Sir Stephen Hough (b. 1961)
Piano Concerto ‘The world of yesterday’ (2023)
Sonatina nostalgica (2019)
Partita (2019)
Sir Stephen Hough (piano)
The Hallé/Sir Mark Elder
rec. 2024, St Silas the Martyr, Kentish Town, UK; live, 15, 16 & 19 May 2024, Bridgewater Hall, Manchester, UK (Concerto)
Hyperion CDA68455 [40]

I’ve heard a number of compositions by Stephen Hough in recent years but to the best of my recollection they’ve all been choral works. Most recently I reviewed a fine disc devoted entirely to his choral music; like all the other works by Hough that I’ve encountered, I admired and enjoyed the contents of that disc. So, I was delighted when the present disc came to me for review.

The main work is Hough’s Piano Concerto, to which he has given the title ‘The world of yesterday’. The recording was made at the first performances of the work, which took place in Manchester in May 2024. I’ve not been able to find a review of the premiere on Seen and Heard; however, I discovered an appreciative review by Chris Kettle of a subsequent performance, given as recently as February 2025, by the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra with the composer once again as soloist. I wonder how soon it will be before another pianist takes up the work.   The title of the concerto is, in Hough’s words, “borrowed from Stefan Zweig’s eponymous memoir with its celebration of Viennese culture before the First World War; the world as it used to be; nostalgia both literal and legendary”. However, there is more than nostalgia to this concerto because, as the composer explains, he has, if you will, recalled the era when virtuoso pianist/composers would write a concerto to act as a touring calling-card; Rachmaninov is the obvious, but by no means sole, exemplar. Hough therefore tells us that “this title became a tag for me writing this piece, representing the history of the piano concerto form itself and of the pianists who wrote these works. A world of yesterday indeed”.

The structure of Hough’s concerto is somewhat unusual. It’s a single-movement work, here playing for 20:47, which is cast in three sections which follow each other without a break. Helpfully, these sections are separately tracked. First comes ‘Prelude – Cadenza’. The Prelude is entirely given over to the orchestra; they introduce, either explicitly or in hints, the melodic material on which the concerto will be based. The Prelude features appetising warm harmonies and interesting, romantic melodic lines. Hough’s scoring is very colourful and imaginative, though the orchestral forces are not excessive; judging by the personnel listed in the booklet, the work requires pairs of each woodwind instrument (plus piccolo),4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, percussion (1 player), harp and strings. At 2:15, the soloist enters boldly to play an extended cadenza (to 6:44). It’s quite unusual for a concerto soloist to begin with a cadenza (though Beethoven set a precedent in the ‘Emperor’ Concerto).  Hough’s cadenza is a big statement, full of dramatic, rhetorical gestures and calling for no little virtuosity. Eventually (around 5:00), the rhetoric subsides into quiet musings, in which vein the cadenza comes to an end. There follows ‘Waltz variations’. I learned from Stephen Hough’s programme note that the origins of the concerto lie in an invitation he received during the Covid lockdowns to compose some film music. In the event, the film project didn’t proceed in the originally envisaged way but Hough incorporated some of the material into the concerto, recycling what he terms “a waltz theme of Korngoldian decadence”. Decadent it may be, but the waltz theme is most attractive. Hough uses it as the basis for a set of succinct variations (there are, I think, eight variations, though the whole section plays only for 3:43). For much of the time the orchestra is to the fore while the piano part offers accompaniment or decoration. Here again, I found Hough’s orchestration pleasing and inventive. The concluding section ‘Tarantella appassionato’ accounts for half of the work’s duration (it lasts for 10:20). Fundamentally, this movement is, I think, a celebration of the tradition of virtuoso concerto finales; the music is crammed full of technically demanding, brilliant writing, both for the soloist and the orchestra. I referred a moment ago to a celebration of the sort of finale that Hough will have played in countless concertos over the years. I wonder, though, if in all the energy of his own finale there’s also more than a nod to the thinking behind Ravel’s La Valse, albeit the music of the respective pieces is very different.

I enjoyed this concerto very much. The music is tonal, readily accessible and I would describe the work as ‘a serious entertainment’, by which I mean, there’s lots to enjoy here but there’s genuine substance to the inspiration behind it. It will surprise no one that the composer is a superb advocate for his own music. Equally superb is the delivery of the orchestral score by The Hallé and Sir Mark Elder. It’s very good news that the concerto has been issued so promptly on CD; that will enable it to be widely heard.

Stephen Hough also plays two of his compositions for solo piano. Sonatina nostalgica is cast in three movements which play without a break. It was written for Hough’s longstanding friend, Philip Fowke in celebration of his seventieth birthday. Hough explains that the piece “evokes literal home-sickness for the places of our youth”, in this instance the Cheshire village of Lymm; Hough was born in Cheshire and spent his early years in the county. In his notes he explains the autobiographical memories behind the first movement, ‘The road from Danebank’; here, the music is nicely nostalgic in tone. ‘The bench by the Dam’ is gentle and reflective in nature; Hough acknowledges that the spirit of another Cheshire-born composer, John Ireland is a factor here. Finally, ‘A gathering at the cross’ recalls the market cross in the centre of Lymm and is, in Hough’s words, “an affectionate tribute to the countless friends and family members who have gathered…within striking distance of its crumbling sandstone structure over many years”. This movement contains the only fast-moving music in the Sonatina; one can readily imagine the hustle and bustle of people gathering together.

The Partita is in five movements. The outer movements, which are the most substantial (at just over four minutes duration in each case) “suggest the world of a grand cathedral organ”. They are, respectively ‘Overture’ and ‘Toccata’. In between come ‘Capriccio’, which is fast and full of energy, and two movements entitled ‘Canción y Danza’. Both of those movements are inspired by the Catalan composer, Federico Mompou. All five movements are attractive; they also place different demands on the technique of the player, not least the concluding ‘Toccata’ which brings the Partita to a breathless, virtuoso conclusion.

Both of these works for solo piano are very appealing. The performances, by their composer, must surely be regarded as definitive.

There’s a great deal to enjoy in the music contained on this CD and the performances are predictably fine. The engineering by David Hinitt and, in the Sonatina, by Ben Connellan, is excellent. The composer provides a short but very useful introduction to the works in his notes. My only quibble – and it’s not an insignificant one – concerns the playing time of this CD. I completely understand that it’s desirable to present a coherent programme; that’s been achieved. But a playing time of just 39:54 offers distinctly short measure for a full-priced CD. I noted that in the booklet Hough mentions that he had composed four piano sonatas by the time he came to compose the Partita; could not one of these have been included in order to expand the playing time of the disc to a length that gives purchasers value for money not just in terms of the quality of the music but also the quantity?

John Quinn

Previous reviews: Dominic Hartley (February 2025) ~ Philip Harrison (April 2025)

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