From the Chairman Stuart Freed
Since its inception in 1951, the Elgar Society has accomplished a great deal to further the cause of England’s
greatest composer: and now the celebrations of the 150th anniversary of the birth of Elgar can be added to the list
of its achievements. The Year of Elgar, as promoted by the Society, has been a resounding success and has done much
to enhance the reputation of Elgar by the encouragement of both musical and extra-musical events throughout the country.
I am happy to be able to report that our Branch has made a significant contribution to the success of this endeavour.
It was unfortunate that the rain affected two of our special events. The first of these was the Isle of Wight walk
organised by Kevin Allen. This splendid idea is, I hope, one that can be resurrected at some later date, for it promised
to be a most enjoyable jaunt, but one that would surely have been a miserable affair if it had taken place as planned.
To negotiate mountainous seas in the Solent followed by waterlogged paths in driving rain would surely be enough to
deter even the most hardy of Elgarians.
The other rain-spoiled episode was the Elgar Cycling Event at the Reading Velodrome. Martyn Marsh will no doubt
report more fully on this, but suffice to say that myself, together with the present Mrs Freed and Ernest Yelf,
squelched our way to Reading just in time to see the last of the participants departing the car park for home. To
add insult to injury, after tea and cakes were consumed, the weather brightened, the track dried out and the sun shone.
As Elgar might have said, “I always knew that God was against cycling.”
Due to the enormous efforts of the Vice-Chairman, the Society’s Travelling Exhibition has been used extensively and
to great effect by the Branch. Martyn has been tireless in ferrying the Exhibition around, ensuring that it appeared for
an extended period both here in Havant and in Portsmouth’s Central Library, at the Winchester Elgar Concert and at
Southampton’s Guildhall for a celebratory performance of The Dream of Gerontius.
The weather also took its toll upon the Branch programme. Whilst our initial meeting of the year went ahead as
planned with a presentation from Paul Rooke about Rutland Boughton, by the time February’s meeting was due, snow in
Shropshire prevented our speaker, Richard Westwood-Brookes, from travelling and a hasty replacement was substituted.
Indeed, many of you will remember my dustbin liner full of compact discs.
After my own presentation in March, we learned that the scheduled speaker for April, Richard Smith, would be unable
to speak to the Branch. This gave us the opportunity to invite Richard Westwood-Brookes to deliver the talk that had
been cancelled in February. Happily, as you will have seen from our new programme, Richard Smith will give his
presentation later this year.
With special events taking up much of May, our next Branch meeting took place in September with speaker Brian
Johnston relating his experience playing under the baton of Constantin Silvestri. This was followed in October by
Andrew Keener’s exploration of the career of Jacqueline du Pré, and in December by our own Carl Newton who spoke
about Elgar in Sussex.
One other special event under the banner of Southern Branch was the lecture-recital organised by Martyn and given
at Southampton University by David Owen Norris. Whilst the content of the Recital was shrouded in mystery right up
until the day, those of us who attended were rewarded with a rare musical treat. As it emerged, David took as his
subject Elgar and the Piano and, of course, his enthusiastic narration and expert musicianship ensured that we enjoyed
a highly entertaining couple of hours. This event coincided with the unveiling of a commemorative plaque at the former
guest-house at Ventnor on the Isle of Wight where the Elgars spent part of their honeymoon. This was attended by
Andrew Neill, the Chairman of the Society and by at least one of our members who lives on the island whom I contacted
about the event.
In addition to the special events organised by the Branch, I was able, through the wonders of electronic mail, to
contact churches throughout the south of England and ask that they used some of Elgar’s music in their Services on
Sunday 3rd June. This proposal was met with great enthusiasm by both Anglican and Catholic churches and indeed by
the Cathedral organists.
Personally I was invited to speak about Elgar by the Gramophone Societies of both New Milton and Bournemouth, to
present my Composers’ Choice talk to the Thames Valley Branch of the Society and to give a short pre-concert talk
from the platform at the afore-mentioned Gerontius performance at Southampton.
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A Night Out in London
Since Basingstoke got its own concert hall at The Anvil, we rarely go to London for concerts, preferring to be back
for cocoa and slippers by 10.30! So our outing to the RFH was a rare treat, especially as neither my husband nor I
had seen the Hall since its refurbishment, and this report will include our impressions of the evening, rather than
an analysis of the music. I leave that to the experts, and those of you who heard the concert when it was broadcast
on Radio Three the following Tuesday. Unfortunately we missed a pre-concert interview between Andrew Neill and Mark
Elder as it had not been publicised anywhere. I only found out about it from fellow diners at the Italian restaurant,
which is situated where the old RFH cafeteria used to be. These ladies were obviously fellow members and were rushing
their meal to get to the talk.
Regarding the South Bank refurbishment, we were both very impressed by the improved lighting, increased number of
‘eateries’ and general busy atmosphere of the whole area, in contrast to the previous rather dreary surroundings.
