Holst Sykes

The Planets, composed between 1914 and 1916, is a suite of seven movements. Holst's starting point for the music was the astrological character of each planet, though his interest in astrology went no deeper than its musical suggestiveness…

That The Planets occupies a place at the heart of the English musical repertoire is indisputable, yet much of Holst’s orchestral output is unjustly neglected. Chandos’ series demonstrates that Holst was a composer whose inventiveness and originality was not limited to one work. The series was originally to be conducted by Richard Hickox who sadly passed away in 2009 after completing Volume 1, released to great critical acclaim. Gramophone stated that ‘Richard Hickox’s final project, reviving little-known Holst works, is a triumph’.

Tasmin Little's 2013 release on Chandos is an exploration of lush and lyrical music for violin and orchestra, composed by the leading British composers of the early 20th century, and it is an album of remarkable depth and beauty. Opening the program is the Concerto for violin & orchestra by E.J. Moeran, which sets the mood for the disc with its long-breathed, melancholy lines and pastoral atmosphere. While this is a technically challenging work that shows Little to her best advantage as a virtuoso, listeners may come away from the piece recalling its sweet ambience more than its flashiness. The same could also be said for Frederick Delius' Légende, Gustav Holst's A Song of the Night, and Ralph Vaughan Williams' The Lark Ascending, all three of which provide tests for the violinist's skills, yet are filled with such gorgeous music that listeners may only remember the general opulence of the scores. Also included are premiere recordings of Roger Turner's arrangements of Edward Elgar's Chanson de matin, Chanson de nuit, and Salut d'amour, which in orchestration, mood, and style fit the rest of the album nicely.

Oh, My Girl, the second album by singer/songwriter Jesse Sykes and her band the Sweet Hereafter – led by Phil Wandscher – picks up where her debut, Reckless Burning, left off. Songs are played at cough-syrup tempo, production is sparse, instrumentation equally so, offering just enough of a frame for the melody and lyrics to hang themselves on, and everything, absolutely everything, is underplayed. There is plenty of dynamic tension, but little to no dynamic range. Yes, this is a good thing. Sykes' ghostly voice, which hovers about her words more than inhabits them, has enough old-world folkiness, raw – if intentionally muted – willingness, and lonesome country pain in it to carry off these tunes with authority. Produced, mixed and engineered by multi-instrumentalist Tucker Martine, Oh, My Girl is full of slow, dipping passion, moody expressionism and poetic smarts to make it stand out in a sensual, narcotic way from the rest of the gothic alterna-twang pack. And one more thing: Sykes has more emotion in the grain of her halting, cracking voice than a whole army of Margo Timmins'es – so let the comparisons stop now, please.

The precise moment that Holst's career hit its apogee can be fixed in history as October 7, 1925, the day his Choral Symphony, setting texts by Keats, was premiered in Leeds. Since the public premiere of The Planets in 1920, Holst had been England's most popular living composer. He was mobbed by his fans at the premiere, but its repeat in London with the same performers three weeks later bored critics and put the audience to sleep. From that moment, Holst's career started to slide and he was soon eclipsed by William Walton as England's most popular living composer.

Taking what talents they've garnered from previous bands such as Hominy and Whiskeytown, lead singer Jesse Sykes and guitarist Phil Wandscher are onto something far bigger than the two could have foreseen. The opening title track lends itself as much to Margo Timmins as it does to a latter-day Lucinda Williams à la "Lonely Girls" in its almost morose tempo and arrangements, making the nearly seven-minute song glide along effortlessly and, to the listener, far shorter. The following numbers offer the same barren sounds, evoking images of members recording the songs in a log cabin. The well-trodden but solidly produced tracks never waver, especially "Doralee" and the slightly upbeat, honky tonk of "Lonely Hill." Resembling a trace of Neil Young's "Harvest Moon," the tune discusses heartbreak over a cross between Appalachian music and traditional country twang. "Don't Let Me Go" is another fine gem that doesn't stray too far from Sykes' strong points.

The idea of John Eliot Gardiner not only doing Holst's The Planets, but doing it so effectively, shouldn't have come as a surprise, considering his broad musical culture and the success he has always had with large-scale works. His interpretation is quite reminiscent of Sir Adrian Boult's mid-'60s account with the same orchestra (then called the New Philharmonia)–tasteful yet full of character, impeccably played, energetic, fresh. On top of that, the recording is breathtaking. There is extraordinary inner detail, with string tone that is natural (as is the timbre of winds and high percussion) and an astonishing amount of weight in the bass. The coupling, Percy Grainger's The Warriors, is a wonderfully erudite touch–just what we should expect from Gardiner–and a romp for him and the orchestra.

Steinberg's tenure at the helm of the Boston Symphony was cut short by illness, but his relatively slim catalogue of recordings with the orchestra produced several important examples of his art, boasting truly fine interpretations and spectacular playing. These orchestral showpieces by Strauss and Holst were long overdue for reissue. Steinberg's fast tempos make the Strauss work zip by; it's as if he takes it in one big gulp, creating as exciting a performance as you're likely to hear.

Five years after the highly-praised release of Volume 3, Sir Andrew Davis returns to his exploration of Holst’s orchestral works with the brilliant BBC Philharmonic, a series initiated almost ten years ago by the late Richard Hickox, then taken over by another expert in British repertoire. This selection of orchestral works by Holst provides a remarkable overview of his career, ranging from such early works as A Winder Idyll – composed in 1897 when he was still studying at the Royal College of Music – to the Scherzo of a symphony on which he was working towards the end of his life.

Richard Hickox was a fine Holst conductor, and it was typical of his championship of English music and of his enthusiastically exploring mind that he should have left as one of his last records this collection of such-little known works… This is a fascinating record…