Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)
A London Symphony (Symphony No.2) (1920 version)
Claude Debussy (1862-1918)
Petite Suite (1886-1889, orch. Büsser 1907)
Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904)
Slavonic Dances, Op.46 Nos.1-4 (1878)
London Symphony Orchestra/Sir Dan Godfrey
rec. 1925-1926, Columbia Studios, London, UK
Pristine Audio PASC761 [72]

It only remains for Pristine Audio to transfer Henry Wood’s recording of ‘A London Symphony’ for this label to have cornered the market in early recordings of the work. They already have Eugène Goossens’ Cincinnati recording of 1941 and now they present Dan Godfrey’s late acoustic April-May 1925 set, adding, as a download only, his 1923 recording of the first movement of the symphony, cut by a third, and the complete third movement.

The May 1920 version Godfrey used in his recording contained material that the composer famously later cut in his ‘final’ 1936 version, but Godfrey did cut some 23 bars in the Epilogue, a decision followed by VW in his revision. This 1920 version was the first to be printed. Godfrey gave the second provincial performance of the symphony in 1915, programmed it again in 1920 using the newly published score and then gave another 14 performances of the work until he retired in 1933.

The period around 1923-25 saw a remarkable flood of recordings, in which, in addition to Elgar’s recording of his own music, the leading companies in Britain, HMV, Columbia, Vocalion and Edison Bell, turned out major recordings, albeit some abridged and via the acoustic horn – The Planets, Joe Batten’s recording of The Dream of Gerontius, McEwen’s ‘Solway’ Symphony, Bridge’s ‘The Sea’, brief excerpts from Boughton’s ‘The Immortal Hour’ and – even earlier, recorded in 1920, Julius Harrison’s ‘Worcestershire Suite’. These were just some of the riches available.

Yet Godfrey’s 12-sided VW Symphony, with the LSO, stands as a major Columbia undertaking. The sections that were later excised by the composer are mainly in the slow movement – from letter ‘K’ in the score, the section Bernard Herrmann spoke to Vaughan Williams about, the composer being characteristically bluff about the excisions – ‘there was some horrid modern music in the middle – awful stuff, I cut that out’.

The recording itself is excellent for the time, though one has to come to it with realistic expectations. Tuba reinforcements can hardly contribute to evoking London’s awakening; it’s more of a brass band start to the day (though not quite Cockaigne). The mists are murky though the development section is much more amenable to acoustic recording and Mark Obert-Thorn’s retention of surface noise admirably allows a great deal of detail to be heard. The passage where the solo violin (W H Reed) plays over harp accompaniment was exceptionally well judged by the contemporary engineers even though there can’t have been many strings in the studio. Godfrey and the LSO certainly convey the energy of the music but can’t really convey its mystery.  

The expressive quality of the slow movement just about survives intact though it tends to be unduly underlined by the tubas – something that wouldn’t have been as audible to listeners at the time on their gramophones – though the folkloric moments are still delightful. There’s a fine principal violist, whom I assume was Alfred Hobday. Columbia wisely allocated three 78 sides each to these movements. The Scherzo is less bass-mired than the first two movements and there is quite an amount of textual clarity in the recording – play this to your friends who sneer at early recordings. The Concertina effects, for example, and the hurdy-gurdy – aural elements that Albert Coates drew attention to when he performed the work – are quite audible. And Godfrey certainly captures the agitation in the finale, the chimes, and much more, notwithstanding the cut.

Godfrey was clearly an authoritative exponent of the symphony, and this recording- fraught though it is with sonic weaknesses and crudities – stands as one of the most important acoustic recordings made in the London studios in the first half of the 1920s.

After which, there are two other things to consider. There’s Debussy’s Petite Suite in Henri Büsser’s 1907 orchestration, an early electric of 1926 recorded with freshness and some degree of charm. Recorded on the same day were the first four Dvořák Slavonic Dances from the Op.46 set and if one can’t catch the full orchestral range in these early electric examples recorded in Columbia’s Petty France Studios, they certainly exude a bluff vigour.

There’s a one-page producer’s note, as ever, which sets the scene very well. Many years ago, Symposium released its own version of the Godfrey recording adding the 1923 recording into the bargain. It was an excellent transfer for the time (2007), but this one is rather better and much to be welcomed.

Jonathan Woolf