Dr Jonathan Clinch

I recently tried an experiment. I downloaded a metronome app that allowed me to use presets and programmed it for the various tempos in Herbert Howells’ 1940 ‘Paean’ for organ. I then practised a lot, recorded a performance, and posted it online. This blog is a reflection on what I did and some of the comments shared on social media.

I’ve always wondered why all the Paean performances I’ve ever heard have been below the marked tempo. The initial marking of crochet = 144 is particularly notable, so much so that Stephen Cleobury challenged the composer on it and was surprised when Howells asked him to stick to the notated speeds. This was confirmed by Tom Winpenny and also comes up in an interview with Cleobury in The Diapason: ‘I once asked [Howells] if he really expected us to play it that fast and he said he did’ (interview with Lorraine Brugh, June 5th 2018).

Overall there are eight metronome markings.

Allegro sempre brioso, crochet = 144
meno mosso, crochet = 112 (77%)
poco a poco più animato, crochet = 126 (88%)
più moderato, deciso, crochet = 96 (66%)
più animato, crochet = 112 (77%)
a tempo, crochet = 132 (92%)
Vivo assai, crochet = 144 (100%)
Largamente, crochet = 96 (66%)

Clearly how we interpret the opening marking will determine the whole character of the piece. Allegro sempre brioso: Cheerful or brisk (but commonly interpreted as lively, fast), always with spirit or vigour. If we’re going to reduce that initial tempo, for whatever reason, the other sections need to be reduced within the same ratio. Again, the majority of performances that I’ve heard don’t do this. Paean is often described as a toccata, but I think it’s important to recognise that genre-wise it’s perhaps closer to a scherzo. And remember, Howells’ Toccatina (1921) for the piano is very light indeed, as is Dalby’s Toccata (1959).

Paean was written as a standalone piece and intended as a private gift to Herbert Sumsion in May 1940. I’ve detailed in my blog on the Saraband how it was Sumsion who dragged Howells out of Twigworth Church after days of refusing to leave following the burial of his son Michael in 1935. It was only after Sumsion persuaded Howells to release the score of Hymnus Paradisi for the 1950 Three Choirs Festival in Gloucester, that he also managed to get Howells to agree to the publication of the Paean, which was then incorporated into the Six Pieces of 1953. Paean was written at a time when Howells was suffering from considerable depression as a prolonged period of mourning was intensified by the outbreak of the Second World War. The safety of his remaining family was a constant topic in letters of this period. A doctor friend of mine, James Betteridge-Sorby, also pointed out that Howells’ Graves disease might have had an ongoing musical impact (symptoms include nervousness, irritability and trouble sleeping).

I would therefore characterise Paean as a piece which focuses on that anxiety, the tension of a man who was depressed and frightened. At 144 bpm it’s breathless, impulsive, anxious – and not always pleasant. The prolonged pedal point at the start – a swirling mass based on a combination of minor 9th sonorities and pentatonic figurations – ultimately leads to the characteristic fanfare motif, an outburst that interrupts the piece with its sudden rest, offbeat marcato accents, jarring ff dynamic and unexpected dissonance. The reduction in dynamic that follows introduces a highly fragmentary section, where the smooth long lines of the opening seem a world away. It’s worth pondering whether the climax points in the remaining pages provide any sort of resolution, or simply more violence. Certainly, the ‘Solo Reeds’ fanfare of the final page is often played in a highly triumphant manner, but in a faster and stricter performance, that gesture becomes an unwelcome interruption – the bright D major of the held resolution before it is shattered by the very sudden introduction of the dissonant fragmented fanfare – fff.

That fanfare:

This tonal doubt reinforces a sense of the bittersweet. How do we really feel about the bright D major in the midst of War? As James Davy has pointed out, Paean gives us a very different vision to that of Howells’ Third Rhapsody, supposedly written amidst the Zeppelin raids in York during the First World War.

For those still struggling with the speed, and I would include myself within this after years of playing the piece at about 80% of the marked tempos (including live on Radio 4!), I would highlight an important comparison. If we consider aspects of the Paean – its wartime composition during a period of mourning, its ultra-fast markings, its scherzo-like mercurial quality, its modal d minor tonality, its long legato lines etc. etc. – it has a lot in common with another organ work: Maurice Duruflé’s Prélude on the name of Jehan Alain (op.7 – 1942). Howells’ love of French music (and particularly the piano works of Ravel and Debussy) is well documented, but we rarely get organists making the same connections. Certainly, the ultra-legato touch required for the Duruflé is essential for the Howells, where the first four pages+ are one long paragraph, leading to the fanfare (meno mosso). It’s also VERY fast: minim = 88 (ie. each of the dotted crochets is 176) – but we rarely get slow performances.

The Duruflé performance here is by John Scott at St Paul’s Cathedral, one of the largest acoustics in the UK. Note the clarity and how little he’s slowed down for the acoustic. This is often the excuse for slower performances in the UK and, of course, the acoustic does need to be taken into account to an extent, but it does leave me wondering why under-tempo performances of British music like Paean are so common when it seems much rarer to hear slow Duruflé, to take one French example. I suspect Howells’ frequent appearance on voluntary lists has something to do with it, where the practice time available/required for virtuoso performances is rare. There are also a larger number of amateur performances in the UK. The Paean is perceived by some as voluntary music, in the same way that the Duruflé Prélude is perceived as [predominantly] a concert work.

It’s also difficult to perform the Paean at the marked tempos if the action can’t keep up and this is the problem I come up against most. There are also issues with over-registration where the opening becomes so heavy (particularly with reeds and 16’ stops) that the player is forced to put on the brakes (note – full swell doesn’t appear until the third page and that’s only a particular effect during the ‘p’ section).

Howells liked to describe various organ pieces as ‘getting away from the church’ – an institution that he had a real love/hate relationship with, and it makes you wonder about the meaning of the title. Howells’ organ works, with the notable exception of the Psalm Preludes, are predominantly secular ones. A priest friend, Laurence Price, commented, ‘I wonder if Howells was thinking of a lesser-known meaning of the word Paean – a war chant sung to galvanise troops before an attack? You see it in classical authors like Xenophon.’ This is particularly interesting given Howells’ wartime context and extensive use of fanfares: “At length the opposing lines were not three or four stadia apart, and then the Greeks struck up the paean and began to advance against the enemy.” (Xenophon’s Anabasis 1.18.17).

Overall, I think Adam Begley hit the nail on the head when he described Howells’ metronome markings as ‘a reality check’. Anthony Gritten has highlighted the important distinction between flow and speed, and the frequent need to see metronome markings in a broader range – i.e. 72 would mean 64-80, rather than just 70-76. ‘It’s all in the affect: somebody reminded me the other day that adagio is not simply a numerical speed but a way of playing’. Personally, I’ve come to look at the Paean in a completely different light, although it took some time to get the tradition of slower performances out of my head. I feel it’s revealed ‘a way of playing’ the Paean that I hadn’t considered before – even if I slow down a bit in future. It’s predominantly about mood.

I wonder at what [reduced] speed does the piece cease to be Howells’ Paean?

Jonathan Clinch

Royal Academy of Music, April 2024

Paean on Spotify
Paean on YouTube