Landgren PHD The Voice of England'
Landgren PHD The Voice of England'
Landgren PHD The Voice of England'
Rachel Landgren
March 2017
Melbourne Conservatorium of Music
The University of Melbourne
ABSTRACT
During the 1920s and 1930s, a generation of English sopranos—including Dorothy Silk
(1883–1942), Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980) and Isobel Baillie (1895–1983)—cultivated
successful careers as exponents of early vocal music. The most significant of these English
sopranos was Dorothy Silk. From 1920 she introduced the English public to little known Bach
cantatas and unknown works by Schütz, Tunder and Purcell through recitals—including her
pioneering concert series, ‘Concerts of Old Music’ (1920–25)—broadcasts with the newly
established British Broadcasting Corporation and performances with choral festivals and
societies.
In addition to Silk’s position as a leading early vocal music specialist, she became the
soprano of choice for contemporary English composers, including Ralph Vaughan Williams
(1872–1958), Gustav Holst (1874–1934) and Herbert Howells (1892–1982). This was often in
connection with the long-standing choral festival and society tradition where she was
repeatedly held up as the ‘perfect cathedral singer’. She established herself as a favourite with
the English public, receiving unanimous praise from critics who admired her ‘pure’, ‘light’
and ‘natural’ voice, which they perceived as singularly appropriate for performances of early
and English music.
The emergence of English sopranos specialising in early and English repertoire in the
years following the First World War was only possible because of a shift in the way in which
early music was perceived and understood. Despite the prevalence of revivalist activities from
1920, little research has considered how musicians and the public engaged with early
repertoire and the extent to which the revival interacted with English musical culture. This
study, therefore, investigates the revival’s leading soprano exponents who were also
significant Tables within England’s broader musical life. By limiting the focus to a small
number of sopranos and thus vocal repertoire, this thesis is able to provide a more nuanced
understanding of the revival of early music in England during the interwar period (1920–39).
Specific attention will be given to the revivalist activities of Silk who was considered a
pioneer. As will become evident, however, discussion of Silk’s career trajectory, engagement
with early music and critical responses to her performances can also be applied to her
colleagues.
ii
historical context in which Silk’s performances took place. By centring the discussion on Silk,
and by extension her fellow early music sopranos, this thesis shows that following the First
World War the revival of early music in England increasing became an intrinsic and active
element of mainstream musical life reflecting English musical taste.
iii
THE UNIVERSITY OF MELBOURNE
PARKVILLE
i. the thesis comprises only my original work towards the degree Doctor of Philosophy
(Musicology),
ii. due acknowledgement has been made in the text to all other material used,
iii. the thesis is less than 100 000 words in length, exclusive of tables, maps,
bibliographies and appendices.
Signature: _____________________________________________
Date: _____________________
iv
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I would like to thank my supervisor Dr Suzanne Cole. This thesis would
not exist without her guidance and support. Under her mentorship I have grown as a writer
and scholar. I am incredibly grateful for the insightful and constructive criticism offered
throughout this process and the extra time taken to proofread my work. I also greatly
appreciate Sue’s encouragement and support during my extended research trips in London. In
addition to her valued advice and guidance, she ensured welcoming and generous people
surrounded me. This had a profound impact on my research process. I am deeply grateful to
Professor Jeanice Brooks for her supervision during my Endeavour Research Fellowship at
the University of Southampton in 2014 and Dr Edward Breen for his willingness to go out of
his way for a complete stranger. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank Professor
Kerry Murphy. Her unfailing generosity and enthusiasm is inspiring to all who have the
privilege of learning and working for her. In particular, I am grateful for the opportunity to
have tutored and lectured musicology subjects at the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music.
This has been a wonderful experience.
This project would not have been possible without assistance from library staff in both
Melbourne and England. The staff at the Louise-Hanson Dyer Music Library and the Baillieu
Library at the University of Melbourne went out of their way to assist with my many enquires
and were a constant support throughout this process. I would also like to thank the library and
archival staff at the British Library, Royal College of Music Library, the Holst Birthplace
Museum, V&A Art Library, the BBC Caversham Archive and the Morley College Library for
their assistance.
One of the most informative parts of my research and writing process was participating in
local and international conferences and seminars: the National and Victorian chapter
conferences of the Musicological Society of Australia (2012–15), the Postgraduate Research
Seminar at the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music (2012–16), the Research forum at the
University of Southampton (2013), the Joint Conference for the International Federation for
Research in Women’s History and Women’s History Network in Sheffield (2013), ‘Music
Literature, Historiography and Aesthetics’, in London (2014), the Celebrity Studies Journal
Bi-Annual Conference at Royal Holloway (2014), the British Association for Victorian
Studies Conference in Cardiff (2016) and the Royal Musicological Association Annual
Conference in London (2016). Presenting in these forums provided an opportunity to receive
valuable feedback on various aspects of this thesis and helped me grow as a scholar and
writer.
v
Without significant financial support received over the course of my candidature this
thesis would not have been possible. I was extremely fortunate to be the recipient of a number
of awards and scholarships: an Australian Postgraduate Award and Australian Endeavour
Research Fellowship from the Australian Government; Melbourne Abroad Traveling
Scholarship from the University of Melbourne; and two Faculty Small Grant Schemes, the
Barbara Bishop Hewitt Traveling Scholarship, and the MacGeorge Bequest Scholarship for
Academic Excellence from the Faculty of the VCA & MCM.
On the first day of my PhD I made three lasting friendships. These people became my
pillars of support. Although pursing PhD studies in four different fields, the constant and
continued companionship of Dr Gemma King, Dr Sophie Ritson and Dr Marcus Carter has
had a significant impact on my thesis and my life. I was also truly privileged to be part of a
vibrant community of graduate musicology students at the Melbourne Conservatorium of
Music. I wish to thank Lydia Dobbin, Andrew Frampton, Shelley Hogan, Frederic Kiernan,
Sarah Kirby, Dr Rachel Orzech and Rachael Munro for their friendship and support. I am also
incredibly lucky to have such wonderful friends outside the PhD world. I wish to particularly
thank Edwina Clarke, Lydia Dobbin, Toby Glasor, Frederic Kiernan, Christine Muir, Julia
Payne, Simon Purtell and Ashlyn Tymms. I am also deeply grateful to Frederic Kiernan for
assisting with musical examples and to Peter Campbell, Gemma King, Sarah Kirby and Harry
Landgren for taking the time to proofread parts of this thesis.
Finally, I would like to thank my family. Mia, Sam, Harry and Sophie are my best friends.
Their unfailing love, encouragement and humour are a constant source of strength. Lastly, to
my mum, Jo. Without your tireless advocacy and support I would never have considered
myself capable of writing a PhD thesis.
I cannot thank you all enough for this has been a truly rewarding experience.
vi
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS
BBC British Broadcasting Corporation
vii
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Abstract ..................................................................................................................................... ii
Acknowledgements .................................................................................................................. v
Table of Figures........................................................................................................................ x
INTRODUCTION ................................................................................................................... 1
CHAPTER TWO: Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980) and Isobel Baillie (1895–1982) ............... 49
Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980) ............................................................................................... 50
Isobel Baillie (1895–1983) ................................................................................................ 61
CHAPTER THREE: Early Music and the Recital Platform: Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of
Old Music, 1920–25 ................................................................................................................ 74
Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music .............................................................................. 79
Reception of Silk’s ‘Concerts of Old Music’ .................................................................... 90
Sourcing Early Music ........................................................................................................ 95
CHAPTER FOUR: Festivals and the BBC: Disseminating Early Vocal Music, 1920–39
................................................................................................................................................ 108
‘Mirror of Musical Taste’: The Festival and Choral Society Tradition........................... 110
‘Great Rising of Public Taste’: BBC and Early Music.................................................... 128
CHAPTER SIX: ‘The Great English Soprano’: Defining the Early Music Voice ........ 167
Prima Donna in Victorian England.................................................................................. 169
As Good as a Prima Donna .............................................................................................. 174
viii
English Purity .................................................................................................................. 177
English Restraint .............................................................................................................. 179
APPENDIX A1: The Complete Singer: A Memoir of Dorothy Silk ............................... 229
APPENDIX B1: Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music, 1920–25: Programmes and
Promotional Material .......................................................................................................... 260
APPENDIX B3: Wednesday Evening Concerts at Wigmore Hall, 1929–31 .................. 299
APPENDIX C1: Bach Programmes Announced in the Musical Times ‘The Coming
Season’ and ‘Choral Society Programmes’, 1923–36 ....................................................... 310
ix
TABLE OF FIGURES
Figure 1: ‘Dorothy Silk’, postcard issued by Breitkopf & Härtel, 54 Great Marlborough Street
London W., n.d. [1900s]. Author’s own collection. ................................................ 30
Figure 3: ‘Dorothy Silk’, promotional brochure for ‘City of Birmingham Orchestra, Season
1926–1927’. ............................................................................................................. 36
Figure 4: The English Singers, 1920. Left to right: Cuthbert Kelly, Clive Carey, Steuart
Wilson, Flora Mann, Lillian Berger and Winifred Whelen. ................................... 41
Figure 5: The New English Singers, 1936. Left to right: Mary Morris, Eric Greene, Peter
Pears, Dorothy Silk, Cuthbert Kelly and Nellie Carson. ......................................... 44
Figure 7: An advertisement for Elsie Suddaby’s recordings with ‘His Master’s Voice’, 1928.
................................................................................................................................. 58
Figure 9: Advertisement for a ‘Grand Concert’ at Free Trade Hall on 22 June 1918. ............ 64
Figure 10: ‘Isobel Baillie’, postcard issued by Lassalle, 62 Baker Street, W.1, n.d. [1929].
Author’s own collection. ......................................................................................... 68
Figure 11: Photograph of Baillie’s first broadcast at Trafford Park in Manchester, 1920. Left
to right: Harry Wrigley (vocalist), John Wills (piano), Jo Lamb (violin) and Isobel
Baillie (vocalist). ..................................................................................................... 71
Figure 12: Programme cover of the third recital, Dorothy Silk’s Fours Recitals of Old
Classical Music, Steinway Hall, 5 February 1921 at 3:15pm. ................................ 83
Figure 13: Summary of repertoire performed at first concert series, 1920–21. ....................... 85
Figure 14: Summary of repertoire categories in the first series and those offered on the
Plebiscite list............................................................................................................ 88
Figure 15: Opening service of the Three Choirs Festival at Gloucester, 1937. ..................... 118
Figure 16: Dorothy Silk, Agnes Nicholls and Elsie Suddaby, Three Choirs Festival,
Worcester, 1923..................................................................................................... 121
x
Figure 17: The number of Bach’s vocal works programmed in ‘The Coming Season’
announcements in the Musical Times. ................................................................... 124
Figure 18: The number of times Bach’s vocal works included in the ‘The Coming Season’
announcements from 1923–24 to 1935–36. .......................................................... 125
Figure 19: Performances of Bach’s larger choral works (St Matthew Passion, St John Passion,
Mass in B minor, Christmas Oratorio and Magnificat), Handel’s Messiah and
Mendelssohn’s Elijah announced in ‘The Coming Season’ between 1923 and 1936.
............................................................................................................................... 125
Figure 21: ‘Dorothy Silk’, photograph by Claude Harris, Regent Street, W. [1920s]. ......... 184
Figure 22: ‘Dorothy Silk’, concert programme for the BBC Symphony Concerts Season
1930–31 at Queen’s Hall, 5 November 1930. ....................................................... 184
Figure 24: ‘Florence Austral’ as Brünnhilde in The Ring for British National Opera Company,
1925. ...................................................................................................................... 185
Figure 25: Silk performing the role of the Virgin Mary in Rutland Boughton’s Bethlehem,
1926. ...................................................................................................................... 187
xi
TABLE OF TABLES
Table 1: Musicians and Music Teachers in England and Wales, 1881–1931. ........................ 76
Table 2: ‘Dorothy Silk Concert’, recital programme, 3 June 1920 at Wigmore Hall.............. 81
Table 3: Musicians involved in ‘Dorothy Silk’s Four Recitals of Old Classical Music’, First
Series (1920–21)...................................................................................................... 84
Table 4: Plebiscite Concert Selection List (Items highlighted were selected for performance in
the concert). ............................................................................................................. 87
Table 6: Performances of Handel’s Messiah, Mendelssohn’s Elijah and Bach’s larger choral
works at the Three Choirs Festival between 1920 and 1938. ................................ 119
Table 7: Chamber Concert by Dorothy Silk (soprano), Joan Elwes (soprano), Mrs Percy Hull
(piano) and Snow String Quartet, Shire Hall, Hereford Music Meeting, Three
Choirs Festival, 9 September 1927 at 8pm............................................................ 123
Table 8: ‘Relationship between the number of BBC licences sold annually, the number of
British households and the number of BBC staff, December 1926–December 1936’.
............................................................................................................................... 129
Table 9: Soprano soloists in broadcasts of J. S. Bach between 1924 and 1939. Taken from the
BBC Radio Times, accessed through the BBC Genome Project. .......................... 134
Table 10: The Dream City, Louise Hanson-Dyer’s Paris housewarming programme, 9
November 1929. Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano) and Vally Lasker (accompanist).
............................................................................................................................... 158
xii
TABLE OF MUSICAL EXAMPLES
Example 1: Gustav Holst, ‘I sing of a maiden’, Four Songs for Voice and Violin, No. 1, bb. 1–
6. ............................................................................................................................ 153
Example 2: Gustav Holst, ‘Jesu sweet’, Four Songs for Voice and Violin, No. 2, bb. 17–21.
............................................................................................................................... 153
Example 3: Gustav Holst, ‘My soul has nought but fire and ice’, Four Songs for Voice and
Violin, No. 2, bb. 6–8. ........................................................................................... 154
Example 4: Gustav Holst, ‘Betelgeuse’, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, No. 12, bb. 1–6. ........... 159
Example 5a: Gustav Holst, ‘The Floral Bandit’, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, No. 6, bb. 42–53.
............................................................................................................................... 160
Example 6: Gustav Holst, ‘Things Lovelier’, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, No. 2, bb. 5–7. ..... 162
xiii
INTRODUCTION
In April 2007, the BBC Music Magazine published a survey of the top twenty greatest
sopranos of the recorded era.1 Maria Callas as the winner was no surprise, but there were only
three sopranos still singing publicly who made the list: Karita Mattilia (b. 1960) and Christine
Brewer (b. 1955) at fifteenth and seventeenth respectively, and at number ten, ‘early music’
soprano Emma Kirkby (b. 1949). For Kirkby’s many fans, this honour was richly deserved: as
one admirer of her work asserted, ‘if there is such a thing as a voice from God, then it belongs
to Emma Kirkby’.2 Others, however, found it incomprehensible that Kirkby could be
considered a greater singer than Elizabeth Schwarzkopf.3
Kirkby was the only soprano on the list not to have achieved fame as an opera singer and
had instead forged a career specialising in repertoire from the Medieval to High Baroque.4
Her singing style—described as ‘pure’, ‘light’ and ‘sexless’—was radically different from the
other ‘top sopranos’ and was repeatedly held up as the epitome of the early music vocal
sound.5 The impact of Kirkby’s voice on the revival of early music beginning in the 1970s is
indisputable, but it is wrong to believe—as so many reviewers claimed—that the ‘early music
1
‘Modern Divas Fail to Hit BBC Top Spots as Greatest Sopranos Ever’, BBC Magazine Bristol, 13
March 2007, http://www.bbcmagazinesbristol.com/newsread.asp?id=28344 (accessed October 2014).
2
Michael Tumelty, ‘Magnificat Emma Kirkby ABC Classics GBP13.99 4/5’, Herald, 6 January 2007.
3
‘Emma Kirkby: The Unsung Heroine’, The South Bank Show, ITV Productions, 22 July 2007.
4
Arthur Kaptainis, ‘Reigning Queen of Early Music’, Gazette (Montreal), 18 February 2006, 2.
5
Melanie Marshall, ‘Voce bianca: Purity and Whiteness in British Early Music Vocality’, Women &
Music, 19 (2015): 36–44.
1
Introduction
voice came out of nowhere’.6 The phenomenon of a specialist early music singer was not
new. From 1920 a generation of English sopranos emerged as leading exponents of a largely
forgotten revival of early music that fundamentally shaped English understandings of early
music and had an extraordinary impact on musical life following the First World War.
Perhaps the most significant of these specialist early music sopranos was Dorothy Silk
(1883–1942). In the unpublished biography of Silk’s life, ‘The Complete Singer – A Memoir
of Dorothy Silk’, the unidentified author suggests that immediately following the First World
War there was a ‘great revival of interest’ in old music. The author goes on to write that ‘it
was at this moment the stars ordained that a young singer named Dorothy Silk should have
completed the first part of her vocal training…and was now ready to gain more experience
from public appearances’. In possession of a ‘wonderful collection of old music’, Silk
introduced the English public to little known Bach cantatas and unknown works by Schütz,
Tunder and Purcell through recitals—including her pioneering concert series, ‘Concerts of
Old Music’ (1920–25)—broadcasts with the newly established British Broadcasting
Corporation (hereafter BBC) and performances with choral festivals and societies. Within a
short period, critics declared Silk a ‘pioneer’ and regarded her as an ‘authority on this period
of music’.7
In addition to Silk’s position as a leading exponent of early vocal repertoire, she became
the soprano of choice for many contemporary English composers, including Ralph Vaughan
Williams (1872–1958), Gustav Holst (1874–1934), Rutland Boughton (1878–1960),
Armstrong Gibbs (1889–1960) and Herbert Howells (1892–1982). This was often in
connection with the long-standing choral festival and society tradition where she was
repeatedly held up as the ‘perfect cathedral singer’ for her performances of larger choral
works that ranged from Bach’s Mass in B minor through to the oratorios of Edward Elgar
(1857–1934) and the choral symphonies of Vaughan Williams and Holst.8
From as early as 1920 Silk became a favourite with the English public, receiving
unanimous praise from critics who admired her ‘pure’, ‘light’ and ‘natural’ voice, which they
perceived as singularly appropriate for performances of early and English music. Moreover,
the language used to describe her voice was also used to depict her character and repertoire. It
6
Michael Church, ‘Classical – St James Baroque/Kirkby St John’s, Smith Square London’,
Independent, 7 January 2005, 4.
7
Sidney Campbell [attributed], ‘The Complete Singer – A Memoir of Dorothy Silk’, unpublished
manuscript, n.d. [1954?], Dorothy Silk Collection (hereafter DSC) CH6Tb8, Royal College of Music
Library (hereafter RCML), 1.
8
William McNaught, ‘The Three Choirs Festival. Worcester, September 5–10’, Musical Times 67, no.
1004 (1926): 928.
2
Introduction
was to this unique combination of qualities that critics attributed her success. This can be
seen, for instance, in a review published in the Continental Weekly in 1928:
The singing of Miss Dorothy Silk is of such a pure and natural beauty that it stands
as a thing apart defying criticism and analysis. It is sheer loveliness of sound, and is
the kind of far off abstract (and yet intensely beautiful) music which comes to the
mind’s ear when rest and peace enter the soul after long waiting. Her singing is
more than a perfect work of art; it is a work of Nature, including, of course, all the
attributes of a perfect work of art such as tone, intonation and faultless technique,
without which it would be impossible to hold the position she does—as England’s
greatest Bach-Exponent.9
Although Silk was considered a pioneer she did not remain alone for long. Throughout the
1920s a generation of English sopranos emerged as exponents of early and English music,
including Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980), Isobel Baillie (1895–1983), Dora Labbette (1898–
1984), Margaret (Mabel) Ritchie (1903–69), Margaret Field-Hyde (1905–95) and Joan Elwes,
to name only the most prominent.10 They became the leading soprano soloists for
performances of Handel and Bach at festivals and choral societies, they were known for
performing unfamiliar early vocal repertoire on the recital platform and regularly performed
works by contemporary English composers. Heard all over England through live performance
and regular broadcasts, they established successful reputations as English sopranos. Similar to
Silk, critics frequently praised their pure vocal quality and viewed their performance style as
uniquely appropriate for early and English repertoire.
This concept of a soprano specialising in early and English music was strikingly different
from what had come before. A study of the soprano soloists who had dominated the roll call
at the long-established performances of Handel before the First World War shows a marked
shift in career trajectory, repertoire and nationality. The music critic Herman Klein—when
looking back at the career of English soprano Carrie Tubb (1876–1976), who rose to fame in
the first years of the twentieth century—states that she followed in the long-established
progression of ‘great oratorio artists of the past’ who were also ‘great opera singers’. He
writes that ‘their training for the lyric stage almost invariably preceded their experience upon
the concert-platform; they graduated from one to the other as a matter of course’.11 While
Klein acknowledges that there were exceptions to the rule, including Charlotte Sainton-Dolby
(1871–85), Anna Williams (1845–1924) and Janet Monach Patey (1842–94), they were all
9
‘Musical Notes Miss Dorothy Silk’, Continental Weekly, 21 April 1928, 31.
10
When birth and death dates are not provided, it is because they could not be discovered.
11
Herman Klein, ‘British Singers and Players VI. Carrie Tubb’, Musical Times 63, no. 952 (1922):
387.
3
Introduction
contraltos, not sopranos. In fact, all of the celebrated performers of the soprano solos in the
great oratorios were operatic stars or at the very least schooled in opera, from Jenny Lind
(1820–87), Christine Nilsson (1843–1921) and Emma Albani (1847–1930) all the way
through to the Carrie Tubb (1876–1976) and Agnes Nicholls (1877–1959).12
The emergence of an English soprano specialising in early and English repertoire in the
years following the First World War was only possible because of a shift in the way in which
early music was perceived and understood. Generally speaking, the revival of early music has
‘no conveniently identifiable starting point’.13 As the English scholar and music editor
Godfrey Arkwright (1864–1944) suggested in 1921, periodic revivals of interest in early
music often mark ‘a pause or transitional state in musical development when it is not clear
what course music is going to take’.14 This can be seen in the last decades of the nineteenth
century when a renewed interest in England’s cultural and musical heritage intensified at the
same time as a growing national desire to break away from the ‘Agamemnons of Germany’
and create an English school of composition.15 J. A. Fuller-Maitland (1856–1936) observed
that from the 1880s England experienced a musical ‘awakening’ where ‘older types of
music…[were] most scientifically studied and most energetically revived just at the time
when the newer aspects of the art were beginning to be discerned’.16 This reappraisal and
renewal of English musical tradition culminated in the so-called English Musical Renaissance
and the rediscovery of England’s forgotten musical heritage.
This is reflected in, and partly attributed to, the publication of Grove’s Dictionary for
Music and Musicians (1879–89).17 The Dictionary went beyond fulfilling scholarly needs and
provided ‘a powerful Anglocentric document’ giving English musical culture ‘extraordinary
coverage and bias’.18 In the area of early English music, William Barclay Squire’s (1855–
1927) ‘Collections of Virginal Music’ and William Smith Rockstro’s (1823–95) articles on
madrigals and the motet were considered key contributions. In ‘Roots of a Tradition: The
First Dictionary of Music and Musicians’, Leanne Langley explains that ‘it was as if Grove’s
book had tapped a deep vein of British feeling about music, galvanizing research and at the
same time opening a new market for differentiated works in the same field’.19 This can be
seen through the extraordinary proliferation of revivalist activities by a small number of
12
Klein, ‘Carrie Tubb’, 387.
13
Harry Haskell, The Early Music Revival: A History (New York: Thames and Hudson, 1988), 10.
14
G. E. P. Arkwright, ‘A Note on Purcell’s Music’, Music & Letters 2, no. 2 (1921): 149.
15
J. A. Fuller-Maitland, A Door-Keeper of Music (London: John Murray, 1929), 220.
16
Fuller-Maitland, A Door-Keeper of Music, 220.
17
Meirion Hughes and Robert Stradling, The English Music Renaissance 1860–1940 (London:
Routledge, 1993), 76.
18
Hughes and Stradling, English Music Renaissance 1840–1940, 25.
19
Leanne Langley, ‘Roots of a Tradition: The First Dictionary of Music and Musicians’, in George
Grove, Music & Victorian Culture (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 189.
4
Introduction
enthusiasts that occurred from 1880, including the publication of early music editions and
performances by early music specialists and ensembles.
In the area of early music editions and articles, scholars and editors including Fuller-
Maitland, Squire, Arkwright, Richard Terry (1865–1938) and Edmund Fellowes (1870–
1951), together with leading composers, namely Hubert Parry (1848–1918) and Charles
Stanford (1852–1924), and their pupils, such as Vaughan Williams and Holst, made numerous
important contributions to the field. In addition to these well-known figures of English
musical life, significant contributions were made by a number of middle- and upper-class
women.20 One of the most influential figures was Lucy Broadwood (1858–1929). Daughter of
the piano manufacturer Henry Fowler Broadwood (1811–93) of Broadwood and Sons, she
was a significant figure in the English folk and early music revivals. Although highly
regarded as singer and accompanist, Broadwood chose not to pursue a professional
performing career and instead limited her performances to the ‘drawing room and charity
concert hall’.21 Dorothy De Val suggests in In Search of Song: The Life and Times of Lucy
Broadwood that this decision was influenced by society’s negative attitudes toward the public
performance of middle- and upper-class women.22 Broadwood instead turned her attention to
editing early music by J. S. Bach (1685–1750) and Henry Purcell (1659–95), including two of
his previously unpublished operas: the Amphitryon and The Gordia Knot Untied.23 These
editions complemented her work within the folk revival and ‘gained her entry into the more
rarefied atmosphere of musical scholarship’.24
Three other prominent female editors were Margaret Glyn (1865–1946), Hilda Andrews
(1900–83) and Sylvia Townsend Warner (1893–1978). Glyn studied organ, violin and viola
privately in London and became a specialist in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century English
keyboard music.25 She went on to edit a number of works including Twenty-One Old English
Compositions of the 16th and 17th Centuries Originally Written for the Virginal (1927),26
Elizabethan Virginal Music and Composers (1934),27 and Early English Organ Music
20
See Paula Gillett, Musical Women in England, 1870–1914: ‘Encroaching on All Man’s Privileges’
(New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000).
21
Dorothy de Val, In Search of Song: The Life and Times of Lucy Broadwood (Surrey: Ashgate, 2011),
64.
22
de Val, In Search of Song, 66.
23
E. David Gregory, The Late Victorian Folksong Revival: The Persistence of English Melody, 1878–
1903 (Lanham: Scarecrow Press, 2010), 286.
24
de Val, In Search of Song, 105.
25
Charles Abdy, The Glyns of Ewell: The Story of a Family from 1736 to 1946 (Surrey: Unwin
Brothers, 1994), 41.
26
Margaret Glyn, ed., Twenty-One Old English Compositions of the 16th and 17th Centuries Originally
Written for the Virginal (London: W. Reeves, 1927).
27
Margaret Glyn, ed., Elizabethan Virginal Music and its Composers (London: W. Reeves, 1934).
5
Introduction
(1939).28 Andrews’s was one of the first female graduates from the University of
Birmingham.29 She edited William Byrd’s 1591 manuscript anthology of keyboard music, My
Ladye Nevells Booke of Virginal Music (1926),30 and catalogued the King’s Music Library
with Squire (1927–29).31 She also wrote Westminster Retrospect: A Memoir of Sir Richard
Terry, published in 1948.32 Townsend Warner was an accomplished musician who was
prevented from pursuing musical study abroad due to the outbreak of the First World War. In
1917 she joined Fellowes, Terry, Alick (Alexander) Ramsbotham and her long-time lover
Percy Buck (1871–1947) as an editor of the Tudor Church Music Series before pursuing a
career as a successful novelist and poet.33
These activities resulted in vast amounts of previously unknown English music being
discovered, edited and written about. While some of these endeavours were undertaken for
antiquarian reasons, there was a growing enthusiasm to make these works accessible to the
broader public and position them within England’s musical tradition. William Ball explains in
‘Reclaiming a Music for England’ that these activities were in part linked to the belief that
‘England’s musical future lay in the recovery of her musical past’.34 W. A. Barrett articulated
this as early as 1886 when he declared that ‘What English musicians may do can be inferred
from the history of what they have done’.35 This concept of ‘historical precedent’ was,
therefore, used to unite English composers, musicians, scholars and critics in the promotion of
their cultural heritage. Although early music editions and articles were a central component of
the revival, the promotion of early music ultimately occurred through performance.
When it came to performing earlier repertoires, Sara Ruth Watson writes, ‘only very few
musicians knew anything about music before 1685, and fewer yet really cared to perform it.36
Despite the general truth of this statement, a growing number of musicians turned to early
music from the 1890s. Perhaps the most significant figure of the revival was Arnold
28
Margaret Glyn, ed., Early English Organ Music: 16th Century (London: Plainsong and Mediaeval
Music Society, 1939).
29
‘Obituary, Mrs Hilda Lees’, The Times, 5 November 1983, 10.
30
William Byrd, My Ladye Nevells Booke of Virginal Music, edited with historical and analytical notes
by Hilda Andrews and preface by Richard Terry (London: J. Curwen, 1926); reprinted with a new
introduction by Blanche Winogrow (New York: Dover Publications, 1969).
31
William Barclay Squire and Hilda Andrews, Catalogue of the King’s Music Library (London: British
Museum, 1927–29).
32
Hilda Andrews, Westminster Retrospect: A Memoir of Sir Richard Terry (London: Oxford
University Press, 1948).
33
Percy C. Buck, Edmund Fellowes, A. Ramsbotham, Richard Terry and Sylvia Townsend Warner,
eds, Tudor Church Music (New York: Broude Brothers, 1923–48). See, Claire Harman, Sylvia
Townsend Warner: A Biography (London: Chatto & Windus, 1989).
34
William Scott Ball, ‘Reclaiming a Music for England: Nationalist Concept and Controversy in
English Musical Thought and Criticism, 1880–1920’ (PhD thesis, Ohio State University, 1993), 216.
35
W. A. Barrett, English Glees and Part-Songs (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1886), 351.
36
Sara Ruth Watson, ‘George Moore and the Dolmetsches’, English Literature in Transition, 1880–
1920 6, no. 2 (1963): 67.
6
Introduction
Dolmetsch (1858–1940), who upon his arrival in London in 1883 swiftly ‘set the British
musical establishment on its collective ear’.37 Margaret Campbell, in her biography of
Dolmetsch, observes that as a promoter of music from the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, he made early music ‘speak to the people of his own time’ through concerts,
restoration of old instruments and publication of early music editions.38 His greatest
contribution to the revival was his survey of early performing practice, The Interpretation of
Music of the XVII and XVIII Centuries (1915), through which the ‘term “authenticity” was
given currency’. This seminal text profoundly influenced the subsequent early music revivals
of the twentieth century.39
The Dolmetsch consort and family house concerts were influential in exposing ‘amateur
musicians and literary-artistic circles’, including many members of the Bloomsbury group, to
early repertoire and instruments. From the 1890s, concerts were frequently held at the family
home in Dulwich, aptly named after the Elizabethan composer Dowland.40 A review of the
first concert at ‘Dowland’ on 12 December 1893 recalls the typical repertoire programmed:
the anthem Quam pulcra es by Henry VIII sung to the accompaniment of three viols and
organ, a lute fantasia, and a setting of Have you seen but a White Lily Grow sung to lute
accompaniment.41 The atmosphere of these house concerts can only be described as eccentric.
Recalling one such concert in the mid-1890s, Dolmetsch’s third wife, Mabel Dolmetsch
(1874–1963), wrote: ‘the concert room, tinted a soft diaphanous green, was entirely
illuminated by wax candles, set round the walls in hand-beaten brass sconces, and
interspersed with rare lutes and viols, suspended from hooks’.42 For many, a Dolmetsch house
concert was the first opportunity to hear Renaissance and Baroque music. The music critic
George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950) wrote that the activities of Dolmetsch and his family
encouraged him to investigate the early repertoire and the writer George Moore (1852–1933)
was so entranced by a concert at ‘Dowland’ that the protagonists of his 1898 novel Evelyn
Innes are fictionalised portraits of Dolmetsch and, to a certain extent, his daughter Hélène.43
37
Haskell, The Early Music Revival, 27.
38
For further discussion about Dolmetsch’s activities, see Margaret Campbell, Dolmetsch: The Man
and his Work (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1975) and Margaret Campbell, ‘Dolmetsch’, in Grove Music
Online, Oxford Music Online, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 14 April 2016).
39
Harry Haskell, ‘Early Music’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 13 March 2015).
40
Those who visited ‘Dowland’ included Florence Farr, Percy Grainger, James Joyce, George Moore,
William Morris, George Bernard Shaw, William Rothenstein, Ellen Terry, and W. B. Yeats.
41
Campbell, Dolmetsch, 66.
42
Mable Dolmetsch, Personal Recollections of Arnold Dolmetsch (London: Routledge and Kegan
Paul, 1958), 17.
43
George Moore, Evelyn Innes (London: Fisher Unwin, 1989). For a brief discussion of Moore’s
engagement with early music, see Elizabeth Roche, ‘George Moore’s “Evelyn Innes”: A Victorian
“Early Music” Novel’, Early Music 11, no. 1 (1983): 71–3.
7
Introduction
The novel’s opening passage creates a vivid image of a Dolmetsch house concert: ‘the viols
and the virginals surprised the visitor coming in from the street, and he stayed his steps as he
might on the threshold of a faery land’.44
On occasion, Dolmetsch gave concerts at London concert halls. These London concerts
comprised the same repertoire and musicians as the house concerts, but were advertised in
daily papers with the intention of reaching a wider middle- and upper-class audience.
Margaret Campbell explains that the concerts held at ‘Dowland’ and in London generally
received ‘constant and enthusiastic comment from the press’ and were frequently reviewed by
notable music critics, including Fuller-Maitland, Shaw and Terry’s cousin, John Runciman
(1866–1916). Despite Dolmetsch’s efforts to appeal to the London concert audience, he
remained outside the musical establishment throughout his career. A likely reason for this is
suggested by Cohen and Herb Snitzer, who explain that while Dolmetsch was ‘proselytised
among the amateur musicians and literary-artistic circles’, the London concert audience
considered his avant-garde concerts, where performers regularly dressed in Elizabethan
costume, as a curiosity.45 The often-questionable standard of Dolmetsch’s concerts may have
also hindered his success. As his pupil Ralph Kirkpatrick stated, Dolmetsch was ‘a man who
pride[d] himself on never practising’.46 Instead, he treated concerts and recordings as a ‘work
in progress rather than…the finished article’.47 Dolmetsch’s position as an outsider was also
influenced by his tumultuous relationships with other leading scholars and musicians,
including Squire and Fuller-Maitland.48 As a consequence, his extensive contribution and
advocacy of early music failed to reach a wider audience.
Of the small number of early music musicians active during this period, many were
women. Dolmetsch’s wives and daughter were highly visible within the early music revival
and were recognised as leading early music exponents in their own right. Hélène Dolmetsch
(1874–1924), Arnold’s only daughter by his first wife, was a gifted cellist and viol player.
From the age of seven she regularly performed in her father’s concerts. Over the course of her
career, Hélène also appeared as a soloist in London and the provinces and played cello and
viol da gamba with larger societies including the Bach Choir.49 Both Arnold’s second and
third wives were also highly regarded early music specialists. His second wife, Elodie, was a
44
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 29.
45
Joel Cohen and Herb Snitzer, Reprise: The Extraordinary Revival of Early Music (Boston: Little,
Brown, 1985), 25.
46
Ralph Kirkpatrick, ‘On Playing the Clavichord’, Early Music 9 (1981): 295.
47
Colin Lawson and Robin Stowell, Historical Performance of Music: An Introduction (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999), 9.
48
Campbell, ‘Dolmetsch’.
49
See, for example, ‘London Concerts’, Musical Times 55, no. 862 (1914): 708; and ‘Music in
Sheffield and District’, Musical Times 50, no. 794 (1909): 267.
8
Introduction
highly skilled harpsichordist, while his third wife, Mabel, specialised in the bass viol and is
best remembered for her extensive research into court dances of the sixteenth, seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries.50 Considering their background and family circumstances, it is not
unexpected that the Dolmetsch women were so active in the early music revival. What is
more surprising is the number of middle- and upper-class women who pursued early music as
performers.
Although largely forgotten today, three of the leading advocates and exponents of early
music performance were Nellie (1857–1929), Kate (1865–1948), and Mabel Chaplin (1870–
1960). Like other female exponents of early music, the Chaplin sisters or Chaplin Trio came
from a prosperous middle-class family and their musical pursuits were encouraged beyond the
domestic sphere. They attended the London Academy of Music and later studied with
eminent teachers on the continent: Nellie in Hamburg with Elise Timm, a leading exponent of
the Deppe piano method; and the Kate and Mabel in Brussels, Kate with the famous Belgian
violinist, teacher and composer Eugène Ysaÿe (1858–1931) and Mabel with the cellist and
gamba player Édouard Jacobs (1868–1914).51
The sisters were highly talented, and from the 1880s cultivated successful careers as
soloists and chamber musicians. By 1900 the Chaplin sisters had given a staggering number
of concerts in London, the provinces, and aboard, winning acclaim as far afield as Berlin,
where, in 1899, they ‘entirely won the recognition of their critical Berlin audience, a success
which is notoriously difficult to achieve’.52 Up until this point, the sisters’ repertoire, both as
soloists and chamber musicians, was overwhelmingly Romantic and modern. They found
success performing the standard repertoire of Mozart, Beethoven, Schumann, Mendelssohn
and Tchaikovsky, alongside contemporary repertoire by composers little-known today.
At the turn of the century, however, the Chaplin sisters changed musical direction and
began to pursue an interest in ‘ancient’ music. Although it is not clear why this occurred, the
turning point came in October 1903 with an ‘historical concert’ featuring Purcell’s ‘Golden’
Sonata, a Scarlatti keyboard sonata (played on piano), a Rameau trio and Dvořak’s
Bagatelles.53 The following year Dolmetsch introduced Nellie to the harpsichord and asked
her to perform Bach’s Double Concerto in C major at one of his concerts in Clifford’s Inn (an
50
Campbell, ‘Dolmetsch’.
51
‘Who’s Who’, Musical Standard 9, no. 225 (1898): 264; and Freia Hoffmann, ‘Chaplin’, Sophie
Drinker Institut, http://www.sophie-drinker-institut.de/cms/index.php/chaplin-schwestern (accessed 11
December 2016).
52
‘English Lady Musicians in Berlin’, The Times, 31 October 1899, 11.
53
W. D. S., ‘The Chaplin Trio’, Musical Standard 20, no. 514 (1903): 295.
9
Introduction
old London Inn in Chancery). Nellie had no knowledge of the harpsichord and it was a case,
as she recalls, of ‘fools rush in’.54
Nellie’s transition to the harpsichord coincides more broadly with the harpsichord’s
‘rebirth’. Edmond Johnson states in ‘The Death and Second Life of the Harpsichord’ that
between 1889 and 1912 ‘the harpsichord underwent a remarkable transformation’ from
‘historical curiosity’ to ‘an instrument with a vivid independent life of its own’.55 A surprising
number of female performers contributed to the harpsichord’s transformation.56 The most
significant harpsichordist of this period was the Polish musician Wanda Landowska (1879–
1956), whose first public performance took place in 1903. Recognised as the harpsichord’s
most ‘tireless and successful advocate’, she toured the instrument across Europe and made
regular appearances on the London concert platform.57 Another harpsichord specialist was
Violet Gordon-Woodhouse (1872–1948) who, like Nellie, was introduced to the instrument
by Dolmetsch, in 1910. She performed regularly with Dolmetsch and other early music
specialists and was celebrated for her musicianship and technique. In 1920 she was the first
person to record harpsichord music on the gramophone, and in 1924 was the first solo
harpsichordist to broadcast with the BBC. Like Broadwood, however, Gordon-Woodhouse
was a woman of wealth and social standing. She did not, however, choose to lead an active
public life as a musician. Rather, she made a considerable impression performing at house
concerts to the intellectual and artistic circles of the day.58
Shortly after Nellie’s transition to harpsichord, Kate and Mabel began to learn the viola
d’amore and viola da gamba, respectively. From then on, they concentrated almost entirely on
music by Renaissance and Baroque composers and their concerts were usually presented
under the themes of ‘ancient dance and music’, ‘old music’ or ‘Elizabethan music’.59 Their
repertoire mainly comprised English and French composers and the occasional Italian. In her
article on ‘The Harpsichord’ published in Music & Letters in 1922, Nellie recalled that at the
time the Chaplin Trio embraced early music there were few published editions. Aside from
54
Nellie Chaplin, ‘The Harpsichord’, Music & Letters 3, no. 3 (1922): 269.
55
Edmond Johnson, ‘The Death and Second Life of the Harpsichord’, Journal of Musicology 30, no. 2
(2013): 199.
56
See, for example, Katherine Ellis, ‘Female Pianists and Their Male Critics in Nineteenth-Century
Paris’, Journal of the American Musicological Society 50, no. 2–3 (1007): 353–85.
57
Johnson, ‘The Death and Second Life of the Harpsichord’, 199.
58
See Jessica Douglas-Home, Violet: The Life and Loves of Violet Gordon-Woodhouse (London:
Harvill Press, 1996).
59
This can be seen through the collection of concert programmes contained in the Chaplin Trio
Collection (hereafter CTC) at the RCML. See, for example, ‘A Concert of Music, Instrumental and
Vocal’, Hall of the Stationers’ Company, 27 February 1908’, concert programme, CTC, RCML;
‘Programme of Miss Nellie Chaplin’s Ancient Dances & Music’, Mappin Hall, 16 June 1914, concert
programme, CTC, RCML; and ‘Shakespeare’s England: Programme of Old English Dances,
Shakespearean dances and Elizabethan Music’, Fortune Theatre, n.d. [1912], concert programme, CTC,
RCML.
10
Introduction
the ‘trios of Rameau edited by Saint-Saëns, the trios and sonatas of J. B. Loeillet’ and the
instrumental editions of Purcell published by the Musical Antiquarian Society (1840–47) and
Purcell Society (founded in 1876), they arranged their repertoire from manuscripts.60
As with other early music specialists and scholars active at this time, the Chaplin sisters
had a strong desire to make the early repertoire known to the wider public. Between 1904 and
1930 they delivered, in person and on radio, hundreds of performances of early music and
became recognised exponents of ‘ancient’ music and dances. These concerts typically
included dancers and additional musicians dressed in Elizabethan costume. Unlike Dolmetsch,
whose typical audience comprised the literary and artistic avant-garde, the Chaplin sisters
appear to have primarily performed to a genteel audience of middle-class women. This is seen
through their numerous charity and matinee concerts and the promotion of their activities in
fashionable ladies’ magazines such as the Lady’s Pictorial.61 Like Dolmetsch, however, they
were not part of the musical establishment. They rarely performed their ‘ancient’ concerts at
any of the leading concerts halls and did not often collaborate with leading musicians of the
day. Instead, they worked almost exclusively with other women who were similarly interested
in the revival of early music.
While certain individuals, namely Fellowes, Terry and Dolmetsch, have dominated the
narrative of the early music revival, a variety of scholars, composers and musicians, including
a significant number of women made pioneering contributions through editions, histories of
music and public performance. Harry Haskell states in The Early Music Revival that activities
such as these moved the study of early music away from entrenched antiquarian ideology to
‘a radically new philosophy of music history, one that permitted early music to be appreciated
on its own terms instead of filtering it through nineteenth century preconception’.62 Although
significant changes occurred, the revival up until the First World War was not considered to
have to ‘re-forge and weld together…[the] chains connecting the past with the present’ so that
early music could be appreciated alongside the best of current musical endeavour.63 Johnson
attributes this to the fact that for the most part the revival ‘was made up of a diverse and often
60
Chaplin, ‘The Harpsichord’, 272–3. For further information on the Musical Antiquarian Society, see
Richard Turbet, ‘The Musical Antiquarian Society, 1840–1848’, Brio 29 (1992): 13–20; Richard
Turbet, ‘Musical Antiquarian Society’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 10 December 2016); James Hobson, ‘Musical
Antiquarianism and the Madrigal Revival in England’ (PhD thesis, University of Bristol, 2015); and
James Hobson, ‘Three Madrigal Societies in Early Nineteenth-Century England’ in Music and
Institutions in Nineteenth-Century Britain, ed. Paul Rodmell (Surrey: Ashgate, 2012), 38. See Chapter
Three for further discussion of the Purcell Society.
61
See, for example, Phillip J. S. Richardson, ‘The Revival of Old-World Dances’, Lady’s Pictorial,
300, press clipping, CTC, RCML.
62
Haskell, The Early Music Revival, 19.
63
Geoffrey Shaw, ‘What is British Music?: A Contentious Article’, Music Student 7 (1915): 213.
11
Introduction
From about 1920, however, early music increasingly became part of mainstream music
making, and the celebrated English sopranos who achieved acclaim as exponents of the early
repertoire played a significant role in this shift. This study investigates the revival’s leading
soprano exponents who were also significant figures within England’s broader musical life,
an area that has been little researched to date. By limiting the discussion to a small number of
sopranos and thus vocal repertoire, this thesis is able to provide a more nuanced
understanding of the revival of early music in England during the interwar period (1920–39).
This thesis will focus primarily on Silk, who was considered a pioneer and whose
contribution to English musical life has been largely forgotten. This will be complemented by
a secondary focus on Suddaby and Baillie. Of the other early music sopranos active during
this period, they were the most influential. In addition to this, they are regularly mentioned in
the secondary literature and their recordings have recently been re-released. Previously
unstudied primary material—including an extensive body of reviews and articles from
English newspapers and periodicals together with concert programmes, correspondence and
memoirs—form the basis of this thesis. Meaningful discussion of the ideas presented in the
press is achieved through an understanding of the cultural, social and historical context in
which Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s performances took place.
Centering the discussion on these three early music sopranos allows for an in-depth
investigation of the types of repertoire they performed, the forums in which it was received,
the main themes evident in the press reception, their relationship with contemporary
composers and the musical and extra-musical factors influencing their success. Framing the
thesis around these points also provides a unique opportunity to shed light on a number of
unexplored connections. How did the revival of sixteenth and seventeenth century music after
the First World War relate to the revivalist activities prevalent from 1880? How was music
previously regarded as archaic adapted and reinvented to become part of mainstream musical
life? And, how did the ways in which early music was perceived and understood correlate
with contemporary ideas of English music and musical tradition? By exploring these
connections through the activities of the revival’s leading soprano exponents, this thesis
shows that following the First World War the revival of early music in England increasingly
became an intrinsic and active element of mainstream musical life that reflected English tastes
in music.
64
Edmond Johnson, ‘Revival and Antiquation: Modernism’s Musical Past’ (PhD thesis, University of
California, 2001), 3.
12
Introduction
***
The questions explored in this thesis are addressed through a detailed examination of primary
sources, contextualised through engagement with a growing body of literature investigating
the impact of early music revivals on modern musical culture. Although relevant secondary
literature is reviewed as it arises in the following chapters, there are three prominent themes
threaded throughout the thesis that benefit from a more deliberate survey and discussion of
their associated terminology: early music revivals, nineteenth and early twentieth century
English music and culture, and female musicians. While numerous studies have been
dedicated to the performance of early music, the history of the revival during the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries has received considerably less attention. Haskell’s
The Early Music Revival: A History was the first important contribution to the field.65 As
Johnson explains, Haskell’s book provides an ‘essentially linear account of the revival,
tracing its most prominent developments from the early nineteenth century through the peak
of its commercial success in the decades following the Second World War’. While offering a
useful survey of key figures and institutions, the breadth of Haskell’s scope means that the
discussion is inevitably brief. This limits the book’s capacity to position the revival within its
larger cultural context.66 A new and important contribution is Juniper Hill and Caroline
Bithell’s edited volume The Oxford Handbook of Music Revival which is a key source in
understanding the cultural dynamics of music revivals.67 Other recent sources include several
important monographs which examine particular aspects or phases of the revival’s history in
greater detail. Notable among them are Katharine Ellis’s Interpreting the Musical Past, which
provides a highly detailed history of the revival of early music in nineteenth-century France;68
and Suzanne Cole’s Thomas Tallis and His Music in Victorian England, which traces the
reception of Tallis in nineteenth-century England. Cole’s book is of particular relevance not
just as the only extended study to explore the early music revival in England over the course
of the long nineteenth century, but also as a useful foundation for examining shifts in modern
musical culture by focusing on individual musicians.69 Rather than examining the revival of
early music through a broader study of early Anglican Church composers, Cole’s focus on
Tallis, ‘the Father of English Church Music’, ‘brings into clearer focus that mutual
65
Haskell, The Early Music Revival.
66
Johnson, ‘Revival and Antiquation: Modernism’s Musical Past’, 11.
67
Juniper Hill and Caroline Bithell, ed., The Oxford Hnadbook of Music Revival (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2014).
68
Katharine Ellis, Interpreting the Musical Past: Early Music in Nineteenth-Century France (Oxford;
New York: Oxford University Press, 2005).
69
Suzanne Cole, Thomas Tallis and His Music in Victorian England (Woodbridge, UK; Rochester,
NY: Boydell Press, 2008).
13
Introduction
interdependence of perceptions of the composer and of the music’.70 In doing so, she offers a
unique way of tracking broader attitude shifts over an extended period. Although this thesis
centres its discussion on individual performers, rather than a composer, the same approach
can be applied.
Alongside these substantial contributions to the field, there are a handful of articles and
chapters that offer useful insights into the revival of early music in England during the
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.71 While these are drawn upon throughout the thesis,
there are two studies that require particular attention. Rebecca Herissone’s chapter
‘Performance History and Reception’ in The Ashgate Research Companion to Henry Purcell
traces the ‘performance history and posthumous reception of Purcell and his
music…[and]…the ways in which interest in and knowledge of Purcell has been shaped’ from
the time of his death through to the present day.72 Of particular relevance is Herissone’s
investigation of how Purcell was elevated to the ‘status of national representative of English
music, particularly by figures central to the so-called English Musical Renaissance of the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries’. A detailed examination of musical and extra-
musical sources shows that through the ‘efforts of a small number of enthusiasts Purcell was
used as a tool to promote the cause of modern music’.73 The concepts noted by Herissone as
contributing to English understandings of Purcell are explored further in this thesis and used
to evaluate English perceptions of early music more broadly. Another valuable contribution is
Katherine Pardee’s chapter ‘The B-minor Mass in Nineteenth-Century England’ in Exploring
Bach’s B-minor Mass.74 Pardee examines the performance and reception history of the Mass
in B minor in nineteenth-century England and questions why in the last decades of the
nineteenth century did Bach’s music come to resonate with ‘English sensibilities’.75 The
themes explored by Pardee are drawn upon in this thesis to inform contemporary
understandings of Bach’s vocal music during the 1920 and 30s. At present, no extended study
70
Cole, Thomas Tallis and His Music in Victorian England, 10.
71
Additional studies, include, Marshall, ‘Voce bianca: Purity and Whiteness in British Early Music
Vocality’. Suzanne Cole, ‘Who is the Father? Changing Perceptions of Tallis and Byrd in Late
Nineteenth-Century England’, Music and Letters 89, no. 2 (2008): 212–26, Richard Turbert, ‘An Affair
of Honour: “Tudor Church Music”, the Ousting of Richard Terry, and a Trust Vindicated’, Music &
Letters 76 (1995): 593–600; and Richard Turbert, ‘“A Monument of Enthusiastic Industry”: Further
Light on “Tudor Church Music”’, Music & Letters 81 (2000): 433–6.
72
Rebecca Herissone, ‘Introduction’, in The Ashgate Research Companion to Henry Purcell, ed.
Rebecca Herissone (Surrey: Ashgate, 2012), 10. See, also Rebecca Herissone ‘Performance History
and Reception’, in The Ashgate Research Companion to Henry Purcell, ed. Rebecca Herissone
(Surrey: Ashgate, 2012), 303–51.
73
Herissone, ‘Introduction’, 11.
74
Katharine Pardee, ‘The B-minor Mass in Nineteenth-Century England’, in Exploring Bach’s B-minor
Mass, ed. Yo Tomita, Robin A. Leaver and Jan Smaczny (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2013), 292–311.
75
Pardee, ‘The B-minor Mass in Nineteenth-Century England’, 292.
14
Introduction
exists dedicated specifically to the early music revival’s history in England during the first
half of the twentieth century, an area that this thesis seeks—at least in part—to address.
The English fascination with the ‘historic’ is fundamentally connected to the concurrent
interest in England’s heritage, which increasingly became a subject of public discourse from
the last decades of the nineteenth century. As previously mentioned, this is intimately tied up
in the renewal of English musical culture that occurred from this time, commonly termed the
76
Robert P. Morgan, ‘Tradition, Anxiety, and The Current Musical Scene’, Authenticity and Early
Music, ed. Nicolas Kenyon (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 57.
77
Haskell, The Early Music Revival: A History, 1.
78
Haskell, ‘Early Music’.
79
Carl Dahlhaus, Foundations of Music History (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 67.
15
Introduction
English Musical Renaissance. Histories charting the progress of the nation’s music through
the activities and reception of the so-called English Musical Renaissance focus on the
founding of music schools and colleges, notably the Royal College of Music (hereafter
RCM), the expanding concert scene both in London and the provinces and the support of an
influential music press. There is particular emphasis on Englishness and national identity in
music through the pastoral and the rediscovery of folk-song and English music from the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
This period has been explored by a number of musicologists over the course of the
twentieth century—most notably the early work of Michael Trend, Peter J. Pirie and Frank
Howes and more recent studies by Meirion Hughes and Robert Stradling, Alain Frogley and
Nicholas Temperley’.80 Opinions surrounding the English Musical Renaissance have,
however, changed over the years: Frank Howes’s 1966 account praises their national efforts
as ‘historical fact’,81 whereas Hughes and Stradling’s less than flattering 1996 study argues
the movement was led by a ‘self-appointed and self-perpetuating oligarchy’ who dismissed all
native composers who did not confirm to the aesthetic views held at the RCM.82 Despite the
issues surrounding the formation and aesthetic practices of the ‘English Musical
Renaissance’, the movement’s impact cannot be dismissed. This is seen most obviously at the
RCM, which under the leadership of Parry and Stanford guided the next generation of English
composers, including Vaughan Williams, Holst, Howells and others who were credited with
ridding ‘English concert life of the stifling effect of poorly imitated German music’.83
Although the composers associated with the so-called English Musical Renaissance have
received considerable attention, studies of the rediscovery of England’s forgotten musical
heritage have focused primarily of the English folk tradition.84 Although all the histories
above and numerous monographs on composers active during this period make a point of
noting the early music revival’s impact on the outlook of English composers and wider music
80
Michael Trend, The Music Makers: The English Musical Renaissance from Elgar to Britten
(London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1985); Peter J. Pirie, The English Musical Renaissance (London:
Victor Gollancz Ltd, 1979); Frank Howes, The English Musical Renaissance (London: Secker &
Warburg, 1966); Hughes and Stradling, English Music Renaissance 1840–1940, Alain Frogley,
‘Rewriting the Renaissance: History, Imperialism, and British Music since 1840’, Music & Letters, 84,
no. 2 (2003): 241–57; and Nicholas Temperley, ‘Xenophilia in British Musical History, in Nineteenth-
Century British Music Studies, ed. Bennett Zon (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1999), 3–22.
81
Howes, The English Musical Renaissance, 32.
82
Hughes and Stradling, English Music Renaissance 1840–1940, xv.
83
Derek Scott, The Singing Bourgeois: Songs of the Victorian Drawing Room and Parlour (Aldershot:
Ashgate, 2001), 204. See Chapter Five of this thesis for further discussion of relevant literature.
84
For information on why revivals of folk music generally dominate research, see Juniper Hill and
Caroline Bithell, ‘An Introduction to Music as Concept, Cultural Process, and Medium of Change’, in
Oxford Handbook of Music Revival, ed. Caroline Bithell and Juniper Hill, Oxford Handbooks Online,
http://www.oxfordhandbooks.com (acceded 27 January 2016).
16
Introduction
making, it is not often that these assertions are furnished with further detail. There is,
however, one excellent contribution to the place of early music during the formative years of
the so-called English Musical Renaissance. William Scott Ball’s 1993 PhD thesis
‘Reclaiming a Music for England: Nationalist Concept and Controversy in English Musical
Thought and Criticism, 1880–1920’ examines the ‘intellectual impulses which provide the
rationale for music composed’ between 1880 and 1920. As part of his discussion Ball
explores the vibrant intellectual debate surrounding ‘England’s musical past [as] a precedent
for national style’.85 This has been a useful foundation for tracing shifts in English attitudes
toward early music after the First World War.
In addition to England’s compositional engagement with the musical past, this thesis
examines the two prominent musical institutions which formed the backbone of Silk’s—and
Suddaby and Baillie’s—musical activities: the long-standing choral festival and society
tradition and the newly established BBC. Highly influential in disseminating music to a wider
audience and in shaping the musical tastes of the country, they offer a unique means for
investigating the extent to which early music was promoted to the broader English public.
Although no specific study examines the place and function of early music in these settings,
there are a small number of excellent studies that provide a useful foundation for further
investigation. There are also a number of important contributions exploring the history of
choral festivals and societies, including Pippa Drummond’s The Provincial Music Festival in
England, 1784–1914, Anthony Boden’s Gloucester, Hereford, Worcester – Three Choirs: A
85
Ball, ‘Reclaiming a Music for England’, 212–57.
86
Matthew Riley, ed., British Music and Modernism, 1895–1960 (Surrey: Ashgate, 2010).
87
Christopher M. Scheer, ‘“A direct and intimate realization”: Holst and the Formalism on the 1920s’,
in British Music and Modernism 1895–1960, ed. Matthew Riley (Surrey: Ashgate, 2010), 109–24; and
Laurel Parsons ‘Early Music and the Ambivalent Origins of Elisabeth Lutyen’s Modernism’, in British
Music and Modernism 1895–1960, ed. Matthew Riley (Surrey: Ashgate, 2010), 269–92.
17
Introduction
History of the Festival, Brian Pritchard’s doctoral thesis ‘The Musical Festival and the Choral
Society in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries: A Social History’ and Charles McGuire’s
Music and Victorian Philanthropy: The Tonic Sol-fa Movement.88 This thesis also draws upon
Jennifer Doctor’s The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 1922–1936: Shaping a Nation’s Taste
and Megan Prictor’s PhD thesis, ‘Music and the Ordinary Listener: Music Appreciation and
the Media in England, 1918–1939’, which provide an overview of the music policies and
insight into various programming decisions made by the BBC during the interwar period.89 At
present, there is still much work to be done in order to understand how early music was
perceived, understood and appropriated within English musical culture after the First World
War.
William Weber explains that when investigating how musicians work as ‘active agents
within musical life and thereby within society as a whole’ it is important to situate them
within the time in which they lived.90 This is particularly pertinent when examining the
contributions of female musicians, as their careers are inextricably bound up with and
influenced by society’s expectations and perceptions of womanhood. There are several
important studies on the representation of women in interwar England, including Billie
Melman’s Women and the Popular Imagination in the Twenties, Deirdre Beddoe’s Back to
Home and Duty, Adrian Bingham’s Gender, Diversity and the Popular Press in Inter-war
Britain and Lucy Bland’s Modern Women on Trial.91 These studies draw heavily on the daily
press, ladies’ magazines, popular novels and various memoirs to provide a picture of
womanhood after the First World War. This is a fascinating period for gender historians
because, as Bingham explains, the war ‘posed a conspicuous challenge to conventional views
88
See Pippa Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in England, 1784–1914 and Anthony (Surrey:
Ashgate, 2011); and Anthony Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worcester – Three Choirs: A History of
the Festival (Stroud: Alan Sutton, 1992), Brian W. Pritchard, ‘The Musical Festival and the Choral
Society in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries: A Social History’ (PhD, University of Birmingham,
1968); and Charles McGuire, Music and Victorian Philanthropy: The Tonic Sol-fa Movement (New
York: Cambridge University Press, 2009)
89
See Jennifer Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 1922–1936: Shaping a Nation’s Taste
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999); Megan Prictor, ‘Music and the Ordinary Listener:
Music Appreciation and the Media in England, 1918–1939’ (PhD thesis, University of Melbourne,
2000); and Megan Prictor, ‘To Catch the World: Percy Scholes and the English Musical Appreciation
Movement 1918–1939’, Context 15 & 16 (1998): 61–71.
90
William Weber, ‘The Musicians as Entrepreneur and Opportunist, 1700–1914’, in The Musician as
Entrepreneur, 1700–1914, ed. William Weber (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University
Press, 2004), 3.
91
See Billie Melman, Women and the Popular Imagination in the Twenties: Flappers and Nymphs
(London: Macmillan, 1988); Deirdre Beddoe, Back to Home and Duty: Women between the Wars,
1918–1939; Adrian Bingham, Gender, Diversity and the Popular Press in Inter-war Britain (Oxford:
Clarendon, 2004); and Lucy Bland, Modern Women on Trial: Sexual Transgression on the Age of the
Flapper (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013).
18
Introduction
about male and female roles in society’.92 While all of the above studies focus on the
emergence of the post-war ‘modern woman’, they reach different conclusions about her
position in society. Melman and Beddoe suggest the press continued to ‘champion
domesticity’, opposing the growing number of single women trying to break out of the
established ‘separate spheres’. On the other hand, Bingham emphasises that the press
generally conveyed a more positive representation of women that encouraged them to be
‘modern’ and ‘career-minded’. Although Bingham’s study provides a more complex picture
of womanhood after the war than, for example, Melman’s, he largely dismisses the negative
portrayals.93 Bland’s contribution synthesises the arguments presented in the studies above
and together with a detailed examination of the press and other primary material provides a
comprehensive understanding of society’s often conflicted views of womanhood in the years
immediately following the First World War.94
Although the woman at the centre of this study cultivated successful careers from 1920,
they were born into Victorian England. As will become obvious throughout this thesis,
aspects of Victorian ideology remained prevalent in England after the First World War.
