Elgar's Hillside

[mc ukrneal]

I think one problem arises because when we have these discussions, we tend to think we're talking about the same thing - but we're probably not because we're each searching for subtly (or not so subtly) different outcomes. So I might suggest that it's not so much a matter of whether you or I or anyone else 'is convinced' of a particular idea; it's more a matter of what kind of result we're seeking. In my case, I find Elgar the man entirely fascinating, and there's a continual interplay between listening to the music to understand the man better, and learning about the man in order to understand the music better. That really is a very different kind of enquiry, compared with someone who sits down and listens to the 2nd symphony knowing nothing (and wanting to know nothing) about the composer of it. I think what I'm suggesting is that to a large extent we get differently nuanced answers because we're asking differently nuanced questions.

It's a bit like asking why Monet painted outdoors. One might reply (a) because the invention of tubed paint made it so much easier to do so; or (b) because he was interested in recording light effects. Both answers are true; but different questioners will get differing degrees of satisfaction from each of the two answers according to what their hopes were at the outset.

We are coming at this a bit differently and I think the only major difference we have is how much these 'extraneous' things have an impact on the understanding of the music. I would agree with you that knowing a composer can only help understand the music. No disagreements there. In the case of the second symphony, I am not sure how much some of external issues swirling around help to understand it (so the poem at the beginning, referemce to Tintagel, etc.). I certainly see no harm in exploring them and speculating. But I am not sure how much it adds in the end. This seems to be the point our views diverge - and that is ok. I am still open to it, and if nothing else, it creates some interesting avenues of discussion.

[71 dB]

Funny thing about Falstaff. I know it's highly regarded; I can hear some of its qualities myself; but in all these years I've never grown to love it, always feel reluctant to listen to it, and then when I do and it's all over, I think something like: 'Right then. Duty done for another year.'

It's Elgar and it sounds Elgar so I don't have difficulties enjoying it but Falstaff isn't among the best works of Elgar for me either.

[karlhenning]

FWIW, I came to like Falstaff much quicker than I warmed to the symphonies.

[71 dB]

FWIW, I came to like Falstaff much quicker than I warmed to the symphonies.

Yes, I know. I was blown away by the symphonies first time I heard them. Further listening revealed even more greatness for me. 

[Vesteralen]

I need some opinions on this.  I want to give some observations on my project of listening to Elgar chronologically.  I'm experimenting with blogging on another site on this topic (we'll see how that goes).
I wanted to post this information in a thread on this site, but I don't know whether to do it on this thread or if I should create a new one.  The advantage of a new thread would be that it would be less disruptive.  I'm not anticipating much response to these posts, and they might just break the flow of the thread if I put them here.

On the other hand, putting them on this thread would tend to increase the post count for Elgar, which some people might think is a good idea.

At any rate, below is my first post.  Comments are welcome.  And, if you think I should move it to a new thread (or just shut up altogether), let me know.

*
*
* 

In the TV adaptation of P G Wodehouse's story "Jeeves and the Song of Songs", Bertie Wooster's friend Tuppy thinks he's fallen in love with Cora Bellinger, a noted soprano.  We are first given a glimpse of the somewhat unprepossessing La Bellinger as she sings to piano accompaniment in the home of the weekend host of Bertie, Tuppy and several other guests.  After the performance, Tuppy tells Bertie of his passion for the singer and says, "What a wonderful...noise...she makes, Bertie." 

It's a scene that involuntarily replays in my mind whenever I hear vocal parlor music.  It's what I thought of when I listened to a recording of Elgar's first known composition, the song "The Language of Flowers", which he wrote at the tender age of fourteen as a birthday present for his sister Lucy.  The poem that provided the lyrics for this, what might be considered rather cloyingly sentimental piece, was written by an American botanist and poet James Gates Percival.

The music Elgar came up with to set this poem reminded me a bit of Stephen Foster's.  It brought back to me the Nonesuch LP I used to own with the late mezzo Jan DeGaetani singing Foster's songs.  I would have liked to have heard how Elgar's song would have sounded in DeGaetani's slightly more understated style. 

At any rate, Elgar's melodic gift can already be sensed to an oh-so-limited degree in this piece of juvenilia.   I could listen to it much more appreciatively if I could just get the image of Cora Bellinger out of my head.

[karlhenning]

Not any help, but . . . I love Wodehouse!

[Elgarian]

I think the only major difference we have is how much these 'extraneous' things have an impact on the understanding of the music.

