Malcolm Arnold - Symphonies Nos. 5 and 6

Malcolm ARNOLD (1921-2006)

Symphonies Nos.5 and 6

National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland
Andrew Penny

The British have been enthusiastic standard bearers of the symphonic tradition in the 20th century, witness the numerous and very memorable cycles transmitted to us by Vaughan Williams and Bax, of course, but also Tippett, Simpson, Rubbra and Arnold. Of these, Arnold - as the prolific author of a series of brilliant film scores and witty concertos (including a Grand Concerto Gastronomique for eater, waiter, food and orchestra) - is perhaps least widely known as a serious contributor to the symphonic tradition. In continental Europe very few music lovers will be familiar with his work. And I have yet to hear an Arnold symphony played by a non-British/Irish orchestra. Nevertheless, his 9 symphonies are a significant a statement as any of his distinguished colleagues. The orchestral brilliance and raucous humour so evident in his occasional music are an equally prominent feature of the symphonies, but there they are counterbalanced by a particularly gritty sense of loss and fatality. Despite the witticisms and pastiche, Arnold was a tormented, unpredictable personality that was given to an intense struggle with his inner demons. But he was also a great craftsman with a natural ability to knead this combustible material into compelling, classically proportioned symphonic structures.

The Fifth and Sixth symphonies occupy a middle place between the more ebulient group of the first four symphonies and the darker hued final trilogy. The emotional ambit of the Fifth is very difficult to chart. Although the first movement is marked "tempestuoso" its dominant mood is a reflective, bittersweet serenity, occasionaly punctured by jagged outbursts. Oboe, pizzicato strings, tubular bells and harp set down the brighter end of a unique orchestra colour palette from the very first few seconds. Later on autumnal strings and wistful brass solos in their lower registers (horn, tuba) introduce a more somber element. Structurally we feel the hand of a master symphonist although Arnold does not rely on traditional templates. The thematic material is constantly evolving in unpredictable ways, morphing into a shadowy procession of alternately endearing and ghostly figures.

The slow movement - marked "andante con moto" - is a warmly expansive utterance, richly harmonised and built around a nostalgic, flowing theme. In the context of the radically avant garde 1960s writing such a melody was considered to be a sign of wilful naiveté and Arnold was crucified for it by the critical establishment. In our postmodern age the pendulum has swung back and simplicity and spirituality in music (Pärt, Gorecki and other pious minimalists) have been re-embraced. Arnold's andante goes beyond that in combining a nobility of speech with his characteristic grit.

Two shorter, faster movements bring the symphony to a close. The scherzo is a riotious affair which thematically and texturally connects to the introductory movement. The finale starts in high spirits as a kind of military tattoo, but soon strings start to weave ominous patterns and with the piccolo shrieking in utter alarm and percussion pounding it seems as if proceedings are under siege. This surreal atmosphere gives way to a restatement of the D major theme of the slow movement in unabashed splendour. It's hard to position oneself as a listener vis-à-vis this kind of apotheosis: is it vulgar kitsch or is there genuine depth of expression? These are the kinds of questions that are also prompted whilst listening to Shostakovich. Arnold's Russian counterpart comes to mind more than once when studying the former's Fifth symphony. Shostakovich's Fifteenth shares its emotional ambiguity in oscillating between childlike innocence and understated tragedy (incidentally, both Arnold and Shostakovich used 12-tone rows in the first movement of their respective symphonies). I'm also thinking of Shostakovich's Sixth symphony, a tilted three-movement structure consisting of a very long introductory largo followed by two boisterous fast movements. In the Arnold symphony the two first movements also function as a predominantly reflective introduction to the scherzo and finale. Arnold's Fifth characteristically ends with a question mark: the apotheosis dies down and again the first movement's questioning chords on the tubular bells supported by sombre strings, morendo.

The Fifth and Sixth symphonies are separated by six tumultuous years (all three of Arnold's siblings died, he divorced and re-married, moved away from London to rural Cornwall and fathered an autistic child). The Sixth is often considered to be the most enigmatic of the nine symphonies and it's relatively less performed. It's indeed a colder and at first sight less ingratiating work. Surprisingly, Arnold takes his cue from contemporaneous developments in jazz and pop music. The first movement has been said to be inspired by Charlie Parker and weaves many `Bird'-like figurations in its fabric. It's a tempestuous movement that is grafted on a hypnotic rhytmic spine of jazz-like running pizzicato basses. It features many memorable ideas, a lamenting melody introduced by the oboe and later taken over by the strings being one of the more disquieting. The most startling passage - Paul Jackson, an Arnold biographer, finds it "bizarre and grotesque" - is a succession of two savage crescendos, one of 16 bars and the other of 18, over a `sleazy' riff in the lower strings. It's the kind of thing that lingers in one's mind a long time after having listened to this symphony. As in the Fifth, formally the movement doesn't rely on received schemata. Piers Burton-Page has written about the first movement: "Arnold generates his own brand through complexity (...) thematic layers collide, become paralysed, break free, and then generate further argument, in textures of real orginality and uneasy rhythmic complexity, culminating in a fierce climax." Which would seem to be very applicable to the first movement of the Fifth symphony as well ...

The second movement is a brooding lento which always makes me think of these early science-fiction films in which vulnerable spacecraft travel through vast swaths of menacing emptiness. Arnold characteristically dispels the funereal atmosphere with a breezy `big band' gig, giving way to frenetic, circus-like bustle and then a savage march over a pounding ostinato in the timpani before connecting back to the introductory "space" music. The movement ends in a most surprising way with a long, ear-shattering crescendo in B natural on the trumpets.

The finale of this three-movement work is a boisterous rondo built around a brash, galloping main theme in the brass. Again Shostakovich seems to lurk in the background. There is a most lovely episode, just before the final recapitulation of the main theme, with a lyrical, sunny theme in the strings that is repeated three times. The end is less equivocal than in the Fifth: the main theme simply brings the work to a joyous conclusion.

In short: two marvellous and endearing symphonic masterpieces. I have a particularly soft spot for the Fifth, which opened for me the door to this fabulous symphonic cycle, but the more I listen to the Sixth, the more impressive it gets.

Andrew Penny delivers commendable performances with his Irish forces. Naxos' recorded sound is very clean and transparant. If I wouldn't know any other interpretations I could very well live with these recordings. As it stands, the catalogue offers (or offered) some alternatives, some of which outshine the Naxos disc. The composer himself recorded the Fifth Symphony with the City of Birmingham Orchestra for EMI back in 1972. It is a splendid reading - coupled with a very worthwhile Second symphony under Sir Charles Groves - that is currently sadly unavailable (Arnold: Symphonies 2 & 5/Peterloo Overture). In comparison Penny sounds a little cautious and less characterful. Particularly the all-important solos in the Arnold recording seem to be more empathetically played. It is a recording to which I will always return.

The Sixth symphony has been recorded by, amongst others, Vernon Handley and the Royal Philarmonic Orchestra (Symphony No. 6; Fantasy on a Theme of John Field; Sweeney Todd Suite; Tam O'Shanter Overture). Again, although the Naxos version is fine, Handley delivers it with more bite and appreciably greater depth of feeling. His Lento is almost two minutes slower compared to Penny. Another advantage, for some, is that Handley couples the Sixth with some lesser known pieces in Arnold's output (the Sweeney Todd concert suite, the Tam O'Shanter Overture and the Fantasy on a Theme of John Field for piano and orchestra).

However, given the budget pricing of this CD and general high quality of the recording, it certainly deserves five stars. Arnold afficionados should look beyond the Naxos disc to some of the other superb recordings of these works.