Classical Explorations — August 2025
Ralph Vaughan Williams
Prelude: The 49th Parallel
Vaughan Williams isn’t necessarily a composer we associate with film music but during his illustrious career, he penned eleven film scores – this being his first in 1941. Written at the height of World War II, the film is centred around six survivors of a stranded boat in Canada making their way to freedom and a wartime call for unity against totalitarianism. RVW’s score accompanies the spectacular Canadian scenery. This gorgeous melody seems to embody RVW’s mantra of championing music for all: accessible, universal and outright beautiful. This new recording by the Czech Symphony Orchestra captures the essence of RVW’s innovative writing fused with English folk tradition. I especially like the sonorous and sustained sound the CSO make under conductor Michaela Rózsa Růžičková.
Max Reger
4 Tone Poems after Arnold Böcklin, Op.128: No.2 Spiel der Wellen
I wouldn’t go as far as Stravinsky who called Reger “repulsive”, but I will admit that I am not usually a fan of Reger’s music which I have found to be rather dry and academic. This recent release caught my attention for its colourful and highly effective writing, heightened by the brilliant playing of the Gävle Symphony Orchestra (Sweden). Written in 1913, these four tone poems are inspired by four paintings by the Swiss symbolist painter Arnold Böcklin. The second, In the Play of the Waves, evokes the shimmering, playful tension of the sea with swirling orchestral colours. Upon a little research, I was interested to learn the third movement was based on Böcklin’s Isle of the Dead, made famous by Rachmaninov’s work of the same name written just six years earlier in 1907. Reger himself described this work as an excursion into programme music, contrasting with his generally more abstract style.
Paul Hindemith
Konzertstück for Trautonium with String Orchestra
(Please note this work is not available on Apple Music. If you do not have Spotify, you can listen on YouTube.)
Paul Hindemith was a hugely important 20th‑century German composer, teacher and theorist, though he never reached the superstar status of some of his peers. His music often came across as dissonant and a bit too “serious” for general audiences – a bit too academic for easy listening. He rejected Schoenberg’s atonal serialism, but equally moved away from Romantic lushness, carving out his own neo‑classical style: tonal, ordered, but full of modern twists. One of the things I really like about Hindemith is his curiosity for unusual sounds. He wrote for all sorts of odd instruments, from the heckelphone to the viola d’amore, and even early electronic gear. A great example is his 1930 Konzertstück for Trautonium and Strings. The Trautonium was a pioneering electronic instrument, a kind of proto‑synth. Instead of a keyboard, you played it by pressing along a metal wire to control pitch, with buzzing sawtooth tones generated electronically. I’ve always been fascinated by synthesisers and their history. From 2016-2019 I co‑ran the UK dealership for Eminent organs, which used additive synthesis. At one point I even wrote a history of synthesisers, discovering that the roots go all the way back to 1759! So, Hindemith diving into early electronics feels wonderfully ahead of his time – and right up my street.
Eunike Tanzil
Reverie
Making her debut on the Deutsche Grammophon label, Indonesian performer/composer Eunike Tanzil has released this pre-release track with the full album arriving in September. Tanzil herself performs on piano, celesta, bells and even a snare drum! This track is light, playful and enchanting, not a million miles from the art-house tones of film scores like Amélie or Midnight in Paris. Tanzil writes: “There’s a story behind each track, and all the tracks are based on personal experiences, specifically first experiences – the key moments in my life that shaped me into who I am today,” she explains. “Once I found the flow and knew what the album was going to be about, it all came very naturally.”
Jenni Brandon
Fin de la Tierra: Land's End: Concerto for Clarinet and Chamber Orchestra
Jenni Brandon’s Fin de la Tierra: Land’s End is a captivating clarinet concerto that draws its inspiration from the beauty and diversity of the Sea of Cortez (California). Written as an exploration of this unique landscape and its ecosystem, the work spans approximately 20 minutes and is performed here with great sensitivity and wit by clarinettist Jeremy Reynolds alongside the Janáček Philharmonic. Brandon’s orchestral writing reveals a striking palette of textures, from delicate pizzicato strings and sparkling harp figures to glistening bells and colourful percussion, all of which provide a luminous environment in for the solo clarinet. The soloist’s line seems to ebb and flow organically, weaving in and out of the sparkling orchestral fabric.
