Robert Simpson (1921-1997)
Chamber Music Volume 1
String Quartet in D major (1945)
Two Songs: Trocknet nicht! (1942), The Cherry Tree (1940)
Trio for clarinet, cello and piano (1967)
Quintet for clarinet, bass clarinet and three double basses (1981)
rec. 2021-24, various locations, Middlesex, UK (instrumental works); Lehmann Studios, Stuttgart, Germany (songs)
Texts and translations of the songs included in the booklet
Toccata Classics TOCC0701 [74]

This is the first of two discs that Toccata Classics designed to plug gaps in the Simpson discography. Excitingly for us Simpson nuts, a new update on the Robert Simpson Society’s Facebook page mentions recent discussions on possible repertoire for a third such disc. Experience has taught us to be cautiously hopeful rather than confidently expectant. A few years back, the society reported that the dedicatee Susan Milan had at last recorded the composer’s outstanding Flute Concerto in Prague for Divine Art. It is identified on the society’s discography page, and a catalogue number has even been assigned to it, but for some reason it has not yet appeared.

The concerto is arguably the most significant remaining gap in the Simpson canon. Let us, however, analyse the comprehensive list of works included in Donald Macauley’s indispensable, if oddly titled, biography The Power of Robert Simpson (Xlibris 2013). The analysis reveals a few chamber and keyboard works overlooked thus far. There is a 1950 transcription of Carl Nielsen’s mighty late organ work Commotio for piano four hands, and Simpson’s own 1979 sonata for two pianos. A brass quintet from 1989 is mentioned, and intriguingly a couple of incidental music scores, for Ibsen’s The Pretenders (1965) and Milton’s Samson Agonistes (1974). Macauley also mentions an unfinished String Quartet No.16. I have no prior knowledge but I would not be surprised to see some of this repertoire on the second Toccata disc.

For now, one can wholeheartedly welcome this splendid first volume, replete with riches. We get a fascinating string quartet from Simpson’s apprenticeship, and a couple of even earlier songs. There also are two masterpieces from the composer’s maturity: a half-hour trio for clarinet, cello and piano from 1967, and a quirkily wonderful quintet for clarinet, bass-clarinet and three double-basses a piece. The quintet was later rearranged for a more orthodox ensemble of clarinet, bass clarinet and string trio. Joy Farrall, Fiona Cross and the Vanbrugh String Quartet recorded it for Hyperion, along with the fourteenth and fifteenth string quartets on the last of their Simpson chamber music discs (review).

The early unnumbered String Quartet in D minor is an apprentice work; it was submitted as part of the composer’s BMus degree. In accordance with his unassuming nature, Simpson identified it by the simple title ‘Exercise’. (Its startlingly neat opening page is reproduced on the back cover of the disc.) Macauley’s list does not mention it, so I suspect it has been unearthed in the past decade. It is a concise twenty-minute affair in four movements. I can offer three initial observations. Firstly, the quartet anticipates several of the melodic, harmonic and rhythmic features of Simpson’s mature quartets, although the opening movement (a lot of pizzicati and a number of propulsive, motoric devices characteristic of the composer’s mature style) suggests a number of influences, most obviously Sibelius and Beethoven. The initial theme, however, seems to my ears to have a shape and essence similar to the opening of Maurice Ravel’s quartet.

Secondly, the quartet coheres remarkably well for a student work, although much of the part-writing seems to be somewhat sparse, especially in the first movement. And thirdly, the quartet projects a lighter, sunnier tone than Simpson’s mature masterpieces, but temperamentally speaking one can detect in its structure hints of the more serious manner which underpins many of the remarkable works to follow. Whilst this quartet is no lost masterpiece, it is unquestionably significant in giving the composer’s happy band of admirers a clearer appreciation of the roots of the singular Simpson style. The Tippett Quartet offer a vigorous reading of this unfamiliar music, but they are rather closely recorded. I have found the sound markedly warmer in the hi-res stream on my headphones than on the actual disc heard through speakers.

The very idea that Simpson might have written songs seems at odds with his eventual preference for big instrumental works in the classic abstract forms. In the Goethe setting Trocknet nicht!, the word-setting strikes me as rather awkward and gnarly after an extended piano introduction. The Cherry Tree (a setting of A.E. Housman’s immortal Shropshire Lad poem Loveliest of Trees) is earlier but more fluent, convincing and ultimately touching. The German soprano Eva-Maria Hartmann copes better with Goethe’s text. A rather boxy recording slightly dulls the effect of these two fascinating examples of Simpson juvenilia.

