer Stephen Rinker; the sound has excellent presence and detail. As you’d expect, Lewis Foreman’s booklet essay gives a fine introduction to the composer and the pieces in question.
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this disc. All the music is expertly crafted, highly attractive and, in the best sense of the word, entertaining. Rumon Gamba proves himself, once again, to be a fine advocate for Ruth Gipps’ music and the BBC Philharmonic delivers consistently excellent, incisive performances. I’d like to think that Gamba and Chandos might give us a fourth instalment in this series; both the Violin Concerto (1943) and the Fifth Symphony (1982) remain unrecorded so far as I know.
John Quinn
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