This year’s Three Choirs Festival at Worcester Cathedral featured several major works which have been part of my recent research. A recital of Howells’ piano music that I’ve edited recently was given by Matthew Schellhorn, and the final concert included my completion of Howells’ Cello Concerto, performed superbly by Guy Johnston, Samuel Hudson and the Philharmonia Orchestra.
My new edition of 28 previously unpublished piano works by Herbert Howells was released yesterday and can now be ordered from MusicRoom or any local music shop. It’s also available digitally through nKoda. My preface is reproduced below.
Herbert Howells Piano Works
The name of Herbert Howells has become synonymous with the finest choral music within the English tradition and he still influences composers today, but in recent years a growing number of recordings of orchestral, chamber and instrumental music have demonstrated just how much he achieved outside of the church. This volume provides an opportunity for precisely this sort of reassessment, whilst at the same time giving a characteristic overview of his compositional style as it evolved over sixty-five years. The pieces contained herein are all being published for the first time and bring together manuscripts found in the special collections at the Royal College of Music and five private collections. Ultimately, the music in this volume demonstrates that Howells’s celebrated compositional style, which is instantly recognisable, transfers well to the piano.
The earliest works are attractive character pieces in a Romantic idiom which show just how different Howells’s writing was before he began to study with Charles Stanford (from 1912). The Phantasy and Harlequin Dreaming demonstrate not only an emerging French influence, but also what a remarkable compositional technique the young Howells had during a period when he was considered the leading British composer of the younger generation. Whilst these French influences remained in Howells’s work, other interests, particularly that of Tudor music, were also absorbed into his personal style and the three dances and chanson show how much he continued to develop and refine his writing. In the final Petrus Suite, he distills and simplifies the idiom significantly, writing beautiful miniatures that are instantly recognisable as coming from the mature Howells’s pen. Most of the pieces were written as gifts and so at the time there was no intention of publication. They are formally and stylistically original and distinctively Howellsian. There is a large range of difficulty too, from the first piano grades (such as the Minuet for Ursula) through to professional diploma standard (such as the Phantasy).
Howells’s earliest musical education came from his sister at an old upright piano within the family home at Lydney, Gloucestershire. Although the family had very little money, his headmaster encouraged him and a local squire funded more serious musical tuition with Herbert Brewer at Gloucester Cathedral, becoming an official apprentice at the same time as Ivor Gurney and Ivor Novello. Crucially, the link with Gloucester also drew Howells into the world of the Three Choirs Festivals, where he experienced not only the riches of the oratorio tradition but also some of the latest contemporary music. When he won an open scholarship to study at the Royal College of Music in 1912, he changed overnight. The ‘queer looking scrubby little creature’ (that Sir Hubert Parry describes in his diary) transformed himself into a charming, dapper gentleman. Likewise with the move to London, Howells jettisoned so much of his early musical style in favour of a far more refined writing where every note mattered. The move to such a cosmopolitan city allowed Howells to soak up all of the latest music. Sir Hubert Parry mentored him and he was frequently invited to salon recitals in the homes of the rich and famous in Kensington and beyond. The Royal College of Music itself hosted many of the earliest London performances of new music and it was the French school of Debussy and Ravel which had the greatest impact on Howells. Likewise, the wartime performances of Sergei Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes were unmissable for the young composer. He joined the teaching staff of the Royal College of Music in 1920, remaining there throughout his career until ill health forced him to reduce his musical activities in the late 1970’s. He died in 1983 and was buried in Westminster Abbey.
As with many composers, the piano was the instrument at which Howells liked to experiment and although he never composed directly at the instrument (Stanford had taught him that this encouraged poor technique), it was, nevertheless, an important tool for him. It also played an important role in his creative imagination. He claimed that he could never write without a person or a place in mind, and his most personal gifts were very often piano pieces. All of the pieces in this volume fit into this category.
