Copyright by Andrew Stephen Luchkow 2005

The Treatise Committee for Andrew Stephen Luchkow Certifies that this is the approved version of the following treatise:

Elgar His : Audio and Documentary Evidence of Style Beyond the Score

Committee:

Elliott Antokoletz, Supervisor

Phyllis Young, Co-Supervisor

Eugene Gratovich

B. David Neubert

Marianne Wheeldon

Dewayne E. Perry

ELGAR CONDUCTING HIS : AUDIO AND DOCUMENTARY EVIDENCE OF STYLE BEYOND THE SCORE

by

Andrew Stephen Luchkow B.Mus.; M.M.

Treatise Presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of The University of Texas at Austin in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of

Doctor of Musical Arts

The University of Texas at Austin December 2005

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgement is gratefully made to the publisher Novello and the trustees of the Harrison Sisters Trust Loan for use of the musical figures. Credit is given as follows: Cello Concerto [public domain]. First edition of the Solo Cello score published 1919 by Novello, . ’s copy of the First edition of the Cello Concerto, Solo Cello score, housed in the Harrison Sisters Trust Loan, Library of the , London.

I would like to thank several people for their help and encouragement: Dr. Elliott Antokoletz, my supervisor, who gave me the opportunity to engage in wonderful discussions. His endless knowledge and experience has catalyzed this treatise. Phyllis Young, my cello professor and mentor for the past four and a half years. Her world-renowned knowledge has shown me a world of possibility in playing and teaching the cello. My committee members: Dr. Eugene Gratovich, Dr. David Neubert, Dr. Marianne Wheeldon, and Dr. Dewayne Perry for their suggestions and encouragement. Dr. David Hunter, the chief librarian at the University of Texas Fine Arts Library, who went out of his way to order and then urgently expedite several items for me.

Thank you also to: Claude Kenneson, the cello teacher of my youth. Your inspiring musicality and your gift of storytelling personalized music for me and influenced who I am.

iv My siblings, and their spouses, Paul, Glenys, Angela, James, Mark, and Cyrena, as well as my two nieces, Ingrid and Sadie, for growing up with me and sharing your love of life and music with me. My parents Marshall and Leona for loving me more than I can imagine. My friend Miranda Wilson, not only for this computer, but for coming from New Zealand to take care of Janelle and I before the wedding. And thank you to my wife Janelle. You are a God-send and my best friend. Thank you for sharing your life with me, for consistently helping me lose all sense of time at the dinner table during our endless talking, for assuming my responsibilities countless times when I thought I could do it myself and ran out of time, and finally for sharing your love, your honesty, and your faith with me.

v Elgar Conducting His Cello Concerto: Audio and Documentary Evidence of Style Beyond the Score

Publication No.______

Andrew Stephen Luchkow, D.M.A. The University of Texas at Austin, 2005

Supervisors: Elliott Antokoletz and Phyllis Young

Edward Elgar conducted his Cello Concerto Op.85 twice in the recording studio in 1919 and 1928, both times with solo cellist Beatrice Harrison. These audio recordings differ greatly from more recent interpretations.

The recordings reveal unique phrasing and tempo flexibility, as well as regular use of string portamento – audibly sliding between notes – throughout the whole work. This treatise analyzes the Elgar-Harrison recordings identifying those stylistic performance traits beyond the score: that strongly correlate with evidence of Elgar’s comments on performance style; that strongly correlate with the markings in Harrison’s copy of the solo cello part; and that are clearly present in the recordings, but not commented on by Elgar or Harrison.

There is much conjecture written about Elgar and his musical style beyond the score. For this reason, the internal view of what Elgar said and did is separated from the external view of witness accounts and secondary evidence. The consistencies and inconsistencies within and between these internal and external views are then tested for accuracy and integrity.

vi Table of Contents

List of Tables ...... ix

List of Figures...... x

INTRODUCTION 1

ELGAR THE MUSICIAN: THE INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL VIEWS 4

The Internal View: Elgar on Performance...... 4

The External View: Witnesses of Elgar’s Conducting ...... 8

ELGAR AND THE INTERPRETERS: THE INTERNAL VIEW 15

The Manuscript Development...... 16

The Concerto in Elgar’s Letters...... 17

ELGAR AND THE INTERPRETERS: THE EXTERNAL VIEW 19

Elgar and Salmond’s Collaboration...... 20

Elgar and Harrison’s Collaboration ...... 21

Harrison’s Print Copies of the First Edition Solo Part...... 24

THE HARRISON-ELGAR RECORDINGS: THE INTERNAL VIEW 25

Portamento: Audible Sliding Between Notes ...... 25

General Tempos...... 27

Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the Harrison – Elgar Recordings and Harrison’s Markings ...... 31

Movement I: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1928 Recording and Harrison’s Markings ...... 32

Movement II: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1928 Recording and Harrison’s Markings ...... 44

Movement III: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1919 and 1928 Recordings and Harrison’s Markings ...... 60 vii Movement IV: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1928 Recording and Harrison’s Markings ...... 72

THE HARRISON-ELGAR RECORDINGS: THE EXTERNAL VIEW 85

The Recording Process Before 1925...... 85

Musical Implications of the Pre-1925 Recording Process...... 87

Recordings 1925...... 88

Limited Rehearsals and the Deputy Substitute System ...... 89

Comparisons with Thoroughly Rehearsed ...... 91

Portamento Style or Crutch?...... 92

CONCLUSION 94

Appendix A: List of Harrison’s Markings in Her Complete Copy...... 96

Appendix B: Approximate Tempos of Recordings ...... 99

Bibliography ...... 104

Discography ...... 106

Vita ...... 107

viii List of Tables

Table 1, Harrison’s portamento markings and result in the recordings...... 26

Table 2, Movement timings in minutes and seconds...... 29

Table 3, Mov. I, Approximate tempos of recordings...... 99

Table 4, Mov. II, Approximate tempos of recordings ...... 100

Table 5, Mov. III, Approximate tempos of recordings...... 101

Table 6, Mov. IV, Approximate tempos of recordings...... 102

Table 7, Mov. IV (Continued), Approximate tempos of recordings ...... 103

ix List of Figures

Figure 1, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. I, m.1-18...... 32

Figure 2, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.4-6 ...... 46

Figure 3, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.11-12 ...... 48

Figure 4, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.39-42 ...... 53

Figure 5, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.43-48 ...... 54

Figure 6, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.77-87 ...... 57

Figure 7, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. III, m.1-7...... 61

Figure 8, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. III, m.29-42...... 67

Figure 9, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.9-13...... 73

Figure 10, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.75-80...... 78

Figure 11, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.239-257...... 81

Figure 12, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.315-335...... 83

x INTRODUCTION

Although ’s Cello Concerto Op.85 has endeared itself in the concert halls and recording collections of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, most cellists are not aware that Elgar conducted his Cello Concerto twice in the recording studio, both times, in 1919 and 1928, with cello soloist Beatrice Harrison. These recordings reveal a world of performance style beyond the score closely directed by the creator himself. Harrison was a celebrated international soloist and, except for the concerto’s first performance, Elgar always chose to perform with her whenever he conducted the

Concerto in public concerts and recording sessions.1

She rehearsed with him extensively both privately and with orchestras, making many verbal and symbolic markings in her personal copy of the solo score, many of which are very likely insights communicated by the composer. This type of insight is rare since none of the other celebrated solo instrumentalists with which Elgar recorded had such a long lasting and consistent musical collaboration with him as Harrison. A great deal of musical style beyond the score is expressed in these two Harrison-Elgar recorded performances and there is much consistency between the stylistic traits in the recordings and Harrison’s markings.

The recordings reveal unique tempos, phrasing, and nuance, as well as frequent use of string portamento – audibly sliding between notes – throughout the whole concerto. And they also reveal changes in general performance styles and technical standards over the past eighty-five years. This treatise will analyze the Harrison-Elgar

1 Jerrold N. Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 331. 1 recordings, identifying those stylistic traits beyond the score that strongly correlate with evidence of Elgar’s general comments on musical style, that strongly correlate with the markings in Harrison’s copy of the solo cello part, and that are clearly present in the recordings but not commented on by Elgar or Harrison.

The case of Elgar is unique in the history of music because he was the first major composer to conduct virtually all of his orchestral works in the recording studio, between 1914 and 1933, so that future generations could hear for themselves how he performed them. Yet, cellists almost always acquire their interest in this concerto from popular recorded interpreters like Jacqueline du Pré, , Shauna Rolston, or Pieter Wispelwey, and while these popular interpreters have likely heard the Harrison- Elgar recordings, most cellists generally have not. These recordings, as well as Harrison’s markings, have the potential to significantly impact the interpretive decisions of cellists who perform the Concerto.

A music recording analysis brings many new problems into a traditional documentary study of style beyond the score. Although Elgar’s recorded performances are full of clear and vivid stylistic traits not found in the score, questions must be asked, such as ‘did he like everything about the ’s performance after rehearsing just a single time?’ or ‘was there anything in the recording of which he did not approve?’ These questions are nearly impossible to answer without speculating. While Elgar’s many recorded performances are highly detailed sources of primary evidence, they do not always represent the composer’s ideal. He might have had silent regrets about the recorded performances that will never be known. One cannot be reasonably sure that the style beyond the score in the recordings is what he ultimately intended unless he actually

2 said or wrote that it was. And even if he did speak of his musical style, we would still have to test his words and actions against witness accounts of him, as well as other factual evidence surrounding him, for consistency and integrity in case his style has been misrepresented. In short, the writer can only “make a case” for Elgar’s style beyond the score.

There is a prime reason why Elgar can easily be misrepresented. On the topic of music he was a man of few words. His dear friend Dora Powell – one of the portraits in Elgar’s “Enigma” Variations – remembers, “In one matter, strangely perhaps, he was very consistent. He did not like talking about music, with the result that casual visitors, who naturally expected the conversation to be about music, frequently went away

disappointed or even irritated.”2

Since the analysis of audio-recordings can very easily lead to a misrepresentation of facts, this discussion of style beyond the score in Elgar’s Cello Concerto, will be divided into the internal view of evidence from Elgar himself, and the external view of evidence from witness accounts and secondary sources. The purpose of this is to separate Elgar’s words and actions from other people’s conjecture about him as much as possible, and to check each view for consistency. The discussion will begin broadly with a view of

Elgar the musician, then move to a closer view of Elgar and the interpreters of the Concerto, and finally a detailed view of the Harrison-Elgar recordings.

2 Dora M. Powell, “The Music Maker (Dorabella Remembers),” in Edward Elgar Centenary Sketches, ed. H. A. Chambers (London: Novello, 1957), 38. 3 ELGAR THE MUSICIAN: THE INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL VIEWS

The Internal View: Elgar on Performance

Edward Elgar wrote very little on the subject of performance style. Since all of the evidence presented in this section comes from quotes by Elgar himself, and not from any witness accounts or secondary sources, it would be more appropriate to call this section “internal glimpses” rather than “the internal view,” due to the sparse and varied nature of the evidence. The subject of performance style is absent from all of his writings, apart from his praise of audio recordings and their great educational value. And talk of performance style is also absent from virtually all of Elgar’s letters. Comments can only be found in a few performance commentaries and other passing references. In some cases a comment shows an example of his knowledge of string bowing technique, shows an example of how he talked positively or negatively about a performance, or shows his approval of an orchestra that was rhythmically flexible compared to a more technically unified one. But together they do not give us a clear picture of Elgar’s performance style, only a glimpse here and there.

