Arnold, M.: Symphonies Nos. 5 And 6

Before I add my own commentary on this disc, I must make a nod to Mr. Hollingsworth's review. He has said much of what I feel about this music. What is left for me to comment on?...The beauty. The sheer beauty. Rarely have I heard such beauty. In his finer moments, Sir Malcolm achieves what few ever have (Mahler, Vaughan Williams, pehaps J.S. Bach). The slow movements of the fifth and sixth symphonies ache with wonder. Yet the work never degenerates into the ear candy that was so prevalent in late twentieth century British Classical music. This recording was made in the presence of the composer. Andrew Penny does and excellent job with the forces of the National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland. The Naxos sound is excellent.

For my part, I eagerly look forward to hearing Mr. Penny's other Arnold recordings.

The thing I greatly admire about Sir Malcolm Arnold is his everlasting quest to uphold his personal voice. Take the set of English Dances, for instance. I always feel that his orchestration takes that of Ravel a step further in modern music. Therefore, not only is orchestration flamboyant and upbeat, but so does his harmonic language and his musical personality. His sense of rhythm, so relentless and contrasting, add to the overall appeal of his music. Where he could be exhuberant in places, he could otherwise have a great deal of depth in others. No every work of his is a masterpiece, but every work I've heard grasp my attention, often even repeatedly. Make no mistake about it: Sir Malcolm Arnold is a major 20th Century composer.

The Fifth Symphony is to my mind his masterpiece. The first movement is what I mean by flamboyancy. The orchestration is as vivid as Ravel's or Bax's. But listen to the some of the strings and woodwind writings (@ 3:44 - ff especially) and you'll notice a great sense of distinctiveness that's ultimately rewarding. His music (as in the first movement) has the spontaneity as in Walton's. The second movement (andante con moto) can easily stand up well on its own. It is a quasi sonata form. The beginning (with lower strings) has that Elgarian sense of restrained melancholy. But the secondary theme (announced by the flute, mutted strings, and timpani) remainds me of Vaughan Williams with the quiet dignity, vividly supported by the xylophone, but with a subdued sense of magic. The middle movement is more tense and heroic, with some virtuosic brass writings. The secondary theme returns, nicely restrained, and gives the movement a peaceful close. The final two movements are as restless as the Presto, con malizia (second) movement of Walton's First. The Finale is particularly impulsive and the orchestration a bit under Prokofiev's influence. But I admire his use of the first theme of the slow movement, which is even more resounding.

The Sixth Symphony, though not quite a masterpiece, nevertheless holds up well. How often do I think of Alan Hovhannes whenever I listen to the first movement (especially the first two minutes)? Quite often enough, with the jazzy brass and woodwind writings supported by a mysterious mutted strings and double bass and cello pizzicato. But the outcome is more classical than jazz even in the Lento (second) movement. Though not as deep as the slow movement of the Fifth Symphony, this movement is elegaic, somewhat in the Shostakovichian vein. The middle section (@4:44 - ff) again shows Arnold his familiarity of the musical culture of the 1960s. It is aggresive, with the orchestration leaning towards Prokofiev and Tubin (first movement of the Sixth Symphony). The mood subsides and ends the movement as mysterious as a Hovhannes piece. The finale is his typical flamboyant and galloping movement. But why do I find the movement (and its closing) out of tune with the rest of the work? Obviously the first two movements blend jazz, pop music, and classical elements admirably well. But the finale, although well written, is somehow rhetorically empty.

Andrew Penny and the National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland performed flawlessly. They struck every note perfectly and never risk undermining the vividness behind Arnold's lucid scoring (particularly in subdued, restrained passages). The rendering of the slow movements are particularly well done and nicely restrained. The warmth and atmosphere of the recording under Naxos aid in the overall appeal of the works.

A model recording no doubt.

The British have been enthusiastic standard bearers of the symphonic tradition in the 20th century, witness the numerous and very memorable cycles transmitted to us by Vaughan Williams and Bax, of course, but also Tippett, Simpson, Rubbra and Arnold. Of these, Arnold - as the prolific author of a series of brilliant film scores and witty concertos (including a Grand Concerto Gastronomique for eater, waiter, food and orchestra) - is perhaps least widely known as a serious contributor to the symphonic tradition. In continental Europe very few music lovers will be familiar with his work. And I have yet to hear an Arnold symphony played by a non-British/Irish orchestra. Nevertheless, his 9 symphonies are a significant a statement as any of his distinguished colleagues. The orchestral brilliance and raucous humour so evident in his occasional music are an equally prominent feature of the symphonies, but there they are counterbalanced by a particularly gritty sense of loss and fatality. Despite the witticisms and pastiche, Arnold was a tormented, unpredictable personality that was given to an intense struggle with his inner demons. But he was also a great craftsman with a natural ability to knead this combustible material into compelling, classically proportioned symphonic structures.

The Fifth and Sixth symphonies occupy a middle place between the more ebulient group of the first four symphonies and the darker hued final trilogy. The emotional ambit of the Fifth is very difficult to chart. Although the first movement is marked "tempestuoso" its dominant mood is a reflective, bittersweet serenity, occasionaly punctured by jagged outbursts. Oboe, pizzicato strings, tubular bells and harp set down the brighter end of a unique orchestra colour palette from the very first few seconds. Later on autumnal strings and wistful brass solos in their lower registers (horn, tuba) introduce a more somber element. Structurally we feel the hand of a master symphonist although Arnold does not rely on traditional templates. The thematic material is constantly evolving in unpredictable ways, morphing into a shadowy procession of alternately endearing and ghostly figures.

