If you want something out of the ordinary in
terms of Elgar fare, then there’s three minutes on this disc which
should extend your collection; but that’s not to dismiss the rest
out of hand. Mark Elder is making something of a name for himself
as an Elgarian, and is in the best of possible places to do so
considering that his predecessors in his post in Manchester include
Richter, Harty and Barbirolli. On the other hand that roll call
could make it a hard act to follow. The full orchestra is listed
at the back of the booklet, and one wonders how many of them were
playing in Barbirolli’s day thirty odd years ago, for the three
conductors listed above formed a fairly continuous line to pass
on the tradition, while Elgar himself was a frequent guest and
friend to all three men. That does not happen these days. Now
we have moved on, the Free Trade has given way to the Bridgewater
Hall. Michael Kennedy has given the Elder era his blessing and
quite rightly so, the first movement of the symphony, right from
its stately outset is full of Elgarian ebb and flow in terms of
its rubato, and the balance of tempi is generally finely judged.
The scherzo fizzes with excitement, tautly controlled in its dynamic
range and colourfully judged in highlighting instrumental solos
of the moment, although Lyn Fletcher’s sweet tone as leader could
have been given more prominence. The link to the Adagio is particularly
effective in its tension, the interpretation never self-indulgent.
Elder’s background in opera is at its dramatic best in the introduction
to the finale, where the opening bass-clarinet and bassoon transport
the listener into the realms of Nibelheim. I have never heard
the combined first and second trombones sound so effective (just
a hair’s breadth on the right side of vulgarity) at the second
half of the bar at fig.110. The back-desk string players clearly
enjoy their fifteen bars of fame (they even get another chance
to shine later), and then the Allegro itself gets underway at
what seems like an overly-hurried tempo, but actually turns out
to be a shade under the composer’s marking of minim/84. The second
thematic idea at figure 114 and again at figure 137 correctly
ignores the piano dynamic (Elgar told Richter on 3 October
1909 that it should be forte), the Hallé brass blaze
away as the movement develops, and the woodwind triplets at figure
127 are prominent where over-exuberant violas and cellos often
smother them. Figure 130 threatens overt sentimentality (it’s
a hard moment to resist and one never wants it to be over in my
experience of conducting this symphony), but the outburst at the
climactic top B flat half a dozen bars before figure 134 is effective
only because of a finely controlled crescendo, held back until
the last possible moment. I regret the absence of the Barbirollian
hiatus across the barline four and three bars before figure 143,
but the portamento linking G to D in the first violins
at the second and third bars of figure 144 is a stylish touch,
while the brass in this passage are superb. Elder does not hang
around at the stringendo, more like a subito piu mosso,
its excitement topped by a final crescendo to the last chord,
which will satisfy.
This generous supply of Elgar continues with
an equally exciting account of In the South (Alassio),
the Hallé at its best, the glorious horns enjoying their
moments of Richard Strauss. This is hardly surprising, as Elder’s
forays into that composer’s operas were always highly rewarding
experiences at English National Opera during his heyday there
as Music Director in the 1980s. His interpretation emphatically
underscores the mutual admiration between Elgar and Strauss, with
lush string textures followed in stark contrast by the edgy brittleness
of the ‘conflict of armies’ section between figures 20-26. Timothy
Pooley’s excellent viola solo has delicate poignancy, inspiring
Laurence Rogers (principal horn) to a couple of lyrically shaped
responses. Then it’s back to more Strauss (those single allargando
bars of four quavers straight out of Rosenkavalier), though
the Elgarian fingerprints are never far away, such as the occasional
connecting portamento in the strings. From figure 53 more
excitement is generated by ever-increasing speeds and meticulously
observed dynamic changes (Elgar and his masterly use of sudden
changes to piano), but as is so often the case with Elgar,
it’s the horns who lead a hero’s life, or in this instance a Heldenleben.
In July 1904, three months after In the South
was given its first performance, Elgar set some verses by Shelley
to the canto popolare and called it ‘In the Moonlight’.
With the viola solo fresh in the ear it makes a fitting conclusion
to this disc, and Christine Rice sings it with both feeling and
warmth of tone.
Christopher Fifield
Hallé Orchestra/Mark
Elder (conductor/piano) 