Herbert Howells
Piano Concerto No.1 in C Minor, Op.4: i. Allegro moderato
You know how some music can instantly take you back to a particular moment? That’s exactly what this piece does for me. Last month, I shared Howells’ Rhapsodic Quintet, which sparked a trip down memory lane to my student days at Colchester Institute in 2001, my first year of undergraduate studies and when I first discovered Howells. Paul Spicer’s biography compares Howells’ music to medieval craftsmen carving angels hidden high in cathedrals – works made with love and dedication, even if rarely seen. Howells composed this concerto while studying at the Royal College of Music. It’s delicate counterpoint and recurring references to God (always in E major) reflect the deep care Howells put into his music. Until the year 2000, the concerto was unplayable because the last few pages of the original score were missing. Thanks to a new edition edited by John Rutter, who completed the missing bars, the concerto could finally be heard. I loved this recording so much, I persuaded the Colchester Institute Library to buy the full score. Their response? “Who else is going to use it, Shea? Are you sure it’s needed?” Now, 24 years later, I wonder if that score is still there – and if its return label might tell a story of its own.
Franz Schubert
Winterreise D.911: No.24 Der Leiermann
If the public were asked to name a classical song, many would say Ave Maria. Yet few would know it was written by Franz Schubert (1797–1828), the Austrian composer who bridged the Classical and Romantic eras and composed more than 600 songs. Among his greatest works is Winterreise (Winter Journey, 1827), a cycle of Wilhelm Müller’s poems tracing a rejected lover’s bleak wanderings through a wintry landscape. The cycle’s conclusion, Der Leiermann (The Hurdy-Gurdy Man), is one of the most haunting in all the repertoire. It portrays an old, barefoot street musician, shunned and ignored, endlessly turning his hurdy-gurdy in the cold. Schubert echoes the instrument’s drone with stark, repetitive accompaniment, creating an eerie, hypnotic sound. At the end, the weary wanderer wonders if he should join the old man – a chilling finale that binds two outcast figures in shared despair. Performed here by Gerald Moore Gerald who was widely regarded as one of the greatest accompanists. Here he accompanies Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in this recording from 1985.
Richard Addinsell
The Admirable Crichton: Waltz Sequence
Richard Addinsell is famously remembered for his Warsaw Concerto, written for the 1941 film Dangerous Moonlight. Aside from this massive hit, which sold millions of copies and quickly gained a life of its own in the concert hall, he enjoyed a highly successful career as a film music composer, contributing distinctive scores across the 1940s and 1950s. The Admirable Crichton is a classic 1957 British film directed by Lewis Gilbert and based on J. M. Barrie’s stage play. The story follows William Crichton, a highly capable and intelligent butler employed in the household of the Earl of Loam. When the Earl, his family, and several servants are stranded on a deserted island following a shipwreck, it is Crichton’s practical skills and leadership that prove indispensable. This sudden reversal of fortune upends the traditional British class hierarchy, lending the story both comedic tension and underlying social commentary. Production notes reveal that Addinsell composed only the dance music sequences for the film, including the elegant waltz used in a central scene, before departing the project. The remainder of the score was completed by Douglas Gamley.