Therefore, when examining the lives and careers of these women, it is important to consider
how Victorian, prominently middle-class, attitudes informed the career trajectories and
reception of these English sopranos. Insights into the cultural and societal views regarding
Victorian women and music making have been explored in a number of excellent studies.
These have primarily focused on the intersection of women and music presented in fiction as
a means for exploring the wide and varied discourse surrounding the ideal English woman
and the place and function of different music repertoires in Victorian life. Notable
contributors to the field include Mary Burgen, Paula Gillett, Sophie Fuller, Nicky Losseff and
Phyllis Weliver.95 Their studies are complemented by a number of highly informative works
examining the music profession in England during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.96
92
Bingham, Gender, Diversity and the Popular Press in Inter-war Britain, 1.
93
Bland, Modern Women on Trial, 7–8.
94
See Chapter Six for a further discussion of relevant literature relating to women in England during
the interwar years.
95
See, for example, Mary Burgan, ‘Heroines at the Piano: Women and Music in Nineteenth-Century
Fiction’, in The Lost Chord: Essay on Victorian Music, ed. Nicholas Temperley (Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1989), 42–67; Paula Gillett, Musical Women in England, 1870–1914: ‘Encroaching
on All Man’s Privileges’ (New York: St Martin’s, 2000); Phyllis Weliver, Women Musicians in
Victorian Fiction, 1860–1900: Representations of Music, Science and Gender in the Leisured Home
(Aldershot: Ashgate, 2000); and Sophie Fuller and Nicky Losseff, eds, The Ideas of Music in Victorian
Fiction (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004).
96
See, for example, Christina Bashford and Roberta Montemorra Marvin, eds., The Idea of Art Music
in a Commercial World, 1800–1930 (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2016); Cyril Ehrlich, The
Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century: A Social History (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1995); Deborah Rohr, The Careers of British Musicians, 1750–1850: A Profession of Artisans
19
Introduction
As this thesis examines the revival of early music through the careers of the movement’s
leading soprano exponents, the concept and place of the ‘prima donna’ needs to be taken into
consideration. Since the eighteenth century the prima donna has fascinated audiences and
scholars alike. As a consequence, there is a large body of literature that discusses the multi-
faceted qualities that contribute to a singer achieving prima donna status.97 Among recent
contribution to the field is The Arts of the Prima Donna in the Long Nineteenth Century,
edited by Rachel Cowgill and Hilary Poriss.98 This excellent volume examines the ‘archetype
of the prima donna through the interactions of real, idealised and fictionalised singing
women’ and focuses on the unique relationship between ‘femininity, vocality and
performance’.99 In so doing, the volume explores ‘changing facets of the idea and identity of
the prima donna’ through her interaction with the social, cultural and musical ideas prevalent
at time of her success.100 The various methodological approaches used in this volume together
with the social, cultural and musical ideas presented in relation to women and the music
profession in England have been particularly informative in shaping the way this thesis
explores and critiques Silk’s contribution to and position within the early music revival.
These factors and their influences are then used to draw broader conclusions regarding
English attitudes towards early music during the interwar years.
The secondary literature examined throughout this thesis is used to contextualise a large
collection of unstudied primary material. Primary sources used include a rich body of music
journalism, which provides wonderful insight into musical life during the period under
examination. Meirion Hughes explains that prior to the First World War, the press was ‘the
most important medium for the transmission of ideas’ in England. As music could only be
experienced through live performance, primarily limited to the middle and upper classes, the
press became a forum for the general public to engage in the country’s musical life. Daily and
weekly newspapers and monthly periodicals provided extensive reviews and commentary on
the musical activities taking place all over England.101 After the war, however, there was a
shift in the way in which music was disseminated to the public. Through the advent of sound
recording and the newly-established BBC, music entered the home in ways that had not
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); and Weber, The Musician as Entrepreneur, 1700–
1914.
97
See Chapter Six for a further discussion of relevant literature relating to the prima donna.
98
Rachel Cowgill and Hilary Poriss, eds., The Arts of the Prima Donna in the Long Nineteenth Century
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).
99
Rachel Cowgill and Hilary Poriss, ‘Introduction’, The Arts of the Prima Donna in the Long
Nineteenth Century, ed. Rachel Cowill and Hilary Poriss (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), xxxi
and xliii.
100
Cowgill and Poriss, ‘Introduction’, xxix.
101
Meirion Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850–1914: Watchmen of Music
(Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002), 188.
20
Introduction
previously occurred. This opened up new platforms for music to be heard, discussed and
debated. Although these technological developments resulted in a slight reduction of music
criticism, newspapers and journals continued to be widely consumed during the interwar
period and thus remained a vital platform for the discussion of music.102 An investigation of
various English press sources, including daily and weekly newspapers and monthly
periodicals, provides contemporary perspectives on the way early music was perceived and
understood.
The research process involved consultation of more than 50 newspapers and periodicals
and the collection for more than 3000 articles, reviews, and news items. Aside from the press
sources accessible online, research included extensive consultation of archival material held
by the Royal College of Music Library (hereafter RCML), the British Library, the V&A
National Art Library, the BBC Caversham Archive and the Holst Birthplace Museum. These
archives provided access to personal collections of reviews and articles not available online.
For example, the ‘Dorothy Silk Collection’ at the RCML contains hundreds of press clippings
that span her career. Similarly, the Holst Birthplace Museum houses Holst’s extensive
collection of press clippings collated into scrapbooks. These archives were also a rich source
of concert programmes, correspondence and photographs, all of which help to create a clearer
picture of the early music activities that took place during this period and assist in situating
them within the broader musical landscape. A number of Silk’s recital and concert
programmes examined in the research and writing process are included in the appendices to
this thesis (Appendix B1–B3).
102
Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850–1914, 189.
103
Cowgill and Poriss, ‘Introduction’, xxix.
104
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’.
21
Introduction
early music enthusiast Harold Darke (1888–1973) and later became organist at St Georges
Chapel, Windsor.105 The ‘Memoir’ has been transcribed and included as an appendix to this
thesis (Appendix A1).106
This thesis does not claim to discuss every article, review and concert programme
associated with the early music revival during the interwar years. It does, however, undertake
an extensive and comprehensive survey of primary sources relating to Silk, Suddaby and
Baillie. This is complemented by a selection of articles and programmes that concern various
aspects of the early music revival and English musical culture. Extensive quotations are often
provided as many of the primary sources are presented here for the first time. It is important
to acknowledge that the scope of this study and its primary focus on Silk allows the admission
of only limited material relating to her peers, particularly her fellow early music sopranos.
That said, many of the issues and themes discussed in relation to Silk apply to her colleagues.
Finally, the extensive survey of primary and secondary material conducted during the
research and writing process of this thesis has been organised into prominent themes, events
and discourses informing the thematic structure of the chapters that follow.
***
This thesis consists of six chapters, all of which span the interwar years (1920–1939) and are
organised thematically. Chapter One and Chapter Two contain biographical sketches of three
English sopranos. The aim is to trace the main threads in their lives—including family
background, education, repertoire and performance engagements—and situate them within
the context of the society in which they lived. Chapter One is dedicated solely to Dorothy
Silk. As mentioned earlier, Silk was considered a pioneering exponent of early vocal
repertoire after the war and it is primarily through her career that this thesis will examine the
early music revival. It is necessary to dedicate an entire chapter to Silk’s life, as despite her
prominence in the decades following the First World War she has been mostly forgotten.
Chapter Two focuses on the life and career of Elsie Suddaby and Isobel Baillie, the most
successful of the other sopranos engaging in the performance of early vocal music at this
time. A brief examination of Suddaby and Baillie assists in contextualising Silk’s career while
also establishing the ways in which this generation of early music sopranos collectively
contributed to musical life. As will become evident, the shared focal points of these three
women’s careers informs the structure of the chapters that follow.
105
Stanley Webb, ‘Darke, Harold’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 12 December 2016).
106
The ‘Memoir’ does not have consistent page numbers. Instead, multiple sections begin from Page 1.
In order to clearly identify where quotations are located in the original document each section has been
given an easily identifiable heading to be used where appropriate in the footnotes.
22
Introduction
Chapter Three examines Dorothy Silk’s concert series ‘Concerts of Old Music’ that took
place in London between 1920 and 1925. This chapter not only explores Silk’s unique and
pioneering contribution to the revival immediately following the First World War, but also
questions how this series both influenced and reflected broader changes in the way early
music was perceived, understood and performed from 1920. The chapter begins with an
overview of London concert life prior to the First World War. This provides a context for
understanding the post-war musical climate in which Silk’s ‘Concerts of Old Music’ began in
1920. A survey of the genesis of Silk’s concert series follows. This informs the subsequent
discussion of the concert series’ press reception, a detailed examination of the factors
influencing repertoire selection and the extent to which Silk’s revivalist activities on the
recital platform were pioneering. The ideas and themes explored are drawn together to
indicate the degree to which Silk’s concert series contributed to and reflected changes in
English attitudes towards early music on the recital platform.
Informed by the ideas presented in Chapter Three, Chapter Four considers the broader
dissemination of early vocal music during the interwar period through Silk, Suddaby and
Baillie’s associations with the long-standing choral festival and society tradition, and the
newly-established BBC. Through their programming of specific repertoire and their capacity
to disseminate music to a wider audience, these institutions both reflected and influenced
public taste. They were, therefore, uniquely positioned to connect the broader public to the
revival of early vocal music taking place on the recital platform. The chapter begins by
providing an overview of provincial music festivals and choral societies tracing their position
in English musical life since the eighteenth century and the factors influencing repertoire
selection. This background is used to inform the shift in festival and choral society
programming following the First World War. Particular attention is given to the place and
reception of Bach and Silk’s celebrated position as a ‘festival singer’.107 The chapter then
goes on to focus on the BBC, exploring how the technological developments that occurred
during the interwar years became an extraordinary medium for disseminating music and
shaping audiences. This is achieved by providing an overview of the BBC’s extraordinary
position in public life followed by a summary the Corporation’s interwar music policies, with
particular reference to how early music aligned with the BBC’s initiatives to raise public taste
by popularising ‘good’ music.108 An examination of radio schedules follows, focusing on the
extent to which the public were exposed to the works of Bach and, to a lesser extent, the
music of early English composers. These schedules show that broadcasts of early repertoire
107
W. McNaught, ‘The Three Choirs Festival. Worcester, September 5–10’, Musical Times 67, no.
1004 (1926): 928.
108
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 28.
23
Introduction
Chapter Five opens by questioning why Silk, along with so many other English singers,
frequently programmed English music from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries alongside
the works of contemporary English composers, who, from 1920 were increasingly praised by
critics for sharing the ‘same progressive spirit’ as the early English masters.109 This chapter
explores this question by considering the extent to which the revival of early English music
influenced the musical direction and compositional style of English composers after the First
World War. This is achieved by focusing on the activities and compositions of Gustav Holst,
who admired Silk’s voice and artistic expression in early music and insisted on her for
performances of his soprano repertoire. The chapter begins with a brief overview of the
scholarly discourse surrounding English composition after the First World War. It not only
focuses on the themes promoted by the so-called English Musical Renaissance but also
situates the discussion more broadly around the concepts of musical modernism and its
connection to early music. This is followed by a summary of musical commentary prevalent
from 1920 that explores the proliferation of ideas concerning the revitalisation of English
music through an engagement with England’s musical past. Focusing on two of Holst’s song
collections associated with Silk, the chapter goes on to explore how Holst’s profound
engagement with and understanding of early repertoire informed his ability to create modern
English music perfectly suited for performance by England’s leading early music soprano.
Chapter Six draws together the ideas presented in previous chapters and questions how and
why Silk, and by extension the other early music sopranos active after the First World War,
came to be viewed by critics, composers, and the public as the ideal performers of early and
English music. This is achieved by probing further the dichotomy between the ‘purity’
required of the early music soprano and the stereotypical operatic prima donna established by
Moore in Evelyn Innes.110 The chapter begins by exploring the operatic prima donna in
Victorian England with reference to their position in society, associated characteristics and
repertoire. This is followed by an examination of Silk’s musical and extra-musical attributes
including vocal quality, image and performance style with the aim of determining how these
109
‘Appeal of the Old Music’, Daily Telegraph, 19 August 1922.
110
Grace Kehler, ‘The Prima Donna in Moore’s Evelyn Innes’, in The Arts of the Prima Donna in the
Long Nineteenth Century, ed. Rachel Cowgill and Hilary Poriss (Oxford: Oxford University Press),
147–66;
24
Introduction
qualities uniformly contribute to her position as the ‘Great English Soprano’ for performances
of early music.111
Lastly, the Conclusion aims to synthesise the findings of each chapter, drawing them
together to provide a fuller understanding of the early music revival in England during the
1920s and ’30s. It also offers some suggestions for extending the research presented in this
thesis. Finally, it argues that through an examination of the life and career of Dorothy Silk,
Elsie Suddaby and Isobel Baillie, the revival’s leading soprano exponents, it is possible to
gain greater insight into how early music was perceived and understood after the First World
War. It shows that this previously overlooked revival became a vital part of English musical
life by taking on a decidedly English appearance that reflected broader musical tastes.
111
‘Dorothy Silk (the Great English Soprano) Song Recital’ at Town Hall Calne, 3 February 1926,
concert programme, Kathleen Markwell Collection 1922–34, RCML.
25
CHAPTER ONE
‘THE COMPLETE SINGER’: DOROTHY SILK
(1883–1942)
In response to the death of English soprano Dorothy Silk on 30 July 1942, her long-time
friend, Mrs Horace Clive, wrote a letter to The Times beautifully capturing Silk’s contribution
to English musical life after the First World War:
To the younger generation the name of Dorothy Silk conveys little, but to the music
lovers of the 1920s she was a shining star. As an interpreter of Bach she stood
supreme, possessing just the qualities which that great music requires—purity of
tone, the perfect line and a deeply religious spirit. How many realise, when listening
to much of the vocal Bach so popular today, that many of these gems were heard the
first time in British programs in her series of old music concerts 1920–1926? It was
her pride to introduce a different Bach Cantata at every concert, side-by-side with
much earlier music by masters such as Schütz, Tunder and others. When should we
have heard Purcell’s electrifying ‘Blessed Virgin’s Expostulations’ or ‘Evening
Hymn’, had it not been for her?1
Silk was an influential figure in the revival of early music in England between 1920 and 1939.
Yet despite her prominence in her day, Silk’s contribution to English music has been mostly
forgotten. This chapter will, therefore, focus exclusively on Silk’s life and career. The aim is
to trace the main threads in her life—including family background, education, repertoire and
1
Mrs Horace Clive, Letter to The Times, [August 1942], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
26
Chapter One
performance engagements—and situate Silk within the context of the society in which she
lived. This will provide a useful foundation for the chapters that follow, as it will assist in
contextualising the important role Silk played in the revival of early and English music after
the First World War.
EARLY YEARS
Dorothy Ellen Silk was born in Kings Norton, Birmingham, on 4 May 1883. She had a
conventional upbringing in an ordinary middle-class family and appears to have had an
independent income throughout her life. The youngest of five children, her family life was
complicated. Her mother, Frances Mary Simpson (1838–1922), had married Samuel John Silk
(1844–72) in 1867 and together they had two sons.2 How Frances came to marry John is
unclear, as Campbell clearly states that she was in fact devoted to his elder brother, William
Henry Silk (1842–1919), a commercial traveller who had need to spend some time in
America. He returned to find his ‘long-time love’ engaged to his brother. Samuel Silk, who
Campbell describes as a ‘quiet’ and ‘retiring’ person, died in 1872. After his death, Frances
and William travelled to Switzerland to marry, as at this time in England it was illegal for a
man to marry his brother’s widow. Together they had two sons who died in infancy and three
daughters, of which Dorothy was the youngest.3
Silk’s father was remembered in his community as a kind and generous man, known for
his liberal ideas in the workplace. Campbell writes that he believed in opportunities for all,
including the education of women, which at this time was by no means widely accepted.
These ideas, however, did not translate into the education of his three daughters, who were
sent to the local day school where only the most conventional subjects were taught. In later
years Silk felt keenly the inadequacies of her education, especially as she ended up mixing
socially and professionally with England’s musical elite. Her father was also inclined to ‘rule
his family with the Victorian rod of iron’ and his ‘supreme authority’ affected the atmosphere
of the house and the lives and characters of those in it. Perhaps he was typical of his age and
generation, but Campbell believes William Silk’s dominance over his wife and daughters had
an impact on Dorothy’s all-too-sensitive temperament, for she ‘always vibrated like a tuned
violin-string to the slightest pressure of atmosphere’. Despite this, Campbell remarks that ‘the
essential sweetness and buoyancy of her nature’ and the ‘determination and need in her to
2
Dorothy Silk’s half brothers: Christopher John Silk (1869–1937) and Ernest William Silk (1871–
1944).
3
Dorothy Silk’s two older sisters: Edith Mary Silk (1877–1954) and Frances Eliza Simpson (1880–
1950).
27
Chapter One
fulfil her talent for singing…was not dulled or in any way crushed by an over-dominating
father’.4
Silk’s musical and vocal talents were obvious from a young age: she made her first
appearance as a singer ‘at the tender age of four’ at a local function.5 She often recalled this
event in interviews, stating it had been a defining moment, for she ‘loved singing ever since’.6
Her father made no attempt to stand in the way of her development, as long as it was to
remain within the limits of a provincial town. She performed regularly at social gatherings
and local concerts, such as at the Stourbridge Town Hall.7 Hugh Morton, a family friend who
later became President of the University of Birmingham, also ensured she developed a wide
appreciation of the arts, providing her with tickets for concerts and lectures. By the time Silk
reached her early twenties, her father came to the conclusion that his daughters should be
given ‘wider scope and opportunities’.8 His change of attitude allowed Silk to pursue a career
in music.
In 1904, when Silk was 21, her father retired from business and sought a change of scene.
After seeking the advice of music critic Ernest Newman (1868–1959) and Dr Theodor
Lierhammer, a Professor of singing at the Royal Academy of Music, both of whom had heard
Silk sing at local functions, it was decided the whole family would move to Vienna so Silk
could take lessons from Lierhammer’s former teacher, Johannes Ress (see Figure 1), who was
considered the foremost singing teacher in Vienna. He taught many acclaimed singers
including the soprano Selma Kurz (1874–1933), known for her brilliant coloratura technique,
and Anna von Mildenburg (1872–1947), the famous Wagnerian soprano. When interviewed
in 1922 for the Musical Times, Silk stated the two years she spent in Vienna were wonderful:
‘I was saturated there in music—such days and nights of concerts and opera, and, among the
best things, the afternoons at Busoni’s, when he played on and on!’9 However, while the
musical environment was inspiring, Ress disappointed her.
4
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 7.
5
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, Musical Times 63, no. 950 (1922): 229. The
author ‘C’ in the Musical Times is known to be H. C. Colles.
6
‘Matters Feminine, Woman’s Way from Day to Day, Miss Dorothy Silk’, Derby Daily Telegraph, 5
February 1927, 3.
7
‘Country and Colonial News’, Musical Times 48, no. 771 (1907): 335.
8
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 7.
9
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
28
Chapter One
would get him to hear me interpret Wolf, he would listen without interest or
comment and then turn me back again to ‘Una Voce poco fa’.10
Although Silk claimed to be ‘disappointed’ with the time spent with Ress, Campbell credits
her perfect vocal technique to Ress’s ‘wise and strict training’. Campbell believed Ress would
have recognised in her an ‘obvious intense musical feeling and understanding’ necessary for
approaching Lieder, but also understood that she required a sound technique ‘lest she do
irrevocable damage to a young voice of such a delicate texture’. Thus, he refused her requests
and limited her training to ‘voice production, exercise and the strict schooling of bel canto
and coloratura’.11 As Campbell writes, this would have been:
an excellent exercise in patience and discipline to her eager and ardent spirit…her
future audience came to be grateful for it. Such beauty of line and phrasing, such
purity and flexibility are only achieved in a hard school, and that she experienced in
Vienna during those two years.12
After her return from Vienna, Silk pursued a professional career as a concert singer. In
1910 she toured England with the acclaimed contralto Clara Butt (1872–1936).13 Critics
frequently noted Silk’s position as a ‘newcomer’. They also remarked that she possessed a
‘pure and sweet soprano’ voice that was ‘admirably trained and very flexible’.14 Silk recalled
in an interview in 1925 that ‘her tour with Dama Clara Butt [was] one of the great times of
her life, and spoke of the unfailing kindness of that unique singer’.15 Campbell explains,
however, that Silk felt like ‘an attendant in royal progress’ and that even ‘in those early
days…anything in the nature of “show” or “putting oneself across” amused her immensely,
alien as it [was] to her own character of gentle sincerity’.16
10
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 229.
11
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 8.
12
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 8.
13
See H. W. Ponder, Clara Butt: Her Life Story, foreword by Clara Butt (London: Harrap, 1928); and
Sophie Fuller, ‘“The Finest Voice of the Century”: Clara Butt and Other Concert-Hall and Drawing-
Room Singers of Fin-de-siècle Britain’, in The Arts of the Prima Donna in the Long Nineteenth
Century, ed. Rachel Cowgill and Hilary Poriss (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 308–27.
14
‘Mr Simpson’s Subscription Concerts, Madame Clara Butt’, Evening Telegraph (Dundee), 19
October 1910, 4.
15
‘Matters Feminine, Woman’s Way from Day to Day, Miss Dorothy Silk’, Derby Daily Telegraph, 5
February 1927, 3.
16
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 10.
29
Chapter One
Figure 1: ‘Dorothy Silk’, postcard issued by Breitkopf & Härtel, 54 Great Marlborough
Street London W., n.d. [1900s]. Author’s own collection.
17
‘Miss Dorothy Silk, Soprano. Extracts from Recent Press Opinions’, Imperial Concert Agency
promotional pamphlet n.d. [1913], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
30
Chapter One
Sometime in 1911, Silk decided to move to London to further her career. A promotional
pamphlet summarising her concerts and reviews from 1912 to 1913 provides an interesting
overview of the repertoire she performed at this time: Debussy’s Blessed Damozel, Gounod’s
Faust and Sullivan’s Golden Legend, along with German, French and English songs from
presumably the same period (see Figure 2).18 To this, Campbell adds that her repertoire also
included most of the soprano oratorio solos. Critics made frequent reference to her ‘wonderful
purity and flexibility’ of voice and declared she was at ‘the fore-front of English singers’.19
That being said, they also called attention to an ‘occasionally weak voice’ and a ‘timid stage
presence’.20 Recalling this time, Silk described herself as ‘naïve’ and recognised that this
initial move to London was premature.21 Campbell also agreed, suggesting that she would
have benefitted from a stronger grounding, performing before ‘smaller and less critical
audiences’.22 This realisation prompted Silk to change her approach and to concentrate on
obtaining provincial engagements, which soon became a significant aspect of her career. Silk
declared she received the best of her training in the provinces. She cautioned young singers
not to make the same mistake of ‘singing prematurely in London’23 and instead encouraged
them to ‘sing anywhere and everywhere and do anything you are asked to do’.24
Whatever benefits might have come from Silk’s time in London followed by her move to
provincial singing were ‘dashed’ by the outbreak of the First World War in 1914. For the
war’s duration, musical activity and concert giving were significantly reduced and many
promising young careers were put on hold.25 Silk returned to Birmingham, where she served
as a housemaid at Highbury Hospital and sang when the opportunity arose, which was not
often.26 At one of her rare public performances during this period, Silk’s choice of repertoire
caught the attention of critics, with a review in the Musical Times of May 1915 stating:
18
‘Miss Dorothy Silk, Soprano. Recent Press Opinions’, Imperial Concert Agency promotional
pamphlet for 1913, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
19
‘Faust’, Isle of Wight Observer, 29 March 1913; and ‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, North-Eastern Daily
Gazette, 14 November 1912.
20
‘Concert’, Daily Telegraph, n.d. [1912], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML
21
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 229..
22
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 10.
23
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 229
24
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 11.
25
Christopher Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett: The Rise and Fall of a Musical Empire (London: Ashgate,
2005), 92. See, also, Jane Angell, ‘Art Music in British Public Discourse During the First World War’.
(PhD thesis, Royal Holloway University, 2014),
26
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 12; and C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’,
229.
31
Chapter One
Miss Dorothy Silk’s pure and silvery soprano voice was heard to advantage…in
Purcell's War Song, arranged by Miss Lucy Broadwood from old manuscripts in the
British Museum.27
This review is the first mention of Silk performing Purcell, but it was not to be the last.
During the war she immersed herself in the repertoire of the Baroque. When asked how this
came about she said:
The credit goes first to a dead lover of music, Edward Amphlett. He was killed in
the war. He had a passion for the old things, and spent much time collecting scores
of Tunder and Schütz and such-like… His scores were left to my very good friend
Miss Constance Layton. It was she who inveigled me into delving there.28
Captain Edward Baylie Amphlett (1877–1915) of the 12th Worcestershire Regiment was
killed in the Dardanelles on 4 June 1915. He was educated at Marlborough and Worcester
College, Oxford, as were William Henry Hadow (1859–1937), Percy Carter Buck (1871–
1947) and Henry Cope Colles (1879–1943), all significant individuals in the promotion and
revival of early music in Britain. Amphlett later became a lawyer, served with Paget’s Horse
in South Africa and after some years was appointed Police Magistrate in the Island of
Grenada, West Indies. He resigned this position to volunteer during the First World War. His
obituary in the Musical Times states ‘he was well known in musical circles in Worcestershire
and Birmingham’.29 He participated in a number of town hall concerts around Worcestershire,
as well as presiding over meetings for the Worcestershire Musical Competition.30 Campbell
describes Amphlett as a ‘great lover’ of the pre-Bach masters who had ‘spent much time
searching out and collecting the scores’.31 It is not known if Amphlett knew Silk, but
considering their mutual involvement in the Worcestershire and Birmingham musical
community it is likely they would have at least crossed paths. He did presumably have a close
relationship with the London-based singing teacher Constance Layton, to whom he left his
extensive music collection, containing ‘a number of rare and hitherto unsung (or at least in
English unsung) manuscripts and scores’.32 Constance Ida Layton (1855–1926), known to all
as C.L., had heard Silk perform at a concert in Birmingham and instantly recognised in her
the ‘ideal voice and personality to interpret the early repertoire’. While it is unclear from
Campbell’s ‘Memoir’ exactly when this took place, he suggests that sometime before 1920,
27
‘Music in the Provinces’, Musical Times 56, no. 869 (1915): 430.
28
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 229.
29
‘Obituary: Edward Baylie Amphlett’, Musical Times 56, no. 869 (1915): 414.
30
‘Country and Colonial News’, Musical Times 48, no. 772 (1907): 405; and ‘Mr. Ernest Newman on
Competitive Musical Festivals’, Musical Times 5, no. 814 (1910): 1.
31
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 13.
32
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 13.
32
Chapter One
C.L. brought Silk to London and provided her with a room, where she set to work studying
this period of music. And so, as Campbell points out, this was how early music and in
particular J.S. Bach ‘came to be such an important [aspect of] Dorothy’s life’.33
EARLY MUSIC
The turning point in Silk’s career came in 1920 when her name was mentioned to conductor
Hugh Allen (1869–1946). Allen was an important figure in British musical life during the first
half of the twentieth century: The Times, in 1946, described him as ‘the acknowledged but
unofficial head of the music profession in this country’.34 He was appointed conductor of the
London Bach Choir in 1908, inheriting the role from Henry Walford Davies (1869–1941)
before passing it on to Ralph Vaughan Williams in 1921. In 1918 Allen was made a Professor
of Music at Oxford and was appointed Director of the Royal College of Music in London
soon after. In this role, he expanded the size of the college from 200 to 600 students and
consolidated the alliance between the RCM and the Royal Academy of Music. He stayed on
as Director of the RCM until 1937, retained his professorship at Oxford for the rest of his life
and continued to conduct.35 Allen sent for Silk to sing for him at Oxford. Recalling her
audition some years later, Allen stated, ‘I knew the first time I heard [her] that no one could
sing Bach like that in England’.36 He subsequently asked Silk to perform in the Bach Choir’s
first complete post-war London festival in April 1920. Basil Keen, author of The Bach Choir:
The First Hundred Years, explains that Allen wanted the festival to ‘cover all aspects of
Bach’s creative activity’.37 This was clearly achieved: Colles remarked in the Musical Times
that this was the most comprehensive programme of Bach’s output given by the choir since its
formation in 1876.38 Allen’s initial impression of Silk was not wrong: alongside the
distinguished Bach tenor Gervase Elwes (1866–1921), Silk—who was at that time relatively
unknown—was considered the most successful singer of the festival. Colles in the Musical
Times observed: ‘Miss Silk was the only one of the solo singers in this concert who did
anything to remove the impression that the general level of solo-singing is inadequate for the
performance of Bach’s greater works’.39 Silk’s participation in the Bach Choir Festival
facilitated her success in two interconnected aspects of her career: her substantial and far-
33
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 13.
34
‘Sir Hugh Allen’, The Times, 21 February 1946, 7.
35
H. C. Colles and John Cruft, The Royal College of Music: A Centenary Record 1883–1983
(Portsmouth: Royal College of Music, 1982): 45.
36
Quoted in Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 28.
37
Basil Keen, The Bach Choir: The First Hundred Years (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 103.
38
H. C. Colles, ‘The Bach Choir’, Musical Times 61, no. 927 (1920): 317.
39
Colles, ‘The Bach Choir’, 316.
33
Chapter One
reaching involvement in the revival of early vocal music and her position as ‘the unrivalled
Bach singer of her day’.40
Two months after the Bach Festival, Silk and the baritone and composer Murray Davey
performed Schütz’s Quando se claudunt at Wigmore Hall. The press favourably reviewed the
performance, with Ernest Newman questioning ‘why such beautiful old things hardly ever
came to light’.41 With Newman’s encouragement Silk decided to organise four concerts of old
music during the next winter.42 Campbell proclaimed that London concertgoers had had
nothing like this brought to them before and the series aroused considerable interest.
Promoting the concert series, the Musical Times stated:
The rescuing from oblivion of fine old works is only a little less important than the
production of fine new ones… Musicians sometimes complain that such music is
not easily accessible. They can take the first steps towards making it so by
supporting such concerts as these. The progress of events is simply acquaintance-
appreciation-demand-publication.43
The series became known as ‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music’ and ran from 1920 to
1925 in London. She introduced little-known Bach cantatas, unknown works by Schütz and
Tunder, and reintroduced Purcell’s Evening Hymn and Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation to
English audiences. The important role this concert series played in shaping Silk’s career
cannot be dismissed lightly, and will be discussed further in Chapter 3. It quickly positioned
her not only as a specialist of Bach but also as a pioneer within the early music revival.
In addition to her hugely popular early music concert series, Silk regularly delivered
recital programmes in London and the provinces. Her typical repertoire encompassed the arias
of Bach and the breadth of English song from the Elizabethans through to the present day.44
This can be seen, for instance, through the considerable number of recitals Silk gave with the
accompanist Kathleen Markwell. Her connection to Wigmore Hall also remained strong.
From 1929 to 1931 she became one of five committee members of the ‘Wednesday Evening
Concerts’ series. The other members of the committee—Harold Samuel, Myra Hess, Leon
Goossens, Ivor James and Isolde Menges—were all leading musicians of the day. The
intention for the series, clearly articulated in the concert programmes, was ‘to establish a
centre where those who love good music can listen to those who love playing it for its own
40
‘Obituary’, Musical Times 83, no. 1196 (1942): 319.
41
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
42
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
43
‘Occasional Notes’, Musical Times 61, no. 933 (1920): 748.
44
See Appendix B2: Dorothy Silk’s Recital Programmes, 1912–40.
34
Chapter One
sake and not for any peculiar advantage arising therefrom’.45 The committee members
themselves received no remuneration: any surplus from the concerts was directed to the
‘furtherance of [the] scheme’.46 Campbell described the series as a ‘veritable feast of music’.47
Programmes ranged from cantatas for various combinations of voices and instruments;
instrumental or piano concertos accompanied by a small chamber orchestra; string trios,
quartets and quintets; and a wide range of vocal music from motets and madrigals performed
by the Tudor Singers and English Singers, vocal duets such as Purcell’s ‘Elegy on the Death
of Queen Mary’, and song cycles and vocal quartets by Brahms and Schumann.48
FESTIVAL REPERTOIRE
While, as Campbell writes, ‘in this age of specialization her name [was] immediately linked
with the singing of Bach’, this position came not only from her concert series but also from
her numerous performances of his larger works with choral societies and festivals around
Britain. More specifically, her name came to be associated with the soprano solos in Bach’s
Mass in B minor and St Matthew Passion. Silk’s work with British choral societies was not,
however, limited to the performance of Bach. Campbell explains:
Her capabilities were too wide and deep to be contained in one special narrow
channel and confined there; they overflowed inevitably and quite naturally again
into the wider sphere of cathedral singing – if one may loosely apply such a term to
Festival singer.49
After the First World War there was a great resurgence of interest in music festivals, which
once again rose to be ‘one of the prime glories of musical life’ in England.50 Large numbers
of people flocked to participate in the English institution of choral singing by joining choral
societies and attending festivals. Silk developed a highly regarded reputation as a festival
singing during this time, as will be discussed in Chapter 4. Throughout her career she
regularly performed with a number of choral societies and festivals including those in
Birmingham, Leeds, Norfolk and Winchester (see Figure 3). Of the numerous festivals where
she made annual appearances, she performed at the Three Choirs Festival at Gloucester,
Worcester and Hereford every year between 1913 and 1934 (excluding the war years). After
45
Quoted in Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 24.
46
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 24.
47
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 25.
48
The majority of concert programmes are located in the Ibbs and Tillett Programme Folios, Ibbs &
Tillett Collection (ITC), RCML. For a full list of repertoire and artists see Appendix B3: Wednesday
Evening Concerts at Wigmore Hall, 1929–31.
49
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 25.
50
Anthony Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worcester – Three Choirs: A History of the Festival (Stroud:
Alan Sutton, 1992), 156.
35
Chapter One
one such appearance in 1926 at Worcester, William McNaught praised not only her ‘brilliant
singing’ but also declared that it was no ‘small wonder that festival committees send her an
annual summons’.51 Year after year she took part in the larger works performed in the
cathedral. During the first years, she sang soprano parts in the long-established performances
of Mendelssohn’s Elijah and Handel’s Messiah. However, unlike the other sopranos
discussed in this thesis, namely Elsie Suddaby and Isobel Baillie, Silk did not become known
as a performer of these more ‘straightforward oratorios’, particularly Messiah. Rather,
according to Campbell, festival organisers entrusted her with the performances of ‘more
complicated works’, including not only the larger works of Bach, but also Brahms’s Requiem
and works by English composers of her day such as Elgar’s The Kingdom, Vaughan
Williams’s Sea Symphony and Holst’s First Choral Symphony.52
Aside from her annual festival appearances and choral societies, she was a regular on the
London concert platform. She performed with the London Bach Choir every year between
1920 and 1934 and the Bach Cantata Club between 1926 and 1931. She also made regular
51
William McNaught, ‘The Three Choirs Festival. Worcester, September 5–10’, Musical Times 67, no.
1004 (1926): 928.
52
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 26.
53
‘Dorothy Silk’, promotional brochure for ‘City of Birmingham Orchestra, Season 1926–1927’,
English Provinces: Birmingham, Town Hall, 1920–1999 CH6Hd9, RCML.
36
Chapter One
appearances with the Royal Choral Society at the Albert Hall and Promenade Concerts at the
Queen’s Hall under the conductor Sir Henry Wood.
Silk’s prolific engagement with contemporary English music was not limited to festivals.
After the war, Silk became a favourite among the leading composers of the day. This fruitful
association was fostered before the war, when she won the admiration of music editor and
choral conductor William Gillies Whittaker (1876–1944) through her performances in
Newcastle.54 In 1916 Whittaker wrote to his longtime friend Gustav Holst (1874–1934). This
culminated in Silk becoming Holst’s ‘soprano of choice’, premiering and performing his solo
and choral works throughout London, the provinces and Paris. In 1921, a year after her Bach
Choir debut, she gave the London premiere of Holst’s chamber opera Savitri. This was
followed by premieres of the First Choral Symphony at the Leeds Triennial Festival in 1925,
the Twelve Humbert Wolfe Songs at Louise Hanson-Dyer’s Paris housewarming in 1929 and
the Choral Fantasia at the Three Choirs Festival, Gloucester in 1931. Holst’s preference was
widely known, with Campbell writing that Holst insisted on Silk for performances of his
opera Savitri and the Choral Symphony and ‘never willingly did he let anyone else sing her
parts’.55 However, Silk’s promotion of contemporary English music did not stop with Holst.
She also frequently premiered and performed works by Vaughan Williams (1872–1958),
Rutland Boughton (1878–1960), Armstrong Gibbs (1889–1960) and Herbert Howells (1892–
1983), who favoured her ‘pure’ and ‘light’ voice. Campbell wrote, for example, that for
Vaughan Williams her ‘pure notes’ at the conclusion of his Pastoral Symphony were
‘perfection’.56 Silk stated in 1922 that she felt an affinity with their compositions, which could
‘be compared to the old music in single-hearted feeling and freshness’.57
It was through Silk’s association with this generation of composers that she was given the
opportunity to perform in opera, taking the lead role in Holst’s Savitri and Boughton’s
Bethlehem. Her only other stage appearance was in 1928, where she performed the role of a
village maiden in a little-known Schubert opera called Der vierjährige Posten and arranged as
The Faithful Sentinel.58 These were to be her only forays into opera. Her success ultimately
54
Mary Christine Borthwick, ‘“In The Swim”: The Life and Musical Achievements of Williams Gilles
Whittaker 1876–1944’ (PhD thesis, University of Durham, 2007), 19.
55
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 28.
56
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 28.
57
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
58
This performance was part of a triple-bill that included Vaughan Williams’s Shepherds of the
Delectable Mountains and de Falla’s El retablo de maese Pedro. See, for example, C., ‘Opera at the
Court Theatre’, Musical Times 69, no. 1025 (1928): 648–49; and Ernest Newman, ‘The Week’s Music.
Presented at the Court’, Sunday Times, 17 June 1928, 7.
37
Chapter One
came from her performance of early and English music and her lifelong association with
choral societies and festivals.
As already suggested from the reviews mentioned, Silk’s most distinctive feature was her
voice. She was praised for possessing a ‘pure’, ‘light’ and ‘natural’ vocal quality, which was
considered to ideally suit the repertoire she performed. Typical comments included references
to ‘Silk’s pure and silvery soprano voice’,59 with critics declaring that ‘the singing of Miss
Dorothy Silk is of such pure and natural beauty that it stands as a thing apart to find criticism
and analysis’.60 Whether she was performing Bach or Holst, her ‘pure’ vocal characteristic
became her defining feature.
Unfortunately, there are no known surviving recordings of Silk. While she entered the His
Master’s Voice (here after HMV) recording studio during the 1920s, the recordings were
apparently not suitable for release. In 1927, a writer in Gramophone stated that ‘Dorothy Silk,
I understand, has been found unrecordable both under the old system and the electrical owing
to some vagary in her voice’.61 T. E. Goodbody, when looking back on the recordings of
Nellie Melba for Gramophone in 1924, explains that ‘the soprano voice has always given the
recording companies the most concern, and even still [sic] many voices are bad in recorded
form’. After ‘lamenting’ that Dorothy Silk had released no recordings due to the fact that
those made ‘were too bad for publication’, Goodbody looks to the future and declares there
was plenty of time and that the ‘Gramophonists’ might still get Dorothy Silk singing Bach.
Unfortunately this was not to be the case.62 The only evidence that recordings took place is
found in the HMV archive, which indicate that Silk was known to have made two test
recordings, both on 29 July 1922, accompanied by J. Brath.63 During this session they
recorded My lovely Celia by Lane Wilson and O ravishing delight by Arne.64 These test
recordings were never produced for commercial purposes. It is also possible Silk went into
the recording studio a number of other times over the course of her career but no recordings
were ever released. Nevertheless, the public would have had the opportunity to hear her on
59
By our own correspondents, ‘Music in the Provinces’, Musical Times 56, no. 869 (1915): 430.
60
‘Musical Notes, Miss Dorothy Silk’, Continental Weekly, 21 April 1928, 230.
61
‘Notes and Queries’, Gramophone 4, no. 10 (1927): 433.
62
T. E. Goodbody, ‘Gramophone Celebrities III – Dame Melba’, Gramophone 1 (1924): 196–7.
63
‘Dorothy Silk’, AHRC Research Centre for the History and Analysis of Recorded Music,
http://www.charm.rhul.ac.uk/discography/search/search_simple# (accessed 17 December 2016).
64
Alan Kelly has collected this information from the ledgers of the Gramophone Company (trademark
HMV; from 1931 part of EMI). See Alan Kelly, ‘Structure of the Gramophone Company and its
Output, HMV and Zonophone 1898–1954’, AHRC Research Centre for the History and Analysis of
Recorded Music (September 2000) http://charm.cch.kcl.ac.uk/redist/pdf/general_introduction.pdf
(accessed 17 December 2016).
38
Chapter One
the wireless. Silk participated in over 100 broadcasts between 1924 and 1937. The majority of
these were taken from town hall concerts across Britain, as well as Promenade Concerts from
the Queen’s Hall with the BBC Orchestra conducted by Henry Wood between 1927 and 1932.
She also made a considerable number of broadcasts of Bach cantatas and English songs from
the Elizabethans through to composers of her day.65
By the early 1920s Silk had achieved considerable fame. She was frequently proclaimed to
be at the ‘front rank of British vocalists’ and was even ‘nominated for the Hall of Fame’ for
her ‘beautiful voice; …exquisite music tastes; …genius for excavating old songs of
extraordinary beauty; and because there is no English singer alive whose concerts are so
uniformly delightful’.66 She was in great demand as a soloist, maintaining an incredibly busy
schedule that had her traveling across Britain, often performing six concerts in one week. The
extent to which Silk was preferred amongst other sopranos of day is captured during a short
trip to Switzerland. In 1928 Silk travelled to Holland to perform the soprano solos in Handel’s
Messiah. The Rotterdam Telegraaf declared that ‘of the artists, the soprano Miss Dorothy Silk
was the best, a beautiful voice of unusual timbre, and a great musician, which proved her to
be a first-class artist’.67 Silk decided to stay on for a holiday. This was cut short, however,
when a telegram from England requested her urgent return to London to take on an
engagement that apparently ‘no other soprano could…fill’.68
The last phase of Silk’s active life as a singer was utterly different from anything that had
gone before. In 1932, Cuthbert Kelly, director of the English Singers, suggested she join their
newly reformed group as the first soprano. Just as ‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music’
had brought forgotten repertoires from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries to the wider
English public, the formation of the English Singers in 1920 played a significant role in
cultivating broader interest in Elizabethan music during this period. Little has been written
about the English Singers’ contribution to the revival of early music. Short histories and
anecdotal stories can be found in newspapers and memoirs, the most informative being an
article written by the tenor Steuart Wilson (1889–1966), published in Recorded Sound in
65
Information has been collated from the BBC Genome Project, which contains the BBC listings
information printed in Radio Times between 1923 and 2009. While this does not take into account
programme changes or cancellations, it does provide an overview of repertoire and artists.
http://genome.ch.bbc.co.uk (accessed 10 November 2014).
66
‘Soloists at Dundee Choral Union, Miss Dorothy Silk’, Evening Telegraph (Dundee), 27 January
1925, 6; and ‘We nominate for the Hall of Fame’, n.d., press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
67
‘Dorothy Silk’, Bulletin (1929): 31, press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML
68
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, 9.
39
Chapter One
October 1965 and retold in the English Singer: The Life of Steuart Wilson, by his third wife,
Margaret Stewart.
Cuthbert Kelly, a man Wilson described as a ‘remarkable’ musician, founded the group
during the First World War. He was a civil servant who spent his spare time doing social
work in Bethnal Green. During the war, Kelly organised a series of Saturday afternoon
concerts in St Martin-in-the-Fields. These concerts were celebrated for keeping ‘the flame of
music alive in wartime London’ in much the same way as Myra Hess’s National Gallery
Concerts ‘thrilled a different generation of war workers’ twenty years later. It was from these
Kelly concerts that the English Singers originated.69
With the conclusion of the war, the group began to perform more widely. The first concert
took place on 13 December 1919 and comprised a group of four singers: soprano Flora Mann,
contralto Lillian Berger, tenor Steuart Wilson and bass Cuthbert Kelly. The programme
included Palestrina, motets by Morley and Redford, an anthem by Parry and a Bach chorale.
The vocal items were divided by Schubert’s A minor string quartet. A note in the programme
recorded that Kelly ‘hoped that many people besides the members of this congregation may
find in these performances of music recreation of a kind that is needed in these restless
days’.70 Shortly after this first concert, Wilson suggested the group be augmented to six so
that their repertoire could be expanded to include the English madrigals, which had recently
been brought to greater prominence by Edmund Fellowes’s publication of the English
Madrigal School series, along with other editions mentioned in the previous chapter. The
group heeded his suggestion and the ranks were expanded to include baritone Clive Carey
(1883–1968) and soprano Winifred Whelen (see Figure 4).
The group was fortunate to have a particular relationship with both Fellowes and Edward
J. Dent (1876–1957). Fellowes, who can justifiably be regarded as having revived the English
madrigal through his editions, placed both his published editions and manuscripts at the
group’s disposal. Dent, a musicologist, critic and composer, advised on general programming
as well as providing copies of and information about Italian madrigals from the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries.71 The group gave its first concert at Aeolian Hall to ‘a crowded and
enthusiastic audience’ on 28 February 1920. They had no name and were simply billed as
individual singers, giving a concert of ‘canzonets, madrigals and other English music by
69
Margaret Stewart, English Singer: The Life of Steuart Wilson (London: Gerald Duckworth & Co.,
1968), 65. See, also, Angell, ‘Art Music in British Public Discourse During the First World War’.
70
Quoted in Stewart, English Singer, 65.
71
Stewart, English Singer, 66.
40
Chapter One
It was the first occasion upon which in modern times madrigals were properly
interpreted on a concert platform, and it was the first appearance in public of The
English Singers, though it was not till later in the year that they took that title. The
audience was entranced. Here was something quite new to an English audience and
they rose to it.73
Dr Percy Buck, whose lectures on madrigals at the Royal Institution were illustrated by the
group, wrote: ‘the madrigal singing of the English Singers is not only the best I have ever
heard—it is truly better than any I ever expected to hear in my life’.74 And Fellowes later
wrote: ‘it may be doubted whether madrigals have been sung with such finish and such telling
effect as that produced by the English Singers since the period in which the madrigal
composers lived’.75
Figure 4: The English Singers, 1920. Left to right: Cuthbert Kelly, Clive Carey, Steuart
Wilson, Flora Mann, Lillian Berger and Winifred Whelen.76
The English Singers went on to achieve phenomenal success in multiple parts of the
world, particularly in the United States. Their concerts also did much to popularise Fellowes’s
72
Stewart, English Singer, 66.
73
Edmund H. Fellowes, Memoirs of an Amateur Musician (London: Methuen, 1946), 125.
74
Quoted in Stewart, English Singer, 67.
75
Quoted in Stewart, English Singer, 67.
76
Steuart Wilson, ‘The English Singer’, Recorded Sound 20 (1965): 375–81.
41
Chapter One
editions, of which, as Wilson asserts, they were given open use.77 Their tours to Germany in
the first few years of the 1920s received particular attention in the press. Dent’s appraisal in
The Nation and The Athenaeum on 17 March 1923 gives great insight not only into the
group’s musical approach but also the performance history of the madrigal tradition in
England:
Fellowes and the English Singers have shown Germany, if they have not yet
convinced England, that such beauty as this comes not from inspiration, but from
scholarship. When the English Singers gave a concert in Berlin a year ago the
German critics imagined that their finished and individual style of interpreting
English madrigals was the fruit of centuries of carefully preserved traditions…
Their style is the fruit not of tradition, but of scholarship, of historical erudition,
supplied as everyone knows, by Dr. Fellowes, and of common sense supplied by
themselves.78
That being said, not every aspect of their approach was rooted in ‘historical erudition’ as Dent
had proclaimed. The group’s habit of singing seated round a table, which Wilson had
originally suggested derived from the practice of Elizabethan days, was in fact influenced by
convenience rather than research. He wrote:
We decided not to attempt to sing without music. In the first place it was not yet the
fashion on the concert platform, except for song recitals with piano; never in
oratorio and often not in orchestral concerts. What should we do with out music if
we had to hold it? Should we use music stands or should we sit like a string quartet?
We decided to have music stands to hold the music, but to stand behind them in a
semi-circle. Soon this became increasingly cumbersome and the climax was reached
when I attempted to go by bus to a concert in Red Lion Square carrying a bag of
music and six music stands which soon became involved with every other passenger
causing much loss of ‘face’ to me and to several others’ loss of hats and paper bags.
I decided it would be easier to sit, as in fact we rehearsed, round a table and without
waiting for chapter and verse, I announced that it was the Elizabethan custom and
from henceforward it was so. Our lives were easier, and Morley’s ‘Plain and Easy’
justified us.79
Despite some less historical habits, the group’s repertoire and approach to madrigal singing
influenced similar groups that appeared in the years that followed, such as the Tudor Singers,
77
Stewart, English Singer, 66.
78
Quoted in Fellowes, Memoirs, 125.
79
Stewart, English Singer, 67.
42
Chapter One
who formed in 1923.80 The growing popularity of the English Singers also coincided with the
1923 Festival celebrating the Tercentenary of Byrd’s death. The Musical Times ‘apologized to
its readers that the sheer number of events made it impossible to note, let alone review all of
them. That year, the English Singers recorded five discs of Byrd’s music. With one voice per
part, their recordings are praised for a clarity lacking in most choral recordings of the
period.81 The early years of the 1920s have been characterised as a period of ‘Elizabethan
fever’ into which the English Singers played a significant role.
Silk was not only familiar with the group but performed regularly with its members during
the 1920s. Wilson commonly took the Evangelist in the Mass in B minor, with Silk
performing as soprano soloist, and Clive Carey was a guest performer in the first series of her
‘Concerts of Old Music’ and sang lead roles in both Holst’s Savitri and Boughton’s
Bethlehem. The English Singers also participated in both seasons three and five of Silk’s
concert series. They filled the programme with English madrigals and sang the Bach chorales
in her selected cantatas.82 Campbell explains that their ‘unique and vital singing of madrigals
and other small works for concerted voices fitted most admirably into [Dorothy Silk’s
Concert of Old Music] and gave lightness and variation to the programmes’.83 Over the
course of the 1920s there were minor personnel changes to the group. Towards the end of the
decade the increase in such changes resulted in the group disbanding for a short period.
In 1932 the reformed group, now known as the New English Singers, made their
comeback at a concert at Queen’s Hall on 5 October, with Silk as a permanent member (see
Figure 5).84 Campbell wrote that Silk had always been ‘par excellence as a solo singer’ and
this new venture required a lot of consideration ‘for it meant in effect completely
relinquishing her solo work’.85 While some critics were surprised by this decision, McNaught
wrote in his review of this concert published in the Musical Times, that he knew of no other
soloist who possessed the musicianship and temperament to seamlessly fit into a madrigal
group.86
80
Tudor Singers 1934 season, promotional pamphlet, Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC, RCML.
81
Haskell, Early Music Revival: A History, 37.
82
See ‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes from the third series (1922–23),
Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection, CH6Da9, RCML; and ‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of
Old Music’, concert programmes from the fifth series (1925), Wigmore Hall, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
83
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 29.
84
William McNaught, ‘London Concerts: The New English Singers’, Musical Times 73, no. 1077
(1932): 1035.
85
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 30.
86
McNaught, ‘London Concerts: The New English Singers’, Musical Times 73, no. 1077 (1932): 1035.
43
Chapter One
Figure 5: The New English Singers, 1936. Left to right: Mary Morris, Eric Greene,
Peter Pears, Dorothy Silk, Cuthbert Kelly and Nellie Carson.87
What prompted Silk to make this move is hard to say. We know from Campbell that by the
early 1930s her health was declining, and letters from Gustav Holst’s assistant, the pianist
Vally Lasker (1885–1978), to Silk’s long-time friend Mrs Clive confirm this.88 It is likely that
joining the New English Singers allowed her to continue singing without the pressure of
being a soloist or the organisational responsibilities associated with managing her career. And
while, as Campbell suggests, the move to madrigal singer contrasted significantly to her
previous work as a soloist, Silk and the English Singers shared similar interests in early
repertoire and performance style.
The repertoire the New English Singers performed during the 1930s consisted of
madrigals and concerted vocal repertoire from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and
also new works by contemporary English composers.89 While this music was closely aligned
with the repertoire that had secured her fame, it also provided her with the challenge of
schooling herself to a new singing style. Kelly explained that:
There is far more in combined singing than the mere sinking of the personality in
the total effort that is a sine qua non—after that comes endless discipline regarding
vowel sounds, word terminations, idiosyncrasies of phrasing, all of which may be
87
Peter Pears, The Travel Diaries of Peter Pears: 1936–1978 (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 1995),
between pages 114 and 115.
88
Letter from Vally Lasker to Mrs Horace Clive, 13 April 1934, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
89
See Table B2.27–29 from Appendix B2: Dorothy Silk’s Recital Programmes, 1912–40.
44
Chapter One
perfectly correct and permissible in a solo performance, but if they are not exactly
matched with those of the other singers the effect is marred and imperfect.90
Campbell wrote that it was hard to name another soprano ‘who with such a long and
successful career behind her, could with such equal success have turned her mind and
attention to a completely new art-form and mastered it’.91
Although Silk had had a prolific career as a soloist, she had seldom sung anywhere outside
England. In joining the New English Singers she had the opportunity to tour internationally.
Her first appearance with them was in Spain; a concert had been officially organised for the
opening of the new University at Madrid. Campbell wrote that ‘in true Spanish fashion the
actual university was only partially built, but the concert was given nevertheless’ and the
Singers were invited to return two years later to give another concert when the building was
complete. She also toured the United States of America and Canada three times. She found
the travel ‘delightful’ and often far more comfortable than the many ‘tedious and difficult’
journeys she had made across Britain.92
In 1936, even though, as Campbell writes, ‘her health was gradually worsening’, the New
English Singers toured Europe. Campbell beautifully captures the impact this tour had on
Silk:
Although Silk did not relinquish all her solo work and continued to make appearances with
the London Bach Choir and festivals, though at a reduced level, joining the New English
Singers appears to have extended her active singing life by ten years and she was able to do
work that she loved with likeminded people.94
90
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 30.
91
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 30.
92
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 30.
93
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 31.
94
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 30; and Pears, The Travel Diaries of Peter Pears, 1.
45
Chapter One
While Silk appears to have maintained a strong level of control over her career, she naturally
secured artistic representation. During her time in London before the First World War, she
was on the books of both the Imperial Concert Agency and Ibbs and Tillett. The Imperial
Concert Agency had been established in 1905 and did not have exclusive artists. In fact, it
appears, especially in the years before the war, to have focused on young, new talent.95
During the early 1910s she also successfully auditioned for the most significant artist agency
of the twentieth century, Ibbs and Tillett. Christopher Fifield’s book on the agency, Ibbs and
Tillett: The Rise of Fall of a Musical Empire, provides an excellent overview of British
musical life during the interwar years. He explains that for the greater part of the twentieth
century Ibbs and Tillett was to ‘the British music industry what Marks and Spencer is to the
world of department stores’.96 Its representation of famous musicians was unmatched, and
included such international stars as Clara Butt, Fritz Kreisler, Pablo Casals, Sergei
Rachmaninov, Kathleen Ferrier, Myra Hess, Jacqueline du Pre, Julian Lloyd Webber, Clifford
Curzon and Vladimir Ashkenazy, to name but a handful.97 Silk first appeared in the 1911–12
Artists’ Brochures, but she was not to become one of the agency’s ‘sole representatives’ until
1923.98
Silk’s valued position within the agency is highlighted through her twelve-year (1921–32)
presence in their seasonal brochure ‘Of Special Interest to Chamber Music Societies’. This
brochure was in effect a summary of the agency’s best sellers, or as Fifield describes them,
‘the crème de la crème of their artists’ and was targeted at non-orchestral hirers.99 Silk’s
consistent presence on this list is a clear indication of her appeal to the English public.100 Silk
remained with Ibbs and Tillett for the rest of her career, as they also represented the New
English Singers.
PERSONALITY
Campbell asserts that, given Silk’s overwhelming success during the 1920s and ’30s, it came
as a surprise to those who did not know her personally that she was not known further afield
and that the memory of her faded so quickly. Those who did know her—‘that intensely
loveable and complex soul’—knew that she never wished to be a star and it was only by
95
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 301.
96
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 1.
97
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 1.
98
See Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, ‘Appendix 2 and 3’.
99
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 197.
100
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 197.
46
Chapter One
‘mischance’ that she found herself a public figure.101 As briefly mentioned above, Silk was
described by her friends as possessing a ‘sensitive temperament’ and she appears to have
suffered from anxiety, an affliction that affected every aspect of her life except those short
periods when she was on stage. Campbell devotes a large portion of his ‘Memoir’ to ‘lifting
the curtain and looking behind the scenes’ at the ‘many complexes and difficulties which
make her character so interesting and varied, and her personality so attractive to those who
knew her well…and at the same time misleading to those who didn’t’.102 While he clearly
states that she was a naturally ‘sensitive soul’, he attributes a large portion of her anxiety to
her ‘narrow’ and ‘scanty’ education. While this was not an uncommon feature of female
education during the 1890s—it was generally of a low standard and social accomplishments
were valued above ‘high scholastic attainments’—Silk consistently feared her ignorance
would be ‘found out’, which in turn prevented her from entering easily into conversations.103
While for a confident nature this would present little difficulty, Campbell writes that for
Dorothy, it ‘amounted to an egotistical fault’.104 Her anxiety did not, however, affect her
musicianship or the impression made on composers and conductors who came to be ‘her
greatest admirers’.105 It was also not apparent to her audience. Geoffrey Carter, Silk’s throat
specialist, explained that ‘I never knew anyone to be such a quaking mess of nerves before
she had a concert and yet so completely up to scratch when the moment came to sing’.106
Critics and the public instead celebrated her humble and modest disposition, which they
viewed as particularly appropriate for the music she performed. Despite her constant anxiety,
Campbell explains that ‘music was her life’ and that no other path would have satisfied her
completely. This can be seen, for instance, through her decision not to marry. Although she
became engaged early in her career to a distant cousin who was on leave from Rhodesia, ‘he
had little love or understanding of music’.107 In marrying she would have had to give up her
career to make a life in Rhodesia. She chose music.
In response to Silk’s death on 30 July 1942, the Musical Times stated that throughout her
career she cultivated amongst English audiences ‘a taste for music of the sixteenth to early
eighteenth century’, that she was ‘the unrivalled Bach singer of her day’ and held a ‘position
in English music that has not been quite paralleled’.108 Nearly three years after her death, on
11 July 1945, her friends gathered at the Royal College Music to mark her passing. The New
101
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 3.
102
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Final, 1.
103
See Gillett, Musical Women in England, 26.
104
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Final, 1.
105
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Final, 1.
106
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 19.
107
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Final, 5.
108
‘Obituary’, Musical Times 83, no. 1196 (1942): 319.
47
Chapter One
English Singers performed Morley’s Hark; Alleluia cheerly and a wooden plaque with her
name, dates and a musical stave containing the first phrase of Bach’s aria ‘My Heart Ever
Faithful’ was installed in Room 63 where she had previously taught.109 Yet, in spite of Silk’s
success, her achievements have been mostly forgotten. One of the contributing factors is her
lack of recordings, as the absence of tangible memory of her sound has resulted in her
contribution fading from one generation to the next. That being said, the public’s appreciation
of the works she revived continued to grow, fostered in part by the growing number of
English sopranos who emerged during the 1920s and ’30s who were similarly recognised for
their performances of early and new music.
109
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, End, 1.
48
CHAPTER TWO
ELSIE SUDDABY (1893–1980) AND ISOBEL
BAILLIE (1895–1982)
Dorothy Silk was not the only English soprano to emerge after the First World War and find
success performing a unique blend of early and modern recital and festival repertoire. Other
sopranos included Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980), Isobel Baillie (1895–1982), Dora Labbette
(1898–1984), Lillian Stiles-Allen (1890–1982), Margaret (Mabel) Ritchie (1903–69), Joan
Elwes, and Margaret Field–Hyde (1905–95), to name only the most prominent. In order to
understand why these sopranos were drawn to performing both early and modern music, it is
beneficial to examine two careers more closely. Of the sopranos mentioned above, Elsie
Suddaby and Isobel Baillie achieved the greatest success. They were born ten years after Silk,
and their careers were established shortly after hers. Unlike Silk, however, Suddaby and
Baillie’s contribution to English music has not been completely forgotten. This chapter will,
therefore, only provide an abridged survey of their life and career, focusing on the principal
themes of family background, education, repertoire and recordings. By gaining a deeper
understanding of their career trajectories, this chapter not only further contextualises the
career of Silk but assists in positioning this generation of sopranos within English musical life
during the 1920s and ’30s.