When scholars describe how Elgar performed his music, they often quote the same letter, or at least extract descriptive words from it, to reinforce their point. In the summer of 1903, Elgar wrote a letter to , a representative of his music publisher. Jaeger was also a dear friend whom the composer portrayed in his “Enigma” Variations as Nimrod. In this letter Elgar appears to be in a bad mood concerning his career, and writes the following about his preferred performance style:

… You are a bonny boy to talk of my career! I know nothing of any such thing. I only know that my things are performed – when they go as I like – elastically and 4 mystically [ – ] people grumble – when they are conducted squarely & sound like a wooden box these people are pleased to say it’s better. It’s a curious thing that the performances which I have hated & loathed as being caricatures of my thoughts are the very ones held up as patterns! …3

Scholars often quote Elgar’s descriptive words from this letter, because all of his other comments on performance style are more circumstantial, yet in other passing references he shows a glimpse of how particular he was about stylistic details, having a great deal of conducting experience including the principal conductorship of the London

Symphony Orchestra for two years.4 He was an accomplished pianist, always accompanying solo instrumentalists as he coached them on the interpretation of his music, and he was also an experienced violinist during his younger years. In a letter to conductor in 1920, after Boult’s performance of the Second Symphony, Elgar reveals some of his knowledge of string technique. He writes, “The ‘Boys’ will take very long bows when the thing flows -wise – I wish we cd. mark the parts as some of the old fiddle books were with a bow & pricks shewing the part of the bow to be used thus.”5

Elgar’s performance commentaries are so few and far between, that it is easy to assume that he might have been agreeable to most performances of his music, or at least

indifferent about them; yet, in another letter, Elgar shows that he sometimes expressed disagreement with some interpretations of his music. He wrote the following sarcastic and self-deprecating letter to Compton Mackenzie, the editor of Gramophone magazine,

3 Edward Elgar, Letter, 1 July 1903, in Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar and His Publishers: Letters of a Creative Life, vol. 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987) 454-455. 4 Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 3. 5 Edward Elgar, Letter, 17 March 1920, in Jerrold N. Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 335. 5 in 1928 in response to Mackenzie’s request for comments on a recording of Elgar’s “Introduction and Allegro” for Strings. Elgar’s response focuses mainly on the conductor of the recording, . In it Elgar writes:

Further to this I ought to say the tempi (be sure to put tempi in italics, as that shews learning, – we know a thing or two about music, you and I) are mainly correct; Mr. Barbiroli here and there makes a pause somewhat longer than the composer (the composer was six feet when the composition was written) but as he, owing to age and general decrepitude (I don’t think) has become shorter there must be a sort of inverse ratio-complex (put that, because it shews we read things). I do not know how long the pause is, but I know that Mr. Barbirolli is an extremely able youth and, very properly has ideas of his own, added to which he is a remarkably able conductor…6 It is worth noting that Barbirolli had also performed in the cello section of the London Symphony Orchestra (LSO) during the first performance of Elgar’s Cello Concerto in 1919. Later in 1965 Barbirolli conducted the famous recorded performance of the Concerto with cellist Jacqueline du Pré and the LSO.

One of Elgar’s passing references in another letter conveys an apparent indifference to contrasting performance styles, yet after a closer look he seems to be showing his approval of a particular performance style. In this letter to the Gramophone recording company in 1933, Elgar responds to a proposal to rerecord his overture “Cockaigne” onto three record sides with the British Broadcasting Corporation Symphony Orchestra. “By all means do ‘Cockaigne’ again: is there anything wrong with

the old four side records?”7 The previous time that Elgar recorded “Cockaigne” was in 1926 with the Orchestra (RAHO). The BBCSO was formed in 1930

6 Edward Elgar, Letter, 6 July 1928, in Jerrold N. Moore ,Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 84. 7 Edward Elgar, Letter, 23 March 1933, in Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 195, reprinted in Robert Philip, “The Recordings of Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Authenticity and Performance Practice.” Early Music 12, No. 4 (November 1984), 481-89. 6 and was by far the most technically unified British orchestra of Elgar’s time before his death in 1934, and it was certainly more unified than the RAHO. In all of his letters the composer never shows a preference for the BBCSO and its rhythmic clarity over other first-rate British orchestras.

Robert Philip, a scholar of early audio recordings, compares the composer’s apparent approval of the RAHO’s recorded performance of “Cockaigne” in this letter

with the performance style observed in the two recordings.8 Although Elgar had plenty of experience conducting both the RAHO and the BBCSO, Philip concludes that the composer does not appear to show a preference for the technically unified BBCSO over the rhythmically flexible but less unified RAHO. Instead Elgar seems to be expressing his approval of the performance of “Cockaigne” recorded by the RAHO, the same orchestra that performed on the 1928 Harrison-Elgar recording of the Cello Concerto. In fact this letter seems to suggest that Elgar’s preference for music performed “elastically” and not “squarely … like a wooden box”9 may have also applied to aspects of the performance style of the RAHO during the 1920s. Today this rhythmically flexible performance style is usually considered excessive and uncontrolled.

In a similar train of thought, Philip writes about two early recordings of Elgar’s

“Enigma” Variations, one performed by the composer and the RAHO in 1926 and another conducted by in 1932. Philip compares the musical style in Elgar’s recording of the RAHO with the composer’s pencil markings in his personal score which were written upon hearing this 1926 recorded performance of the “Enigma”

8 Robert Philip, “The Recordings of Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Authenticity and Performance Practice.” Early Music 12, No. 4 (November 1984), 481-89. 9 Edward Elgar, Letter, 1 July 1903, in Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar and His Publishers: Letters of a Creative Life, vol. 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987) 454-455. 7 Variations. He concludes that Elgar approved of certain tempos as well as a flexibility of rhythm which would be considered unusual today. Philip writes:

In the earliest two recordings (conducted by Elgar 1926, and Harty 1932) it is again difficult to separate rhythmic style from matters of competence. In both performances, Variation 7 is played very fast (faster than Elgar’s metronome marking) and with less control of the rhythm than would be expected in a late twentieth-century performance. In patterns of minims [half notes] and crotchets [quarter notes], which occur throughout this variation, the crotchets are often hurried and weak under Elgar, and only a little clearer and more controlled under Harty. In Variation 3, both performances (recordings conducted by Elgar and Harty) show a rhythmic adjustment which is similar to overdotting. … We know that Elgar was satisfied with his recorded performance of the Variations (Royal Albert Hall Orchestra, cond Elgar, rec. 1926) because the penciled comments on this recording in his copy of the score … include several expressions of enthusiasm. Over the beginning of Variation 7 he writes ‘fine’, and his only comments for variation 3 are ‘delightful’ (over bar 8) and ‘perfect!’ (four bars from the end)… He seems to have had reservations about his tempo for one of the slower variations, variation 8, because he writes at the head of it, ‘Agree with Dr. R. a leetle slower’ – probably a reference to Hans Richter who conducted the première of the variations, and who presumably used to take this variation more slowly than Elgar did.10

Regrettably there is no such evidence of similar comments by Elgar on specific aspects of the Harrison-Elgar recorded performances in any of his writings, letters, or personal score markings. But, the comments that he makes about his other recordings reveal some interesting insight into his collaboration with the RAHO; the orchestra that performed in the 1928 Harrison-Elgar recording of the Cello Concerto.

The External View: Witnesses of Elgar’s Conducting

Since Elgar frequently conducted his works, it is natural to ask what others thought of his performance style. Witness accounts of his conducting in public concerts

10 Robert Philip, Early Recordings and Musical Style: Changing Tastes in Instrumental Performance, 1900-1950 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 81-82, 36. 8 can support or weaken the integrity of the evidence for style beyond the score in Elgar’s audio-recorded performances. One example is Elgar’s reputation for taking fast tempos in the recording studio. Some of his recordings finish within ten seconds of the maximum available space on the record, so he most likely compromised his preferred tempo and rushed some part of the performance to prevent running over. However some witness accounts of his public performances claim that he often took fast tempos in the concert hall as well. These examples show that making a case for Elgar’s preferred tempos will be a matter of finding consistency among all of the evidence, although many witness accounts of Elgar’s conducting are less descriptive of him than they are revealing of the public’s opinion of him.

Elgar conducted orchestras frequently throughout his career, and his experience from regular conducting engagements eventually led to his appointment as principal

conductor11 of the London Symphony Orchestra, succeeding Hans Richter.12 The appointment started in 1911 and lasted until 1913. In 1914, while he continued his many conducting engagements at public performances, he also began accepting conducting engagements with the Gramophone Recording Company. Between 1914 and 1934, the year of his death, he conducted fifty-seven recording sessions, most of them during the

last eight years of his life.13 In many of the witness accounts of Elgar’s conducting, he is described as having a very individual conducting manner. The wording of these accounts can sometimes be interpreted in terms of both positive and negative values. This makes it nearly impossible

11 Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 3. 12 Robert Anderson, Elgar (London: J. M. Dent, 1993), 104. 13 Moore, Elgar on Record, 1. 9 to construct a clear view of his conducting style. Robert Philip, a scholar of early recordings, quotes several concert reviews of Elgar’s performances. In one from 1926, Elgar was described in his public performance of the ‘Enigma’ Variations on 26 April, two days before he conducted it in the recording studio, the Musical Times reported:

It is indeed a privilege to have great music interpreted by its author when it so happens that he is incomparably its best interpreter. Sir Edward has a drastic way of hacking at his music. All sorts of things which other conductors carefully foster, he seems to leave to take their chance. He cuts a way through in a fashion both nervous and decisive. At the end we realize that detail and rhetorical niceties have been put in their right place, and that the essential tale has been vividly told. Credit is due to the Orchestra for its response to Sir Edward’s uneasy, wilful, beat.14

Robert Philip also quotes a review of the recorded performance of the “Enigma” variations which took place on 28 April, two days after the public concert mentioned above. The review is printed in Gramophone magazine, where the writer states, “The tendency is to take some of the variations at break-neck pace. In No.7 (“Troyte”) the

drums are not as clear as I should like them to be. The speed is partly responsible…”15 These two quotes seem to suggest that while some people considered his tempos to be fast and undesirable, Elgar showed consistency between his recorded and public performance of the “Enigma” Variations, giving a similar impression in the concert hall as he gives on the record.

There are many first witness accounts of Elgar’s conducting in the compilation edited by H. A. Chambers called Edward Elgar: Centenary Sketches, published in 1957, the centenary of his birth. All of the writers are close acquaintances of Elgar and they all

14 Musical Times 67, June 1926, 550, in Robert Philip, “The Recordings of Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Authenticity and Performance Practice,” Early Music 12, No. 4 (November 1984), 484-5. 15 Gramophone 4, (1926-7), 415-6, in Robert Philip, “The Recordings of Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Authenticity and Performance Practice,” Early Music 12, No. 4 (November 1984), 484-5. 10 affectionately describe his conducting performances. For this reason their descriptions are more likely constructions of their affection than of objective fact. With contributions from John Barbirolli, Adrian Boult, Allan Kirby, and Dora Powell among others, their words are both profound and vague.

John Barbirolli wrote of Elgar’s conducting, having witnessed it several times including from the cello section of the London Symphony Orchestra (LSO) during the first performance of the Cello Concerto conducted by Elgar. Later Barbirolli made a name for himself as a conductor and was considered by many to be an authoritative interpreter of Elgar’s music, including the Cello Concerto during the famous recorded performance of Jaqueline du Pré with the LSO in 1965. He writes:

As an orchestral musician it was my good fortune to play under him on many occasions, and although he may not have been a great conductor in the professional sense of the term, anybody sensitive to his music could not fail to glean a wonderful insight into how he wanted his music played – a lesson I hope I have never forgotten.16

Adrian Boult was another conductor considered to be an authoritative interpreter of Elgar’s music. He conducted the BBC Symphony Orchestra from its beginning in 1930, and is considered by many to have quickly raised the standard of orchestral ensemble and accuracy present in Britain at that time. Later in 1945 he conducted the BBC Symphony Orchestra during Pablo Casal’s 1945 recorded performance of the Cello Concerto. He writes:

Forty years or so ago it was not difficult to find someone who fancied himself (or herself) as an amateur musical critic who would unhesitatingly write off Edward Elgar as a “very poor conductor”. And yet, when pressed, they might be persuaded to admit that they could remember one or two very fine performances

16 John Barbirolli, “Forty years with Elgar’s Music,” in Edward Elgar Centenary Sketches, ed. H. A. Chambers (London: Novello, 1957), 3-4. 11 under his direction. Readers of Miss McVeagh’s life will remember that when he came to live in London in 1912 he took over the greater part of the London Symphony Orchestra’s Symphony Concert season, and conducted them on several tours which included, besides his own work, symphonies like Brahms’s Third and Schumann’s First, for which he had a special affection …

It was not difficult to note that Elgar, although he had had a very great experience of music making in a number of different fields, had not had the day-to-day practice in the orchestral and choral world which had helped these five artists [other great conductors] to their great positions.