Although it was a cold, blustery November night, the riverside area was bustling and cheerful; at last London is
catching up with its continental rivals in using the river as a focal point. Inside, the Hall has been smartened up,
though it is best to enter at first floor level, as the old ground floor entrance is rather gloomy and badly lit.
However, as in many stately homes, the further up you go, the more obvious it becomes that little has changed, and
the upper galleries are definitely ‘servant quarters.’ Whoever made the carpet should be complimented as either it
hasn’t changed in 50 years, or they decided to stick with 50s style geometric design. To my husband’s relief, once
inside the auditorium the seats are obviously new, and comfortable . . . he swears that the old ones hadn’t been
changed in 50 years!
When booking for this concert on-line, I was convinced that it was a sell-out, so was surprised to see quite a few
empty seats around us, and we couldn’t see how full the posher area was. However, most of the boxes were taken, with
one glaring exception, the Royal Box, despite the Programme stating that the Duke of Kent would be there. He is Patron
of the orchestra and his sister is Patron of the Choir. Having got used to seeing the usual Basingstoke (and Odiham)
worthies at the Anvil concerts, it was most refreshing to see quite a large number of young people around us, and
obviously there was a more cosmopolitan mixture, all of whom seemed to be Elgar fans.
Now to the concert itself. I can only say that I thoroughly enjoyed the works chosen, a refreshing change from the
repetitious programmes this year which have too often consisted of one of the symphonies and the Cello Concerto, much
though I love the latter piece. The Civic Fanfare, written for the Three Choirs Festival of 1927, gave us a rousing
introduction, as we scrambled to our feet for the Anthem, which was sung by Emily Magee. This lady is American, and
at times in The Spirit of England I found her pronunciation a bit mangled; luckily I had the words to follow. As usual,
openings to Elgar’s choral works stay in your mind for the rest of the evening, and this was no exception, and the
Choir was impressive. The choice of this work so close to Remembrance Sunday did not go unnoticed, the changes of mood
so matching the words of Laurence Binyon, and probably an eye-opener to many of the younger members of the audience.
I thought that the three orchestral works were performed excellently, but my husband was not so impressed, which
coming from a musical ‘learner’ was interesting. I think that we both missed the intimacy of the Anvil setting, and
apparently conductors have found Basingstoke’s acoustics superior to those of London concert halls. (Glad that we can
get something right). The Enigma Variations deservedly received an enthusiastic ovation, and I suspect that it was
that piece that had tempted in many of the audience that evening. The concert was certainly a fitting end to this
anniversary year, both for Elgarians, and for the LPO, which is celebrating its 75th Season.
Mary Turvill
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Elgar, the Wilderness Years
‘Elgar, the Wilderness Years,’ was the title of a talk given to the Branch on 14th April, 2007, by Richard
Westwood-Brookes. The following comments by John Dixey were published in the previous Newsletter, and are repeated
here, with responses from Richard Westwood-Brookes and Carl Newton.
Whatever conclusion we may have come to regarding the burden of Richard Westwood-Brookes’s argument regarding the
decline in Elgar’s output, I feel sure that the one reaction which would distress him most would be one of supine
acquiescence! He would feel just as aggrieved as would Norman Lebrecht were one to agree with him!
We all knew that although born blessed (or cursed?) with the gift of melody, Elgar soon realised that he had no way
of earning a financial reward which would be in any way commensurate with the enormous work involved in so scoring and
developing such melodies as to give them life in the complex and large scale works which his ambition demanded. What
Richard was able to point out was the dichotomy consequent upon Elgar’s marriage with Alice, which on the one had made
an adequate income necessary whilst at the same time providing a companion who, having subsumed her own ambitions into
furthering his, maintained an unceasing pressure upon him to deliver the goods.
The resulting tensions within Elgar resulted in strong feelings of guilt which led both to his frequent exaggerated
outbursts regarding music being ‘Off!’ as well as to his frequent psychosomatic illnesses.
It was thus only after Alice’s death that Elgar on his own was able to live quite comfortably on the money he could
earn through conducting, and, increasingly via the recording studio, which came to his rescue in the nick of time both
financially and as a source of intellectual stimulus, and a decline in his compositional output was the inevitable
result.
Whilst we are in Richard’s debt for the clarity with which he examined these matters in his stimulating talk, I
personally think it a pity he felt it necessary to over-egg his pudding and protest quite so much regarding certain
aspects of Elgar’s life – in particular his relationship with his ‘friends pictured within.’ To me, his sardonic
accounts of Elgar’s relationship with Jaeger and Dora Penny, and generally with Alice and her social circle, differ
so markedly from the often heart-warming accounts of all the other researchers and commentators on Elgar’s life and
art (including the invaluable books by the Editor of this Newsletter!) that one is drawn to the inevitable conclusion
that either he is wrong - or everyone else is! I think it is a pity he went so far, as the results inevitably are a
devaluation of the lecture as a whole. I wonder what other members think?