It is simultaneously fascinating and discomfiting to hear these early works. One cannot help but speculate how their intermittently irascible creator might have reacted to their eventual exhumation, performance and recording. Fortunately, any dissonance one might feel in this regard is swiftly forgotten when one encounters the two big couplings on this disc. Both are extraordinarily inventive compositions, and both reveal Simpson as more of a colourist than he has hitherto been given credit for.

Take the eerie opening bars of the Trio for clarinet, cello and piano. The space between the fragile high clarinet and grainy low cello suggests the immensity of the spheres and the astronomical phenomena which fascinated the composer throughout his life. It is filled by a fragmented piano phrase, haunting and ethereal. That creates a magical impression, and the material which follows emerges with vigour and inevitability. The scale of the piece might seem inflated given the constitution of its unusual trio, but Simpson has fashioned an exceptional work which combines the profound, the playful and the propulsive. There are some magical passages in the first movement, jazzy flashes for the clarinet, extraordinary unison passages which Emma Johnson and Raphael Wallfisch navigate with extraordinary dexterity. An enigmatic episode at the movement’s centre resembles a musical manifestation of an M.C. Escher painting, whilst its conclusion conveys glacial purity.

The slow central panel is quintessential Simpson; memorable, unhurried ideas, impeccably juxtaposed, add up to far more than the sum of their parts. The spiky, skittish finale takes no prisoners. Tiny motifs, shared among the three players, create seemingly unstoppable momentum. There are intermittent reminiscences of earlier material and ultimately a characteristically gnomic Simpsonian denouement.

All three players show absolute focus and sheer enjoyment (the pianist is the indefatigable John Lenehan). The trio appears to be a really substantial opus. One must wonder why Hyperion excluded it from their invaluable edition. It certainly merits the sublime performance it receives here, and Toccata’s vivid sonics. In its ambition and originality, the trio alone justifies the price of the disc.

Yet Simpson’s quintetfor clarinet, bass clarinet and three double basses proves to be another gem. The musical material may be more familiar (it did appear on that Hyperion disc). Even so, the colours unveiled in the quintet’s original guise are often ravishing, not least in the unprecedented sounds of the opening bars which feature the three basses in their highest register. A note in the booklet refers to “Simpson remark[ing] gleefully to Martin Anderson [the Toccata Classics owner] that [the quintet] began with the basses playing above the clarinets”. Indeed, this texture seems completely novel, and it suits the material wonderfully. Donald Macauley also quotes from a letter which Simpson wrote during the quintet’s composition: “At the moment I’m on the weirdest thing I’ve ever tried […] it’s a bit of a challenge, but it’s rather got a hold of me, I must say!” In another letter the composer joked that the quintet was “incomparably the greatest work ever composed for this combination!”

In formal terms, the quintet’s two outer slow movements bookend a central Allegro. The opening Adagio tranquillo derives from the strange oscillations of a rising motif in the clarinets. Yet in this original iteration of the work the resonance and probing depth of the basses adds an immersive darkness, mirrored by the bass clarinet as it segues into the gentle staccato stabbings of the central panel. These in turn dissolve into rolling, locomotive-like rhythmic patterns which intersect and proceed in purposeful agitation. The timbres of individual instruments are projected in increasing variegation as the movement urgently heads towards its destination. Duelling clarinets soften into a brief finale, a typically concise Simpson confection of slow impenetrable motifs coalescing into something unassumingly monumental. The performance, by what I imagine is a scratch ensemble, seems immaculate. The recording is appropriately atmospheric.

All serious Simpsonites will want this terrific disc. Matthew Taylor’s informed note is a model of concision and clarity, although most of the booklet is devoted to artist biographies –a lot of artists are involved here! Massive kudos to Martin Anderson for facilitating this project, and to all of the musicians for sharing this wonderful music. Volume 2 cannot arrive quickly enough!

Richard Hanlon

Performers
Tippett String Quartet
Eva-Maria Hartmann (soprano), Cornelis Witthoefft (piano)
Emma Johnson (clarinet), Raphael Wallfisch (cello), John Lenehan (piano)
Peter Cigleris (clarinet), Derek Hannigan (bass clarinet), Will Duerden, Levi Andreassen, Daniil Margulis (double-basses)

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