Howells’s lessons with Herbert Brewer consisted of piano and organ performance, composition, and harmony and counterpoint. Five piano pieces survive from this period. The Arab’s Song is the earliest extant piece of Howells, written on his sixteenth birthday and preserved in a single manuscript (RCM MS 4702). The other four pieces are contained in a single manuscript notebook, along with solo songs and theory exercises. The notebook mixes songs and romantic piano miniatures with poetic titles (and in one case an extract from Wordsworth): Legend [for piano] – ‘From a Northern Land no.ii’, February 1909; Incomplete piano piece ‘Gnomes’, February 1909; ‘By the Sea – Wordsworth’ incomplete piano piece, January 1908; Songs ‘A Visit from the Sea’ and ‘Windy Nights’ (Robert Lewis Stevenson), December 1908; ‘To a Wild Flower’ for piano, December 14th 1908; ‘Charm me asleep’ (Robert Herrick), December 15th 1908; Melody [for piano] (‘no i of Two Little Melodies’), January 8th 1909; Romance [for piano], December 31st 1908.
The 1910 Three Choirs Festival had a strong impact on the young Howells, particularly the premiere of Ralph Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis. It was then that he committed to following a professional career as a composer. His lessons with Herbert Brewer had provided a strong training in both performance and composition. His friendship with Ivor Gurney was also hugely influential. Gurney departed for the Royal College of Music that year, but continued to return home to Gloucestershire regularly, and the pair frequently walked in the surrounding countryside for days at a time. The Summer Idyls (RCM MS 4687 & 4691 – nb. early spelling of Idyls) were written between April and May 1911, and they formed part of a portfolio which he submitted to the Royal College of Music for his open scholarship. In spirit, they seem to capture the pastoral wanderings of Gurney and Howells. In style, they allude to a range of contemporary influences. The general theme is of the Romantic character piece or miniature, and there are moments of Schumann or Grieg, but the changing musical landscape is also represented too, from the jaunty Elgarian tunefulness of Meadow-Rest (‘Not too slowly, but very quietly’), Summer-Song (‘Very lively and gay’), and In the Morning (‘Cheerily’), to the Debussy-like sonorities of June-Haze (‘Very peacefully and persistent’ – where the hands initially interlock) Quiet Woods (‘Tranquil, and not too slowly’), and Near Midnight (‘Slowly but not in strict time’). Elsewhere, and particularly in Down the Hills, Howells marks his deep love of Rachmaninoff’s piano writing.
French music continued to be a strong influence on Howells throughout his time as a student (1912-17). InPhantasy (1917 – RCM MS 4714) we hear possibly the most successful Ravel-pastiche by an English composer, with Jeux d’eau echoing throughout Howells’s playful scherzo. Nevertheless, the level of compositional craft marked Howells’s own original voice out, with several commentators pointing to him as ‘the hope’ for the next generation of British music. At the heart of Harlequin Dreaming (1918 – RCM MS 4705a) is a fantastical waltz which develops through hypnotic repetition, only to vanish to nothing at the end. It is most likely that the puckish character that the composer had in mind was his close friend, Arthur Bliss. The Minuet for Ursula (RCM 7246) was written for Howells’s own daughter during the short period in which he attempted to teach her the piano. The manuscript is marked ‘Father HH, Saturday 19th Jan 1935’.
The photographer Herbert Lambert had a sideline in making clavichords, and in the summer of 1926 he lent one such instrument to Herbert Howells who was fascinated by the exoticness of this relatively unknown instrument, with its limited range and light expressive touch. It connected him to what he saw as the golden age of English music (with composers such as Tallis and Byrd). It sparked in him a lifelong enthralment with the dance forms, polyphony and modal harmony of the period, and this led to collections such as Lambert’s Clavichord (1927) and Howells’ Clavichord (1961), as well as many other miscellaneous pieces. Although inspired initially by the clavichord, the composer always chose to play the works on the piano. All of the remaining piano works here fall into the category of this ‘clavichord style’, fusing Renaissance elements with a throughly twentieth-century approach to dissonance and expression at the piano. My Lord Harewood’s Galliard (1949 – RCM MS 4690 b) was a wedding present for the Earl of Harewood and his first wife, Marion Stein (later Mrs Jeremy Thorpe) who had been a pupil of Howells. It was originally proceeded by a pavane which is now lost. Gerald Finzi and Herbert Howells had a very complex and, at times, close relationship.
