The stature of Moeran's Symphony in G Minor is evident from the number of recordings it has received, beginning as early as 1942 with Leslie Heward's interpretation. Today we have those of Boult (Lyrita), Lloyd-Jones (Naxos) and Handley (Chandos) to choose from. Although each of these has its merits, I have decided to review the last of these because the late (and sadly missed) Vernon Handley had a reputation for interpreting the music of Moeran (as well as of Bax), and was the complete professional whose study of the scores are known to have been meticulous, leaving nothing to chance. Interestingly, Handley himself spoke very highly of the Heward recording.
Moeran, a slow developer, was unable to fulfil Sir Hamilton Harty's 1926 commission for a symphony because he felt he still lacked the necessary technique. It was 1937 before the work finally emerged, and although dedicated to Harty, it was premiered by Lesie Heward the following year. Much - perhaps too much -has been made of Moeran's "influences". Certainly, there is an Englishness suggestive of Vaughan Williams, and there are folksong inflections, although Moeran rarely quotes folksong directly. Sibelius is the one influence that is generally agreed upon; this is evident in the way in which the themes in the Symphony tend to grow (rather like Moeran's own technique, perhaps!).However, this should not be seen as detrimental in any way. Sibelius stood like a colossus over British music in the 1930s, and whatever else can be said, Moeran always retains a distinctive style.
An influence of a different kind which permeates all of Moeran's music is the British landscape - especially that of Norfolk and Kerry in the west of Ireland, both of which he knew and loved. He admits that much of the work was conceived "among the mountains and seaboard of County Kerry", while the brooding Lento grew out of the "sand dunes and marshes of East Norfolk". The Symphony occasionally bursts out with passages of a skipping, jig-like quality, perhaps evoking, like the second movement of the later Violin Concerto, the atmosphere of the Puck Fairs held in Kerry; but the conclusion, after a moment of relfective calm, is terse and explosive.
This Chandos disc generously couples the Symphony with two slighter, but nonetheless characteristic works: the Rhapsody for Piano and orchestra (in which Margaret Fingerhut puts in a sympathetic perfomance), and the Overture for a Masque, both highly enjoyable. But it is the Symphony that dominates. The fact that it managed to hold its own, despite being written during the same period as Vaughan Williams Fourth, Walton's First, and Bax's Sixth, says it all.