49
Chapter Two
Elsie Emma Suddaby was born in Wortley, Leeds, on 5 January 1893. Her father, William
Ford Suddaby originated from Dalton in East Yorkshire. He moved to Leeds in the late 1880s
and established a successful chain of furniture shops.3 William Suddaby (1861–1943) married
Margaret Oriel Briggs (1867–1941), ‘a Leeds lass’, in 1892. They had five children of which
Elsie was the eldest.4 Suddaby was fortunate to grow up in a secure middle-class family
which appeared to value education. She attended Leeds Girls’ Modern School, now known as
Lawnswood High School, and was encouraged in her musical pursuits from an early age,
receiving her first piano lessons from her mother at age seven.5
MUSICAL INSTRUCTION
Her instruction in piano was continued with the Armley musician Harry H. Pickard (1864–
1936).6 Under his guidance, she won the gold medal of the Associated Board for her piano
playing in 1911.7 By this time Suddaby had finished school and her musical talent was
considered to lie with the piano, with Martin Monkman describing her as an ‘outstanding
pianist’.8 She performed regularly in small concerts and taught piano from the front room of
her family home. Another of her piano tutors at this time was Thomas J. Hoggett (1864–
1946), then Lecturer in Music at Leeds University, who, along with H. A. Ficker, chorus
1
‘Miss Elsie Suddaby’, The Times, 1 May 1980, 18.
2
Richard Baker, ‘Appreciations of Elsie Suddaby’s Life and Work by Francis Jackson, Martin Ellwood
and Richard Baker’, liner notes to Elsie Suddaby Soprano: The Lass with the Delicate Air Recorded
1924–1952 (Amphion PHI CD 134, 1995), 9. The English broadcaster Richard Baker (b.1925) is best
known as a newsreader for BBC News (1954–1982). He was, however, closely associated with
classical music and presented a number of programmes both on television and radio including the Last
Night of the Proms.
3
Martin Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980): A Short Biography’, liner notes to Elsie Suddaby
Soprano: The Lass with the Delicate Air Recorded 1924–1952 (Amphion PHI CD 134, 1995), 13.
4
Elsie Suddaby’s siblings: Mabel Gladys Suddaby (1894–1974), Sarah Florence Suddaby (1899–
1956), Muriel Margaret Suddaby (1904–1994) and William Driver Suddaby (1907–1987).
5
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 13.
6
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 13. Harry H. Pickard was director of the Armley Choral
Society and local organist.
7
‘Local Examinations in Music’, The Times, 14 January 1911, 6.
8
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 13.
50
Chapter Two
master of the Leeds Philharmonic Society and Town Hall Organist, and the music critic and
educator Percy Scholes (1877–1958), established the Leeds Municipal Music School in 1908.
It is possible that the school, which offered an all-round music education to those who needed
it as well as scholarships to those who could not afford the fees, facilitated Suddaby’s piano
instruction from Hoggett.9 With the change of city council to a Conservative majority in 1909,
however, financial support to municipal concerts and institutions in Leeds ceased and within a
few years the School was forced to close.10 Although the school was short-lived, Ernest
Bullock (1980–1979), who at the time was the assistant organist at Leeds Parish Church,
recalled that ‘a great deal of first rate work was done, and much enthusiasm created for the
advancement of serious music-making’ in Leeds.11
Hoggett heard Suddaby sing during one of her piano lessons in 1911 and immediately
suggested vocal study with Edward Bairstow (1874–1946). Bairstow was considered one of
the nation’s leading musical figures and was known not only as a teacher but also a
conductor, composer and organist. For much of the twentieth century, Bairstow had a strong
connection with Leeds. After serving as organist of All Saints, Norfolk Square, and Wigan
Parish Church he was appointed to Leeds Parish Church in 1907. Later that year, he became
organist of the Leeds Festival and in 1917 was made conductor of the Leeds Philharmonic
Society, a position he held until his death. In 1913 he was appointed organist at York Minster,
and from then until 1939 he directed the York Musical Society. In 1929 he was appointed
Professor of Music at Durham and he was knighted in 1932.12 An accomplished performer
and accompanist, he was also in frequent demand as a lecturer, guest speaker and adjudicator.
Above all, he was recognised as a great teacher. Looking back on the life of Bairstow,
Bullock wrote that ‘not many teachers can be cited who have assisted the developmental
advancement of music by having so many pupils of distinction in so many varying branches
of the art’.13 This is clearly evidenced by the number of his pupils who later became well
known within English musical life, including singers Elsie Suddaby, George Parker, Etty
Ferguson and Stephen Manton; organists and choir masters Gordon Slater, George Gray,
Lionel Dakers and Francis Jackson; and the composer Gerald Finzi.14
9
Francis Jackson, Blessed City: The Life and Works of Edward C. Bairstow, 2nd ed. (York: William
Sessions Ltd., 1997), 71.
10
Robert Demaine, ‘Individual and Institution in the Musical Life of Leeds 1900–1914’ (PhD thesis,
University of York, 2000), 151.
11
Ernest Bullock, ‘Introduction’, Blessed City, 5.
12
Francis Jackson, ‘Sir Edward C. Bairstow’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 6 April 2015).
13
Bullock, ‘Introduction’, Blessed City, 3.
14
Bullock, ‘Introduction’, Blessed City, 3.
51
Chapter Two
While there is no evidence that Suddaby received a scholarship for piano, she went to
Bairstow for lessons on an assisted scholarship from the School.15 Francis Jackson, who
completed Bairstow’s autobiography Blessed City: The Life and Works of Edward C.
Bairstow and was also Suddaby’s second cousin once removed, explained that those who
knew him as a teacher were ‘afraid’ and prospective students, such as Suddaby, were warned
to ‘know your work if you go to him’.16 In the short biography of Suddaby’s life
accompanying Amphion’s release of her collected recordings in 1995, Monkman recalls the
story of her first lesson with Bairstow:
On the day of her first lesson, Elsie arrived a few minutes early. She was sitting
waiting for her first lesson with the great man, when all of a sudden, the door to his
teaching room flew open and out dashed a young lady in tears, with Dr Bairstow
uttering some uncomplimentary comments about this poor girl’s musical talent.
Then a few seconds later, propelled at high velocity, out followed the pupil’s
music.17
Despite this highly charged first encounter, Bairstow and Suddaby came to respect and
admire each other and within a short period of time Suddaby changed musical direction from
piano to singing. Her proficiency in piano enabled her to master repertoire quickly and was
often attributed to her accurate musicianship.18 That is not to say, however, that Suddaby did
not have to work hard at her voice. Bairstow highlights in his autobiography that she
overcame significant technical difficulties due to an excellent work ethic that served her well
all her life. He wrote affectionately that
Elsie was a grand girl. She was an excellent pianist and could read splendidly, both
on the piano and vocal music. She had a wonderful spirit, worked harder than
anyone, and would never give in. She had much difficulty with the voice in the early
days, and with her breathing. The very things which she does with such perfection
of art now—soft, very tender high notes, long-drawn-out phrases with no apparent
effort—all these presented great difficulties then and for quite a long time to come.
So be encouraged, you neophytes with similar troubles!19
Jackson appears to have interviewed his cousin Suddaby while preparing Bairstow’s
autobiography. While there is no explicit reference to such an interview, he writes that
15
‘Listings. Recital Elsie Suddaby (soprano) C. H. Trevor (organ)’, Radio Times 51, no. 664 (1936):
60.
16
Jackson, Blessed City, 118.
17
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1890)’, 13–14.
18
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1890)’, 14.
19
Bairstow quoted in Jackson, Blessed City, 71.
52
Chapter Two
Suddaby was quick to acknowledge the important role Bairstow played in the development of
both her vocal technique and artistry, stating ‘I was grateful to him for setting a high standard
of work and understanding of the poetic word, which enabled me to use the technique [sic]
and sing for fifty years’. She also recalled that he forced her to be an extrovert and ‘not
apologise to [her] audience’, a lesson she found useful throughout her career.20
It is also evident that Bairstow’s position and connections to the wider English musical
establishment aided Suddaby’s career. It is likely that he secured for her an audition with the
artist agency Ibbs and Tillett. When discussing the career of Suddaby, Fifield writes that
‘Bairstow’s recommendations were always taken seriously…and often led to the start of a
20
Elsie Suddaby quoted in Jackson, Blessed City, 118.
21
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’: 229.
22
See, for example, By Our Own Correspondents, ‘Music in the Provinces’ Musical Times 53, no. 829
(1912): 189; By Our Own Correspondents, ‘Music in the Provinces’ Musical Times 55, no. 854 (1914):
267; By Our Own Correspondents, ‘Music in the Provinces’ Musical Times 58, no. 890 (1917): 183.
23
‘Dr E. C. Bairstow’s Hill Lecture’, Hull Daily Mail, 7 October 1918, 4.
53
Chapter Two
career’.24 The Ibbs and Tillett audition records document that on 9 May 1917 Bairstow
‘accompanied his protégé Elsie Suddaby’. She performed the soprano solo from Brahms’s
Requiem and a song by Parry. They commented that she had an ‘excellent voice, good style,
[and we] think most highly of her’.25 Suddaby was to remain under the representation of Ibbs
and Tillett until her retirement (see Figure 6).
FESTIVAL REPERTOIRE
The turning point in Suddaby’s career occurred with her first performance at the Leeds
Triennial Festival in October 1922.27 While she was well known in Leeds, her participation in
this festival earned her a wider reputation as a soprano. Herbert Thompson reviewed the
festival for the Musical Times and praised her performance in Bach’s Magnificat, writing that
Suddaby is ‘a Leeds singer whose fame is rapidly extending beyond its borders’ and that she
24
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 199.
25
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 104. Unfortunately, further information regarding Suddaby’s or, for that
matter, Silk’s and Baillie’s representation by Ibbs and Tillett not included in the book is not available
for study. Large portions of Ibbs and Tillett’s records were disposed of, and what remains is held in the
Museum of Music History awaiting cataloguing. These records presumably show artist fees,
correspondence, etc. The Museum of Music History is not open to the public and most records are help
in storage. See Museum and Music History, http://www.momh.org.uk/index.php (accessed 21 October
2017).
26
‘Elsie Suddaby’, in The Suddaby Family, http://www.suddabys.co.uk/wp-
content/uploads/2015/06/2010930_779393495.jpg (accessed 18 December 2016).
27
‘Miss Elsie Suddaby’, The Times, 1 May 1980, 18.
54
Chapter Two
made ‘a worthy colleague’ to Dorothy Silk and contralto Margaret Balfour (1982–1961).28
Suddaby’s reputation as a soprano was further secured through an appearance the following
year at the Three Choirs Festival, held at Worcester. Thompson, once again the reviewer,
commended Suddaby’s festival debut, writing that she ‘sang on five different occasions, and
in all kinds of music, giving striking proof of her versatility and musical intelligence’.29 From
this time Suddaby’s name came to be closely associated with festival singing. Not only did
she perform 26 times at the Three Choirs between 1923 and 1951, but she also made regular
festival appearances at Norfolk, Tewkesbury, Harrogate, Birmingham and Leeds.
Suddaby also spent a large portion of the year touring Britain performing with local choral
societies. Monkman writes that she frequently journeyed to Wales to sing concerts both to and
with the Welsh miners, and ‘she never ceased to marvel that after a day hard working down
the pit they could find it in themselves to stand up and sing so magnificently’.30 Aside from
provincial singing, she was a regular soloist with the London Bach Choir, Bach Cantata Club
and Promenade Concerts at Queen’s Hall and later the Albert Hall. The repertoire she sang
remained consistent all her life: songs by the Elizabethans and English Baroque composers,
and new works by the composers of the day, and early music encompassing the larger works
of Bach and Handel.
Suddaby was particularly known for her performances of Messiah. William McNaught
declared in 1926 that ‘nobody could “Rejoice greatly” with a more nimble persuading. She
provokes us to think, without reproach, that Gilbert and Sullivan suffered a loss when Miss
Suddaby decided for higher things’.31 Monkman writes that ‘she was often to be heard, all
over the country, singing the Messiah, more often than not with her good friend the contralto
Muriel Brunskill (1899–1980)’.32 In her unpublished autobiography, Brunskill recalled she
had ‘done more concert work with [Suddaby] than any other soprano’.33 Her performances of
Messiah alone totalled over 300, only to be rivalled by her performances of Bach’s St
Matthew Passion, which Herman Klein wrote she delivered with ‘calm, pure, religious
expression, phrased in the authentic manner and replete with quiet charm’.34 Conductors and
the public clearly admired her performance of this work; she sang in over 30 performances of
the St Matthew Passion at the Royal Albert Hall on Passion Sundays. After Silk reduced her
28
Herbert Thompson, ‘The Leeds Musical Festival’, Musical Times 63, no. 957 (1922): 798.
29
Herbert Thompson, ‘The Worcester Festival’, Musical Times 64, no. 986 (1923): 717.
30
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 18.
31
William McNaught, ‘The Three Choirs Festival Worcester, September 5–10’, Musical Times 67, no.
1004 (1926): 928.
32
Suddaby was godmother to Brunskill’s son Desmond.
33
Quoted in Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 17.
34
Herman Klein, ‘Operatic and Foreign Songs’, Gramophone 7, no. 78 (1929): 246.
55
Chapter Two
number of solo engagements in the 1930s, Bach’s Mass in B minor also became a staple of
Suddaby’s repertoire.35
While she was first and foremost known for her performances of Messiah and Bach’s larger
choral works, her repertoire also included other festival favourites such as Mendelssohn’s
Elijah and Brahms’s Requiem. Suddaby also came to be closely associated with contemporary
English repertoire. She regularly performed Elgar’s oratorios at festivals and gave many first
performances of new English compositions, including Finzi’s Dies Natalis, Ethel Smyth’s
The Prison and songs by Walford Davies, Plunket Green and Bairstow. Suddaby was also one
of the original 16 soloists in Vaughan Williams’s Serenade to Music, written for Sir Henry
Wood’s jubilee at the Royal Albert Hall in 1938. The other soloists were made up of leading
English singers of the day and included: sopranos, Isobel Baillie, Lillian Stiles-Allen and Eva
Turner; contraltos, Muriel Brunskill, Astra Desmond, Mary Jarred and Margaret Balfour;
tenors, Heddle Nash, Frank Titterton, Walter Widdop and Parry Jones; baritones, Harold
Williams and Roy Henderson; and basses, Robert Easton and Norman Allin. Suddaby also
appeared in a substantial number of the annual performances of The Songs of Hiawatha, a
trilogy of cantatas by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, at the Albert Hall from 1924 to 1939.
Presented with scenery, costumes and dancing, it was one of the most popular works at the
time. While not classified an opera, the work shared many similarities in story, content and
casting with Boughton’s Bethlehem and Holst’s Savitri.
Of the composers active during this period, Suddaby had a particular association with
Gerald Finzi (1901–56). Both had studied under Bairstow and Finzi identified Suddaby’s
performance of the song ‘Sleep’ from Ivor Gurney’s Five Elizabethan Songs accompanied by
Edward Bairstow in 1920 as igniting his inspiration to ‘discover the poems of Gurney from
every possible source’.36 She regularly performed Finzi’s songs in recital and premiered Dies
Natalis, a cantata for soprano and orchestra, on 11 June 1940 at Wigmore Hall; it became
increasingly popular after a successful performance at the Three Choirs Festival in 1946.
While the cantata was not originally written for Suddaby, but rather for Sophie Wyss (1897–
1983), it came to be associated with her name and voice.
EARLY MUSIC
The intersection between Suddaby’s performances of early and new English music is
particularly evident through her recital programming, where she made a successful name for
35
Martin Ellwood, ‘Appreciations of Elsie Suddaby’s Life and Work’, 8.
36
Martin Ellwood, ‘Appreciations of Elsie Suddaby’s Life and Work’, 8. See, also Dianne McVeagh,
Gerald Finzi: His Life and Music (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2005), 20.
56
Chapter Two
herself as an exponent of English songs ranging from the Elizabethans through to the present.
The English repertoire she programmed typically included: a selection of songs by Purcell
such as ‘Nymphs and Shepherds’, ‘Hark the Echoing Air’ and ‘Evening Hymn’; Keel’s
arrangements of Elizabethan Love Songs; and a range of songs by contemporary composers,
namely Parry, Stanford, Vaughan Williams and Finzi. She also typically included a range of
Bach arias in her recital programmes.
In addition to performing all over the country, Suddaby took full advantage of both
broadcasting and recording technology; the lasting impact this had on her career cannot be
overstated. In 1924, at the time when Suddaby was establishing herself as a leading English
singer, she signed a recording contract with the Gramophone Company. Her first recordings
were released later that year and were produced using the old acoustic system. The record
included two works by Henry Purcell: ‘When I am Laid in Earth’ from Dido and Aeneas and
‘Hark the Echoing Air’. After their release a Gramophone critic stated that her recordings
were the ‘pick of the month’ and that she had made a ‘highly successful’ gramophone debut.37
With the introduction in 1925 of the electric microphone, the quality of sound and scope
for recordings increased. This also meant that Suddaby was recorded in relatively clear tones
while still in her prime. As a recording artist Suddaby was successful. Her contract was later
renewed and extended until 1931, and during this period she was one of HMV’s biggest
stars.38 She quickly became known as the ‘Lass with the Delicate Air’, the title of one of her
most popular recordings and the song she often delivered as an encore in recitals.39 The
repertoire recorded reflected both her concert and recital programming. It included well-
known arias from the large choral works such as Messiah and English songs from Purcell to
the modern composers of her day.40 Her records were advertised in concert programmes, daily
papers and periodicals with Suddaby’s name appearing alongside the other great singers and
performers of the day, including Elisabeth Schumann, Robert Radford, John McCormack,
Peter Dawson and Ignacy Jan Paderewski (see Figure 7).41
37
‘His Master’s Voice’, Gramophone 2 no. 5 (1924): 181.
38
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 16.
39
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 20.
40
‘Miss Elsie Suddaby’, The Times, 1 May 1980, 18.
41
Advertisement for ‘His Master’s Voice’ contained in the programme for The Bach Choir Concert at
Queen Hall’s 24 February 1931. Programme located in Jan/Feb File of Queen’s Hall 1931 Box
CH6Cd5, RCML; ‘His Master’s Voice’, Times 22 November 1927, 10; ‘His Master’s Voice.
Gramophone Records for January’, in Gramophone 2, no. 8 (1925): xxv.
57
Chapter Two
Figure 7: An advertisement for Elsie Suddaby’s recordings with ‘His Master’s Voice’,
1928.42
The large body of reviews relating to Suddaby’s recordings provide a useful tool for
following her development as a singer. Whilst her recordings were all well received, critics
often viewed the earlier recordings as those of a singer still in training. Interestingly, their
comments focused on the same vocal difficulties Bairstow had identified, including ‘breath
control’, ‘stiff jaw’ and ‘poor diction’.43 As the 1920s progressed, however, critics came to a
general consensus that ‘Elsie Suddaby is a very different singer from what she was a few
years ago. It seems to be a voice with more to it than most light sopranos, and sheer true
artistry, and true aims, that have got her there’.44 Suddaby’s technical deficiencies in the early
days of her career do not appear to have hindered her success with the Gramophone Company
or her reception with the wider public. If anything, her continued release of recordings
enabled her to reach a wider audience.
42
Advertisement for ‘His Master’s Voice’ recordings, ‘Messiah’, Town Hall Birmingham, 26
December 1928, concert programme, Birmingham Town Hall, 1925–1929, English Provinces:
Birmingham Town Hall, 1920–1999 CH6Hd9, RMCL.
43
Bairstow quoted in Jackson, Blessed City, 71.
44
C. M. Crabtree, ‘Songs’, Gramophone 6, no. 63 (1928): 110.
58
Chapter Two
was in fact made in 1923 at Manchester.45 The breadth of her exposure to the public is clearly
seen through over 500 entries in the Radio Times, which is by no means a comprehensive list.
The Radio Times indicates that her performances for the wireless occurred not just in London
and Leeds but also throughout Britain. A number of these were relayed directly from town
hall concerts: for example, her performance with the Newcastle and Gateshead Choral Union
conducted by W.G. Whittaker on the 25 March 1925, which aired on the BBC local station
5NO Newcastle.46 Suddaby also took part in a large number of studio broadcasts for the BBC.
Unfortunately, during the BBC’s change of premises before the Second World War,
significant portions of their archive were disposed of, rendering Suddaby’s specific
relationship with the BBC unclear. It can be deduced, however, that it was certainly a prolific
one and that she must have been highly regarded by the organisation.
You amaze even me, who knows your singing so well. I’m quite sure there is no one
in the country who can sing like that. I have heard and still hear so many that I know.
Your voice is as good and fresh and beautiful as ever, but I think you have matured
and got a broader background. It is not often that I am really moved, but you gave
me a lump in my throat.49
Throughout her recording and live performance career, critics frequently praised
Suddaby’s ‘pure’, ‘angelic’ and ‘natural’ vocal quality and remarked upon her ‘religious’ and
‘unaffected’ performances.50 For instance, Monkman recalls that ‘she looked, and at times
45
‘Listings. Recital Elsie Suddaby (soprano) C. H. Trevor (organ)’, Radio Times 51, no. 664 (1936):
60.
46
‘Listings’, Radio Times 6, no. 78 (1925): 16.
47
Jackson, ‘Appreciations of Elsie Suddaby’s Life and Work’, 4.
48
Baker, ‘Appreciations of Elsie Suddaby’s Life and Work’, 9.
49
Bairstow quoted in Jackson, Blessed City, 326. Letter from E. C. B. to Elsie Suddaby, dated 11 May
but no year, probably early 1940s.
50
See, for example, Herman Klein, ‘Operatic and Foreign Songs’ Gramophone 7, no. 78 (1929): 246;
‘Miss Elsie Suddaby’, The Times, 1 June 1980, 18.
59
Chapter Two
sounded, angelic, her voice clear, pure and natural’.51 By the late 1920s critics felt that
Suddaby had ‘established herself as one of Britain’s leading sopranos’.52
Despite great difficulties with transportation during the Second World War, Suddaby
continued to maintain a full and busy schedule of concerts and recitals throughout Britain.
She could often be heard singing and playing the piano at Myra Hess’s lunchtime concerts
held at the National Gallery in London. This extraordinary venture on the part of Hess and her
fellow musicians, who donated their time, provided more than 1600 musical events that
boosted the morale of over 750,000 Londoners across a period of six and half years.53 During
the war years Suddaby also became good friends with the soon-to-be-acclaimed English
contralto Kathleen Ferrier. They sang together on a number of occasions, with ‘their
performances of Bach’s B minor Mass being of particular note and merit’.54 One such
performance prompted a critic to write that both Suddaby and Ferrier ‘have a refreshing
purity of style’ and that the performance ‘provides so much to be remembered with gratitude
and support’.55
After the war, Suddaby briefly returned to the studio to record Handel’s Messiah and
Bach’s St Matthew Passion with Ferrier for EMI Studios and Decca respectively.56 She
continued to perform the same repertoire as she had done before the war and in 1951 was
involved in the Purcell Centenary Concerts at the Victoria and Albert Museum.57 From 1953,
she gradually started to reduce her public appearances and finally retired in 1960 at the age of
67. Her friend Jean Allen, who had been a supportive companion to Suddaby all her life, died
suddenly in 1975. As a result, Suddaby moved into a nursing home in Hertfordshire, as the
disabling effects of Parkinson’s disease had by this time become quite pronounced. She died
peacefully in her sleep on 24 April 1980 at the age of 87.
51
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 20.
52
‘A Recital: Elsie Suddaby (soprano) and C.H. Trevor (organ), Radio Times 51, no. 664 (1936): 60;
and Jackson, ‘Appreciations of Elsie Suddaby’s Life and Work’, 5.
53
‘The Myra Hess Concerts’, National Gallery,
https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/history/the-myra-hess-concerts (accessed 17 December
2016).
54
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 18.
55
Quoted in Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 287.
56
Sir Thomas Beechan, The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Elsie Suddaby, Marjorie Thomas,
Handel’s Messiah, Gramophone 2EA 11810-1, 1947; and Elsie Suddaby, Kathleen Ferrier, Eric
Greene, William Parsons, The Bach Choir, Jacques Orchestra Reginald Jacques Chalres Thornton
Lofthouse, Bach’s St Matthew Passion, Decca, Ak. 1673-79, 1947.
57
Suddaby performed in the Third Concert held on Tuesday 22 May. See Watkins Shaw, ed., Eight
Concerts of Henry Purcell’s Music, foreword by Ralph Vaughan Williams (London: Arts Council of
Great Britain, 1951), 65.
60
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Isabella Douglas Baillie was born on 9 March 1895 in Hawick on the Scottish Borders, the
youngest of four children. Unlike Silk and Suddaby, Baillie was of working-class origins: she
described herself as one of the ‘ordinary people’.60 Her father, Martin P. Baillie (1860–1904),
‘was a master baker who specialised in those Scots delights—pancakes, baps, scones and
shortbread’.61 When Baillie was around five, her family moved to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, as
her father had become responsible for three bakeries, before moving again to Manchester,
where he ran five shops. Baillie was sent to the Board school on Princess Road. While this
was a time of prosperity for the family, who were lifting themselves from their working-class
origins, it was not to last. Quite suddenly, in 1904, Baillie’s father died and the family found
themselves in difficult circumstances. Recalling this time, Baillie wrote that as her sisters
were too young to work, the responsibility for providing for the family fell ‘solely’ to her
fourteen-year-old brother Alex.62
MUSICAL INSTRUCTION
Looking back, Baillie writes that her early musical training was informed by her family who
‘all sang’.63 But it was not until T.H. Bramwell, the headmaster of the Board school, heard her
sing that her vocal talent was recognised. Bramwell took Baillie under his wing and taught
her a number of songs, which she then performed at school concerts.64 While the family’s
financial situation remained a constant source of worry, Baillie was able to remain at school
58
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1890)’, 18.
59
Isobel Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely (London: Hutchinson & Co. Ltd, 1982).
60
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 14.
61
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 12.
62
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 14.
63
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 15.
64
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 15.
61
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after winning a scholarship to the High School on Dover Street, now known as Manchester
High School. The majority of students were fee-paying and Baillie stated that they ‘rarely lost
an opportunity to remind us scholarship girls of their superiority’. Her financial situation was
made more obvious by the fact her mother was unable to afford the proper uniform.65
Sometime before the age of fifteen, Baillie took a job at Howard’s music shops, and then
worked as a clerk for the gas department at Manchester Town Hall. At some point during this
period, Mr Branwell, who had maintained an interest in her voice, suggested she would
benefit from vocal lessons and took it upon himself to persuade her mother. Baillie therefore
began tuition with Madam Jean Sadler-Fogg, ‘the linchpin of what was at the time
Manchester’s most musical family’.66 Studies with Madam Sadler-Fogg consisted of a weekly
lesson comprising exercises on vowels, consonants, scales and arpeggios. Baillie explains that
her training under Sadler-Fogg was rigorous and that it was three months before she was
‘even allowed to sing a song’. Baillie was unable to pay Sadler-Fogg’s fees in the early days,
but as soon as she started earning money from her engagements she began to ‘make amends’
wherever possible.67
The Fogg family were influential in Manchester and Jean’s husband Charles Fogg—the
Hallé organist—facilitated Baillie’s a performance of Messiah at Crumpsall church, when she
was only fifteen years old, that cemented Baillie’s reputation.68 After this concert Baillie
never found herself short of engagements.69 In her autobiography Baillie emphasises how
‘exceptionally fortunate’ she was to have made the acquaintance of the Fogg family and the
‘inestimable debt’ she owed them.70
At this point, it is important to pause and explain Baillie’s family circumstances, as they
informed many of her career decisions. In 1911, aged sixteen, Baillie met her future husband,
Henry Leonard Wrigley, known to all as Harry. They entered into a courtship lasting several
years and married on 31 December 1917 while Harry was home from the First World War on
sick leave.71 Two days after their marriage he departed to the front and she did not see him
again until he returned wounded from the fourth Battle of Yres.72 Harry never completely
65
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 16.
66
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 18.
67
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 18.
68
Lewis Foreman, ‘Eric Fogg’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 20 December 2014).
69
Baillie explains that the performance took place at one of the local Stretford churches in Manchester.
The church organist accompanied the soprano solos. Baillie recalls that she ‘was a little scared,
particularly in Rejoice greatly, as [she] was not as confident about those runs as [she] later became’.
See Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 19 and 97–8.
70
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 19.
71
‘Marriages’, Manchester Guardian, 1 January 1918, 8.
72
The fourth Battle of Yres took place from 7–29 of April 1918.
62
Chapter Two
recovered from the injuries and experiences of the war. This meant Baillie became the
primary breadwinner for the family, supporting not just her husband, but also daughter
Nancy, born in December 1918, while Harry was serving abroad. It is clear from Baillie’s
autobiography that Harry was a constant source of support and always attempted to make her
‘life at home easy’. She goes on to write, however, that unlike so many husbands who
assumed the role of doting husband-manager, he never actively participated in her career,
preferring to remain in the background. This had a significant impact on the direction of her
career, which was first and foremost informed by maintaining financial security.
A survey of Baillie’s early concerts, 1909 to 1919, shows her singing with small local
choral societies and amateur orchestras in the immediate vicinity of Manchester. As the
decade progressed her appearances grew in number and spread further afield across the
northern parts of England, encompassing Bradford, Bolton and Sheffield. Interestingly, the
majority of these concerts were, as Baillie writes, ‘devoted to ballads’, ranging from such
established and popular favourites as Do you believe in fairies? to the newer offering of Eric
Coates and Haydn Wood as well as favourite oratorio arias.73 Baillie’s association with ballad
singing and concerts can be viewed as the first of many commercially minded career
decisions. Ballad concerts, a product of the previous century, were still popular and an
excellent way to make money.74 Considering Baillie’s financial circumstances, it is not
surprising she entered into a contract with William Boosey sometime during the 1910s to
perform at his ballad concerts and later at the Chappell Concerts at Queen’s Hall during the
early 1920s.75
Alongside the ballad concerts, Baillie also performed oratorios, sacred concerts (where
selections from oratorios and other sacred works were performed) and English art song.
During the war years, these concerts often raised funds for wounded soldiers (see Figure 8
and 9)
73
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 19.
74
Michael Payne, The Life and Music of Eric Coates (Surrey: Ashgate, 2012), 6.
75
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 19. Simon McVeigh and Cyril Ehrlich explain that the Boosey
‘ballad concerts (inaugurated in 1867) served as explicit advertisements for its list of parlour songs...
The company maintained its own stable of artists, paying them to sing from the catalogue and
advertising widely where each song was to be performed next’. See Simon McVeigh and Cyril Ehrlich,
‘The Modernisation of London Concert Life around 1900’, in The Business of Music, ed. Michael
Talbot (Liverpool: Liver University Press, 2002), 109.
63
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Figure 9: Advertisement for a ‘Grand Concert’ at Free Trade Hall on 22 June 1918.77
Practically every Anglican and nonconformist church of any size would give an
annual rendition of Messiah and in the larger churches this would be supplemented
by additional performances of sacred works by Handel and Mendelssohn. These
churches were also responsible for the annual musical weekends, the zenith of local
musical life. These weekends usually consisted of an inaugural concert on Saturday
night, the performance of a complete oratorio during Sunday afternoon and a final
concert, devoted exclusively to sacred music, on Sunday evening. The church would
be packed to the doors at every event. It frequently proved a considerable marathon
for the poor singer but a highly enjoyable one. Two singers from London were
normally engaged to participate with the rest of the team made up of local recruits.79
76
‘Concerts, &c.’, Manchester Guardian, 29 March 1918, 1.
77
‘Grand Concert’, Manchester Guardian, 21 June 1918, 1.
78
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 19
79
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 20.
64
Chapter Two
In the earlier years of Baillie’s career she was such a recruit, but by the 1920s she was one of
the top-billing names.
HALLÉ ORCHESTRA
Throughout Baillie’s training and growing number of performances in and around Manchester
throughout the 1910s, she retained her clerical job at the Town Hall. Toward the end of the
decade, however, Baillie explains that she made the difficult decision to leave and pursue her
singing career full time, which by this time was bringing home more money. While Baillie
was well known in and around Manchester, the turning point in her career came when she
wrote to Hamilton Harty, the newly appointed conductor of the Hallé Orchestra. She made
her debut with the orchestra on 17 November 1921 in the barcarolle ‘The Convent on the
Water’ from the symphonic suite The Venetian Convent by Italian composer Alfredo Casella.
The chief music critic of the Manchester Guardian, Samuel Langford (1868–1927), wrote the
following day that ‘Mme Bella Baillie is greatly to be congratulated on giving the difficult
chromatic vocalisation in the barcarolle with such clarity and effect and purity of
intonation’.80 This concert resulted in Baillie’s regular appearance with the Hallé Orchestra.
One of her most important early appearances was as soprano soloist in the Hallé Orchestra’s
1923 December performance of Messiah.81 This proved not only to be her first ‘big’ Messiah
but also the first to be broadcast on radio.82 From this time, Baillie became one of Harty’s
‘missions’ and he continued to take a keen interest in her career, not only providing
employment and introductions but also advice and friendship.83
WIDE-RANGING REPERTOIRE
While Harty provided her ‘first professional break’, Baillie’s London debut was facilitated by
the English conductor Henry Wood, best remembered for his annual series of Promenade
Concerts, which he conducted for almost half a century.84 In 1923, Wood employed her to
sing at six Promenade Concerts. This proved to be the start of a long association with the
Proms; Baillie went on to perform in all subsequent seasons until the interruption of the
Second World War. Moreover, her first appearance at the Proms coincided with the beginning
of her lifelong representation with Ibbs and Tillett.85
The Promenade Concerts show that Baillie was engaged to perform a wide range of
repertoire from oratorios, Bach cantatas and Purcell songs to new works by English
80
Quoted in Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 28.
81
‘Classical Ad 28’, Manchester Guardian, 7 December 1920, 1.
82
Jeremy Dibble, Hamilton Harty: Musical Polymath (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2013), 165.
83
Dibble, Hamilton Harty: Musical Polymath, 193.
84
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 37.
85
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 196.
65
Chapter Two
composers. Reviews of these performances were remarkably consistent; Baillie was praised
for her pure and light voice and for producing an ‘English sound’. In addition to her
performance of early and English music, Baillie was also employed to sing operatic excerpts.
These mostly consisted of Mozart, but also included Wagner. While the language used to
describe her voice remained the same, critics were not always convinced by her performance.
In 1927, after hearing her sing excerpts from Lohengrin, The Times critic wrote that while
‘Bella Baillie’s bright and pure voice echoed throughout the hall…one was left feeling that it
is not the voice for this music’. Baillie’s engagement with opera was not just confined to
Promenade Concerts: she was often engaged to perform arias from Handel and Mozart to
Verdi and Offenbach with provincial choral societies.
While Baillie continued to perform operatic repertoire throughout her career, her
participation in a Wagner broadcast for the BBC in 1928 prompted her to think more carefully
about the repertoire’s suitability for her voice. Baillie’s thoughts concerning the acceptance of
this engagement are particularly interesting:
Up to that time I had sung what I can only describe as ‘light Wagner’, Elsa’s dream
and Lohengrin for example, as I felt I was not entirely suited either vocally or
temperamentally for Wagner. Yet the thrill of singing against the rich orchestral
backcloth of Wagner’s score was most difficult to resist. After serious thought I
decided to accept the invitation despite the dangers. My decision was based on the
knowledge that as I would be singing into a studio microphone my voice would not
have to be unduly strained as the balance with the orchestra could be achieved by
mechanical means.86
Just a few days after the broadcast, Baillie received the following letter from Harty:
Dear Bella,
I see, by accident, that you have been singing such things as the closing scene from
The Ring—I believe you know in your heart that this is not wise. Your voice is too
lyrical and fresh for this kind of heavy-weight work.
You will know that I am only writing in this way because I wish for your real
success. I have really no business to interfere with what you consider right to do—
but you know how straightforward I am about music. I have been glad to do what
little I could to help forward your charming talent but if you feel you must continue
to sing music which can’t possibly suit your voice and personality then I must retire
just wishing you whatever good luck remains for you in your musical life.
86
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 29.
66
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I am really disappointed in you, Bella, I thought you had enough sense to see that in
your own line you have most of the sopranos beaten—but in music of this type I
refer to you are quite out of this picture and merely a source of gratification to your
enemies. Don’t be cross, I really believe what I am saying.
Hamilton Harty.87
Baillie replied, conceding to Harty’s advice, which prompted him to write again saying:
‘When you die I want someone to write on your grave, “She was a sweet singer who always
respected music”—not “She made £10,000 by prostituting her pure and fresh talent”’.88
Around the same time as Baillie’s ill-fated Wagner broadcast, there was a slight shift in
her career trajectory that was marked by a change of name from Bella to Isobel. Up until 1929
Baillie performed under Bella Baillie, the name by which she was known to family and
friends. At some point, presumably during the late 1920s, Harty suggested her name be
adjusted because ‘he felt that it led one to expect a music hall or musical comedy artist’. He
wrote:
Dear Bella,
A rather delicate matter! I have been so annoyed lately at the refusal of certain
people to engage you that I have asked them straight out what is wrong. In each case
they have answered that they don’t think your name, itself, is striking enough for
advertisement purposes. One said, ‘If only she were Isabel Baillie it would be so
different.’ Don’t be annoyed—I believe they are right and I want you to think
seriously of adopting this style in future.
The only reason I have for writing this is a wish to help you. I’m sure you will
understand this.
Yours sincerely,
Hamilton Harty.89
While Baillie did not relish changing her name, she knew Harty was right and from June
1929, she became known as Isobel Baillie (see Figure 10). A name change was not
uncommon, especially if a singer wanted to appeal to a different audience. Other artists who
made changes around this time were Mabel Ritchie, who changed her name to Margaret, and
87
Quoted in Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 29.
88
Quoted in Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 30.
89
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 28.
67
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Lisa Perli, who gave up further thoughts of opera, and reverted once again to her oratorio
name Dora Labbette.90 It appears that Harty’s advice was sound, as it coincided with the first
of Baillie’s performances with the Three Choirs Festival, the beginning of a long association
with the London Bach Choir, the end of her contract with William Boosey and a reduction in
her performance of operatic repertoire.
Figure 10: ‘Isobel Baillie’, postcard issued by Lassalle, 62 Baker Street, W.1, n.d. [1929].
Author’s own collection.
FESTIVAL REPERTOIRE
Although Baillie’s engagement with opera cannot be dismissed, it was not the repertoire for
which she became best known. Rather, she is remembered today as ‘one of the country’s
leading oratorio singers’ of the interwar years, being particularly admired for her
performances in Messiah, Bach’s St Matthew Passion, Elijah, Brahms’s A German Requiem
and the works of English composers.91 While this aspect of her career was developed during
her training in the provinces, her reputation in this field was secured through her long
association with festival singing, in particular the Three Choirs Festival where she made 18
90
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 244.
91
‘Obituary: Dame Isobel Baillie’, Musical Times 125, no. 1691 (1984): 44.
68
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appearances between 1929 and 1955, 15 of them consecutive.92 It is interesting to note that
Baillie’s first appearance at the Three Choirs was, as she writes,
The result of the then rather puritanical views held by the committee. When it
became known that an eminent Australian soprano engaged to sing at Worcester in
1929 was living with someone other than her husband her invitation was withdrawn
and [Baillie] was chosen as her replacement.93
Despite being the second choice, her appearance at the 1929 Worcester Festival marked the
first of ten Messiahs, a work with which she came to be particularly associated. Other
significant Messiah appearances included 26 consecutive performances with the Hallé
Orchestra; and, of her 51 appearances with the Royal Choral Society at the Royal Albert Hall,
33 were for Messiah. While these were the most prestigious Messiah performances taking
place at the time, Baillie’s regular appearances with provincial choral societies and other
festivals should not be underestimated. They make up the majority of her Messiah
performances, apparently reaching over 1000.94
While the oratorios and large choral works of Handel and Bach formed the backbone of
Baillie’s repertoire, her regular appearances at choral festivals, in particular the Three Choirs,
fostered a number of connections with English composers of her day. This aspect of her
career increased during the 1930s, possibly when Silk stepped away from solo engagements
to work with the New English Singers. For instance, in 1929 Silk gave the London premiere
of Herbert Howells’ song cycle In Green Ways for soprano and orchestra at a Promenade
Concert. Two years later, in 1931, Baillie performed the work at the Three Choirs in
Gloucester.95 From this time, Baillie regularly performed works by English composers,
including the larger works of Elgar and Vaughan Williams and songs by Eric Fogg, son of
Madame Sadler-Fogg and Charles Fogg, Hamilton Harty, Holst and Quilter.96 Reflecting on
this period, Baillie singles out the 1938 premiere of Vaughan Williams’s Serenade to Music
as the most significant.97
92
For a complete list of Baillie’s appearances at the Three Choirs Festival between 1929 and 1955
including repertoire performed see ‘Appendix B: Three Choirs Festival Appearances’ in Baillie, Never
Louder than Lovely, 156–60.
93
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 81.
94
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 99.
95
Lewis Foreman, ‘“From ‘Merry-Eye’ to Paradise”: The Early Orchestral Music of Herbert Howells’,
The Music of Herbert Howells, ed. Phillip A. Cooke and David Maw (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press,
2013), 136.
96
The majority of Baillie’s repertoire was by English composers as seen in ‘Appendix A: Repertoire
List’ in Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 147–55.
97
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 99.
69
Chapter Two
Baillie was also at the forefront of broadcasting and recording technologies and took full
advantage of its capabilities. She writes that in the days before the BBC she made her first
broadcast from Trafford Park in Manchester. This broadcast took place sometime during 1920
and contained popular ballad songs (see Figure 11).98 A few years after this début broadcast,
Baillie participated in, as already mentioned, the first complete broadcast of Messiah with the
Hallé Orchestra.99 Incidentally, Baillie almost missed the opportunity to perform, as she was
then under contract to William Boosey who, as Robert Elkin states in his book Queen’s Hall
1893–1941, ‘had a dislike of broadcasting amounting almost to a phobia’.100 In Boosey’s
eyes, artists who broadcast would, in a very short time, lose their live audiences. Baillie was
forced to write to Boosey and apply for special permission to broadcast with the Hallé
Orchestra. To her great relief, dispensation was given and she was able to join her regular
Messiah colleagues: Muriel Brunskill, Heddle Nash (1894–1961) and Norman Allin.101
Boosey’s apprehension about broadcasting turned out to be wrong. Baillie continued to
broadcast regularly with the newly formed BBC throughout the 1920s and ’30s. She states the
BBC soon became ‘part and parcel of the British way of life’.102 The breadth of her exposure
to the public is clearly seen through over five hundred entries in the Radio Times and this is
by no means a comprehensive list.
Baillie’s relationship with recording companies appears to have been tumultuous.103 She
made her first test recording with HMV on 19 February 1924. Unfortunately nothing further
came from this association: Baillie later wrote that possibly ‘those in high places did not find
her voice suitable’.104 Her second encounter with a recording company was facilitated by
Harty, then-musical advisor to Columbia Graphophone Company.105 Test recordings were
made in February 1926, which proved successful and within days she commenced
recording.106 While her initial contact was for one year with a two-year renewal clause, it
continued until October 1932. The repertoire she recorded during this time is very similar to
that recorded by Suddaby: arias from oratorio and early English composers including Purcell,
98
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 113. Baillie’s husband Harry contributed the ‘comic songs’,
Baillie performed ballads and the other vocal items, Jo Lamb provided some violin solos and John
Wills was the accompanist and piano soloist.
99
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 115.
100
Robert Elkin, Queen’s Hall 1893–1941 (London; Melbourne: Rider & Co., 1944), 33.
101
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 115.
102
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 115.
103
A discography of Baillie’s recordings from 1924 to 1974 is located in Baillie, Never Louder than
Lovely, 161–203.
104
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 116.
105
Dibble, Hamilton Harty: Musical Polymath, 165.
106
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 116.
70
Chapter Two
Morley and Arne as well as songs by contemporary English composers. The most significant
recording she undertook during this period was the first complete recording of Mendelssohn’s
Elijah, conducted by Stanford Robinson and recorded in February 1930 at the Central Hall
Westminster, with Clara Serena, Parry Jones, and Harold Williams.107 Unfortunately, Baillie
accepted a flat fee for each title, as did so many recording artists at this time, rather than
insisting on a royalty rate. She learnt some years later that those receiving royalties ‘made a
pretty sum’. This grated on her, for the family’s finances always remained a source of
concern.108
Figure 11: Photograph of Baillie’s first broadcast at Trafford Park in Manchester, 1920.
Left to right: Harry Wrigley (vocalist), John Wills (piano), Jo Lamb (violin) and Isobel
Baillie (vocalist).109
In 1932 her contract with Columbia Graphophone Company expired. While she was
invited back to the studio in 1941, Baillie expressed ‘personal feelings of chagrin that the very
years when [she] considered [herself] to be at [her] peak had, by and large, been neatly
avoided by the recording companies!’110 The repertoire she recorded during the 1940s focused
heavily on early music and included a number of works by Purcell, in particular the Blessed
Virgin’s Expostulation. Baillie credits Silk for her knowledge and love of the piece, after
hearing her perform the work at a Hallé concert during the 1920s. Of all her recordings it is
107
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 117.
108
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 116.
109
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, between pages 64 and 65.
110
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 118.
71
Chapter Two
the one Baillie looked on most favourably.111 Other substantial contributions to the revival of
early music included recording the role of Belinda in Constant Lambert’s 1945 recordings of
Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas and her successful Tudor madrigal recordings with Margaret
Field-Hyde, Gladys Winmill, Rene Soames and Keith Falkner that were directed from the
harpsichord by Boris Ord.112
In her autobiography Baillie makes a point of describing the difficulties she faced with
recording technology:
This comment is interesting for two reasons. Firstly, it draws attention to the fact that Baillie,
like Suddaby and Silk was considered to possess a ‘pure’ voice. Secondly, the difficulty
recording companies faced trying to capture Baillie’s ‘pure’ vocal quality was not an isolated
incident. Rather, it aligns with the reasons why Silk, who was also praised for a ‘pure’ and
‘angelic’ voice, was not able to produce recordings suitable for release. In spite of these
difficulties, Baillie’s recordings played a pivotal role in establishing her as a ‘leading British
soprano’.
After the Second World War, Baillie continued an active career with performances taking
place all around Britain. While she started to reduce her appearances in the 1960s, she
continued to perform publicly until 1974. She then toured Britain giving talks on her career in
music that served as the impetus to write an autobiography. In 1978 she was made a DBE for
111
John Steane, ‘English Song’, in Song on Record 2 ed. Alan Blyth (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1988), 130–1.
112
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 119. All the items recorded had been edited by Edmund
Fellowes.
113
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 121.
72
Chapter Two
her outstanding contribution to British music. It is interesting to note that Baillie only
mentions Silk and Suddaby once in her autobiography, mentioning in passing that the
premiere of Vaughan Williams’s Serenade to Music in 1939 was ‘probably the first time I
met…Elsie Suddaby as our paths were unlikely to have crossed before’.114 While this could
be put down to a lapse in memory, Baillie also fails to acknowledge any association with
other sopranos of her time. A survey of concert programmes, festival advertisements and
reviews indicates that Baillie would have had ample opportunity to make the acquaintance of
both Silk and Suddaby as they not only annually attended the same festivals, but even shared
the concert platform from the late 1920s through to the outbreak of the Second World War.
Instead, Baillie aligns herself with her male colleagues including the tenors Walter Widdop
and Parry Jones and the baritones Harold Williams and Roy Henderson. In addition to this,
Baillie’s biography contains an extended section on her performances with the ‘up and
coming’ contralto Kathleen Ferrier after the Second World War. This naturally helps to
secure Baillie’s position alongside of the most remembered English singer of the day.
Isobel Baillie died in Manchester on the 24 September 1982 at the age of 88. After her
death, an obituary by Michael Rhodes in The Times explained that ‘her singing was known
for its purity and beauty of tone, which was always bright and true, the manner of its use
unaffected and impeccable’.115 The Musical Times also drew attention to her ‘pure’ voice and
declared that she had been ‘one of the country’s leading oratorio singers, being particularly
admired for her performances in Messiah…and the works of British composers’.116
Although the careers of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie have been remembered to varying
degrees, this survey indicates that they contributed greatly to English musical life during the
1920s and ’30s. In particular, they were heavily involved with the revival of old music and
promotion of new English compositions. It is evident that this involvement was informed by
their musical education singing oratorio and English song in the provinces, their lifelong
association with choral societies and festivals and their similarities in repertoire and
performance style. These aspects of their career trajectories will be drawn upon in the
following chapters to illuminate how these women came to hold leading positions within the
revival of early music after the First World War.
114
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 90.
115
Michael Rhodes, ‘Obituary: Dame Isobel Baillie’, The Times, 29 August 1983, 10.
116
‘Dame Isobel Baillie’, Musical Times, 125, no. 1691 (1984): 44.
73
CHAPTER THREE
EARLY MUSIC AND THE RECITAL
PLATFORM: DOROTHY SILK’S CONCERTS OF
OLD MUSIC, 1920–25
The opening paragraph of Sidney Campbell’s ‘The Complete Singer: A Memoir of Dorothy
Silk’ tells of a shift in musical taste after the Great War. He writes, ‘there was great revival of
interest in old classical music’:
The Ballad Concerts had had their day; wireless was bringing the works of the great
masters into everybody’s home; young people began to flock to hear Bach, Brahms
and Beethoven. …So the stage was set, and an audience assured, for a singer who
could give concert programmes of classical music, especially when it was realised
that hardly a single item in these programmes had ever been heard in a London
Concert Hall.1
Campbell is, of course, referring to Dorothy Silk’s ‘Concerts of Old Music’, which took place
in London between 1920 and 1925. Although revivalist activities, including the publication of
early music editions and performances by an increasing number of early music specialists and
ensembles, had steadily expanded in England from the last decades of the nineteenth century,
Campbell suggests that after the war the revival of early music transitioned into the
1
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer, Intro, 1.
74
Chapter Three
mainstream. This can be seen through increasing performances of early vocal repertoire on
the recital platform by a handful of English sopranos.
Over the course of the 1920s, Silk, Suddaby and Baillie began including early vocal music
in their recital programmes. Performing arias and cantatas by Bach together with unfamiliar
repertoire by sixteenth- and seventeenth-century English composers, they exposed the
mainstream concert audience to previously unfamiliar repertoire. This occurred through
themed early music recitals and by programming the earlier repertoire alongside well-known
vocal music from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. For example, in 1924 Suddaby
performed a ‘Bach Recital’ assisted by flautist Albert Fransella and pianist Harold Darke and
in 1929 Baillie’s recital programme included ‘a selection of Bach arias and Purcell songs’
together with German and new English songs.2
Although Suddaby and Baillie contributed to the promotion of early music on the recital
platform, much of the repertoire they performed was first revived in Silk’s ‘Concert of Old
Music’. As suggested by Campbell, this series was central to popularising early vocal music
and influencing the type of early repertoire heard on the recital platform. In determining the
true significance of Silk’s revivalist activities on the recital platform from 1920, this chapter
will focus exclusively on her ‘Concerts of Old Music’ series. This will not only provide an
opportunity to examine her unique, but largely forgotten, contributions to English musical life
after the First World War, but also explore the central role a single musician can have in
‘shaping and reshaping musical life on a broad social plane’.3 The chapter will begin by
examining the state of London concert life from 1900 to 1920. This provides a context for
understanding the post-war musical climate in which Silk began her ‘Concerts of Old Music’
in 1920 and establishes a framework for determining how Silk’s concert series differed from
the typical vocal recitals of the day. Following an overview of the genesis of Silk’s concert
series, the chapter will then go on to examine the series’ press reception and the extent to
which it contributed to and reflected a change in English attitudes towards early music. To
conclude, this chapter questions the extent to which Silk’s early music activities as a recital
singer were pioneering.
2
‘Bach Recital: Elsie Suddaby (soprano), Albert Fransella (flautist) and Harold Darke (pianist)’, first
programme of ‘Four Orchestral Subscription Concerts’, County and Borough Hall, Guildford, 30
January 1924, concert programme, Harold Darke Collection, 1916–1924, RCML.
3
William Weber, ‘The Musicians as Entrepreneur and Opportunist, 1700–1914’, in The Musician as
Entrepreneur, 1700–1914, ed. William Weber (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University
Press, 2004), 3.
75
Chapter Three
At the turn of the century, concert life in London was undergoing a rapid transformation.
Simon McVeigh and Cyril Ehrlich write that this was made possible by a number of key
developments, including easier travel between London and the suburbs; an increase in the
length of musical seasons; the growing acceptance of Sunday as a day on which it was
appropriate to hold events; and the involvement of sheet music publishers and instrument
manufacturers in the building, ownership, management and repertory of concert halls.4 The
initiatives outlined by McVeigh and Ehrlich had two noticeable effects on London concert
life. Firstly, census records show a significant increase in the number of musicians and music
teachers: in 1881 there were 25,500 musicians and music teachers; by 1901 this had increased
to 39,300 (see Table 1).5 Secondly, there was a proliferation of concerts. The number of
miscellaneous concerts, soirees, matinees and recitals that took place is particularly striking:
in 1884–85 a total of 238 took place in London; by 1904–5 the number had almost tripled to
603.6
Table 1: Musicians and Music Teachers in England and Wales, 1881–1931 (thousands).7
4
This can be seen, for instance, through the number of recital venues that were constructed: Steinway
Hall in 1878 (400 seats), Bechstein Hall in 1901 (550 seats; renamed Wigmore Hall in 1917), and the
Aeolian Hall in 1907 (500 seats). See Simon McVeigh and Cyril Ehrlich, ‘The Modernisation of
London Concert Life around 1900’, in The Business of Music, ed. Michael Talbot (Liverpool:
Liverpool University Press, 2002), 103–08.
5
Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century, 235.
6
See McVeigh and Ehrlich, 104–07.
7
Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century, 235.
76
Chapter Three
The outbreak of war in 1914 was followed by an initial period of disruption, with people
fearing ‘a total cessation of musical life in the country’: the larger provincial festivals were
postponed indefinitely; many concert venues were taken over by military authorities; and
there was a significant decrease in the number of recitals and private concerts.8 Nevertheless,
Arthur Marwick writes that demand for entertainment was strong, as people ‘wanted frivolity
and ersatz excitement’, which was supplied in part through the silent cinema and American
popular music.9 In addition to more popular forms of entertainment, there were also ‘stirrings
of seriousness’.10 For instance, in 1918 the music critic Ernest Newman expressed his
amazement at the popularity of serious music: ‘Take the country as a whole, audiences have
been larger than they were in pre-war days; and it is all the more amazing when we remember
that every town has been denuded of many hundreds of the men who used to be the most
regular attendants at concerts’.11 It was Newman’s belief that the ‘demand not merely for
plenty of music but for plenty of good music’12 was ‘rooted in the “keener psychosis” of a
nation at war’.13 Thomas Beecham agreed, writing ‘in wartime, the temper of a section of the
people for a while becomes graver, simpler, and more concentrated…thoughtful intelligence
craves and seeks these antidotes to a troubled conscience of which great music is perhaps the
most potent’.14 The demand for serious music can be seen, for instance, through the continued
activity of the Royal Philharmonic Society, London Symphony Orchestra and Promenade
Concerts.
Although there was anxiety amongst musicians that engagements and teaching
opportunities would diminish, Christopher Fifield’s comprehensive study of the artist agency
Ibbs and Tillett indicates that demand for musicians remained relatively strong. A survey of
Ibbs and Tillett’s artist brochures between 1911 and 1920 shows that although numbers
dropped during the war, they returned once peace was restored.15After the war, people were
anxious to return to their normal lives. Ehrlich writes that ‘few did so more rapidly and
successfully than…musicians as the post-war decade was a time of seemingly limitless
8
E. D. Mackerness, A Social History of English Music (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1964),
236.
9
Arthur Marwick, The Deluge: British Society and the First World War (London: Bodley Head, 1965),
144.
10
Marwick, The Deluge, 144.
11
Ernest Newman, Observer, 12 December 1918, quoted in Marwick, The Deluge, 144.
12
Newman, quoted in Marwick, The Deluge, 144.
13
Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century, 190.
14
Thomas Beecham quoted in Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century,
190.
15
Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett: A Musical Empire, 119. Further information on artists is available in
Appendix 2 of Fifield’s book.
77
Chapter Three
opportunities’.16 The strength of the industry can be seen in the number of musicians and
music teachers, which rose from 43,900 in 1921 to 48.900 in 1931 (see Table 1). Despite the
demand for musicians, achieving success was by no means easy. Success as musician in
London required not just versatility as a performer but also the ability to teach and, in many
cases, pursue activities outside of music. Social and commercial skills were also vital:
Ehrlich observed that ‘success, whether achieved within the profession or by marrying
money, required more than musical talents: sensitivity to niceties of social behaviour and
confidence to brazen out solecisms, an eye for the main chance and careful bookkeeping’.17
When examining the overall growth of musicians and music teachers in England,
Elizabeth Roche states that ‘it is possible to detect several cycles in which…social or
technological changes created glittering new opportunities for musicians’.18 This is
particularly evident after the war, when Ehrlich notes that England experienced a ‘resurgence
of cultural euphoria’.19 This was influenced by a number of factors including the ‘profound
change in the public’s attitude toward [serious] music’ established during the war,20 the rise
and fall of the silent film, the growth of the recording industry, changes in state laws to
exclude foreign musicians,21 and the emergence of the BBC as a ‘powerful and indeed
creative new musical employer’.22 Although technological developments played a significant
role in the rapidly changing musical landscape, concert life remained strong.
Recitals that took place at London recital halls between 1900 and 1920 reveals that it was
common for vocalists to programme repertoire ranging from early music to lieder, chanson
and art song as well as opera arias. This is evident through a brief survey of the soprano
recital programmes at Wigmore Hall (formerly known as Bechstein Hall 1901–1916) between
1900 and 1920. In 1901, for example, Esther Palliser’s recital programme included Bach’s
aria ‘My heart ever faithful’ alongside Schubert’s Der Hert auf dem Felsen and
Tchaikovsky’s ‘Oh, jeunes filles’ from La Dame de Pique.23 In 1905, Stella Maris’s
programme comprised Mozart’s aria ‘L’amero sarò constante’ from Il re pastore, some old
Italian songs including ‘Sia in tono mio core’, Bach’s ‘Patron das macht der Wind’ and two
16
Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century, 190. See, also, Angell, ‘Art
Music in British Public Discourse During the First World War’.
17
Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century, 32.
18
Elizabeth Roche, ‘Review’, Journal of Royal Musical Association 112, no. 1 (1986–87): 139.
19
Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century, 224.
20
Ehrlich, The Music Profession in Britain since the Eighteenth Century, 190.
21
‘For many years concert agents had persistently engaged foreign artists in preference to British
singers and instrumentalist of equal standing’, changes in artist law after the war gave English
musicians preference over international artists. See Mackerness, Social History of English Music, 236.
22
William Weber, ‘Review’, Journal of Social History 21, no. 1 (1987): 180.
23
‘Miss Esther Palliser’s Concert’, The Times, 1 July 1901, 3.
78
Chapter Three
songs by Elgar.24 And in 1910, Emilia Conti performed a selection of ‘old Italian songs’
including Marcello’s ‘Quella flamma’ and Scarlatti’s ‘Violette’, French chanson by Duparc
and Debussy and Purcell’s ‘I attempt from love’s sickness’ from The Indian Queen.25 And in
1920 Miss Susan Strong’s recital consisted of several old Italian songs and French chanson;26
and Dorothy Helmrich’s recital, comprised songs by Scarlatti, Pergolesi and Dvorak along
with Purcell’s aria ‘When I am laid in earth’ from Dido and Aeneas.27 Although only a brief
survey, the above recitals show that between 1900 and 1920 typical recital programmes
included a broad range of repertoire often spanning from the Baroque through to the present
day. The early vocal music typically programmed, however, was limited and repetitive
consisting of a handful of the same Italian and Bach arias and a few well-known songs by
Purcell. It was into this arena that Dorothy Silk entered in 1920.
24
‘Concerts’, The Times, 1 March 1905, 11.
25
‘Mms. Conti’s Recital’, The Times, 24 June 1910, 13.
26
‘Recital of the Week’, The Times, 12 November 1920, 10.
27
‘The Week’s Music’, The Times, 11 October 1920, 10.
28
‘The Bach Festival’, The Times, 17 April 1920, 12.
29
‘The Bach Festival’, The Times, 17 April 1920, 12.
30
‘The Bach Festival’, The Times, 17 April 1920, 12.
31
Percy A. Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944, Vol 1 (London: Novello and Oxford University
Press, 1947), 182.
79
Chapter Three
Bach. Ernest Newman, for instance, wrote that ‘Miss Dorothy Silk and Mr. Gervase
Elwes…proved their value as Bach interpreters’.32
Two months after the Bach Festival on 3 June 1920, Silk’s first recital at Wigmore Hall took
place (see Table 2). The programme included performances by several musicians. Aside from
Silk, the English baritone and composer Murray Davey made the most substantial
contribution. He performed alongside Silk in the Schütz duet Quando se claudunt lumina
SWV 316 and Bach’s The Blessed Man, Cantata no. 57, in addition to performing a selection
of his own song compositions. Davey probably met Silk at the Bach Festival where they had
shared the concert platform performing arias and cantatas.33 Although not remembered today,
Davey was well known as an opera singer in both London and Paris, and performed regularly
at Covent Garden—where he took part in the first performance of Parsifal in England on 2
February 1914—and the ‘Grand Opera, Paris’, which was printed under his name in the
programme.34
Contributions were also made by contralto Agnes Clarke and tenor Taylor Harris who
joined Silk and Davey in the Bach chorale. Instrumentalists included the Hodgson Quartet,
comprising Percival Hodgson, Paul Beard (1901–89), Bessie Bowater, and Joan Willis and
the highly regarded flautist Albert Fransella (1865–1935), who collaborated not only with
Silk but also Suddaby and Baillie throughout the 1920s and ’30s. The pianist was George
Reeves who, as Campbell writes, ‘always played for [Silk] when the exigencies of both their
careers allowed it’.35
32
‘Concerts. The Bach Choir’, Sunday Times, 18 April 1920, 15.