At the same time he was obviously a man of vast understanding with a fine critical faculty, which had been exercised in many directions, not only musical, and he was the kind of man who could not contribute to anything without adding distinction to it. And so, when he stood before a choir or orchestra, there was at once a deep respect, and his nervous, electric beat unfailingly added a tension and a lustre which produced a tone quality one came to recognize as highly personal…

Musicians who heard Elgar conduct are getting fewer in number, but I think they will all agree that if they could make a list of the finest performances they had ever heard of Elgar’s works, nearly, if not all of them, would turn out to have been conducted by Elgar himself.17

In the same compilation, Alan Kirby describes his general impression of Elgar’s conducting:

I shall never forget Elgar’s striking personality, nor the spiritual atmosphere he engendered. His works have never sounded quite the same as when he conducted them. The impact of that performance is something I shall always remember. Its inspiration made me continue to study the work.18

And finally Dora Powell also wrote of his conducting:

I heard a good deal of in 1902-3, and how I loved it! … I shall never forget the beauty of the first performance at Birmingham in 1903. … As to

17 Adrian C. Boult, “Composer as Conductor,” in Edward Elgar Centenary Sketches, ed. H. A. Chambers (London: Novello, 1957), 8-10. 18 Alan J. Kirby, “The Apostles and ” in Edward Elgar Centenary Sketches, ed. H. A. Chambers (London: Novello, 1957), 25. 12 Elgar, his conducting that day established him in the musical world as the finest conductor of his own choral works.19

Outside of this compilation of affectionate Elgar “sketches”, Adrian Boult wrote very differently about Elgar’s conducting. In one of Boult’s letters quoted by Robert Philip, he writes:

With Elgar anything might happen. I have heard him slash through things when he was in a bad temper for no reason at all that one could find, so much so that if I made a mark in my score I used to put the date as well because he did things so very differently at different times.20

Younger generations of Elgar scholars have also commented on his conducting, most notably Michael Kennedy and Robert Philip. Kennedy writes:

Even more fundamental is the matter of tempi. Elgar (and other conductors) took his music a good deal faster than any modern conductors. But, ignoring or extending indications in the score as the case might be, he greatly varied the tempo within individual movements, accelerating and decelerating in a manner that bore out his expressed wish that his music should be played ‘mystically an elastically’, not squarely. He had an entirely individual mastery of tempo rubato to which orchestras were clearly responsive (another indication of his technical effectiveness as a conductor) and a cavalier attitude to his metronome markings

… Elgar’s volatility makes his performances of his own works more dramatic and exciting than almost anyone else’s. In the works he recorded, with few exceptions (when he was obviously in one of his uninterested moods), the music glows and surges with an ardour that the limitations of recording techniques cannot prevent being transmitted to the listener.21

19 Dora M. Powell “The Music Maker (Dorabella Remembers),” in Edward Elgar Centenary Sketches, ed. H. A. Chambers (London: Novello, 1957), 41. 20 Letter to Edward Johnson, 14 Dec. 1971, in Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 148. 21 Michael Kennedy, “Some Elgar Interpreters” in Elgar Studies, ed. Raymond Monk, Brookfield VT: Scolar Press, Gower Publishing Company, 1990. 225-6. 13 Robert Philip’s comments on Elgar’s conducting seem to complement Kennedy’s. Philip writes:

Several reports make it clear that he was an unpredictable conductor of his music, taking different tempos depending on his mood of the day … but whatever the truth … Elgar made a habit of moulding his music flexibly, and critics of the same time make it clear that flexibility was the hallmark of Elgar’s conducting style in the concert hall.22

These impressions of Elgar’s conducting seem to conflict, and yet they all suggest that he had an individual manner of conducting. It is difficult to separate the facts of nature of his conducting from the personal bias of each writer. The positive comments could possibly be attributed to each writer’s general affection for the composer, while the negative comments could possibly be attributed to his Victorian-era appearance from the perspective of a younger generation that valued “utilitarian efficiency” and detested “extravagant nuance.” Although Elgar’s conducting style cannot be distinguished from all of the conjecture, at least the frequency and consistency of his recording career testifies to his preference for his own conducted interpretations over other conductor’s interpretations of his music.

22 Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 147, 148. 14 ELGAR AND THE INTERPRETERS: THE INTERNAL VIEW

When Elgar was composing the Cello Concerto in 1919, he collaborated frequently with cello soloist . Many of Salmond’s recommendations became a part of the first published edition, although they cannot be distinguished from Elgar’s other notation except for the bowings and fingerings.

Elgar wrote very little about the development of the Cello Concerto, apart from a few verbal clues in his manuscripts. However, any concerns that cellists may have about notational errors and inconsistencies in the Concerto are thoroughly dealt with in a new

edition of the score, published by Baerenreiter-Verlag.23 The edition has an objective and factual critical commentary discussing which of Elgar’s manuscripts are the most authoritative, and also includes a color reproduction of Elgar’s final draft manuscript of the solo cello part.

Elgar also wrote a few short letters regarding his collaboration with cello soloist Felix Salmond, for the first performance of the Concerto, and with cello soloist Beatrice Harrison for subsequent performances and recordings. Elgar’s letters regarding the soloists are relevant to a discussion of performance style beyond the score since it is important to look at any evidence that shows the extent of his relationship with those interpreters whom he entrusted to express his musical ideas. Evidence for the way they worked together could reveal the nature of his approval, and reveal whether he disapproved of anything the soloists did.

23 Baerenreiter Urtext: Critical Commentary of “Concerto in E minor for Violoncello and Orchestra, op.85” by Edward Elgar (Kassel, Germany: Baerenreiter-Verlag, 2005) catalog no. BA 9040. 15 The Manuscript Development

The question of authority among the various autograph manuscripts of the solo cello part has been addressed in the Baerenreiter Urtext Critical Commentary, and because of its objective factual nature it was chosen to become part of the internal view. The editor writes:

Page 1 [of ‘AS,’ the autograph solo cello part] (Footnote: In the British Library, Loan 69.4) is of especial interest. In the top left corner is a pencil marking from the publishers, in the same hand as that in A [‘A’ is the autograph full score] (Footnote: Royal College of Music MS 4229) regarding the “phrasing, bowing &c of the Solo Cello part” [referred to in A] … , as follows: Query: copy bowing marks into Full Score, and make phrasing there agree with this. The cleffing also differs from that in printed Piano Score proofs. In green ink Elgar deleted “Query” and wrote beside it “Yes”, and this is clear evidence that Elgar regarded AS as being the authoritative, final text for the Solo Vc part (the problem of the clefs was never addressed).24

The editor also writes:

“Almost certainly a few markings in X [‘X’ is an earlier autograph draft piano reduction score] were simply overlooked in AS (e.g. I 27, II 54 accents), but in principle AS was meticulously prepared for printing, superseding all other versions of the Solo part.… This is also clear from the many hairpins; AS is the only source in which these were minutely adjusted and defined. It is clear, therefore, that AS is the most authoritative source for the Solo Vc part.”25

In this urtext edition of the solo part the editor however left out the cello fingerings and a few other markings deemed highly personal to the soloist Felix Salmond, although it is impossible to distinguish every marking that was personal to Salmond. Yet, even if it was possible, his markings should not be wholly rejected or ignored since Elgar

24 Baerenreiter Urtext Critical Commentary of “Concerto in E minor for Violoncello and Orchestra, op.85” by Edward Elgar (Kassel, Germany: Baerenreiter-Verlag, 2005) catalog no. BA 9040, 26-27. 25 Ibid, 27. 16 approved of a few material changes made to the score by Salmond, as is evidenced in the

following letter by Elgar.26

The Concerto in Elgar’s Letters

On 22 July 1929 Elgar replied to Harold Brooke of publisher Novello, who had asked Elgar about some points in the solo cello part:

Alas! I have no copy! I think the ‘Cello Solo part is mostly correct regarding the small details – I seem to remember that Felix Salmond evolved some little improvements – I will try and call this week.27

Elgar’s collaboration with Harrison spanned a much longer period of time. Most of Elgar’s letters to Harrison concern recording and concert engagements. The first letter printed below was written after the recording session for the 1919 recording of the Concerto. Elgar wrote to Harrison:

The Athenaeum, Pall Mall, S.W.I. Tuesday [23 Dec. 1919] Dear Miss Beatrice Harrison I hope you are not tired after yesterday: recording is rather an ordeal. I wanted to send a word of thanks to you for your beautiful playing & also for your patience With kind regards Believe me to be Yours very sny Edward Elgar28

26 Baerenreiter Urtext Critical Commentary of “Concerto in E minor for Violoncello and Orchestra, op.85” by Edward Elgar (Kassel, Germany: Baerenreiter-Verlag, 2005) catalog no. BA 9040, 27. 27 Edward Elgar, Letter, 22 July 1929, in Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar and His Publishers: Letters of a Creative Life, vol. 2 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987), 863. 28 Edward Elgar, Letter, 23 December 1919, in Jerrold N. Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 330-331. 17 A letter from Elgar to Harrison is quoted in The Strad magazine. After a public performance of the Concerto he wrote:

I must send you one word of sincere thanks for your exquisite playing yesterday. I hope to have the pleasure of hearing you play the Concerto many more times. fWith very best regards, believe me to be yours sincerely and gratefully, Edward Elgar.29

In another letter to Harrison he wrote about the sensitive matter of convincing the (Music) Festival organizers to engage the first female instrumentalist ever allowed to perform in its prime venue:

37, St.James’s Place, S.W.I. march 7 1924 My dear Beatrice: … I hear, quite privately, that you will be asked to honour me by playing the Concerto at Hereford festival in Septr. In the Cathedral [her previous Festival performances having been at the Wednesday Evening Secular ]. Please do not mention this yet – but I hope it will come true. I see it is in the enclosed programme & have asked for you, or rather shewed the most marked approval of you when names were suggested!! So it is as good as settled[:] I hope you will be free for the date All good wishes Yrs very sncly Edward Elgar30

29 Edward Elgar, Letter, in Patricia Cleveland-Peck, “The Lady of the Nightingales”, The Strad 103, no.1232 (December 1992), 1176. 30 Edward Elgar, Letter, 7 March 1924, in Jerrold N. Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 379-380. 18 ELGAR AND THE INTERPRETERS: THE EXTERNAL VIEW

There are several witness accounts regarding Elgar’s collaboration with the soloists. His relationships with Felix Salmond and Beatrice Harrison are mentioned in

the diary of Elgar’s wife Alice,31 and in Harrison’s autobiography.32 Again, it is important to look at evidence of Elgar’s relationships with those interpreters whom he entrusted to express his musical ideas. What kind of approval did he express? And, was there anything about them that he disapproved of that should be considered not part of Elgar’s intended musical style?

Following this evidence, there is a background discussion of Harrison’s score markings. A listing of Harrison’s score markings is also printed in an appendix at the end of the treatise. Although Elgar approved of both Salmond and Harrison, their markings are highly personal and therefore considered here to be part of the external view. Salmond’s fingerings are in the autograph solo cello part, now kept in the British

Library.33 Harrison’s fingerings and markings are in her first edition34 print copy of the solo cello score now kept in the Royal College of Music Library, Harrison Sisters Trust Loan. Elgar coached Harrison on the Concerto several times, and highly approved of her numerous performances under his baton. Many of her score annotations are likely to have been communicated by the composer.

