Ian Williams

In 2022 we celebrate the 150th anniversary of the birth of Vaughan Williams, and there is no better way to do so than with this album of brass band music. The album includes the composer's three pieces for brass band - Henry the Fifth Overture, Prelude on Three Welsh Hymns and Variations for Brass Band. In addition we hear the brass band version of the Tuba Concerto and many new arrangements of popular pieces by Paul Hindmarsh (who curated and produced the album) and Phillip Littlemore.

If there were an international style of conducting Vaughan Williams', Bernard Haitink would be its foremost practitioner. But although there have been international conductors who have taken up Vaughan Williams' very, very English music, virtually all of them took him up with English orchestras. Slatkin, Stokowski, even Rozhdestvensky used English conductors when they led their Vaughan Williams, and Haitink, the most international of international conductors, used the London Philharmonic for his Vaughan Williams. Ultimately, no matter how international Haitink's interpretations may be, his Vaughan Williams performance sounds as English as shepherd's pie.

In lifelong seclusion in rural County Wicklow, Ina Boyle created a legacy of song – tender, often melancholy, illuminated by an exquisite sense for harmony. ‘I think it is most courageous of you to go on with such little recognition,’ wrote Vaughan Williams to his pupil. ‘The only thing to say is that it does come finally.’

The recital begins with Keats and ends with Shakespeare: that can’t be bad. But it also begins with Stanford and ends with Parry; what would the modernists of their time have thought about that? They would probably not have believed that those two pillars of the old musical establishment would still be standing by in 1999. And in fact how well very nearly all these composers stand! Quilter’s mild drawing–room manners might have been expected to doom him, but the three songs here – the affectionate, easy grace of his Tennyson setting, the restrained passion of his ‘Come away, death’ and the infectious zest of ‘I will go with my father a–ploughing’ – endear him afresh and demonstrate once again the wisdom of artists who recognise their own small area of ‘personal truth’ and refuse to betray it in exchange for a more fashionable ‘originality’.