33
H. C. Colles, ‘The Bach Festival’, Musical Times 61, no. 927 (1920): 316–17.
34
Although the 1914 performance of Parsifal was the first staged performance of the work in Britain,
there was an earlier concert performance of the work in 1884 at the Royal Albert Hall. There were also
frequent festival performances of excerpts. See David Cormack’s ‘“Parsifal” as English Oratorio’,
Musical Times 148, no. 1898 (2007): 73–98.
35
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 15.
36
‘Recitals of the Week. A Bach Cantata’, The Times, 4 June 1920, 14.
80
Chapter Three
There was plenty to distinguish it from the conventional song recital. It would be
well if more singers would seek for distinguishing features in the same quarter,
since Bach’s solo works for voices remain for most concert-goers an unexplored
field.37
Similarly, Ernest Newman’s review in the Sunday Times praised Silk’s revival and
performance of the early repertoire:
Miss Dorothy Silk gave us some of the loveliest of the old sacred music. The fine
duet by Schütz…was probably new to everyone in the hall. When, one wonders,
will the many similar treasures that lie entombed in the big collected edition of this
great old man, who lived a century before Bach, be made accessible to the public?38
Table 2: ‘Dorothy Silk Concert’, recital programme, 3 June 1920 at Wigmore Hall.39
37
‘Recitals of the Week. A Bach Cantata’, The Times, 4 June 1920, 14.
38
Ernest Newman, ‘Music of the Week. Some Bach’, Sunday Times, 6 June 1920, 7.
39
‘Dorothy Silk Concert, Wigmore Hall’, 3 June 1920, concert programme, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
81
Chapter Three
In an interview with Colles for the Musical Times in 1922, Silk stated that the 1920 Wigmore
Hall recital, and the response she received from critics, inspired the organisation of four
concerts of old music the following winter. Although describing herself as ‘un-enterprising
and diffident’, with the support of Constance Layton and Ernest Newman, Silk made the bold
decision to write to members of the London Bach Choir asking for their interest and support.40
The letter, dated July 1920, opens with Newman’s Sunday Times review, mentioned above,
questioning ‘why such beautiful old things hardly ever come to light’.41 Silk then personally
addresses the reader, writing:
Encouraged by the notices given to my concert in June, the idea has occurred to me
of giving…a series of four concerts devoted entirely to old classical music. This is
not a scheme to make money, but is simply a wish to make known to a greater
number of music lovers some of the beautiful old works which are so seldom heard
and when are, are an everlasting joy to those who love them.42
I am not unmindful that many concerts of old music had already been given with
this same desire, but there is room for more effort in that direction and the works of
Schütz and others are, as yet, entirely unknown to the English public. When the
demand for such music is greater, it will become ‘accessible to the public’.
If the scheme is to be put upon a workable basis it is necessary to find guarantors for
as many tickets as possible. …It would be impossible to embark on this project
without a certainty of some support from the public, or I would gladly do so.44
Silk concludes by questioning if there is a ‘public for such an endeavour?’ and asking those
interested to return the enclosed postcard indicating their support. Campbell stresses the
decision to undertake a concert series was ‘a somewhat perilous venture. Concert giving at the
best of times is an expensive and chancy business, and a concert of this sort chiefly consisting
40
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
41
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
42
Silk, letter to members of Bach Choir, July 1920, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
43
Silk, letter to members of Bach Choir.
44
Silk, letter to members of Bach Choir.
82
Chapter Three
of unknown, or at most unfamiliar works, was a tremendous risk’.45 It appears, however, that
there was no cause for worry; Silk’s appeal received a substantial response—‘100
subscribers…took serial tickets’ along with those ‘who so nobly guaranteed various sums of
money in case of need’—and the series was able to go ahead.46
Four concerts were given from October 1920 to February 1921: three at the Steinway Hall
and one at St Michael’s Church, Cornhill, where Harold Darke was organist.47 The first series
was billed as ‘Dorothy Silk’s Four Recitals of Old Classical Music’ (see Figure 12). Although
referred to as Dorothy Silk’s concerts, much like the recital that inspired the series, the
programmes included performances by string quartets, instrumentalists and other vocalists,
performing both solo and ensemble items. The number of musicians involved in each of the
four concerts was considerable (see Table 3). Aside from the contribution of baritone
Frederick Woodhouse and organist Harold Darke, the majority of Silk’s collaborators—while
active in the London music scene—are not remembered today. It is also important to bear in
mind that despite each concert containing performances by various artists, Silk was still the
main artist and undertook all the organisational responsibilities, from repertoire and artist
selection through to publicity and finances.48
Figure 12: Programme cover of the third recital, Dorothy Silk’s Fours Recitals of Old
Classical Music, Steinway Hall, 5 February 1921 at 3:15pm.49
45
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 14.
46
Silk, letter to audience members and cost summary, 19 February 1921, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
47
See Appendix B1, Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music, 1920–25: Programmes and Promotional
Material’.
48
Silk, summary of first series, February 1921, Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection
CH6Da9, RCML.
49
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Classical Music’, concert programme, 5 February 1921, Steinway
Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
83
Chapter Three
Table 3: Musicians involved in ‘Dorothy Silk’s Four Recitals of Old Classical Music’,
First Series (1920–21).50
True to her word, each concert had for its main item one Bach cantata for solo voice or
voices and various combinations of instruments, as well as unknown works by Schütz, Ritter,
Tunder or Purcell. Half the repertoire listed comprised arias or full cantatas by Bach; a third
was by the pre-Bach composers, Schütz, Tunder and Ritter;51 and the few remaining items
were mostly instrumental suites and songs by Purcell (see Figure 13).52
50
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Classical Music’, concert programmes 1920–21, Steinway Hall:
1920–, London: Halls Collection, CH6Da9, RCML.
51
‘Pre-Bach’ has been used to categorise German composer prior to J. S. Bach as this is the term used
by critics when discussing Silk’s programming of this repertoire in reviews.
52
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Classical Music’, concert programmes 1920–21, Steinway Hall:
1920–, London: Halls Collection, CH6Da9, RCML.
84
Chapter Three
3%
14%
Bach
Pre-Bach
English
52%
Other
31%
The success of the first series made the organisation of further concerts an ‘inevitable and
joyful task’.54 Once again, Silk wrote to subscribers, guarantors and interested members of the
public for their support:
The kind support given to my last Series of Concerts of Old Music and the wishes
expressed by many that another series might be arranged, encourages me to
announce four more concerts on the same lines as those adopted last winter, i.e., by
serial subscribers and by the promise of guarantors.
The latter were not called upon last winter, as the concerts almost paid their way.
Over leaf you will find the programmes I hope to give, subject to slight alteration.
If I have your sympathy and interest will you kindly fill in the enclosed form and
return to me as soon as possible.55
On the whole, Silk retained the same model for the concerts that followed. She continued to
engage the services of other musicians and, due to the success of the first series, was able to
secure a number of highly regarded early music specialists including the harpsichordist Violet
Gordon-Woodhouse, vocalists, Clive Carey and Steuart Wilson, and the English Singers.
Although the overall structure of the concerts remained the same, some changes did occur.
In the second series (1921–22), Silk introduced a secular concert and the amount of secular
53
Survey of repertoire from the ‘Dorothy Silk’s Four Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes
1920–21, Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
54
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 15.
55
Silk, promotional material for second series (1921–22), DSC CH6Tb8, RCML. See Appendix B1,
Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music, 1920–25: Programmes and Promotional Material’ for full
transcription.
85
Chapter Three
repertoire increased further in subsequent series. Campbell writes that this decision was made
to counterbalance what one critic ‘described as the slightly over-serious solemnity of the
concerts’.56 Silk used this opportunity to revive the secular cantatas of Bach. The ‘Peasant’
Cantata, appearing in the second series, received substantial attention from critics with P.A.S.
writing in the Observer that ‘it is I think several blue moons since [the ‘Peasant’ Cantata] was
heard in London’.57 And in the fifth series the ‘Coffee’ Cantata sparked similar comments
from critics, who drew attention to this ‘famous but rarely heard…Cantata’58 and even went
as far to claim that it was ‘possibly never before heard in London’.59 Although both works
had in fact been previously performed in England,60 Silk’s position as a Bach specialist and
her subsequent performances of these works in London and the provinces meant she was
often credited with their revival and popularisation. Of the other repertoire Silk performed,
Purcell’s Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation came to be associated with her and was soon her
most popular item with the public. Campbell declared that she ‘raised it from the dust of
oblivion’ and it was due to her performance that the work ‘found its way to the hearts and
minds of the audience’.61 Although it was only performed twice in her concert series, it was
regularly programmed at her other recitals. Aside from Purcell, Silk programmed individual
songs and part-songs (occasionally assisted by the English Singers) by other English
composers including Bartlet, Byrd, Campion, Dowland, Boyce, Gibbons, Lawes and Morley.
By the third series (1922–23), Silk’s concerts became known as ‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts
of Old Music’. This subtle change from ‘old classical music’ to ‘old music’ appears to have
been made in response to a broader shift in how early music was identified. Prior to the war, it
was common for recital programmes and critics to identify early music as ‘old classical
music’; throughout the first years of the 1920s, however, a shift appears to have occurred
whereby ‘old music’ came to define pre-Classical repertoire.
By 1924 the demand for seats resulted in the fourth series moving from Steinway to
Wigmore Hall. At the end of the fourth series subscribers apparently were not satisfied with
only two concerts and requested a plebiscite concert be given where they could vote for items
they wished to hear. Plebiscite concerts had been very fashionable from the mid-nineteenth
century in England, but by the 1920s they were not common. Taking place at Wigmore Hall
on 10 February 1925, the plebiscite concert offers a unique insight into the series’ evolution.
56
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 16.
57
P. A. S., ‘Rosenthal and Miss Silk’, Observer, 20 November 1921.
58
‘Bach’s “Coffee Cantata”: Miss Silk’s Programme at Wigmore Hall’, The Times, 18 March 1925.
59
‘Miss Dorothy Silk. Bach’s Coffee Cantata’, n.d. [17 March 1925], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
60
It has been suggested that the first performance of the ‘Coffee’ and ‘Peasant’ Cantatas in England
occurred in 1879 at the Bow and Bromley Institute under the direction of Samuel Reay (1822–1905).
See, ‘Samuel Reay, Mus. Bac’, Journal of the Folk-Song Society 2, no. 7 (1905): 140.
61
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 16.
86
Chapter Three
The items sent out for selection provide an overview of the early music repertoire Silk
performed in London and the provinces. As in the first series, all the repertoire listed—aside
from ‘Three Italian Catches for two Soprani’ by Martini (1706–84)—fitted into one of the
three categories that secured her fame: Bach, pre-Bach and English repertoire (see Table 4).
Table 4: Plebiscite Concert Selection List (Items highlighted were selected for
performance in the concert).62
62
‘Proposed Plebiscite Concert’, n.d. [1924], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
87
Chapter Three
While it could be suggested that Silk’s early music repertoire was not broad, focusing
primarily on Germanic and English traditions, and neglecting French and Italian music, it was
by no means limited. The plebiscite list shows that a comprehensive selection of repertoire
from the last four seasons was offered to voters. This aligned with Silk’s belief that it was not
enough to simply revive forgotten works: ‘I should like to repeat until they become familiar to
you, otherwise the object with which these concerts were started is lost’.63 The plebiscite list
also shows that the balance between Silk’s three main repertoire categories remained
consistent between the first and last seasons of the concert series (see Figure 14).
Figure 14: Summary of repertoire categories in the first series and those offered on the
Plebiscite list.64
60%
50%
40%
10%
0%
J.S. Bach Pre-Bach English Other
The majority of items performed at the plebiscite concert did not, however, actually appear
on the voting list. As a result of the involvement of the English Singers, half the items
comprise madrigals and part-songs (see Table 5). Furthermore, of the seven items performed
by Silk, two did not appear on the list: three Handel arias and Purcell’s ‘There’s not a swain’.
Additionally, although ‘old English songs’ still appeared on the programme, they were not
Dolmetsch’s arrangements. Rather, Silk used Frederick Keel’s popular arrangement of
Elizabethan Love Songs and Herbert Hughes’s edition of Old Irish Songs.
63
Silk, summary of first series, February 1921, Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection
CH6Da9, RCML.
64
Survey of repertoire from the ‘Dorothy Silk’s Four Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes
1920–21, Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML and ‘Proposed Plebiscite
Concert’, n.d. [1924], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
88
Chapter Three
Between 30 October 1920 and 16 March 1925 five series of ‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of
Old Music’ took place, in which she programmed a range of unfamiliar and unknown works.
Over the course of the series, Silk maintained control of the organisational and financial
aspects of the series and selected the supporting artists and repertoire. She also actively
promoted the concert series producing content for advertisements, such as those published in
the Musical Times, and made a point of maintaining a consistent brand, whereby the majority
of the concert programmes conformed to a single style. In addition to this, Silk welcomed
65
‘Dorothy Silk Concert of Old Music, Plebiscite Programme, Wigmore Hall’, 10 February 1925,
concert programme, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
89
Chapter Three
feedback and made changes accordingly. She continually sought to improve the standard of
the concerts, gradually increasing the size of the audience to the extent that she needed to
relocate to a bigger venue. Reflecting on Silk’s career, Mrs Horace Clive wrote ‘how many
gems were heard for the first time in her series of old music concerts 1920–1926?’66 This
raises a number of questions including how were Silk’s concerts received, where did she
source her unfamiliar music and what impact did they have on the broader early music
movement?
Along with the different readerships of each publication, these critics had their own
musical interests, which no doubt informed their reviews of Silk’s concerts. Hughes writes
that The Times was considered the ‘most powerful paper of the age’ and generally spoke to
the political class.69 Although the majority of Colles’s output was anonymous, Eric Blom and
Malcolm Turner suggest that ‘readers learnt not only to recognise it but also to admire and
trust it for its admirable qualities of comprehensive taste, sure and fair judgement and above
all, perhaps, for an unfailing tact and humanity that tempered even his severest strictures’.70
Throughout his life Colles remained an avid supporter, but also a critical voice, on the
development of new English music and the revival of early music through editions and
performance. In contrast to The Times, the Daily Telegraph was the ‘most commercially
successful and widely-read newspaper’.71 Hughes writes that ‘Legge felt that music should
reach out to the largest possible audience and his support for new English music was
66
Mrs. Horace Clive, Obituary of Silk sent to The Times, n.d. [August 1942], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
67
Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850–1914, 1.
68
Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850–1914, 1.
69
Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850–1914, 7.
70
Eric Blom and Malcolm Turner. ‘Colles, H. C.’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 8 August 2016).
71
Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850–1914, 8.
90
Chapter Three
consistent and powerful’. Through the Daily Telegraph’s wide readership, Legge’s aimed ‘to
make the nation musical’.72 Unlike Colles and Legge, who wrote for daily papers, Ernest
Newman was in a unique position as critic of the Sunday Times. He was able to focus on what
he considered to be the week’s more interesting musical events. An obituary in The Times
explained that Newman’s in-depth musical analysis together with his lively writing style
made his weekly reviews a ‘valued feature which all musically minded people had to read’.73
Alongside the considerable number of music reviews found in newspapers, music periodicals
also included a large body of musical criticism. The Musical Times had long since been the
leading music periodical in England. Between 1918 and 1944 editor Harvey Grace was a
‘much-appreciated’ regular contributor, sometimes under the penname ‘Feste’. His particular
passions influenced the journal’s content and included contemporary developments in
compositions, the music of Bach and community musical activity.74
An examination of the reception of Silk’s concert series focuses on the opinions voiced by
the critics and publications listed above. It also includes reviews from other publications
including the Morning Post and Musical News and Herald as this demonstrates the
extraordinary consistency with which Silk’s ‘Concerts of Old Music’ were covered and
critiqued.
Throughout Silk’s first series two main themes appear in the reviews: the revival of forgotten
repertoire and the quality of performance. After the first concert on 30 October 1920 at
Steinway Hall, critics from London’s daily newspapers made strikingly similar observations.
The Times declared that ‘Miss Silk is to be congratulated in her enterprise in preparing four
concerts all composer (sic) of music seldom heard, and not easily accessible’.75 The Daily
Telegraph wrote:
It is very greatly to the credit of Miss Dorothy Silk that she has come forward at a
time like this to remind some who are likely to forget that there were musical giants
in the earth before our own day. …Bach crowned the concert no doubt, but old
Heinrich Schutz and the little-known Tunder, and perhaps the even less-known
Christian Ritter—all giants in the earth before the Goliath, Johann Sebastian Bach—
were most worthy acolytes.76
72
Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850–1914, 64.
73
‘Obituary notice’, The Times, 8 July 1959, 8
74
‘Harvey Grace (1874–1944)’, Musical Times 85, no. 1213 (1944): 73–78.
75
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’s Concert’, The Times, 1 November 1920, 10.
76
‘Pre-Bach and Bach’, Daily Telegraph, 1 November 1920.
91
Chapter Three
If it was Miss Silk’s object in giving this recital (the first of four) to prove that
quality in music can outlive its idiom for centuries, she succeeded, and carried with
her the approval of the discriminating.77
Critics not only congratulated Silk on reviving ‘music seldom heard’, but also suggested that
this unknown repertoire, which had in the past only been programmed for historical interest,
was deserving of a place among other examples of timeless art. The review from the Morning
Post, mentioned above, explained that
Bach’s German predecessors helped very little towards collecting an audience, and
to give them the chief place in a programme requires courage as well as enthusiasm.
However, those who listened to Schutz’s ‘Sanguis Jesu Christi’ and Tunder’s ‘Oh
Lord, in mercy many Thine Angels blest’ on Saturday had little need to listen with
the historical sense.78
By the third concert, the Morning Post critic declared early music was finding a place
amongst the general public:
77
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, Morning Post, n.d. [1 November 1920], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
78
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, Morning Post, n.d. [1 November 1920], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
79
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, Morning Post, 7 February 1921.
80
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, New Age, 24 February 1921.
81
‘Steinway Hall’, Daily Telegraph, 7 February 1921.
92
Chapter Three
It was difficult to feel that any one but the concert giver and one or two of the
accompanists—the flautist and cellist particularly—really entered into the spirit of
this music, and the ensemble was certainly not what it yet may be with adequate
rehearsal. Accompaniment is never to be read at sight and a want of flow in
concerted singing is never really redeemed by individual merit. The performance
was good enough to be worth making a good deal better, and we shall look forward
to a considerable improvement at the next concert.82
Although some criticism concerning execution was voiced, as Campbell observed, the general
consensus by critics was that ‘London concertgoers had had nothing like this brought to them
before’ and that the first series was a positive endeavour that should be repeated.83
There was a consensus amongst critics that Silk’s concerts were at the forefront of London
music making. They were, for instance, frequently singled-out for inclusion in the Musical
Times monthly column ‘Some Singers of the Month’. Typical comments characterised Silk’s
concert series as having
laid distinction on a season not, as yet, noteworthy for its musical enterprise. Slowly
and surely has Miss Silk been building up for herself a reputation as a singer of
classical – especially Bach and pre-Bach – music, and the fine programme she chose
for Saturday tested that reputation to no slight degree.88
82
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’s Concert’, The Times, 1 November 1920, 10.
83
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 14.
84
‘Rosenthal and Miss Silk’, Observer, 20 November 1921.
85
‘The Week’s Music’, Sunday Times, 4 February 1923, 5.
86
A. K. ‘Dorothy Silk’, Musical Times 64, no. 959 (1923): 60.
87
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, n.d. [28 February 1922], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
88
‘Miss Silk’s Recital’, n.d. [20 November 1921], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
93
Chapter Three
Silk’s concerts also enjoyed considerable public attention. Reviews regularly noted the
‘overflowing’ and ‘crowded’ halls, which were attributed to the growing appreciation for her
unique repertoire and the high quality of performance.
Due to the consistent quality of Silk’s concerts, critics often used their reviews as a vehicle
for discussing the present-day value of early music. This can be seen for instance in the
following review published in the Musical Times in 1923:
If the enthusiasts for old-time music persevere long enough the public will discover
that well-chosen programmes from the 16th and 17th centuries give the most reliable
promise of enjoyment. Many were drawn to such concerts as those given by Miss
Dorothy Silk…by the air of respectability conveyed in the words ‘old music’, and
by the notion that the hall-mark of good taste nowadays is to be susceptible to the
quaint, old-fashioned, even primitive charm of these soothing strains. They are
learning, however, that there is no need for these patronising adjectives. No
musically-inclined person could hear…Miss Silk sing Purcell’s Evening Hymn,
without feeling that the music is as alive and full-blooded as most of the modern
romantic stuff that audiences are brought up on. Luckily this form of propaganda is
in the hands of the right people, who choose their programmes discriminately and
perform them to perfection.89
By 1925 Silk’s position as an early music specialist and the value of early music in recital
programmes appears to have become firmly established. Ernest Newman, for instance,
opened his 1925 review of Silk’s plebiscite concert stating that ‘it is an open secret that [Silk]
is at her best singing music of the past’.90 The critic from the Morning Post agreed and went
on to write that
The plebiscite that ordered Miss Dorothy Silk’s programme of old music at
Wigmore hall last night made no mistakes, for Miss Silk’s repertory leaves no room
for bad selection. …In all shapes and sizes and types this old music and its
performance were there for anybody’s delectation, and it suffices here to make
grateful record.91
In addition to focusing on Silk’s ‘rich and varied’ early repertoire, the Daily Telegraph made
a point of emphasising her established and receptive audience: ‘Packed with delight to the
lovers of the old music was such a programme – and the lovers of it were many last night, for
89
M., ‘Old Music’, Musical Times 63, no. 951 (1922): 345.
90
Ernest Newman, ‘The World of Music. Recitals’, Sunday Times, 15 February 1925, 7.
91
‘Music: Miss Dorothy Silk’, Morning Post, 11 February 1925.
94
Chapter Three
the Wigmore Hall had hardly a vacant seat – and its performance left very little to be desired
indeed.92
The most significant aspect of these later reviews is the consistency with which critics
acknowledge Silk’s reputation as a leading singer and her remarkable impact on the revival of
early music: the Musical News and Herald declared that ‘Dorothy Silk…has built for herself
a very special type of reputation which gives her quite a unique position among British
singers93 and the Musical Times acknowledged that ‘there is nothing to be added to former
tributes to Miss Silk’s art, except an expression of satisfaction that Londoners now-a-days so
keenly appreciate it. …Miss Silk now has full recognition and fame’.94
These reviews indicate that by 1925 Silk had established herself as a leading early music
soprano amongst music critics. In addition to this, the reviews suggest that in the space of five
years critics had shifted from thinking of early vocal repertoire as being an unconventional
undertaking limited to antiquarian interest to part of the established recital repertoire,
appealing to the London concert audience.
95
Chapter Three
when selecting her repertoire. Aside from the significant influence of C. L. and Amphlett,
Silk was closely connected with a number of early music editors, specialists and collectors
including Whittaker, Darke, Wilson and the English Singers. It is therefore possible that she
had access to their collections of early music editions and transcriptions. Lastly, an anecdote
captured by Colles in 1922 shows that when the opportunity presented itself, Silk actively
sought out scores of early music: as soon as Silk heard of ‘a dark little Bloomsbury shop into
which actual volumes of the Purcell Society had been known to drift’, an immediate
excursion took place mid-interview yielding ‘three volumes from the majestic editions!’97
Silk’s introduction to the early repertoire coincided with a fascinating period in the
publication of early music. Editions of works by celebrated composers of the distant past had
been rapidly increasing from the last decades of the nineteenth century. One development,
which had a significant impact on this increased publication of early music, was the
introduction of the ‘collected’, ‘historical’ or ‘scholarly’ edition, starting in 1851 with the
founding of the Bach-Gesellschaft (Bach Society). In connection with the prominent
publisher Breitkopf & Härtel, the Bach-Gesellschaft launched the first comprehensive edition
of his works, many of which had never been published. Haskell considers this monumental
project, comprising 46 volumes and taking 50 years to complete, to be ‘the first great
enterprise of modern…musicology’. It encouraged other countries to follow suit and prepare
scholarly editions of their own national repertoires.98
Scholarly editions aim, through the study of manuscripts and first editions, to create a
score that presents the composer’s original text, ‘free of editorial intervention’, in a way that
would allow ‘performers to form their own interpretations from the original notation’.99
Although scholarly edition made music previously inaccessible available to musicians, they
were often very expensive and large. This meant that if a musician was able to get their hands
on a copy it was necessary to transcribe the individual parts for performance. Writing in 1920,
the critic for The Times identified the characteristics required for a scholarly edition to be
practical for performance:
The addition of accompaniment (for rehearsal), the standardizing of the clefs and
the time values, the indications of expression, the statement of actual compass of the
parts, and the printing of single copies as well as complete editions.100
97
C., ‘British Players and Singers: Dorothy Silk’, 230.
98
Haskell, The Early Music Revival, 22.
99
Lawson and Stowell, The Historical Performance of Music: An Introduction, 37.
100
‘Old Songs for New Singers’, The Times, 6 November 1920, 8.
96
Chapter Three
An edition of early music that would have met the critic’s standards was Arkwright’s Old
English Edition published between 1889 and 1902. 101 Comprising of 25 volumes, the edition
included works by Byrd, Kirbye, Pilkington, Tye, Weekles and others. Following its
publication, Scholes noted that ‘the biographical, historical, and critical introductions and
notes constituted a valuable feature’ of the edition.102 The ‘Preface’ for the series is
particularly fascinating as it shows a genuine interest on the part of Arkwright in making this
music accessible to the public:
It is intended to represent a selection from the music hidden away in public and
private libraries, which is almost unknown, except to antiquaries and collectors of
rare books.103
Another major contribution to the publication of early music was Fellowes’s English
Madrigal School series (1913–24).104 Consisting of 36 volumes, this series ‘represented a
period of music starting with William Byrd in 1588 and ending with Thomas Tomkins in
1622’. Through this publication, Fellowes was widely considered to have ‘set a new standard
in editorial accuracy’ and was celebrated for having ‘provided both library and practical
performance editions’.105
Although a handful of scholarly editions met performance requirements, many did not. It
is not surprising then, that less scholarly performing editions continued to be published
throughout this period and, in fact, formed the large number of scores available for many
early composers. As Colin Lawson and Robin Stowell explain, performing editions made
early music ‘immediately accessible to a wide range of musicians’.106 It must be noted that
although influential in popularising early music, they varied in quality and often introduced
‘the precepts and prejudices of the editor’s own time’ and thus obscured the composer’s
original notation through editorial alterations affecting, for instance, tempo, dynamics,
101
G. E. P. Arkwright, ed., Old English Edition (London: J. Williams, 1889–1902).
102
Percy Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944: A Century of Musical Life in Britain as Reflected
in the Pages of the Musical Times, Vol. 2 (London: Novello and Oxford University Press, 1947), 773.
103
G. E. P. Arkwright, ‘Preface’, Old English Edition (London: J. Williams, 1889–1902).
104
Edmond Fellowes, ed., The English Madrigal School (London: Stainer and Bell, 1913–24).
105
Watkins Shaw, ‘Fellowes, Edmund H.’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 14 November 2014). In addition to the English Madrigal
School, Fellowes edited The English School of Lutenist Song Writers (London: Stainer and Bell, 1920–
32); Orlando Gibbons: A Short Account of His Life and Work (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1925); The
English Madrigal (Salem, N. H.: Ayer Publishing, 1925); and The English Madrigal (Salem, N. H.:
Ayer Publishing, 1925).
106
Lawson and Stowell, Historical Performance of Music, 37.
97
Chapter Three
ENGLISH SCORES
Of Silk’s three main repertoire categories—English music, pre-Bach and Bach— there is little
ambiguity surrounding the scores used for performances of solo ‘Elizabethan’ or early
English songs. At the time of Silk’s concert series there was only a limited number of editions
available. These were primarily by Frederick Keel (1871–1954), Arnold Dolmetsch, and Peter
Warlock (1984–1930) and Philip Wilson. The programmes of Silk’s concerts clearly
identified which edition and arrangement was used, and Silk drew on the work of all four
editors in her concerts series. For example: in the second series (1921–22), Silk performed
five early English songs arranged by Dolmetsch, accompanied by Violet Gordon-Woodhouse
on harpsichord; in the third series (1922–23) John Goss performed three songs by John
Danyel (1564–1626) ‘transcribed from the original edition by Peter Warlock and Philip
Wilson’; and in the fourth series (1924) Silk programmed a collection of songs by Campion,
Bartlett and Dowland arranged to string accompaniments by Keel.
Although all the above editors were strongly convinced of the value of this repertoire, their
approach to editing differed. Between 1909 and 1913, the composer, folk collector and early
music revivalist Keel published his editions of Elizabethan Love Songs.108 Writing in the
‘Preface’, Keel explains that the more he studied the early repertoire the more convinced he
became ‘that it was worthy of being rescued from the oblivion into which it had fallen’.109 He
also goes to great lengths to extoll the virtues of the lute. He does not, however, maintain the
lute accompaniment and instead produces an accompaniment idiomatic to the modern piano.
He later arranged some of the songs for voice and string quartet, as used by Silk in her concert
series. While Keel’s editions were criticised for being too free in their adaptation of the
original, they were entirely successful in their aim of popularising ‘a neglected treasury of
English song’.110 The success of Keel’s editions is evident through the adoption of the title
‘Elizabethan’ to characterise all songs ranging from 1593 to 1627. Keel explains that the term
‘Elizabethan’ was not to be ‘taken literally in point of date’ but used to characterise a ‘style of
music which has its origins in Queen Elizabeth’s reign and continued through the reign of her
107
Lawson and Stowell, Historical Performance of Music, 37.
108
Frederick Keel, ed., Elizabethan Love Songs, Edited and Arranged, with Pianoforte
Accompaniments Composed, or Adapted from the Lute Tablature (London: Boosey & Hawkes, 1909–
13).
109
Keel, Elizabethan Love Songs, i.
110
Keel, Elizabethan Love Songs, i.
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In contrast, in the ‘Preface’ to ‘Select English Songs and Dialogues of the 16th and 17th
Centuries’, Dolmetsch declares that his edition should not be required because the modern
musician should be able to perform from the original text. He goes on to write that ‘this
edition, it is hoped, will prove useful, since it very faithfully represents the mode of
performance…in accordance with the intentions of its composers’. Although Dolmetsch
firmly believes that the lute was the ‘best instrument to accompany these songs’, he
acknowledges that it is no longer common and instead encourages performances on virginals,
spinets and harpsichords. He concludes by asserting that the ‘piano is the worst possible
instrument to use, its heavy, dull tone being quite out of sympathy with the music’.112 It
appears that when performing Dolmetsch’s arrangements Silk heeded this advice, as Violet
Gordon-Woodhouse accompanied her on harpsichord. Peter Warlock and Philip Wilson
produced the final edition of Elizabethan songs used in Silk’s concert series. Peter Warlock, a
pseudonym for Philip Heseltine, was highly critical of the majority of early music editions
being produced. For instance, he referred to Keel’s arrangements as ‘totally made up and
missing the point of the Elizabethans’. His editions were, therefore, intended as faithful
transcriptions from the original.113 Silk’s use of all three editions indicates that she was happy
to engage with a variety of different scores, even modern adaptions of early music, if it meant
that she could draw from a larger pool of repertoire.
Of the early English repertoire programmed by Silk, works by Purcell were the most
common. Purcell’s popularity is not surprising. Andrew Pinnock explains that since his death
in 1695 Purcell was the only early English composer to be mentioned, published and
performed with any kind of regularity.114 Throughout the nineteenth century, Purcell had
assumed a privileged position within the revival of English music. This was fostered in part
through the activities of the Concerts of Ancient Music,115 the publishing initiatives of
Vincent Novello116 and the foundation of the Purcell Club.117 Purcell’s national standing was
111
Keel, Elizabethan Love Songs, i.
112
Arnold Dolmetsch, ‘Preface’, in Selected English Songs and Dialogues of the 16th and 17th
Centuries, Book 1, ed. Arnold Dolmetsch (New York: Boosey & Co., 1898).
113
Philip Heseltine, ‘On Editing Elizabethan Songs’, Musical Times 63, no. 953 (1922): 477–80.
114
Andrew Pinnock, ‘The Purcell Phenomenon’, in The Purcell Companion, ed. Michael Burden
(London: Faber, 1995), 12.
115
See, for example, William Weber, The Rise of Musical Classics in Eighteenth-Century England: A
Study in Canon, Ritual and Ideology (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992)
116
See, for example, Fiona M. Palmer, Vincent Novello (1781–1861): Music for the Masses (Aldershot:
Ashgate, 2006); and Philip Olleson and Fiona M. Palmer, ‘Publishing Music from the Fitzwilliam
Museum, Cambridge: The Work of Vincent Novello and Samuel Wesley in the 1920s’, Journal of the
Royal Musical Association 130, no. 1 (2005): 38–73.
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furthered in 1876 with the formation of the Purcell Society. Founded ‘for the purpose of
doing justice to the memory of Henry Purcell’, the Society was dedicated to publishing
Purcell’s complete musical works with the aim of making them available to the public.118
Herissone explains that the Society ‘never gained the momentum it needed—only two
volumes were published in its first decade, and the edition was in fact only completed in
1965, by which point a revised version had already begun to be compiled’.119
All of the Purcell repertoire programmed in Silk’s concert series was available in both
performing editions and the Purcell Society volumes. In a 1922 interview with Colles, Silk
spoke of the editions of Purcell, referring to ‘the inadequacy of some and the desirability of
the Purcell Society’s majestic volumes’.120 Although expressing a preference for the Purcell
Society’s scholarly editions, on two occasions, Silk decided to use arrangements with string
accompaniment. Unlike the arrangements of ‘Elizabethan’ songs, Silk does not list the
arrangers or editors in the programme. The string arrangement of ‘Nymphs and Shepherds’
was likely by Rutland Boughton as Silk had used this version at other concerts.121 Although I
have not been able to identify the arranger of ‘Shepherd, leave Decoying’, a number of
English composers produced string arrangements of Purcell’s repertoire during the 1910s and
’20s, including Vaughan Williams’s arrangement of Evening Hymn and Alexander Brent-
Smith’s arrangement of Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation.122 These arrangements allowed Silk
and other vocalists to programme Purcell’s works in town hall concerts where orchestral
accompaniment was typical.
117
See, for example, Herissone, ‘Performance History and Reception’, 342; and Roger Savage,
Masques, Mayings and Music-Dramas: Vaughan Williams and the Early Twentieth-Century Stage
(Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2014), 142.
118
Palmer, Vincent Novello, 168.
119
Herissone, ‘Performance History and Reception’, 339.
120
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
121
For example, Purcell’s ‘Nymphs and Shepherd’ arranged by Rutland Boughton was performed by
Silk and the City of Birmingham Orchestra on 9 February 1921. See ‘The City of Birmingham
Orchestra 4th Symphony Concert’, Town Hall, 9 February 1921, concert programme, English
Provinces: Birmingham, Town Hall, 1920–99 CH6Hd9, RCML.
122
For example at the ‘Henry Purcell Concert’ in 1 November 1938 Silk performed Purcell’s Evening
Hymn arranged by Vaughan Williams and Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation arranged by Alexander
Brent-Smith accompanied by the Merritt String Orchestra. ‘Henry Purcell Concert’, Queen Mary Hall,
1 November 1938, concert programme, Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC, RCML.
123
Performing editions include John Clarke-Whitfled’s Selection of the favourite songs, duets trios &
chorusses by Purcell published in two volumes; Twelve Songs composed by Henry Purcell edited and
arranged by William H. Cummings (1815).
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chaste little piece for schoolgirls, it used to be thought), The Fairy Queen (attractive as a
Shakespeare/ Purcell collaboration), King Arthur (for its solid patriotic sentiments), the
grandly titled “Golden Sonata” and a few well-worn songs’.124 By the time of Silk’s concert
series the situation had hardly changed. Writing in 1921, Arkwright observed that ‘the great
mass of the English public, and one may say, for our musicians too, Purcell at the present day
is a name and nothing more’.125 Arkwright goes on to write, however, that a change was
occurring:
It is true that from time to time there are sporadic attempts on the part of a few
enthusiasts to resuscitate his music, and at the present time there are signs of quite a
vigorous effort to revive some of his less-known songs and smaller pieces. This
seems to be part of a general movement. Our music-lovers have discovered that we
really can boast some old Masters.126
The timing of Arkwright’s article is particularly interesting. It was published just two months
after Silk’s celebrated revival of Purcell’s unknown Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation, a work
she was credited with having ‘raised…from the dust of oblivion’.127 Before Silk’s revival of
this work on 19 February 1921, I have only been able to locate two other performances in the
previous three decades, neither of which were public concerts. In March 1896 Lucy
Broadwood, at Richmond and Annie Ritchie’s home salon, performed Purcell’s Blessed
Virgin’s Expostulation along with his popular aria Dido’s Lament and Bach’s aria ‘Patron,
Patron, das macht der Wind’ from the secular cantata no. 201, Geschwinde, ihr wirbelnden
Winde.128 And in December 1900 the Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation was performed to
illustrate Hubert Parry’s lecture on the ‘Curious and Interesting Corners in the Music of the
Seventeenth Century’.129
Although Silk regularly programmed Purcell and came to be credited with popularising his
music, she did not perform repertoire by other seventeenth-century English composers, little
of which was known or available. Squire acknowledges this deficit in 1921:
the need for an English publication along the line of the German ‘Denkmaler’ is so
much felt. Locke’s Psyche’, the Shadwell ‘Tempest’ music, Eccles ‘Macbeth’ and
‘Semele’, the operas of Daniel Purcell and Godfrey Finer, the ‘Macbeth’ music
before it was tinkered with by Boyce – these ought all to be available to students of
124
Pinnock, ‘The Purcell Phenomenon’, 12.
125
Arkwright, ‘A Note on Purcell’s Music’, 149.
126
Arkwright, ‘A Note on Purcell’s Music’, 149.
127
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 16.
128
de Val, In Search of Song, 77.
129
‘London Concerts, & c.’, Musical Times 42, no. 695 (1901): 42.
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the history of English music. But a country which owns Purcell and yet has not
succeeded in completing the edition of his works begun forty-five years ago cannot
be expected to take an interest in the music of its minor composers.130
PRE-BACH SCORES
Unlike the limited availability of early English music, German vocal music became
increasingly accessible during the first decades of the twentieth century. Throughout Silk’s
concert series, works by the Pre-Bach composers—namely, Heinrich Schütz (1585–1672) and
Franz Tunder (1614–67)—were frequently performed. These two composers had been
recently edited and published by Breitkopf & Härtel as part of Denkmäler deutscher Tonkunst
(‘Monuments of German Musical Art’): Phillip Spitta (1841–94) edited 16 volumes of
Schütz’s output between 1885–92, while Max Seifert (1868–1948) edited Tunder’s small
output in 1900. As no other editions of Schütz and Tunder’s vocal repertoire were available at
the time of Silk’s concert series, it can be assumed that she had access to these editions, likely
sourced through Amphlett’s collection. This would have required Silk, or a friend or
associate, to transcribe the individual parts for performance, as most of Schütz and Tunder’s
vocal repertoire was accompanied by strings and continuo. For example: in the first series
Silk performed Schütz’s Herr unswer Herrscher, Cantata for soprano, two violins and
continuo, and was accompanied by J. Pennington and K. Skeaping on violin and Harold
Darke on continuo.131
Despite these recent publications, these composers were unknown by English audiences.
In the two decades before Silk’s concert series, they had only been mentioned a handful of
times in articles and reviews. Within a small circle of musicians and scholars, Schütz was
better known than Tunder, as is still the case today. Schütz was increasingly mentioned in
articles on seventeenth-century German music including Parry’s ‘Neglected by-ways in
music’ published in 1900,132 Colles’s 1911 article ‘Some German “Passions” of the 17th
Century’,133 and, more specifically, Edward Naylor’s ‘Some Characteristics of Heinrich
Schütz (1585–1672)’ delivered at the 32nd session of the Royal Musical Association in
December 1905.134 Despite this academic interest, performances of Schütz’s works were still
rare and only half a dozen reviews appeared in the Musical Times before Silk and Murray’s
130
William Barclay Squire, ‘The Music of Shadwell’s “Tempest”’, Musical Quarterly, 7 (1921): 572.
131
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Classical Music’, concert programme, 5 February 1921, Steinway
Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
132
Hubert Parry, ‘Sir Hubert Parry on “Neglected By-Ways in Music”’, Musical Times and Singing
Class Circular 41, no. 686 (1900): 247–48 and 255.
133
H. C. Colles, ‘Some German “Passions” of the 17th Century’, Musical Times 52, no. 8181 (1911):
229–33.
134
E. W. Naylor, ‘Some Characteristics of Heinrich Schütz (1585–1672)’, Proceedings of the Musical
Association, 32nd Sess. (1905–1906): 23–44.
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1920 Wigmore Hall recital. Unlike Schütz, Tunder was almost unknown. The only reviewed
performance of Tunder’s solo vocal work prior to the commencement of Silk’s concert series
that I have been able to locate took place in 1918 at Aeolian Hall, when Silk performed one of
his cantatas, accompanied by the London String Quartet. Reviewing the performance, the
Musical Times felt the need to provide a context for Tunder—a ‘pupil of Frescobaldi’—
further suggesting that their readership was unfamiliar with the composer.135
J. S. BACH SCORES
Even though Silk explored some of these lesser known composers in her recitals, Bach
formed the core of her repertoire in her ‘Concerts of Old Music’. She programmed 23
different arias and 14 different cantatas. Of the early vocal repertoire available during the
1920s, Bach was the most accessible. Pardee explains that ‘by the turn of the twentieth
century hundreds of English editions of Bach’s works were available, including countless
individual numbers from the Cantatas, Passions, Masses and other works’.136 English editions
were primarily published by Chappell, Novello and Augener and were mostly arranged for
voice and piano with English and German texts. The Bach-Gesellschaft edition was also
available in England, but due to its immense size and expense, it was not readily accessible.
Despite the large number of Bach scores available, only a handful of arias were performed
with any regularity, namely ‘Comfort sweet’ from Cantata no. 151 and ‘My heart ever
faithful’ from Cantata No. 68. The majority of his cantatas and arias were unfamiliar to
audiences.
The ‘Concerts of Old Music’ programmes suggest that Silk took advantage of this broad
range of scores, drawing upon both performing editions and the Bach-Gesellschaft. This is
indicated through the use of both English and German titles and the use of original
instrumentation. Of the 23 arias programmed 14 were identified with an English title and
accompanying text. Eleven of the 14 arias match the titles and texts found in the 1908–09
Augener publication of 40 Songs & Airs for Soprano & Tenor and 40 Songs & Airs for
Contralto & Bass edited and arranged for voice and piano with German text and English
words adapted by Ebenezer Prout.137 Furthermore, four of the arias programmed in the
concert series identified with a German title were also included in Prout’s editions. It is
therefore highly probable that Silk selected the majority of stand-alone arias from Prout’s
popular performing edition. While most of the arias were given with English titles, only four
135
‘London Concerts’, Musical Times 59, no. 909 (1918): 517.
136
Pardee, ‘The B-minor Mass in Nineteenth-Century England’, 279.
137
Ebenezer Prout, ed. 40 Songs & Airs for Soprano & Tenor and 40 Songs & Airs for Contralto &
Bass, arr. for voice and piano with German text and English words adapted by Ebenezer Prout
(London: Augener, 1908–09).
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of the 14 cantatas programmed appear with an English title. This was likely influenced by the
fact that there were few performing editions of Bach’s cantatas with an adapted English text.
Of the four cantatas identified with an English title, I have only been able to locate one
edition with a matching English text: ‘We have a fine next master here’, also known as the
‘Peasant’ Cantata no. 212, was published in 1905 by Breitkopf & Härtel for voice and piano
with an accompanying English text by Lucy Broadwood.138
Although Silk was clearly using the English titles and texts from performing editions for
half of the Bach repertoire programmed, she did not use Prout’s piano arrangements.
Throughout the series the accompaniments for the arias and cantatas—even those with
English titles and texts found in Prout’s editions—reflected Bach’s original instrumentation.
For example, ‘Comfort sweet’ was accompanied by obbligato flute and continuo; ‘The Soul
in Jesu’s Hand Reposes’ by two flutes, oboe and string quartet; and ‘Bäche von gesalznen
Zähren’ by string quartet, continuo and bassoon. As it has not been possible to locate
performing editions of the arias and cantatas programmed with instrumental accompaniments,
it is probable that Silk was using the instrumental parts contained in the Bach-Gesellschakft
volumes. As with the works by Schütz and Tunder, the transcription of these parts would have
required a significant effort by Silk.
Silk’s engagement with both the performing and collected editions, her desire to perform
these works with the composer’s original scoring and her use of English and German texts
suggests that the performance practice of Bach’s vocal music was entering a transitional
phase. In The Bach Choir: A History, Basil Keen writes that although the early music
movement had ‘slowly [been] gaining ground’ in England since the last decades of the
nineteenth century, by 1920 ‘Bach performances were still dominated by the conventions of
the Romantic period’.139 As Bach Choir concerts of this period show, choruses of ‘three
hundred in a hall capable of holding over two thousand’ were considered the norm.140 Silk’s
decision to perform Bach’s arias and cantatas in a recital venue with only one voice per part
was strikingly different from typical performance practice. She also made the decision not to
limit her repertoire to the handful of known arias and cantatas but instead focused on
programming Bach’s unfamiliar works. In addition to this, rather than using the typical piano
accompaniments, Silk clearly had a desire to perform Bach’s repertoire with the composer’s
original instrumentation.
138
J. S. Bach, The Peasant Cantata: We have a Fine New Master Here, ed. Bernhard Tody with
English text by Lucy Broadwood (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1905).
139
Keen, The Bach Choir, 110.
140
Vaughan Williams quoted in Keen, The Bach Choir, 110.
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Silk’s use of both English and German titles and texts suggests another important shift in
Bach performance practice. Throughout the nineteenth century the majority of recital
repertoire—whether originally composed in German, French or Italian—was performed in
English. By 1920 it was still very common for Bach to be performed in English. In 1921,
Vaughan Williams, the then-director of the Bach Choir, wrote:
The Bach Choir have no unreasoning prejudice against the German language, but it
is difficult to sing from the heart in any language but one’s own; therefore, English
must be the language of an adequate rendering, provided that the English translation
used has (1) any relation to the German original, (2) any relation to the English
language as it exists outside opera libretti. At present only a handful of such
translations exist, and the choice is thereby limited. It remains for some enthusiastic
Bach lover to put this right, and arrange for the publication of many of the cantatas
in a version in which they can be widely used.141
Silk’s decision to use English titles for half of the Bach repertoire programmed is particularly
interesting. This decision does not appear to have been made because of any language barrier.
She had previously spent time studying in Vienna and, although not acknowledged in any of
the ‘Concert of Old Music’ programmes, she is identified as the German to English translator
of Bach arias in other concert programmes. Furthermore, although English titles were a
common feature of her programmes, it is not clear if the works with English titles were
performed in English and the works with German titles in German. At no point do critics
make a reference to the language used. This is interesting in itself because the concert
programmes suggest that when multiple works by Bach were programmed in one concert the
language was likely shifting between English and German. What is clear is that Silk’s
decision to use English and German titles interchangeably shows that preference towards
using English over the original language was changing. This is particularly evident over the
course of Silk’s concert series. In the first series (1920–21) more than two thirds of Bach’s
vocal repertoire was identified with an English title. By the final series (1925) this had
completely shifted, with German titles used to identify all of Bach’s vocal works.
Silk’s selection of repertoire shows that wherever possible, she engaged with a broad
range of editions. She clearly had a desire to search out music unfamiliar to her concert
audience. This is seen, for instance, in her performances of Purcell song. Instead of
performing the same limited repertoire, she actively performed his unfamiliar works including
Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation and Evening Hymn. Silk also aimed to create performances
that respected the composers’ original intentions. This can be seen most obviously through
141
Vaughan Williams quoted in Keen, The Bach Choir, 110.
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her performances of the pre-Bach and Bach repertoire where she drew upon collected editions
to ensure the original instrumentation was used, even when popular performing editions were
available. On the other hand, Silk was also limited to the scores that were readily available.
Although she regularly performed songs by Purcell, there were few other editions of
seventeenth-century English music available. This was also the case with her performances of
Elizabethan music, which were limited to a small number of editions. Overall, Silk’s broad
repertoire, drawn from a variety of different scores, indicates that she was exposing her
concert audience to a wide range of music that was increasingly performed in a style that
attempted to honour the composers’ original intentions.
When asked by Colles why she thought her series had been such a triumph, Silk stated:
The concerts were not of a hotch-potch sort, they had one thread running through
them. And then perhaps because there has been a great deal heard of a later sort of
music which one gets to feel strained, inflated, and artificial. People said they found
a new freshness in such music as Purcell’s Expostulation of the Blessed Virgin and
his Evening Hymn.142
Although Silk’s remarks align with the ideas presented by critics, concerts of obscure early
vocal music with ‘one thread running through them’ were not a completely new phenomenon.
From the late 1890s early music was increasingly revived (in and around London) by a
handful of musicians and scholars, including Dolmetsch and his followers and the Chaplin
sisters. Yet at no point were Silk’s concerts aligned with the activities of these early music
specialists that had come before and, in the case of Dolmetsch and the Chaplin sisters, were
still continuing. There is, however, one clear reason for this lack of continuity: their
respective concert audiences.
As touched upon in the Introduction, concerts by the Dolmetsches and the Chaplin sisters
rarely took place in London’s main recital halls. The audience for these concerts was not
onlythe predominantly middle-class mainstream concert audience. Instead the Dolmetsches
activities were limited to literary-artistic circles. Performances by the Chaplin sisters mostly
took place at charity and matinee concerts, which were attended almost exclusively by
women. In stark contrast, over the course of five seasons Silk’s concert series took place at
two of London’s leading recitals venues (Steinway and Wigmore Halls), were attended by an
upper- and middle-class concert audience, and praised for their consistently high standard of
performance. This was only possible through the combination of Silk’s musicianship and
entrepreneurial and commercial skills. Silk found for herself an ‘unexploited avenue’ within
142
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
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mainstream London concert life that aligned with her musical interests and skills.143 She drew
upon her network of teachers and early music colleagues to propose a venture that appealed to
her target audience—the upper and middle classes—so much so that many offered their
financial backing as guarantors. She maintained control over the artistic and organisational
aspects of the series and continually sought to improve standards and increase her core
audience.
The extraordinary success that followed enabled Silk to effect particularly significant
change within the revival of early music during the 1920s. She managed to introduce
previously unfamiliar repertoire to London concert audiences. In so doing, she shifted the
value of this music away from antiquarian interest, resituating it within conventional
contemporary recital programmes. This was taken up by other singers, such as Suddaby and
Baillie, who increasingly performed a broad range of early repertoire – initially revived by
Silk – in their recitals. The effect of Silk’s pioneering activities is summed up by Campbell,
who declared that her concerts were a ‘tremendous stimulus…[for] a large section of music
lovers’ to discover for themselves forgotten early music and for establishing a performance
tradition amongst sopranos who went on to include ‘arias introduced and first sung by
Dorothy Silk…in their programmes’.144
143
Weber, ‘The Musicians as Entrepreneur and Opportunist, 1700–1914’, 5.
144
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 2.
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CHAPTER FOUR
FESTIVALS AND THE BBC: DISSEMINATING
EARLY VOCAL MUSIC, 1920–39
In 1924, the London Daily Paper reported ‘the early milk boy at Wimbledon is now whistling
excerpts from Mozart and Mendelssohn (heard on the wireless), instead of popular airs from
music-halls’.1 This report inspired Punch magazine, known for its humour, satire and
cartoons, to print the following poem on 29 October 1924:
‘Musa Lactea’
The Wimbledon milkmen,
In Common and Park,
Begin operations
While still it is dark;
And, to keep up their cauda
Or tail, to the mark,
While the rise with alauda
They sing like the lark.
But, unlike other milkmen
Who scatter the thin
Rear of darkness (see Milton)
With clashing of tin,
Mere discord disdaining
They temper their din
With the fruits of their training
In ‘listening-in’.
For the jodelling carol
Of ‘Milk-O!’ gives place
1
Daily Paper quoted in ‘Musa Lactea’, Punch 167 (1924): 484.
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To classical pieces
For tenor or bass;
And, aroused from their slumbers,
Their customers trace
Mendelossohnian numbers,
Mozartian grace.
As the milk in their milkcans
Their minstrelsy’s pure,
Undiluted, immune from
The music-hall’s lure;
Negroid syncopation
They cannot endure,
And lax modulation
They strictly abjure.
The whistlers of Schonberg
As yet, I’m aware,
On Wimbledon Common
Are certainly rare;
But already at Tooting,
Reporters declare,
The milkmen are fluting
His Pierrot Lunaire.
The milkman of old time
Was minded to bilk,
But now he’s an artist,
Like Dorothy Silk;
For singers and players
And all of that ilk
Acclaim the purveyors
Of music and milk.2
Despite not being the finest example of poetry, ‘Musa Lactea’ raises a number of ideas
regarding musical culture in England during the 1920s, in particular the role radio, or the
‘wireless’, played in transforming musical taste. The reference to Dorothy Silk is particularly
interesting. While Silk’s name was clearly chosen for its ability to rhyme with ‘milk’, this
survey of her career suggests a more significant reason for her appearance in this poem.
‘Musa Lactea’ indicates that by 1924 Silk’s efforts were reaching a wider audience than just
the typical middle and upper classes who attended her ‘Concerts of Old Music’.
The newly established British Broadcasting Corporation played a significant role in Silk’s
broader popularity. Margaret Stewart recalled that from its earliest days it ‘brought music to
far wider audiences than could be contained in “all the concert rooms” of the country’.3
Critics frequently remarked upon the BBC’s ‘good work…in widening the listener’s
knowledge and repertory’. Particular reference was made to the corporation’s dedication to
2
‘Musa Lactea’, Punch 167 (1924): 484.
3
Stewart, English Singer, 73.
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broadcasting art-music.4 Silk’s increasing fame was also due to a second distinctly English
institution: the long-standing provincial music festival and choral society tradition. Through
their programming of specific repertoires and their capacity to disseminate music to a wider
audience, these established forums of music making reflected and influenced public taste.
This was frequently acknowledged by critics, musicians and the public. For instance, in 1931
the critic for The Times declared that for over 200 years provincial music festivals and choral
societies had ‘held up a mirror to the musical taste of the mass of English people’ while at the
same exposing them to new works that could achieve recognition within the established
choral repertoire.5 In light of how influential these institutions were in shaping the musical
life of the country, it is interesting to consider the extent to which early vocal music was
disseminated to the English public and how this aligned with the revival of early music on the
recital platform.
This chapter will, therefore, consider the broader dissemination of early vocal music
during the 1920s and ’30s. Although it provides a general overview of the place of early
music within these institutions, it will focus primarily on the revival of music by Bach, whose
music was said to have found a place within English choral repertoire during this time.6 This
will again be achieved through a focus on the activities of Silk but will also take into account
those of Suddaby and Baillie. The chapter begins by providing an overview of provincial
music festivals and choral societies, exploring their position in English musical life since the
eighteenth century and the factors that influenced repertoire selection. This is followed by an
examination of early music at festivals and choral societies following the First World War.
Particular attention will be given to the revival of Bach at the Three Choirs Festivals. The
chapter will then go on to examine the programming of early music at the BBC. This will
begin with an overview of the BBC’s programming policies and radio schedules, which
provide a foundation for further investigating the degree to which the broader public was
exposed to early music after the First World War.
4
Ariel, ‘Wireless Notes’, Musical Times 68, no. 1013 (1927): 631.
5
‘Annals of the Three Choirs’, The Times, 5 September 1931, 8.
6
See, for example, Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944, Vol 1, 69.
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at English music festivals and choral societies. These institutions played a unique role in
exposing a broader section of society to earlier repertoire and influenced the ways in which
this repertoire functioned with mainstream musical life.
In The Provincial Music Festival in England, 1784–1914 Pippa Drummond explains that the
origins of the music festival can be traced to several different sources. One of the most
influential were the annual St Cecilia’s Day celebrations on 22 November—held in honour of
the patron saint of music—that took place in London from around the 1680s.7 The most
notable were the celebrations at the church of St Bride, Fleet Street, where a morning service
‘with sermon, vocal music and full orchestral accompaniment, was followed in the afternoon
by a secular concert at which a specially-composed Ode to St Cecilia was performed’.8 This
structure bears a striking resemblance to what would become the typical festival schedule,
consisting of ‘sacred works in the late morning followed by miscellaneous vocal and
instrumental concerts in the evening’.9 By the eighteenth century a number of musical
societies and groups existed, particularly in provincial centres. These laid the foundation for
music festivals to emerge across the country.
The oldest music festival, with an almost unbroken history from 1715 to the present day, is
the Three Choirs Festival. Daniel Lysons, the Three Choirs earliest historian, indicates that
the festival ‘came into being through a desire on the part of the Musical Societies of
Gloucester, Hereford and Worcester to participate in some form of cooperative music
making’.10 Annually rotated between Gloucester, Hereford and Worcester, the choristers and
orchestral musicians involved were typically associated with the three cathedrals. The success
of the Three Choirs inspired other festivals to spring up in provincial centres including
Salisbury, Chester, York, Bath, Bristol and Birmingham, with musicians often, but not solely,
drawn from their respective cathedrals and churches. Although some festivals had turbulent
7
Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in England, 2; and W. H. Husk, An Account of the
Musical Celebrations on St. Cecilia’s Day in the Sixteenth, Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries
(London, 1857), 227–33.
8
Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in England, 2.
9
Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in England, 1.
10
Daniel Lysons, History of the Origins and Progress of the Meetings of the Three Choirs of
Gloucester, Worcester, and Hereford (Gloucester: D. Walker, 1812) quoted in Drummond, The
Provincial Music Festival in England, 2. See also, Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worchester; and
Waktins Shaw, The Three Choirs Festival: The Official History of the Meetings of the Three Choirs of
Gloucester, Hereford and Worcester, c. 1713–1953 (London: E. Baylis & Son, 1954); and Nicholas
Cox, Bridging the Gap: A History of the Corporation of the Sons of the Clergy Over Three Hundred
Years, 1655–1978 (Oxford: Becket Publications, 1978).
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Chapter Four
By the mid-eighteenth century, the Handelian oratorio had become the most important
festival genre. Conceived as a compromise between opera and the sacred cantata, Handel’s
‘new’ genre was sacred but not liturgical, and dramatic yet performed without costume or
staged action. Despite his foreign origins, Handel’s status as an adopted Englishmen was
unquestioned and the oratorio, epitomised by Messiah (1741), was soon embraced as a
distinctly English art form. Messiah quickly achieved widespread familiarity and occupied a
unique place in the canon of English music.
By the nineteenth century, the English choral festival was considered ‘the most significant
cultural event’ to be held in the provinces.12 Organised on a large scale and lasting for up to
four days, they employed a ‘galaxy of star singers’ to perform oratorio in the cathedral and
miscellaneous concerts in secular venues.13 Drummond explains that these events were
‘eagerly anticipated, attracting large number of visitors to the festival town and having a
beneficial effect on both morale and trade’. The major festivals—the Three Choirs,
Birmingham, Leeds and Norwich—‘all achieved national recognition and had a considerable
impact on the cultural life of the whole country’.14 At the height of the festival movement,
around 1880 to 1914, there was scarcely a town in England that did not organise its own
festival. While smaller events could not compete with the prestigious festivals mentioned
above, they enjoyed a considerable local following.
The success of provincial festivals can be linked directly to the enthusiasm for amateur
choral singing that swept across Victorian England. This passion for choral singing was
influenced by a group of related factors, including the love of mass choruses established at the
Handel Commemorations of the previous century,15 the spread of musical literacy (partly
through the tonic sol-fa and sight-singing movements),16 and production of cheap vocal scores
11
Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in England, 2. See, also, William Weber’s ‘The 1784
Handel Commemoration as Political Ritual’, Journal of British Studies, 28, no. 1 (1989): 43–69; and
Michael Musgrave, The Musical Life of the Crystal Palace (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1995); Rachel Cowgill and Peter Holman, ed., Music in the British Provinces, 1690–1914 (Aldershot:
Ashgate, 2007).
12
Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in England, 1.
13
Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worchester, 78.
14
Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in England, 1.
15
For an overview of the Handel Commemoration see Drummond, The Provincial Music Festival in
England, 13; and Burney, An Account of the Musical Performances in Westminster-Abbey and the
Pantheon, 17–21.
16
Howard E. Smither, A History of the Oratorio Vol 4: The Oratorio in the Nineteenth and Twentieth
Centuries (Chapel Hill: University of North Caroline Press, 1987), 274.