31 Often referred to by scholars as “Lady Elgar.” 32 Beatrice Harrison, The Cello and the Nightingales: The Autobiography of Beatrice Harrison, ed. Patricia Cleveland-Peck (London: J. Murray, 1985). 33 British Library, Loan 69.4; and a complete color facsimile in the Baerenreiter Urtext Critical Commentary of “Concerto in E minor for Violoncello and Orchestra, op.85” by Edward Elgar (Kassel, Germany: Baerenreiter-Verlag, 2005) catalog no. BA 9040. 34 The first edition is (London: Novello, 1919) catalog no. 14633. 19 The Baerenreiter Urtext Critical Commentary acknowledges the significance of her markings by reproducing a black and white facsimile of the first page of her solo cello score, as well as a listing of fifty-five of the most significant markings from the whole concerto. Yet, Baerenreiter’s discussion only scratches the surface of Harrison’s score. Her verbal markings and notation alterations are extensive, and deserve to be made more accessible since anyone who wishes to view a copy of her score must receive permission from the Harrison family.

Elgar and Salmond’s Collaboration

Solo cellist Felix Salmond played the first performance of the Concerto on 27 , and also worked with the composer in the preceding months. From June to October Salmond met several times with Elgar to play the Concerto in progress. The first

edition of the composer’s cello and piano arrangement35 was published in November of

that year, containing a solo part that closely matches the autograph solo cello part,36 excluding all of Salmond’s fingerings except for one in the second measure of the work.

Alice Elgar’s account of Elgar and Salmond’s collaboration – in single quotations – is elaborated on by Robert Anderson in two of his books:

It is only at the beginning of June 1919 that Lady Elgar makes specific mention of a ‘concerto’. Part of it was played on 2 June to Landon Ronald, who ‘loved it at once’; three days later ‘Felix Salmond came up after dinner to try Cello Concerto, sounded beautiful. F.S. most delighted & enthusiastic’, Salmond returned to Severn House on 10 June: ‘E. working very hard not out at all. F. Salmond came & played the Concerto with great delight,…37

35 (London: Novello, 1919) catalog no. 14633. 36 In the British Library, Loan 69.4. 37 Robert Anderson, Elgar in Manuscript (London: The British Library, 1990), 121. 20

Anderson also writes in another book, “On 5 July Felix Salmond joined Elgar for

a play-through of the Concerto to a group of friends at Severn House.”38 Anderson then continues in his earlier book:

On 31 July Salmond came to Brinkwells: ‘After tea playing Concerto & after dinner – It sounded perfectly beautiful – It is a flawless work’. Elgar had now asked Salmond to give the first performance, and Lady Elgar reported his reaction: ‘thrilled with the thought of playing the Concerto for the 1st time & wildly excited about it, did not sleep all night thinking about it’.”39

The first performance on 27 October was a disappointment. On the concert program, Elgar shared the conducting podium with , the new director of the London Symphony Orchestra, who monopolized most of Elgar’s rehearsal time for the concert in order to make a good first impression. This happened during both of the two,

and only two, rehearsals for the concert, according to Alice Elgar’s diary.40 And, while it infuriated Alice Elgar who wanted the composer to withdraw the Concerto from the

program, he however chose to go ahead with the performance for Felix Salmond’s sake.41

Elgar and Harrison’s Collaboration

In spite of the disappointing first public performance by Salmond and the London Symphony Orchestra, the (‘His Master’s Voice’) engaged Elgar to conduct a recording of the Cello Concerto (a cut version) with Beatrice Harrison who

38 Robert Anderson, Elgar. (London: J. M. Dent, 1993), 139. 39 Robert Anderson, Elgar in Manuscript (London: The British Library, 1990), 123. 40 The number of rehearsals are specified, with reference to Alice Elgar’s diary in Robert Anderson, Elgar. (London: J. M. Dent, 1993), 141. 41 Jerrold N. Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 327. 21 was one of their recording artists42 as well as a celebrated soloist.43 The Gramophone

Company also asked Elgar to “coach Miss Harrison in the work before the recording.”44 Alice Elgar mentioned these coachings and the day of the recording in her diary:

11 December,… Nice to hear the Cello Concerto – Miss Harrison came to play through Cello Concerto with E. for Gramophone… 19 December, Beatrice Harrison (& her family) to play through Concerto… 22 December, E. left before 9 for Hayes, the only time A. did not go with him. Conducted Cello Concerto into gramophone – Beatrice Harrison cellist. E. home about 3 – quite a nice day – Mr. Gaisberg [a recording expert who worked with Elgar during his twenty year recording career] drove back in car with him.45

Another short recording session for the Concerto occurred the following year since, after listening to the proofs of the 22 December recording session, the third movement was considered a failure, although it is not clear if the reason was musical or technological. Two takes were recorded of each movement, and only the fourth movement had two successful takes.46 In many cases – even during the 1928 recording of the Concerto – a “failure” often implied that the master recording was failed by the

factory during processing.47 Harrison rehearsed the third movement with Elgar on 28 January 1920 as is mentioned in Elgar’s diary, a quote that is more appropriate to include in the external view because of its context, “28 January. Miss B. Harrison (And Mrs) 11.30 to try Adagio for Gramophone (Concerto)—the record made before being a failure.

Muriel [Foster] (driving) came in & listened.”48

42 Salmond was not one of the Gramophone Company’s recording artists at the time, according to Robert Anderson, Elgar. (London: J. M. Dent, 1993), 142. 43 Jerrold N. Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 330. 44 Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar on Record: The composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 30. 45 Ibid, 31. 46 Ibid, 31, 32. 47 Ibid, 82, 83. 48 Edward Elgar, Diary, 28 January 1920, in Moore, Elgar on Record, 32. 22 Writing about the occasion, Harrison recalled Alice Elgar saying to her mother

Mrs. Harrison, after rehearsal, “I think your child49 will make people love this work when she has had an opportunity of playing it in public.”50 On 7 April Alice Elgar died from health complications. And, while the composer was devastated, he managed to record the

third movement with Harrison on 16 November 1920, completing the work.51

For the rest of Elgar’s life, whenever he was asked to conduct the Concerto, he

always chose Harrison to play it.52 She played it with him several times, including at

Queen’s Hall in London, at the “Festival” in Malvern,53 at a Philharmonic Society

concert54 and elsewhere. In 1924 at the “” in Hereford, it was planned for Harrison to perform the Concerto, and as she recalls:

I was the first woman instrumentalist to play there [in the cathedral], and I believe that Sir Edward had some difficulty in persuading some of the dignitaries that all would be well, as some of them seemed uncertain.55

And just before a concert in Manchester, Elgar told Harrison, “Give it ’em,

Beatrice, give it ’em. Don’t mind about the notes or anything. Give ’em the spirit.”56

49 Beatrice Harrison was 27 years old. 50 Beatrice Harrison, The Cello and the Nightingales: The Autobiography of Beatrice Harrison, ed. Patricia Cleveland-Peck (London: J. Murray, 1985). 51 Moore, Elgar on Record, 33, 34. 52 Jerrold N. Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 331. 53 , “A Pioneering Spirit of her Age,” The Strad 103, no. 1232 (December 1992), 1172. 54 Moore, Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime, 392. 55 Harrison, The Cello and the Nightingales, 133. 56 Harrison’s autobiography quoted in Michael Kennedy, “Some Elgar Interpreters,” ed. Raymond Monk, Elgar Studies (Brookfield VT: Scolar Press, Gower Publishing Company, 1990), 228. 23 Harrison’s Print Copies of the First Edition Solo Part

Two of Harrison’s first edition scores of the solo cello part57 are kept in London at the Royal College of Music Library in the Harrison Sisters Trust Loan. They can only

be seen or copied with permission from Harrison family. One of the scores is an earlier58 incomplete copy with only six of the fourteen total pages (1,2,7,8,13,14), two of which are severely torn (13,14). The other score is complete and may have been partially marked by Harrison before the 1919 recording. Most of the markings closely correspond with the 1928 recorded performance.

The incomplete score shows evidence of being an earlier copy when compared with the two recorded performances by Harrison, conducted by Elgar, in 1919 and 1928. Firstly, the incomplete score has several logistical markings consistent with initial learning. In Mov. I m.1-2 there are the markings ½ bow, whole, ¾, and all fingers down. In Mov. IV m.232 has the marking whole bow. Secondly, the bowings in Mov. I m.6-8 in the incomplete score are very different than those in both recordings, while the bowings in the same measures of the complete score closely match those in both recordings. This suggests that the complete score may have been in use as early as the 1919 recording. And finally, in Mov. IV m.317-320 there are no fingerings in the incomplete score and no portamento (i.e. audible sliding between notes) in the 1919 recording, while in those same measures the complete score has fingerings that facilitate portamento, and the 1928 recording has seven clear cases of portamento. For this reason, it seems that the incomplete score contains earlier markings than the complete score.

57 (London: Novello, 1919) catalog no. 14633. 58 According to the Baerenreiter Urtext Critical Commentary of “Concerto in E minor for Violoncello and Orchestra, op.85” by Edward Elgar (Kassel Germany: Baerenreiter – Verlag, 2005), 28. 24 THE HARRISON-ELGAR RECORDINGS: THE INTERNAL VIEW

Portamento: Audible Sliding Between Notes

The Harrison-Elgar recorded performances of 1919 and 1928 have an audible quality of otherness compared to modern interpretations. The melodies are performed in a profoundly and consistently different manner than all recorded interpretations of the Concerto after 1930. Frequent portamento (i.e. audible sliding between notes), analogous to a glissando, can be heard from both Beatrice Harrison and the entire of the orchestra. Today string performers will indulge in a very occasional portamento now and then, but frequent use is considered imprecise and of bad taste.

Portamento can span all or part of the interval between two notes. Portamento spanning all of the interval can be performed simply with a same-finger shift, or by carefully trading off the old playing finger with the new playing finger. Portamento spanning only part of the interval occurs when the playing finger changes in the middle of the shift. One way to do this is for the old finger to audibly slide from the old note to a point in the middle of the shift where the new finger is positioned over the new note. The other way to do this is for the new finger to take over from the old finger, at a point in between the interval, before the shift begins so that the new finger audibly slides into the new note. Both Harrison and the string section of the orchestra used these three types of portamento slides in frequent combination; sometimes during slurred bows, or before or after bow changes, as well as before or after the general beats. There is a wide range of possible expressive combinations.

25 While Harrison uses the effect of portamento in several notable expressive ways, a verbal analysis attempting to describe every application of it in the Concerto would be unsatisfying. There are several reasons why. There are difficulties with precisely describing the degree of dynamic intensity of each slide as well as the proportion of the slide within the interval; so much so that it could be more clearly grasped by listening to the audio recordings themselves. Also, unlike in the analysis of tempo, phrasing, and nuance in the following sections, there are fewer comparisons to make with other recorded interpreters since their consistent lack of portamento can be generalized, and there are fewer comparisons to make with Harrison’s marked copy of the solo cello score. There are only ten pencil markings in Harrison’s score that look like possible portamento indications, with straight lines between two notes. Their locations in the score are listed in the following table in terms of movement number (I, III, IV), measure number (m.1), and note number (n.1), along columns indicating whether they were matched with corresponding portamento slides in both 1919 and 1928 Harrison-Elgar recordings. It turns out that they match with the recording exactly half of the time:

Table 1, Harrison’s portamento markings and result in the recordings

location 1919 result 1928 result Mov. I, m.80, n.4-5 no no Mov. III, m.2, n.1-2 yes yes Mov. III, m.11, n.2-3 yes yes Mov. III, m.12, n.2-3 (?) yes no Mov. IV, m.293, n.3-4 yes yes Mov. IV, m.306, n.4-next n.1 yes no Mov. IV, m.307, n.2-3 yes no Mov. IV, m.316, n.3-4 (?) no no Mov. IV, m.317, n.3-4 (?) no yes Mov. IV, m.318, n.3-4 (?) no no

26 These possible portamento markings in Harrison’s score are not strongly correlated with her two performances since she uses the effect so frequently in other unmarked sections of the Concerto with a moderate or slow tempo.