The slow movement - marked "andante con moto" - is a warmly expansive utterance, richly harmonised and built around a nostalgic, flowing theme. In the context of the radically avant garde 1960s writing such a melody was considered to be a sign of wilful naiveté and Arnold was crucified for it by the critical establishment. In our postmodern age the pendulum has swung back and simplicity and spirituality in music (Pärt, Gorecki and other pious minimalists) have been re-embraced. Arnold's andante goes beyond that in combining a nobility of speech with his characteristic grit.

Two shorter, faster movements bring the symphony to a close. The scherzo is a riotious affair which thematically and texturally connects to the introductory movement. The finale starts in high spirits as a kind of military tattoo, but soon strings start to weave ominous patterns and with the piccolo shrieking in utter alarm and percussion pounding it seems as if proceedings are under siege. This surreal atmosphere gives way to a restatement of the D major theme of the slow movement in unabashed splendour. It's hard to position oneself as a listener vis-à-vis this kind of apotheosis: is it vulgar kitsch or is there genuine depth of expression? These are the kinds of questions that are also prompted whilst listening to Shostakovich. Arnold's Russian counterpart comes to mind more than once when studying the former's Fifth symphony. Shostakovich's Fifteenth shares its emotional ambiguity in oscillating between childlike innocence and understated tragedy (incidentally, both Arnold and Shostakovich used 12-tone rows in the first movement of their respective symphonies). I'm also thinking of Shostakovich's Sixth symphony, a tilted three-movement structure consisting of a very long introductory largo followed by two boisterous fast movements. In the Arnold symphony the two first movements also function as a predominantly reflective introduction to the scherzo and finale. Arnold's Fifth characteristically ends with a question mark: the apotheosis dies down and again the first movement's questioning chords on the tubular bells supported by sombre strings, morendo.

The Fifth and Sixth symphonies are separated by six tumultuous years (all three of Arnold's siblings died, he divorced and re-married, moved away from London to rural Cornwall and fathered an autistic child). The Sixth is often considered to be the most enigmatic of the nine symphonies and it's relatively less performed. It's indeed a colder and at first sight less ingratiating work. Surprisingly, Arnold takes his cue from contemporaneous developments in jazz and pop music. The first movement has been said to be inspired by Charlie Parker and weaves many `Bird'-like figurations in its fabric. It's a tempestuous movement that is grafted on a hypnotic rhytmic spine of jazz-like running pizzicato basses. It features many memorable ideas, a lamenting melody introduced by the oboe and later taken over by the strings being one of the more disquieting. The most startling passage - Paul Jackson, an Arnold biographer, finds it "bizarre and grotesque" - is a succession of two savage crescendos, one of 16 bars and the other of 18, over a `sleazy' riff in the lower strings. It's the kind of thing that lingers in one's mind a long time after having listened to this symphony. As in the Fifth, formally the movement doesn't rely on received schemata. Piers Burton-Page has written about the first movement: "Arnold generates his own brand through complexity (...) thematic layers collide, become paralysed, break free, and then generate further argument, in textures of real orginality and uneasy rhythmic complexity, culminating in a fierce climax." Which would seem to be very applicable to the first movement of the Fifth symphony as well ...

The second movement is a brooding lento which always makes me think of these early science-fiction films in which vulnerable spacecraft travel through vast swaths of menacing emptiness. Arnold characteristically dispels the funereal atmosphere with a breezy `big band' gig, giving way to frenetic, circus-like bustle and then a savage march over a pounding ostinato in the timpani before connecting back to the introductory "space" music. The movement ends in a most surprising way with a long, ear-shattering crescendo in B natural on the trumpets.

The finale of this three-movement work is a boisterous rondo built around a brash, galloping main theme in the brass. Again Shostakovich seems to lurk in the background. There is a most lovely episode, just before the final recapitulation of the main theme, with a lyrical, sunny theme in the strings that is repeated three times. The end is less equivocal than in the Fifth: the main theme simply brings the work to a joyous conclusion.

In short: two marvellous and endearing symphonic masterpieces. I have a particularly soft spot for the Fifth, which opened for me the door to this fabulous symphonic cycle, but the more I listen to the Sixth, the more impressive it gets.

Andrew Penny delivers commendable performances with his Irish forces. Naxos' recorded sound is very clean and transparant. If I wouldn't know any other interpretations I could very well live with these recordings. As it stands, the catalogue offers (or offered) some alternatives, some of which outshine the Naxos disc. The composer himself recorded the Fifth Symphony with the City of Birmingham Orchestra for EMI back in 1972. It is a splendid reading - coupled with a very worthwhile Second symphony under Sir Charles Groves - that is currently sadly unavailable (Arnold: Symphonies 2 & 5/Peterloo Overture). In comparison Penny sounds a little cautious and less characterful. Particularly the all-important solos in the Arnold recording seem to be more empathetically played. It is a recording to which I will always return.

The Sixth symphony has been recorded by, amongst others, Vernon Handley and the Royal Philarmonic Orchestra (Symphony No. 6; Fantasy on a Theme of John Field; Sweeney Todd Suite; Tam O'Shanter Overture). Again, although the Naxos version is fine, Handley delivers it with more bite and appreciably greater depth of feeling. His Lento is almost two minutes slower compared to Penny. Another advantage, for some, is that Handley couples the Sixth with some lesser known pieces in Arnold's output (the Sweeney Todd concert suite, the Tam O'Shanter Overture and the Fantasy on a Theme of John Field for piano and orchestra).

However, given the budget pricing of this CD and general high quality of the recording, it certainly deserves five stars. Arnold afficionados should look beyond the Naxos disc to some of the other superb recordings of these works.