Walton & Barber

Walton’s musical output, though relatively modest in quantity, includes substantial masterpieces, among them unquestionably the Violin Concerto. His family introduced him to singing (his father was a choirmaster). While a chorister at Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford, he began to compose. At the age of 16 he became an Oxford undergraduate but left after 2 years still lacking part of his degree. He had formed a friendship with the brothers Sitwell (Osbert and Sacheverell), who took him under their wing. Sitwell texts, including those by their sister Edith, were subsequently used in some of his best-known compositions, for example in Belshazzar’s Feast (Osbert) and Façade (Edith).

In the spring of 1938, Walton received an invitation from the British Council to compose a violin concerto for the New York World Fair. He accepted, stipulating that Heifetz, who had already commissioned a violin concerto from him, should give the first performance. Happily, a simultaneous, lucrative offer to compose a film score was resisted by Walton. On May 11, 1938 he wrote to Hubert Foss from Ravello, Italy: “It [the concerto] seems to be developing in an extremely intimate way, not much show and bravura.” But shortly afterwards fate took a hand in shaping the character of the work. He wrote again to Foss: “Having been bitten by a tarantula, a rare & dangerous & unpleasant experience, I have celebrated the occasion by the 2nd movement being a kind of tarantella ‘Presto cappricciosamente [sic] alla napolitana.’ Quite gaga I may say, & of doubtful propriety after the 1st movement – however you will be able to judge.” The work premiered in Cleveland OH on December 7, 1939. The outbreak of war kept Walton at home, but Heifetz cabled: “Concerto enormous success. Orchestra played superbly. You would have been extremely pleased. Congratulations your most successful concerto.” Walton conducted the British premiere at the Royal Albert Hall on November 1, 1941, with Henry Holst as soloist. Heifetz recorded the work first in 1941 with Eugene Goosens (predating the composer’s 1943 revisions to the scoring), and again in 1950 with the Philharmonia under Walton’s baton.

Walton was generous in his praise of artists who played his Violin Concerto. To George Barnes, Head of BBC Third Programme, on January 31, 1947, he wrote: “Would it be possible to bring over David Oistrakh, the Russian violinist? I heard him in a quite stupendous performance of my Vl. Con. in Moscow last week … I believe he would make a tremendous sensation, nothing like him having been heard over here since Kreisler at his best.”

To Yehudi Menuhin on April 21, 1970, after recording both the Violin and Viola Concerto with him, he wrote: “Your playing is absolutely astounding, in fact I am unable to conjure up adequate superlatives for your interpretation and performance – nor can I thank you enough for having brought to life a dream which I thought would never come true.”

On the same day he wrote to Griselda Kentner: “You must get the recording your brother-in-law has made of my Viola & Violin Cons. Both performances are fantastically good – I can hardly believe it – & won’t J.H. [Heifetz] be cross.”

To Malcolm Arnold, October 4, 1972, about the recording made by Kyung-Wha Chung, conducted by André Previn: “What a girl! She has to be heard to be believed. In addition she’s very easy on the eye.”

To Walter Legge, April 18, 1978: “Talking of recordings, have you heard Jung-Wha Jung’s [Kyung-Wha Chung’s] recording of mine [my Violin Concerto]? Superb! As good as Heifetz or Francescatti.”

The first movement demonstrates Walton’s ability to change the character of his themes by rhythmical transformation. The lyrical subjects of the exposition become almost unrecognisably angular and dramatic in their treatment in the development section, providing both contrast and unity. The ending restores the tranquility of the opening bars, only to be shattered by the biting attack of the second movement’s tarantula, which enters unannounced. If Walton had a miraculous escape, the soloist will be no less fortunate to survive the poisonous, but exhilarating, virtuosity that courses through the veins of this music. The Canzonetta trio section, with its beautiful horn solo, attempts to administer a calming antidote. After a little while it takes effect on the soloist but, like an addiction, the poison returns and the orchestra and soloist dance together in step, brushing aside a doomed second attempt to bring the venom under control. The Finale commences with a dry staccato theme given out initially by the lower strings. The intensely warm, soaring second subject arrives, therefore, with maximum effect. In the development it proves contrapuntally compatible with the first subject, as does the first movement’s opening melody when introduced at the recapitulation. A ravishing accompanied cadenza completes this brilliantly creative and melodic work.

Walton wrote his first film score in 1934 and his last big project for the cinema was his music for The Battle of Britain in 1968. Of the many scores written between, the three Olivier-Shakespeare films, Henry V, Richard III and Hamlet all possess music worthy of the concert hall. Various suites of the music from Henry V have been put together but these movements from two touching moments in the film are the ones most often played.

— Adam Chambers