112
Chapter Four
by companies such as Novello.17 Most importantly, choral singing was widely considered a
‘beacon of self-improvement’.18 Unlike the previous century, when musicians were primarily
sourced from cathedral choirs, amateur choral singers, both men and women, formed the
backbone of choirs involved in nineteenth-century provincial festivals. Palmer observes that
amateur choral societies were quickly established in festival towns and cities for the express
purpose of providing skilled and trained singers for grand festival performances.19
The earliest society to be founded with a festival connection was the Birmingham Oratorio
Choral Society in 1806. By the 1820s similar societies had appeared in Derby, Leicester,
Liverpool, Manchester, Norwich and York.20 Moreover, choral singing became so popular
that choral organisations thrived without needing to be associated with a festival. The Halifax
Choral Society was founded in 1818 and claims to be the oldest such society, with an
unbroken performance history that continues to the present day. The Huddersfield Choral
Society was founded in 1836, followed a year later by the Hereford Choral Society. London
choral organisation included the Sacred Harmonic Society (1832–82), the Choral Harmonists’
Society (1833–51), the Handel Society (1882–1939) and the Royal Choral Society (founded
in 1871). Overall, from 1840 through to the last decades of the century, choral organisations
flourished across England and came to be associated with all levels of society and ‘virtually
every institution of Victorian life, including civic organisations, educational institutions,
churches and temperance missions’.21
As Nigel Burton has observed, musical life in nineteenth-century England was ‘governed
not by opera, as in the rest of Europe, but by the oratorio’.22 Through concerts and festivals,
vast numbers of people, across all classes, ‘experienced the striking effect of the grand
oratorio performance’.23 The overarching influence of Handel’s Messiah and, later,
Mendelssohn’s Elijah was considerable. This can, in part, be attributed to the fact that
participation in or attendance at an oratorio performance came to be recognised as ‘a form of
religious observance’.24 More so than the singing of hymns, the oratorio was seen as ‘the
17
Palmer, Vincent Novello, 1.
18
Megan Prictor, ‘To Catch the World: Percy Scholes and the English Musical Appreciation
Movement 1918–1939’, Context 15 & 16 (1998): 62.
19
Fiona M. Palmer, ‘The Large-Scale Oratorio Chorus in Nineteenth-Century England: Choral Power
and the Role of Handel’s Messiah’, in Choral Societies and Nationalism in Europe, ed. Krisztina
Lajosi and Andreas Stynen (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 99.
20
Smither, A History of the Oratorio, 276.
21
Smither, A History of the Oratorio, 267.
22
Nigel Burton, ‘Oratorios and Cantatas,’ in The Blackwell History of Music in Britain: The Romantic
Age 1800–1914, Vol 5, ed. Nicholas Temperley (Oxford: Blackwell, 1988), 215.
23
Palmer, ‘The Large-Scale Oratorio Chorus in Nineteenth-Century England’, 99.
24
Smither, A History of the Oratorio, 262.
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Chapter Four
is closely intertwined with the spirit of English Protestantism, and thus such an
oratorio performance attracts the public far more than the opera; there is a further
advantage in that attendance at such an oratorio is considered the equivalent of
going to church. Everybody in the audience holds their Handel piano scores in the
same way church-goers hold their prayer-books. These scores are sold in shilling
editions at the box office and are read very avidly, in order not to miss such
celebrated nuances, it seemed to me, as the start of the “Hallelujah Chorus”, where
it is deemed appropriate for everyone to rise from their seats, a movement which
probably originated as an expression of enthusiasm but is now carried out with
punctilious precision at every performance.26
Although Messiah and Elijah were products of different centuries, their canonical status
was achieved through their perceived national, moral and religious qualities. This meant that
the English public viewed both the Messiah and Elijah in the same way: as great choral
masterpieces specifically suited to performance by the distinctly English institution of choral
25
John Goulden, Michael Costa: England’s First Conductor (Surrey: Ashgate, 2015), 183.
26
Richard Wagner, My Life, trans. Andrew Gray, ed. Mary Whittall (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1983), 225–6.
27
Derek Hyde, New Found Voices: Women in Nineteenth Century English Music (Aldershot: Ashgate,
1998), 14.
28
Charlotte Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor for English Singers: A Complete Course of
Practical Instruction in the Art of Singing (London: Boosey & Co.), 2.
29
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor for English Singers, 2.
30
Wagner, My Life, 225.
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Chapter Four
singing at music festivals. Few composers came close to competing with the continued
dominance of Handel and Mendelssohn, which resulted in a stagnant repertoire.
Up until the first decades of the nineteenth century, Bach was generally regarded as an
instrumental composer and was not widely known. This began to change in 1829 with Felix
Mendelssohn’s (1809–47) revival of the St Matthew Passion at the Berlin Sing-Akademie.
The concert is recognised as one of the most important musical events of the century, as it
took music usually limited to the church and placed it in the concert hall, subsequently
influencing the direction of early music revivals over the next century.32 It also brought about
a new awareness and appreciation of Bach’s music. Germany began to value Bach as a
monumental choral composer, a champion of German Protestantism and a symbol of cultural
superiority. Further afield, Bach societies formed across Europe for the express purpose of
reviving his large choral works in concert halls.33 As noted in Chapter Three, this was linked
to the dissemination of Bach’s music, which was significantly advanced from 1850 through
the activities of the Bach Gesellschaft.
It was only from the mid-nineteenth century that London began to embrace Bach’s vocal
music.34 William Sterndale Bennett (1816–75), a friend and admirer of Mendelssohn, founded
the Bach Society in 1849, providing a ‘real platform for the entry of Bach’s music into the
choral repertory’ in England.35 The aims of the Society were to build up a collection of
Bach’s music and relevant biographical publications and promote his works through
performance.36 The first major choral work to be undertaken was a performance of the St
31
Cole, Thomas Tallis and His Music in Victorian England, 35. Cole outlines the renewed interest in
the past with particular reference to Tallis’s music in Thomas Tallis and His Music, 33–44.
32
Cole, Thomas Tallis and His Music in Victorian England, 195.
33
See Cecilia Applegate, Bach in Berlin: Nation and Culture in Mendelssohn’s Revival of the ‘St
Matthew Passion’ (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 2005); and Jürgen Thym, ed.,
Mendelssohn, the Organ, and the Music of the Past: Constructing Historical Legacies (Rochester:
University of Rochester press, 2014).
34
For an overview of the Bach revival in England prior to 1850, see Michael Kassler ed., The English
Bach Awakening: Knowledge of J. S. Bach and His Music in England, 1750–1830 (Aldershot: Ashgate,
2004).
35
Keen, The Bach Choir, 5.
36
J. R. Sterndale Bennett, The Life of Sir William Sterndale Bennett (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1907), 233.
115
Chapter Four
Matthew Passion in April 1854. This small-scale performance comprised around one hundred
voices: 25 members from the Society with additional forces sourced from the Royal Academy
of Music and six boys from the Chapel Royal. The orchestra was a mixture of professional
musicians and students. Favourably received by critics, the performance made ‘Bennett
determined to repeat it on a much larger scale’ and over the next three years he continued to
rehearse and expanded the choir to three hundred members.37 This culminated in a
performance of the St Matthew Passion on 23 March 1858 (chosen for its close proximity to
Bach’s birthday, 21 March), which was a huge success.
Over the next ten years the Society regularly brought Bach’s choral works before the
public and published an English edition of the St Matthew Passion, edited by Sterndale
Bennett. Pardee argues that the success of St Matthew Passion with the English public lay in
‘its resemblance to an oratorio, its sacred subject matter, learned counterpoint and Protestant
hymn tunes, and its advocacy by the beloved Mendelssohn’.38 Moreover, its potential to cater
for huge choruses and audiences, aligned with the Victorian passion for monumental and
communal musical experience. Pardee acknowledges, however, that this was only achieved
because Sterndale Bennett modified Bach’s work, making it shorter to fit English tastes and
Anglicising the text to align with Victorian theology. Pardee shows that between 1871 and
1911 a further five English editions of the complete St Matthew Passion appeared, resulting in
the Passion taking on ‘a decided English appearance’ that conformed to Victorian social,
cultural and religious ideology.39
Although the Bach Society dissolved in 1870, its efforts led to subsequent performances of
the St Matthew Passion in London and the provinces. In 1876 the continued performance of
Bach was secured through the formation of the Bach Choir. Established for the express
purpose of giving the first performance of the Mass in B minor, the Society was not just
influential in establishing a performance tradition of Bach’s larger choral works but in
introducing his cantatas and instrumental repertoire.40
Despite this renewed interest in the musical past, the repertoire revived did not find a place
within mainstream music making. Toward the end of the nineteenth century a number of
English composers, musicians and commentators began increasingly to criticise the static
nature of choral music and tried to encourage festival and choral society organisers to search
out other great works. One such individual was the music critic George Bernard Shaw, whose
37
Keen, The Bach Choir, 10.
38
Pardee, ‘The B-minor Mass in Nineteenth-Century England’, 296.
39
Pardee, ‘The B-minor Mass in Nineteenth-Century England’, 297.
40
See Keen’s The Bach Choir for a full overview of the organisation’s activities.
116
Chapter Four
1894 article perfectly captures how unreceptive the English public were to ‘new’ and
‘unfamiliar’ works:
After the First World War, the oratorio resumed its position as ‘one of the prime glories of
musical life’ in England. In his examination of the Three Choirs Festival, Boden explains that
large numbers of people from all around the country and from all levels of society flocked to
participate in this English institution by joining choral societies and attending festivals (see
Figure 15).42 The genre’s distinctly English and religious qualities and perceived moral
goodness also remained prevalent. The music critic for The Times wrote in 1921 that
The performance of the oratorio at the Three Choirs Festival is a peculiarly English
institution. It reflects that core of English feeling about the art of music; that it is
somehow indissolubly bound up with the highest aspirations of humanity and
therefore has a natural association with religion.43
Although the end of the war marked the return of festivals and choral societies, Scholes
explains in The Mirror of Music that there was a shift in the larger choral works programmed.
He goes on to suggest that a ‘growing choral cult of Bach in Britain’ had emerged.44 While
Scholes credits this increased interest in Bach to the activities of Mendelssohn in Berlin, the
founding of the London Bach Society in 1851 and the establishment of the London Bach
Choir in 1876, he explains that up until the end of the nineteenth century Bach had yet to be
‘warmly ensconced in our choral programmes’ and was instead ‘lingering outside in the cold’.
Following the First World War, this change with Scholes declaring that by 1926 Bach had
secured a place within the English choral tradition.45
41
George Bernard Shaw, Music in London 1890–94, Vol 3 (London: Constable, 1932), 174.
42
Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worcester, 156.
43
‘Cathedral Festivals’, The Times, 10 September 1921, 6.
44
Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944, Vol 1, 74.
45
Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944, Vol 1, 69–70.
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Chapter Four
Figure 15: Opening service of the Three Choirs Festival at Gloucester, 1937.46
The Three Choirs Festival offers a unique forum for investigating Scholes’s claims. The
reasons for this are articulated by the critic for The Times in 1931 who expressed the
apparently widely held belief that if anyone wanted to
know what music of the larger kind English people of average intelligence really
cared about at any time since the beginning of the eighteenth century [they] must
begin by consulting the programmes of the Three Choirs… Since the festival has
always been given primarily for the benefit of a charity, …the programmes have
always consisted of the music for which the possible patrons were most likely to be
willing to pay.47
It is generally conceded that each programme should contain something new, and
therefore possibly unpopular… A first performance at a Three Choirs Festival may
not mean very much, a second means more, and a composer whose work is asked
for year after year has made his mark with his public.48
Before the war Bach’s larger choral works appeared only six times over a 20-year period
(1893–1913). In contrast, after the war there was a noticeable increase in the programming of
Bach’s larger works. Between 1920 and 1938 a total of 12 performances took place: the Mass
46
‘Opening of the Three Choirs Festival at Gloucester’, The Times, 6 September 1937, 16.
47
‘Annals of the Three Choirs’, The Times, 5 September 1931, 8.
48
‘Annals of the Three Choirs’, The Times, 5 September 1931, 8.
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Chapter Four
in B minor was the most popular, appearing eight times; the St Matthew Passion was
programmed twice; and the St John Passion and Magnificat were both performed once (see
Table 6).
49
Repertoire complied from a range of reviews published in the Musical Times and The Times between
1920 and 1938.
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Chapter Four
At the same time as Bach’s larger works were beginning to appear regularly within the
Three Choirs’ repertoire, there was a shift in the type of soprano engaged by festival
organisers for the solo roles. Writing in 1922, Klein stated that up until First World War, the
‘great oratorio artists’ were also ‘great opera singers’.50 In contrast, the sopranos employed
after the war were not generally associated with opera, but rather known as ‘festival’ or
‘cathedral’ singers. Insight into what comprised the art of ‘festival singing’ was articulated in
1921 by the critic for The Times, who asserted that it required ‘a style in recitiate [sic], aria
and ensemble which is quite distinct from the opera or anything else’.51 Training as a
‘festival’ singer was considered to be a particularly English undertaking. Silk, for instance,
observed in 1922 that
It occurs to me that singing oratorio with the less ambitious country choral societies,
and songs at all sorts of variegated little concerts, is a real training in bearing up
before an audience, and in all manner of other ways. Isn’t it the English singer’s
equivalent for the foreign singer’s drill in a small opera-house?52
As explained in Chapter One and Two, Silk, Suddaby and Baillie had all received such
training in the provinces. Over the course of the 1920s they were seen to possess the
necessary qualities for the art of ‘festival singing’ and became recognised as the ‘Bulk of
Britain’s Best’ when it came to oratorio performance (see Figure 16). As a consequence, they
dominated the roll call of festivals during the interwar years and their repertoire encompassed
the breadth of festival and choral society music, including the established works of Handel
and Mendelssohn, the newly introduced works of Bach and the increasing number of English
choral works by composers such as Elgar, Vaughan Williams and Holst. In a review
50
Klein, ‘Carrie Tubb’, 387.
51
‘Cathedral Festivals’, The Times, 10 September 1921, 6. The critic explains that ‘festival’,
‘cathedral’ and ‘oratorio’ singing are synonymous when he states that in general the term ‘oratorio
singing’ is used ‘broadly to cover the larger works of a Cathedral festival’.
52
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 229.
120
Chapter Four
published in the Musical Times in 1926, McNaught documents the scope of festival repertoire
when praising Silk’s position as the ‘perfect cathedral singer’. He writes that
Miss Silk’s utilities scarcely need a reminder. Her brilliant singing in Verdi’s
Requiem at Gloucester, her spirituality performing…Holst at Leeds [and] her
essential Bach-singing wherever there is Bach to be sung… on each side of her Miss
Silk is an artist of full stature. Small wonder that festival committees send her an
annual summons. This year Miss Silk won no triumph in her own right. Teamwork
was the measure of her value. ‘Hear ye, Israel’ became one of the things that
annually reconcile us to ‘Elijah’. Beethoven’s Mass in D was heard without anxiety
about the top line of the solo music. In the new Bach, ‘Ready be, my soul, always’,
the soprano was on her own ground. Sir Walford Davies has cause to remember
Miss Silk’s part in his new cantata with gratitude.53
Figure 16: Dorothy Silk, Agnes Nicholls and Elsie Suddaby, Three Choirs Festival,
Worcester, 1923.54
Alongside their position as festival singers, these three women were known for performing
early vocal music on the recital platform, in particular works by Bach and early English
music. This appears to have had an impact on festival programming, seen, for instance,
53
W. McNaught, ‘The Three Choirs Festival. Worcester, September 5–10’, Musical Times 67, no. 1004
(1926): 928.
54
Photo taken by W. W. Dowty in Herbert Thompson, ‘The Worcester Festival’, Musical Times 64, no.
968 (1923): 716.
121
Chapter Four
through Silk’s repertoire at both cathedral and chamber concerts at the Three Choirs. At
Hereford in 1921 Silk’s performance of the soprano aria ‘Comfort sweet’ and the soprano
solos in the cantata Come Redeemer of our Race was described by The Times critic as
‘something to be remembered’.55 In 1923 the Thursday afternoon concert at Worcester
Cathedral included Brahms’ Symphony No. 3 and a performance of Purcell’s Blessed Virgin’s
Expostulation by Silk.56 In 1931, the Thursday evening concert at Gloucester Cathedral
comprised the solo cantata by Ritter O Amantissime Sponse Jesu and Bach’s Sleepers Wake
performed by Silk together with Holst’s Hymn of Jesus and Vaughan Williams’s The Lark
Ascending.57 And in 1932 following the performance of Bach’s Mass in B minor, Silk sang
An Evening Hymn by Purcell, arranged for string orchestra by Vaughan Williams.58 Early
vocal repertoire, in particular early English song, was also heard at secular chamber concerts
as part of the Festivals. At the 1921 Hereford Festival an ‘all British’ chamber concert was
given where Silk performed Keel’s arrangements of Elizabethan love-songs by Bartlett,
Campion and Dowland and contemporary songs by Parry, Stanford, Vaughan Williams,
Dunhill, Ireland and Edward German.59 In 1927, Silk and Joan Elwes contributed a selection
of duets by Purcell and Bartlet to the Friday evening chamber concerts (see Table 7). All of
these early works performed by Silk at the Three Choirs had previously appeared in her
popular ‘Concerts of Old Music’ at Steinway and Wigmore Hall as well as in many of her
other recitals.60 This indicates that the unknown early repertoire first heard on the recital
platform was reaching a wider concert audience through its inclusion in festival programmes.
Connected to this, is the fact that these performances occurred alongside her participation in
the larger choral works. In both cases Silk, together with Suddaby and Baillie, received
overwhelming praise from critics, encouraging the audience to establish connections between
their early and festival repertoire.
55
From our music correspondent, ‘Three Choirs Festival’, The Times, 7 September 1921, 6.
56
‘The Three Choirs Festival’, The Times, 7 September 1923, 5.
57
Herbert Deavin, ‘The Three Choirs Festival’, Musical Times 72, no. 1064 (1931): 906.
58
‘The Worcester Festival’, Musical Times 73, no. 1076 (1932): 894.
59
Herbert Thompson, ‘The Hereford Musical Festival’, Musical Times 62, no. 944 (1921): 694.
60
See Appendix B1: Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music, 1920–25: Programmes and Promotional
Material; Appendix B2: Dorothy Silk’s Recital Programmes, 1912–40; and Appendix B3: Wednesday
Evening Concerts at Wigmore Hall, 1929–31.
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Chapter Four
Table 7: Chamber Concert by Dorothy Silk (soprano), Joan Elwes (soprano), Mrs Percy
Hull (piano) and Snow String Quartet, Shire Hall, Hereford Music Meeting, Three
Choirs Festival, 9 September 1927 at 8pm.61
Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s performances of Bach were not just limited to the Three
Choirs Festival and recital platform. They could be heard all over England performing Bach
with choral societies. The extent to which Bach’s music was performed is documented in
‘The Coming Season’ announcements, sometimes labelled as the upcoming ‘Choral Society
Programmes’, in the Musical Times. While these repertoire lists are by no means exhaustive,
they do provide a method for tracing the popularisation of Bach amongst English choral
society. A survey from 1923 to 1936 shows a dramatic increase in the number of times Bach’s
vocal works were programmed by choral societies.62 In 1923 works by Bach appeared 12
61
Programme located in ‘A collection of programmes and books of words for the Hereford Musical
Festival for the years 1866 to 1938’, Hereford, [1866–1938], British Library (hereafter BL).
62
Data collected from ‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times 64, no. 986 (1923): 726; ‘The Coming
Season’, Musical Times 64, no. 969 (1923): 792–93; ‘Choral Society Programmes (First List)’, Musical
Times 67, no. 1004 (1926): 935–37; ‘Choral Society Programmes (Second List)’, Musical Times 67,
no. 1006 (1926): 1024–25; ‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times 70, no. 1040 (1929): 934–36; ‘The
Coming Season’, Musical Times 70, no. 1041 (1929): 1027–29; ‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times
70, no. 1042 (1929): 1128; ‘The Coming Season in London’, Musical Times 76, no. 1112 (1935): 938–
39; ‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times 76, no. 1113 (1935): 1024–27; and ‘The Coming Season
Supplementary List’, Musical Times 76, no. 1114 (1935): 1136.
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Chapter Four
times. Within three years this number had doubled, remaining consistent to at least 1936 (see
Figure 17).63
Figure 17: The number of Bach’s vocal works programmed in ‘The Coming Season’
announcements in the Musical Times.
40
35
30
25
20 Provinces
10
5
0
1923–24 1926–27 1929–30 1935–36
The season announcements also show that the increase in Bach was not limited to prominent
philharmonic societies. Instead, smaller choral societies, clubs and unions, whose members
came from diverse backgrounds including the working classes, were embracing Bach’s
repertoire.64 Of the repertoire programmed Bach’s St Matthew Passion and Mass in B minor
were the most popular. The Christmas Oratorio also appeared frequently and by 1935–36
there was a noticeable increase in the number of cantatas listed (see Figure 18). The
increasing number of Bach performances also coincides with a shift in the programming of
the established choral repertoire, namely Handel’s Messiah and Mendelssohn’s Elijah. While
Messiah continued to dominate the repertoire performed by choral societies, there was,
however, a clear reduction in the number of times Elijah was programmed (see Figure 19).
63
For a full list of Bach’s repertoire included in the season announcements listed above, see Appendix
C1: Bach Programmes Announced in the Musical Times ‘The Coming Season’ and Choral Society
Programmes’, 1923–36.
64
Russell, Popular Music in England, 1840–1914, 2–3.
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Chapter Four
Figure 18: The number of times Bach’s vocal works included in the ‘The Coming
Season’ announcements from 1923–24 to 1935–36.
12
10
1923
8
1926
6
1929
4
1935
2
0
Mass in B St Matthew St John Christmas Magnificat Cantatas
minor Passion Passion Oratorio
Figure 19: Performances of Bach’s larger choral works (St Matthew Passion, St John
Passion, Mass in B minor, Christmas Oratorio and Magnificat), Handel’s Messiah and
Mendelssohn’s Elijah announced in ‘The Coming Season’ between 1923 and 1936.
50
45
40
35
30 Bach's larger choral works
25
20 Handel's Messiah
15
10 Mendelssohn's Elijah
5
0
1923 1926 1929 1935
Festival and choral societies programmes show that between 1920 and 1938 there was
indeed a shift in the typical music programmed by these institutions. This change can be
attributed to a number of factors. The most prevalent was the growing number of complaints
regarding the stagnant nature of festival and choral society repertoire. While few critics
disputed the annual performances of Messiah, the continued presence of Elijah was often
questioned. In 1921 The Times correspondent reviewing the Three Choirs condemned the
yearly programming of Elijah as ‘evil’, as it prevented other ‘great and greater’ works from
125
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being heard.65 The critic went on to state that festival organisers should aim to ‘represent the
modern diversities of taste’ and asked that future programmes include more Bach, Mozart and
Parry.66 Three years later The Times critic took a slightly different angle when he decided not
to enter into the ‘customary journalistic complaint of the repetition of Elijah and Messiah year
by year’ for he felt that ‘if the inhabitants of these towns want to hear these two masters of
oratorio done once in three years in each of their Cathedrals, they have every right to them’.
He did, however, make a point of congratulating Hereford for their performance Bach’s Mass
in B minor.67 By 1929 public’s enthusiasm for Elijah had, according to the critic Herbert
Thompson, diminished. He argued that the record of attendance showed that Elijah no longer
‘retains pride of place in the popular mind’, as it only attracted 1,904 hearers in comparison to
the St John Passion, which attracted 2,158.68 Festival organisers at Hereford responded to the
concerns of critics and the public by deciding not to programme Elijah in 1930. This decision
was also made at Gloucester in 1934 and again at Hereford in 1936. In addition to this, critics
noted that festival organisers and the attending public came to an ‘accepted comprise of
giving excerpts’ from Messiah which, as a review in the Musical Times explained in 1938,
was an ‘attempt to preserve tradition while at the same time breaking in against mere
routine’.69
At the same time as the ‘stereotyped repetitions’ of Messiah and Elijah were being
debated, Bach’s larger works were gradually assuming a position within the standard festival
repertory.70 In 1920 Samuel Langford stated that the St Matthew Passion ‘attracted one of the
largest audiences of the week’.71 Three years later Herbert Thompson praised Sir Ivor Atkins
for actively ‘promoting the Bach cult’.72 By 1932 the Daily Telegraph was able to declare that
Bach’s B Minor Mass is assuredly taking its place by the side of ‘Elijah’ and
‘Messiah’ as one of the works [unclear] in a Three Choirs’ Festival. [unclear] it
should be so, for there [unclear] composition in the whole [unclear] music to fit so
admirably the occasion. No other music reflects so perfectly certain aspects of
Christianity, and no other music stands for its adequate performance so much in
need of the special opportunities and facilities festival conditions provide.73
65
From our music correspondent, ‘Three Choirs Festival’, The Times, 7 September 1921, 6
66
‘Cathedral Festivals’, The Times, 10 September 1921, 6.
67
From our music critic, ‘Three Choirs Festival, To Sum Up’, The Times, 12 September 1924.
68
Herbert Thompson, ‘Worcester Musical Festival’, Music Times 70, no. 1040 (1929): 894.
69
‘The Three Choirs Festival’, Musical Times 79, no. 1148 (1938): 781.
70
Herbert Thompson, ‘The Gloucester Musical Festival’, Musical Times 66, no. 992 (1925): 992.
71
Samuel Langford, ‘The Worcester Festival’, Musical Times 61, no. 932 (1920): 665.
72
Herbert Thompson, ‘The Worcester Festival’ Musical Times 64, no. 968 (1923): 717.
73
From our Special Representative, ‘Bach’s B Minor Mass. A Fine Performance at Worcester,
Admirable Solo’, Daily Telegraph, 8 September 1932, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
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The Times critic agreed, writing in 1937 that the music programmed at the Gloucester Festival
‘reflect[ed] not the changing fashion of the town-bred specialists but the more constant tastes
of country dwellers’ who demanded performances of the three festival masterpieces –
Messiah, Elijah and the Mass in B minor.74
Although there was an increase in performances of Bach, there was no noticeable increase
in performances of early English music. Although a handful of performances took place at
festivals—namely those given at the opening service and the scattering of performances at
cathedral and chamber concerts—this music did not feature prominently within festival and
choral society programmes during the interwar years. Critics frequently lamented its absence.
In 1924 the reviewer for The Times wrote that the Hereford programme had ‘taken no account
of English music before the 19th century’ and suggested Byrd and Purcell ‘would have been a
godsend’.75 In 1928, Harvey Grace declared in the Musical Times that
It is, in fact, a reproach to the Festivals that they have paid so little heed to the
revival of the Tudor and Elizabethan school of polyphonic writers. A few examples
of Byrd, Weelkes, or Gibbons would provide welcome relief, would ease the strain
on the orchestra, and would develop the taste and musicianship of the district.76
At first glance the difference in position of Bach and early English composers within the
festival and choral societies tradition seems at odds with their significant status within the
revival of early music that was then occurring on the recital platform. This survey of
programmes and reviews suggests, however, that critics and the concert-going public viewed
these two early repertoires differently. Madrigals by composers such as Byrd and Weelkes
and songs by the Elizabethans and Purcell were clearly aligned with performance in small
concert venues, particularly the recital platform. It was felt that this music was more suited to
an intimate, chamber-like performance environment. On the other hand, Bach’s larger choral
works had come to be associated with the national, moral and religious qualities perceived not
just with Messiah and Elijah but also with the choral and festival traditions more broadly.
This indicates that they were functioning as great choral masterpieces worthy of a position
within the English institution of choral singing.
It would be a mistake, however, to separate the increasing presence of Bach’s larger works
within the choral and festival tradition from the broader revival of early music. Firstly, it was
through these institutions that a larger section of the English public was exposed to Bach’s
music. This familiarity provided a context for Bach’s lesser known cantatas and works by
74
‘The Three Choirs Festival’, The Times, 7 September 1937, 13.
75
From our Music Critic, ‘Three Choirs Festival, To Sum Up’, The Times, 13 September 1924, 8.
76
Harvey Grace, ‘The Three Choirs Festival’, Musical Times 69, no. 1028 (1928): 900.
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Chapter Four
other early masters to be included in programmes. This can be seen, for instance, in the
substantial increase in the number of Bach’s individual cantatas programmed by choral
societies between 1923 and 1936 and the increasing number of Bach’s cantatas and other
early music items programmed at festivals (see Figure 19). Secondly, the majority of
performances of early vocal music both on the recital platform and with festivals and choral
societies were delivered by a handful of women who were widely known as early music
specialists. Silk, in particular, was praised as ‘A Great Bach Singer’.77 Critics frequently
described her as ‘the best woman Bach singer in this country’, noting that ‘her singing of
Bach is something to be remembered’ and that she was called upon whenever there was Bach
to be sung.78 These comments remained consistent whether Silk was performing on the recital
platform at Wigmore Hall or at the Three Choirs Festival. It could therefore be suggested that
through Silk’s performance of Bach on a variety of different platforms she was the vehicle
through which the English public were able to engaged with his repertoire.
77
‘A Great Bach Singer’, n.d. [September 1932], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
78
E. B., ‘A Bach Mass at Worcester’, Birmingham Post, 8 September 1932; From our music
correspondent, ‘Three Choirs Festival’, The Times, 7 September 1921, 6; and W. McNaught, ‘The
Three Choirs Festival. Worcester, September 5–10’, Musical Times 67, no. 1004 (1926): 928.
79
‘Annals of the Three Choirs’, The Times, 5 September 1931, 8.
80
Cyril Ehrlich, ‘The Marketplace’, Blackwell History of Music in Britain, Vol 6: The Twentieth
Century, ed. Stephen Banfield (Oxford: Blackwell, 1995), 40.
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Chapter Four
industry.81 This new industry was driven by technological advances that disseminated music
through mechanical means. The introduction of sound recordings, broadcasting and film
revolutionised music making in everyday life and gradually ‘replaced live performance as the
normal experience’.82
As hinted at in the poem ‘Musa Lactea’, the advent of the ‘wireless’ was pivotal in
transforming musical taste in England. Although telecommunication companies were active
during the first decades of the century, the scope and nature of broadcasting changed in 1922
when the British Broadcasting Company Ltd (BBC) was founded as a private enterprise.
Within five years, the company was nationalised and awarded a royal charter. This amounted
to a monopoly on broadcasting within the British Isles, which was funded by a tax on the sale
of wireless sets, and by a licence system administered by the General Post Office. The BBC’s
significant role in English life and culture is demonstrated through the steady increase in the
number of licences sold (see Table 8). In 1926 approximately 20 per cent of the nation’s
households owned radios. By December 1930, this number had increased to 50 per cent. In
1936 almost 65 per cent of the population were listening to BBC broadcasts in their homes.
Table 8: ‘Relationship between the number of BBC licences sold annually, the number
of British households and the number of BBC staff, December 1926–December 1936’.83
81
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 15.
82
Ehrlich, ‘The Marketplace’, 40.
83
Doctor explains in The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music that this ‘the first three columns of statistics
were reproduced from ‘Licence figures’, BBC Handbook 1939, 129. The final column was reproduced
from Briggs, vol ii: The Golden Age of Wireless, 450’. Doctor also clarifies that the estimated
population of the UK, ‘according the 1931 census was 46, 189,445; by the end of 1936, the estimated
figure had increased to 47,229,400. For statistical purposes, the BBC estimated that in each British
household, there was an average of 4 to 5 people’. Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 20.
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Rachel Cowgill states that the activities of the BBC during the 1920s and ’30s ‘amounted
to a revolution in British cultural life, opening up a powerful, experimental medium through
which the national imaginary was shaped and articulated’.84 The BBC’s interwar priorities
can to a large extent be attributed to the company’s Managing Director John Reith (1889–
1971), who had an idealised concept of ‘entertainment’.85 Doctor explains that through
broadcasts ‘adhering to a fundamental advocacy of lofty education goals and a mixed
programming strategy’, Reith sought to ‘widen listeners’ intellectual and cultural horizons
and to heighten their critical perceptions’.86
Central to Reith’s objectives was the broadcasting of art music. Doctor argues that
‘broadcasting permitted the dissemination of art music on a scale previously unknown: the
potential audience was the size of the British population; few had prior knowledge of art
music’.87 Scholes, the newly appointment BBC Music Critic and long-time proponent of
public music appreciation programmes, shared Reith’s objectives, as outlined in a 1923
broadcast:
Up to the present, the great music of the world has been the private preserve of a
little band of people who happened to live in the places where it could be heard, and
who happened to have many enough to pay to hear it. Henceforth, it belongs to
everybody. This means an immense widening of public interest in music, and I
believe, a great rising of public taste. And as taste rises, the programmes of the
British Broadcasting Company will rise with them…
In five years’ time, in my judgment, the general musical public of these islands will
be treble or quadruple its present size. And the next generation, instead of regarding
a symphony as a mysterious contrivance of concentrated boredom, will accept the
great symphonies of the world as a part of its regular natural daily and weekly
pleasures.88
Throughout the 1920s and ’30s, Reith shaped the BBC’s music policies in collaboration with
the first BBC Music Directors Percy Pitt and Adrian Boult. Doctor explains that these men
84
Rachel Cowgill, ‘Canonizing Remembrance: Music for Armistice Day at the BBC, 1922–7’, First
World War Studies 2, no. 1 (2011): 76.
85
Ehrlich, ‘The Marketplace’, 40.
86
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 13. See also Megan Prictor, ‘Music and the Ordinary
Listener: Music Appreciation and the Media in England, 1918–1939’ (PhD Thesis, University of
Melbourne, 2000).
87
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 22.
88
BBC WAC, Scripts, Reel 458, Percy Scholes, ‘Broadcasting Symphonies’, 4 October 1923 quoted in
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 22. See also Prictor’s ‘To Catch the World’ for further
information on Scholes promotion of music-appreciation through the BBC, 61–71.
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‘were fundamentally responsible for the development of the BBC’s art music programming,
laying the foundation for what later became the post-war “standard”.’89
Insight into what comprised ‘standard’ repertoire during this time can be found in an
introductory article in the concert programmes of the BBC Proms Season, 1927–28. The
article clearly articulates the BBC’s long-term goal for popularising art music through regular
broadcasts, and summarises the effectiveness of this initiative:
Like all who have the best interest at heart, the B.B.C. is firmly convinced of the
truth of the famous dictum, that ‘the best music is necessary and most popular’ if
only it be adequately presented. …The compliers of the programmes…have had no
hesitation in including a good deal of music which the unthinking man-in-the-street
has hitherto regarded as ‘severe’. …Time was, and not very long ago either, when
no popular programme would have dared to include the name of the great Bach, the
greatest of all masters of music. To the uninitiated the very name was terrifying, and
there was [sic] even musicians who professed to find his music intellectual and
scholarly rather than melodious. For some years now, however, the Promenade
Concerts, have made it abundantly clear to their own adherents, and the first session
of B.B.C. Promenade Concerts to an enormously wider audiences, that music of the
great Bach is full of all those joyous qualities of melody, brightness and even fun,
which make it truly popular.90
Bach was not the only early composer included in the BBC’s art-music agenda.
Elizabethan music was also frequently heard, although not always welcome. For instance,
writing in 1925, W.W. Burbham complained that there were
too many uninteresting items, such as Elizabethan music, new fangled songs, weird
quartettes and quintettes, groaning Chamber music, quite unappreciated by the
public, readings from unknown poets, etc., which savour very much the penny
reading concerts of olden days, also talks on subjects which are of no interest to
99% of the listeners.91
Despite numbers of similar complaints, Reith and his team continued to devote a substantial
amount of airtime to art music. They strongly believed that ‘by popularizing good music’—
89
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 14.
90
‘National Symphony Concerts, 1927–28’ [programme article], quoted in Doctor, The BBC and
Ultra-Modern Music, 102.
91
Letter from W. Whitt Burnham to J. C. Reith, 7 December 1925, quoted in Doctor, The BBC and
Ultra-Modern Music, 29.
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even if that music was ‘unfamiliar and unpopular with the majority of listeners’—the wireless
was fulfilling ‘an important service to the musical world’.92
Prictor explains that, ‘with these goals in mind’, a number of radio programmes were
developed during the 1920s with the aim of providing ‘the listener with a basic knowledge of
standard repertoire, and an appropriate vocabulary to display this knowledge’.93 One such
programme was the Foundation of Music that ran between 1927 and 1936 with the aim of
improving ‘mass musical taste’. Prictor writes that five to six times a week 10 to 15 minute
broadcasts of solo and chamber music took place. Of the repertoire programmed Bach
appeared the mostly frequently.94 Filson Young in his 1926 article for the Radio Times makes
a point of explaining the programmes’ repertoire selection, stating that all the works broadcast
are ‘the foundation from which the whole of modern music is derived’.95
Taking into consideration the BBC’s polices for the promotion of art music, it is useful to
investigate the extent to which the English public was exposed to early vocal repertoire
during the interwar years. Unfortunately the BBC has not preserved the majority of
documents from 1920s and ’30s.96 The BBC’s broadcasting schedules published in the Radio
Times, and recently made accessible through the BBC Genome Project, however, provide a
unique source for analysing the impact of programme policies and practices concerning the
broadcasting of early music during the interwar period.97 While it is not possible here to trace
the popularisation of all early vocal music broadcast, a focus on Bach’s vocal works and early
English repertoire provides insight to the establishment of this music within the soprano
repertoire and the extent to which it was heard and embraced by the general public.
92
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 28.
93
Prictor, ‘To Catch the World’, 64. See also, Stradling and Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance,
1860–1940, 90; and Paddy Scannell and David Cardiff, A Social History of British Broadcasting
(Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1991) 195.
94
Prictor writes that through than examination of the Radio Times between January 1927 and June
1936 ‘the composers featured most often in Foundation of Music were, in order of frequency, Bach,
Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, Brahms, Handel, Schumann, and Haydn. Prictor, ‘To Catch the World’,
65.
95
Filson Young, ‘The Foundation of Music: The Scheme of a new Series of Broadcast Recitals’, Radio
Times 31 December 1926: 6.
96
Little documentation survives about how music policy and programming decisions were made during
the 1920s as when the BBC changes premises before the Second World War documents or discarded
and lost.
97
The BBC Genome Project is a website containing the ‘BBC listings information which the BBC
printed in Radio Times between 1923 and 2009. You can search the site for BBC programmes, people,
date and Radio Times editions…This is a historical record of both the planned output and the BBC
services of an given time. It should be viewed in this context and with the understanding that it reflects
the attitudes and standards of its time’. See http://genome.ch.bbc.co.uk (accessed 3 February 2016).
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Between 1923 and 1939 over 3000 broadcasts of Bach are documented in the Radio Times.
From this list, approximately 250 broadcasts of Bach’s vocal repertoire that included a
soprano soloist can be identified.98 These broadcast schedules often provide only limited
details regarding repertoire and artists, so this is unlikely to be a complete list. For instance:
on 29 March 1925 the schedule indicates that a broadcast was to be delivered by Suddaby but
makes no reference to repertoire,99 and on 2 May 1926 the schedule lists items including
Bach’s Cantata ‘Sing Ye to the Lord’ but makes no mention of the artists involved.100
Furthermore, the schedules do not take into consideration changes in programming that
occurred after printing. Despite this, a survey of 250 broadcasts provides an adequate sample
from which to extrapolate data.
These broadcast records show that between 1923 and 1929 there was a dramatic increase
in Bach broadcasts. During this period radio stations emerged in all major centres including,
but not limited to, London, Plymouth, Edinburgh, Liverpool, Leeds-Bradford, Hull and
Belfast. These stations organised their own programming but also shared broadcasts with
other stations. For instance, on 9 March 1926 at 19:45, 6LV Liverpool was the only station to
broadcast ‘The Passion (According to St Matthew) performed by the Philharmonic Orchestra
and Choir and Conducted by Adrian Boult’.101 Whereas on 20 May 1928 at 17:45, a broadcast
of Bach’s Cantata no. 44, Sie werden Euch in den Bann tun was aired on both 2LO London
and 5XX Daventry.102 While multiple relays of the same programme at the same time have
been counted as one broadcast, the fact that programming was not centralised meant that
different programmes were broadcast from a range of city centres. That being said, the
consistency with which Bach was programmed aligned with Reith’s general promotion of art
music.
From 1930 there was a sudden decrease in the number of broadcasts of Bach’s choral
music. This appears at odds with the general enthusiasm for Bach’s music frequently
propounded in daily papers. A closer examination of the BBC reveals that this substantial
decrease can be largely attributed to a major restructure that took effect on 9 March 1930
whereby the majority of radio stations were regrouped to form either the BBC National
Programme or the BBC Regional Programme. This change enabled listeners to receive two
98
While there are a substantial number of broadcasts including Bach’s repertoire between 1923 and
1939, it was beneficial to limit the search to broadcasts that specifically mentioned ‘Bach’ and
‘soprano’.
99
‘Elsie Suddaby’, Radio Times 79 (1925): 9.
100
‘Afternoon Service, 2 May 1926’, Radio Times, 136 (April, 1926): 20.
101
‘The Passion’, Radio Times 128 (1926): 21.
102
‘Bach Cantata’, Radio Times 242 (1928): 10.
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This analysis of broadcasts shows that the BBC was regularly exposing the British public
to Bach’s music. Of the 250 broadcasts collated, approximately 50 comprised Bach’s larger
choral works— St Matthew and St John Passion, Mass in B minor and Christmas Oratorio—
while just over 200 consisted of either cantatas or stand-alone arias (see Table 9). Of the
cantatas and arias broadcast, a small number—including the ‘Peasant’ Cantata, ‘Coffee’
Cantata, Phoebus and Pan, Jauchzet Gott in allen Landen, ‘Comfort sweet’ and ‘Oh yes! Just
so!’—appeared more regularly than others, suggesting that they were popular with performers
and the public. That being said, the cantatas and stand-alone arias broadcast were by no
means limited or repetitive. Instead, the BBC appears to have made a point of not only
providing regular Bach broadcasts but intentionally exposing the British public to the breadth
of his vocal repertoire.
Table 9: Soprano soloists in broadcasts of J. S. Bach between 1924 and 1939. Taken
from the BBC Radio Times, accessed through the BBC Genome Project.
Across the 250 broadcasts nearly 70 different sopranos were engaged to sing. Of the 55
sopranos employed to sing cantatas and stand-alone arias, Silk, Suddaby and Baillie delivered
a third of the broadcasts. In general, the remaining 52 sopranos only delivered a handful of
broadcasts each. There were, however, two exceptions, with Mary Hamlin and Kate Winter
103
Doctor writes that from 1930 ‘the new system, twin-wave transmitters enabled all listeners to
receive BBC signals on two wavelengths, designated the National Programme (261 metres) and the
Regional Programme (356 metres in London). Material transmitted over the National wavelength was
planned and produced in London and was available to everyone. The Regional programmes also
originated to some extent from London, but often included regional variants from local stations’. See
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 182.
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together contributing 18% of the broadcasts. Unlike Silk, Suddaby and Baillie, who were
broadcast from BBC studios around the country often with a variety of different ensembles,
however, Hamlin’s broadcasts were primarily relayed from the Guildhall School of Music and
Winter’s were relayed from Birmingham.104 This indicates that Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s
performances of Bach’s arias and cantatas taking place on the recital platform were highly
regarded by BBC programmers.
Silk, Suddaby and Baillie also performed the majority of broadcasts of Bach’s larger
choral works, delivering over 60% of the sopranos solos between them. This is hardly
surprising. As previously discussed, these women dominated the performances in England of
Bach’s larger works at festivals and choral societies and it was from these performances that
the majority of broadcasts were made. The fact that over a third of Bach’s soprano repertoire
was delivered by either Silk, Suddaby or Baillie indicates that not only did the English public
had ample opportunity to hear Bach, but also that they likely associated performances of his
repertoire with these women.
Alongside the BBC’s dedication to broadcasting Bach’s vocal repertoire, there were also a
significant number of broadcasts containing songs by early English composers. Unlike the
broadcasts of Bach, which for the most part clearly identify the specific works programmed,
records of broadcasts that included early English songs often did not name the exact
repertoire. Rather, they were either labelled as broadcasts of ‘early English songs’, ‘old
English songs’, ‘Elizabethan songs’ or a ‘Song Recital’ consisting of or including ‘old
English’, ‘early English’, ‘Elizabethan’ or ‘Jacobean’ songs.105 It was also common for early
English repertoire to be programmed alongside English folk song and songs by contemporary
English composers.106
On the rare occasion when repertoire was mentioned, songs by Purcell including ‘Nymphs
and Shepherds’, ‘Hark the echoing air’ and ‘When I am laid in earth’ and arrangements of
Elizabethan songs by Keel, Dolmetsch and Warlock appear to be the most popular. For
example, on 20 May 1924 Elsie Suddaby delivered a broadcast of ‘Elizabethan Songs
104
For Mary Hamlin and Kate Winter’s broadcasts of Bach see entries in the BBC Genome Project,
http://genome.ch.bbc.co.uk (accessed 3 February 2016).
105
The following Radio Times listing shows the variety of different ways in which early English songs
were identified to their readers. In all case only general information about repertoire is provided in the
broadcast synopsis. See, for example: ‘Dorothy Silk’, Radio Times 35 (1924): 13; ‘Gladys Palmer’,
Radio Times 95 (1925): 11; and ‘A Recital of Old English Music’, Radio Times 770 (1938): 25.
106
The following Radio Times entries state the broadcasts included early English music alongside with
folk songs or new English songs. No further details concerning repertoire are provided: ‘Recital of Old
and Modern English Songs’, Radio Times 49 (1924): 12; and ‘Essie Simpson (soprano), Radio Times
179 (1927): 31.
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Although it is difficult to draw further conclusions about the early English repertoire
broadcast from the BBC listings, as seen in Chapter Three a survey of Silk, Suddaby and
Baillie’s recital programmes and reviews show they frequently performed early English
repertoire, mainly Purcell and Elizabethan songs. This is essentially the same early English
repertoire programmed by the BBC and, as with the broadcasts of Bach, suggests the
Corporation recognised these women as exponents of early English music and favoured their
performances above those by other vocalists.
In addition to this, the BBC listings, together with programmes and reviews, show that
these women frequently paired early and new English songs. In October 1924, the reviewer
for the Liverpool Echo exclaimed that ‘the exquisite art of Miss Dorothy Silk’ was heard to
advantage in ‘four groups of songs, covering Bach and Handel, old and modern English, and
modern Russian’.108 Further evidence can be found in Silk’s recitals with the accompanist
Kathleen Markwell. Of the 15 recital programmes contained in the Markwell Collection at the
Royal College, nine include both early and new English songs.109 This type of programming
is also evident in the reviews of Suddaby and Baillie. In 1923, The Times, critic reviewing the
Morecambe Festival, declared that the
most happy thought was the engagement of Miss Elsie Suddaby to sing a dozen or so
of the finest English songs, ranging from the Elizabethans to composers of the present
day. The importance of this was greater than may appear at first sight. It is not only
that Miss Suddaby is a remarkable artist. I enjoyed her singing of Bach at
Bournemouth the other day, but I had no idea that she had the versatility to range
from the songs of Morley and Rosseter through those of Purcell and Arne to Parry,
Stanford, Vaughan Williams, and some by the quite modern men, and to do so, not
only with ease and command of style, but with a sympathy which made every one
107
‘Elsie Suddaby (Soprano)’, Radio Times 34 (1924): 11; ‘A Recital of Old English Music’, Radio
Times 307 (1929): 28; and ‘Isobel Baillie’, Radio Times 828 (1939): 32.
108
T. J. B., ‘A Morning Concert: Miss Dorothy Silk at the Bon Marche’, Liverpool Echo, 24 October
1924, press clipping, DSC, CH6Tb8, RCML.
109
See ‘Kathleen Markwell Collection’, RCML. Recital programmes by Silk and Markwell from this
collection can be found in ‘Programmes from the Kathleen Markwell Collection’ in Appendix B2:
Dorothy Silk’s Recital Programmes, 1912–40.
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realize at once what is the special beauty of each. And this was just what the festival
needed.110
Similarly, in 1936 the Evening Post reported that the ‘well-known soprano’ Isobel Baillie
sang ‘with unfailing artistry and sympathy’ in a programme that included
Two fine old songs in ‘Have you seen but a white Lillie grow?’ arranged by
Dolmetsch, and ‘O, ravishing delight,’ by Dr Arne [that] were invested with dainty
captivation, and the modern school of composition was represented by ‘Twilight
Fancies’ (Delius) and ‘Love’s Philosophy’ (Quilter).111
The list of Baillie’s recital repertoire contained in her autobiography also indicates that the
majority of the works she performed on the recital platform were English, ranging from
Purcell and Arne through to Parry, Harty and Holst.112 Although this repertoire appears to be
been an important aspect of the careers of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie (as will be discussed in
the following chapter), reviews suggest that the combination of early and new English song
also appealed to other artists. For example: in 1924 the Musical Times reported Dora
Labbette’s ‘refined singing of F. Keel’s Elizabethan Love Songs and some of Holst’s songs
for voice and violin’; in 1930 Marjory Harrison delivered a recital that included a section of
early English songs and a selection of Holst’s 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs; and in 1940 soprano
Margaret Field-Hyde gave a broadcast on the BBC Home Service of ‘English Songs Old and
New’.113
Overall, this indicates that, through broadcasts and recitals, the public was regularly given
the opportunity to hear early English songs, which were increasing programmed alongside
new English song. Unlike the varied repertoire of Bach heard by the public, the early English
repertoire programmed appears to have remained fairly limited over the 1920s and ’30s,
consistent with the small number of editions available at this time.
From 1923 the BBC was ‘an intrinsic player in the new music industry, setting new
standards and developing new trends as a powerful employer of musicians…[and] as a
disseminator of music repertoires – inevitably shaping new audiences’.114 This can be seen
through the ways in which the BBC actively programmed early music—in particular the vocal
110
From our Music Critic, ‘The Morecambe Festival’, The Times, 7 May 1923, 10.
111
‘Popular Celebrity Concerts. Isobel Baillie at Nottingham Bridgeway Hall’, Evening Post
(Nottingham), 10 February 1936, 4.
112
The majority of Baillie’s repertoire was by English composers as seen in ‘Appendix A: Repertoire
List’ in Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 147–55.
113
Herbert Thompson, ‘The Hereford Festival’, Musical Times 65, no. 980 (1924): 910; ‘Marjory
Harrison, Song Recital’, Wigmore Hall, 4 April 1930, Wigmore Hall Box, 1930, RCML; and ‘English
Songs Old and New’, Radio Times 856 (1940): 11.
114
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 17.
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repertoire of Bach—as part of its ongoing initiative to popularise ‘good’ music.115 The same
can be seen through the activities of festivals and choral societies. During the 1920s the
stagnant choral repertoire, which had prevailed for over a century, began to be questioned.
This resulted in a shift in programming to include the larger works of Bach together with
‘new and ancient scores’. As the music critic Ferruccio Bonavia (1877–1950) wrote in 1931,
this was a ‘great undertaking’ on the part of festivals and choral societies that required
‘courageous defiance of convenience and convention’.116 These two decidedly English
institutions provided a powerful platform for exposing the broader public to early music. This
was achieved through their associations with a small number of early music exponents,
particularly Dorothy Silk, Elsie Suddaby and Isobel Baillie, who provided a means of
connecting the revival of early music taking place on the recital platform to the long
established festivals and choral society tradition through to the technological advances of the
newly formed BBC.
115
Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 28.
116
F. B., ‘The Three Choirs Festival’, Musical Times 74, no. 1088 (1933): 941.
138
CHAPTER FIVE
‘ELIZABETHANS THROUGH TO THE PRESENT
DAY’: REVIVING AND REVITALISING
ENGLISH SONG
Henry Colles’s 1922 Musical Times article ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’
emphasises Silk’s dual position as an exponent of the both early and modern English
repertoire:
Miss Silk does not live wholly in the 17th century and she does not intend to be
restricted, as some artists have been restricted within barriers set up by their very
excellence in a special activity. Alongside her singing of old music she had done as
much in the field of modern English work which can fairly be compared to old
music in single-hearted feeling and freshness. She pays homage to Vaughan
Williams, Gustav Holst, Rutland Boughton and Armstrong Gibbs.1
Throughout Silk’s career she constantly engaged with both old and new English music,
regularly performing this repertoire on the recital platform and on radio. She also had a
number of close professional relationships with English composers, in particular Gustav Holst
who admired her pure vocal quality and modest stage presence; from 1916 he insisted on her
for performances of his music.2 The same can be said for both Suddaby and Baillie who also
1
C., ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 230.
2
Holst’s admiration of and preference for Silk is frequently expressed in letters. For instance, a letter to
the BBC’s Director of Music, Adrian Boult in 1931 stated ‘I’ve heard a rumour that the BBC tried to
139
Chapter Five
frequently performed old and new English music on the recital platform and radio. Suddaby,
for instance, was well unknown for programming English songs from the ‘Elizabethans
through the present day’. Over the course of their careers they also established close
relationships with English composers, including Vaughan Williams, Holst, Finzi and Harty,
and were regularly chosen to premiere new works. For example, Suddaby and Baillie were
specifically chosen as two of the original 16 soloists for Vaughan Williams’s Serenade to
Music.
As explored in the previous chapter, the programming of early and modern English song
was not unusual and had become increasingly prominent after the First World War. Colles’s
remarks suggest that this had something to do with the intrinsic ‘freshness’ of the modern
English work that invoked the spirit of earlier compositions. This idea was widely shared
amongst critics, who, after the war, frequently noted a profound and recent change in the
compositional direction of English composers. For instance, in a review of Holst’s Four
Songs for Voice and Violin in 1921, the critic for the Musician suggested that
Recently there has been, on the part of our younger musicians, a remarkable
movement back towards the earlier classics. The work of the sixteenth and
seventeenth century composers has made a new and powerful appeal to them, and
they have found themselves more in sympathy with the artistic ideas of those days
than with the formulae of the nineteenth century. There is much that is admired in
this, especially as regards English composers, who are right in trying to link
themselves up with our music before the Handelian era, that is to say with the period
that began with the earlier madrigalists and ended with Purcell.3
Despite the prevalence of such comments, no study has yet considered the extent to which
the revival of early English music influenced the musical direction and compositional style of
English composers after the First World War. This chapter will, therefore, begin with a brief
overview of the scholarly discourse surrounding English composition after the war, focusing
not only on the themes promoted by the so-called English Musical Renaissance but also
broader ideas surrounding musical modernism and its connection to early music. This will be
followed by close examination of musical commentary from this period, in particular the
proliferation of ideas concerning the revitalisation of English music through an engagement
with England’s musical past. It will then go on to explore the extent to which these ideas can
get Dorothy Silk to sing Savitri on Febr 13 but found that she was engaged. If it is not a) too late b) too
interfering would you consider altering the date? DS does it so beautifully’. Gustav Holst letter to
Adrian Boult, 13 January 1931, BBC Wrriten Archives Centre at Caversham, quoted in Michael Short,
Gustav Holst: The Man and his Music (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990), 296.
3
‘The Mediaeval Manner’, Musician, January 1921, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20, Holst
Birthplace Museum (HBM).
140
Chapter Five
be seen through the activities of Holst, focusing in particular on two song collections that
were associated with Silk.
Jonathan Clinch states that attempts to define either ‘modernism’ or ‘modern music’
during this early period of ‘reappraisal’ are difficult because the terms are ‘dangerously
vague’.6 Robert Scholes explains that the challenge centers on the paradoxical use of
terminology. This has arisen from the fact that ‘conventional accounts of Modernism have
been largely based on a century-old vocabulary of “apparently clear and simple binary
oppositions”—high versus low, old versus new’.7 As a consequence the modernist
movement—which is ‘far from simple and anything but clear’—has been limited to embrace
only that which is considered revolutionary or avant-garde. This does not, however, align
with the practice of modernist composers, who, as Edmund Johnson explains ‘were deeply
concerned with their forebears’. An example of this is seen in the ideas and works of Arnold
Schoenberg (1873–151) who ‘liberated dissonance’ while at the same time made ‘use of
atavistic forms’.8
4
Riley, ‘Introduction’, 2.
5
Riley, ‘Introduction’, 2.
6
Jonathan Clinch, ‘“Tunes all the way”? Romantic Modernism and the Piano Concerto of Herbert
Howells’, in The Music of Herbert Howells, ed. Phillip A. Cooke and David Mew (Woodbridge:
Boydell, 2013), 170.
7
Johnson, ‘Revival and Antiquation: Modernism’s Musical Past’, 16.
8
Johnson, ‘Revival and Antiquation’, 16.
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Chapter Five
Writing for the Carnegie United Kingdom Trust in 1916, H. C. Colles argued that English
composers were ‘handicapped by their ignorance’ of the musical past and compared the
aspiring composer to ‘a poet who has read only a few lines of Chaucer and Spenser and seen
11
only a few scenes of Shakespeare acted on the stage’. Referring to the music of Debussy,
which is ‘distinguishable from that of German or Italian composers because his style is
formed on the example of the old French Masters, Couperin and Rameau’, Colles proposed
that English composers schooled in the music of their countrymen should be able to cultivate
their own national musical style. Heartened by the activities of a few English composers,
Colles encouraged others of that generation to follow in their footsteps:
Without naming them I can venture to state positively that it has had an immediate
effect on their own productions, infusing a new vitality, giving a new form and
measure to their style of composition, which makes their voices instantly
12
distinguishable from those of their continental contemporaries.
Within a few years, this view was spreading amongst English musicians, composers and
commentators. Writing in 1919, the music critic Edwin Evans argued that the compositional
outlook of the next generation of English composers, headed by Vaughan Williams, was
founded on the two legacies of English musical heritage: the rediscovery of folk-song, which
embodies some ‘biological affinity between the characteristics of a race and the melodic
idiom’, and the restoration of old English music that ‘seek[s] to revive the glories of the past
9
Taruskin, ‘The Pastness of the Present and the Presence of the Past’, 140.
10
T. S., Eliot quoted in Taruskin, ‘The Pastness of the Present and the Presence of the Past’, 182.
11
H. C. Colles, ‘Notes on a Memorandoum concerning the Publication of Tudor and Elizabethan
Music. H. C. Colles, Musical Editor of the Times’, 16 May 1916, National Archive of Scotland,
GD/281/41/225.
12
Colles, ‘Notes on a Memorandoum’.
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Chapter Five
for the purpose of establishing continuity of tradition’.13 Evans specifically encourages the
revival of early music ‘as both an expression of…national spirit and for the sake of the
works’. He raises an important distinction, however, that modern composers should only draw
on the ‘spirit’ of this early music rather than the ‘quality of workmanship’.14
Musical commentators frequently argued that early English music was an ideal source of
inspiration because of its similarities with ‘modern’ music. Writing in 1921, Arkwright
observed that ‘the present revival…is favoured by musicians of the advanced school itself,
who, having destroyed the key system, find special value in the music which was written
15
before the key system was devised, or at any rate firmly established’. Colles agreed, stating
in 1928 that the
works of Byrd and even of Purcell might be included in the category [of modern
music] if they were not known to have been written some three hundred years ago.
They include melodies not referable to the major and minor scales and harmonic
expressions, which are strange to ears accustomed to the German classics ranging
16
from Handel to Brahms.
Composers were encouraged to focus their attention on the perceived ‘tradition’ of English
song, which was said to stretch from the time of the Elizabethans through to the present day.
The practical application of this idea is encapsulated in Edward J. Dent’s 1925 article ‘On the
Composition of English Song’ for Music & Letters.17 Dent proposes that, since the time of the
Elizabethans, song writing has been the English composer’s ‘whole-art’, and mastery of the
‘real technique of song-writing’ provides a means by which to revitalise ‘the whole style of
English musical composition’.18 For this to be achieved, Dent encouraged English composers
to draw upon the ‘historic’ mode of musical declamation—fostered by Lawes, Coleman and
19
Locke and perfected by Purcell—as the appropriate model for setting the English language.
Colles agreed, writing in 1928 that the whole ‘development of the English language in song in
which great men like Byrd, Weelkes, and Dowland, and small men like Merbecke, Campion,
and Lawes, all shared, led up to Purcell and was crowned by him’.20
13
Edwin Evans, ‘Modern British Composers (An Introductory Article)’, Musical Times 60, no. 911
(1919): 12.
14
Evans, ‘Modern British Composers, (An Introductory Article)’, 12. Evans continues this discussion
in eight further articles.
15
G. E. P. Arkwright, ‘A Note on Purcell’s Music’, Music & Letters 2, no. 2 (1921): 149.
16
H. C. Colles, Voice and Verse: A Study in English Song (London: Oxford University Press, 1928),
162.
17
Edward J. Dent, ‘On the Composition of English Songs’, Music & Letters 6, no. 3 (1925): 224–35.
18
Dent, ‘On the Composition of English Songs’, 225.
19
Dent, ‘On the Composition of English Songs’, 232.
20
Colles, Voice and Verse, 87.
143
Chapter Five
Recent work has begun to critique the image of Holst created by his daughter. Scholars
have revealed a number of important influences on Holst’s compositional development and
style, including the folk tradition, early music, modernism, eastern philosophy, Sanskrit and
cosmology.27 It is important to note, however, that these influences were by no means equal
and served different agendas. While Holst’s engagement with both eastern philosophy and
21
An interest and engagement in the musical past can be seen, for instance, through the activities,
writings and compositions of Vaughan Williams such as Fantasia on a theme of Thomas Tallis and the
Mass in G minor. See Alain Frogley and Aidan J. Thomson, ed., The Cambridge Companion to
Vaughan Williams (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013).
22
Scheer, ‘A direct and intimate realization’, 109.
23
Frogley and Thomson, ‘Introduction’, 1.
24
Scheer, ‘A direct and intimate realization’, 109.
25
Richard Greene, Gustav Holst and a Rhetoric of Musical Character (New York: Garland Publishing,
1994), 2.