Generally during the 1919 and 1928 recorded performances, Harrison freely and frequently uses all three types of portamento while both ascending and descending in stepwise and leaping motions. Other later interpreters of the Cello Concerto very occasionally use portamento, and when they do, they almost never slide during a descending leap.

General Tempos

Among the many available recorded performances of the Cello Concerto there are a variety of different tempos resulting in different playing times. It is important to note that there are exceptionally short playing times in Beatrice Harrison’s 1919 recording of the Concerto conducted by Elgar because several cuts (i.e. omissions) were made to significant sections of the work in order to keep the total playing time under a

commercially viable maximum of sixteen minutes.59 Of the many different uncut recorded performances of the Concerto, the total playing times range from Beatrice Harrison’s recording in 1928 under twenty-five minutes to Jacqueline du Pré’s thirty-one minute live recording with and the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1970. In fact, Beatrice Harrison’s 1928 recording, which is the only uncut recording of the Concerto conducted by Elgar, has the shortest total playing time of all major recordings

59 The cuts are listed in tables 3 -7. 27 of the Concerto, as is seen in table 1.60 There is enough evidence to assume that the tempos of some of the movements of Harrison’s 1919 and 1928 recordings, both of them conducted by Elgar, are strongly correlated with the composer’s intended tempos. Specifically, the following evidence shows that the tempos in Mov. III of the 1919 recording and Mov. I, II, and III of the 1928 recording are strongly correlated with Elgar’s intended tempos.

Before the dawn of long playing (LP) records in the 1950s, all records turned at seventy-eight rotations per minute (78 r.p.m). The maximum playing time of a 78 r.p.m. record side increased over the first half of the century as the technology improved, increasing from four minutes (4:00) to nearly five minutes (i.e. circa 4:45). In 1919, Harrison’s recorded performance of the Concerto, conducted by Elgar, was made with technology allowing four minutes (4:00) of playing time. Movements I, II, and IV had significant cuts, in other words, omissions, to fit each of them on one side of a record

since Elgar was contracted to arrange an abbreviated four-side version of the Concerto.61 For this recording, he made the necessary omissions to find a compromise between the need to include as much of the Concerto as possible and the need to perform at a tempo that is somewhat correlated with his intended tempos for the work.

60 Minutes are represented on the left side of the colon and seconds on the right side of the colon. 61 The contract is quoted in: Jerrold Northrop Moore, Elgar on Record: The composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 54.

28 Table 2, Movement timings in minutes and seconds

Soloist Year I II III IV Total Time 78 r.p.m.(4:00max) Beatrice Harrison 1919 4:00 3:50 3:52 3:59 15:45 78 r.p.m.(c.4:45max) Beatrice Harrison 1928 6:55 4:25 3:55 9:10 24:35 William H. Squire 1930 27:15 1945 7:41 4:36 4:02 10:55 27:42 LP records Paul Tortellier 1953 29:08 André Navarra 1957 26:03 Jacqueline du Pré 1965 7:57 4:25 5:10 12:11 29:43 Jacqueline du Pré 1970 8:41 4:28 5:50 12:02 31:01 1967 7:13 4:07 4:07 10:20 25:47 Julian L. Webber 1985 29:15 Yo Yo Ma 1985 (I & II: 12:19) 4:55 11:37 29:03 Steven Isserlis 1988 8:12 4:32 4:41 11:25 28:50 Shauna Rolston 1995 8:43 4:28 4:32 11:20 29:03 Pieter Wispelwey 1998 7:39 4:27 4:26 11:03 27:35 The timings of the mostly abbreviated movements in Harrison’s 1919 recording (4:00, 3:50, 3:52, 3:59) are all within ten seconds of the four minute per side limit. Elgar must have been carefully watching the clock to prevent running over the maximum time. He had no choice but to perform at the tempos that he did, apart from cutting out more music, so it is unclear if he would have chosen to perform at slower tempos.

By contrast, it is more than clear during most of Harrison and Elgar’s recorded performance of the Concerto in 1928 whether Elgar would have chosen to perform at slower tempos. This 1928 recording is unabbreviated, and there is plenty of unused space at the ends of Mov. I, II, and III, suggesting that although Elgar could have chosen to perform them at slower tempos had he wanted to, he didn’t, but instead chose those particular tempos heard in the first three movements of the recording.

By 1928, recording technology had progressed enough to allow a maximum of approximately four and three-quarter minutes (circa 4:45) of playing time per record side,

29 about forty-five seconds longer than in 1919. Harrison’s 1928 performance was recorded

on to six record sides: two sides for Mov. I (3:39 and 3:16),62 one side each for Mov. II

(4:25) and III (3:55), and two sides for Mov. IV. (4:35 and 4:39).63 The two sides of Mov. 1 have plenty of unused space with nearly one minute and one and a half minutes left. The timing of Mov. II (4:25) at first seems too close to the maximum for comfort with only twenty seconds of unused space. Yet Elgar, after having watched the clock during nine years of occasional Cello Concerto rehearsals, was most likely not worried about running over this time.

It is surprising that the timing of Harrison’s 1919 version of Mov. III (3:52) so closely matches that of the 1928 Mov. III (3:55), although only the latter has about 45 seconds of unused space on it. Elgar could have used this extra space on the 1928 record, but did not. This would suggest that the tempos in both the 1919 and 1928 Mov. III strongly correlate with the composer’s preferred tempos. And, the timings of the two sides of Mov. IV are both within approximately ten seconds of the maximum available, suggesting Elgar may have this time been carefully watching the clock to prevent running over. He may have even performed the tempos of the movement faster than his preferred tempos to “fit” the movement on to two sides. It can be assumed from the above evidence that the tempos in Mov. III of the 1919 recording and Mov. I, II, and III of the 1928 recording are strongly correlated with Elgar’s intended tempos.

62 Side one ends at no. 8 according to Jerrold Northrop Moore, Elgar on Record: The composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 82. 63 The first of the two sides ends at no. 62 according to: Moore, Elgar on Record, 82. 30 Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the Harrison – Elgar Recordings and Harrison’s Markings

The following analysis of the Harrison – Elgar recordings in terms of tempo, phrasing, and nuance reveals many striking connections when one compares them to Harrison’s markings in her solo cello part. This analysis will focus primarily on the Harrison – Elgar recording in 1928. The tempos in the Harrison – Elgar recording in 1919, except in Mov. III, are suspected of being rushed to fit the already abbreviated Concerto onto four 78 r.p.m. record sides with only sixteen minutes of playing time possible.64 The analysis of Mov. III will focus on both Harrison – Elgar recordings.

Harrison’s markings are part of the “external view” of the Concerto since the question of whether they came from Elgar’s communication or Harrison’s personal opinion is a speculative matter. But, knowing full well of the speculative and secondary nature of Harrison’s markings, it is worth while to note the consistencies and inconsistencies between Harrison’s markings and the tempos and phrasing of the two Harrison-Elgar recorded performances.

64 This is discussed in the section on page entitled “General Tempos”. 31 Movement I: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1928 Recording and Harrison’s Markings65 66

Figure 1, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. I, m.1-18

The published metronome marking that opens Mov. I (m.1-8) is = 56, while the

1928 Harrison-Elgar recorded performance starts at a tempo of = 46 and settles into = 40 by m.3. In m.1-5, the recorded performance has remarkably steady phrasing for a

65 References to Harrison’s markings are from her complete solo score of the 1919 first edition since this copy has markings which closely correspond to both recordings. This is discussed in the section entitled “Harrison’s Print Copies of the First Edition Solo Part”. 66 All markings that are written in pencil in Harrison’s copy of the first edition will be described as “marked.” Any pre-existing notation, both symbolic and verbal, in the first edition (London: Novello, 1919, catalog no.14633) will be described as “printed.” All words or symbols either marked or printed in Harrison’s solo score are quoted in italics. All foreign words used in the analysis which are not intended as quotations will not be italicized. 32 section that could be considered a quasi Recit. as it is printed by Elgar during its restatement at the end of the Concerto. The soloist’s melody is ff and declamatory, while the orchestra sparsely places staccato chords that mimic a recitative accompaniment. But instead of printing quasi Recit. as he does in the restatement, Elgar prints nobilmente below m.1. Harrison has several markings here that complement the steady phrasing of the recorded performance including don’t hurry below m.1, equal above the eighth notes in m.2 which are played evenly in both recordings, too short below the third eighth note circled in m.2, not too quick above m.2-3, and no hurry below m.4.

This steadiness, expressed in m.1-5 of the recorded performance and in Harrison’s markings, is a surprising contrast from Elgar’s stated general preference for music

performed “elastically” as opposed to “squarely.”67 Not only do Harrison and Elgar perform these measures in a steady manner, but Harrison sustains most notes after the initial chords, allowing very little opportunity for rhythmic or dynamic nuance of individual notes. Other recorded interpreters such as Pablo Casals and Jacqueline du Pré include more rhythmic and dynamic nuance and inflection in their recorded performances of these measures as in a typical recitative. However, Harrison’s sustained approach is consistent with Elgar’s nobilmente in m.1, and with her marking above m.3-4, which reads tone full. In the 1928 recorded performance, the only major nuance that Harrison

brings to these measures is the quickly and loudly snapped grace note in m.4.

In m.7-8 of the recorded performance, Harrison begins at a tempo of ⋅ = 54 and plays the rhythm of this printed ad lib. section in a reserved and careful manner, clearly executing the two printed agogic accents. Harrison’s markings match this with dreamy

67 Edward Elgar, Letter, 1 July 1903, in Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar and His Publishers: Letters of a Creative Life, vol. 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987) 454-455. 33 above m.6, keep up time below m.6, and but don’t hurry below m.7, possibly written later. Other recorded interpreters typically take more liberty with the tempo and rhythm in these measures.

At the Moderato in m.9 the first thematic area is introduced by the orchestra.

Here there is another published metronome marking: ⋅ = 66, but the orchestra in the 1928 recorded performance begins at the tempo of ⋅ = 56. In m.15 Harrison plays the melody of the thematic material at ⋅ = 60 and, from this point on, the tempo ranges from 58-63.

This is consistently slower than the published metronome marking of ⋅ = 66, yet both the published marking and the tempo range of the 1928 recording are faster than the tempos

of all later major recordings of the Concerto which range from ⋅ = 50-60 during the Mov. I Moderato.

Although the Concerto is primarily in E minor, the solo melody which begins in m.15 begins on an F#. The thematic material in m.15-18, centers around an E pedal note with chords alternating between an F# half-diminished chord and an E minor chord. While the key of the first thematic area is clearly defined, this common-tone half- diminished chord is frequently embedded into the material, enhancing the tension between E and F#.

The sustained and steady phrases of the first thematic area in the 1928 recorded performance is matched by Harrison’s markings in m.15-17 sing & serene above and soft & sweet & sonore below. In m.15, the phrasing of the solo melody in the recorded performance and the character of Harrison’s markings seem to match the first theme area’s unresolved and melancholy harmonic tension. Other recorded interpreters, by

34 comparison, inflect and shape this phrase in much greater detail than Harrison does. Even her vibrato is very reserved and narrow in the 1928 recorded performance compared to most other interpreters who use a wider, more expressive, and more inflected type of vibrato.

