The music of Erik Chisholm:
Piano concerto No.1 Piobaireachd (1937); Sonatina in G minor (1922);
Elegie Nos. 1, 2, 3, & 4
(1929-40);
Sonatina No.4 (1929-40); With clogs on (undated) played by Murray
McLachlan (piano) and the Kelvin Ensemble conducted by Julian
Clayton
Erik Chisholm (1904-65) was a Scotsman who also
had important associations with South Africa and an awareness
of the major composers of the first half of the 20th Century,
especially Bartók.
The principal work here is the 1st Piano Concerto Piobaireachd
which, in its revised version, dates from 1937: a recording of
a performance in Glasgow in 2000, its first since around 1940.
It is strongly influenced by Scottish bagpipe music, not least
in its long, espansive first movement. The exciting scherzo features
biting brass, and a few lapses of intonation here do remind us
that this is a student orchestra and a 'live' performance, but
both the beautiful Adagio and thrusting finale fare well. Murray
McLachlan gives a splendid account of the solo part and the 50-piece
Kelvin Ensemble support excellently in general.
The rest of a generously-filled disc is devoted to early, or earlyish,
piano solos by Chisholm recorded by Mr. McLachlan in South Africa
in 1999. These afford fair variety. The G minor Sonatina (1922),
rather long for the "Sonatina" designation (its three
movements take almost 18 minutes), is rhapsodic and sometimes
diffuse but is already well written for the instrument. The other
Sonatina is quite different, very brief and charming and based
on fragments of early Spanish lute music. Star Point explores
unusual sonorities which undoubtedly grow on one; the rugged Elegies
show Bartók's example applied to the Celtic idiom; With
Cloggs On is a substantial movement, impulsive and again rhapsodic,
perhaps inspired by Cornwall, also Celtic of course like Chisholm's
native Scotland and certainly brilliantly written for piano.
Mr. McLachlan's virtuosity and his sympathy with Chisholm emerges
in all these pieces and, all told, the disc satisfyingly expands
our knowledge of the composer, which was previously confined (on
CD) to a 1998 Olympia release.
The transfers have been excellently managed and, in general, this
is a very recommendable release. We are told that the record industry
is in decline but the enterprise of smaller labels continues to
delight and instruct us. Dunelm is up there with them.
Philip L. Scowcroft, August, 2001.
In an ideal world an award should also be handed out to the people
behind a recent release by Dunelm Records, a tiny outfit in Glossop,
Derbyshire. DRD0174 courageously offers the music of Erik Chisholm,
a Scottish composer and proselytiser for new music whose British
reputation faded once he moved to South Africa in 1946.
He's been called MacBartók. MacLiszt would fit, too. But
Chisholm is also his own man, and once you hear the bagpipe melody
weaving through the opening of his wildly unpredictable Piano
Concerto No.1 you are unlikely to forget it. The CD...captures
a vigorous account by Murray McLachlan, conductor Julian Clayton
and the fine Glasgow students of the Kelvin Ensemble, the first
performance since the 1940s. A Grammy for Classical Enterprise,
please.
Geoff Brown, "Every one's a winner", The Times, T2 music,
February 26th, 2002, p.18.
The three decades that followed the death of the Scottish composer
Erik Chisholm (1904-1965) cast him into an obscurity from which
he is only now emerging thanks largely to the efforts of the Erik
Chisholm Trust. ...music poured out of him...(and) his legacy
is generous. A complete worklist, biography and other details
are available at www.erikchisholm.com
The most consistent latter-day champion of Chisholm's music has
been his compatriot, the pianist Murray McLachlan...(see Olympia
OCD 639) and now he steps forward again on this compilationd disc,
with the first of Chisholm's two piano concertos and another selection
of piano pieces.
...(Chisholm's) music is sinewy, muscular, generally dark in tone,
cleft from the Celtic ethos as directly as Bartók's from
his Hungarian sources. In the First Piano Concerto (rev. 1937),
directly inspired by the pibroch -- the classical music of the
Highland pipes -- Chisholm extends decorative lines from his melodic
ur-material, which sounds as old and stark as Hebridean sea-cliffs.
The eight solo works here date from early in Chisholm's career...
McLachlan serves Chisholm well, with bright, intelligent performances.
The Kelvin Ensemble, which accompanies him in the Concerto, is
a student body, but you hardly have to make allowances for that
fact; the solo works were recorded live at a concert McLachlan
gave in Cape Town in 1999, which may account for the rather shallow
piano tone.
A fascinating release and, I hope, a harbinger of much more to
come.
Martin Anderson, International Piano, 5, (19), pp.68-9, January/February,
2002.