26
Christopher M. Scheer, ‘Fin-de-Siècle Britain: Imperialism and Wagner in the Music of Gustav
Holst’, (PhD thesis, University of Michigan, 2007), 10.
27
See, for example, Richard Greene, ‘“As for opera I am bewildered’: Gustav Holst on the Fringe of
European Opera’, in Art and Ideology in European Opera: Essay in Honour of Julian Rushton, ed.
Rachel Cowgill, David Cooper and Clive Brown (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2010), 122–47.
144
Chapter Five
cosmology were very real, it was passing: Clifford Bax argues that once Holst ‘used up the
inspiration which it derived’ and works such as Savitri and The Planets were complete, ‘he
entirely lost interest in the subjects’.28 The folk tradition, early music and musical modernism,
however, continued to influence him throughout his life. Holst’s engagement with folk music
has been well documented in a number of studies,29 but, as with the majority of composers
active during the interwar years, there is no study dedicated to Holst’s considerable
involvement with early music through the supervision of performance editions, his significant
revivals of the music of Purcell, the building of an extensive personal collection of early
music scores and its potential influence on what critics frequently noted as his ‘modern’
compositional voice.
Holst’s engagement with early music was stimulated by the ideas and teachings of Parry
and Stanford—the first generation of composers of the English Musical Renaissance—at the
RCM. Exposure to early repertoire occurred in class, and both Parry and Stanford encouraged
their students to seek out performances of early music. Parry also encouraged students to
draw connections with their musical past. For instance, he saw the Anglican choral tradition
‘as a link between the Golden Age of the Renaissance and the present day’. Recalling the
education Holst and he received at the RCM, Vaughan Williams wrote:
We pupils of Parry, if we have been wise, inherited the great English choral
tradition which Tallis passed on to Byrd, Byrd to Gibbons, Gibbons to Purcell,
Purcell to Battishill and Greene, and they in turn to the Wesleys to Parry. He had
passed the torch to us and it is our duty to keep it alight.30
Although Battishill cannot be considered a ‘canonic’ composer, Parry was right to assert that
the continuous performing tradition within the Anglican Church provided a direct link to the
past. In doing so, he also contributed to the growing idea that the renewal of English music
could be fostered/developed/nurtured by an engagement with one’s musical heritage. This
concept appears to have had a significant impact on Holst and his fellow composers.
Holst’s first meaningful engagement with early music came in 1895 (his third year at the
RCM), when he was swept up in the enthusiasm of the Purcell bicentenary. The celebrations
included a commemoration service at Westminster Abbey on the anniversary of Purcell’s
death, a performance of the 1692 Ode to St Cecilia, a chamber recital by Dolmetsch on
‘authentic’ instruments, Parry’s Invocation set to Robert Bridges’s text ‘Ode to Music’
28
Clifford Bax, Ideas and People (London: Lovat Dickson, 1936), 54.
29
Karolyi, Modern British Music: The Second British Musical Renaissance; Imogen Holst, ‘Gustav
Holst’s Debt to Cecil Sharp’, Folk Music Journal 2, no. 5 (1974): 400–403.
30
Ralph Vaughan Williams, ‘A Musical Autobiography’, in National Music and Other Essays
(London: Oxford University Press, 1963), 182.
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Chapter Five
written to commemorate Purcell, and the first performance in modern times of Dido and
Aeneas, staged at the Royal Lyceum Theatre on 20 November and conducted by Stanford.
Along with Vaughan Williams, Holst was in the chorus.31 The bicentenary celebrations had
an overwhelming impact on Holst’s musical outlook; Michael Short believes it ignited Holst’s
lifelong love of Purcell’s music and fuelled his inquisitive mind to discover the Tudor and
Elizabethan repertoire.32
After leaving the RCM in 1898, Holst took up positions as a trombonist in the Carl Rosa
Opera Company and the Scottish Orchestra. His career as an orchestral musician lasted only
until 1903, when he took over from Vaughan Williams as music teacher at James Allen’s
Girls’ School. Two years later, Holst was made Director of Music at St Paul’s Girls’ School.
Short explains that this was an important shift in Holst’s musical career, as teaching went on
to occupy him for the rest of his life and ‘became as important to him as composition itself’.33
As an educator Holst engaged considerably with early music. He had very clear ideas
about the music curriculum he wished to teach at both schools. In a letter to a friend, written
in 1908, Holst stated:
I find the question of getting music for girls’ schools perfectly hopeless. I get reams
of twaddle sent to me periodically, and that is all the publishers seem to think is
suitable for girls. So I have had some di Lasso and Palestrina lithographed.34
He also produced editions and arrangements of madrigals and songs by composers such as
East, Byrd, and Gibbons and instrumental suites by Purcell and Bach for his pupils to play
and sing.35 Imogen Holst writes that these arrangements of ‘plainsong and…polyphonic music
of the sixteenth century’ had a significant impact of Holst’s compositional style.36 From these
works he learned about the simplicity and economy of the musical language, the use of modes
and rhythmic freedom.
In 1907 Holst was made Director of Music at Morley College for Working Men and
Women. Just as he had done at the girls’ schools, Holst changed the direction of the music
programme from a subject offered as entertainment to a well-rounded music education for
anyone willing to learn.37 At first the College’s authorities were not impressed by Holst’s
31
Herissone, ‘Performance History and Reception’, 348.
32
Short, Gustav Holst, 27.
33
Short, Gustav Holst, 50.
34
Imogen Holst, A Thematic Catalogue of Gustav Holst’s Music (London: Faber Music; G & I Holst
Ltd., 1974), 242.
35
Short, Gustav Holst, 104.
36
Imogen Holst, The Music of Gustav Holst (London: Oxford University Press, 1951), 20.
37
Ralph Vaughan Williams, ‘Gustav Holst: An Essay and A Notes’, in National Music and Other
Essays (London: Oxford University Press, 1934), 135.
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Chapter Five
overhaul of the ‘old’ music curriculum, as the ‘old’ students also left. Vaughan Williams
recalled there was an awkward moment when the past students had left and the new students
were yet to arrive, but this was soon forgotten when the ‘right’ students, as Holst called them,
started to grow in number.38 The new course consisted of music history lectures, performance
practice, private music tuition and an increase in the number of concerts presented by the
College. At these concerts, Holst discouraged the performance of nineteenth-century drawing-
room ballads and instead introduced he works of his favourite composers: ‘Palestrina,
Vittoria, the Elizabethans, and J. S. Bach’.39
While there were a number of ways Holst injected early music into the Morley curriculum,
his pioneering revivals of Purcell’s semi-operas—King Arthur in 1909 and The Fairy Queen
in 1911—had the greatest impact. Alan Gibbs’s article ‘Holst, Purcell and Morley’, published
in the Journal the of British Music Society, shows that Holst’s revivals of Purcell not only
positioned Morley College as what was described in the Observer as ‘the Purcellian centre of
the world’, but also had a significant impact on the popularisation and subsequent revivals of
Purcell’s music.40
In an article written for the Byrd Tercentenary celebrations in 1923, Holst singles out 1913
as an influential year in his own musical development. It was the year when the first volumes
of Edmund Fellowes’s English Madrigal School series were published. Holst later declared: ‘I
think I can say that since this event I have never been quite the same man’.41 Michael Short
writes that Holst’s increasing love of early music ‘began just as he was emerging from the
shades of Wagnerism, and the contrast of objective values of proportion and harmony against
the Romantic obsession with the whims of the individual artist provided a refreshing stimulus
for his own work’.42
Holst’s move away from Wagnerism and increasing interest in early music is captured
through his wartime activities at Thaxted Church in Essex. From 1915, Holst regularly
retreated to a small cottage in Thaxted for his health. This soon became a place of great
inspiration. Large sections of The Planets were written there, and Holst became close friends
with the vicar, Conrad Noel (1869–1942), who shared his socialist beliefs and interest in
38
Vaughan Williams, ‘Gustav Holst’, 135.
39
Short, Gustav Holst, 70.
40
Alan Gibbs, ‘Holst, Purcell and Morley’, Journal of British Music Society, 29 (2007): 29–34. See
also ‘The Composer of The Planets: Mr Holst and his Work’, Observer, 21 November 1920, press
clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20, HBM.
40
R. C., ‘New Way of Song’, Daily Mail, 15 December 1920, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
41
Gustav Holst, ‘The Tercentenary of Byrd and Weelkes’, Proceedings of the Musical Associations 49
(1922): 29–37.
42
Short, Gustav Holst, 115.
147
Chapter Five
English medievalism, ‘expressed through dance and music in and around the life of [Thaxted]
church’.43 They also shared an interest in pre-Reformation English liturgies. In 1914 Noel
introduced Old English worship by re-establishing the English plainsong tradition. Holst’s
interest in Old English worship had been fostered through his work on the English Hymnal
with Vaughan Williams. The influence can be seen to great effect in the Hymn of Jesus (1917)
where Holst makes use of the ‘Old English (Sarum) versions of the Vexilla Regis and Pange
Lingua melodies’.44
The musical life at Thaxted Church became an important outlet for Holst’s engagement
with early music. He became involved in the training of the choir, teaching them to sing Byrd
and Palestrina. Together, Holst and Noel came up with the idea of inviting Holst’s music
students from Morley College and St Paul’s Girls’ School to join the Thaxted Choir for a
Whitsun Festival. The first Whitsun Festival took place from 10 to 12 June 1916 (see Figure
20). Writing to Whittaker, Holst described the festival as a musical ‘feast’ that included ‘four
whole days of perpetual singing and playing’ either in church or impromptu in various
houses.45 The festival comprised of ‘Saturday rehearsals; Sunday morning People’s
Procession and Mass; Evening song followed by music; Monday repetition on Procession and
Mass; with music and folk-dancing breaking out at other times in parties, especially at the
Holsts’ home and the vicarage’.46
43
Alan Gibbs, Holst Among Friends (London: Thames Publishing, 2000), 67.
44
Gibbs, Holst Among Friends, 67.
45
Short, ed., Gustav Holst: Letters to W. G. Whittaker, 9.
46
Gibbs, Holst Among Friends, 70.
47
Gibbs, Holst Among Friends, illustration section between pages 97 and 98.
148
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Holst’s approach to music making—that ‘quantity [was] more important than quality’—is
captured in his repertoire choices and performance practice at Thaxted.48 Music for the church
service was predominantly by early composers including Purcell, Victoria, Lassus, Palestrina
and Bach. Holst insisted that the highest standard of music be available to all and valued
‘active participation’ over ‘passive appreciation’. He, therefore, did not hesitate to make
adjustments to the score if it meant the music was more accessible to a broader range of
musicians.49 In this Holst was clearly successful. Writing in 1916, Vaughan Williams stated:
‘I hear from my wife that all Thaxted is still singing Bach…I feel strongly that what you are
doing at Thaxted is the real thing’.50 Holst’s early music activities at Thaxted were by no
means common in England at this time. As he had done with the semi-operas of Purcell in
London, he was actively disseminating the music of the early English masters to a wider
audience.
This period at Thaxted was the stimulus for several of his works. The influence of
mediaeval poetry and the Tudor madrigals of Byrd and Weelkes can be seen in the
unaccompanied motet This have I done for my true love, the Six Choral Folk-Songs, the Four
Songs for Voice and Violin and, as mentioned earlier, the Hymn of Jesus. Although only three
Whitsun Festivals took place at Thaxted, the last in 1918, Holst remained active in the
musical life of the church and regularly returned to play the organ at Christmas. Holst went on
to host Whitsun Festivals at various locations in London, Canterbury, Chichester and Bosham
until his death in 1934. The early music repertoire established during the first years at
Thaxted continued to hold pride of place at the festivals that followed.51
During the First World War Holst went on to promote early English music in the most
unlikely place. Assessed as unfit for military service, Holst looked for other ways to serve his
country. In 1918 he took a position with the music section of the YMCA’s education
department. During this time, he organised and conducted music competition festivals in
Constantinople. Apart from Percy Grainger, the repertoire was entirely English and included
works by Byrd, Morley, Lawes, Purcell, Vaughan Williams and Elgar. Holst also persuaded
the YMCA to publish an English arrangement of Byrd’s three-part Mass that he and Jane
Joseph (1894–1929) had created for use in Thaxted Church. The arrangement could either be
sung by SSA or TTB and was consistent with Holst’s general goal of making this music as
accessible as possible. This is captured in a note included at the beginning of the arrangement:
48
Short, ed., Gustav Holst: Letters to W. G. Whittaker, 9.
49
Trend, The Music Makers, 108.
50
Vaughan Williams, Heirs and Rebels: Letters Written to Each Other and Occasional Writing on
Music by Ralph Vaughan Williams and Gustav Holst, ed. Ursula Vaughan Williams and Imogen Holst
(London; New York: Oxford University Press, 1959), 45.
51
See Gibbs, the ‘Holst’s Whitsun Festival’ repertoire tables in Holst Among Friends, 114–17.
149
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I write, ‘in the belief that our soldiers and sailors will learn to love singing and listening to
this masterpiece of English music’.52
After his return to England, Holst increasingly imparted his love of early English music
through lectures and articles on composers such as Byrd, Weelkes and Purcell.53 While some
felt he ‘went a little too far when he claimed that Purcell was a finer stage composer than
Wagner and was excelled in melody only by Mozart’, Michael Short writes that they let such
comments slide because of his sincere enthusiasm.54 In these lectures and articles, Holst also
told of a profound shift in the history of English music stating that ‘for the first time…we are
trying to learn to honour and appreciate our forefathers’. He went on to explain that the
revival of the Tudor madrigals and sacred music was having a positive effect on the younger
generation of composers and that England was ‘laying a sure foundation for our national
art’.55 In another lecture, given in 1926, Holst discusses Weelkes’s compositional style:
Nothing is so certain with Weelkes as the unexpected …Weelkes is the true English
artist. He is an individual as opposed to the Latin artist who tends to be a member of
a school, and as opposed to the unartistic Englishman whose thinking and feeling
are arranged for him by convention. There is nothing to suggest that Weelkes hated
conventionality. It simply did not exist for him.56
Richard Greene suggests that while Holst ‘speaks in favour of English music and encourages
his lecture audiences (and his students) to rediscover their English musical heritage, his
composition is directed by his own…character as an individualists and an experimenter’.57
This appears to have been noted by critics, who from 1920 increasingly mention the influence
of early music on Holst’s decidedly modern compositions. A typical example can be found in
Richard Capell’s 1926 sketch of Holst life and work:
The art of [Gustav Holst] attempts a large synthesis. It embraces elements from
England’s remoter musical past, together with a free choice from modern Europe.
No one before him had so strongly felt our traditional and our sixteenth and
52
Quoted in Short, Gustav Holst, 174.
53
Holst presented a number of lectures on ‘early music’ and English music. Most of the lectures do not
survive as Holst gave these from memory and, according to Imogen Holst, he only made short notes on
the subject matter. Articles written by Holst on the topic include: ‘A British School of Composers,’
Musical Herald, no. 810 (1915): 401; ‘The Tercentenary of Byrd and Weekles’, Proceedings of the
Musical Associations 49 (1922): 29–37; ‘My Favourite Tudor Composer,’ Midland Musicians 1, no. 1
(1926): 4–5; ‘Henry Purcell: The Dramatic Composer of England (1658–1695),’ in The Heritage of
Music ed. Hubert Foss, 144–150 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1927).
54
Short, Gustav Holst, 243.
55
‘England and her Music’, in Heirs and Rebels, 50–52.
56
Holst, ‘My Favourite Tudor Composer’, 4–5.
57
Greene, ‘As for opera I am bewildered’, 144.
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seventeenth century music as living influences while at the same time welcoming
any stimulation that was to be had from contemporaries.58
Considering the prevalence of such comments, it is interesting to consider the extent to which
Holst’s engagement with early music as a teacher, editor and writer permeated his
compositional style.
In his survey of early twentieth-century English song, Stephen Banfield notes that Holst’s
position in the history of English song is ‘curiously insubstantial’.59 During his lifetime Holst
established a reputation as a composer of large-scale works for orchestra, most notably The
Planets and those composed for choral festivals including Hymn for Jesus (1917) and the
Choral Symphony (1925). His output of solo song is not extensive and song-writing is
generally not seen to be at the heart of Holst’s compositional activities, unlike the songs of his
fellow composer and close friend Vaughan Williams. His early attempts have been largely
dismissed: Holst himself described them as ‘horrors’ steeped in Romantic sentimentality.60
Nevertheless, Holst produced a handful of collections of songs for solo voice. His most
notable works include the Six Songs for Baritone, Op. 15 (1903), Six Songs for Soprano, Op.
16 (1903), Nine Hymns from the Rig Veda, Op. 24 (1907–08), Four Songs for Voice and
Violin, Op. 35 (1916–17) and the 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, Op. 48 (1929). These works chart
the development of his style away from his early Romantic style to what Banfield describes as
his distinctive musical economy.61
Although Holst’s output of solo song was not substantial, the catalogue of his works
shows that he engaged continuously with the human voice. This was primarily influenced by
his various teaching positions and involvement in amateur music-making. Holst produced a
58
Richard Capell, ‘The Time and the Place: Introduction to a Sketch of Holst (Extract)’, Music &
Letters 7, no. 2 (1926): 150.
59
Stephen Banfield, Sensibility and English Song, Critical Studies of the Early 20th Century, No. 2
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), 334.
60
Imogen Holst, The Music of Gustav Holst, 1.
61
Banfield, Sensibility and English Song, 334.
151
Chapter Five
considerable number of arrangements of folk and early music and composed part-songs for
various voice combinations. Furthermore, the majority of Holst’s larger compositions—
including The Mystic Trumpeter (1904), Hecuba’s Lament (1911), The Hymn of Jesus (1917),
Savitri (1916), Choral Symphony (1925) and A Choral Fantasia (1930)—incorporate vocal
soloists and chorus. This continued interest in setting the voice and text to music, together
with the fact that the majority of his vocal works for soprano were performed by Silk,
indicates that Holst’s Four Songs for Voice and Violin and 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs are likely
representative of his wider compositional output and preferred sound and performance style.
The idea for Holst’s Four Songs for Voice and Violin came in 1916 when he happened upon
Morley student Christine Ratcliffe singing quietly in Thaxted Church to the accompaniment
of her violin. Sourcing the text from Mary Segar’s Medieval Anthology, published in 1915,
62
Holst composed the songs in 1916–17.
Although inspired by the amateur musical activities in Thaxted, these songs are not for the
amateur musician: as Imogen Holst noted, ‘the extreme economy of the writing makes the
most exacting demands on the singer and the player’.63 The most distinctive feature of the
four songs is their pseudo-medieval musical elements. Holst dispenses with regular metre,
and none have a key or time signature. Although bar lines are used, the length of each bar
varies according to the melodic line. This is likely influenced by the ‘irregularity and variety
of rhythm’ prominent in the works of Tudor composers such as Dowland and the debates
surrounding flexible barring in madrigal editions that were current at the time.64 Holst
frequently changes his approach to rhythm and metre when responding to the needs of the
text. He uses metres grouped in five or seven beats. Short writes that Holst felt this ideal for
setting English text, since the metre follows the natural pattern of the words.65 In addition to
his rhythmic freedom, modal melodies are used to create a plainsong-like quality. This effect
is clearly seen in the unaccompanied vocal passage at the beginning of ‘I sing of a maiden’
with its A Aeolian modality (see Example 1). Holst also makes reference to early harmonic
traditions through his implied use of the picardy third seen in the first, second and fourth
songs of the collection. This is achieved, for instance, in ‘Jesus sweet’, when the music,
predominantly in A Aeolian, moves to A Major in the final bars, reflecting the poet’s hopeful
62
Mary Seger, A Medieval Anthology, Being Lyrics and Other Short Poems Chiefly Religious (London,
1915); and Gustav Holst, Four Songs for Voice and Violin (London: J. & W. Chester, Ltd, 1920).
63
Imogen Holst, The Music of Gustav Holst, 57.
64
See Edmund Fellowes, ‘The Songs of Dowland’, Proceedings of the Musical Associations 56 (1929–
30): 8; Philip Heseltine, ‘On Editing Elizabethan Songs’, Musical Times 63, no. 953 (1922): 477–80;
and J. B. Trend, ‘The First English Song’, Music & Letters 9, no. 2 (1928): 111–28.
65
Short, Gustav Holst, 356.
152
Chapter Five
yearning to share in the company of Jesus in heaven (see Example 2). Pseudo-medieval
qualities are also evident in the changing relationship between the voice and violin. The voice
and violin are often equal through the use of countermelodies and descants. At other times the
vocal line takes on a recitative-like character supported by a drone-like sound on the violin.
This is most obvious in ‘My soul has nought but fire and ice’ (see Example 3). Although
medieval qualities are present, the success of these songs rests on Holst’s ability to refer to the
musical language of the past to create works that are entirely modern. In particular, one is
immediately struck by Holst’s musical economy; only the most necessary harmonic elements
are used creating a distinctly modern effect.
Example 1: Gustav Holst, ‘I sing of a maiden’, Four Songs for Voice and Violin, No. 1,
bb. 1–6.66
Example 2: Gustav Holst, ‘Jesu sweet’, Four Songs for Voice and Violin, No. 2, bb. 17–
21.67
66
Holst, Four Songs for Voice and Violin, 5.
67
Holst, Four Songs for Voice and Violin, 5.
153
Chapter Five
Example 3: Gustav Holst, ‘My soul has nought but fire and ice’, Four Songs for Voice
and Violin, No. 2, bb. 6–8.68
Published in 1920, the songs were immediately popular with performers and received
considerable attention from critics who frequently referred to them as Holst’s ‘Medieval
69
Songs’. Reviewers were quick to point out a plainsong-like quality in the music. The Daily
Mail declared that ‘Holst has broken the shackles of 300 years and regains liberty in the spirit
70
of the Roman plain-song’. Taking this observation one step further, the reviewer for the
Daily Telegraph argued that, unlike in the works of other composers, this influence
is no mere trick of adopting modal scales and free rhythms. By virtue of that genius
which is his, he rises far above mere scholarship and pedantry, and his music is
elemental where that of others who dabble in archaism is merely momentary and
71
foolish.
Critics also appeared eager to show how the ‘mediaeval’, plainsong-like quality was imbued
in the music. The Bradford Telegraph claimed the psalm-like quality was evident in the
‘double-stopping accompaniment on the violin’ and Daily Telegraph wrote that the ‘free
72
treatment without time-signature’ suggests the ‘manner of plain-chant’. These observations
were typically followed by claims that Holst had managed to forge a link with the musical
past. For instance, the Near East stated that in these songs Holst has ‘broken, not new ground
certainly, but the links that bind composers to the old ground; he has returned to the freedom
73
of the past’. While early influences were frequently noted, critics were also quick to qualify
that Holst was only drawing upon the ‘spirit’ of early music. A reviewer for Time and Tide
68
Holst, Four Songs for Voice and Violin, 4.
69
‘The Mediaeval Manner’, Musician, January 1921, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20, HBM.
70
R. C., ‘New Way of Song’, Daily Mail, 15 December 1920, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
71
‘Holst – And Others’, Daily Telegraph, 18 December 1920, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
72
Bradford Telegraph, 10 January 1920, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20, HBM.
73
Near East, 20 January 1921, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20, HBM.
154
Chapter Five
stated that the ‘Mediaeval’ songs increase ‘one’s admiration for Holst’s power to achieve the
serene beauty of old devotional music without any mechanical imitation of old methods’.74
The influence of early music is not the only characteristic noted by critics, who also
declared the songs’ new contributions to the genre. The Daily Mail wrote that Holst’s
The ‘new’ and ‘modern’ qualities of these songs were attributed to Holst’s musical economy.
The Daily Telegraph declared that ‘Probably more than any living composer, Holst has
mastered the art of elimination. …These are probably the most perfect things our generation
can show’.76
In addition to the ‘medieval’ and ‘modern’ musical features, the relationship between
music and text became a focal point for discussion. Arthur Newson declared in the Musician
that Holst created ‘absolute unity of expression’ between the words and music and that this is
in utter ‘accordance with the poetic idea’ of the text.77 The art of setting English verse was of
great interest to Holst. A possible reason for Holst’s fascination with finding the appropriate
musical setting for the English language lay in the general inadequacy of musical settings of
English texts. As a student, Holst had mainly been exposed to English translations of foreign
texts. Michael Short observes that ‘such translations were often of poor quality, the problem
of finding an exact musical counterpoint for the rhythms of English poetry rarely arose’.78
Edwin Evans recalls that this resulted in composers lacking the compositional tools to face
the difficulties of this problem.79 Holst captures the difficulties he faced and the positive
influence of Purcell in a letter to Whittaker in 1917:
I find that unconsciously I have been drawn for years towards discovering the (or a)
musical idiom of the English Musical Language. Never having managed to learn a
foreign language, songs always meant to me a peg of words on which to hang a tune.
74
‘No title’, Time and Tide, 4 February 1921, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20, HBM.
75
R. C., ‘New Way of Song’, Daily Mail, 15 December 1920, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
76
‘Holst – And Others’, Daily Telegraph, 18 December 1920, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
77
Arthur Newson, ‘A Musical Experiment: Holst’s Mediaeval Songs for Voice and Violin’, Musician
18 (1921): 120.
78
Short, Gustav Holst, 141.
79
Edwin Evans, ‘Gustav Holst’, Outlook 33, no. 842 (1914): 388.
155
Chapter Five
The great awakening came on hearing the [recitatives] in Purcell’s [Dido and
Aeneas]. Can you or anyone tell me how he managed straight away to write the only
80
really musical idiom of the English language we have yet had.
I didn’t get very far in Sita, which is good old Wagnerism bawling I fear. But in the
Rig Vedas matters improved and in the Cloud Messenger and Savitri especially the
latter, the words and music really grew together. Since then I’ve managed now and
then to do the same thing with other people’s words especially in the violin songs.
81
‘My Leman is so true’ is a good instance of a tune at one with the words.
Critics appear to have very clear ideas about the vocal and musical qualities necessary for
an ideal performance of Holst’s Four Songs for Voice and Violin. A review in the Musical
Opinion, stated that Holst’s songs are ‘going to make many a popular singer realise with a
pang that purity of tone, perfect control, a sense of rhythms and finish of phrasing are the
eternal fundamentals of the vocal art and not the mere stepping stones to declamation or
sentimental embroidery’.82 Similar ideas were also expressed by the music critic for Time and
Tide, who wrote that Holst’s songs would ‘be ruined by any singer who had not the
intelligence to throw ordinary rules to the winds. They require much the same treatment as
plainsong, their rhythm being not strict but free’.83
Holst clearly favoured Silk for performances of these songs. An undated letter by Holst in
the Ibbs and Tillett archive, most likely written in the first years of the 1920s and concerning
an upcoming performance of his Four Songs for Voice and Violin, reads: ‘I thank you very
heartily for consulting me on who should sing my songs. Personally I prefer Dorothy Silk to
anyone else’.84 Unfortunately, it has not been possible to locate any reviews of Silk
performing these works.
80
Michael Short, ed., Gustav Holst: Letters to W. G. Whittaker (University of Glasgow Press, 1974),
23.
81
Short, Letters to W. G. Whittaker, 23.
82
‘Concerts. Mildred Allingham and M. Dore’, Musical Opinion, February 1921, press clipping, Holst
folio, 1919–20, HBM.
83
‘No title’, Time and Tide, 4 February 1921, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20, HBM.
84
Quoted in Fifield, Ibbs and Tillett, 124.
156
Chapter Five
An examination of Holst’s 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, composed 13 years after the Four Songs
for Voice and Violin, reveals a number of interesting parallels between the two. Holst
composed these songs in 1929 as a farewell gift for his close friend, the Australian-born
publisher and patron of the arts, Louise Hanson-Dyer (1884–1962), who was leaving London
for Paris.85 Described by Scholes as one of the few notable contemporary musical patrons,
Hanson-Dyer had an unshakeable belief in the value of high culture and the motivation to
make it widely accessible.86 This is evidenced by her promotion of British and Australian
composers and the subsequent establishment of her pioneering publishing company Éditions
de l’Oiseau-Lyre in 1932, which became one of the world’s most renowned publishers of
scholarly musical editions.87 After being introduced to Holst by their mutual friend Whittaker,
Hanson-Dyer promoted Holst’s compositions throughout her life. During the 1920s she
introduced Savitri and The Planets to Australian audiences. She also published a catalogue of
Holst’s compositions and donated a complete set of his scores to the State Library of
Victoria.88 After Holst’s death in 1934 she continued to promote his legacy through her
publishing house, most obviously through the release of Edmund Rubbra’s biography of
Gustav Holst in 1947.89
Holst’s settings of poetry by Humbert Wolfe (1885–1940) were his first songs in 13 years
and the first songs with piano accompaniment in 20 years. It was decided that the songs
would be premiered at Hanson-Dyer’s Paris housewarming on 9 November 1929. As the
performance drew near, Holst and Hanson-Dyer exchanged letters concerning arrangements.
They initially considered two male singers, one of them the tenor Clive Carey, but quickly
decided that Silk should perform the songs, accompanied by Vally Lasker. Jim Davidson
reports that the housewarming was attended by an ‘extraordinary variety of well known
figures’ from the author James Joyce and the composer Francis Poulenc to the editor of the
Revue musicale, Henry Prunieres, and diplomats from the British Embassy.90 Ten of the 12
85
Louise Hanson-Dyer carried the family name of her first husband James Dyer from 1912 till
1939. In 1939 she took the name of her second husband Joseph Birch Hanson in addition to that of her
first husband.
86
Percy Scholes, quoted in Jim Davidson, Lyrebird Rising (Melbourne: Melbourne University Press,
1994), 2.
87
Orhan Memed and Maureen Fortey, ‘L’Oiseau-Lyre’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 8 September 2015).
88
Louise B. M. Dyer, Gustav Holst (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, [1931?]). For further
information see Daniela Kaleva, ‘The Gustav Holst and British Music Society of Victoria Collections
at the State Library of Victoria’, Fontes Artis Musicae 55, no. 1 (2008): 170–79.
89
Edmund Rubbra, Gustav Holst (Monaco: Lyrebird Press, 1947).
90
Davidson, Lyrebird Rising, 168.
157
Chapter Five
songs were performed, followed by two Bach arias (see Table 10). Despite admitting to being
‘somewhat nervous’, Holst wrote to his daughter,
It is not surprising Silk performed two Bach arias: she often paired ‘old’ and ‘new’ music, and
Holst and Hanson-Dyer also had a history of similar programming.92
Table 10: The Dream City, Louise Hanson-Dyer’s Paris housewarming programme, 9
November 1929. Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano) and Vally Lasker (accompanist).93
Three months later, on 5 February 1930, Silk performed 11 of the 12 songs at Wigmore
Hall, accompanied by her long-standing colleague Kathleen Markwell (1896–1973). The
concert was part of the Wednesday Evening Concert Series held at Wigmore Hall and the
91
Davidson, Lyrebird Rising, 172.
92
An example of this can be seen when Hanson-Dyer programmed the Australian premiere of Holst’s
chamber opera Savitri alongside Purcell’s Clorillo and his Phyllis in Melbourne in 1926.
93
‘The Dream City’, 9 November 1929, concert programme, RCML.
158
Chapter Five
programme also included Beethoven’s String Trio in C minor, op. 9, no. 3, and Schubert’s
String Quartet in C Major, op. 163.94
Banfield writes that Holst’s 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs are a ‘major achievement in
song…both for their composer and for his period’. He acknowledges, however, that ‘it is not
easy to sum up the relation of the Humbert Wolfe settings as a whole’.95 Although composed
as a collection and linked by Wolfe’s poetry, they are not a song-cycle. In fact, Holst leaves it
to the performer to decide the order. At first glance one is struck by the variety of musical
language and the lack of linking thematic material. In ‘The Thought’, ‘Things Lovelier’ and
‘Journey’s End’, pseudo-medieval qualities are present in the rhythmical but unmetrical
modal monodies of the vocal line partnered with drone-like semibreve accompaniments. In ‘A
Little Music’ and ‘Now in these Fairyland’ a more typical ‘classical’ idiom is expressed
through lyrical vocal lines and lilting accompaniment. This is juxtaposed against the austerity
of ‘Betelgeuse’, in which Michael Short identifies the musical language of The Planets in the
‘immensity of the ground-bass, a climbing figure repeatedly making great strides of fourths,
fifths and a seventh, all in a mysterious hush’ (see Example 4).96 Despite this variety, there is
nothing disjunct about this collection; they all share common factors.
Example 4: Gustav Holst, ‘Betelgeuse’, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, No. 12, bb. 1–6.97
94
This was the seventh concert of the ‘Wigmore Hall Wednesday Evening Concerts, Second Series –
1930’ for which Dorothy Silk was a committee member alongside Isolde Menges, Myra Hess, Ivor
James, Harold Samuel and Herbert Menges. See Appendix B3: Wednesday Evening Concerts at
Wigmore Hall, 1929–31.
95
Banfield, Sensibility and English Song, 337.
96
Short, Gustav Holst, 403.
97
Gustav Holst, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs (London: Augener, 1930), 45.
159
Chapter Five
The 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs are a perfect example of Holst’s musical economy. This is
seen most obviously in the piano part, which only assumes an accompanying role providing
the harmonic background, with little melodic material. Holst achieves this in a variety of
ways from the running arpeggio accompaniment in ‘Persephone’ to the recitative-like
character of ‘The Thought’. Generally speaking, the piano does not mimic the voice or text.
Holst, however, cannot resist Wolfe’s depiction of ‘an old thin clavichord’ and the toccatas of
Purcell in ‘The Floral Bandit’. He effortlessly produces a three-part invention, an explicit
reference to the contrapuntal aesthetic of the Baroque (see Example 5a and Example 5b).
The majority of the songs can be considered tonal to the extent that they require a key
signature. Modality is less evident in these songs than in the Four Songs for Voice and Violin
and many of Holst’s other works. That being said, it does make an appearance in a number of
the songs including the Mixolydian ending of ‘Envoi’ and the arpeggiated accompaniment in
‘Persephone’.
Example 5a: Gustav Holst, ‘The Floral Bandit’, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, No. 6, bb. 42–
Allegretto q = h
# j ‰ Œ
53.98
& œAllegretto Ó ‰ j
j j j j r r j
Voice q= h œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
# j arej litr- tler greenj
& œj8 ‰ Œ Ó ‰ Forj
j atj
œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
buds best
Voice
# œ œœœœ œ . are lit - tle greenj
& ‰ 8 œj œ œ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ
For buds at best
# ‰ j œ œ œœœœ œ. j
Piano
&# ! œ œ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ
& !w w
# una corda
Piano
& w w
una corda
# j r œr œj œ œ œ j j j j
& œ œ œ
J R R œ œ œ œ œj œj œj œ
# keysj onr anr oldj œ - viœ - chord, j onj - lyj hasj
& œ œ œ œ œ
J R R œ œ œ œ œ œj œj œj œ
thin cla that the one high tune
# keys œ œ
œ œ that œ œ œ hasœ œ theœ oneœ high
œ an old œ #œ œ œ œ
& œJ
8
J
on thin cla - vi - chord, on - ly tune
#8 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ #œ œ œ œ
& # œJ J
& w ‰ j œ œ œ œ œ œ
# œ œ œ #œ
& w ‰ j œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ #œ
98
Holst, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, 24.
160
2 Chapter Five
[Title]
# j j j j
j j œ œj ˙ Œ
& œ œ œ œ # œj œ œ
that, since the first, all springs have heard.
# œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ nœ œ œ œ ‰
& œ œ œ J
# j
& œ œ. j œ j œ # œœ
œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ
# ‰ j œj œ œ œ œ œœ r r j r œr œj œ œ. j
& œ J J R R œ œ œ œ J œ
And all first love with the same sighing tunes, though more sweet - ly touched, has
# œ œœœœ œ œ œ œœœœœ
" œœ˙ œ œœœ
8
&
#
j j ?œ œœ œ ˙
& #œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
[Title] œ
Score
[Composer]
9
# 5b: Henry Purcell, Toccata, bb. 20–23.
Example
# # # # # # #
99
# # # # # # #
&
# # # œ̇ œ
œœœ œ œœœœ œœ
9
# &# # # # # # #
œ ˙# # # œ# œ œ# œ œ # œ œ #œ
&
? # # # œœ œ œ œ œœœœœœœ ˙
# œœ œ œ œœ œ œ œ˙
?# ˙ Ó # # # # # # # # # # # # #
9
## œ œ œ œ ˙
& # !œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ !œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
? ### œœœ œœ œœ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙˙
œ ˙ œ ˙
##
These songs are also typical of Holst’s vocal writing. The settings are purely syllabic: none
contain
his approach to rhythm and metre in response to the needs of the text. He continues to favour
# in five or seven beats for the setting of English text. Another common device is
? ## " " " "
5
notes grouped
cross-rhythms, a technique commonly attributed to Renaissance composers. Holst has no
#
Henry# Purcell,
# " " "
99 9
&
‘Toccata’, in Henry Purcell Original Works for the Harpsichord, ed. William Barclay
Squire (London: J. & W. Chester), 11–12.
qualms about abandoning metrical division in the interest of verbal rhythm. This is seen
throughout ‘Things Lovelier’ and ‘The Thought’. Although ‘bar-lines are used for co-
ordination purposes the length of each bar varies according to the melodic line’ (see Example
6).100 Declamatory vocal style can also be seen in the songs such as ‘The Floral Bandit’. This
is often to transition between differing musical ideas and is reminiscent of similar transitions
found in Purcell’s vocal works.
Example 6: Gustav Holst, ‘Things Lovelier’, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, No. 2, bb. 5–7.101
#œ. œ œ œ œ bœ j œ œ bœ œ bœ ˙ œ œ bœ Œ
Voice & ‰ œJ J JJJ J œ œ b œ œJ
J J J
3
Nor air is an - y as mag - ic sha - ken as her breath in the first kiss ta - ken
& ! b b ww # ww
w
Piano
? ! & œ bw
w
While the Humbert Wolfe Songs lack binding thematic material—present, for instance, in
the pseudo-medieval qualities of the Four Songs for Voice and Violin—Holst’s variety of
! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
musical
4
language is not a flaw. Rather, it suggests that Holst felt comfortable combining early
music&
influences, conventional harmonic combinations and his increasingly austere approach
to harmony and form if it suited his purpose.
! performance
! of !Holst’s 12 !Humbert Wolfe
! Songs!at Wigmore
! Hall in 1930
!
4 8
&
The first public
received a favourable response from critics. A review in The Times considered ‘Miss Silk and
! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Miss 4Markwell [as] ideal interpreters’ of Holst’s songs.102 The critic for the Liverpool Post
&
declared that ‘Silk sang the songs in her style of passionless, almost childlike purity, and the
accompaniments, which needed the utmost discretion, were beautifully played by Miss
Kathleen Markwell’.103 The reviewer for the Observer agreed, writing that ‘Miss Silk,
accompanied by Miss Markwell, performed [Holst’s songs] in the easy, unobtrusive, careful
way one would wish for with songs heard for the first time’.104 Although Silk and Markwell’s
performance was regularly commented upon, critics focused their attention on describing
Holst’s new musical offering.
100
Short, Gustav Holst, 356.
101
Holst, 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, 11.
102
‘Recitals of the Week. Songs by Gustav Holst’, The Times, 7 February 1930, 12.
103
‘Songs by Host, A First Performance’, Liverpool Post, 6 February 1930, press clipping, Holst folio,
1919–20, HBM.
104
‘Wednesday Evening Concert’, Observer, 9 February 1930, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
162
Chapter Five
Despite the 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs being a clear progression in Holst’s compositional
style, they received strikingly similar responses to the Four Songs for Voice and Violin. A
review in the Sunday Times congratulated Holst on the ‘old’ quality of the music and his
ability to ‘throw back the thoughts of to-day into brain-cells, long since vacated, that evolved
105
[from] folk-song and the modes’. And Ernest Walker observed in the Monthly Musical
106
Record that the songs were a ‘throwback to the diaphony of a thousand years ago’.
Alongside references to archaic musical qualities, critics frequently mention Holst’s ‘new’
and ‘modern’ compositional voice. Edwin Evans declared in the Musical Times that Holst had
107
opened the gate to ‘a new type of song, capable of infinite variety’. There was also a
continued focus on Holst’s musical economy. A review in the Musical Opinion stated ‘the
songs mark another advance in [Holst’s] manner of economy of means…where nothing but
essentials have a place in the scheme’.108 While it was noted that Holst’s approach created a
‘remote and almost passionless’ final product, 109 critics agreed that these songs were
‘produced by a ripe artist who has learned to bridle both thought and craft’.110 Critics went
even further and declared them worthy contributions to the tradition of English song: the
111
Observer wrote that they were ‘important additions to modern English song writing’ and
the Monthly Musical Record claimed they were a ‘noteworthy…addition to the literature of
112
English music’.
As with the Four Songs for Voice and Violin, Holst’s setting of English verse was
frequently discussed. A review in The Times titled ‘Songs by Gustav Holst’ describes the
songs as ‘an essay in the subtle art of setting English verse’: Holst ‘never repeats words, never
allows himself more than one note to a syllable, [and] scarcely ever allows a note to prolong a
syllable beyond the natural time that it might occupy in a measured reading of the poem’.113 A
similar observation also appeared in the Manchester Guardian. The critic noted, however,
that Holst’s ‘excessive care for the natural fall of the words’ is achieved at the expense of the
105
‘Wednesday Evening Concert,’ Sunday Times, 9 February 1930, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–
20, HBM.
106
Ernest Walker, ‘Holst’s Harmonic Methods’, Monthly Music Record, 1 August 1930, 232.
107
Edwin Evan, ‘Gustav Holst September 21, 1874 – May 25, 1934’, Musical Times 75, no. 1097
(1934): 596.
108
‘Wednesday Evening Concerts’, Musical Opinion, March 1930, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–
20, HBM.
109
‘Wednesday Evening Concert’, Sunday Times, 9 February 1930, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–
20, HBM.
110
E. B., ‘New Songs by Holst’, Manchester Guardian, 7 February 1930, press clipping, Holst folio,
1919–20, HBM.
111
‘Wednesday Evening Concert’, Observer, 9 February 1931, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
112
Walker, ‘Holst’s Harmonic Methods’, 232.
113
‘Recitals of the Week. Songs by Gustav Holst’, The Times, 7 February 1930, 12.
163
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music. This flaw is attributed to the fact ‘that poet and composer can never be wholly at one if
both parties produce something that is vital in itself’.114 A second review published in The
Times, titled ‘Musicians and Poet’, agreed with the critic from Manchester Guardian.
Through a comparison Holst and Purcell’s approach to setting English verse, the reviewer
declared that the ‘greatest achievement’ of Holst’s songs is the ‘partnership between words
115
and music which was unstintingly generous in its recognition of the rights of the poet’.
Despite admiring Holst’s style, the author simultaneously views his compositional approach
to setting text as his greatest fault, stating ‘a song is not needed to tell us what the poet says
116
but what the musician feels about it’. This is contrasted to Purcell who the author states
117
‘respects the poet’ but turns poetry into music.
This comparison with Purcell is not surprising. As discussed, there was general consensus
amongst scholars, critics and musicians that Purcell had mastered the ‘musical idiom of the
English language’. Holst’s own admiration and engagement with Purcell had also remained a
118
central focus long after his 1917 letter to Whittaker recounting his ‘great awakening’. This
is illustrated, for instance, in the ‘Memoir’ of Silk, which reads:
Holst was one of Dorothy’s most fervent admirers. She went to Paris to give the first
performance of songs to words of Humbert Wolfe. They were unbelievably difficult
to sing and the scoring was very intricate. While learning them with Holst she
turned to him one day and said ‘Gustav, oh! Why did you make them so difficult’.
His answer is worth recording for it gives one his character; he said: ‘Dorothy, if I
could have made them simply I should have been a great man’. And then went on to
119
tell her wherein lay the greatness of Purcell.
This comment not only reaffirms Holst’s well-known admiration for Purcell but also
emphasises that he was not engaging with Purcell (or for that matter any other early
composer) in order to reproduce their musical language. Rather, as proposed by Colles, Holst
continuously strove to understand Purcell’s setting of text so to imbue his ‘modern’
compositional style with their ‘spirit’ and ‘essence’.
A survey of the musical language of Holst’s Four Songs for Voice and Violin and 12
Humbert Wolfe Songs shows that critics were right to perceive an early music influence in
114
E. B., ‘New Songs by Holst’, Manchester Guardian, 7 February 1930, press clipping, Holst folio,
1919–20, HBM.
115
‘Musicians and Poet. Songs New and Old’, The Times, 8 February 1930, 10.
116
‘Musicians and Poet’, 10.
117
‘Musicians and Poet’, 10.
118
Short, ed., Gustav Holst: Letters to W.G. Whittaker, 23.
119
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 27–8.
164
Chapter Five
Holst’s compositional style. Holst’s profound engagement with and understanding of early
repertoire was extensive. It permeated his musical style, informed his use of modes, rhythmic
freedom and the setting of English verse, and encouraged him to strive for simplicity in
structure and economy of language. There was nothing archaic and false in his music. Rather,
Holst was praised for his ability to capture the ‘spirit’ of England’s musical heritage while
pushing the boundaries of harmony and form and cultivating his distinctly modern musical
economy.
This nexus between the past and present, illustrated through Holst’s engagement with early
music, his compositional language and the performance of his repertoire by the leading early
music soprano indicates that the revival of early music had a profound impact on the direction
of English composition during this period. The past suggested a secure historical precedent
for English composers to re-imagine Englishness in music in the twentieth century. Vaughan
Williams’s appraisal of Holst beautifully captures the influence of early English music on
composers active after the First World War:
Holst was a ‘modern’ composer. I know the word ‘modern’ has been much abused,
but I would point out that there is all the difference in the world between music
which is modern and that which is ‘in the modern idiom’. The ‘modern idiom’
consists of a handful of clichés of instrumentation coupled with a harmonic texture
watered down from the writings of composers who flourished twenty-five years ago.
With this kind of thing Holst’s music has nothing to do; he does not serve up all the
harmonic tricks of the last quarter of a century, he does not introduce a ‘major ninth’
120
Imogen Holst, Gustav Holst: A Biography, 2nd ed. (London: Faber, 1981), 195.
165
Chapter Five
regularly every eight bars…he is not always making eight horns bellow out high D’s,
he owes much to Bach, to Purcell, to Byrd and to Wilbye; and yet or perhaps
121
therefore he is one of the few composers who can be called truly modern.
121
Vaughan Williams, ‘Gustav Holst’, 136.
166
CHAPTER SIX
‘THE GREAT ENGLISH SOPRANO’: DEFINING
THE EARLY MUSIC VOICE
George Moore’s 1898 novel Evelyn Innes offers an insightful and overlooked prospective on
the early music voice.1 Moore’s protagonist Evelyn is the only child of a Catholic organist
and instrument-maker dedicated to the revival of early music in England. Mr Innes, Evelyn’s
father, is a fictionalised portrait of the early music specialist Arnold Dolmetsch, who served
as unofficial music editor of Moore’s novel. The novel opens at the end of a ‘thin winter day’
to the sound of William Byrd’s ‘John, come kiss me now’ followed by Thomas Morley’s
‘Nancie’ played on the virginal.2 Evelyn, an instrumentalist and vocalist, seems destined to
spend her life singing early music in quiet country churches. Her life is utterly changed when
she meets Sir Owen Asher, a wealthy aristocrat and amateur musician who has just bought the
Wagnerian Review, in whose columns he plans to discuss Mr Innes’s innovations.
Asher is drawn to Evelyn’s performance of Purcell and her ability to pour ‘all her soul and
all the pure melody of her voice into this music’.3 He induces her to run off to Paris with him,
ostensibly in search of adequate musical training for her unusually good voice, but she also
1
The majority of studies examining Moore’s novel Evelyn Innes have focused on the prima donna and
Wagnerism. See, for example, Grace Kehler, ‘The Prima Donna in Moore’s Evelyn Innes’, in The Arts
of the Prima Donna in the Long Nineteenth Century, ed. Rachel Cowgill and Hilary Poriss (Oxford:
Oxford University Press), 147–66; and Christine Huguet, ‘The Prima Donna and the Covent: Border
Crossings in Evelyn Innes and Sister Teresa’, in George Moore: Across Borders, ed. Christine Huguet
and Fabienne Dabrigeon-Garcier (Amsterdam: Editions Rodopi, 2013), 16.
2
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 1–2.
3
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 137.
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Chapter Six
becomes his mistress. He takes her for an interview with the famous Madame Savelli, a
fictional representation of Mathilde Marchesi (1821–1913), the well-known nineteenth-
century voice teacher and proponent of the bel canto vocal method. For her audition Evelyn
sings the music she knows best: Purcell. Savelli, who upon hearing her exclaims ‘I’ve found a
star’, predicts serious study will lead to a great future in opera.4 In a short time Evelyn
becomes a famous Wagnerian soprano – a prima donna – but both her voice and character are
corrupted. This is illustrated through Evelyn’s transition from dutiful English daughter and
early music singer to Asher’s mistress and Wagnerian prima donna.
Evelyn herself comes to a realisation of this when she attends a church service towards the
end of the novel. Up in the loft, the choir of nuns sings plainchant. While she longs to join
them and sing this familiar music of her childhood—she cannot. Humming the plainchant
under her breath she is afraid of extinguishing the ‘pale’, ‘etiolated’ and ‘sexless voices’. She
recognises ‘how much of her life of passion and desire had entered into her voice and she was
shocked at its impurity’. It saddens her that she will ‘never be able to sing again…with the
same sexless grace as they did. Her voice would always be Evelyn Innes—Owen Asher’s
mistress’.5 This realisation results in Evelyn joining a convent in Moore’s sequel, Sister
Teresa.
While Evelyn was a fictitious character of the late 1890s, during the 1920s a generation of
English early music sopranos emerged embodying the attributes that Moore’s protagonist
Evelyn once possessed and then lost through her association with opera and disregard for her
English upbringing. Dorothy Silk, Elsie Suddaby and Isobel Baillie cultivated extraordinarily
successful and respectable careers as exponents of the early and English repertoire. They
developed long associations with the choral festivals and societies where they performed the
larger works of Handel and Bach. They were also recognised for their unique recital
programmes, which contained both early music and contemporary English song. Most
importantly they were seen as possessing the ideal voice, personality and image to interpret
the early repertoire. Critics regularly identified the combination of these attributes as key to
their success. For instance, in 1922 Colles wrote of Silk that
Jealous, exclusive barriers tumbled down at the sound of this dainty, fine singing.
…The fact is, that once you have heard this singer, you can be sure…that the things
sung are what the singer cares about; that taste here is a much bigger factor than
vanity. You come to count on this singing, whether it is at a cathedral festival or at
4
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 137.
5
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 453.
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Chapter Six
some out-of-the-way little celebration of the poetoe minores, for just expression,
fitness of degree [and] beauty in humility.6
The implied nexus between the voice, image and performance style of an artist in securing
their success for performance of certain types of music creates an intriguing avenue for study.
This chapter, therefore, will probe further the dichotomy between the ‘purity’ required of the
early music soprano and the stereotypical operatic prima donna established by Moore in
Evelyn Innes. The chapter will begin by exploring the image of the operatic prima donna in
Victorian England with reference to their position in society, associated characteristics and
repertoire. This will be followed by an examination of Silk’s musical and extra-musical
attributes including vocal quality, image, performance style and character to determine how
they contributed to her position as the ‘Great English Soprano’ for performances of early
music.7
When examining how the prima donna interacts and aligns with the above characteristics, it is
important, as Rupert Christiansen argues, to consider how their celebrity status, reception and
repertoire were shaped and articulated by the institutions and the society in which they
performed.9 As exemplified in the career of Evelyn Innes, these are particularly important
considerations when examining the prima donna in Victorian England.
Hyde explains that from the beginning of the nineteenth century, operatic prima donnas
descended on London in great number and commanded public attention. The vast majority
6
Colles, ‘British Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 229.
7
‘Dorothy Silk (the Great English Soprano) Song Recital’ at Town Hall Calne, 3 February 1926,
concert programme, Kathleen Markwell Collection 1922–34, RCML.
8
Cowgill and Poriss, ‘Introduction’, xxvi.
9
Rupert Christiansen, Prima Donna: A History (London: Bodley Head, 1984), 91.
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Chapter Six
were foreign, including: Marietta Alboni, Jennifer Lind, Pauline Lucca, Mathilde Marchesi,
Giuditta Pasta, Adelina Patti, Henriette Sontag, Zelia Trebelli and Pauline Viarbot.10 There
are several reasons why foreign singers came to England in such large numbers and why the
public welcomed them so openly. Firstly, opera was largely a foreign genre. By the nineteenth
century Italian opera was incredibility popular amongst the middle and upper classes.
Frederick Gye (1809–78) and James Mapleson (1830–1901) managed rival Italian opera
companies and dominated the English operatic scene. Gye, the manager at Covent Garden,
built the reputation that it still enjoys today, while over the course of three decades Mapleson
managed Drury Lane and Her Majesty’s Theatre.11 Both companies ‘attracted audiences of
superior social status (including royalty and nobility), and gave performances of the highest—
albeit sometimes compromised—standard available at the time’.12 Paul Rodmell’s Opera in
the British Isles shows that, in addition to these two dominant Italian opera companies,
London had at least four other less prominent companies, which together delivered a
staggering two hundred performances a year. Further afield, the provinces were served by at
least two touring companies.13 To meet the public demand for the operatic art form, foreign
composers and performers were imported. It was particularly necessary to import singers with
the required skill, as there was a lack of appropriate operatic training in England to meet the
vocal demands of the repertoire. As a result, ‘star’ singers from the Continent, in particular
Italy, were highly valued.14 This was coupled with the nineteenth-century obsession with the
exotic and cosmopolitan. As Marvin points out, the English saw opera as a ‘fantastical,
mystical and seductive’ art form and hiring foreign singers added to the ‘mystery’ of the
genre.15
Foreign singers were also attracted to England because there were the large sums of
money to be made. For a substantial portion of the nineteenth century, England was the
‘unchallenged supplier of the world’s goods, skills, and services’. While a third of the
population lived in poverty, the nation still experienced ‘unprecedented wealth’.16 The
concert-going public were prepared to pay high prices for opera and concert tickets,
10
Hyde, New-Found Voices, 24.
11
Harold Rosenthal, ‘Gye, Frederick’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 8 March 2016); and William Brooks and Harold
Rosenthal, ‘Mapleson, James Henry’, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com (accessed 8 March 2016).
12
Paul Rodmell, Opera in the British Isles, 1875–1918 (London: Ashgate Publishing, 2013), 6.
13
Rodmell, Opera in the British Isles, 1875–1918, 5–35.
14
Susan Rutherford, The Prima Donna and Opera (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006),
32.
15
Roberta Montemorra Marvin, ‘Idealizing the Prima Donna in Mid-Victorian London’, in The Arts of
the Prima Donna in the Long Nineteenth Century, ed. Rachel Cowgill and Hilary Poriss (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2012), 23.
16
Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worchester, 78.
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encouraging international singers to set their sights on London and benefit from huge fees for
a single performance.17 The London operatic scene was not the only avenue available to
singers for employment. At the end of each operatic season, provincial music festivals such as
Leeds, Liverpool, Norwich, Birmingham and the Three Choirs would engage ‘star’ singers to
perform sacred works in the cathedral (in particular the oratorio) and at miscellaneous
concerts held in secular venues.18 Prima donnas were therefore able to accrue considerable
wealth. With fame and fortune came independence and an elevation in social rank, but not
necessarily acceptance.19
This was particularly problematic for English middle- and upper-class women. A career in
opera was viewed as in conflict with Victorian notions of womanhood, embodied in the well-
explored concept of the ‘angel in the house’, which refers to the 1878 poem by Coventry
Patmore extolling the virtues of married life.24 The ideas presented in this poem elevated
women to the image of an angel, which was seen as carrying both religious and domestic
connotations. As Barger remarks, this concept is strangely disjointed, as the angel, who in
Christianity had historically ‘been portrayed as a male without boundaries was now a female
17
Fuller, ‘The Finest Voice of the Century’, 314.
18
Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worchester, 78.
19
Hyde, New-Found Voices, 25.
20
Gillett, Musical Women in England, 7.
21
Marvin, ‘Idealizing the Prima Donna’, 23.
22
Marvin, ‘Idealizing the Prima Donna’, 23.
23
Judith Barger, Elizabeth Stirling and the Musical Life of Female Organists in Nineteenth-Century
England (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), 27.
24
Coventry Patmore, The Angel in the House (London: G. Bell, 1878).
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Chapter Six
whose wings had been clipped’.25 Limited to the domestic sphere, the ‘angel in the house’
was viewed as the ideal genteel woman who exemplified ‘piety, purity and self-sacrifice,
putting the needs of her family before her own desires, the model of all that was good and
moral’ in the home.26
This greatly influenced the education of Victorian women. In the area of music education,
content was regularly influenced by non-musical questions, such as:
Will performance on this instrument detract from female beauty? What degree of
expressiveness is appropriate for a girl destined for a life that requires restraint and
self-effacement? Does the self-display of public performance unfit a woman for
marriage and motherhood?27
Furthermore, while musical proficiency was considered an important skill for middle and
upper class women, they were discouraged from attaining true artistry in music. Articles on
this topic were regularly found in ladies’ magazines and, as Gillett observes, drew upon the
cautionary language of Matilda Marian Pullan’s 1858 Victorian manual, Maternal Counsels
to a Daughter, which asked: ‘who would wish a wife or daughter, moving in private society,
to have attained such excellence in music as involves a life’s devotion to it?’28 To this Gillett
adds that ‘a high degree of expressiveness in a young amateur’s singing was often regarded
with uneasiness, a sentiment intensified by any hint that the performer might be
harboring…thoughts of “going on the stage”’.29
The intersection of music and fiction, especially involving female musicians, provides
excellent insights into nineteenth-century cultural and societal views. The disjunct nature of
the ideal English woman and the prima donna was explored in numerous Victorian novels. In
Jessie Fothergill’s The First Violin (1878), for example, the distinguished German conductor
and voice teacher Von Franciusit recommends the protagonist, May Wedderburn, study for a
career in opera. Her chaperone Miss Hallam responds with an attitude common in Victorian
society:
25
Barger, Elizabeth Stirling, 6. Barger draws on Nina Auerbach, Woman and the Demon: The Life of a
Victorian Myth (Cambridge; London: Harvard University Press, 1982), 70–72.
26
Barger, Elizabeth Stirling, 6.
27
Gillett, Musical Women in England, 6.
28
Matilda Marian Pullan, Maternal Counsels to a Daughter (London: Darton and Co, Holborn Hill,
1858), 81.
29
Gillett, Musical Women in England, 156.
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not for that class to which Miss Wedderburn belongs. Her father is a clergyman…
She may learn as much as she likes, but she will never be allowed to go upon the
stage.30
Edna Lyall’s Doreen (1894) highlights the disparity between society’s adulation of the prima
donna and its chastisement of the women who performed this role. Doreen’s fiancé, Max
Hereford, is torn between respecting his future wife’s decision not to leave the singing
profession—for ‘she would not have been the girl whom he loved and revered, had she done
so’—and troubled by the continuing male stares once Doreen becomes ‘his’.31 And, in
Moore’s Evelyn Innes, Evelyn realises the only way to return to her father without ‘suffer[ing]
all the disgrace’ would be to return as the ‘finest soprano voice in Europe and an engagement
to sing at Covent Garden at a salary of £400 a week’. After such success ‘the world would
deny that any violation of its rules had been committed; but to return after an escapade of a
week in Paris would be ruin’.32 Attitudes such as these presented great obstacles for English
women wanting to pursue a career in opera up until the First World War, although over the
century, a handful of English singers still managed to establish enviable reputations as leading
operatic sopranos, including Cecilia Davies (1750–1836), Nancy Storace (1765–1815),
Catherine Stephens (1794–1882), Eliza Salmon (1787–1849) and Clara Novello (1818–1908).
In most cases, however, these women came from a musical family and a career in opera was
not entirely unexpected.
Following the First World War, society’s attitude toward women shifted. In 1918, women
30 years and older were given the vote. Bland explains that following the war the ‘modern
woman’ emerged. She was described as a ‘figure found across all classes [who] represented
modernity, mobility, new opportunities, a brave new world, a break with the pre-war world of
chaperones, Victorian values and restrictive clothing’.33 Visually, this new ‘modern women’
had short hair, short skirts, dropped waistlines and a flat chest. Although there were concerns
that the ‘modern woman’, particularly those identified as ‘flapper girls’, were susceptible to
‘immorality’ which would bring about ‘the erosion of stability, particularly in relation to
gender relations and the family’, she was also able to assume a respectable position in
society.34 Bland explains, that ‘a new, refashioned ideal English woman’, came to be defined
30
Jessie Fothergill, The First Violin: A Novel (New York: R. F. Fenno and Co., 1877), 20.
31
Edna Lyall, Doreen: The Story of a Singer (London; New York: Longmans, Green and Co., 1894),
127.
32
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 132.
33
Bland explains in Modern Women on Trial that ‘the term “modern woman” was often used
interchangeably with “flapper” (although strictly the latter referred to girls and women too young to
vote and thus under thirty, while an older women could still be termed “modern”)’. Bland, Modern
Women on Trial, 3–4.
34
Bland, Modern Women on Trial, 4.
