Here’s a real discovery. British composer John Veale (b. 1922) enjoyed a successful career as a composer of concert and film music broadly in the tradition of William Walton and other basically tonal but thoroughly modern colleagues. Then he all but gave up composing as a result of the English serial mafia’s take over of the BBC in the 1960s (which essentially curtailed or even ended the careers of composers who did not tow the party line). It has been our loss, but like his colleagues George Lloyd and Berthold Goldschmidt, Veale now has found a reason to go on composing, and if this concerto offers any indication, continued interest in his music will be well worth the trouble.
Cast in the traditional three movements, the work reveals superb orchestral craftsmanship married to a confident and free command of form. The first movement alternates a lengthy moderato with a couple of allegro outbursts. The structural parallel to some symphonic and concerto first movements of Prokofiev and Shostakovich is obvious, though the music sounds more like Walton crossed with Lloyd. Still, it’s wonderful hearing such an emotionally appealing but never cheap or obvious piece of writing. The second movement “Lament” expresses sadness without wearing its heart on its sleeve, while the finale alternates brilliant burlesque episodes with abruptly contrasted moments of tender reflection.
Benjamin Britten’s lovely Violin Concerto deserves to be much more frequently performed in concert. It’s a masterpiece, and only the fact that it ends quietly (the kiss of death for most concert programming) accounts for its comparative neglect. Lydia Mordkovitch turns in a commanding performance, especially in the brilliant central movement. While she sustains the finale well, the extra two minutes that she and Hickox tag on to the composer’s own timing run the risk of stretching that quiet ending out a bit longer than necessary–but they do pull it off. Given what must have been her unfamiliarity with the work, Mordkovitch also does an excellent job with Veale’s concerto, this despite a couple of passing moments of unsteady pitch in the upper register. Hickox and his band accompany with characteristic accuracy and consideration for the soloist, and Chandos’ sonics are excellent. Really, what few flaws there are here hardly matter at all, and anyone who enjoys good modern violin writing or 20th century English tonal music will find this disc irresistible. Now how about a series of Veale orchestral recordings? He’s got three symphonies sitting around in some cupboard somewhere, and I for one would dearly love to hear them!