I've not found it easy to be clear about this - I'll try again. What I'm wondering about is whether we all mean the same thing when we talk about 'the understanding of the music'. I'm almost certain we don't. At one end of the spectrum (let's call it 'A') will be those who are interested primarily in the score and the purely musical interpretation of it. At the other end (let's call it 'B') are those who are primarily interested in the associations and emotional connections that they make when they listen. Most of us are somewhere in between. I'm closer to B than to A. I suspect you're closer to A; certainly closer than I am, I imagine.

My point is that where we sit on the spectrum determines what we each consider to be a proper 'understanding' of the music (by 'proper' I mean one that satisfies us, each, as individuals). An extreme 'A' person would reject all the associations in, say, the Enigma Variations, as being non-musical and adding nothing to the understanding of the music. But an extreme 'B' person would think such an approach to leave far too much out to be considered adequate. So the expression 'understanding the music' drags all sorts of baggage along with it, and we each have our own subtly (or not so subtly) different takes, even when we think we're talking about the same thing.

Tell me that Elgar made a Tintagel association with the 2nd symphony, and I simply won't listen to it in the same way. I may not be able to describe how, exactly, but I'll be continually on the lookout for for echoes of chivalric motives, maybe a touch of sea, and maybe also a touch of Windfloweriness because of the bits of biography I know. If I don't find them clearly present, I'll likely feel that maybe I don't 'understand' the symphony properly yet, and keep trying, and so on - in a way that wouldn't in the least trouble someone who didn't know that information, or who disregarded it. So even if I can't point to this bit or that bit and label it convincingly 'Tintagel' (and I can't), still it affects my expectations, and my listening, and consequently my 'understanding' of the music, even though to an 'A' type person this would seem quite absurd.

Oh gosh I'm sorry. I had no idea that this post would become so laboured, and I wouldn't have started it if I'd known! But now I've done it, I may as well leave it here for passing travellers to muse upon, and perhaps thereby drift into a well-earned restful snooze before continuing their journey.

[Archaic Torso of Apollo]

FWIW, I came to like Falstaff much quicker than I warmed to the symphonies.

While I like the actual musical content of Falstaff, I have the usual tone-poem problem with it: the story it's supposed to illustrate gets in the way of my enjoyment (because I'm thinking "oh, the music is representing that now"). And the Falstaff scenario is very specific, illustrating certain scenes from Shakespeare. If it were a more nebulous "personality study" I don't think I'd have that problem.

For what it's worth, I think the opening several minutes, illustrating the Falstaff-Prince Hal clash of personalities, are magnificent and I can enjoy them on that level. They play to one of Elgar's natural strengths, namely the contrast between the outwardly confident and the timid or uneasy.

Strangely, I don't have a similar problem with Strauss' Don Quixote, despite its being just as literary and specific as the Elgar.

[Vesteralen]

At one end of the spectrum (let's call it 'A') will be those who are interested primarily in the score and the purely musical interpretation of it. At the other end (let's call it 'B') are those who are primarily interested in the associations and emotional connections that they make when they listen. Most of us are somewhere in between.

I'm really in the middle on this.  I definitely prefer to know the associations, if there are any, between real life and the composition in the composer's mind at the time of composing. 

On the other hand, I often find that a piece of music that moves me creates its own associations in my mind independent of the composer's thoughts.

A good example is Schumann's Fantasy in C.  The work was dedicated to Lizst, supposedly modelled on the life of Beethoven, but the first movement, in Schumann's own words was a long lament for Clara.  I love this work, but when I listen to it, I don't think of Lizst or Beethoven, and only rarely think of Clara.  As with most really moving works, it creates inside of me a kind of amorphous emotional cloud.  I can't define what it means to me or where it transports me - but transport me it does..somewhere.

On the other hand, after seeing Ken Russell's Elgar TV show years ago on PBS, I simply can not think of the Cello Concerto without the images of those trees and that peculiar kind of sadness they conveyed to me.

In a way, it's kind of fun that as one individual I don't have just one way to experience the joys of music.

[mc ukrneal]

I've not found it easy to be clear about this - I'll try again. What I'm wondering about is whether we all mean the same thing when we talk about 'the understanding of the music'. I'm almost certain we don't. At one end of the spectrum (let's call it 'A') will be those who are interested primarily in the score and the purely musical interpretation of it. At the other end (let's call it 'B') are those who are primarily interested in the associations and emotional connections that they make when they listen. Most of us are somewhere in between. I'm closer to B than to A. I suspect you're closer to A; certainly closer than I am, I imagine.

