IN my recent welcome letters to new members I have said that "this year promises rare and exciting events" and this performance of Appalachia in Sheffield was a suitable opener for those sentiments. Though I have endlessly listened to and loved this work over many years through various recordings, I have never before heard it performed live. Indeed, it is a work so rarely given that a performance by any enterprising orchestra and chorus rising to the challenge is worthy of support and encouragement.
And so it was that I travelled the 100 miles or so to Sheffield and, in the company of Brian and Jo Radford, joined the 350 or so strong audience who packed the church of St Mark's Broomhill in Sheffield. As a concert venue this is a deceptively apt building; though the tower and spire largely escaped bomb damage, the rest of the church did not - and so the main body of the church is now a sympathetically re-built exterior with an open, modern interior. There is space for considerable orchestral forces to assemble on a level with the audience, and for this concert the chorus was discreetly seated to the side and rear of the orchestra.
The evening was divided into two fairly neat halves, and with the first given over to Dvorák's New World Symphony, the programme was quite obviously intended to be on an American theme. John Longstaff's conducting style and control was firmly established from the outset and the response from the orchestra was never less than exciting, and in my opinion worthy of any non-professional group. I hope, though, that I will be forgiven for not dwelling on the Dvorák - because it was obviously the Delius we had really come for - but it did serve to ratchet up our expectations and excitement for what was to come after the interval. The introduction of Appalachia is all important in setting the atmosphere for the rest of the works and here the first few bars were taken at a slightly swifter pace than I had been used to hearing; more of a 'leap out of bed sunrise' than a gradual awakening - but possibly John Longstaff was intent on immediately getting to grips with that vital flow of Delius's music. In any event the tempo quickly took a breather and gently eased to create those 'moods of tropical nature' as noted by Delius on the original score. Throughout this and the first variations the woodwind section were particularly fine, and so when we came to that change of direction at the fourth into the swinging waltz; it was nicely developed into the gentle tune on high muted strings that always reminds me of Touch her soft lips and part from Walton's Henry V. This passage is surely the one that Eric Fenby remarks upon as Delius's "moment of revelation; at last he knew what was in him to do".*
The first entry of the wordless chorus was judged to near perfection, in that it achieved the hoped for ethereal quality of coming in so imperceptibly as to be heard almost as just another instrument of the orchestra. The discreet and level placing of the choir meant that they were not easily visible by the audience, and this also accentuated the feeling of mild surprise at their entry. A thrilling account of the brisk march tune came soon after, and followed in solemnity towards the heart and conclusion of the whole work. At around this point the choir moved out of their seats to come forward and stand as more of a part of the orchestra; then, exactly on cue, the soloist David Townend, a man of impressive physical appearance as well as voice, launched into the very familiar "Oh Honey, I am going down the river...". Though brief, this role requires a voice of convincing sensitivity, projection and timbre to be at all successful. These qualities he had, and they carried the choir into the concluding chorus in a way so intensely moving that the work's soft lament drifting way 'down the mighty river' left a moment of stunned silence before the orchestra erupted into long and well deserved applause.
The first half of this concert was very good, the second half was something quite special - and John Longstaff, the orchestra and the choir are to be congratulated on a performance that will stay long in the memory. Let us hope that they will give it again sometime in the future so that others including many more Society members can experience the same as ourselves. Thanks also to the Delius Trust for their enthusiastic and well-justified support.
© Stewart Winstanley 2006
The Delius Society
*Fenby on Delius; ed Stephen Lloyd (Thames Publishing 1996, p173)
Sheffield Symphony OrchestraBringing the Broomhill Festival to a triumphant close were the players of the Sheffield Symphony Orchestra celebrating their 50th Anniversary. Under the baton of John Longstaff, the quality of their playing showed why the BBC had chosen to record the concert.
The evening opened with an effervescent account of Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro overture before a dramatic performance of Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto played by the multitalented Peter Foggitt. Not all the drama was at the keyboard; Peter, a Third Year Cambridge music student, had been a late substitute and learned the piece in a mere seven weeks. At times his playing was suggestive of Rachmaninov himself. Certainly a name to watch out for in the future.
In the second half Till Eulenspiegel by Richard Strauss provided a lively opener before the orchestra played “Girl Crazy” - a scenario for orchestra by Gershwin, which allowed us a second opportunity to hear Peter Foggitt at the piano.
The evening was rounded off with a rousing performance of Malcolm Arnold’s Duke of Cambridge March in an orchestration specially written to celebrate the talents of this fine orchestra.
Andrew Calow