On hearing of Finzi’s death, Howells wrote a piece in his clavichord style called Finzi’s rest: for Gerald on the morrow of 27th September 1956 which was later published as part of Howells’ Clavichord. However, this was not the only piece penned that day. The published tribute uses light counterpoint, gentle diatonic dissonance and a rising processional rhythmic pattern in the bass to emulate Finzi’s own style. The second piece that Howells wrote that day, Finzi: his rest (RCM MS 4690 a), was much darker and far more emotionally troubled. It presents in music a completely different picture of the Howells/Finzi relationship and for those who understand something of the biography, it is a truly astonishing memorial.
The Siciliana, “Comme le cerf soupire…”, Pavane and Galliard, and Petrus Suite were all written for pianists at the Royal College of Music. The rich and lilting Siciliana (1958) with its characteristic dotted rhythm, was completed in an afternoon and gently builds to an impassioned climax, after which the tension is gently dispersed. By contrast, the Pavane and Galliard (written for Margaret Bruce)is a much darker response to the renaissance idiom; written in 1964 at a point when he was also working of his Stabat Mater, it is characterised by the torturous harmonic language of the Pavane (intensified by the dance form) and nervous anxiety of the Galliard. “Comme le cerf soupire…” was also written for Margaret Bruce and sets a French chanson which was given to Howells by the critic Edwin Evans in the early 1920’s. It was a melody that Howells immediately committed to memory and he liked to improvise upon it at the piano throughout his life, including on one occasion when Maurice Ravel visited London. The Petrus Suite was written between 1967 and 1973 for Hilary Macnamara, the title referring to her son, Peter. The suite underwent a number of revisions and although I have managed to reconstruct seven movements from two sources, it was performed in a number of different orders. An envelope (postmarked 12th March 1973) amongst one source lists the movements as: ‘1. Vagrant Flute 2. Finnickle’s Scherzo 3. Minuet – Sine Nomine 4. Bassoonic’s Dance 5. Pro Tem’s Toccata’. A performance at Barnes Music Club on 1st May 1973 lists ‘1. Bassoonic’s dance, 2. Gavotte, 3. Finnicle’s scherzo, 4. Minuet ‘sine nomine’, 5. Toccata alias Petrus’. A programme from Harrow School Musical Society for Sunday 29th April (1973) lists: ‘Bassoonic’s Dance, Gavotte sine Nomine, Finnicle’s Scherzo, Odd’s Minuet, Toccata’. In common with other works in his late style, the suite shows a further paring back of his writing, to the absolute essentials of Howells’s counterpoint. Material from the playful Toccatina was also used by Howells in his Sonatina for piano (1971), but the piece originates from a sketch he made on Easter Sunday 1921.