My point is that where we sit on the spectrum determines what we each consider to be a proper 'understanding' of the music (by 'proper' I mean one that satisfies us, each, as individuals). An extreme 'A' person would reject all the associations in, say, the Enigma Variations, as being non-musical and adding nothing to the understanding of the music. But an extreme 'B' person would think such an approach to leave far too much out to be considered adequate. So the expression 'understanding the music' drags all sorts of baggage along with it, and we each have our own subtly (or not so subtly) different takes, even when we think we're talking about the same thing.

Tell me that Elgar made a Tintagel association with the 2nd symphony, and I simply won't listen to it in the same way. I may not be able to describe how, exactly, but I'll be continually on the lookout for for echoes of chivalric motives, maybe a touch of sea, and maybe also a touch of Windfloweriness because of the bits of biography I know. If I don't find them clearly present, I'll likely feel that maybe I don't 'understand' the symphony properly yet, and keep trying, and so on - in a way that wouldn't in the least trouble someone who didn't know that information, or who disregarded it. So even if I can't point to this bit or that bit and label it convincingly 'Tintagel' (and I can't), still it affects my expectations, and my listening, and consequently my 'understanding' of the music, even though to an 'A' type person this would seem quite absurd.

Oh gosh I'm sorry. I had no idea that this post would become so laboured, and I wouldn't have started it if I'd known! But now I've done it, I may as well leave it here for passing travellers to muse upon, and perhaps thereby drift into a well-earned restful snooze before continuing their journey.

I wouldn't keep responding if I was nodding off in the middle. Trust me on that!

I think I must be a bit more the other end of the spectrum as you say, but not all the way at the end (I hope). I view musical understanding as something of a moving target. One day. I'm sure I've got it. The next, I wonder what I heard the previous day, because I just don't see it the next (for example - a real one too, though not with Elgar).

I look at it like a puzzle. I don't know what 'picture' I am trying to make, but the music represent the pieces. These 'pieces' start to fall into place as I listen. Information like the Tintagel (for example) won't bother me if I can't fit it into my understanding or the puzzle. In this, you are right, I won't worry about it. But not because I think it unimportant, but because I think it a relatively small clue that can be figured out without it. While I gather you will think there is something missing in your understanding (or that you haven't quite grasped it yet). 

Perhaps an example would help? I the 2nd movement of the second symphony, well there is disagreement over whether this dedicated to Edward or someone else or whether it is dedicated to anyone. For me, knowing it could be dedicated to someone could add an element of understanding, but here knowing Elgar is sufficient to gain the understanding that Elgar wants to express here, and that is clearly sorrow, sadness, and a funereal atmosphere. For you, I gather, it adds some immediacy or brings the music closer to your heart (or something along these lines) by considering the potential story line that you feel best addresses what you know of Elgar, his life, his music, his feelings when he may have written this, etc. I'm guessing a bit, and suspect that I am not being nuanced enough, but that is what I think you are saying. Both of us may feel the grief here and be equally touched by it, but the process of getting 'under the skin' of the music may be different. I think the result is probably similar, but the process is not.

I feel I have taken a risk in telling you what you think and feel, but I thought it might be helpful in case I am way off base.

[Elgarian]

Information like the Tintagel (for example) won't bother me if I can't fit it into my understanding or the puzzle. ... While I gather you will think there is something missing in your understanding (or that you haven't quite grasped it yet).

Yes that's exactly how I tend to respond.

In the 2nd movement of the second symphony, well there is disagreement over whether this dedicated to Edward or someone else or whether it is dedicated to anyone. For me, knowing it could be dedicated to someone could add an element of understanding, but here knowing Elgar is sufficient to gain the understanding that Elgar wants to express here, and that is clearly sorrow, sadness, and a funereal atmosphere. For you, I gather, it adds some immediacy or brings the music closer to your heart (or something along these lines) by considering the potential story line that you feel best addresses what you know of Elgar, his life, his music, his feelings when he may have written this, etc. I'm guessing a bit, and suspect that I am not being nuanced enough, but that is what I think you are saying. Both of us may feel the grief here and be equally touched by it, but the process of getting 'under the skin' of the music may be different. I think the result is probably similar, but the process is not.

That's pretty close, actually. And it's virtually unique to Elgar, I think. I don't play this game (it's a serious sort of game but with some fun content) with any other composer I can think of. I do it with Constable though (in painting) to some extent. PreRaphaelites all the time. Impressionists too to some extent.

