Arthur Bliss (1891-1975)
Piano Concerto Concerto for Two Pianos Piano Sonata
Arthur Bliss was half-American on his father's side. He
studied with Charles Wood at Cambridge, where he also came under the influence
of Edward Dent, and then at the Royal College of Music. In 1912 he met Elgar
who encouraged him. After distinguished service in World War I, in which he was
wounded, gassed and mentioned in despatches, he returned to England and gained
a reputation of some notoriety with works for ensembles (often exploiting the
voice) such as Madam Noy (1918) and Rout (1920), which were deemed to be modern
and experimental.
During the 1920s A Colour Symphony (1921-2), Introduction
and Allegro (1926), the Oboe Quintet (1927), and Pastoral (1929) established
Bliss as an important voice. His war experiences found musical expression in
the profound choral symphony Morning Heroes (1930), while the Clarinet Quintet
(1932) and Music for Strings (1935) showed his command of absolute forms. In
1934-5 he composed the music for Alexander Korda's film of H.G. Wells's Things
to Come, the first of several remarkable artistic collaborations, which also
included the choreographer Ninette de Valois with the ballet Checkmate (1937),
Robert Helpmann, the choreographer of the ballet Miracle in the Gorbals (1944),
J.B. Priestley, who wrote the libretto for the opera The Olympians (1948-9),
and Christopher Hassall and Kathleen Raine in the choral works The Beatitudes
(1961) and The Golden Cantata (1963) respectively. These works indicate the
range of Bliss's art, which also included concertos for piano (1938-9), violin
(1955) and cello (1970), vocal works and a substantial body of chamber music.
Among his other major achievements are the orchestral Meditations on a theme by
John Blow (1955) and Metamorphic Variations (1972). Bliss was knighted in 1950
and appointed Master of the Queen's Musick in 1953, a post he served diligently
with distinction.
In 1938 Bliss was an adjudicator at the Ysa˙e International
Competition for pianists; in his autobiography As I Remember he recalled that
'Hearing ... so much brilliant playing made me wish to write a work for the
instrument myself. I must have put intense concentration into the wish for
almost immediately afterwards the opportunity arose'. It came from the British
Council, which commissioned Bliss to compose his Piano Concerto to mark British
Week at the 1939 New York World's Fair. The premičre took place on 10th June
that year, with Solomon as the soloist, and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra
under Adrian Boult.
As to the character of the concerto, Bliss described it in
his own programme note: 'It was to be played by Solomon and dedicated to the people
of the U.S. so obviously it had to be a concerto in the grand manner and what
is loosely called "romantic". Surely the Americans are at heart the most
romantic in the world'. 'Grand' and 'romantic' are certainly the key words for
it is both. Here is a big-boned work, energetic, ebullient, and forthright, but
within this expansive framework there is also room for quieter, more personal
emotions portrayed in a rich vein of lyricism. The adjective 'romantic' is
equally appropriate for a work following in the tradition of concertos by
Liszt, Tchaikovksy and Busoni. Indeed the ferocious double octaves at the
opening of the work indicate Bliss's intentions and a virtuoso of a high order
is required to fulfil them.
The first movement grows from four principal ideas: first, a
dynamic theme sweeping upwards announced by the full orchestra and
incorporating a triplet rhythm; secondly, the bitter-sweet fall of a minor
ninth on the violins revealing a characteristic fingerprint of Bliss's which
recurs in all three movements; thirdly, a fanfare-like theme which injects a
hint of unease into the otherwise urbane mood; fourthly, a theme of calm beauty
in marked contrast to the first three. The first three of the themes dominate
the development culminating in a climax where, against an exultant violin
counter-melody and the piano's syncopated decoration, the opening theme is
heard in the bass of the orchestra. After a cadenza the recapitulation allows
the contrasting theme to come into its own. A phrase of utter simplicity opens
the Adagietto, the peaceful meditative outer sections of which frame a more
animated core. Once more the minor ninth interval is in evidence and the
movement closes magically with the piano's final astringent, questioning chord,
answered by the strings' affirmative answer. A delight in rhythm is apparent in
the finale. First, a pizzicato theme for cellos and basses hints expectantly at
future possibilities, but is forgotten as the moto-perpetuo-like rondo theme
sweeps in. From here on, apart from one brief respite, the pace is relentless
and high spirited with cross-rhythms abounding. The episodes are varied in
character: one is purposeful and direct, while another has a jazzy, syncopated
theme. Time and again, though, the rondo theme is in the background, ever ready
to steal the limelight, as when the entire orchestra takes it up fortissimo. As
the movement reaches its climax, the pizzicato theme from the start of the
movement is revealed as a richly harmonized melody which surges to a majestic close.
Apart from Solomon, another early exponent of the Piano
Concerto was the Australian pianist Noel Mewton-Wood. His performances of the
concerto led Bliss, in 1952, to compose his Piano Sonata for him and he gave
the premičre in a BBC broadcast the following year. It has a similar overall
romantic and heroic mood to the concerto. The first movement has a relentless,
driving force and grows from a rhythmic figure in triple time marked by a
characteristic upbeat. Contrast arrives with a singing melody decorated by
grace notes. Two climaxes are shaped from these ideas but the movement ends
with a mysterious coda. A set of variations on the calm sequence of richly
harmonized chords forms the basis of the Adagio, while the finale opens with a
passionate dramatic statement, which is immediately recast in a lyrical vein. A
second idea appears in dotted rhythm which gradually assumes the character of a
swirling dance, to lead to the calm centre of the movement with the initial
idea played in an almost improvisatory manner. The tempo takes off again and
the sonata ends in bravura display.
The Concerto for Two Pianos has its origins in one of the
experimental works exploiting the voice that Bliss wrote in the years
immediately after the first World War, the Concerto for piano, tenor and
strings of 1921, which is now lost. Realising that this unusual combination
would be a hindrance to further performances, yet being fond of the work, Bliss
decided to recast it as a concerto for two pianos accompanied by an orchestra
of wind, brass and percussion. In this form it received its premičre in Boston
in 1924. Bliss was still not satisfied, however, and reorchestrated it for full
orchestra, and as such it was first heard at the Proms in 1929. A final
revision in 1950 resulted in the work heard here, although there was to be yet
one more metamorphosis, for Bliss sanctioned a version for three hands in 1968
for the pianists Phyllis Sellick and Cyril Smith.
Although the concerto is cast in one continuous movement, it
is clearly divided into three distinct parts, in which the principal musical
ideas are all derived from a short two-bar theme heard in octaves in the second
bar of the work. In his programme note for the 1924 version, Bliss likened the
development of this theme to 'an Oriental print' which 'is often developed from
one small and seemingly inconspicuous pattern'. In the original piano and tenor
concerto, Bliss had suggested that there was a third soloist, a xylophone, and
the part remained prominent in the later versions, particularly in the last
movement. If the bubbling brilliant splash of sound at the opening brings
Stravinsky's Petrushka to mind, it reflects not only that composer's influence
on Bliss's early works, but also the latter's lifelong preoccupation with
rhythm and colour. A jig-like theme on first violins, then the first piano
provides jaunty contrast, while a pensive passage for brass and wind leads to
the slow section. Here the mood is meditative with emphasis on the decorative
writing for the pianos, reflecting Bliss's description of the pianos in his
1924 programme note as 'two great arabesque-making machines'. In the finale the
carefree, initial mood of the concerto returns. Towards the end the music
refers to the slow movement and then, as the music comes helter-skelter full
circle, to the opening of the concerto itself.
Andrew Burn