The first thematic area continues to m.46 with only subtle changes in tempo –

reaching ⋅ = 63 in m.33 – and with no other markings in Harrison’s copy besides bowings and fingerings. In the 1928 recorded performance Harrison continues the same sustained and steady character, clearly observing all printed tenutos, sforzandos, accents, and agogic accents. Harrison’s sustaining quality also results in an unusual interpretation of the single sixteenth note in both m.24 and 26. Instead of rhythmically snapping them, as one might expect, she starts them early as if, to play them as eighth notes instead, to imply minuscule retards, or to artificially create a sense of rhythmic placement on the following down beats. Whatever the intention, the effect is that of a continuing sustaining quality, consistent with the rest of the first thematic area. Later in m.32, she performs the ascending scale with increasingly forceful articulation, especially during the last six notes which are printed with tenuto lines. Then in m.39, as the soloist’s melody from m.15 returns, Harrison again performs with the same reserved and narrow vibrato as before.

A transitional area between the two thematic areas begins with the orchestra in m.47, and the soloist in m.48, who has espress. printed in the score. This section includes many more printed indications of tempo flexibility, dynamic nuance, and lyricism than the first thematic area. While it starts in E minor, it progresses to E major by m.55, the beginning of the second thematic area. There is no different printed tempo for the

35 transitional area or the second thematic area, yet in the 1928 recorded performance Elgar

begins m.47 at ⋅ = 52. It is the slowest point of the performance of the Mov. I Moderato, which fluctuates between ⋅ = 54-63.

One interesting quality in the 1928 recorded performance of this transitional area and the following second thematic area is the soloist’s and orchestra’s execution of the occasional dotted rhythm which characterizes this thematic area. The musicians often slightly over-dot these rhythms in a swinging manner that includes a generally buoyant dynamic inflection. Later recorded interpreters and their orchestras avoid regular over- dotting, even a subtle amount, and often generally sustain the notes of the rhythm more than in the 1928 recorded performance. The question must be raised whether this is a different intended style or rather a different standard of accuracy and ensemble, since the result of the over dotting is a slightly looser ensemble. The external view that follows will discuss the evidence that suggests that both a different style and standard are part of the complex answer.

This slow beginning tempo in m.47 is complemented by Harrison’s marking of careful above m.48, suggesting a continuation of the reserved character of the first thematic area. In the recorded performance the wind section plays m.47 with a slightly

over-dotted execution of the rhythm and with dynamic buoyancy. Then Harrison plays m.48, without any rubato although it is printed espress. She maintains the plodding tempo of the lower strings in character with her marking, only making her dynamics and vibrato expressive. But, soon in the recorded performance Harrison gradually changes her character.

36 In m.51, the soloist plays the occasional dotted-rhythm characteristic of this transitional area and the second thematic area, while reaching the highest note yet in solo part. Here in the recorded performance, Harrison continues to widen her vibrato and dynamic inflection as the printed hairpins indicate. Here also, her score is marked with espre, consistent with her recorded performance. Meanwhile, she maintains the same inflexible tempo in line with the lower strings’ continued steady plodding.

In the recorded performance at the end of the phrase in m.54, Harrison and the orchestra both slow down significantly, including the plodding, before reaching the down beat. The score prints no indication of this, but Harrison’s copy includes a rit. marking below m.54, as well as a piu p marking above the last two notes of m.53 and the first note of m.54, suggesting a quieter dynamic that is clearly executed in the recorded performance. Other interpreters naturally slow down here as well, if only for the last note of the measure.

The second thematic area is introduced at the down beat of m.55, arriving in the key of E major. The solo melody here is printed dolcissimo, and there is a motivic rearrangement of the dotted-rhythm. In the recorded performance, the tempo changes

instantly from the previous tempo of ⋅ = 52 to ⋅ = 60 in m. 55. The tempo in this section stays between ⋅ = 60-58 until m.71. Also in m.55 Harrison increases her dynamic inflection during frequent exchanges with the orchestra. And, as the dynamic and melodic intensity builds, Harrison takes more rhythmic liberty with new subtle nuances within each dotted quarter note, while maintaining the steadiness of each dotted quarter note. Other interpreters often take more freedom with the tempo here, as with the

37 previous section. Harrison, however, allows her nuance and inflection to very gradually emerge over the course of the entire Moderato played so far.

In m.63, the score has a printed indication of poco string., finally a clear indication of tempo flexibility, and the dynamic has increased to f while the soloist begins one of four short and occasional sixteenth note runs. Two measures later, the soloist reaches the highest note of the movement. In m.63 of the recorded performance,

the tempo doesn’t necessarily speed up, but rather it begins fluctuating between ⋅ = 58-

63, reaching ⋅ = 63 in m.71 as the melody progresses through distant intervals.

Also, in the recorded performance of m.63, Harrison begins the first notes of the measure without any stringendo as it is printed in the score, and even expressively stretches the length of the first sixteenth note of the run. However, she very quickly makes up for the lost time, and rushes through the remaining five sixteenths to regain the tempo by the next down beat; a true example of rubato. And, above the run, Harrison’s copy is marked not too much, possibly either a reference to the printed poco string. or to the rubato of her sixteenth note run. The next sixteenth note run in m.64 is performed with much less rubato, sounding nearly rhythmically even, but with a slight retard. This contrast with the performance of the first run may be an attempt to speed up the first and expressively slow down the second, or it may simply be a result of the second run’s difficulty, requiring three distant shifts up the “A” string as Harrison’s marked fingering indicates.

In m.65 rit. is printed over the third dotted quarter beat, followed by a tempo at the beginning of m.67. It is at this point in the recorded performance that the tempo slows

38 momentarily below ⋅ = 40, before returning to ⋅ = 58 in m.67. Most other recorded interpreters do just as much of a rit. In Harrison’s copy there are also several markings that complement her recording. In m.65, an extra rit. is marked directly below the existing one, an exp is marked above the second half of the measure, and piu p is marked above m.66, a measure before the printed a tempo.

Measure 67 begins with a printed a tempo and dolce. Harrison’s recorded performance begins at a tempo of ⋅ = 58, and remains steady until the beginning of m.69, when the tempo quickly jumps to nearly ⋅ = 63. Few other recorded interpreters sharply change the tempo as much at the turn of a new phrase.

In m.71, when the melody is nearly at its most disjunct, Harrison’s performance

reaches the recorded movement’s fastest tempo of ⋅ = 63. Compared with other major recorded interpretations (unabbreviated), the 1928 Harrison-Elgar recorded performance of the first movement has the shortest playing time, and the fastest tempos of them all. Steven Isserlis and Pieter Wispelwey nearly approach this tempo, but not quite. And it is important to remember that the 1928 recording had plenty of unused space left on both record sides of the first movement; about one minute on the first side and a minute and a half on the second. Elgar performed these tempos knowing full well that he would have plenty of extra time if he wanted it.

At the end of m.71 and in m.72, the soloist again plays two sets of short sixteenth note runs. In the 1928 recorded performance, Harrison performs the runs with even clearer rubato than before. The first note of the first run is slow and the rest of the notes of the run speed up to regain the tempo, while the second run avoids an emphasis on the

39 first note, but instead begins faster and then slows down through to the end of the run. Most other recorded interpreters do the same, although it is often unclear if the reason is stylistic or logistical since the second run is technically difficult to play with rubato that speeds up at the end.

In m.73 there is another printed rit. similar to m.65 except this time the measure includes a printed largamente and two ten. (tenuto) markings. The recorded performance of m.73, however, has the same degree of rit. as in m.65; no more or less. In Harrison’s copy the printed rit. is circled, and in m.74, the last measure of the phrase, sing is marked above. True to the marking, Harrison does perform with a vocal-like expression that is more variable and flexible, compared to the beginning of the movement. Here also the dotted-rhythm in the solo is performed in the recording with a highly over dotted snap, made even more noticeable by the rit. already in progress.

Measure 75 is the beginning of another transitional area very similar to that of m.47-54. This time the transitional area ushers in a return to the first thematic area which

ends the first movement, except this time the tempo of the recorded performance is ⋅ = 58 instead of ⋅ = 52 as in the previous transitional area. The recorded performance of m.75 also has the same buoyant and slightly over-dotted passage in the wind section as in

m.49, and in m.76-77 the same steady plodding lower strings accompany Harrison in the same solo passage as in m.50-51.

In m.78 the melody, repeated from the previous transitional area, takes a different turn. Instead of continuing on as before, the soloist sharply crescendos to a ff on the second dotted quarter beat with a fermata; this happens just after a pp in the previous

40 measure. There is also a printed largamente, suggesting a dramatic approach to the second beat. While in the recorded performance Harrison slows significantly in this measure, she also quickly returns to the previous tempo immediately after the fermata. This is complemented by the markings in Harrison’s copy. Although the score has a tempo printed beginning at two notes after the fermata, Harrison marked tempo twice, once above and once below the first note after the fermata, circling the note. Most other recorded interpreters get a slower start after the fermata than Harrison does.

Measure 80 is the return of the first thematic area with the same melody in the solo part that begins in m.15. In the recorded performance Harrison begins this returning melody with the same reserved and narrow vibrato as the first time. But, by m.88 there is the single dotted rhythm of this whole first thematic area, which is left over from the second thematic area, and it seems to unleash Harrison’s wide vibrato, dynamic inflection, and tempo flexibility. Whereas before, this expressiveness emerges extremely slowly over the course of fifty-four measures from the beginning of the Moderato in m.9, but this time, beginning in m.88, Harrison’s transition from reserve to full expression only takes about two measures. For Harrison, the profound effect of this drastic two measure change depends on its contrast with the reserved and sustained musical style of m.9-63 with its painfully gradual change in style. No other major recorded interpreters of

the Concerto are able to produce this same effect, due to the fact that in the first thematic area they all have vibrato that is wider than Harrison’s, a greater variety of rubato than Harrison, and more dynamic inflection than Harrison. This profound contrast in m.88-89 also occurs without any other printed indications but espress. and cresc.

41 In m.90 a largamente and ten. are printed. Both are further indications of greater expressiveness in this return of the first thematic area compared with its first appearance at the beginning of the Moderato. Harrison’s copy also has the marking not too rall above, suggesting that the printed largamente is to be played moderately. The following measure, with its E minor scale has (in tempo) printed above, suggesting there will be no poco allargando as there was in the E minor scale in m.32. In the recorded performance, Harrison interprets these printed and marked indications rather literally. In m.90 she plays a very subtle largamente while maintaining a fast tempo, and then in m.91 she instantly plays at a slightly faster tempo as she quickly but evenly ascends the E minor scale with great momentum. No other major recorded interpreter plays these two measures quite this fast. By m.92 Harrison’s tempo is ⋅ = 63 while most other major interpreters perform at tempo in the mid ⋅ = 50s. The two fastest interpreters are Steven Isserlis and Pieter Wispelwey, both with tempos of 58.

In m.95, among a series of agogic accent notes, Harrison instantly reduces the tempo from the previous ⋅ = 63 to ⋅ = 56. This drastic change in tempo is unmatched by other recorded interpretations in which all reduce their tempo, but only by two or four and not seven as in the Elgar-Harrison recording. Then in m.96 Harrison marks in her part too long, circling these words and including the “E”, the highest note of the measure.

In the recorded performance, Harrison plays these notes in m.95-96 with wide expressive vibrato and a nearly accented quality so that each note is clearly articulated before it is sustained.

Then in m.98, of the recorded performance, after ten measures of openly expressive playing with flexible tempos, dynamic inflection, and wide vibrato, Harrison

42 returns to her previous reserved style as the main melody of the first thematic area returns

to conclude the movement. At this point, the tempo of ⋅ = 58 closely matches the first performance of the melody at ⋅ = 60. Here, she plays with the same qualities as her performance at the beginning of the Moderato, including highly sustained notes, narrow vibrato, and a lack of nuance or dynamic inflection.

