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9 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Another revelation from Chandos, 6 Feb 2008
This CD completes, we are told, Chandos's survey of Cyril Scott's orchestral music - 4 CDs containing (in a neat symmetry) 4 symphonies, 4 major concertos, and 4 other works. I regret the omission of the 'Neapolitan Rhapsody', perhaps the most impressive of Scott's works for orchestra alone; and the emphasis on the symphonies owes more to the high repute of the genre than to the importance of Scott's contributions, which are inferior to his concertos (of which some remain unrecorded) and two of which are very early works that Scott himself rapidly withdrew. But the fact remains that these four discs, with their bold championing of the major works of a composer long pigeonholed as a mere miniaturist and with their beautiful and sympathetic playing (which does Brabbins and the BBC Philharmonic enormous credit), atmospherically recorded, have done more to restore his reputation than anything else achieved or attempted since his reputation first took a downward turn in around 1930. It is now clear that Scott's neglect resulted from a change in musical fashion and not from his having 'outlived his message' (as used to be said), for his style went on developing right into old age, in a way that makes him as interesting as Holst or Bridge, while his gifts as an orchestrator were excelled by none of his English contemporaries.
What of the two works on this disc? The First Symphony was a student work, lucky to get a first performance in 1900. Not surprisingly, it is in a totally different idiom than the Cello Concerto of 1937; yet taken together the two works have a tale to tell. The symphony reveals the state of Scott's technique when (surely prematurely) he was finishing his studies at Frankfurt with Iwan Knorr; it is fresh and engaging, but rudimentary in the development of its material and with little sense of the structural role of harmony. Scott never quite overcame these weaknesses, as the Cello Concerto illustrates, despite its merits in other respects. It grips the attention of a sympathetic listener not because of sustained development (which it lacks), but because of the bizarre, unsettling atmosphere created by the half lights and non-functional harmony of the orchestral accompaniment, which forms a background more subversive than supportive of the cello's busy scurrying, in an attempt (that never quite succeeds) to forge a clear path ahead; the result is one of Scott's most original works and not perhaps the best but arguably the most interesting British cello concerto between the familiar masterpieces of Elgar and Britten. The two main movements end with a rapid twist of the wrist, wholly convincing and quite unlike Scott's usual habit of ending both first and final movements with reiterated chords.
Where do we go from here? It is to be hoped that Chandos will continue to take an interest in Scott. His vocal works remain unexplored: the songs are slight, but his major choral works are likely to prove rewarding, and the BBC once revived one of his operas. He was perhaps at his best in chamber music: Dutton has given us some excellent recordings here (notably of String Quartets 1 and 2, and the quite wonderful Sonata Lirica), but there remain a dozen works crying out for revival. Scott predicted in one of his poems that his music would one day resurface but then again be forgotten (since, as he put it, 'fairest things are not a joy for aye'). The first part of this prophecy has now been fulfilled; the second, let us hope, will not be.
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