Anatoly Lyadov
Kikimora
In today’s world of streaming and AI, I sometimes feel we’ve lost a little of the joy of musical discovery – and even the ability to really focus on listening (I say this without blame; I’m as much at fault as anyone). To prove I haven’t been swallowed entirely by algorithm‑generated snippets, let me share something of this discovery. With work slowing down this August, I returned to one of my old student haunts, the Barbican Music Library. It’s a true treasure chest, with around 16,000 scores lining its shelves. In the past, a visit here meant hunting down CDs and staking out a listening booth; now, you can simply stream music as you browse the scores (and the Wi‑Fi is surprisingly decent). Browsing the scores, I stumbled on this work that I had not come across before. Kikimora is a mythical spirit raised in the mountains by a sorcerer. The work begins with a dark, delicate theme that suggests her crystal cradle, before gathering intensity as Kikimora spins flax from dusk till dawn – her sinister energy filling the atmosphere with tension and mystery. And if you are in the vicinity of the Barbican, I’d highly recommend the Feel the Sound exhibition which is open until this Sunday (31st August 2025).
Ole Olsen
Lajla: Overture
Influenced by Wagner and the rich traditions of Norwegian folk music, Ole Olsen (1850–1927) was a composer with a deep connection to the sounds of his homeland. His works absorbed elements of the Joik – a traditional form of song with deep spiritual and cultural roots, found among the Sami people across parts of Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia. In 1893, Olsen completed his two‑act opera Lajla, a work that draws loosely from the novel of the same name and explores the meeting of cultures in northern Scandinavia with themes of love, belonging and identity. At the heart of the opera is the story of Lajla, brought up to believe she is the daughter of a Sami leader. Set against the atmospheric landscapes of the far north, Lajla reflects Olsen’s attempt to merge national tradition with operatic drama.
Johann Georg Albrechtsberger
Concerto for Jew’s Harp and Mandora: i. Tempo moderato
Johann Georg Albrechtsberger isn’t exactly a household name today, but he was a big deal in his day. As a highly respected composer, teacher, and music theorist, he was selected to teach none other than Ludwig van Beethoven and held the position of Kapellmeister at St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna. This is one of his more adventurous works having taken an interest in two instruments you might not connect with classical music. Here in this piece we hear a concerto for Jew’s Harp and Mandora. The Jew’s Harp an instrument usually thought of as a folk curiosity, but one with an ancient and surprisingly noble history. The Mandora is a small lute-like instrument. Despite its misleading name, the Jew’s harp has no actual link to Jewish culture or religion. Its origins are uncertain, but the instrument itself is incredibly old, with versions found across Asia and Europe, and it still holds a place in folk traditions worldwide.
Conlon Nancarrow
Study 1
Conlon Nancarrow was a wild musical genius who basically said, “Humans? Pff, too slow.” Born in 1912 in Arkansas, he craved music with wild, impossible rhythms no living pianist could touch without breaking their fingers. Fed up with regular musicians losing track, he teamed up with the player piano: a machine that played punched paper rolls stuffed with his mind-boggling, tempo-busting tunes. People mostly ignored him until the 1980s, when the world realised he was Dr. Frankenstein of rhythm, creating musical roller coasters that left everyone feeling either dizzy, confused, or cheering for more. So if you like music with a mixture of honky-tonk saloon, mathematical experiment fused with 100% madness, this is your musical bullseye! If it isn’t, the track is just over two minutes long. What made me smirk is the streaming platform’s need for an artist – in this case our performer is Mr Bösendorfer Grand Piano!
Johannes Brahms
Intermezzo in A major, Op. 118 No. 2
After the last track, you may find yourself needing a lie down in a quiet, darkened room, and it is into that space we step with one of classical music’s most sublime and moving moments. In 1890 at aged just 57, Johannes Brahms completed his String Quintet in G major, Op. 111 declared to friends that he was ready for retirement. Convinced he had nothing more to give, he drafted his will. Yet inspiration unexpectedly returned after his meeting with brilliant clarinettist Richard Mühlfeld, whose artistry stirred Brahms back to work. Over the next five years, Brahms created a series of superb works for clarinet, piano and finally the organ. Often referred to as Brahm’s ‘late’ music, the works are deep in reflection, mortality, and extraordinary beauty. As a musician who plays the clarinet, piano and organ, it has been my pleasure to have learned and performed all these works. Completely un-showy, they are deeply satisfying and moving works.