John Gardner (b. 1917) is a composer who’s difficult to fathom. The light overture Midsummer Ale is delicious, full of good tunes, and well-orchestrated. The two larger, more serious works strike me as comparative failures, the concerto more than the symphony, though for very similar reasons. Gardner’s quick movements try far too hard to impress. They are full of angular, unmemorable themes that grind along from one climax to the next with little feeling of purpose or continuity. Gardner reminds me in this respect of William Schuman, at least a little bit, in that his strongly gestural language promises much more than it ultimately delivers. This is music going through the motions.
The scherzo of the symphony, for example, is beautiful, but the outer movements seem far too long for their material, and the final peroration, when it finally arrives, is unconvincing. The piano concerto is an unrelieved essay in harmonic monotony, a study in gray. Gardner’s personal version of dissonant tonality lacks the necessary contrast that creates tension, drive, and ultimately a discernible range of emotional expression. Certainly the performances lack nothing in enthusiasm or conviction, and they are very well recorded. The notes blame the absence of the First Piano Concerto from the concert platform on the inadequacies of the initial performances (under Barbirolli), but there’s another far more plausible reason: it’s just not very good music.