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by their ‘responsible and moral deployment of the suffrage’. Although political engagement
was encouraged, it was limited to the promotion of national pride. Generally speaking, the
ideal ‘modern woman’ was encouraged to be career-minded as long as she continued to
present an image of femininity that promoted domesticity and traditional gender roles.35
Although the 1920s was a period of increased liberation for women, ingrained negative
attitudes toward the operatic prima donna remained. While the public worshiped their voices
and dramatic expression, they continued to be associated with questionable morality. Ernest
Newman, in a review of Albani’s autobiography for the Birmingham Post, reduced the lives
of prima donnas to the following statement: ‘They were born, they learned to sing, they sang,
they made money and bought diamonds, they got Royalties to write in their autograph
albums, and they died’.36 And Harvey Grace, known for his anti-operatic prejudices, stated in
the Musical Times that ‘the prima donna’s attraction lay not in her voice but in the cult of
personality that surrounded her’.37 It is evident then, that the ideas and behaviours long
associated with the prima donna also remained prevalent after the First World War.38
A useful framework for examining the musical and extra-musical factors that led to Silk’s
success, and the ways that they were constructed as uniquely English, can be found in the
vocal treatise of acclaimed Victorian contralto, Charlotte Sainton-Dolby. In 1872, she
published Madame Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor for English Singers, as she realised her English
students lacked a ‘book of reference and authority’.41 Sainton-Dolby proclaims, that aside
35
Bland, Modern Women on Trial, 4.
36
Ernest Newman quoted, in Christiansen, Prima Donna, 2.
37
Feste, ‘Interludes’, Musical Times 60 (1919): 601.
38
Cowgill and Poriss, ‘Introduction’, xxvi.
39
‘“Bethlehem”. Its Revival at Church House’, Morning Post, 29 December 1924; and C., ‘British
Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, 229.
40
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, Daily Telegraph, n.d., press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
41
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor, 3. Sainton-Dolby’s treatise is divided into three sections:
‘The Formation, Production and Cultivation of the Voice’, ‘Expression, Style and Taste’ and ‘Songs
Selected from well known Oratorios and Ballads, Ancient and Modern’, with remarks on the correct
manner of interpretation.
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from the longevity of her career, the essence of her authority comes from being ‘English by
birth, English by education, English by heart’.42 She also explains that while her ‘exercises
are intended for the training of vocalists in all branches’, the purpose of her treatise is to ‘deal
chiefly with those most in vogue among English artists’: the oratorio and ballad. She goes on
to state that she ‘will leave it to others the task of preparation for the stage’.43
As explored in Chapter Four, the oratorio was widely regarded as an English genre.
Although encompassing foreign repertoire from the Baroque through to the Romantic period,
seen in particular through works such as Messiah and Elijah, Bull asserts that because of its
perceived national, religious and moral associations it ‘acquired a distinctly English stamp’.44
The ballad was also viewed as a distinctly English genre associated with national pride.
George Biddlecombe explains that the ballad’s English qualities were founded on its musical
simplicity, which, by extension, ‘bespoke honesty and transparency of expression’. As a
consequence, the genre was seen as ‘embodying the antithesis’ of the prima donna’s music
which was considered to be inherently virtuosic and, therefore, capable of ‘mask[ing]
insincerity or paucity of character’.45
The English qualities inherent in the oratorio and ballad, therefore, made it possible for
English singers, like Sainton-Dolby, to retain their respectability, unlike their operatic
counterparts who had to contend with society’s firmly held negative attitudes.46 An example
of this prejudice can be found in the plight of contralto Jessie Bond (1852–1942), who in
1878 was offered a role in Gilbert and Sullivan’s H. M. S. Pinafore by the opera manager
D’Oyly Carte (1844–1901). The following diary entry shows that Bond gave serious thought
to the social implications of accepting the role:
I had been trained in the strict conditions of concert and oratorio singing. Would not
such a change in my life mean social downfall, and would not my parents think I
had gone to perdition? I dared not tell them of Carte’s offer. I knew too well…how
strong their objections would be. But in my eyes the prospect was too dazzling.
…On the appointed morning I was in Mr. D’Oyly Carte’s office. He offered me an
engagement in his company, and without hesitation I signed a contract for three
years.47
42
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor, 3.
43
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor, 2.
44
Bull, ‘Reclaiming a Music for England’, 93.
45
George Biddlecombe, ‘Jenny Lind, Illustrations, Song and the Relationship between Prima Donna
and Public’, in The Idea of Art Music in a Commercial World, 1800–1930, ed. Christina Bashford and
Roberta Montemorra Marvin (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2016), 103.
46
Hyde, New-Found Voices, 14.
47
Jessie Bond, Life and Reminiscences (London: John Lane, 1930), 64.
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Chapter Six
Another example can be seen through the career of English contralto Clara Butt who, from
the turn of the century, achieved extraordinary success as a concert-hall and ballad singer.
Sophie Fuller explains in ‘The Finest Voice of the Century’ that as an exponent of this
repertoire Clara Butt maintained her respectability while still ‘attract[ing] a devoted and
admiring public’.48 It must be noted, however, that Sainton-Dolby, Jessie Bond and Clara Butt
were contraltos and that it took another 20 years for English sopranos, such as Silk, to replace
operatic prima donnas in the performance of oratorio.49
While both [opera and oratorio] exact an equal amount of dramatic power, the
difficulty of the Oratorio singer is far the greater, inasmuch as the same effect must
be produced without the aid of stage accessories; indeed, the expression in Oratorio
must not in any way partake of a stagey character. …A singer trained for the stage
will almost invariably overstep the line where religious feeling ends and theatrical
expression begins.51
And thirdly, the treatise has a continued focus on the maintenance of a pure and natural vocal
tone. She states that all English singers instructed in the oratorio and ballad repertoire must
perform with ‘pure and natural feeling’ and that every effort should be made to retain their
‘pure sound’.52 She goes on to explain that ‘to sustain a note equally and with a pure sound is
the gift of very few singers’ but it should always remain a constant goal.53
48
Fuller, ‘The Finest Voice of the Century’, 324.
49
Klein, ‘Carrie Tubb’, 387.
50
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor, 3.
51
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor, 4.
52
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor, 5.
53
Sainton-Dolby, Sainton-Dolby’s Tutor, 5.
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ENGLISH PURITY
The most oft-praised aspect of Silk’s voice was its ‘pure’, ‘angelic’ and ‘natural’ quality.
Comments such as ‘Silk’s voice was faultlessly pure’;54 and was something between ‘an angel
and a nightingale’ are typical.55 This pure quality was often perceived as being religious, with
reviewers claiming that Silk’s voice conveyed ‘just that mystical religious touch’.56 This pure
vocal quality was also seen as particularly suitable for early music. For example, in response
to Silk’s performance of Bach and early English repertoire in 1925, the critic for the Musical
News & Herald claimed that
Miss Dorothy Silk…has built for herself a very special type of reputation which
gives her quite a unique position among British singers. With a voice of an almost
sexless purity, almost boyish in its timbre, she has acquired a taste for, and a
mastery of, a cappella music, which is ethereal in its beauty and loveliness.57
It was also seen as particularly suitable for the festival and choral society repertoire, ranging
from the oratorios of Handel and larger works of Bach to the choral symphonies of Holst and
Vaughan Williams. At some point during the 1920s, for instance, R. S. W. declared in a
review of Elgar’s music, that ‘If I should ever write an oratorio…I think I should dedicate it
to Miss Dorothy Silk. Her singing has precisely that purity of tone and outline that oratorio
demands’.58 It was also noted that Silk’s pure vocal quality contrasted with the typical voice
of an operatic soprano, with Mrs Horace Clive recalling in 1942 that Silk was not ‘a prima
donna’s voice [that] echoed round vast halls – it is the memory of something quite small but
uniquely beautiful’.59 The anti-prima-donna qualities of Silk voice were instead considered to
be distinctly English, with critics declaring she possessed ‘the Voice of England’.60
Similarly, Suddaby and Baillie were also praised for possessing a pure vocal quality that
was perceived as ideal for the repertoire they performed. Monkman recalled, for instance, that
Suddaby ‘sounded angelic, her voice clear, pure and natural’.61 And Richard Capell wrote in
Grove’s Dictionary that Baillie possessed a ‘treble-like purity; “angelic” was sometimes
54
Birmingham Post, 22 April 1913 quoted in ‘Miss Dorothy Silk, Soprano. Extracts from Recent Press
Opinions’, Imperial Concert Agency promotional pamphlet n.d. [1913], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
55
Quoted in Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 19.
56
Country Express, 30 March 1912 quoted in ‘Miss Dorothy Silk, Soprano. Extracts from Recent Press
Opinions’, Imperial Concert Agency promotional pamphlet n.d. [1913], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
57
‘Dorothy Silk’s Art’, Musical News & Herald, 21 February 1925.
58
R. W. S., ‘The Elusive Elgar. An Exclusiveness that Chills. Mystery Man’, n.d. [1932], DSC
CH6Tb8, RCML.
59
Mrs Horace Clive, letter to The Times, [August 1942], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
60
‘The Voice of England’, n.d., [1927], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
61
Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 20.
177
Chapter Six
applied to it to suggest the effect, “not so much personal as brightly and serenely spiritual,
made by her soaring and equable tones”’.62
Pedagogues of Western art music describe vocal purity as a clear, bright and natural sound
with minimal vibrato. Vocal vibrato is defined as ‘pulsation of pitch usually accompanied
with synchronous pulsations of loudness and timbre’ that ‘gives a pleasing richness and
sensuality of tone’.63 Whatever the extent of its use in earlier times, vibrato became more
established in classical singing during the course of the nineteenth century as the increased
size of orchestras and concert halls required more powerful singing. As Gillett explains, the
use of vibrato was especially ‘marked in the singing of Wagnerian opera and in the late
operas of Verdi’.64 There appears, however, to be two schools of thought surrounding the
desirability of vibrato in England during the late nineteenth century. The presence of vocal
vibrato was strongly associated with Italian singing technique and opera.65 Foreign vocal
teachers such as Matilda Marchesi, who specialised in the Italian bel canto technique, trained
many of the most acclaimed opera singers of her day including Nellie Melba (1861–1931),
Emma Calve (1858–1942) and Blanche Marchesi (1863–1940). Reviews reveal that all these
operatic stars sang with varying degrees of vibrato.
62
Richard Capell quoted in Boden, Gloucester, Hereford, Worchester, 175.
63
Carl Seashore, quoted in James Stark, Bel Canto: A History of Vocal Pedagogy (Toronto; Buffalo:
University of Toronto Press, 1999), 122.
64
Gillett, Musical Women in England, 174.
65
Stark, Bel Canto: A History of Vocal Pedagogy, 137.
66
Esther Palliser, ‘How to Sing in Oratorio’, Girls Own Paper, 15, no. 719 (1893): 5.
67
John Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), 14.
68
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 137.
178
Chapter Six
prima donna, this vocal purity is lost, and instead replaced with a more fully resonant sound,
which Moore describes as ‘sex-laden’.69
By the twentieth century English music critics clearly identified a vibrato-free sound as
being particularly English. For example, in 1926 Klein explained that ‘vibrato was common
in Italy, but disagreeable to English ears’.70 Compton Mackenzie (1883–1973) expressed a
similar opinion in a collection of his reviews published in 1936. Describing the fundamental
difference between the perfect English sound and the continental sound associated with opera,
he writes ‘for the English ear the ideally beautiful sound is that which approaches as nearly as
possible the purity of the flute or woodwind instrument. The ideal sound for other countries is
based on string instruments’.71 Critics were also quick to critique the presence of vibrato in
the voice of an English singer. On one occasion Suddaby was told to ‘beware’ of vibrato
creeping into her voice.72 English singing teachers also shared this view. For instance, the
well-known music teacher F. C. Field-Hyde asserts in his vocal treatise, The Singing-Class
Teacher: His Principles and Methods, that the main objective is ‘to cultivate a pure vocal
quality’.73 The general public also regularly expressed a preference for a pure, vibrato-free
voice. Scholes explains that throughout the 1920s and ’30s the BBC received thousands of
complaints from listeners denunciating the use of ‘tremolo’ and ‘vibrato’. This prompted the
Musical Director, Percy Pitt, to state in 1931 that ‘efforts were continually being made to find
singers free of this fault’.74 These remarks suggest that since the nineteenth century there had
been strong association between a pure, vibrato-free sound – such as Silk’s – and English
musical taste.75
ENGLISH RESTRAINT
While Silk’s pure vocal tone was undoubtedly important in establishing her reputation, it is
not the only reason for her continued success. Such a retiring demeanour was often seen as a
disadvantage for women wishing to pursue operatic careers. Gillett, for example, explains that
69
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 433.
70
Klein, quoted in Stark, Bel Canto: A History of Vocal Pedagogy, 137.
71
Compton Mackenzie, A Musical Chair (London: Chatto and Windus, 1939), 272.
72
Auribus, ‘Wireless Notes, Musical Times 71, no. 1044 (1930): 132.
73
F. C. Field-Hyde, The Sing-ing Class Teacher: His Principles and Methods (London: Barber &
Songs Ltd, 1947), 133.
74
Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944, Vol 2, 798.
75
Another possible influence for a vibrato-free sound can be seen through the Anglican tradition of boy
choristers. Scholars have suggested that the Anglican tradition of choirboys influenced the reception of
vibrato in England because there has been a continued tradition of appreciation of the choirboys’ pure,
sexless and vibrato-free sound. See, for example, Christopher Page, ‘The English a cappella
Renaissance’, Early Music 21, no. 3 (1993): 453–72; and Peter Phillips, ‘The Golden Age Regained –
2’, Early Music 8 (1980): 3–16.
179
Chapter Six
Yet, like the contraltos of the nineteenth century, such as Sainton-Dolby, Silk, Suddaby
and Baillie managed to turn these very qualities to their advantage. Critics repeatedly aligned
Silk’s voice with her modest and self-effacing image and performance style. The most
frequently recurring themes in reviews, articles and interviews were Silk’s selfless approach
to music and her modest expression. This is captured, for example, in a 1926 review in the
Musical Times, which describes Silk’s performance of early music as ‘so purely musical, …so
loyal to the composer. Her influence will be all in favour of unforced tone, deep-felt but
modest expression, elegant phrasing and unselfish devotion to the music in hand’.78 As with
Silk’s pure voice, her modest performance style was perceived to be ideally suited to the
repertoire she performed. Campbell explains, for instance, that ‘opera has its stars and this is
popular today but few operatic stars shine equally bright in chamber music and oratorio.
Chamber music requires more than a beautiful, full and powerful voice – it requires intense
musicianship, perfect time and perfect elocution’.79 The value critics placed on this approach
to early music is evident on the rare occasions when Silk was seen to be stepping outside the
boundaries of her celebrated attributes. For example, after a concert at Wigmore Hall in 1924
a critic exclaimed that ‘it was very naughty of [Miss Silk] to finish up Purcell’s “Nymphs and
Shepherds” with a fly-away run to the top of the scale; but this kind of thing is something new
with Miss Silk, and the First Offenders Act may be invoked on this occasion’.80
This selfless approach to music and modest expression was also recognised in Suddaby
and Baillie’s performances. Critics regularly remarked upon Suddaby’s ‘calm, pure [and]
religious expression’ that was ‘replete with quiet charm’ and conveyed through her subdued
stage presence in which she would ‘stand quite still, perhaps sometimes swaying gently as she
76
Gillett, Musical Women in England, 145.
77
Musical Herald, 1 July 1899, quoted in Gillett, Musical Women in England, 146.
78
H. J. K., ‘London Concerts. Some Singers of the Month’, Musical Times 67, no. 996 (1926): 156.
79
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 3.
80
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’s Concert’, n.d. [March 1924], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
180
Chapter Six
became more and more absorbed by the music’.81 Critics also drew parallels between
Suddaby and Silk. Writing in 1923, a critic for the Musical Times explained that ‘in Miss
Suddaby’s recital we were reminded constantly and irresistibly of Miss Dorothy Silk. Both
are fastidious to a degree in their selection and arrangement of work as well as in its
execution, and each possesses in quite singular measure the quality of charm’.82 As with Silk,
they were also quick to criticise Suddaby if they felt her performance style did not correspond
with the music she performed. For instance, in 1932, the critic reviewing the Bach Choir’s
performance of St Matthew Passion admonished Suddaby who seemed ‘to have
momentarily…forgotten that…restrained feeling [is] the essence of Bach singing’.83 As
Baillie’s autobiography suggests, these women were probably aware of the specific
performance style required for the music they performed. Baillie stresses, that appropriate
‘deportment [was] of major importance’. She goes on to explain that
Deportment is not simply the manner in which a singer walks onto the concert
platform and conducts himself during the course of the performance. Deportment
also includes those long stretches in which you are not performing, as well as
encompassing your attitude to your fellow artists.84
81
Herman Klein, ‘Operatic and Foreign Songs’ Gramophone 7, no. 78 (1929): 246; ‘Miss Elsie
Suddaby’, The Times, 1 June 1980, 18; and Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 20.
82
‘Music in the Provinces’, Musical Times 64, no. 964 (1923): 432.
83
F. H., ‘London Concert’, Musical Times 73, no. 1070 (1932): 358.
84
Baillie, Never Louder than Lovely, 101.
85
Rutherford, The Prima Donna and Opera, 1815–1930, 54.
86
‘The Soprano who refused to give Encore’, n.d. [August 1942], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8,
RCML.
87
H. M. C., ‘Obituary, Miss Dorothy Silk’, The Times, 14 August 1942, 7.
88
H. M. C., ‘Obituary, Miss Dorothy Silk’, The Times, 14 August 1942, 7.
89
Cowgill and Poriss, ‘Introduction’, xxvi.
181
Chapter Six
review in the Continental Weekly in which the critic proclaimed that ‘Miss Silk is not one of
our “Star Celebrity” singers…she is a far better artiste than many of those personages. …Silk
say “Come to a Bach concert” or to a Purcell concert, not “Come to a Silk concert”’.90
While these qualities were almost universally praised, Leigh Henry (1889–1958), in a less
than flattering letter to the editor of the Musical Times, expressed a contrary view. Henry, a
conductor, writer on music and composer, was known to prefer the more avant-garde
performances of early music by individuals such as Dolmetsch rather than Silk’s mainstream
musical style:
Dorothy Silk’s singing is spiritually akin to the impulse which gives kudos to the
annotator before the creative spirit, which represents conventional authority before
inspiration, manner more than identify, which reduces even the most exquisite
things to the wholly negative and non-committal level of the mentality which we
designate socially middle-class.91
The emphasis critics placed on Silk’s selfless musicality and modest expression also aligned
with her modest appearance, which was continually described as ‘simple’ and ‘refined’.
Detailed descriptions of Silk’s modest attire were occasionally provided. For instance,
following a 1928 performance of the St John Passion, a review in the Oxford Times declared
that Silk’s rendition of the soprano solos would be ‘long remember [for their] beauty’.92 This
was followed by an account of Silk’s clothing, which was considered to compliment the
performance: ‘she wore a white frock with black trimmings, …pearl stud ear-rings and a
string of pearls’.93 Critics clearly admired the image Silk presented. In 1923, H. J. K.
described the ‘charmed picture’ Silk created on the concert platform; she was ‘slim, serious,
with a certain drooping grace’ reminiscent of Edward Burne-Jones’s (1833–98) paintings of
women.94 And in 1928 the critic for the Continental Weekly considered Silk’s modest
appearance to be ‘picturesque without being affected’.95 On occasion accounts of Silk’s image
also alluded to her perceived virginity. For instance, a critic for the Birmingham Review
observed that ‘in a purely aesthetic sense…[Silk] …can be described as chaste’.96 Similar
90
‘Musical Notes Miss Dorothy Silk’, Continental Weekly, 21 April 1928, 31.
91
Leigh Henry, ‘Sharps and Flats’, Musical Times 66, no. 987 (1925): 444.
92
‘Bach Choir at the Sheldonian’, Oxford Times, 17 February 1928.
93
‘Miss Dorothy Silk’, Oxford Times, 17 February 1928.
94
H. J. K., ‘A Charming Singer: Miss Dorothy Silk’s Concert, Star, 2 February 1923, press clipping,
DSC CH6Tb8, RCML. See, also, Fiona MacCarthy, The Last Pre-Raphaelite: Edward Burne-Jones
and the Victorian Imagination (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2012).
95
‘Music at the Casa del Mare’, Continental Weekly, 21 April 1928, 229.
96
A. J. S., Birmingham Review, n.d., press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
182
Chapter Six
remarks were often made in reference to Suddaby and Baillie’s appearance. Monkman
recalled, for instance, that Suddaby was a ‘delicate and appealing lady who always dressed
beautifully, yet quite simply’.97 And Baillie was frequently praised for her ‘simplicity of
style’ and her ‘utterly unaffected’ appearance.98
97
Quoted in Monkman, ‘Elsie Suddaby (1893–1980)’, 20.
98
D. T. ‘Noted Singers at Derby’, Daily Telegraph (Derby), 18 February 1939, 5.
99
Biddlecombe, ‘Jenny Lind, Illustrations, Song’, 90.
100
Biddlecombe, ‘Jenny Lind, Illustrations, Song’, 93. See also Irving Rein, Philip Kotler and Martin
Stoller, High Visibility: The Making and Marketing of Professionals into Celebrities (Lincolnwood, IL:
NTC Business Books, 1997); and Sean Redmond and Su Holmes ed., Stardom and Celebrity (Los
Angeles: SAGE Publications, 2007).
101
Biddlecombe, ‘Jenny Lind, Illustrations, Song’, 92. Biddlecombe is drawing on the ideas presented
by Gill Perry with Joseph Roach and Shearer West, The First Actresses: Nell Gwyn to Sarah Siddons
(London: National Portrait Gallery, 2011), 21–7.
102
For further description of the ideal ‘modern woman’, see Bland, Modern Women on Trial, 176–82;
and Bingham, Gender, Modernity, and the Popular Press in Inter-war Britain, 145–82.
183
Chapter Six
Figure 21: ‘Dorothy Silk’, photograph by Claude Harris, Regent Street, W. [1920s].103
Figure 22: ‘Dorothy Silk’, concert programme for the BBC Symphony Concerts Season
1930–31 at Queen’s Hall, 5 November 1930.104
103
Photograph of ‘Dorothy Silk’ by Claude Harris, Regent Street, W., reproduced in C., ‘British
Players and Singers: IV. Dorothy Silk’, between pages 229 and 230.
104
‘Dorothy Silk’, concert programme for the BBC Symphony Concerts Season 1930–31 at Queen’s
Hall, 5 November 1930, Queen’s Hall 1930 Aug–Dec, London: Queen’s Hall CH6Cd5, RCML.
184
Chapter Six
Figure 24: ‘Florence Austral’ as Brünnhilde in The Ring for British National Opera
Company, 1925.106
105
‘Florence Austral’, 1929, John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland,
http://bishop.slq.qld.gov.au (accessed 10 December 2016).
106
‘Florence Austral’, n.d. [1925], National Library of Australia, http://nla.gov.au/nla.obj-136535080
(accessed 10 December 2016).
185
Chapter Six
The modest appearance captured in the photographs of Silk contrasts with the images of
operatic prima donnas produced at the same time. This can be seen, for instance, in the
images of Florence Austral (1894–1968), who as Scholes notes, appeared on the London
scene at the same time as Silk.107 Although identified as a British soprano by Scholes, Austral
was in fact Australian. Born ten years after Silk, she came from a similar middle-class
background. Unlike Silk however, Austral was highly regarded as an exponent of Wagnerian
opera. The photographs of Austral circulated amongst the public depict glamour and allure. In
the image produced in 1929, for instance, Austral appears to be draped in opulent material
with one shoulder suggestively bare (see Figure 23). While this differs from the modest and
subdued images of Silk, Austral’s promotional photographs were consistent with the
glamourized image expected of an operatic prima donna.
Another characteristic typical in the promotional images of prima donnas was their
frequent depiction as operatic heroines, seen, for instance, in an image of Austral (see Figure
24). Gill Perry argues that images portraying ‘representations of a stage or pseudo-event’
remove the ‘real’ person from the artist’s constructed identity.108 The public, therefore, came
to associate the prima donna with the personas of their fictionalised characters, who in most
cases were perceived as fallen women with questionable morals.
Moore explores this perception of the prima donna in Evelyn Innes when he examines the
corruptive nature of opera, in particular Wagner. As Gillett explains, Evelyn’s sexual desires
intensify the more she enters ‘into her Wagnerian roles’. This is emphasised through a
comparison of Evelyn’s life with that of the nuns she visits at the convent. Upon reflection
Evelyn views ‘the “stage” and the sensuality of Wagner’s music as the primary agents of her
soul’s corruption’:109
Thinking of the poor sisters who lived in prayer and poverty… she remembered that
her life was given up to the portrayal of sensual emotion on the stage. She
remembered the fierce egotism of the stage—an egotism which pursued her into
every corner of her life. Compared with the lives of the poor sisters who had
renounced all that was base in them, her life was very base indeed. In her stage life
she was an agent of the sensual passion, not only with her voice, but with her arms,
her neck and hair, and every expression of her face.110
Silk’s physical attributes documented in reviews and photographs, on the other hand, were
seen as an expression of her true self, a modest, virginal and refined woman, thus reinforcing
107
Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944 Vol 1, 278.
108
Perry, The First Actresses, 27.
109
Gillett, Musical Women in England, 172.
110
Moore, Evelyn Innes, 328–29.
186
Chapter Six
the dichotomy between the purity of the early music soprano and the sexual and immoral
character of the operatic prima donna.
Although not known for her operatic performances, the importance of Silk’s modest image
and performance style in shaping her career is apparent through her rare forays into opera. As
noted in Chapter One, during the mid-1920s Silk performed to great acclaim in two English
chamber operas: Holst’s Savitri, where she performed the title role, a character embodying
‘love, sweetness and goodness’, and Boughton’s Bethlehem, in which she took the role of the
Virgin Mary.111 On both occasions she received effusive praise from critics, which focused
heavily on the perceived parallels between the singer and the role. The Times wrote that Silk’s
portrayal of Savitri suited ‘her voice and style of singing’,112 and the Weekly Dispatch stated
that ‘Miss Dorothy Silk’s acting and singing as the Virgin were a sheer harmony’.113 Critics
also admired her ‘mien’ and ‘chastity’114 and proclaimed that ‘in all England it would be hard
to find a singer who could take the part of the Virgin Mary so well as Miss Dorothy Silk’.115
Figure 25: Silk performing the role of the Virgin Mary in Rutland Boughton’s
Bethlehem, 1926.116
111
Quoted in Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 20.
112
‘Miss Dorothy Silk. Lyric Soprano’, The Times, 3 September 1942.
113
‘Nativity Play: Rutland Boughton’s setting of “Bethlehem”’, Weekly Dispatch, 28 December 1924.
114
‘Rutland Boughton’s Bethlehem’, n.d. [1927], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
115
‘“Bethlehem”, Mr. Boughton’s Nativity Play’, n.d. [1927], press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
116
Photograph of Silk as the Virgin Mary in Rutland Boughton’s Bethlehem, n.d. [December 1926],
press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
187
Chapter Six
Particular attention was also given to Silk’s modern costume in Bethlehem, with a review in
the Star declaring that ‘the beauty of Miss Dorothy Silk’s impersonation was almost more
appealing when we saw her in the clothes of a working woman of today’.117 As the
photograph indicates, the audience probably identified Silk’s performance as a reflection of
her own character (see Figure 25).
Silk’s only other stage appearance was in 1928, where she performed the role of village
maiden in a little-known opera by Schubert. Responding both to the poor English translation
and Silk’s performance, Ernest Newman expressed his criticism in rhyme:
At this time, she was at the height of her fame as a Bach singer and the act of, as Campbell
described it, ‘descending from her pedestal of serious-minded singer of Bach and oratorio…to
sing in a frivolous operetta’ did not sit well with the public.119 The most obvious reason is the
character being portrayed. While Silk received praise for her realisation of the Virgin Mary
and the pure wife Savitri, they found the role of ‘coquettish’ maid at odds with her virginal
and wholesome persona. There also appears to be a general consensus among critics that
while they tolerated and even admired her participation in English chamber opera, they did
not approve of her engagement with the potentially corrupting continental operatic tradition.
This suggests that Silk’s perceived distance from the operatic world, together with her pure
voice and modest character and image, strengthened her authority to perform early and
English music.
The critical reception of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s performances indicates that the ideal
English soprano embodied qualities propounded in the education of middle- and upper-class
girls, where artistic expression was achieved through repression of self. Although notions of
womanhood had evolved by the 1920s, modesty, respectability and national pride remained
vitally important. Drawing on Deborah Rohr’s ideas in The Careers of British Musicians, an
English soprano’s modest image and restrained performance style therefore ‘played an
important role in presenting her as an embodiment of the ideals both of femininity and
cultural nationalism’, the core values of the English middle-class concert audience.120 In the
case of the English sopranos that emerged after the First World War, the public admired their
117
‘“Bethlehem”, Mystery Play in Modern Dress’, Star, 21 December 1926.
118
E. N., ‘The Week’s Music’, Sunday Times, 17 June 1928, 7.
119
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 21.
120
Rohr, The Careers of British Musicians, 12.
188
Chapter Six
modest expression and physical attributes for the same reason they esteemed their pure
voices. These qualities were considered to be distinctly English and therefore resonated with
their adoring public. This is evident in the reviews of Silk, which constantly identify her
musical and extra-musical qualities as inherently English. For instance, following one of her
‘Concerts of Old Music’ in 1925, the critic for the Daily Mail wrote that
The tortoise-shell spectacled lady sitting beside me at Miss Dorothy Silk’s latest
‘Concerts of Old Music’ in the Wigmore Hall remarked to her German friend as she
looked at the crowded audience, ‘and you say the English are not musical people’.
Her foreign friend made no reply. Perhaps even in Germany the stale old notion that
the English are unmusical is beginning to be doubted. If there is still any uncertainty
on the matter foreign musicians should treat themselves to a concert of Miss Silk’s.
The performance on Tuesday evening was a splendid advertisement (if such were
needed) of both English music and English artistry.121
Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s perceived embodiment of Englishness expressed through the
combination of their pure voices and modest expression and physical attributes was integral in
shaping their careers. Presented and celebrated as the personification of Englishness these
women were esteemed by the English public whilst also maintaining their respectability.122
This was a rather extraordinary feat. Up until this point, leading soprano soloists, epitomised
by the stereotypical prima donna, were seen to be largely foreign, especially in comparison to
English temperament. Although they were the subjects of adoration, they were considered to
function outside society’s accepted behaviours. In contrast, the women who emerged as
exponents of early and English music following the First World War exemplified a new type
of soprano – the English soprano – whose qualities are beautifully captured in a short poem
written in response to Silk’s death in 1942:
121
‘A Musical People’, Daily Mail, 12 February 1925.
122
Hyde, New-Found Voices, 14.
123
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Final, 6.
189
CONCLUSION
In his collection of essays on National Music, Vaughan Williams claims that ‘Supreme art is
not a solitary phenomenon, its great achievements are the crest of the waves; it is the crest
which we delight to look on, but it is the driving force of the wave below that makes it
possible’.1 In a sense, this thesis has explored this idea: how a small group of forgotten
musicians helped shape English perceptions of early music following the First World War.
The careers of Dorothy Silk, Elsie Suddaby and Isobel Baillie illustrate the ways in which the
revival of early vocal music during the 1920s and ’30s became a vital part of mainstream
musical culture.
The first major conclusion reached in this thesis is that the revivalist activities of Silk,
Suddaby and Baillie were radically different from what came before. Looking back on the
long nineteenth century, Fuller-Maitland explained that it was generally believed ‘the only
good or original music to be found was either classical in its origin, or based, consciously or
unconsciously, on the patterns of that great and all-important period’. Performances of
‘ancient’ music were not common and were predominantly undertaken by a small group of
antiquarians who typically viewed the early repertoire as artefacts to be preserved.2 As an
increasing interest in England’s musical heritage emerged in the 1880s, so too did a small but
diversifying group of early music enthusiasts including not only scholars but also composers
and musicians. These revivalists were increasingly convinced that the early repertoires were
monuments of England’s national heritage that should be made known to the wider public.
Before the First World War, however, the revival of early music in England comprised of
disconnected groups of dissimilar practitioners and advocates, such as the Dolmetsches and
1
Vaughan Williams, National Music and Other Essays, 50.
2
Fuller-Maitland, A Door-Keeper of Music, 221.
190
Conclusion
the Chaplin sisters, whose activities did not often resonate with the mainstream concert
audience.3
The careers of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie show, however, that following the First World
War there was a change in the way in which early music was both performed and received by
the English public. From 1920, early vocal music was heard across a range of mainstream
platforms. This can be attributed to a number of factors. Following the war, traditional forums
of music making were restored with new vitality, and pioneering media for disseminating
music were emerging. As a consequence, there were increasingly frequent opportunities for
the English public to attend performances at concert and recital halls, participate in festivals
and choral societies and listen to music in their homes through the advent of sound recording
and the wireless. As suggested by Silk’s biographer Campbell, the post-war revitalisation of
the musical environment encouraged audiences to broaden their musical horizons, leading to
the performance and popularisation of previously forgotten and unfamiliar early repertoire.4
These forums formed the backbone of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s careers and were central
to exposing mainstream audiences, often for the first time, to unfamiliar music from the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Their repeated engagement with this repertoire
popularized early music amongst mainstream music lovers. It also encouraged other artists to
include the earlier repertoire in their recital programmes. Writing in response to Silk’s death
in 1942, for instance, the Musical Times proclaimed that ‘the modern vogue of Purcell’s
“Evening Hymn” and “Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation” took its rise from her singing’.5
Similarly, A. J. S. remarked in the Birmingham Review that ‘the great revival of interest in
Bach in this country owes more to her than any individual singer’.6 Reflecting on Silk’s
varied revivalist activities, Campbell argued that, having raised this early repertoire ‘from the
dust of oblivion’, she was responsible for this music finding its way to ‘the hearts and minds’
of the English public and establishing it within ‘the repertoire of many competent sopranos’.7
The second finding of this thesis is that mainstream audiences embraced unfamiliar early
music because it expressed qualities that appealed to English musical taste. The study of Silk,
Suddaby and Baillie’s repertoire has shown that they performed English music from the
Elizabethans through to the present day. For instance, Silk’s repertoire was once described as
‘largely English’; she sang the Elizabethans, Purcell and Lawes and ‘her recital programmes
3
Johnson, ‘Revival and Antiquation: Modernism’s Musical Past’, 3.
4
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Intro, 1.
5
‘Dorothy Silk’, Musical Times 83, no. 1196 (1942): 319.
6
A. J. S., Birmingham Review, n.d., press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
7
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, Body, 16.
191
Conclusion
included many modern British songs’.8 As illustrated in Chapters Four and Five, the English
repertoire performed by these sopranos was considered to be particularly amenable to what
were seen as essentially English characteristics: national pride, moral worthiness and religious
observance. This was particularly the case with the early English music. This is articulated by
Nellie Chaplin in 1922, who recalling the words of Parry, explained
All the Elizabethan and early Jacobean music, whether choral or instrumental, has a
national and consistent flavor—whether it is the kindly subtlety of Byrd, the nobility
and warmth of Orlando Gibbons, the geniality and humor of Morley, the tender
sweetness of Dowland or the fantastic ingenuity of John Bull, it always rings true
and is the direct outcome of the national temperament.9
The early English repertoire was therefore viewed as the ideal foundation from which truly
English contemporary composition could grow. English composers were encouraged to
engage with their musical past. This is evident in the critical reception of Holst’s Four Songs
for Voice and Violin and 12 Humbert Wolfe Songs, which were considered to be ‘important
additions to modern English’ composition because they captured the ‘spirit’ of England’s
musical heritage.10
The qualities that appealed to the English temperament were not just limited to English
music. As the reviews of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie show, national, moral and religious
qualities were also prevalent in the early repertoire more broadly. For example, reviews of
Silk’s ‘Concerts of Old Music’ frequently commented upon the ‘air of respectability
conveyed in…old music’,11 its ‘religious significance’,12 and that it spoke ‘directly to the
Englishman’.13 The oratorio was also seen to express qualities that appealed to English taste.
The oratorio came to be regarded as England’s ‘especial property…that form which embodies
at once the reverence, the dignity and the solidity of…our temperament’.14 During the
nineteenth century these qualities were primarily associated with Handel’s Messiah and
Mendelssohn’s Elijah. From 1920, however, they also came increasingly to be perceived in
Bach’s vocal music. Once again, this can be seen in the reviews of Silk, Suddaby and
Baillie’s performances, particularly those at festivals and choral societies. Critics regularly
8
‘Dorothy Silk’, Musical Times 83, no. 1196 (1942): 319.
9
Hubert Parry, quoted in Chaplin, ‘The Harpsichord’, 273.
10
‘Wednesday Evening Concert’, Observer, 9 February 1931, press clipping, Holst folio, 1919–20,
HBM.
11
M., ‘London Concerts, Old Music’, Musical Times 63, no. 951 (1922): 344.
12
Ernest Newman, ‘The World of Music. Recitals’, Sunday Times, 15 February 1925, 7.
13
A. J. S., Birmingham Review, n.d., press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
14
Henry Hiles, ‘English Music and English Orchestras’, Musical Opinion 14 (1891): 210.
192
Conclusion
noted that Bach’s music expressed ‘sense and virginal beauty’15 together with ‘national’ and
‘moral’ order.16 These were the qualities that resonated with English musical taste, and led to
Bach’s music ‘winning’ a place within mainstream music making.17 The previously
unfamiliar early music that was popularised by Silk, Suddaby and Baillie – whether English
or ‘English by adoption’ – was embraced by the wider English public because it expressed
just those qualities that appealed to national temperament.18
This brings us to the third major finding of this thesis, which ties together the various
factors that influenced Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s ability to introduce and popularise
unfamiliar music amongst mainstream music lovers.19 From 1920, Silk, Suddaby and Baillie
came to be regarded as celebrated yet respected singers. As documented in Chapter Six, this
was an extraordinary achievement, only possible because their defining attributes were seen
to be the antithesis of the operatic prima donna, who was typically foreign and battled against
society’s ingrained negative attitudes. Instead, Silk, Suddaby and Baillie exemplified a new
type of soprano – the English soprano – whose carefully constructed persona, pure voice and
modest expression were recognised as essentially English. The value placed on this
combination of attributes is evident through their wider promotion by critics. For instance, in
1925 a review in the Musical Times, asserted that ‘Miss Silk now has full recognition and
fame. This should be an encouragement to artistic singers who dislike the path of those who
make music serve them purely for self-display’.20
Although celebrated for pioneering a ‘new style of singing’, the characteristics that
secured their success were not new.21 English notions of purity present during the interwar
years were seeded in the Victorian era, demonstrated through Sainton-Dolby’s desired
requirements for a performance of oratorio and ballad and society’s conflicting relationship
with opera and the prima donna. This is perfectly captured in Moore’s Evelyn Innes, which
articulates the dichotomy between the purity required of the early music soprano and the
immorality associated with the stereotypical operatic prima donna. An examination of the
musical and extra-musical qualities that determined Silk, Suddaby and Baillie’s success as
English sopranos enriches our understanding of their revivalist activities during the interwar
years. Through their espousal of early repertoire, they projected a sound and image of the
revival that aligned with English musical taste. This resonated with the mainstream concert
15
‘A Great Bach Singer’, n.d., press clipping, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
16
Mackenzie, A Musical Chair, 50.
17
Scholes, The Mirror of Music 1844–1944, Vol 1, 74.
18
H. C. Colles, ‘St Michael’s Singers’, Musical Times 71, no. 1054 (1930): 1128.
19
‘Concert of Old Music’, Daily News, 2 February 1923.
20
‘London Concerts. Some Singers of the Month’, Musical Times 66, no. 986 (1925): 355.
21
Campbell, ‘The Complete Singer’, End, 1.
193
Conclusion
audience, encouraging the English public to embrace and appreciate the early repertoire
alongside the best of current musical endeavour.
***
Focusing on the careers of individual sopranos, this thesis has shown how a small number of
musicians were able to effect significant change by introducing unknown early vocal music to
mainstream concert audiences, shaping English perceptions of this repertoire during the
interwar years. This focus has in turn provided a means for understanding the various ways in
which early music was accessible to and understood by the English public and how the
revival was situated within broader musical life. The research process for this thesis has also
identified a number of areas that would merit further study. It would, for instance, be
beneficial to explore in more detail the revival of early choral music in secular settings from
1920. This was touched upon in Chapter One when discussing Silk’s membership of the New
English Singers from 1932. A study of vocal ensembles specialising in early repertoire would
provide a means to examine the extent to which the public were exposed to this music and if
the characteristics identified in this study as being associated with these solo performers were
also found in performances of early choral music. Another area that would complement this
research project would be the study of early instrumental music on the recital platform. In
Silk’s ‘Concerts of Old Music’ series, she engaged with a number of instrumentalists. It
would be interesting to investigate whether a comparable revival of early instrumental music
was also occurring on the recital platform. An examination of the differences between the
revival of English choral music, popularized by the long-established festival and choral
society traditions, and the instrumental repertoire has the potential to case light on the
direction of early music revivals in England. It would also be interesting to undertake a
broader study comparing similar revivalist activities taking place in France and Germany, in
particular ways in which cultural and national preference differentiate these movements.
This research also provides a platform from which to examine the revival of early music in
England following the Second World War. As noted in the Introduction, it is generally
assumed that this later revival sprang forth from nothing. This is particular evident in critical
responses to the career of early music soprano Emma Kirkby, whose performances of early
repertoire were seen as a new cultural phenomenon. In possession of a pure, angelic and
vibrato-less voice and a performance style and image that was considered to be ‘the antithesis
of the diva’, Kirkby was said to have ‘defined the voice of early music from the start of her
career’.22 As the activities of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie illustrate, however, she may have
22
‘Kirkby is Voice of the Anti-Diva’, Toronto Star 22 February 1998, 6; and Miriam Cosic, ‘Kirkby:
Queen of Early Music’, Sydney Morning Herald, 20 March 1996, 8.
194
Conclusion
defined them for a new generation, but she did not invent them. There existed a vibrant
culture for reviving early music in England during the interwar years. Furthermore, Kirkby’s
celebrated attributes were not new and were instead prevalent amongst early music sopranos
from 1920. This discovery casts a new light on the revival of early music in England
following the Second World War. It would be particularly interesting to examine the careers
of English early music sopranos who emerged after the war. Considering the similarities in
rhetoric and aesthetic preference evident in English responses to both Silk and Kirkby, such a
study would no doubt reveal a number of fascinating conclusions about the extent to which
the post-war revival aligned with or differed from what came before.
Similarly, in his article ‘Reflections on 50 years of Early Music’, Neal Zaslaw attributes
the heightened interest in early music to post-war politics and culture. Zaslaw suggests that
following the Second World War
Zaslaw goes on to assert that the post-war interest in older repertoire was also a response
to the fact that music of the Romantic period was so closely associated with the Wars: ‘one
can never quite forget, for instance, that Wagner—whose influence loomed over at least three
generations of composers—was Hitler’s favourite’.24 Although offering a number of avenues
for the further study, Zaslaw’s remarks reinforce the common belief that early music was
somehow invented following the Second World War. Paying little attention to earlier
activities has, however, limited current understandings of the post-war revival, which as
Robert P. Morgan claims ‘acquired the status of a major cultural phenomenon’.25 A study of
the post-war early music revival that was grounded in an informed understanding of its
interwar precursors would have the potential to provide a more nuanced and informed
understanding of why and how early music established an increasingly strong footing within
mainstream music making following war.
It would also be useful to investigate the role English institutions continued to play in the
post-war revival. The BBC remained an influential platform for the dissemination of music
following the Second World War. Exploring, for instance, how the BBC’s Third Programme
23
Neal Zaslaw, ‘Reflections on 50 years of Early Music’, Early Music 29 (2001): 6.
24
Zaslaw, ‘Reflections on 50 years of Early Music’, 6.
25
Morgan, ‘Current Musical Scene’, 57.
195
Conclusion
shaped the revival of early music during the post-war period would be particularly revealing.
Created in 1946 by a group of highly distinguished musicologists including Anthony Lewis
and Denis Stevens, the programme was pitched at ‘the alert and receptive listener, who is
willing to make an effort to select his programming in advance and then meet the performer
half-way by giving his whole attention to what is being broadcast’.26 Haskell observes that as
a result the programme and by extension the BBC ‘served as an adventurous showcase for
performers and scholars such as Alfred Deller, Denis Stevens and Thurston Dart’.27
As this thesis has shown, there are precursors to all of these events that need to be taken
into account. From 1920 unfamiliar and unknown early vocal music went from being
considered of purely historical interest to favoured by the mainstream concert audience. This
was largely possible because of the emergence of specialist early music sopranos whose
celebrated attributes were seen as the personification of Englishness. Silk, Suddaby and
Baillie’s distance from opera, together with their pure voices, self-effacing expression and
modest image resonated with the English public. The combination of these qualities, together
with their pioneering activities—including performances on the recital platform, their long
association with festivals and choral societies, frequent broadcasts with the BBC and their
relationships with contemporary English composers and their music—‘cultivated a taste for
music of the sixteenth to early eighteenth centuries’ amongst mainstream music lovers.28 In so
doing, they not only shaped the early music revival during the 1920s and ’30s, but also paved
the way for their successors to have international careers outside opera house. By examining
the revivalist activities of Silk, Suddaby and Baillie, this thesis has shown that a vibrant
revival of early music occurred during the interwars years and that contrary to common belief
Emma Kirkby was not the first ‘queen of early music’.29
26
Haskell, Early Music Revival, 108.
27
Haskell, ‘Early Music’.
28
‘Dorothy Silk’, Musical Times 83, no. 1196 (1942): 319.
29
Arthur Kaptainis, ‘The Reigning Queen of Early Music’, The Gazette, 18 February 2006, 2.
196
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APPENDIX A1
‘The kind of music that comes to the mind’s ear when rest and peace enter the soul after
long waiting’.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Editor’s Note .................................................................................................................... 231
Introduction...................................................................................................................... 232
Life and Career ................................................................................................................ 238
Memory and Reflections.................................................................................................. 253
Finale ............................................................................................................................... 255
230
Appendix A1
EDITOR’S NOTE
‘The Complete Singer – A Memoir of Dorothy Silk’ is an unpublished memoir located in the
Dorothy Silk Collection (CH6Tb8) at the Royal College of Music Library. Instead of copy-
editing this manuscript or regularly inserting ‘sic’, I have decided to provide a faithful
transcription of the manuscript. I have, however, inserted the section headings ‘Life and
Career’ and ‘Memory and Reflections’ as suggested by the author’s formatting, to help the
reader navigate the ‘Memoir’.
Rachel Landgren
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INTRODUCTION
This is a Memoir of Dorothy Silk – Bach singer born at Edgebaston May 4th 1883, and
died at Alvechurch Worcestershire July 30th, 1942.
A short story of her life and work may interest those of the older generation who gratefully
remember the beauty of her voice and inspired interpretation of the music she sang – and
those of the younger generation who love their Bach. During the years 1930–37 there was a
great revival of interest in old classical music. The Ballad Concerts had had their day;
wireless was bringing the works of the great masters into everybody’s home; young people
began to flock to hear Bach, Brahms and Beethoven. Which had previously been thought too
highbrow for the young – now became the only type of music they wished to hear. So the
stage was set, and an audience assured, for a singer who could give concert programmes of
classical music, especially when it was realised that hardly a single item in these programmes
had ever been heard in a London Concert Hall.
It was at this moment the stars ordained that a young singer named Dorothy Silk should
have completed the first part of her vocal training in Vienna and was now ready to gain more
experience from public appearances. How she became possessed of this wonderful collection
of old music, and how she gave it forth to the public will be told later. It was these concerts
which undoubtedly gave a tremendous stimulus to the newly born desire of a large section of
music lovers. And when, besides the little known Bach Cantatas, she re-introduced works of
composers 100 years earlier than Bach – such as Tunder, Schutz and Ritter, she was rightly
looked upon as a pioneer, and after the first series of concerts, – almost overnight – she
became an acknowledged authority on this period of music.
So many arias introduced and first sung by Dorothy Silk at these concerts are now heard
constantly. Sopranos of all kinds, good and bad include them in their programmes; wrestle
with their difficulties; give pleasure or pain according to their ability.
But it is quite fair to say – that since her death, no one has shown her interpretive powers
in this field of music – no one attained her ease and masterly fashion of singing the most
difficult phrases – so that her audience only realised the beauty of the music and not its
difficulty. Do many of the present day singers realise that but for her they might never have
had the chance of including these things in their programmes?
Two questions have frequently been put forward by those who remember her well.
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The first is ‘Why – if she was so unique – has the memory of all she did faded so quickly,
hardly living from one generation to the next?’
And the second question is ‘Why if she went so far did she not go further, so that her name
became known beyond these islands?’
The answer to the first question is not far to seek. There are fashions in music as in
everything else and there is no doubt, at the present time, that orchestral music draws larger
audiences and is therefore more popular than vocal. This generation has, as yet, produced no
Dorothy Silk in the more intimate field of vocal music. Opera has its stars and this is popular
to-day but few operatic stars shine equally brightly in chamber music and oratorio. Chamber
music requires more than a beautiful, full and powerful voice – it requires intense,
musicianship, perfect timing – perfect elocution and in Bach particularly a technique which
can completely master difficult phrases and so keep the perform time.
An interesting experience was one tried at a Three Choirs Festival, when the Conductor
thought that volume of sound and dramatic ability could electrify the old Messiah and Elijah.
But the rehearsals were so disastrous (even to the final rehearsal in the Cathedral itself when
one of the stars got up and walked off the platform) that at the eleventh hour drastic changes
were made.
For the Conductor’s beat must be followed more precisely in an oratorio than in an opera.
Spiritual interpretation must be conveyed without it losing a fraction of the beat. Tradition
must be followed and personality subdued – just as emotion plays little part in a Bach aria.
The answer to the second question as to ‘Why if she was so outstanding was her work not
known farther afield?’ is clear to those who knew that intensely loveable and complex soul,
and will become clear to those who read this little life on who never wished to be a star – and
who only by a mischance as it were – found herself a public character.
Dorothy was perhaps fortunate in her childhood and early years. She grew up during the
time when the world around still felt more or less secure when wars and rumours of wars
were something remote from everyday existence; she was one of the last generation and
stratum of society to experience any feeling of security and solidity in life and it may have
helped the steady development to ripeness of a delicate talent otherwise prone to be crushed
or stunted by a restless, insecure background.
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Her father was a vital, not to say overwhelming character and was inclined to rule his
family with the Victorian rod of iron – kindly but strict withal. He was by no means narrow in
his views, being a Liberal in every sense of the work and he had great belief in opportunities
for all, even extending to good all-round education for women, not by any means a generally
accepted point of view in those days. But when it came to applying those ideas to his own
family his notions narrowed down considerably, and Dorothy and her sisters were sent as a
matter of course to an ordinary day-school where merely the conventional subject were
taught. Her musical and vocal talent were obvious from the first (in fact her initial
appearance as singer was at the tender age of four at some local function) and he made no
attempt to stand in the way of their development in so far as that was possible within the
limits a provincial town imposed. It was not until she was grown-up and in her early twenties
that he came to the conclusion that they should be given wider scope and opportunity.
He was a remarkable man in many ways and the story of his marriage is interesting for the
bearing it has upon Dorothy’s character. He and his brother had known Dorothy’s mother for
many years and she seemed equally attached to both of them. John, his brother was the
quieter and more retiring personality of the two and William, Dorothy’s father, may perhaps
have taken it for granted that Mrs. Silk (as she was to become) would eventually marry him –
William. Events caused him to be sent to America for some months and when he returned he
found his future wife engaged to be married to his brother John. It was not till then that he
realized how deeply he loved her and by then it appeared to be too late, for it was unthinkable
that a Victorian engagement should be broken off. The couple were married and Dorothy’s
mother became Mrs. John Silk and bore him two sons. Meanwhile she and William continued
devoted to one another and their affection increased rather than diminished in spite of the fact
of her marriage to his brother. John must have been of a very sweet and tolerant disposition,
for no sign of jealousy was ever apparent and they all three lived very close and intimate
lives. Mrs Silk was too kindly a person every willingly to injure another but Fate worked for
the two lovers and John died, leaving it as his express wish that William should care for his
widow. According to English law at that time her could not marry her owing to the ban upon
marrying a deceased brother’s widow, but their affection was such that they were willing to
run counter to the accepted Victorian law and conventions and they went to Switzerland and
were married there. They then came back to England and recommenced the life of a typical
family of that time. William bought up his two nephews, now his step-sons, and five children
were born – two boys who died young and three girls of whom Dorothy was the last.
An influence on Dorothy’s growing years when impressions are most easily and lastingly
received, was that of a friend of the family, Ion Atkins. He and his bother and sister were a
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united trio whose interests were identical. They would nowadays be called ‘dilettanti’ or
‘intellectuals’ – terms which in those times of mass unoriginality of mind have somewhat lost
their best meaning and become derogatory labels applied to those whose interests and attitude
of mind differ from the common run of people. Ion Atkins was an intellectual in the best
sense of the word – widely read and interested in a variety of subjects, particularly the beauty
and use of words. He was attached to the whole Silk family, but especially devoted to
Dorothy in whom he apprehended the possibilities of so sensitive a nature. He turned her
mind in the direction of thought and meditation upon the best in our English language, which
gave her early a selective and critical sense of the value of words and the rhythm of poetry
which stood her in good stead in later years making her reject automatically the second-rate in
her choice of songs.
Hugh Morton, who later became President of the Birmingham University, was also
influential in giving her a wide appreciation of things artistic (Tickets for concerts and
lectures were within his gift) and the affection he had for her had many practical applications.
Here is perhaps the moment to stress the strong and pervasive influence of her father upon
Dorothy’s character and later development. It is difficult in these days, when the ‘rights of
youth’ are so much to the fore in people’s thoughts, to realise how deeply the personality and
supreme authority of ones elder member of a family can affect not only the atmosphere of the
house but the lives and characters of the people in close contact with the personality. Mr Silk
was not a hard or unjust man – indeed outside his family circle he was the kindest and most
generous of friends. Perhaps he was typical of many of his age and generation but his
dominance and assumption that his was the ruling spirit, and the tacit assumption his wife and
daughters can hardly have failed to react upon Dorothy’s sensitive – one must say too
sensitive – temperament. It says much, not only for the essential sweetness and buoyancy of
her nature, but also for the determination and need in her to fulfil her talent for singing, that
her spirit was not dulled or in any way crushed by an over-dominating father – she who
always vibrated like a tuned violin-string to the slightest pressure of atmosphere.
Fortunately for her, events moved in the right direction; when Mr Silk retired from
business his desire from some kind of change coincided with Dorothy’s now obviously
outstanding and developing talent. He sought the advice of Mr. Ernest Newman, then musical
critic of one of the Birmingham newspapers, and also Dr. Lierhammer, both of whom had
heard her sing at local functions. They strongly advised further study for her, preferably
abroad, as she had already gone far beyond the point where any teaching near her home could
help her.
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Appendix A1
So on this advice, and following his own inclination for change Mr Silk decided that the
whole family should go to Vienna, with the excellent reason and excuse, if excuse were
needed, of Dorothy’s vocal studies. Thither they all migrated in 1904, and Dorothy began her
lessons with Professor Ress.
Like many young people with an enthusiastic and absorbing interest in their one chosen art
or profession, Dorothy was anxious to run before she could walk. She had progressed far
enough to be full of interest in and desire to be coached in, the wonderful range of German
lieder – Schubert Schumann, Brahms, Wolf. Professor Ress was a wise and also a strict
teacher anyone less far-seeing might have given way to this desire, and the obvious intense
musical feeling and understanding that inspired it, and let her begin work on lieder at once,
which would probably have done irrevocable damage to a young voice of such delicate
texture. He, however, refused to consider seriously any of her efforts to sing lieder and kept
her firmly to voice – production, exercises and the strict schooling of bel-canto and
coloratura. ‘He would listen to my singing of Brahms or Wolfe without interest and then
(ruefully!) turn me back to “Una Voce Poco Fa”!’.
It must also have been an excellent exercise in patience and discipline to her eager, ardent
spirit1 But she and her future audiences came to be grateful for it. Such beauty of line and
phrasing such purity and flexibility are only achieved in a hard school and that she
experienced in Vienna during those two years. It was not all vocal drudgery: anyone with an
interest in music who and studied in Vienna for however short a time, knows the joy of being
in that city, saturated as it was with the love of music: where everyone's interest in music, and
all the musical events was intense and personal: when music was in the very air one breathed:
where the chestnuts in the Prater and lilacs in the squares seem to tell of music as well as of
the loveliness of themselves.
Spring in Vienna – beautiful though it is all countries and towns – has some precious and
exquisite quality redolent of romance, personified in the song of blackbirds that sing
everywhere in the city, which must have sunk deeply into Dorothy’s opening perceptions. She
was lucky to have been young in Vienna in spring – surely it gave her something lastingly
fresh which never died out in her singing. She who so loved flowers could never smell the
scent of lilac without exclaiming and remembering Vienna.
In these our present times there is a trend towards what is loosely called ‘return to nature’
as if it were possible to ‘return’ to something that is always in our blood. It is perhaps the
natural reaction against the squalid hopelessness and the close pressure of brick and mortar
and endless pavements, the noise and smell big cities – and affection of the spirit and sickness
of the soul, even while we appreciate what cities have to offer: - stimulating personal
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Appendix A1
contacts, intellectual activity and the sense of artistic striving. Dorothy indeed made the most
of all these – was not Busoni living and working in Vienna then? Any contact with that
musical and intellectual giant must have left and indelible impression. But always she kept
within her the freshness and vitality that come from love and awareness of the final realities
unchanging elements of nature. So much of her life was spent in cities, in travelling, amongst
people; but always she would escape when the opportunity offered to the country and to
garden, to renew those springs from which we draw out true vitality. Thus the flowers that
were showered upon her as a tribute gave her endless pleasure – not only the sophisticated
bouquets of rare orchids, hothouse lilies and carnations, but equally a humble branches of
cowslips and the boxes of primroses and violets so often sent to her. A bouquet placed on her
plate by the manager of a small hotel in Switzerland when she was once on holiday, and the
fact, surprising to her in her modest idea of herself, of her recognition in an out-of- the-way
place, gave her as much real joy as the sometimes overwhelming applause and ovation she
received at concerts. Incidentally, even that short, snatched holiday was cut short by a
telegram following her from England with the urgent request for her to return to London and
take an engagement which no other soprano could be found to fill; this necessitated a hurried
search for music, and subsequently studied all the way home in the train, so full was her life
then. But this is going to far ahead. There was much to come before this in hard work, in
striving for perfection in vocal line and tone, and in the building of her career.
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Dorothy returned from Vienna with the idea of a professional career as a concert-singer
crystallised in her mind and well-equipped with a most excellent technical groundwork. The
obvious course to pursue seemed to be that of giving a concert of her own to put herself
before the public ear and eye – in London. This was perhaps the one mistake in her
professional activities – she who was later to be sought after as a favour, sought favour from
the public and it was not given her. It was too soon for an appearance in London without the
grounding and backing of many appearances and concerts before smaller and less critical
audiences; this she afterwards came to look on as an integral part of a singer’s training,
comparable to an actress’s rigorous trials in repertory and touring.
‘Sing anywhere and everywhere and do anything you are asked to do’, was her advice to
young singers’ and the knowledge and experience thus gained is undoubtedly invaluable,
provided the high ideal and standard of performance is always kept in mind.
Nothing came of this one concert for which she paid to appear. Daniel Mayer organised it
and she sang in company with an infant prodigy pianist, now known to the world
resoundingly as Soloman. It was a mistake and she paid for it substantially, but only in money
fortunately, for it did no harm if also no good.
She was sensible enough, in spite of her disappointment, to realise and appreciate her then
limitations, but the determination to succeed was in no way lessened, so she turned her face
away from London and concentrated on obtaining provincial engagements. An alphabetical
list of places at which she appeared during the years 1907–1941, ranging from Aberdeen to
Yarmouth north, south, east and west all over the British Isles – gives one a notion of the
ardour and enthusiasm she brought to her chosen calling – ‘anywhere and everywhere’ indeed
it was, and her experience and poise was increased beyond measure by all the varied types of
concerts she undertook. Her performances ranged from such widely different music as
‘Margarita’ in concert performances of ‘Faust’ and other coloratura arie of the type of ‘Una
Voce Poco Fa’ to lieder by Wolfe and covered most of the soprano oratorio parts.
A tour with Clara Butt in 1910 was an enlargement of human experience; on this occasion
she smilingly described herself as an attendant in a royal progress: even in those early days
her sense of humour and proportion was very alive and keen; anything in the nature of ‘show’
or ‘putting oneself across’ amused her immensely, alien as it was to her own character of
gentle sincerity.
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The war years of 1914–18 cut across a career well and promisingly started, as they did to
so many young artists. Musical endeavour and concert-giving was slowed down and reduced
to a very low level. She did war-work near her home in Birmingham and sang when occasion
offered, which was not frequent; but the experience gained in the preceding years was not
lost, but rather assimilated, and the impetus that was to set her on her way and direct her into
her own particular channel was at hand.
Dorothy was ever anxious, out of her modesty and humility, that no undue credit should be
accorded to her personally for her successes; she always regarded herself and her art as the
vehicle by which the true beauty of what she sang might be expressed; but she would not have
been the lovable, human person she was had she not rejoiced in the success that came to her;
but it was always the music first and herself second. Thus when C. L. produced the very
music suited to her voice and temperament and people afterwards acclaimed her for the
singing of it, she was swift to give the first credit to the original collector of the lovely works
and, second, to C. L. herself for the enterprise and dynamic force that encouraged her and led
her on the sing them.