Ha! This is all really about temperament in the listener, isn't it? See how selective I am: I don't listen to Mozart thinking about the biography at all!, and don't feel the need. When I listen to the Ring, Wagner the man never enters my thoughts. Seems to me that I'm making up the rules as I go along, aren't I? Well that's OK I guess. It's a case of following the path of greatest enrichment, and since I'm the only one required to follow the rules I make, then all's well. In the case of Elgar, my involvement with the man is so thorough and entangled that there's really no hope of listening to his music unaffected by what I know of him.

I was at the Three Choirs a few weeks ago to hear Caractacus at Worcester Cathedral (now there's a work you don't hear performed every day). And my preparation for that notable event, earlier in the afternoon, was not to look at the score, or read the libretto, but to climb up to the British Camp in the Malverns, where legend associates Caractacus (which inspired Elgar to write the cantata), and where I know he took Dorabella, talking the story through with her as they walked. You see how it is. I can't escape this particular narrative-based perspective. Not, of course, that I want to!

[mc ukrneal]

 
Yes that's exactly how I tend to respond.

That's pretty close, actually. And it's virtually unique to Elgar, I think. I don't play this game (it's a serious sort of game but with some fun content) with any other composer I can think of. I do it with Constable though (in painting) to some extent. PreRaphaelites all the time. Impressionists too to some extent.

Ha! This is all really about temperament in the listener, isn't it? See how selective I am: I don't listen to Mozart thinking about the biography at all!, and don't feel the need. When I listen to the Ring, Wagner the man never enters my thoughts. Seems to me that I'm making up the rules as I go along, aren't I? Well that's OK I guess. It's a case of following the path of greatest enrichment, and since I'm the only one required to follow the rules I make, then all's well. In the case of Elgar, my involvement with the man is so thorough and entangled that there's really no hope of listening to his music unaffected by what I know of him.

I was at the Three Choirs a few weeks ago to hear Caractacus at Worcester Cathedral (now there's a work you don't hear performed every day). And my preparation for that notable event, earlier in the afternoon, was not to look at the score, or read the libretto, but to climb up to the British Camp in the Malverns, where legend associates Caractacus (which inspired Elgar to write the cantata), and where I know he took Dorabella, talking the story through with her as they walked. You see how it is. I can't escape this particular narrative-based perspective. Not, of course, that I want to!

I love Caractacus (based on limited hearings). This is a recent acquistion for me (only listened to it once so far), but I have enjoyed it tremendously. It's going to take some time to take it in. But boy, are you lucky to have seen it live! Wowee! That's just awesome! It might be some time before you get another chance at it too.

[madaboutmahler]

FWIW, I came to like Falstaff much quicker than I warmed to the symphonies.

Interesting! Well, it certainly takes a very different mood than the symphonies, but is still Elgarian in pretty much every way! It is not my favourite Elgar work exactly, if I was to make a list of my top 10 favourite Elgar works it would probably just be outside the list.... I think that work lacks the beauty that makes the symphonies/concertos so special. But being a tone poem it obviously has to be depicting the story, which is not exactly a romance! It is interesting that someone has mentioned Strauss' Don Quixote here, as I very much see Falstaff as the "Don Quixote" of Elgar's output, in the way that it is much different than so many of his other works!

Have a nice evening everyone!
Daniel

[Elgarian]

I love Caractacus (based on limited hearings). This is a recent acquistion for me (only listened to it once so far), but I have enjoyed it tremendously. It's going to take some time to take it in. But boy, are you lucky to have seen it live! Wowee! That's just awesome! It might be some time before you get another chance at it too.

It's an old favourite of mine, and I never actually expected to be able to hear it performed live! Admittedly, it's a flawed work in some ways: the drama doesn't seem to work too well and I find the music is patchy - genuinely magnificent at times, but overall not-quite-making-it (trying to do more than he was able at that time, perhaps). I think of it as Elgar teetering on the brink of greatness, flexing his muscles just before coming to full bloom (ooh look Mum, a mixed metaphor!) in Enigma.

But there are some great tunes, some fine orchestral work, and some really splendid moments. People make a fuss about the jingoistically-worded finale, but my goodness what a tune, and what a hair-raising, blood-pumping, and larger-than-life conclusion it provides. For those few minutes, I say to heck with political correctness. Just let me wallow.

The conductor at Worcester was Andrew Davis, and I think it was a fine performance. I say 'think', because we had seats in one of the aisles with a 'restricted view' (though 'no view at all' would have been more accurate), assisted by big TV screens attached to the columns; and the acoustics weren't great, tucked away in there; and there was a certain feeling of not being allowed into a party but permitted to watch it from an adjacent room, along with some other only-partly-privileged folk, on TV. I take some consolation from the knowledge that Elgar had a favourite spot in Worcester Cathedral somewhere - bell tower, was it? - where he could lie on the floor with eyes closed and listen without the distraction of having to watch the proceedings. I guess he'd have turned the TVs off!