A few issues ago I reviewed Murray McLachlan's ground-breaking
Olympia disc of piano music by Erik Chisholm ...The Olympia disc
hinted at a figure of decided, rather irascible musical personality,
original ideas and definite gifts. This new compilation of live
performances put together by the courageous little Glossop-based
firm of Dunelm Records considerably extends our knowledge of Chisholm's
reach, and redoubles one's admiration of McLachlan's passionate
advocacy for this clearly significant figure.
The solo piano works, as played by McLachlan in Capetown in 1999,
are heard in a slightly boxy acoustic: only a minor impediment
to their appreciation in such capable performances. They are uneven
in approach and quality... impressive are the four "Elegies",
very black, percussive treatments of Celtic motifs rather in the
manner of Bartók, and these are surpassed by the pulverizing
ten-minute toccata entitled "With cloggs on", whose
undated manuscript appears to be all that survives of a lost "Cornish
Suite". McLachlan despatches it with bravura, and rises heroically
to the even greater virtuoso challenges of the principal work
on the disc, the four-movement "Piobaireachd" Concerto
which Chisholm himself premièred (in the revised version
heard here) in Edinburgh in 1938 under the baton of Ian Whyte...
This is an extraordinary piece -- recorded here, fortunately in
excellent sound, at its revival in Glasgow in 2000... The Kelvin
Ensemble players cope enthusiastically and on the whole successfully
with what must be a very tricky score. Although Chisholm's idiom
in this concerto has its echoes of Bartók and Prokofiev,
what strikes one most is the individuality of its sound-world
(the orchestral realisation of bagpipe music at the very opening
is spellbinding, and time and again one encounters extremely original
scoring), as well as the plangency of its slow music and the breathtaking,
irrepressible energy of its fast. ...a complex and substantial
work that clearly requires greater familiarity to take the full
measure of it. What one can say at this stage is that this concerto,
unheard for almost 60 years, is unlike anything else in the British
music of its time; and that McLachlan plays the daunting solo
part like a pianist possessed.
Calum MacDonald, Tempo, No.219/ January, 2002, pp.60-1.
This recording of Erik Chisholm's 1930 Piano Concerto Piobaireachd'
(pibroch), last heard in 1938 (that being broadcast - the premiere
was 1933) results from the enthusiasm of the composer's daughter
Morag, that of Murray McLachlan, and also of the Kelvin Ensemble,
who mounted a live performance (from which this recording was
taken) at the NAYO Festival on 28 August 2001.
Although published by OUP in 1939, finding a set of parts. proved
difficult, and the solo piano part had to be edited since it did
not match that in the score! It is therefore something of a triumph
that this exciting work can now be heard again, in an authoritative
performance -after 60 years, a sad reflection on the position
of the composer in Scotland over these years (only now being remedied,
at least in some measure, by a current if belated series of broadcast
concerts. Heaven knows what the Edinburgh Festival people think
about!)
A major work, of considerable scope orchestrally, taking material
from the music of the Scottish bagpipe, must be an adventurous
concept (even more so his 2nd Concerto on Hindustani themes *)
Apart from an earlier example, in name at any rate, in Mackenzie's
Pibroch Suite for violin, the only comparable example I can think
of is in the music of Ronald Stevenson (both his Passacaglia and
'Young Scotland' Suite). So this is Scottish music. The very opening
bars with their undercurrent drone and the delicate filigree of
the 'urlar', the 'theme' of the pibroch with here a characteristic
upward 6th, are surely evocative of the echoing stillness of a
highland vista - lochans and craggy slopes. Pibroch, the theme
with its variants and crowning 'creanluidh', its range circumscribed
by the limitations of the pipes with its nine-note scale and the
tang of the C and F sharpened microtonally, which add a unique
colour to the music, is nonetheless a virtuosic form. The Concerto
no less so.
Chisholm is not hampered by these considerations and the variants
include a toccata-like Scots dance and a slow richly lyrical episode
(reminiscent of the Bluebird dance in Busoni's Red Indian Diary),
the movement progressing to its ultimate 'creanluidh' - the culmination
of the movement. The second Scherzo is a rhythmic pattern, echoed
by trumpet, with echoes of the Cockle Gatherers' 'puirt a beul'
(literally 'mouth music' - vocal dance music.). A kind of jazzy
syncopation develops before the music dies away, but with a final
flourish. The stroke of a gong and tremolo strings suggest, in
the slow movement, a highland mist through which the piano essays
another pibroch-like melody, like pebbles falling in a clear pool.
Penetrated by a Baxian trumpet the movement progresses in a nocturnal
atmosphere of remote loveliness, becoming more and more intense.