The Harrison – Elgar recorded performance of the first movement, reveals a vivid contrast in style beyond the score between the beginning of the first thematic area in m.9 and the middle of the second thematic area which begins in m.55. At first, Harrison holds back and reserves her expressiveness. But then over the course of the first fifty- four measures of the Moderato, she very carefully and gradually opens up the range of her expression, with increasingly greater vibrato width, dynamic inflection, and tempo flexibility. Later she returns to a reserved expression in both the second transitional area in m.75 and in the return of the first thematic area which this time includes occasionally expressive episodes reminiscent of the unrestrained expressive range of her performance in the second thematic area.

43

Movement II: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1928 Recording and Harrison’s Markings68 69

At the beginning of Mov. II, RECIT. and Lento are printed in m.1, and an accel. is printed in m.2. In the 1928 Harrison – Elgar recorded performance, the soloist’s pizzicato chords are clearly rolled from bottom to top, so that the top note of each chord is placed on the beat. The soloist’s dynamics, printed p and f in m.1, ff and sf in m.2, are overpowered by the orchestra’s crescendo. However, Harrison manages to create contrast by increasing the speed at which she rolls each chord. Each time she is more forceful. In m.2 of the recorded performance, the accel. and the cresc. of the orchestra are performed with what seems like an initial delay, but by the end of the second beat, the accel. and cresc. increase so rapidly that there is a sense that an entire quarter beat was skipped. The orchestra’s thirty-second notes during the third quarter beat are played at almost double the tempo so that they are faster than can be clearly heard.

It is obvious that the orchestra was not able to coordinate the accel. and clearly match their bow strokes and articulations. Again, there is the question of style and standard. Did Elgar approve of this as a stylistic effect, or would he have preferred a more coordinated orchestra if it was available? Had he known what the orchestra would sound like in m.2, would he have gone so fast? Or would he have played it slower like

68 References to Harrison’s markings are from her complete solo score of the 1919 first edition since this copy has markings which closely correspond to both recordings. This is discussed in the section entitled “Harrison’s Print Copies of the First Edition Solo Part”. 69 All markings that are written in pencil in Harrison’s copy of the first edition will be described as “marked.” Any pre-existing notation, both symbolic and verbal, in the first edition (London: Novello, 1919, catalog no.14633) will be described as “printed.” All words or symbols either marked or printed in Harrison’s solo score are quoted in italics. All foreign words used in the analysis which are not intended as quotations will not be italicized. 44 other recorded orchestras do? This subject is speculative and will be discussed in the following chapter.

All other major recorded interpretations of the accel. in m.2 are slower than the Harrison-Elgar recording. And the various musicians play it with greater ensemble coordination and clarity, resulting in a variety of effects. Some of the orchestras have a relatively slower staccato sound that is analogous to quickly tip-toeing. Other orchestras produce a relatively faster and louder flourish with an explosive sf. The Harrison-Elgar recorded performance is very much like the latter.

The soloist’s sixteenth note figure in m.3 foreshadow the fast second part of the movement, occurring four more times during the RECIT section before the steady fast tempo begins in m.16. This sixteenth-note figure has four unequal sets of repeated notes in a pattern of five, four, four, and three. The pattern of these sets become a source of thematic material used in the latter half of the movement. Although the first four sixteenths are printed with staccatos, Harrison’s recorded performance reveals a more detaché bow stroke absent of any sharp articulation. In character with the RECIT, she performs the sixteenth notes by rushing the second quarter of the measure and slowing the fourth quarter, matching the inflection of the two printed crescendo and decrescendo hairpins. This is a stark contrast from her character during the final eight measures of Mov. I. Other recorded interpreters of this measure generally match Harrison’s inflection, but in some cases they are faster and more reserved than Harrison.

45

Figure 2, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.4-6

In m.4 and m.6 the soloist alternates between a measure of rolled chords, a measure of sixteenths, and another measure of chords. Below these measures, Harrison has four hairpins marked in her copy. The first is a decrescendo hairpin in m.4 below the only two rolled pizzicato chords of the measure on the second and third quarter beats. The second is a crescendo hairpin in m.5 generally below the first half of the of sixteenth notes. The third is a decrescendo hairpin in m.5 generally below the second half of the sixteenth notes. The exact intended placement of the hairpins is unclear, and could be interpreted as either intended for the first and second half of the measure or for only the second and fourth quarter beats of the measure. The fourth is a crescendo hairpin in m.6, again below the only two rolled pizzicato chords of the measure on the second and third quarter beats. Such a contrast between the decrescendo of the two chords in m.4 and the crescendo of those in m.6 is not suggested by Elgar’s notation in other occurrences of the two chord figure. Elgar does print a dim. below those of m.8, but without any contrasting dynamic indication elsewhere. Harrison performs these rolled chord figures consistently with her marked hairpins. She clearly plays the m.6 crescendo hairpin, and resists the temptation to ritard this time, as she does in m.4. Other recorded interpreters often play the rolled chord figure with a decrescendo and ritard every time.

46 In m.5 Harrison plays the sixteenth notes in the same manner as in m.3, but she actually skips one of the sixteenth notes during the first quarter beat of the measure. It is not the usual error that easily strikes the listener. The printed repeated note pattern already creates a sense of being slightly off beat, and Harrison plays the first few sixteenth notes of the measure so fast that it is difficult for the listener to notice every detail. These sixteenth notes are unaccompanied, apart from a tied eighth note release from the previous measure, so there is no ensemble awkwardness between Harrison and the orchestra. There is no evidence that Elgar acknowledged this skipped note or not and there is no reference to this marked in Harrison’s part.

In m.7 the sixteenth-note figure ends with printed tenuto lines above four of the notes. While the other recorded soloists, as do most cellists today, interpreted tenuto lines as either a portato bow stroke or a sustained stroke with an audible break between notes, Harrison strongly articulates them in the recorded performance. The bow stroke sounds like a large gesture with a fast initial acceleration of the bow, analogous to a “jabbing” gesture that slows and sustains with wide vibrato.

In m.9 the soloist’s rolled pizzicato chords transform into a sequence of ascending fortissimo chords, starting a tempo and then accelerating to the downbeat of m.11. In the recorded performance, Harrison begins at a tempo of = 160 and accelerates to = 184 by the end of m.10. All later recorded performances of these measures are played with a slower tempo; for example in Jacqueline du Pré’s 1965 recording, she begins m.9 at a tempo of = 144 and increases to 160.

47

Figure 3, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.11-12

In m.11 and 12, the soloist begins an expressive passage printed Lento and ad lib., m.12 contains eight unmeasured and unaccompanied quarter beats composed of eighth notes and quarter notes. After the pizzicato chord on the down beat of m.11, the soloist begins a series of bowed double-stop sixths, the first two sets printed ff and sf being a octave apart. This octave shift has been interpreted in different ways. Some interpreters audibly shift on the up-bow of the first double-stop facilitating an articulation of the second double stop, others, including Jacqueline du Pré, audibly shift on the down bow of the second double-stop, preventing the possibility of an articulation, while others, including Pablo Casals, shift silently between the up and down bows. In the Harrison- Elgar recorded performance, Harrison audibly shifts on the up-bow of the first double- stop before forcefully articulating the second lengthy double-stop which ties over the bar line. This second double-stop has a wide, energetic vibrato during which the orchestra mimics the previous octave expression of the solo cello, articulating the top of the octave just as forcefully as Harrison.

The following eighth notes and quarter notes of this extended ad lib. measure generally progress from ten notes printed accel. to six more notes printed rall., and then eight quarter notes printed piu lento. In the recorded performance, Harrison interprets the eighth notes exceptionally fast compared to other interpreters. At its fastest point,

48 Harrison’s eighth notes accelerate to a speed of = 192; a tempo that prevents her from clearly playing two of the notes, one of them the highest of the passage, both printed ten. and sf. It is interesting to note that in the 1919 recorded performance, Harrison significantly lengthens these two notes in spite of their position in the accel. section of the passage. However, Harrison’s copy of the solo cello part includes the marking quicker above the entire printed accel. section of the passage, suggesting that it was marked sometime between the 1919 and 1928 recorded performances.

In the printed rall. section of the extended ad lib. measure, Harrison, during 1928 recorded performance, interprets these notes in the context of her tempo of = 192 from the previous accel. section and only gradually slows from her previous momentum. As she reaches the first of the quarter-note chords, she drastically slows down, rolling each of them disregarding any printed indication. The second half of these quarter-note chords slows down significantly more, and at the beginning of this second half Harrison’s copy has longer marked above, as well as a circle marked around the chord below.

All other recorded interpreters of this extended ad lib. measure take this passage considerably slower, often dampening the momentum by expressively lengthening the two ten. printed notes. As a result of this absence of momentum, they often transition from the eighth notes to the quarter notes without any audible sense of rhythmic proportion. By contrast, Harrison’s faster interpretation of the printed accel. section allows the following printed rall. and piu lento to create a sense of increasingly broader notes with clearer degrees of difference between each, especially at the points of the printed piu lento and the marked word longer. While Harrison progresses from her

49 maximum tempo of = 192 down to below = 40, Pablo Casals’ tempo reaches a maximum of = 58 before progressing to below = 40.

The following m.13 is a return to the previous sixteenth-note figures, and in the recorded performance Harrison plays it faster that the previous figures, and it is too fast for her to clearly play the four printed staccatos during the first quarter beat. And, m.14 is also another return to the previous figures of pizzicato chords on the second and third quarter beats, except this time instead of just one fermata at the end of the measure, there is also a second fermata at the end of the first quarter beat. In m.14 of the recorded performance Harrison plays the single eighth note at the very beginning of the first beat with wide vibrato and holds it considerably longer than printed, possibly to exchange the note with the horn, which continues her note through the rest of the measure. The rest of the measure is slightly slower than previous performances of the figure. In Harrison’s part a large circle is marked surrounding the fermata at the end of the first beat as well as the pizzicato chords on the second and third quarter beats, suggesting that she acknowledged the figure’s distinction from the previous figures.

In m.15, there is the final occurrence of the sixteenth-note figure before the beginning of a steadily fast tempo in m.16. This time, Harrison plays it slower as the printed piu lento indicates, and with wide, occasionally placed vibrato. Again, the four printed staccatos during the first quarter beat are not played differently from the rest of the sixteenth-notes, nor is the printed accent at the beginning of the third quarter beat played differently in the recorded performance. But, the printed tenuto lines of the last two sixteenths are clearly articulated and sustained with wide vibrato in the same style as the tenuto lines in m.7, with initially accelerated bow strokes analogous to a “jabbing”

50 gesture. Other recorded interpreters play these tenuto lines with a more subtle and less articulate portato or separation between the notes. Harrison’s interpretation is much more aggressive and forceful, while other interpreters are more graceful.

Measure 16 introduces a new character with a steady fast tempo compared to the previous slower and flexible tempo of the RECIT half of the movement. The soloist begins in m.17 with the same sixteenth-note figure which in the following measures generate a variety of thematic material primarily in sixteenth notes. The printed tempo

marking is = 160, and in the Harrison-Elgar recorded performance the orchestra begins m.16 at this same tempo. Throughout the rest of the movement, the tempo fluctuates generally between = 160-176. Other recorded interpreters of this section range in their tempos between = 144 to, at some points, 192. Pablo Casals is the slowest and most flexible interpreter, beginning at = 144 but soon maintaining a general tempo of = 152 near the beginning and = 160 near the end. Jacqueline du Pré, Steven Isserlis, and Pieter Wispelwey are three of the fastest interpreters fluctuating generally between = 168 and = 184. In du Pré’s 1970 recorded performance of a live concert, as well as Pieter Wispelwey’s recorded performance, they increase their tempo in the last ten measures, maintaining a tempo of = 192.