[karlhenning]

So this past May (has it already been posted about here?) EMI released The Elgar Edition: The Complete Electrical Recordings of Sir Edward Elgar, nine discs. Almost for Alan's discussion of In the South, alone, I'd be interested : )

[Luke]

So this past May (has it already been posted about here?) EMI released The Elgar Edition: The Complete Electrical Recordings of Sir Edward Elgar, nine discs. Almost for Alan's discussion of In the South, alone, I'd be interested : )

Thanks to all the Elgar-love stirred up by this thread I ordered that box last week, and am eagerly awaiting delivery (obviously I have some of its contents already, but the whole thing looked unmissable)

[karlhenning]

Thanks to all the Elgar-love stirred up by this thread I ordered that box last week, and am eagerly awaiting delivery (obviously I have some of its contents already, but the whole thing looked unmissable)

I did, indeed, pull ye trigger on this to-day, Luke . . . as it's shipping from the UK, I've quite a wait, but I am sure it will be well worth it!

Meanwhile: today the Chandos Spirit of England landed (listening to it e'en now!) and the Mordkovitch vn/pf disc . . . so I'll have lots of Elgar to enjoy this (US) holliday weekend : )

[Elgarian]

So this past May (has it already been posted about here?) EMI released The Elgar Edition: The Complete Electrical Recordings of Sir Edward Elgar, nine discs. Almost for Alan's discussion of In the South, alone, I'd be interested : )

I was in the same position as Luke. I had almost all of it scattered about on odd CDs here and there, as I'd been able to find them - but the prospect of having everything together in a single box (and a handsome box too, gentlefolks) was just too good to miss when it appeared earlier this year.

Gosh, it reminds me of some golden mornings many years ago, when Radio 3 broadcast an hour's worth of Elgar's recordings every day for a week, at some ungodly hour  (or so it seemed). I got up early every day just to listen to them. That was the first time I'd heard them. Could hardly believe it. First, I could hardly believe the high quality of the recordings; second, I could hardly believe this really was him; and third, I could hardly believe how different he sounded to some of the modern recordings I'd been used to. So many of them were taken much faster than I expected; some of the more languidly lingerish bits were swept along with no nonsense and no shilly-shallying, almost - one might wonder - as if he were impatient.

It's been suggested that many of the fast speeds were caused by the need to squash specific sections into separate sides of a 78, but that theory has been pretty comprehensively demolished (see, for example, the booklet in the box.)  Fact is, Elgar seems to have conducted most of his work with a sense of urgency because that was how he wanted it. Certainly it was very interesting when, a few days ago, I compared Andrew Davis's account of In the South with Elgar's, and discovered just how energetic Elgar made the music sound.

Addendum I wonder, Karl, if you already know or have Beatrice Harrison's recording of the cello concerto? If you don't, or haven't, it's in that box: Elgar's regular soloist of choice. 'Give it to 'em, Beatrice,' he said on one occasion as they went into the concert hall. 'Don't worry about the notes or anything. Give 'em the spirit.'

[Mirror Image]

Landed today:



Already listening to In the South. Absolutely gorgeous! Boult was just so damn good at conducting Elgar.

[kishnevi]

Gosh, it reminds me of some golden mornings many years ago, when Radio 3 broadcast an hour's worth of Elgar's recordings every day for a week, at some ungodly hour  (or so it seemed). I got up early every day just to listen to them. That was the first time I'd heard them. Could hardly believe it. First, I could hardly believe the high quality of the recordings; second, I could hardly believe this really was him; and third, I could hardly believe how different he sounded to some of the modern recordings I'd been used to. So many of them were taken much faster than I expected; some of the more languidly lingerish bits were swept along with no nonsense and no shilly-shallying, almost - one might wonder - as if he were impatient.

It's been suggested that many of the fast speeds were caused by the need to squash specific sections into separate sides of a 78, but that theory has been pretty comprehensively demolished (see, for example, the booklet in the box.)  Fact is, Elgar seems to have conducted most of his work with a sense of urgency because that was how he wanted it. Certainly it was very interesting when, a few days ago, I compared Andrew Davis's account of In the South with Elgar's, and discovered just how energetic Elgar made the music sound.

I don't remember who on GMG made the observation, and don't remember which composer was specifically being discussed at the time, but someone once commented that composers seem generally to conduct their own music at a faster pace than other conductors do. Apparently here is another instance.