Our critics cast their eyes over this month’s selection of books on classical music
Discovering Berlioz –
Essays, Reviews, Talks
David Cairns
Toccata Press 978-0-907-68958-4
400pp (hb) £39.50
David Cairns has devoted a lifetime to increasing our knowledge of and insight into Berlioz, and those who love his music will always be in his debt. Here the contents of what announces itself as ‘Volume One’ have previously appeared elsewhere in the form of books – including the writer’s acclaimed two-volume biography of his subject – various symposia on the composer, the Sunday Times, the Berlioz Society Bulletin and CD liner notes, as well as talks delivered on various Berliozian occasions. Everything is worth reading.
He’s particularly good on the extraordinary alteration in the composer’s reputation and frequency of performance driven by such events as the landmark 1957 production of Les Troyens at the Royal Opera House and the work of other enthusiasts, notably Colin Davis, whose interpretations really remain unsurpassed.
He has less space to discuss Davis’s predecessors while briefly quoting others on the earlier contributions of the likes of Charles Hallé and Thomas Beecham.
And it does Berlioz no favours to dismiss the operas of his Italian contemporaries as ‘simply not serious’ – something numerous Berlioz lovers would take issue with. George Hall ★★★★
Kaikhosru Sorabji’s
Letters to Philip Heseltine (Peter Warlock)
Ed. Brian Inglis & Barry Smith Routledge 978-1-138-47843-5 184pp (hb) £120
Correspondence is often used to inform our understanding of musical history, revealing facets of composers’ lives that might otherwise have remained hidden. Letters have unveiled Mozart’s scatological humour and Britten’s softer side. While composers Kaikhosru Sorabji (1892-1988) and Philip Heseltine (also known as Peter Warlock, 1894-1930) are not yet household names, their conversations during 1913-22 offer important insights into cultural developments at that time.
As the title suggests, the emphasis here is on Sorabji’s musings – often rambling essays, when his ‘pen runs away with him’ on topics including Schoenberg, Bayreuth, Buddhism and the First World War – to Heseltine, who is refracted through related correspondence and period publications. Far from having a jarring effect, this adds further colour and context, building a novellike narrative (there is one stomachchurning moment when Heseltine is acutely dismissive of Sorabji in a note to another friend). Sorabji has long been cast as an eccentric outsider; these letters are a reminder that, in the early 20th century, for a gay Indian man who loved alternative contemporary music, living in isolation was a means of self preservation.
Claire Jackson ★★★★★
How to Build an Orchestra Mary Auld & Elisa Paganelli Wayland 978-1-526-30983-9 48pp (hb) £13.99
I’m always interested in ways we can open up classical music to children and this colourful new book is a real winner. Produced in association with the LSO, it introduces a conductor (Simon) who needs to audition an orchestra for a special concert. As the auditions commence, we are introduced to the strings, woodwinds, brass and percussion with accessible descriptions and some of the most charming illustrations I’ve seen (by Elisa Paganelli).
Along with the words and pictures, a pair of discs bears some of the best examples of the sounds and music described. From Bach and Prokofiev to Berlioz and Copland, it is itself a superb selection of LSO recordings. I readily recommend going on the journey as laid out; listening to the music as you go really brings Simon’s orchestra to life, and with complete works by Ravel and Beethoven for the finale concert it ends in spectacular style.
Listening to full works might require too much attention for some little ones, but it’s a lovely experience and beautifully presented.
Michael Beek ★★★★★
Music – A Subversive History Ted Gioia
Basic Books 978-1-541-64436-6 528pp (hb) £30
This persuasive and entertaining book seeks to put the pizazz back into music history. Gioia challenges what he sees as the ‘pervasive ennui’ of the subject and its fixation on ‘long-dead composers [and] smug men in wigs’ by highlighting the dark underbelly of music-making across the ages. Dizzying in its scope, the book advocates music’s power to effect change across every realm of the human experience, be it politics, sex or war, and touches on everything from Neanderthal bone f lutes, Monteverdi’s madrigals, the backstory to Elvis Presley’s cover of ‘Hound Dog’ and the origins of rap. Readers already alert to the ongoing efforts of the so-called
‘New Musicology’ movement to illuminate the socio-cultural contexts of music-making may find fewer surprises here. However, Gioia’s work to highlight stories and voices often excluded from more academic accounts is commendable, and his colourful writing style does much to dispel the notion that music history need be stuffy or opaque. As Gioia concludes, music’s potential to change the world is accessible to performer, teacher, scholar and listener alike: ‘with music, we can all be wizards.’ Kate Wakeling ★★★★