This is a long-awaited disc, particular for SACD collectors. From a high point in the 70's, interest in Delius has waned, on the part of concert programmers as well as recording companies. In recent years, the Delian well has almost run dry, so congratulations to Chandos for effectively doubling the number of SACDs devoted to Delius with this one issue. And here we are offered a pair of works from the high point of Delius' career (c.1898-c.1934), both of them experiments in using a chorus as an orchestral instrument.

Sir Andrew Davis appears to have taken over the late Richard Hickox's responsibility for recording Chandos' English music series (Hickox, a fine Delian himself, had already recorded Appalachia for other companies). He brings a rapport with the BBC Symphony Orchestra and Chorus built up over many years, and an obvious affection for the composer.

Appalachia was a product of the young Delius having escaped from the drab woollen mills of Bradford to the exotic charms of managing an orange plantation in Florida. Lying back in the evenings, he could hear the singing of black tobacco workers, and together with the romantic surroundings, this inspired him to capture the whole experience in music. Appalachia finally emerged in the form of a set of variations (a form used in many other of his works) based on a simple slave song, which lamented the fate of slaves being "sold down the river" to another plantation on the great Mississippi. Appalachia (an old name for North America) had its première at the Queen's Hall, London in 1907. In the audience was the conductor Thomas Beecham, who fell in love with the work, ultimately becoming its finest exponent as well as editor and arranger of the score currently in use.

Delius specifies a very large orchestra for Appalachia. He calls for: three flutes, all of which double on piccolos; three oboes; a cor anglais; four clarinets (a pair of the “normal” variety in Bb, plus a bass clarinet and an Eb clarinet which has a shriller sound; it was pre-eminently used in military bands to
“brighten and strengthen the top octave”). Delius also requires four bassoons: three ‘standard’ ones plus a double bassoon; six horns; three trombones; a tuba; timpani; percussion (triangle, side drum, bass drum, cymbals and gong), all of which are used very sparingly indeed; two harps; and a full string section. Most of the work is purely orchestral, the large chorus also used very sparingly, as are the two soloists - the baritone soloist has a mere three bars!

Davis takes 35:36 for his performance, Beecham 37:04; not a significant difference in such a long work. However, there are a few of the variations where tempi are different; Beecham makes a much more lilting waltz (in the unusual time signature of 6/8) in Var. 10, and in the March of Var.10, Davis is through in 1:33 while Beecham obeys the instructions of 'Molto lento maestoso, very broad' to the letter, giving a much more deeply expressed gravitas and intensity of string tone (despite the ancient recording). A similar point occurs in Var. 14, 'Mysterioso lento', where a sad rocking theme is given a truly forlorn expression by Beecham, who also obeys the pianissimo, whereas Davis has the orchestra noticeably louder and is more forthright. This applies throughout the disc, the older recordings having truly hushed passages (many are pppp) which are often overplayed on the Chandos disc by the BBC SO. Articulation by the choir and clarity of inner melodies are also better conveyed on the best RBCD recordings, especially by Beecham and Barbirolli.

'Song of the High Hills' originates in a holiday to Norway which Delius had in1887. Not only did he meet Christian Sinding, but also his childhood hero Edvard Grieg, who later became his mentor and friend. Delius was awestruck by the vast mountain landscapes of Norway, from its high, jagged peaks on the west coast to the smoothly rolling glacially-scoured fells of the country's heart. He was moved to write music which described these experiences, just as he had done with Florida, again using a large orchestra with his customary reserve. Immediately one is presented with a cooler sound, and a brighter one, with much more use of the high violin registers, high harp notes and glockenspiels suggesting icy glints.

Beecham, curiously, was not very interested in this work when it was published in 1915, although he did later record it several times. Perhaps the best-regarded RBCD performance is that of Delius' amanuensis Eric Fenby with the RPO. Davis (at 28:43) lingers a good deal longer than Beecham (24:46), a danger in this piece which can easily sound meandering. Davis' account has many incidental beauties, but Fenby is even finer with his grasp of the structure, and more sharply depicts the hushed, stark loneliness of the fells under snow darkened skies. He is also better at projecting the cruel majesty of Delius' great surges of emotion when beholding such vast vistas. It isn't just a matter of getting very loud.

In the All Saint's Tooting (London) venue, a popular recording site, the Chandos recording is perhaps not their best. The viewpoint of the orchestra is somewhat distant in a reverberant space, and I needed to wind up the volume to get sufficient immediacy. Even then, the sonic stage is not very wide, and even with multichannel, the front-back perspective is almost 2-dimensional, lacking pinpoint focus of instrumental placing. The large BBC Chorus sounds as though it is occupying the same space as the orchestra, and percussion and brass are also in an indeterminate front-back location. In loud (ffff) climaxes, the sound becomes somewhat congested, and the hard-wall ambience covers detail, while the high strings (and shrill piccolos) tend to be over-bright.

I'm sure this disc will be snapped up by many Delius enthusiasts; it has many merits and certainly shows great commitment by the musicians. For me, it isn't the ultimate version of either work, and the recording is sometimes fatiguing.

Copyright © 2011 John Miller and HRAudio.net

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