The final movement's dance rhythms of reel and strathspey are
a foil to the darkness of the preceding movement, again recalling
the puirt a beul rhythm but with a kind of ribaldry.
There is an eclectic element in Chisholm's music - not surprising
given his activities as composer, conductor, lecturer, administrator
- his work in Glasgow in the 1930s and his subsequent role as
educator in Cape Town. The remainder of the disc is given to a
handful (a 'mighty' handful at that) of piano solo works ranging
from the 18 minute long G minor Sonatina to the brief but dramatic
First Elegie - all four Elegies are included and in these dark
songs of tragic import the aptness of McLachlan's sobriquet for
the composer of MacBartók is understandable. MacBartók
is even more prominent in the final work, enigmatically entitled
'With Cloggs On', an elaborate fantasy, described by the pianist
as "wildly rhapsodic, fiercely defiant, virtuosic, impulsive,
energetic and delightfully unpredictable" which he also suggests
could equally well describe its composer! It is certainly virtuosic
- as virtuosic as 'Islamey' or 'Bourrée Fantasque', and
as colourful.
The two Sonatinas are quite different in character - the two-movement
4th being an elegantly seasoned revitalising of old Spanish lute
music - the G minor, with plaintive dropping phrases and decorative
arabesque, largely reflective slow movement, which occasionally
sparkles like Billy Mayerl, and an athletic rondo finale. The
curiously entitled 'Star Point' turns out to be a most attractive
idyll, with a quasi-French influence recalling, in places, the
music of John Ireland.
This disc is a most welcome survey (as it were) of an unjustly
forgotten composer. I would trust that other major works - 10
operas, 2 Symphonies, 5 ballets, 4 Concertos - will not linger
unheard for another 60 years.
Colin Scott-Sutherland
*"We are really Orientals in our singing, and the gravity
of the Gaelic singers is that of the East". Hannagan 'Songs
of the Irish Gaels' CUP 1927.
This is the second all-Chisholm disc to appear. The first (from
Olympia) was a solo piano recital again from the hands of Murray
MacLachlan.
The Concerto is a gorgeous work twisted from the silk and hemp
of Bartók, Ravel and Szymanowski and the roughened cloth
of the Scottish Highlands. Praise be that this is no tartan travesty.
Chisholm delves as deep as Bartók, Novak, Karlowicz and
Szymanowski into their own glimmering hills and massy heights.
His successors include people like Edward Maguire, Ronald Stevenson
and Malcolm Macdonald (the latter of whose Waste of Seas needs
to be recorded in its orchestral version). Chisholm shows loving
respect for his spiritual sources but is not enchained by them.
Vividly fantastic energy shakes the rafters in the finale like
the progeny of say John Foulds' Dynamic Triptych and Walton's
Sinfonia Concertante both of which Chisholm would probably have
heard at Edinburgh's Reid concerts in the 20s and 30s.
The other works are for solo piano. Star point possibly flows
from Chisholm's interest in astronomy. It is a work of his teenage
years and would nestle well in a recital of Hovhaness's solo piano
music. The Sonatina in G minor is likewise a work of Chisholm's
teenage years proceeding gingerly at times and otherwise in awkward
Pierrot-like exploration. The Four Elegies are pithy, brief indeed,
rumbling with Bartókian clangour, dark moods and traces
of bagpipe skirl and abrasion. Chisholm has been dubbed MacBartók
and one can hear why. The Fourth Sonatina is a derivative work
drawing on the Spanish lutenists and has the feeling of the Rubbra
Farnaby Improvisations. The impact of these pieces registers well
and not all tentatively. With Cloggs On is the only surviving
or achieved movement of a Cornish Suite. Such defiance and violence
are in the line of Busonian virtuosity espoused by Ronald Stevenson.
Howard Ferguson's Sonata is perhaps a close cousin to this music.
Murray McLachlan is not one to half-heartedly embrace music. These
are all-out performances.
I understand that there is talk of a recording of the Second Piano
Concerto - The Hindoustani. Let us keep our fingers crossed that
this will produce a sequel to the present startlingly engaging
disc. There are also two sturdy 1930s/1940s symphonies in need
of attention.
All credit to Dunelm for picking up the gauntlet and running so
successfully with this challenge. The music of the British Isles
is a much more varied phenomenon than timidly popular anthologisers
would have us believe. Chisholm's is a dissidently nonconformist
voice amid the gentle mainstream.
Rob Barnett
** Reviews 5 & 6 are reprinted - with permission - from http://www.musicweb.uk.net/classrev/2002/May02/Chisholm_concerto.htm
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