In producing this edition I have tried to stay as close to Howells’s original notation as possible. As you might expect with manuscripts covering such a wider period of time, his penmanship varies considerably. The music between 1908 and 1930 is written out in ink, often at considerable speed. Usually these were for lessons and there are few signs that he revisited them (or even considered them for performance). Some scores (like the Phantasy that was given to his friend Sydney Shimmin) were simply given away and never played. Others (like Harlequin Dreaming) never made it out of the tiny notebooks that he used to compose whilst traveling. With all of these he was often pushed for space on the page so musical markings would either be crammed into very small spaces (making them very hard to read) or placed above or below the staves in positions that make their meaning unclear. After 1930 Howells adopted a new writing style both in his written and musical handwriting which makes the manuscripts considerably easier to read, nevertheless, these are all still pieces that did not go through his meticulous proof-reading and were frequently written in a single sitting, so mistakes have crept in. Generally, missing accidentals have either been confirmed in other sources or earlier in the same pieces. It should be noted that Howells never liked to write out the same passage twice (and this goes back to his lessons with Stanford and the importance of the constant variation of themes), so many aspects of articulation and phrasing vary when he repeats material. Some early editors have tried to correct this as a mistake, however, it is an essential aspect of the performance of this music. Howells himself often experimented with new ideas when playing his own pieces and liked working with performers who challenged his markings. He also added things to manuscripts after performances in a manner that in places might be considered by some to be contradictory; this is particularly evident in some of his pedalling, which suggests phrasing and the grouping of gestures, where a literal reading would resulting in a total lack of clarity. In some pieces, the level of articulation marked is extraordinary, however, this should be considered in context. Howells viewed the score as a starting point for the musician and (very much like Vaughan Williams) expected performers to make the pieces their own, hence the level of markings should not be interpreted as prescriptive in the manner of Elgar or Britten. Performers will find a range of accents used to achieve a variety of tone and rhythmic energy in a manner that mirrors his string writing. Frequently staccato dots indicate a particular lightness of touch and, in the faster passages, phrase endings can often be shortened throughout for dramatic effect. His metronome markings were never made with reference to an actual metronome and frequently it was the style and, perhaps more importantly, the mood and atmosphere that he wished to create that should govern the tempo, hence the elegance and poise of the Renaissance dance forms are crucial to the whole aesthetic. Those who did hear him play commented on the delicacy of his touch; he had small hands and often spread chords to great emotional effect. A lyrical and sympathetic rubato is crucial, without undermining the rhythmic drive and passion that is so often just under the surface. Overall, this is music of real intensity and so much of the music belongs to the way it is delivered.
I would like to express my grateful thanks to all those who responded so charitably to my requests to look at manuscripts and discuss the performance of these works, and in particular to a number of individuals and institutions who have helped significantly in the creation of this volume: to the Royal College of Music, Richard Wistreich (Director of Research), Vanessa Latarche (Head of Keyboard) and librarians Peter Linnitt, Michael Mullen and Peter Horton; to the Herbert Howells Society, their late president Sir Stephen Cleobury and their secretary Andrew Millinger; to the Herbert Howells Trust and their secretary Caroline Marks; and to the pianists Margaret Bruce, Hilary Macnamara and Graham J Lloyd. These editions were principally created for the pianist Matthew Schellhorn for his recordings on Naxos Records, supported by the British Music Society and the Herbert Howells Trust. The hours spent discussing manuscripts, notation and aspects of performance have been highly fruitful and I am especially grateful to Matthew for his forensic interest and dedication to this project.
Merton College Choir have just finished recording their latest CD for Delphian Records, which includes Jonathan Clinch’s arrangement of Herbert Howells’ anthem ‘O pray for the peace of Jerusalem’ (OUP). Originally for choir and organ, Jonathan’s new score adds full string orchestra to match the forces of Howells’ anthem The House of the Mind (also recorded on this disc). The sonorities are modelled on two important string pieces, Howells’ own 1917 Elegy (scored for solo viola, string quartet, and string orchestra) and Vaughan Williams’ ‘Tallis’ Fantasia (one of Howells’ favourite pieces of music).
This morning I was made aware of an American article, written by Dr Guy Whatley, which reproduced some of my early research on Herbert Howells and the organ, without proper citations.
I am therefore making the original article available free of charge and I am grateful to the British Institute of Organ Studies (BIOS) and their journal editor, Dr Katie Pardee, for allowing me to do so.
Herbert Howells’s Organ Works? Critical reception, performance practice and the case for reappraisal, JBIOS, vol. 37 (2013)