My entry into this generous (148 min.) twofer is a bit idiosyncratic. I am not a fan of British choral music; therefore,t he first disc, which is devoted to classic readings of two major works -- The Hymn to Jesus, based on texts from an apocryphal Gospel, and the Choral Symphony, based on selected poetry that appealed to Holst's tastes -- holds no interest for me. The singing and playing are certainly quite capable, but there are no texts, and prospective buyers should be aware that the large choruses are recorded in such a way that for me, at least, hardly a single word could be made out. In the Choral Symphony, which is the more intimate and engaging work, a young Felicity Palmer sings with sensitivity in tones that are remarkably like Janet Baker's.
My aim was to hear Holst's delightful and rarely recorded medieval pastiches on CD 2, The Wandering Scholar and At the Boar's Head. Holst had his only (limited) success in opera when he composed on a small scale -- his early chamber opera Savitri (1908), based on an Indian folk tale -- is a cult favorite that I've appreciated since the mid-Sixties, when Janet Baker and Robert Tear made a classic recording under the composer's gifted daughter, Imogen Holst. Tear appears in the excellent cast of The Wandering Scholar, based on a 13th-century French tale about a poor scholar who knocks on the door of a farmhouse just as a fat priest is about to seduce the lickerish wife of the house. Holst chose a simple idiom that is close to folksong, and the slight story is charmingly melodic. This was his last opera, premiered in 1934, the year of the composer's death, when he was too sick to attend. Neglect soon followed, but this recording under Britten acolyte Steuart Bedford is as good as one could want. The Wandering Scholar isn't a masterpiece, but anyone who loves Savitri will find it a worthy successor.
At the Boar's Head, from 1924, is written in the same folksong style, at about the same level of quality. Discouraged at the failure of his own librettos, holst set Shakespeare this time around, a famous scene from Henry IV between Falstaff and Prince Hal. The tunes are taken largely from a manual of court dances dating from the seventeenth century, so there was no attempt to imitate Elizabethan music. As Falstaff and Hal, John Tomlinson and Philip Langridge do an admirable job. But Holsti's imagination is a bit pallid here; he should have done more original composing and less pastiche, perhaps.
I'd love to report that these two charming one-acters are forgotten masterpieces, but for what they are, easy-listening historical sketches, they fall nicely on the ear.