A number of rare and hitherto unsung (or at least in England unsung) manuscripts and
scores of old pre-Bach masters had been collected by Edward Amphlett who was intensely
interested in, and a great lover of music of that period and had spent much time in searching
out and collecting the scores. He was killed in the First World War and his collection left to
C. L. who perceived in Dorothy the ideal voice and personality to interpret them.
Though many of the Bach cantatas had been brought to light again after an eclipse of
many years (Mendelssohn did much enthusiastic work in making them re-known in Germany)
they were not widely familiar, except for some of the motets, on the large scale. In England
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even to an eclectic and musically-educated audience; and even to such an audience, the earlier
composers such as Schutz, Ritter etc. were practically unknown.
It was to this period that Dorothy now turned her studies and efforts and from the very
wealth of material emerged the idea of giving a concert composed entirely of works from this
period. It was a somewhat perilous venture. Concert-giving at the best of times is an
expensive and chancey business, and a concert of this sort chiefly consisting of unknown, or
at most unfamiliar works, was a tremendous risk. However, the idea was an attractive one and
behind it was C. L.’s enthusiasm and driving force. To lay the groundwork, Dorothy wrote to
each member of the Bach Choir to enlist their interest and support. She had recently sung to
Sir Hugh Allen who had immediately on hearing her given her an engagement to sing at one
of his Bach Festivals: that, she said, was her tonic. It gave her the necessary confidence in her
powers and the stimulus to branch out in her own independent line. The result was the
organization of fours concerts of old music during the winter of 1920, not with the idea of
being a money-making proposition, but to make the music more widely known and
performed.
London concertgoers then had had nothing like this brought to them before and the series
roused considerable interest. How many singers and audiences now, who take the hearing and
performance of these old works for granted, realise that it was chiefly owing to Dorothy’s
enterprise and hard work and enthusiasm that they first came to see the light of performance
at all?
She had during the previous summer given a concert of her own at the Wigmore Hall
which was a foreshadowing of the ensuring series, in that the greater part of the programme
was designed to show forth the music and the beauty and interest of it, rather than the singers’
capabilities, though the latter part of the programme followed what might be called the more
accepted recital in – a group of lieder and a group of modern English songs. It was still
however, a concert of chamber –music, in that she was assisted by a string-quartet, a flautist,
a baritone singer and that inimitable accompanist George Reeves, who afterwards always
played for her when the exigencies of both their careers allowed it. The concerts were warmly
received and at once her own special niche in the musical and vocal world was found.
Immediate the plans for the series of ‘concerts of old music’ were started. They culminated in
four concerts from October 1920 to February 1921 – three at the old Steinway Hall and one at
St. Michael’s Church, Cornhill, where Dr Harold Darke gave his admirable help and service
at the organ. Each concert had for its main item one of the Bach cantatas for solo voice or
voices and various combinations of instruments, then so rarely heard, as well as the unknown
works of Schutz, Ritter and Tunder.
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Fortunately for Dorothy and her guarantors and collaborators, who all most generously
gave their talents and services for nominal fees, the concerts proved successful and escaped
any financial loss. This, coupled with the unequivocal artistic success they undoubtedly were
and being blessed by the unanimous tribute of the musical critics, led by the voice of Mr
Ernest Newman who had indeed been encouraging from the first, made the organization of a
further series an inevitable and joyful task.
These were given on the same lines as the first series and given moreover, to crowded
halls on each occasion of the four concerts. This time the scope of the concerts was enlarged
to include music by Boyce, Lawes, Purcell and one entirely secular concert, to counterbalance
what one critic mentioned as the slightly over-serous solemnity of the concerts. The unearthly
yet passionate beauty of Purcell’s Blessed Virgin’s Expostulations had found its way to the
hearts and minds of the audience and this soon became one that Dorothy made peculiarly her
own, having raised it from the dust of oblivion; yet she gave it open-handedly and it is now in
the repertoire of many competent sopranos. But those who heard her sing it retain a memory
of a jewel of perfection, removed from anyone else’s interpretation of it. ‘Too impersonal’
was often the criticism of all her singing and of those scena in particular: but when the
technical and emotional difficulties have been overcome, as they were in her case
triumphantly, what shines forth can only be called sheer inspiration, and the memory of
perfection remain.
A third series of concerts the following winter and spring was inevitable and the
programmes were built on much the same lines, with the material and some of the previously-
performed arias and cantatas agin included. In this series there was also the added interest and
variation of the ‘English Singers’ with whom, many year later, Dorothy was to come into
such intimate contact. Their unique and vital singing of madrigals and other small works for
concerted voices fitted most admirably into the scheme and gave lightness and variation to the
programmes.
From now on Dorothy was in demand everywhere and for all kinds of concert. It was the
case of a singer with true musicianship triumphant in her own right. In her singing of Bach
there was no one to equal her and it has been said that she should have sung nothing else but
the works of that master. And how could that have been possible to one of her eager,
inquiring, enthusiastic disposition? Because she excelled in one special type of singing
seemed to her no reason why she should be debarred from exploring the range of work
possible for a soprano of her accomplishments. It has also been said, perhaps with more
justification, that she should never have sung sopranos parts in the larger choral works such as
the Verdi requiem and the Beethoven Missa Solemnis and the Choral Symphony. Possibly for
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her own good and the sake of her health it might have been advisable not to accept the offers
of engagements to sing in these works, which are a very great strain, nervous and physical, on
any singer, even one possessed of a far more robust constitution and bigger voice. But there
were at times so few sopranos capable in London of taking the roles, and, as she felt, who was
she to refuse offers of engagements? So she did sing them and to anyone who heard ineffably
pure notes of the ‘Recordate’ and ‘Angus Dai’ of the Verdi Requiem floating through the
cathedral arches and blending perfectly with the mezzo-soprano voice, or the soaring clarity
of the high phrase in the Beethoven mass, the memory is one of intense grattitude that
anything so beautiful could exist on earth. For that alone she may be justified in singing parts
which in general opinion were too heavy for her voice. That the tremendous strain imposed
upon her delicate constitution and temperament shortened her life is undoubted; but she
would not have had it otherwise: the creation and maintenance of beauty were life to her and
in that she lived fully.
In every concert she ever sang her programmes were chosen with the utmost care – one
might almost say loving care for each detail was considered and weighed and the whole effect
balanced with a nicety of musical judgement – not necessarily for the effect upon the
audience, though that too was naturally considered being an essential part in building up a
good and enjoyable programme; but primarily for the excellence of that intrinsic musical
work. Even the printing of the programme was not left to the care of others – but had to pass
her meticulous judgement and be exactly right for the eye, just as she endeavoured that all
should be exactly right for the ear and mind, encores were another thing she was most
particular about – never to many but on the other hand never ungraciously to few, and always
chosen with due regard for what had gone before. The incident which followed her for so
long, when she refused for apparently no reason, to give an encore at a concert at Albert Hall,
though the audience remained clapping and calling till the lights were lowered, has a very
simple and human explanation. She was singing under Sir Hugh Allen’s baton and, at the end
of the concert she looked at him enquiringly as to whether she should take an encore or not –
he hissed at her ‘No! I’ve got a train to catch’ – so she refused the audience their encore in
spite of the vociferous demands. It might have saved time in the end and enabled Sir Hugh to
catch his train had she sung just that once more! Ironically enough, this incident was the only
one seized upon by many newspapers when her death was announced – irony indeed, when
the whole incident was completely unlike her.
Her manner on the platform has given rise too many entirely false pronouncements about
her. It gave the impression, until she started to sing, of extreme affectation, which made
people think she was insincere: in reality it arose out of agonies of nervousness and was her
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way of trying to overcome that nervousness. Probably no one ever told her about it – why
should they? As soon as she stated to sing any sign of affectation fell away from her and one
forgot to think that there had been any mannerisms. As Geoffrey Carte, her throat specialist
said: ‘I never knew anyone to be such a quaking mess of nerves before she had a concert and
yet so completely up to scratch when the moment came to sing’. Nerves seem to be a cross
that must be born by all great artistes and Dorothy was no exception.
An incident in Dorothy’s career which impressed her profoundly at the time and remained
with her a vivid and joyful remembrance, was singing the part of the Virgin in Rutland
Boughton’s sacred choral drama Bethlehem. Boughton had originally asked her to create the
part of ‘Etain’ in his opera The Immortal Hour, having heard her at one of her earliest
appearances in Birmingham singing in Debussy’s Blessed Damozel, which he was
conducting. His impression of her voice ‘unlike any other singer suggested to me something
between an angel and a nightingale’ and her personality ‘loveable and remote’ made it not
surprising that she was in his thoughts when the part of ‘Etain’ came to be created. She
however refused to undertake it on the grounds that she had no stage experience, though in
Boughton’s own opinion that would have been ‘a positive advantage’.
When in 1919 Bethlehem was produced her natural inclination overcame her reluctance
and diffidence and she sang the part of the Virgin, even though much of the music lay too low
for the best of her voice and had to be transposed up when she sang it. She felt it to be a
privilege to sing the part and it was lasting joy to her to remember. She sang it once again for
a single performance of a modern-dress production of the drama in 1926. In Rutland
Boughton’s own words: - ‘She was literally adorable and her gentle perfection made the
worship of the shepherds and wise men just inevitable’.
While speaking of her stage appearances, rare as they were, Holst’s Savitri comes into the
same category. The two work’s, Savitri and Bethlehem, are alike in their emphasis on the
spiritual, and also in the economy of means in the writing and conception, rejecting as they
do, all the paraphernalia of grand opera. They are ‘opera di camera’, seen and heard at their
best in small settings and preferably before an eclectic audience – for who can measure the
direct effect of the audience upon performers and performance? The performance of Savitri at
the Lyric Theatre Hammersmith, in 1921 had everything in its favour – a small and chosen
orchestra conducted by Arthur Bliss; the intimacy of a small theatre; and singers whose
musical attainments and attitudes of mind made them at one with and equal to, the beauty and
also difficulty of the music they sang. Dorothy played the part of ‘Savitri’, Steuart Wilson the
‘Husband’ and Clive Carey ‘Death’. The theme of the opera – the conquest of death by love –
is that of the whole guiding principle of Dorothy’s life; just as in Bethlehem she felt it to be a
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privilege to portray the immortal fusion of divine and human love, so in ‘Savitri’ to show
forth ‘love, sweetness and goodness in her person’ was to her a gracious gift of which in her
modesty and true humility of mind she felt herself to be unworthy. The unanimous view of
critics, audience and of Holst himself, must surely have made it clear to her the complete
rightness and inevitability of the choice of Dorothy Silk to sing and impersonate the part of
‘Savitri’? Holst himself thought her ‘perfection’. A later performance of the opera at Covent
Garden in 1926 was less successful – the size and atmosphere of the building hardly lend
themselves to anything on an exquisite or miniature scale – but even here the ‘sweetness,
purity and distinction’ of her impersonation of the part, in Richard Capell’s words, are most
vividly remembered and attuned the audience to the quiet beauty and feeling of the opera.
Her only other stage appearance was in 1928, when a Triple Bill of light opera was
produced at the Court Theatre, Sloane Square. She sang the part of a village maiden in a little-
known operetta of Schubert. It was of no very startling musical or literary interest; charming
to the ear as Schubert’s divine gift of melody must inevitably make it and very charmingly
produce and sung. The English translation of the German words was not of high calibre –
Ernest Newman took the opportunity of exercising his pretty wit by writing an amusing
criticism in rhythm, imitating the doggerel of the English translations. It began: -
and possibly it was the aptest thing that could have been said.
It was at the height of her fame as a Bach-singer, and here she was, descending from her
pedestal of serious-minded singer of Bach and oratorio (the distinguished Miss Silk!), where
critics and audience alike conspired to try and keep her, to sing in a light, one might almost
say, frivolous operetta. And, moreover, doing so with every evidence of enjoying the
experience! And who shall say that it did not give her immense musical enjoyment and
refreshment and enhance her sense of fun and sent her back to her serious-minded singings
more joyously than ever?... A pedestal is an uncomfortable and confided position for anyone
and Dorothy, more than most people was ill-fitted to occupy such as place; it offended her
sense of proportion, for she had a most lively and bubbling sense of humour. The sometimes
almost fatuous and effusive approbation she received from so many was, she felt, out of all
proportion to her attainments and gifts. She accepted it all with gracious tolerance and sweet
gentleness. But any true affection, if she was convinced of its sincerity, she treasured deeply
and returned in full measure, as anyone can testify who and the good fortune to give her love
and devotion for however long or short a time.
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So great was her love of lieder that when the eminent German musician and teacher of
singing, Von zur Muhlen visited England in 1930 she made time from the rush of her
engagements to spend a fortnight at Steyning where he was teaching, and to return virtually to
her students days – and that with youthful zest and enthusiasm – and have a lesson with him
every day.
George Reeves was acting as his accompanist during that time; he was always a severe
critic but just, and his admiration for Dorothy, both as a singer and as a person, was genuine
and sincere, so work with him always profitable. He felt that her singing of lieder was ‘hardly
ever quite and exactly right’; the tendency to sing some of the broader syllables with
insufficiently German inflection was included to thin the timbre of the lower part of her voice
(always the more difficult to her) more than necessary. This of course was not so apparent in
the more classical style of singing or in English, where to sing a pure tone on a diphthong
vowel sound in which our language abounds is an art in itself, or rather is a compromise,
which she mastered successfully. Von zur Muhlem had the greatest appreciation of Dorothy
(and he was invariably right in his judgements) and during the time she worked with him her
lieder-singing improved immeasurably. Even George Reeves admitted that it came as near to
being ‘quite right’ as he was likely to hear! The only pity was the lack of time that prevented
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her seizing this one opportunity of perfecting herself in this branch of art which she loved so
dearly.
This series were known as ‘Wednesday Evening Concerts’ and were given during the
winters of 1929–30 and 1930–31 at the Wigmore Hall. They were organised much on the
same lines as Dorothy’s original ‘Old Music Concerts’ and proved as great a success as these
had been. To quote a leaflet in one of the programmes may give the best idea of the quality
and atmosphere of the concerts:- ‘…to establish a centre where those who love good music
can listen to those who love playing it for its own sake and not for any peculiar advantage
arising therefrom. Consequently no member of the committee received: any remuneration and
any surplus that may arise from the receipts goes to form a fund for the furtherance of this
scheme’. When it is said that the names on the committee included musicians recognised as
the finest exponents of their particular branch of art – Harold Samuel, Myra Hess, Leon
Goossens, Ivor James, Isolde Menges, Dorothy herself to name only a few – the great success
of the concerts is understandable. They were as perfect a series of chamber-music concerts as
one could wish to hear – perfect in every detail, even down to the printing of the programmes.
There is an almost unlimited range of choice for such programmes and with so many
excellent artists available the possibilities were vast and the fullest use was made of the scope
and variety which offered. The programmes ranged from solo cantatas for either voice or a
combination of voice and instruments – piano or other instrumental concertos accompanied
by a small string orchestra conducted by Herbert Menges – song cycles - madrigals and
motets sung by the English Singers and Tudor Singers – vocal duets, including the lovely
‘Elegy on the death of Queen Mary’ by Purcell – even vocal quartets: the ‘Liedeslieder’ of
Brahms and ‘Spanisches Liederspiel’ of Schumann were given at one concert – not to
mentioned string trios, quartets and quintets. It was a veritable feast of music and it is good to
record that it was acclaimed as such and the hall was filled at each and every concert,
disproving the reiterated contention that chamber-music is the affectation of only the chosen
few. It is possible that the true musical enjoyment experienced by the performers
communicated itself to the audience and contributed much to the success in every way.
In this age of specialization her name is immediately linked with the singing of Bach and
in that it is acknowledged that she excelled – what to other singers presents great difficulty
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was to her as easy and natural to sing as the thrushes spontaneous notes are to itself. But her
capabilities were too wide and deep to be contained in one special narrow channel and
confined there; they overflowed inevitably and quite naturally again into the wider sphere of
cathedral singing – if one may loosely apply such a term to Festival singing in general. It was
with the annual Three Choirs Festival at Gloucester, Worcester and Hereford that her name
came to be most closely associated and at those festivals that her singing and personality
found their truest and fullest expression. From 1921 to 1931 she sang in each of the cathedrals
year by year, though actually her first engagement for the Three Choirs Festival had been
many years earlier before the Great War, at Gloucester 1913.
No one singer can be said to be the leading singer at these festivals, but gradually Dorothy
was entrusted with the soprano roles in the most significant and important works to be
performed. During the first years she sang such accepted soprano parts as Mendelssohn’s
‘Elijah’ “and Handel’s ‘Messiah’, which used to be performed every year, and Haydn’s
‘Creation’, and took part in smaller works and at the orchestral concerts. Gradually her innate
feeling for this style of cathedral singing and naturally reverent approach to the work she sang
came to be more clearly recognized and she was given more complicated works to prepare
requiring a deeper insight and emotional power, than other of the more straightforward
oratorios. Her singing of the soprano solo ‘Ye now are sorrowful’ in the Brahms ‘Requiem’
was a gem of flawless purity. In the long-sustained phrases and high tessiture, such a te[?] for
most singers, she semed to move as if in her natural element. That is not to say that her
singing in the more classical oratorios was not equally lovely for she had an instinctive
feeling for style and was able to adjust her manner of singing to the work of the moment
almost automatically, just as unconsciously her voice would alter in timbre according to the
particular instrument she sang with. In a retrospective criticism of the music of 1921 The
Times it was said that ‘her singing of “With Verdure Clad” made Haydn’s “Creation”
worthwhile – there was the joy of a new clean world in it. If Haydn were sung like that should
we ever think him ‘old fashioned?’ A critic once said that no perfect performance of the Verdi
Requiem would ever be heard until there were two sopranos soloists, one whose voice could
portray the power and emotion with a full lower register and the other purity and ethereal
beauty in the final Requiem, which Verdi has marked PPP on the B flat in alt which is the
final note. No singer has ever held that B flat so long or with such a heavenly pianissimo.
There was joy of a different kind in her singing of that precious episode in Elgar’s
‘Kingdom’, ‘The Sun Goeth Down’ – the stillness of contemplative rapture; listening, it
seemed as if Dorothy had identified herself with the joy and the sorrow of Mary – and what
more can be said to convey the completeness of sincerity in her singing?
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Listening to her performance of the soprano part in Verdi’s Requiem one was amazed and
astonished at the power and domination with which the music was interpreted. They are not
usually qualities associated with her singing in general, but in this work she was able to
transcend her own limitations of voice and temperament and bring to it passion and dramatic
sense and rising to the great heights the music demands. Critics were unanimous in praise and
appreciation, but only one realised at what cost the vivid and unforgettable effect had been
achieved.
‘She seemed to rise with ease to the physical urgency of this soprano part. Her
success was won without sacrifice of the essential goodness of her singing style, but
there was probably lurking harm in it. We hope Miss Silk will not do this too often’.
He was right; to go often beyond the limits of one’s gifts and temperament is to pay the price
in someway at some time – Dorothy paid it in shortening her own life, by drawing too
severely in her limited reserves of strength. ‘Passion stripped of grossness is a pure flame’,
and in that flame she burned; but to have visited spiritual heights is not given to many and
she, of all people, would gladly have paid the price many times over for the ennobling
experience.
Whilst thinking of Festivals one’s mind turns to the Leeds Festival of 1931 were Holst’s
‘Choral Symphony’ was given for the first time. Holst was one of Dorothy’s most fervent
admirers. She went to Paris to give the first performance of his six songs to words of Humbert
Wolfe. They were unbelievably difficult to sing and the scoring was very intricate. While
learning them with Holst she turned to him one day and said ‘Gustav, oh! Why did you make
them so difficult’. His answer is worth recording for it gives one his character; he said:
‘Dorothy, if I could have made them simple I should have been a great man’. And then went
on to tell her wherein lay the greatness of Purcell.
The Choral Symphony was another instance of Holst’s inspired but complicated musical
mind. Written to the words of Keats’ ‘Ode to a Grecian Urn’, his music is almost tortured to
give the words their value. It took the Leeds Choir a year to learn and even then endless
rehearsals were necessary before the Festival performance. Holst insisted on Dorothy taking
the soprano solo – only she could do it as his mind wished it done. The critics were divided in
their opinions as the whether this was truly a great work or not but nonetheless the following
spring the Leeds Choir came up specially to London to sing it again, where the work – and
Dorothy – received a great ovation.
The Festival brought Dorothy into close contact with all the contemporary conductors: Dr
Vaughan Williams, another great admirer both of her musical ability and her sweet
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personality – Sir Adrian Bolt, who came specially to conduct a small orchestra at one of her
first ‘Old-World’ concerts to show his appreciation of her musical taste – Sir Malcolm
Sargent – and perhaps last but not least Sir Hugh Allen, who after terrifying her by his
brusqueness at her first audition told her in after years when they had become firm friends ‘Of
course I knew the first time I heard you that no-one could sing Bach like that in England’.
‘You didn’t give me that impression,’ said Dorothy. ‘No’, said Sir Hugh, ‘but I gave you the
plum in that year’s Bach Festival’. And so he did, for ‘Comfort Sweet’ took even the critics’
breath away and it was from that moment she became ‘Dorothy Silk, the Bach singer’.
The last phase of Dorothy’s active life as a singer was something utterly different from
anything that had gone before. She had hitherto always been par excellence a solo singer with
all that implies – complete and sole personal responsibility, musical vocal and personal and
social. In 1932 a totally new idea was bought to her. Cuthbert Kelly of the English Singers
approached her with the suggestion that she should join their group of singers as the first
soprano. It was an idea that needed a lot of consideration, for it meant in effect completely
relinquishing her solo work.
It is rare to find a solo instrumental player who is also a good chamber music player – the
two arts are almost impossible to follow simultaneously: so it is with solo singing and
concerted singing. There is far more in combined singing than the mere sinking of the
personality in the total effort that is a sine qua non – after that comes endless discipline
regarding vowel sounds, word terminations, idiosyncrasies of phrasing, all of which may be
perfectly correct and permissible in a solo performance, but if they are not exactly matched
with those of the other singers the effect is marred and imperfect. Dorothy now had to attune
her mind to an entirely different approach to the vocal art; to understand deeply that in
concerted singing words come to be the driving force of the music, that matching of vowel
sounds is of supreme importance; to listen keenly to other singer while herself singing and to
achieve that delicacy of utterance which had not been necessary to the same extent in her solo
singing. All these new things Dorothy set her self to learn and to learn so thoroughly that they
would become unconscious and absorbed into the happy and free presentation of the
combined musical effect.
One can with difficulty call to mind any other soprano who with such a long and
successful career behind her, could with such equal success have turned her mind and
attention to a completely new art-form and mastered it. Dorothy’s real humility of approach
alone made it possible and her joyous and boundless enthusiasm, which was ever so
endearing a trait in her character, made it absorbing and sincerely interesting to her. She had
to work immensely hard to school herself to the new style; many people have regretted that
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she did so, complaining that it altered and thinned the timbre of her voice and lessened that
un-nameable quality in it that was peculiarly hers. If this is so it can only be said against it
that it gave her ten more years of active singing life, doing work that she loved doing with
people who were congenial to her and enjoying experiences that otherwise would never have
come her way, and at the same time relieving her of what was, more often than not, the
burden to her of social responsibility, now of course shared.
She had seldom sung anywhere outside England and in joining the English Singers she had
the opportunity of visiting many countries on tour with them. Her first appearance with them
was in Spain; a concert had been officially organised for the opening of the new University at
Madrid. In true Spanish fashion the actual university was only partially built, but the concert
was given nevertheless, and in actual fact the Singers returned two years later to give another
concert when the building was complete.
This tried her out and she was prepared and ready for the concert given at Queen’s Hall
before they left for an American tour, that took them right a across that continent to the
Pacific coast as well as south and also north into Canada.
She found it all a delight – the travelling did not trouble her, comfortable as it was in
comparison with the many tedious and difficult journeys that had formed part of her life in
England.
She did two more American tours with the Singers, even though her health was gradually
worsening; and in 1936 a European tour. This gave her a glimpse over a wide horizon, as if
through a temporarily opened window, before that window and the view shut out and lights
darkened in war – the lights that shone in Vienna, (and what joy and excitement it was to her
to re-visit the beloved Vienna after so many years), Budapest, Prague, Cracow, Warsaw. One
final glimpse there was even after war was sweeping over most of Europe – when the Singers
went to Italy in 1940. That was the end. After that the lights were all extinguished in Europe
and the misery and sterility of war suffocated the sensitive spirit.
She had the feeling that her work was done and had no heart to sing any more; but it was
good that she had that final opening-out and vision of new ways and people before the end.
Though the war did not in actual fact kill her, she was just as much a victim as any who
fell in action. Such a tide of hate let loose and such accumulation of horror and disaster
preyed upon her mind and spirit to such an extent that finally the frail physical vessel was not
any longer able to stand.
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She died in the summer of 1941 and did not live to see the ebb of that fearful tide and the
partial return to sanity and small measure of that good-will among men that she, the loving
spirit, so ardently desired.
***
‘The earth is sweet with roses and rich with marigolds,
And violets and crocuses are wet with running streams.
And through the grassy meadows the blessed spirits go,
Their white feet shod with lilies, and as they go they sing’.
How is it possible to convey to those who did not hear or who, hearing, did not
understand, the magic that lay in Dorothy’s singing? Magic is a poor word to use to express
what finally remains the inexpressible, but what other is there? It was white magic of the
highest and purest order, and who had access to the understanding of the heart of its mysteries
was enslaved forever.
The voice itself was a beautiful instrument beautifully used; she knew her work from
beginning to end, a good craftsman as well as a good artist, the complete singer; and she
followed her vocation with ardour and single-mindedness that yet had nothing in it of the
ruthlessness too often inseparable from the successful of this world. So much can be said and
readily understood by anyone – but what lay behind the expression of that beauty? Perhaps
the secret lay in true humility. Not one in a thousand in the many walks of life have that
virtue, true and unalloyed. It shines forth in the saints for all that come after to see and learn
from, and they were after all human beings, in their day, with all human fallibilities to
overcome; but it is not so obvious in its other manifestations and in other callings.
Dorothy would have laughed with incredulous enjoyment to hear herself ranked so high
with the gifted of God; yet so many people – friends, critics, poets, fellow-artists, composers
whose works she sang, have tried to give expression to that intangible something, that a cold
analysis seems little more than presumption. Yet the lesser humans, the plodders, the triers,
who have been privileged to glimpse a spark of the divine, have always the urge to bear
witness to the light, that others who come after may be glad that the light has shone.
To ‘explain’ the ‘magic’ would be like trying to separate the delicate gossamer threads of a
spider’s web hung with dew and in so doing destroy the whole. To say that her voice
‘chameleonic’, in that it tended to take on the colour of any instrument with which she
happened to be singing or to say that it had a kind of remote and unearthly quality is not to
‘explain’ anything; or to say that her whole character and personality was compact of
goodness, sweetness, generosity, with nota trace of priggishness or hypocrisy and that shewed
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forth in her singing, nor even to mention such practical good as her work for the League of
Nations Union or tell of gaiety and spontaneous enjoyment of all the small and simple
pleasures of life; none of those ‘explains’ anything. The spiritual approach is the only possible
one.
With her it was never a case of ‘What can I do with this song, this role, this work?’ or
whatever may have been under consideration, but ‘How can this music speak through me?’
With that open and humble attitude of mind, which she practiced until it became a thing
engrained in her nature, unconscious and automatic, she made herself into a perfect medium
for music to speak through. There never was a singer with less of self interpretation – she
allowed the composer to speak through her – thus we heard Bach, Schubert, Brahms, Byrd,
Purcell as though they stood by us and spoke to us in their own words and idiom.
And yet though we may try and try again to explain and give reason and analyse, there is
always something left in the corner of our memories that eludes the grasp of our seeking
minds.
The truth may be that she gave herself wholly to music – music is beyond the reckoning of
our finite minds and understanding and it took her to itself and thereby commanded our love.
***
252
Appendix A1
Yet again she might have smiled gently at such high-sounding phrases for she sang from
heart and it was indeed ‘ever-faithful’.
One of her friends wrote of her when she was still alive –
Those who did hear and know can never forget. Those who did not, may wish to know
even if they can only hear in imagination.
The seventh wave rolls farthest up the shore – our lives proceed in seven-year cycles, the
curious mystical number seven lies at the back of the incomprehensible forces of our
253
Appendix A1
existence. The seventh child is endowed with gifts and vital forces not given to common folk,
who dimly apprehend and feel their impact but cannot, explain or reason about them.
Dorothy Silk was the seventh child of her mother, the fifth and last child of her second
marriage and the final flowering of a romantic and fruitful life. The word romantic is used
advisedly, for in the anxious uncertainty, the turmoil and stress that make up the days of our
lives in this present time, romance has little place. It is a quality we look upon as almost lost,
but as having a radiant value of its own, a quality delicate and tender, yet supple and strong,
needing space and time and quiet to develop its latent power. Some of this quality seems to
have passed to Dorothy, for the vivid radiance in her was manifest during the whole of her
life. People of all kinds were drawn to her as steel is drawn by a magnet, not only for the
excellence of her gifts of mind and body which, within their compass, were unsurpassed and
unsurpassable, but for the intangible something vouchsafed to her from an unknown source.
This shone forth in her every act – in the gentleness and consideration she gave to all who
came to her, from the highest to the lowest – in the generosity and selflessness of her motives.
A rare personality – gay, sweet, vivid – comparable to the glint of sunlight on clear water
or the sheen of silk caught by the light – Silk, her name by heredity and one she made
peculiarly her own by the lustrous streaming ribbon of her silken voice.
***
254
Appendix A1
FINALE
Hero-worship is a tiresome thing, it immediately creates doubts. Therefore in case this
Memoir should give the impression that Dorothy Silk was nothing more than a rather insipid
spiritual creature, let me lift the curtain and look behind the scenes where lay the many
complexes and difficulties which made her character so interesting and varied, and her
personality so attractive to those who knew her well. And at the same time so misleading to
those who didn’t.
Self-consciousness is a difficult thing to combat especially for those whose life must be
spent moving from place to place, missing with all sorts and kinds of people: facing audiences
and all that leads up to facing those audiences – then it can be as it was for Dorothy –
purgatory.
This was possibly accounted for by her early upbringing, which was narrow, and her
education scanty. Modern psychologists would doubtless say the Victorian William Silk had
made too deep an impression on her sub-conscious. Female education in the 80’s was usually
of a low standard, the general idea being that social accomplishments were more necessary to
a woman than high scholastic attainments.
A confident nature has little difficulty in carrying this off successfully but Dorothy,
sensitivity amounted to an egotistical fault.
Fear that her ignorance should be found out, prevented her from entering easily into
conversations and discussions she could have enjoyed and to which she could have added
lustre. For ignorant she may have been judged by intellectuals standards – but where music
was concerned she stood on firm ground (to watch her take a rehearsal at one of her own
concerts was to be assured of this).
Her greatest admirers were composers and conductors, she grasped in an almost uncanny
way what the composer wished to convey – as in Holst’s Savitri and Choral Symphony – so
that never willingly did he let anyone else sing her parts – the string of pure notes that
conclude Vaughan Williams’ Pastoral Symphony were in his idea – perfection. The effortless
controlled line of the “Comfort Sweet” aria from the Bach Cantata 190 gave the critical soul
of Sir Hugh Allen “complete satisfaction” and many more instances might be given.
In some strange way her sensitivity grew as her career grew, so that instead of success
bringing assurance it brought fears. Fear that she would not live up to her growing reputation.
Fear that her vocall chords were being over-taxed (Dr. Milsom Rees, the famous throat
255
Appendix A1
specialist once said her vocal chords were the finest threads of gossamer he’d ever seen). Fear
that her work would take her away from the family she loved so dearly.
There was little or no reason for any of those fears. For her reputation was founded on the
sure basis of knowledge and ability and though her body was frail in appearance, she must
have been possessed of a really strong constitution to stand up to the strain both physical and
mental, often six concerts in one week in all parts of the British Isles. These journeys alone
could not have been undertaken by a physically weak body – to say nothing of the inevitable
rehearsal before each concert, often some hours in length, before a big orchestral work. But
these were two entirely different Dorothy’s – each full of contradictions as all subtle things
are. The one Dorothy who suffered (often quite unnecessarily) from this public life which
wore her nervous system to a standstill. And the other, which could work in a garden
untiringly and rejoiced in growing things, could play with children as one of them, inventing
thrilling games, causing shrieks of laughter by her comic impersonations.
A creature bursting with energy and full of humour. But between Nursery and Drawing-
room door this cloak of happiness slipped away, and a stiff little figure with a set smile came
in to be introduced – maybe to a collection of people who particularly wished to meet her and
often went away disappointed.
She had a quite inexpressible charm, and this, added to a great gift for friendship meant
that she was never without the necessary prop and stay to help her through the difficult side of
her life. It was perhaps the law of compensation. The power of her attraction is shown by the
fact that whilst her friends were often maddened by all the unnecessary self consciousness
their loyalty never wavered and to the end of her career she never lacked their support,
without which she could never have carried on her strainful career.
If you loved the one Dorothy you accepted the other, for all the efforts in the world could
not change her. The people she really felt at home with – barring her nearest and dearest and
those who fully appreciated her genius – were the unfortunates of this world – the men who
had had a rough deal, the girl who had been left-out. With them there was no self
consciousness. The fact that these lame dogs were often unworthy never deterred her from
giving either sympathy or money. There is a pawnbroker in Westbourne Grove who must
sometimes have wondered who this shy little woman was who came at intervals to redeem
bits of jewellery, a watch – or a piece of furniture – for her less fortunate fellow artistes.
The strain the work imposed on her was not generally suspected, for she was beloved in
the artistes room for her gentleness and her kindness to the lesser artiste – she had no enemies
in the profession, but made few friends among them. Many members of the Three Choirs
256
Appendix A1
Festival will remember this charm, and simple friendliness with one and all – for she had no
prima donna ways – always she thought of herself as just another instrument. Nevertheless
one must realise that it was probably this humble side of her character, that produced
something one longs to hear again in another sing of this music. The something which roused
hardened critics to say again and again that in her particular sphere she was unique.
Audiences flocked to her Concerts not only to hear the music, but realising that here was a
singer who thought more of the music than of her part in it. Every work must be studied from
the inside and the spirit of the words given their inner meaning. Most of the Bach music she
sang, and nearly all her Festival work was religious music – and religion was a very real thing
to her, as has been seen in the story of her early life.
She had wandered far form her Nonconformist upbringing, she was deeply interested in all
forms of new thought and modern approach and although it was never forgotten and she never
dared to deny the old orthodoxy – though her reason would have liked to do so.
She had very little courage when it came to asserting herself, and another weakness was
the aggravating ability to see both sides of the question to such an extent, that she very rarely
came to any individual conclusion. She could never say ‘I definitely think so’ or ‘I absolutely
believe that’ Always it was ‘It’s so difficult to know’. She led a blameless moral life – and
some there were who said her emotional singing powers would have been greater had she not
done so.
But she was no prude, and much struggle in thought and struggle with her reason, resulted
in complete tolerance of other people’s thoughts and behaviour. She never judged anybody,
and had the utmost sympathy for those who had succumbed to feelings too strong for them –
and one side of her envied their courage. The style of music she sang was apt to put her on a
pedestal – and this she hated.
Early in her career, she became engaged for a few months to a distant cousin, who was
home on leave from Rhodesia – but he had little love or understanding of music, so that when
it came to making the choice between life in Rhodesia – or a career, she chose a career. More
than most people her happiness was dependent on affection, and her natural instincts were
domestic, not public. She loved her little cottage in Worcestershire – and she loved her family
with an intense love – but music was her life, so it is very doubtful if married life would ever
have satisfied her completely – in spite of her obvious domesticity.
Enough had been said to show how unlikely it was such a nature should ever wish to set
out to capture fresh fields – alone in strange countries.
257
Appendix A1
She did as much as her nervous temperament would allow – the marvel is she did so much.
It was only at the end of her career, when urged to join the English Singers, that she went for
the first time to America and other countries.
She loved the madrigals and motets and immediately became part of their perfect pattern.
No need here to stand alone, for the secret of the English Singers’ success was that no one
artist stood out – but all formed an exquisite chord. With them she was probably happier than
at any time in her solo career and it shows her great love of music, and the greatness of her
artistry, that she as content to sink her identity and become one of the a group.
Cuthbert Kelly the brain and organizer of the English Singers, as himself a pioneer of a
more perfect style of choral singing than had hitherto been known.
In conclusion let us repeat part of an obituary published in The Times after her death.
258
APPENDIX B1–C1
RECITAL PROGRAMMES
TABLE OF CONTENTS
APPENDIX B1: Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music, 1920–25: Programmes and
Promotional Material .......................................................................................................... 260
Dorothy Silk’s First Wigmore Hall Concert, 3 June 1920 .............................................. 260
Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music, 1920–25 ............................................................ 261
APPENDIX B3: Wednesday Evening Concerts at Wigmore Hall, 1929–31 .................. 299
First Series, 1929 ............................................................................................................. 299
Second Series, 1930 ......................................................................................................... 302
Third Series, 1930 ............................................................................................................ 305
Fourth Series, 1931 .......................................................................................................... 307
APPENDIX C1: Bach Programmes Announced in the Musical Times ‘The Coming
Season’ and ‘Choral Society Programmes’, 1923–36 ....................................................... 310
259
Appendix B1
APPENDIX B1
1
‘Dorothy Silk Concert, Wigmore Hall’, 3 June 1920, concert programme, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
260
Appendix B1
‘At the Wigmore Hall on Thursday afternoon Miss Dorothy Silk gave us some of
the loveliest of the old sacred music. The fine duet by Schütz, ‘Quando se claudunt
lumina’, was probably new to everyone in the hall. When, one wonders, will the
many similar treasures that lie entombed in the big collected edition of this great old
man, who lived a century before Bach, be made accessible to the public?’
Ernest Newman in the Sunday Times, June 6th, 1920.
Encouraged by the notices given to my concerts in June, the idea has occurred to me of giving
during the coming autumn a series of four concerts devoted entirely to old classical music.
This is not a scheme to make money, but is simply a wish to make known to a greater number
of music lovers some of the beautiful old works which are so seldom heard and when are an
everlasting joy to those who love them.
I am not unmindful that many concerts of old music had already been with this same
desire, but there is room for more effort in that direction and the works of Schütz and other
are, as yet, entirely unknown to the English public. When the demand for such music is
greater, it will become ‘accessible to the public’. The programmes would include a Solo
Cantata by Bach, either for Soprano, Alto, Tenor or Bass, at each performance and a selection
of the works of H. Schütz 1585–1672, Tunder 1614–1667, Purcell and others. To give these
as they should be given requires Flute, Oboe, Trumpet and String Quartet.
I estimate the expense of the four concerts, with the existing high prices, at about £200,
and in that estimate I have allowed for the artists giving their services for an expense fee only,
which is all I wish for myself. Being anxious to make the tickets within the reach of all, I
suggest that the price should be 7/6, 5/- and 2/6. If the scheme is to be put upon a workable
basis it is necessary to find guarantors for as many tickets as possible. It is hoped that one of
the concerts will take place in a church, on which occasion there will be a certain number of
free seats.
It would be impossible to embark on this project without a certain of some support from
the public, or I would gladly do so. Is there a public for such an endeavour?
2
Silk, letter to members of Bach Choir, July 1920, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
261
Appendix B1
I enclose a printed postcard, upon which you will find three questions. If you are
sufficiently interested, I shall be grateful if you will kindly fill in the card and return to me as
soon as possible; time is short and, until replies come in, it is difficult to judge whether
sufficient support will be forthcoming to enable the series of concerts to be given.
DOROTHY SILK
July 1920
262
Appendix B1
Table B1.2: First Series, 1920–21 (Dorothy Silk’s Four Recitals of Old Classical Music)3
3
‘Dorothy Silk Four Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes from the first series (1920–21), Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
263
Appendix B1
264
Appendix B1
At the close of these Four Recitals, it may interest those who took Series Tickets, and those
who so kindly guaranteed money towards the expenses, to know a few details as to how the
concerts have been run. There have been many difficulties and disappointments to cope with
in the endeavour to make these Recitals worthy of the beautiful old music, and, although not
quite attaining that perfection to which we aspired, the encouragement of the audiences has
been such as to justify us in feeling that the scheme has proved entirely successful.
Thanks largely to the fact that all the artistes have generously given their services for a
reduced fee, and no agent has been employed, I am glad to say that expense will just be
covered and no call make upon the guarantors.
With your approval and support I should much like to give another of these Recitals in the
late Autumn—hoping to improve on those already given, for it is, I think, only by steady
perseverance that most endeavours attain perfection. There are endless beautiful works yet to
do. Some of these hitherto unknown which have already been given, I should like to repeat
until they become familiar to you, otherwise the object with which these concerts were started
is lost. The Church Recital given at St. Michael’s, Cornhill, on December 11th, seemed to give
great enjoyment. Therefore, I hope to arrange for one, or possibly two, of the next series to be
given in a Church.
It is a great joy to find there is a public really anxious to hear this music, so I want to go
on, not with the object of making money—that is, I think, improbable in giving music of this
kind, which demands so much instrumental accompaniment—but with the object of making
the music better known and loved.
Finally, may I thank personally all those 100 subscribers who took serial tickets and those
of them who so nobly guaranteed various sums of money in case of need. The knowledge of
that as a background removed a great strain from my mind. I am deeply grateful to them.
DOROTHY SILK
12, Somers Place, W.2
4
Silk, summary of first series, February 1921, Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection
CH6Da9, RCML.
265
Appendix B1
The kind support given to my last Series of Concerts of Old Music and the wishes expressed
by many that another series might be arranged, encourages me to arrange four more concerts
on the same lines and those adopted last winter, i.e., by serial subscribers and by the promise
of guarantors. The latter were not called upon last, as the concerts almost paid their way. Over
the leaf you will find the programmes, I hope to give, subject to slight alternation. If I have
your sympathy and interest will you kindly fill in the enclosed form and return to me as soon
as possible
DOROTHY SILK
12 Somers Place, W.2
October 1920
5
Silk, promotional material for second series, October 1921, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML. The rest of the
document contains a proposed programme for each concert.
266
Appendix B1
Table B1.3: Second Series, 1921–22 (Dorothy Silk’s Four Concert of Old Classical Music)6
6
‘Dorothy Silk Four Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes from the second series (1921–22), Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
267
Appendix B1
Padre Martini Italian Catches for two soprani Silk, Flora Mann
‘So che un sogno’
‘Grazie agl’inganni tuoi’
‘Grazie agli sdegni tuoi’
Bach Partita in B flat major no. 1 V. G. Woodhouse
Prelude
Allemande
Courante
Sarabande
Minuet
Gigue
Bach We Have a Fine New Master, ‘Peasant’ Cantata no. 212 for soprano, bass, flute and Silk, Goss, PSQ, Fransella
string quartet [trans. Lucy Broadwood]
Third Concert: Saturday 4 February 1922, St Michael’s Church, Cornhill
Bach Prelude and Fugue for Organ Dr Harold Darke
Tunder Oh Lord, let Thy dear Angels, Cantata for soprano, strings and organ Silk
Schütz Erhöre mich, Duet alto and bass Margaret Champneys, Frederick Woodhouse
Viola Solo Alfred Hobday
Bach ‘Erfüllet ihr himmlischen’, Aria from Cantata no. 1 for soprano and cor anglais Silk, W. Hinchliffe
obbligato
Bach ‘Fall asleep ye cares and troubles’, Aria from Wedding Cantata no. 199 for alto, Champneys
string quartet and oboe d’Amore
Bach Blessed is the Man, Cantata no. 57 for soprano, bass and string quartet Silk, F. Woodhouse, PSQ
Fourth Concert: 25 February 1922, Steinway Hall
Purcell Upon a Quiet Conscience, Duet for soprano and bass Silk, Clive Carey
Tunder Three Cantatas for Soprano and Strings Silk
An Wasserflussen Babylon
Wachet auf
Ein kleines Kindelein
Bach The spirit also helpeth us, Motet no. 2 for double chorus Newcastle-On-Tyne Bach Choir (NBC)
Bach Songs from the Schemelli Song Book Silk
‘Gieb Dich zufrieden’
‘Es ist vollbracht’
268
Appendix B1
269
Appendix B1
who most kindly guaranteed various sums of money. I am very happy to say there will be no
need to call upon them, as the concerts have just covered expenses.
DOROTHY SILK
7
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concert of Old Classical Music’, concert programme 25 February 1922, Steinway
Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
270
Appendix B1
Table B1.4: Third Series, 1922–23 (Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music)8
8
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes from the third series (1922–23), Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
271
Appendix B1
272
Appendix B1
273
Appendix B1
Table B1.5: Fourth Series, 1924 (Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music)9
9
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes from the fourth series (1924), Wigmore Hall, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
274
Appendix B1
A wish has been expressed by several of the subscribers that a Plebiscite Concert should follow this series. If reasonable support is forthcoming it will give me
great pleasure to arrange an extra concert to take place on Saturday, May 6th, at Steinway Hall, at 3.15. Owing to numerous engagements I am sorry it is
impossible to arrange an earlier date. Should you be interested, kindly fill in the next page and post to me at Steinway Hall not later than March 4th.
DOROTHY SILK
10
Silk, ‘Proposed Plebiscite Concert’, n.d. [1924], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
11
Silk, ‘Proposed Plebiscite Concert’, n.d. [1924], DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
275
Appendix B1
276
Appendix B1
Table B1.7: Fifth Series, 1925 (Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music)12
12
‘Dorothy Silk’s Concerts of Old Music’, concert programmes from the fifth series (1925), Wigmore Hall, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
277
Appendix B1
278
APPENDIX B2
13
Concert programme, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
279
Appendix B2
Table B2.3: ‘Madame Norman Salmond (piano) Chamber Concert, assisted by Dorothy
Silk (soprano), Lena Kontorowitch (violin), James Lockyer (viola), Lilian Evans (violin),
Theodor Otscharkoff (violoncello), Michael Mullinar (accompanist) at Steinway Hall,
Friday 28 November 1924.15
14
Concert programme, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
15
Concert programme, Steinway Hall: 1920–, London: Halls Collection CH6Da9, RCML.
280
Appendix B2
Table B2.4: ‘Dorothy Silk Bach Programme’ assisted by Harold Samuel (piano),
Frederick Ranalow (bass), the Hermitage Quartet (Leila Hermitage, Joyce Cook, Mary
Gladden and Helen Just), Albert Fransella (flute), Richard Newton, Claude Hobday,
Harold Darke at Wigmore Hall, 14 January 1926.16
Table B2.5: ‘The Mossel Concerts, Programme of Fourth Concert’. Artists: Maurice
Ravel (pianoforte), Dorothy Silk (vocalist), Zino Francescatti (violinist), Gerard
Hekking (violoncellist), George Reeves (accompanist) at Birmingham Town Hall,
Wednesday 17 February 1926.17
16
Concert programme, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
17
Concert programme, English Provinces: Birmingham Town Hall 1920–99 CH6Hd9, RCML.
281
Appendix B2
Table B2.6: ‘Recital by Dorothy Silk’, assisted by Harold Fairhurst, Adelina Fairhurst
and May Walker, Borough of East Ham Music Club, Fourth Season 1926–27, 18
November 1926.18
18
Concert programme, Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC, RCML.
282
Appendix B2
Table B2.7: ‘Dorothy Silk’s Concert (Bach Programme)’ at Wigmore Hall, 5 April
1927.19
283
Appendix B2
Table B2.9: ‘The Dream City’, recital by Dorothy Silk (soprano) and Vally Lasker
(accompanist) at Louise Hanson-Dyer’s Paris Housewarming Party, 9 November 1929.21
Table B2.10: ‘Henry Purcell Concert’, Merritt String Orchestra conducted by Kathleen
Merritt. Assisted by Dorothy Silk, John Goss, John Ticehurst, Dorian Singers, A Chorus
of Mixed Voices, Tuesday 1 November 1938.22
21
Concert programme, RCML.
22
Concert programme, Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC, RCML.
284
Appendix B2
23
Concert programme, Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC, RCML.
285
Appendix B2
24
Concert programmes, 1922–34, Kathleen Markwell Collection, RCML.
286
Appendix B2
Table B2.13: ‘Dorothy Silk (the Great English Soprano) Song Recital’, Dorothy Silk
(vocalist), Kathleen Markwell (accompanist) at the Town Hall Calne, Wednesday 3
February 1926.
Table B2.15: ‘Song Recital by Dorothy Silk’, Dorothy Silk (vocalist), Kathleen Markwell
(accompanist) at the First of Four Orchestral Subscription Concerts, County and
Borough Hall Guildford, 8 October 1927.
287
Appendix B2
Table B2.14: ‘Piano & Song Recital by Urquhart Cawley and Dorothy Silk’
accompanied by Kathleen Markwell, Tuesday 15 February 1927.
288
Appendix B2
Table B2.17: ‘Recital by Dorothy Silk (soprano) and Leon Goossens (oboe)’
accompanied by Kathleen Markwell at the Small Town Hall, Wednesday 21 October
1925.
289
Appendix B2
Table B2.18: ‘Recital by Dorothy Silk, Keith Falkner, Kathleen Markwell at 91 Queen’s
Gate, 23 January 1928.
Table B2.19: ‘The Lener String Quartet (Leno Lener, Joseph Smilovits, Sandor Roth,
Imre Hartman), Dorothy Silk (vocalist), Kathleen Markwell (accompanist), Kathleen
Washbourne (violin obbligato) at the Ninth Lady Reichel Concert, University College,
Bangor, Wednesday 28 November 1928.
290
Appendix B2
291
Appendix B2
Table B2.22: ‘Song and Oboe Recital Dorothy Silk and Leon Goossens’ accompanied by
Kathleen Markwell at Lewes Music Club, Lewes Corn Exchange, Saturday 4 October
1930.
Table B2.23: ‘Dorothy Silk (soprano) and Kathleen Markwell (pianist) Recital’ at
Caterham Chamber Concerts (10th Series) 1930–31, Saturday 6 December 1930.
292
Appendix B2
Table B2.24: ‘The Pro-Arte String Quartet (A. Onnou, L. Halleux, G. Prevost, R. Maas),
Dorothy Silk (vocalist), Kathleen Markwell (at the piano) at the Tenth Lady Reichel
Concert, University College, Bangor, Tuesday 12 March 1931.
Table B2.25: ‘Dorothy Silk and Keith Falkner Recital’ accompanied by Michael
Mullinar at Aeolian Hall, Thursday 22 November 1934.
293
Appendix B2
Table B2.26: Recital programme by Dorothy Silk, John Goss and Kathleen Markwell.
294
Appendix B2
295
Appendix B2
Composer Title
Motets
William Byrd Exsurge, Domine
Orlando di Lasso Justorum animae
J. P. Sweelinck Angelus ad pastores
Thomas Weelkes Hosanna to the Son of David
Madrigals, Ballets and Canzonet
Thomas Morley My bonny lass
Thomas Weelkes O care, you wilt dispath me
Thomas Morley I go before, my darling
John Wilbye As Vesta was from Latmos hill descending
Folk-songs
arr. Vaughan Williams The Lawyer
arr. Vaughan Williams The Lover's Ghost
arr. Gerard Williams Peggy Ramsey
arr. Vaughan Williams The Springtime of the year
Interval of Ten Minutes
Duets and Rota
Purcell Elegy upon the death of Queen Mary
I spy Celia
16th Century, arr. E. W. Naylor John, come kiss me now
13th Century, John of Fornsete Sumer is icumen in
Madrigals and Song
Thomas Bateson Cupid in a bed of roses
William Byrd Come, woeful Orpheus
John Bennet Lure! Falconers, Lure!
John Wilbye Stay, Corydon, you swain
25
Concert programme, Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC, RCML.
296
Appendix B2
Table B2.29: The New English Singers at Aeolian Hall, Tuesday 16 May 1933. Artists:
Dorothy Silk, Nellie Carson, Joyce Sutton, Steuart Wilson, Norman Notley and
Cuthbert Kelly.26
Composer Title
Motets
J. P. Sweelinck Gaudete omnes
William Byrd Why do I use my paper, ink and pen?
Thomas Morley Hark, Alleluia
Thomas Tomkins When David heard
Madrigals, Ballet and Canzonet
Thomas Morley About the Maypole
Orlando Gibbons Arise, get up
Thomas Weelkes Say, dear, when will your frowning leave
Appalachian Folk Songs
arr. Howard Brockway An Inconstant Lover
arr. Howard Brockway Charming Beauty Bright
arr. Howard Brockway No, Sir, No
Interval
Italian Madrigals
Jacob Arcadelt, Orazio Vecchi Il bianco e dolce cigno
Orlando di Lasso Quand mon mari
Luca Marenzio Scaldava il Sol
G. G. Gastoldi Al mormorar
Madrigals and Ballet
Thomas Greaves Come away, sweet love
Thomas Weelkes Three Virgins Nymphs
John Wilbye Draw on, sweet night
26
Concert programme, DSC CH6Tb8, RCML.
297
Appendix B2
Table B2.30: ‘The New English Singers, On their return from their recent tour in
Canada and The United States’ at Wigmore Hall, 19 February 1937. Director: Cuthbert
Kelly. Artists: Dorothy Silk, Nellie Carson, Marry Morris, Eric Greene, Peter Pears and
Cuthbert Kelly. Lute: Nellie Carson.27
Composer Title
Madrigals, Canzonet and Ballet
Thomas Morley Fire, Fire
Orlando Gibbons What is our life?
Thomas Morley I go before, my darling
John Wilbye Stay, Corydon
Madrigals and Ballet
Thomas Morley Now is the month of maying
Thomas Morley Hark! Alleluia
Thomas Weelkes Thule, the period of Cosmography
The Andalusian Merchant
Lute Songs (with Lute accompaniment)
John Bartlet Whither runneth my sweetheart (Two voices and
Lute)
John Dowland Weep you no more, sad fountains (Fours Voices
only)
Thomas Ford Fair, sweet, cruel (One voice and Lute)
John Bartlet When from my love (Four Voices and Lute)
Folk-songs
arr. Arthur Warrell The Brisk Young Winter
arr. Arthur Warrell The Riddle Song
arr. Vaughan Williams The Springtime of the Year
Short Interval
Duets (with Pianoforte accompaniment)
Purcell Let us wander
Purcell Sound the trumpets
Purcell Corydon and Mopsa
Madrigals
John Wilbye Draw on, sweet night
Thomas Weelkes Strike it up, Tabor
Thomas Weelkes My Phyllis bids me pack away
27
Concert programme, Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC, RCML.
298
APPENDIX B3
Artist: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Myra Hess (piano), Isolde Menges (violin), Orrea Pernel
(violin), Lionel Tertis (viola), Ivor James (piano) and Aubrey Thonger (horn), George Reeves
(accompanist)
Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Isolde Menges (violin), Harold Samuel (piano), Herbert Barr
(trumpet), Joseph Slater (flute), Howard Ferguson (continuo), London String Players and
Herbert Menges (conductor)
28
Unless otherwise marked all programmes are located in the Ibbs and Tillett programme folio, ITC,
RCML.
299
Appendix B3
Bach Concerto in A major for pianoforte and strings Harold Samuel, LSO
Bach ‘Süsser Trost’, Aria for soprano, flute and strings Silk, Joseph Slater,
Ferguson, LSO
Bach Concerto in A minor, for flute, violin, pianoforte Slater, Menges, Samuel,
and strings LSO
Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Astra Desmond (contralto), Bruce Flegg (tenor), Keith
Falkner (baritone), Myra Hess (piano), Harold Samuel (piano) and Howard Ferguson
(continuo)
Artists: Plunket Greene (tenor), Leon Goossens (oboe), Isolde Menges (violin), Bernard
Shore (viola), Ivor James (violoncello), Harold Samuel (piano)
300
Appendix B3
Artist: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Isolde Menges (violin), Harold Samuel (piano), Joseph Slater
(flute), Charles Souper (flute), Arliss Marriott (flute), Leon Goossens (oboe), Howard
Ferguson (continuo), London String Players, Herbert Menges (conductor)
301
Appendix B3
Artist: Fanny Davies (piano), Ralph Clarke (clarinet), Ivor James (violoncello), Gabriele
Joachim (soprano), Ethel Hobday (accompanist), Marjorie Hayward violin), Anne Wolfe
viola), Ernest Hinchcliff (double bass), Claude Hobday bassoon), Aubrey Thonger (horn)
Beethoven Septet in E flat major for violin, viola, Marjorie Hayward, Anne Wolfe,
violoncello, double bass, clarinet, Clarke, James, Ernest Hinchcliff,
bassoon and horn, op. 20 Claude Hobday, Aubrey Thonger
Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Isolde Menges (violin), Orrea Pernel (violin), Bernard Shore
(viola), Ivor James (violoncello), Douglas Cameron (double bass) and Kathleen Markwell
(accompanist)
302
Appendix B3
Finale – allegretto
Artists: Tudor Singers, Brosa String Quartet (Brosa, Wise, Rubens, Pini), James Lockyer
(viola), Bertram Davies (tenor)
Artists: Roy Henderson (baritone), Tudor Singers, Frederick Salkeld (horn), Aubrey Thonger
(horn), Sidonie Goossens (harp), London String Players, Herbert Menges (conductor)
303
Appendix B3
Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Harold Samuel (piano), Isolde Menges (violin) Eda Kesley,
Bernard Shore, Ivor James (violoncello), Leon Goossens (oboe)
‘Notice: The Committee regret to announce that owing to sudden indisposition Miss Dorothy
Silk is unable to sing to night but, Mr. Leon Goossens has kindly consented to play this
following: Concerto for Oboe in G minor – Handel’
304
Appendix B3
Artists: Myra Hess (piano), Jelly D’Ayani (violin), Felix Salmond (violoncello)
Artist: Dorothy Silk (soprano), John Goss (baritone), Nicolas Orloff (fortepiano), Isolde
Menges (violin), Lionel Tertis (viola), Ivor James (violoncello), Kathleen Markwell
(accompanist)
29
‘Recitals of the Week’, The Times, 10 October 1930, 10.
305
Appendix B3
Artists: Players from the Hallé Orchestra and Hamilton Harty (conductor)
Artists: Maggie Teyte (soprano), Leon Goossens (oboe), Irene Scharrer (piano), Kutcher
Quartet, George Reeves (accompanist)
Artist: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Isolde Menges (violin), Joseph Slatter (flute), Harold Samuel
(piano), String Players, Herbert Menges (conductor)
30
‘Recitals of the Week’, The Times, 7 November 1930, 12.
31
‘Recitals of the Week’, The Times, 21 November 1930, 12. The exact order of the programme is not
specified in the review.
32
‘Recitals of the Week’, The Times, 5 December 1930, 12. The review does not specify the exact
order of the programme, who the string players are or who accompanied Dorothy Silk. It could be
suggested that the string players were the London String Players as Herbert Menges had previously
conducted them at this concert series. Silk’s accompanist was likely Kathleen Markwell or George
Reeves.
306
Appendix B3
Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Harold Samuel (piano), Isolde Menges (violin), Alfred de
Reyghere (viola), Ivor James (violoncello) and Kathleen Markwell (accompanist)
307
Appendix B3
Artists: John Coates (tenor), William Murdoch (piano), Albert Sammons (violin) and Gerald
Moore (accompanist)
Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Isolde Menges (violin), Harold Samuel (piano), Joseph Slater
(flute), Arliss Marriot (flute), Howard Ferguson (continuo), London String Players and
Herbert Menges (conductor)
308
Appendix B3
Artists: Dorothy Silk (soprano), Elsie Suddaby (soprano), Haydn Draper, (clarinet) Isolde
Menges (violin), Pierre Tas (violin), Alfred de Reyghere (viola), Ivor James (violoncello),
Harold Samuel (piano), Kathleen Markwell (accompanist)
Artist: Ethel Bartlett, Rae Robertson, The English Singers (Flora Mann, Nellie Carson, Lillian
Berger, Norman Stone, Norman Notley, Cuthbert Kelly)
309
APPENDIX C1
33
‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times 64, no. 986 (1923): 726; ‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times
64, no. 969 (1923): 792–93.
310
Appendix C1
Table C1.2: ‘Choral Society Programmes’ announcements for London and the District
and Provinces, 1926–2734
34
‘Choral Society Programmes (First List), Musical Times 67, no. 1004 (1926): 935–37; and ‘Choral
Society Programmes (Second List), Musical Times 67, no. 1005 (1926): 1024–25.
311
Appendix C1
Table C1.3: ‘The Coming Season’ announcements for London and the Suburbs and
Provinces, 1929–3035
35
‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times 70, no. 1040 (1929): 934–36; ‘The Coming Season’, Musical
Times 70, no. 1041 (1929): 1027–29; and ‘The Coming Season’, Musical Times 70, no. 1042 (1929):
1128.
312
Appendix C1
Table C1.4: ‘The Coming Season’ announcements for London and the Suburbs and
Provinces, 1935–36.36
36
‘The Coming Season in London’, Musical Times 76, no. 1112 (1935): 938–39; ‘The Coming
Season’, Musical Times 76, no. 1113 (1929): 1024–27; and ‘The Coming Season: Supplementary List’,
Musical Times 76, no. 1114 (1929): 1136.
313
Minerva Access is the Institutional Repository of The University of Melbourne
Author/s:
Landgren, Rachel
Title:
'The Voice of England': the English soprano and the early music revival, 1920–1939
Date:
2017
Persistent Link:
http://hdl.handle.net/11343/192997
File Description:
'The Voice of England': the English soprano and the early music revival, 1920–1939