John Dixey
John Dixey’s comments on my ‘sardonic accounts of relationships with Jaeger and Dorabella’ surprised me as neither
of these people featured in the lecture! However as John has raised the point I would say this: we must never believe
unchallenged biographical ‘facts.’ The lack of objective, first-hand information about Elgar is remarkable and has
created a vacuum sadly filled by propaganda from Alice, Reed and Dorabella, further embellished by gospels of Young
and Russell. Rosa Burley’s observation [sic] is now unavailable, while most other contemporary witnesses remained
silent. Boult however once wrote to me leaving me in no doubt he didn’t much care for the man. According to gospel,
Jaeger is ‘Elgar’s greatest and truest friend.’ If so, then why didn’t Elgar attend his wedding – offering, limply:
he ‘couldn’t get away’? Jaeger’s letters to Sidney Loeb I provided for Kevin Allen’s biography suggest Elgar abandoned
him after he lost his job with Novello’s and therefore his usefulness.
When the ‘Enigmatic’ Rodewald died, Elgar, distraught, rushed up to Liverpool and wandered about declaring
‘everything is night to me.’ When Jaeger died, Elgar’s letter to his widow amounts to a few formal lines. He did
not attend the funeral. Jaeger’s widow ended her days as a forgotten old lady, cleaning houses in North London,
unsupported by her husband’s ‘greatest and truest friend.’ Burley described the Jewish Jaeger as ‘rather a commonplace
little German’ – a view doubtless held by the Elgars’ upper middle class society of which the Variations characters
were very much a part.
As to Dorabella, don’t listen to me, listen to Moore: “ . . . . like the others she tended to emphasize her own
place in Elgar’s life . . . in 1914 she married Richard Powell . . . who abetted her theory that the hidden ‘theme’ . . .
was Auld Lang Syne – a notion understandably flattering to the Variations originals.” Or listen to my old friend Alan
Webb, son of Elgar’s friend Frank Webb who, during a conversation about Alice retorted: ‘Thank goodness he never
married that dreadful Dorabella woman . . .’
As to the rest of the ‘Variations,’ apart from a lively correspondence with Troyte – significantly the only working
tradesman – hardly a letter seems to exist – scant evidence of close friendship. I hope to expand more about the
Variations this year but in the meantime consider this: with only a few notable exceptions the characters form a web
of social relationships which was from a class far above Elgar’s. In an age when such barriers were clearly defined,
is it possible that any of them could really at the time call Elgar a friend? Do you really think that Squire Baker
would consider himself the friend of a Worcester piano tuner purely because he married the trout from Hazeldine House?
Richard Westwood-Brookes
Thanks, Richard for a characteristically spirited response. We look forward to your further ideas on the
Variations! Meanwhile, in terms of the importance of challenging biased, incomplete, or incorrect information presented
as fact, which I think is the point of your article, I feel obliged to point out that 1, Elgar was abroad at the time
of Jaeger’s funeral, 2, Jaeger’s widow was a violinist of Concerto standard who expanded her teaching connection in
order to maintain income after his death, 3, Elgar insisted on making over to the retired Jaeger his own portion of
the royalties on the Oratorio Analyses, 4, Jaeger was not Jewish, 5, Elgar was not a piano-tuner, and, 6, as an
Architect, Troyte Griffith was surely in the category of ‘Professional,’ rather than ‘Trade.’
And I wonder how far the use of the word ‘trout’ to describe Alice contributes to a reasoned discourse?
Kevin Allen
The controversy over Richard Westwood-Brookes’ presentation draws attention to a more fundamental issue in
approaching Elgar any other historical figure for that matter. The correspondent in the last newsletter made a revealing
remark about the ‘heart-warming’ accounts of the composer made by most writers about him. (Most, but not all; Rosa
Burley was acerbic and currently David Cannadine has raised some doubts about received opinions while not questioning
Elgar’s greatness as a composer.) The ‘heart-warming’ is exactly the problem because it gets in the way of a judicious
assessment. Perhaps it is meant to. The pulpits have been carefully ‘tuned’ about Elgar. This was assiduously done
during his life, and sometimes by himself, but more intriguingly later biographers have approached their task with
such awe and reverence that even the most glaring evidence of his sometimes arrogant self-regarding and self-promoting
behaviour has been ignored. Westwood-Brookes rightly drew attention to some of the egregious errors which the composer
made in his business dealings, partly from sheer greed. Elgar’s money fixation was notorious among contemporaries
such as Dan Godfrey. Perhaps because it is so rare for the English to have a world class composer a conspiracy of
silence has been agreed, not only about him but about his entire circle to boot. Alice Roberts, Marie Joshua, J
Oliver Hobbes, Mary Anderson, Landon Ronald, Sidney Colvin, Billy Reed etc., etc., constitute a dreary litany of
the undistinguished who have been made to play much above their weight as a result of, in some cases, a quite casual
relationship with Elgar.
Westwood-Brookes does over-egg his pudding and sometimes spoils a good case by a ridiculously ‘over-the-top’
throwaway remark. When he sticks to the evidence and eschews mere opinion he has much of importance to say and some
things that must be said if we are to give Elgar his proper balanced place in world history rather than as some kind
of English icon to be worshipped in a pantheon of tribal gods.
Carl Newton
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