Elgar Cello Concerto (EMI Classics) > Reviews > Praise for Pré

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Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E Minor, Op. 85
Jacqueline du Pre and the LSO, conducted by Sir John Barbirolli

Madam, you have an instrument between your legs capable of giving pleasure to thousands, and all you can do is sit there and scratch it!

So said the eminently witty conductor Sir Thomas Beecham, in reference to a lady ‘cellist. He certainly wasn’t, however, referring to the unmatchable Jacqueline du Pre, who, in my humble opinion, was the most gifted cellist ever and whose short, tragic life is somehow augured by this melancholic recording. It’s an EMI classic, which means that it’s an old, old recording, but so good that it shouldn’t be lost at the bottom of a pile of old vinyls at a jumble sale, but digitally re-mastered and made available for future generations on CD. The original recording of both pieces on this CD, (the Elgar Cello Concerto and his “Sea Pictures”), were made in 1965, but you wouldn’t know if I hadn’t told you and didn’t know du Pre died at the tender age of 42 in 1987. There is no discernible scratchiness and they are as fresh as if just whisked out of the oven at the EMI new discs bakery. I bought this CD because the Cello Concerto is one of my favourite pieces, and I was pleasantly surprised by the “Sea Pictures” which I wouldn’t have chosen as I’m not a big fan of operatic voices.

The Cello Concerto was Elgar’s swan song. It was his final big musical effort, written during the First World War. Elgar was suffering both mentally and physically at this time, and felt depressed and oppressed by the war, (who didn’t?), and the concerto echoes his mental state at that time. It’s not a happy piece; it’s dramatic, wistful, yearning and at times downright angry. It combines lyricism with spikiness and is disquieting. It’s an excellent piece to listen to if you’re feeling a bit miserable and want to wallow self-indulgently for half an hour, perhaps with a glass of rather strong red wine and a good brie. Don’t listen to it with anyone else and make sure it’s on quite loud for full anguish.

The Concerto is in four movements; I: adagio-moderato, II: lento-allegro molto, III: adagio, and IV: allegro-moderato-allegro, ma non troppo. (For the unenlightened, these ‘names’ just refer to how fast the music goes).

I

The Concerto starts with heart-wrenching, deep cello notes, which are echoed by the clarinet, in a pensive, tearful upward scale with penetrating chromatics. The main theme starts, and is perhaps recognisable for many of you. It’s lilting, in a minor key, rocking, with exquisite pauses on the penultimate note of each phrase. The strings enter, and the initially wispy melody fills out into a warmer, broader sound. The theme is repeated frequently. It’s tonal, at times majestic, at others wistful. The rolls of timpani and strident trombones then capitulate in a bathetic quiet re-entrance of the solo cello. This movement can’t fail to stir your heart.
In the second theme, the clarinet is prominent again, and sprightly little melodic leaps hint at hope but then the melody is again ultimately mournful. Perhaps I’m biased by the clarinet, being a clarinettist, but I find this so beautiful I want to cry. I can imagine a slow dance round a magnificent ballroom. There is about one beat per second; the music is in time with your heartbeat. Jacqueline du Pre’s Cello playing eerily echoes human emotions and the partnership of cello and clarinet to me is bitter sweet. It really makes me want to be able to play the cello. You need to close your eyes and turn up the volume; feel the vibrations of the thick cello strings like du Pre felt them resonate through the wooden body of her cello. Towards the end of this movement, you can experience some catharsis when the full orchestra re-enters after the final sad cello utterance, and it feels like some kind of retribution. 8”

II

Pizzicato strings fire off the 2nd movement. Elgar plays with silence between snippets of theme and broken chords. Du Pre’s superb technique is showcased here with some fiendish double stopping, (playing two notes at once), on the cello. I find it’s much harder to latch onto the theme in this movement; it’s more like recitative – disjointed thoughts and distracted flightiness, until the flutes and other woodwind signal the entrance of the 2nd theme. This is cartoonesque, and I imagine mice scuttling around and away from a tomcat in some manic dash for survival. Two minutes into this movement the tonality become major, briefly. It’s a light interlude after the heaviness of the first movement. Bits of recognisable theme are a relief after the frantic scuttling. It’s not in the same league as the outstanding first movement, but still good stuff. 4”25

III

The nostalgic third movement has a lyrical start, which is languid and relaxed after the rushing around of the second movement. You could sing this one, or at any rate you can certainly pretend you’ve got a cello and pull intense expressions of emotion as you play. This is the most self-indulgent movement and du Pre lingers voluptuously on each note. My mind conjures up a flickering black and white silent movie with the heroine in her hero’s arms, finally succumbing to his advances with a chaste, (but in those days no doubt scandalously shocking) peck on the lips. Think rustling dresses with tiny waistlines and gentlemen with pencil moustaches and lashings of Brill Cream, BBC RP accents and most certainly a cigar. 5”13

