ORCHESTRAL Halle Orchestra (Heward): Symphony in G minor (Moeran); and Denis Matthews (pianoforte): Four Baga- telles (Rawsthorne). H.M.V. C331924 (12 in., 34s. 6d.). Auto., C7566-71.

This is described on the white-label pressings which I have as a "British Council recording": presumably a subsidised one, by the body which has sent out a good deal of British music, as propaganda, to foreign countries. The new move is a welcome addition to those means; here is a work strong in tensions, with lyrical episodes, most imaginatively scored: informal drama, tragic rather than humanelycomedic (though not for long doomdarkened) : a work to spend a lot of time on. Some of it—a good deal, indeed— should be spent on the score, which I have not seen. (The Rawsthorne fill-up, by the way, has not reached me.) The work was originally, I believe, meant as an invitationcomposition, the Hallé Society having asked the composer for a symphony as far back as about 1926.

The music appeals to me by reason both of strength, even roughness, and its notably lyrical sense. You can divide as you like the "influences " in Moeran—the Irish and those of Norfolk, where he long lived. Anything Irish attracts me—the more subtly Irish the better: we had perhaps rather too long a spell of the " Arrah, bedad, acushla, begorrah" school.

The first subject has a little figure of which good use is made; it is in bars 3 and 4. Pastoral pipings are not wanting: one is reminded at moments of Delius' spirit at others, of Russian stampings (e.g., start of side 2—tile development) ; with the almost inevitable flash of Sibelius' brooding: the Irish and the Finnish have some similarities, I think in these darker ways of poetic discharge. Bax, too, has been Irish like Mocran: something in common. The half-inch-in wood twirlings on side 2 are from the figure mentioned above (bars 3, 4). I do not feel that the matter hangs together too well, despite the working together of various elements of thematic matter ; the manipulation doesn't quite convince, somehow. The looseness is never scrappy, but there is probably something in me which makes me want to have things worked out with a surer logic than I think Moeran commands. There are delightful moments, but I don't quite feel the force of the passage of excitement early on side 3 : others may: good luck to them But I notice that all the composers who tend to the folk-modal type of writing use this sort of excitement" passage (V.W. of course comes to mind first) ; and I find it but forcible-feeble, I'm afraid

Second Movernent.—I feel again the Sibelian touch. There are two deep, darkish, moody violoncello themes (the first having a little flute addition), between which comes one for clarinets, with an upward leap. Simple material, and admirable for its purpose. This movement seems to live and grow much more naturally and richly. It has, I see, been called a " wintry elegy." But a good wintry elegy is one of the finest poetic evocations to hope for, isn't it? And Moeran is surely a poet: that is why I can always hear him with pleasure: and have often done so with great profit of spirit, I feel. A tiny plaintive figure of three notes, like a bird's lonely cry, pleases. The combinations of the themes produce some admirable tensity, which does not seem out of place in this elegy, of which one may like to think as a meditation on the exploits of some ancient Irish chief. The symphony has no "programme," so we can make each his own. Maybe the spirit of Butterworth (cf. his work recently recorded) lives afresh in Moeran. If you feel so, you are likely to appreciate both none the less: more, indeed ; for it is a spirit that music sorely needs.

Thus six sides (three to each movement). The Scherzo, with two, lbllows—a happy piece of imaginative rhythmery. Here, I think, we find the best of Moeran's skill in this kind: the neat tesselation of fragments. I'm not so sure, in other movements, whether, as they say, his reach is as long as his vision. He is certainly a charming seer, as regards these two inner movements.

Finale.—A slow, impressive introduction, with suggestions of two themes to come; then the 9/8 jig, first theme, on the first of the three final sides given to the work— side g. A wildish episode comes in, with a good deal of peremptory and rushing matter which reminds me of V. W. again— and once more, does not (yet) jell—for me. A capital way of introducing the second main theme is that pedal drumming. He has a strong sense of the more mysterious, even chilling, orchestral colours. The quieter themes that follow are also in his best vein—the spreading matter, e.g., at the turn of this side and side to. Development starts early on that side ; again Sibelian working-up, with brass challenges. Near the end of the side, amid dark murmuring, the horns, and (early on the last side) the strings, deal with the second subject, in severs-time.

its such a treatment I think Moeran shows once more his high skill. The question comes up, whether he is a longscale developer, or a fine artist in episode and dream-picture? Not, I think, both. This sort of writing for the orchestra, on any ground will draw everyone who loves its diverse magics. He is, perhaps, a rhapsodist, not a symphonist of any clear lineage but why limit the definition? If there be any very strong attraction for Moeran in both manner of speech (e.g., figuration) and orchestration, it is clearly Sibelius (though I would not clap too easy a label on a man because he makes an explosive and sudden ending to his work, as here: very much after the old man's manner). Lyrically, his gift does not here, I feel, widely expand ; but I fancy the symphonic form scarcely suits that sort of expansiveness : in any ease Moeran wears that "form" (whatever it may now have become) loosely enough. Of course, if and when he has Written as many symphonies as Sibelius and Bax, we shall have a better idea of how he stands towards it. At present, I feel that the looseness rather evades (unconsciously, probably) the symphonic shaping. I am not here bothering about the Scherzo, which has plenty of fine forebear-examples of a movement that isn't particularly "symphonic" (again, the refrain must come—" Whatever that may be ").

Moeran was forty-eight on the last day of 1942. This birthday recording should be followed by many others, for he has lovely matter in his mind. I see Grove speaks of an impression of " imperfectly disciplined material." Well, I'm not a martinet for discipline: rather, not for ancient disciplines, if the composer can find new ones that stimulate him, and don't cramp. I wish we could have some of Moeran's vocal music, especially the choral. Poor old England, once the world knew all thy choral glories! Now, if only recording would, and could, compass the best of the beauties written of late by men like Moeran, Finzi, Bliss. . . But let us give thanks for the present boon, whose whole recorded setting forth seems to me beneficent.

P.S.—After this was sent off, I received the Rawsthornc Bagatelles for piano. This composer (b. 1905) shows good qualities. We can do with some good piano writers, of a surety ! These little pieces, dated 1938 on the record, expound clear ideas, in a "study" fashion that has been well worked since Chopin. The gravity of the last has perhaps a Brahmsian tinge of thought. The others remind one, but by no means slavishly attend on, the older Russian types, which from Scriabin to Rachmaninov and Shostakovitch have stimulated us, and assured us of a goodly succession to the inheritance left by Chopin and Schumann.