IV

The fourth is drama from the outset. It’s all gone horribly wrong again in Elgarville. The momentary relief of the third movement is shattered and we are back to reality. There are accented, high cello notes which tumble into falling arpeggios only to resolve uncertainly into sighs and scales which rise and fall without assuagement. A spikyish theme is introduced after 1”40; there’s angst here and just a little craziness too. Quick modulations of key add to the restlessness. Thoughts flit from one crisis to another without any real conclusion to any of them. The quick spirited cello theme laid over more the placid orchestra make the orchestra sound like it is trying to placate the cello, but the distraction is too much. One by one, the other instruments succumb to the prickly theme and take it up. Your ear can’t rest throughout this. You’ll be supping your wine a bit more quickly too. There are menacing timpani and farting trombones, and definitely hints of Pomp and Circumstance in this (the bit just before Land of Hope and Glory starts). After 7 minutes the whole thing slows down like it’s run out of energy. It’s no happier, perhaps resigned to its fate like the proverbial dying swan. The melody is quite chromatic again, but is Spartan compared to beginning of this movement. Then more of orchestra builds up, little by little, and you know it’s heading somewhere, but where? Well, to a lush major chord which fills out your heart but then immediately resolves into the minor again, and then dies away again. There is suspense- will the piece die quietly here or spring back to life? Then at 11”30, oh yes- Elgar prods you awake again after lulling you almost to sleep, with the dramatic short sharp shocks of the opening and a recap of the main theme. You’ve hardly woken up though, when the piece abruptly finishes at 12”12 with a timpani roll and a big menacing minor chord. Brilliant.

I think what makes this recording so unique is the combination of du Pre and Sir John Barbirolli. Du Pre was only 20 and Barbirolli was 65 at the time. Barbirolli had taken part in the first ever performance of this piece, in 1919, and was the soloist in a 1921 performance. He lived and breathed this concerto and had an incomparable understanding of it. As the conductor of the LSO with du Pre on Cello, two of the greatest musical minds were in collaboration and produced something rather special. It’s also the recording which launched du Pre’s career. Sadly, in 1973 she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis which quickly destroyed her musical ability and led to her untimely death.

Elgar’s “Sea Pictures”, Op. 37

These were new to me, and grow on me a little more every time I listen (and I’m on my third consecutive playing as I type!) Written much earlier than the Cello Concerto, in 1899, the Sea Pictures are scored for full orchestra and alto voice, in this case, Dame Janet Baker. There are 5 pieces, all of which summon up the sea quite effectively, while maintaining Elgar’s distinctive ‘English’ sound.

1. Sea-Slumber song. The first song in the set is lilting and low, and Janet Baker’s bell-like like alto voice is gentle and passionate, well-balanced at both ends of the spectrum. All the songs are in English and the CD booklet provides the words, so you could have a go a singing along yourself. But you’ll sound pants- Baker makes it sound easy, but of course it isn’t.
2. In Haven. Are you feeling safe? This is a simple, plaintive melody. Baker sings with a delicately orchestrated accompaniment, which echoes her snatches of melody and compliments her voice colour perfectly. Moments of the high strings in unison with her voice bring out the richness of her contralto.
3. Sabbath Morning at Sea. A major key start is hints at a potentially more joyful song, but this is short-lived. In fact, this one feels quite bleak and cold, grey skies and a chilly wind.
4. Where Corals Lie. This is my favourite one (and I was quite disappointed to read in the booklet that in fact it’s everyone’s favourite- am I so unoriginal?!), There’s a haunting melody, and the soloist’s lyrical tune is accompanied by off beat orchestra chords. Open octaves and fifths add to the bareness of the situation. Baker has a perfectly executed rubato, and her melody ending on a minor third is beautiful. She hits some exceptionally low notes here- I wish my voice were low enough to have stab- I have to keep jumping up and down to an adjacent octave. I’ve put this one on repeat. One minor criticism though; Elgar should have finished this with a minor chord…
5. The Swimmer. There’s an expectant start. It’s classic Elgar, yet operatic at the same time. I’m not so keen on this one, as it’s a bit patriotic sounding. It would probably sound better in a large concert hall with good acoustics, as Baker has some big notes belted out and she goes up quite high for a low voiced woman. It’s a pity for a great CD to end on an inferior piece, but it makes me reach for the “play” button immediately so I can get another dose of the fantastic first movement of the Cello Concerto, so perhaps it’s not such a bad thing after all!

Dame Janet Baker is another UK talent. She was born in 1933 has had a distinguished operatic career. Her most highly regarded performances are those of Elgar and also Mahler. She was awarded the DBE in 1976, 8 years after her first collaboration with Sir John Barbirolli. Personally, I don’t really go for operatic female voices at all, but Baker has a mellow quality to her voice which is pleasing. The Sea Pictures are quite short, between two and six minutes each, and so are quite accessible to anyone.

I’d highly recommend this CD to anyone- if you know the music already, then this is possibly the best recording you could find. If you don’t know Elgar’s Cello Concerto, then it’s time you got acquainted with it! The booklet included with the CD is quite short, but informative and interesting. It comes in one of those nice cardboard box covers, so would make quite a nice present too.

The CD is available from Amazon currently at £11.29.

Note to Berlioz (the living one). I’d been meaning to write this review for ages and then lo and behold I saw you’ve recently done one yourself! I deliberately didn’t read yours so that I wouldn’t be influenced by it in any way, but I will read it after this has been published on ciao!