The bow stroke of this primarily sixteenth-note half of the movement is considered by most cellists today as only suitable for a sautillé, off-the-string stroke. The sixteenth notes are printed with staccatos in the first measure, and although there is no simile printed to explicitly suggest a continuation of the staccatos, there is a leggierissimo printed below, implying light and graceful notes. Virtually all major recorded interpreters, except Beatrice Harrison and Pablo Casals, achieve this sautillé, off-the-

51 string bow stroke. Harrison’s bow stroke is almost always on the string, and Casals’ bow stroke is off the string with varied strokes in different measures, but most of the time it has a deliberately brushed sound.

In Harrison’s recorded performance she plays this section with a small degree of flexibility in how she shapes the quarter beats of each sixteenth note measure, without distorting the integrity of the tempo as it flows from measure to measure. Most other recorded interpreters do the same, except for Pablo Casals who is much more elastic than the others. Harrison, however, has more dynamic inflection in her interpretation of the sixteenth notes owing to her on-the-string bow stroke compared to the other interpreter’s saulltié, off-the-string bow stroke. Harrison’s dynamic contrast adds a considerable sense of greater elasticity and flexibility without compromising the integrity of her general tempos. Other recorded interpreters maintain a generally lighter and less inflected sense of dynamics. Jacqueline du Pré’s 1965 recorded performance stays uniformly light and uninflected before m.28. Then her dynamic level gradually increases with a few inflections until the printed cantabile section at m.40.

The small degree of flexible phrasing that Harrison’s recorded performance does have minutely speeds up during the several ascending passages in m.21, 23, 26-29, 31, and 33 – especially in m.29, and 31 printed brillante – before minutely slowing down in the following half note or quarter note measures. The other sixteenth-note measures that are not ascending have a more steady phrasing, except for short four-note arpeggio runs which are slightly sped up.

52 During m.39 where a poco allargando is printed, Harrison interprets the two tenuto-line notes with considerably less forceful articulation than during previous times in the first and second movements. This time the tenuto-line notes are performed with a very broad bow stroke and followed by even broader stroked and slightly more articulated accented notes as she gradually slows down. Harrison’s part has the marking more below, and below that rall by degrees. It seems that the two markings may have been written at different times since one is darker and the other is lighter.

The cantabile sections in m.40-46 and later in m.78-84 have the most notable inconsistency of the whole work – between Elgar’s score and the Harrison-Elgar recorded performances – and are the subject of much discussion among musicians. In the Harrison-Elgar recorded performance there is a general pattern of two measures of the cello solo under tempo, and then generally two measures of the orchestra at tempo, followed by a similar pattern of generally two measures under tempo and two measures at tempo.

Figure 4, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.39-42

53

Figure 5, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.43-48

What is most confusing about the notation in the score is the printed a tempo above the printed cantabile in m.40. This printed a tempo seems to suggest a continuation of the previous fast tempo, and the printed largamente in m.41 also seems to support this theory. The previous printed tempo indication in m.16 is = 160. But, in m.40 the 1919 Harrison-Elgar recorded performance begins the measure at = 92, and the 1928 Harrison-Elgar recorded performance begins the measure at = 63, almost one third the previous tempo and the slowest tempo of all of the recorded interpretations. Of course the tempo of the 1919 recorded performance is suspected of being rushed, since there are less than ten seconds of available space at the end of the 78 r.p.m. record side.

Unfortunately the markings in Harrison’s part in m.41 do not solve this inconsistency between the published score and the recorded performances. There are no

markings in m.40 except for fingerings. In m.41 molto is marked above the printed largamente. Later in the measure the printed a tempo is crossed out and rewritten virtually above it except beginning one note earlier, over the sixteenth note, suggesting that the a tempo starts during the sixteenth note. In both 1919 and 1928 recorded performances Harrison plays this sixteenth note quickly as if to over-dot the figure as the orchestra takes over and the tempo of the third and fourth quarter beats instantly return to = circa 160.

54

Later, in both the 1919 and 1928 recorded performances at the pickup to m.44, the tempo instantly changes again from = circa 160 to = 96 in 1919 and to = 69 in 1928. Then in the middle of m.45 the tempo becomes instantly faster as the orchestra takes over again. While there are no printed tempo indications in the score from m.43-47 before the Tempo Iº printed in m.48, Harrison’s copy has three tempo-related markings, with largamente marked high above the solo part in m.43-45, then molto marked below it, and later slower marked above m.47 where the repeated sixteenth-note pattern returns. During this half of the cantabile section, unlike before, Harrison’s markings accurately match her recorded performances, especially the largamente and molto.

Virtually all other major recorded interpreters play m.40-46, and the later parallel passage in m.78-84 under tempo. Whereas Harrison plays m.40 at a tempo of = 92 in 1919 and = 63 in 1928, Jacqueline du Pré plays the measure at = 92 in 1965 and = 96 in her 1970 live performance, Pieter Wispelwey at = 96, and both Steven Isserlis and Pablo Casals at = 126, although Casals’ orchestra returns to a tempo of = 138 in m.42 instead of approximately = 160 as all the other recorded orchestras do. Harrison’s 1928 tempo of = 63 remains the slowest of them all by far.

In m.47, the sixteenth notes return, but in the 1928 recorded performance neither the four printed tenuto-line notes or the following four staccatos are clearly distinguished in the recording from the later regular sixteenth notes, nor is her marked indication of slower clear due to the overpowering sound of the orchestra. In the following section of sixteenth notes from m.47-77, Harrison returns to her minutely flexible style of phrasing during all ascending passages, especially in m.67, 69, and 71. And again, Harrison’s

55 dynamic contrast adds to the sense of elasticity and flexibility while she maintains the integrity of her general tempo. One example of this is Harrison’s sudden drop in dynamic after a nearly full measure of “B flat” sixteenth notes, when the last two notes drop a fourth. She then regains the dynamic in the following measure of ascending sixteenth notes. In other measures, she creates dynamic contrasts that correspond with the pitches, the higher ones being louder.

Among the several printed dynamics and hairpins in this section (m.47-77), Harrison’s score has added markings. In m.59-60 a crescendo hairpin is marked from the first note to the twelfth note, and later a decrescendo hairpin is marked from the thirteenth note of m.59 through to the end of m.60. In m.61 a p is marked below the first note, a crescendo hairpin is marked from the fifth note to the twelfth note, and a decrescendo hairpin is marked from the thirteenth note of m.61 through to the second quarter beat of m.62. All of these markings are consistent with the recorded performance. At the end of this sixteenth note section, there is another measure printed poco allargando, and Harrison again interprets the two tenuto line notes and two accented notes the same manner that she does in m.39, which are less articulated and less forceful as in m.7.

56 Figure 6, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. II, m.77-87

In m.78-84 there is another cantabile passage, similar to the one in m.40-46, the exact same slow–fast–slow–fast pattern occurs in both 1919 and 1928 Harrison-Elgar recorded performances. This time also, the score has printed indications of cantabile above m.78 and a tempo below. In m.79 there is another larg.[amente] above the first quarter beat and a tempo above the third quarter beat. Later in m.86 there is a printed Tempo Iº similar to the one in m.48 at the end of the previous cantabile section. These printed indications are consistent with those of the previous cantabile section, but again they are inconsistent with the recorded performances. In the 1919 and 1928 recorded performances, the tempo before the m.78 cantabile section is generally the same as the published tempo in m.16, = 160. But, in m.78 the tempo instantly changes to = 96 in 1919 and = 69 in 1928. Then the previous tempo of = 160 returns at the third quarter beat of m.79, and instantly changes in m.82 to = 96 in 1919 and = 72 in 1928. In Harrison’s score, her markings in this section are again only partially consistent with the recorded performances. In the previous cantabile section in m.40-46 the markings in her part were consistent only for the second half of the section, and this time in m.78-84 the markings in her part are consistent with the recorded performances only for the first half of the section. In m.78 of Harrison’s score the printed a tempo has a lightly drawn line through it, suggesting the intention of crossing it out. Later in m.79 the printed a tempo is circled along with the sixteenth note and half note, suggesting that the a tempo should be started during the sixteenth note.

Having looked at this inconsistency in m.40-46 and m.78-84 between the score and the Harrison-Elgar recorded performances, it is impossible to resolve it conclusively. One possible speculation is that Elgar might have intended the cantabile to indicate a 57 different character and tempo during these sections that expires at the Tempo Iº. This is one possible conjecture. Elgar frequently uses indications like largamente and a tempo in many different contexts, yet he rarely uses cantabile and Tempo Iº at all during this Concerto.

In m.85 of the 1928 recorded performance, Harrison begins the final sixteenth- note section of the movement. In the same way as the previous two sixteenth note sections, Harrison uses minutely flexible phrasing as well as dynamic contrast to create a sense of elasticity and flexibility. After two sequences of arpeggios in m.88-101, Harrison slows down significantly during the syncopations in m.102-103 with poco sostenuto printed above, and instantly returns to the regular tempo in m.104 which has an a tempo printed above. Also, marked below m.103 in Harrison’s part are the words not much, suggesting the soloist should not play too sostenuto. Most other recorded interpreters slow down just as much as Harrison, but sometimes more. However, some interpreters return to the regular tempo in the middle of m.104 instead of the beginning.

In m.113 a piu mosso. is printed suggesting an increased tempo. In the recorded performance, Harrison produces this effect by setting a slower tempo in the previous measures. The published tempo from m.16 is = 160, and throughout the rest of the

movement, Harrison maintains a general tempo between = 160-168, but in m.104 her tempo is reduced to = 152. Then as she reaches the piu mosso in m.113, her tempo increases to = 176 from then on until the end of the movement, except for a brief retard in m.118. None of the other recorded interpreters reduce their tempo below their average tempos for the fast part of the movement. And, at m.113 most interpreters increase their tempo according to the piu mosso, although one exception is Steven Isserlis, who

58 maintains a steady tempo of = 176 from m.96 to the end. Other cellists like Jacqueline du Pré and Pieter Wispelwey speed up extremely fast during the last measures of the movement reaching and maintaining a tempo of = 192.

In m.118 of the recorded performance, Harrison slows down her sixteenth notes at a particularly high point on the third quarter beat, without any printed indication in the score, and then returns to the regular tempo gradually through the fourth quarter beat of sixteenth notes. By m.119 Harrison is back to the regular tempo. Also in m.119, Harrison’s part has the marking tempo above, but it is unclear if this is referring to her reduced tempo heard in the previous measure of the recording or referring to the printed piu mosso. from m.113.

Again, Harrison’s score has dynamic markings added among the several printed dynamics and hairpins in the section from m.85 to the end. In m.88 there is a crescendo hairpin below the whole measure. In m.89 there is a decrescendo hairpin below the second half of the measure. In both m.93 there is a crescendo hairpin below the whole measure. In m.95 there is a decrescendo hairpin below the whole measure. In m.98 there is a crescendo hairpin below the whole measure. In m.99 there is a decrescendo hairpin below the whole measure. In m.116-117 there is a crescendo hairpin from the second

quarter beat through to the end of m.117. In m.118 there is a decrescendo hairpin below the whole measure. And in m.119 there is a pp below the first note. The Harrison-Elgar recorded performance is consistent with these markings in every case.

59 Movement III: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1919 and 1928 Recordings and Harrison’s Markings70 71 72

Most of the movements in the 1919 Harrison-Elgar recorded performance have tempos that were compromised in order to fit the movements on four-minute record sides, however the tempos of the slow Adagio movement (Mov. III) were not compromised in the same way.73 In 1919 this movement was recorded uncut (i.e. without omissions). It finishes within ten seconds of the four minute maximum time available on that side of the record. The 1928 recording has a much longer maximum time available per side of four and three quarter minutes and, after Mov. III ends, the record side has fifty seconds of unused space. The 1919 recorded performance timing of Mov. III (3:52) is only a three second difference from the 1928 recorded performance timing of Mov. III (3:55). During the 1928 recorded performance, Elgar had this extra time available to use if he wished, there was no pressure to rush to the end of the movement to “fit” everything onto the record. These facts seem to suggest that the tempos in the 1928 recording of Mov. III strongly correlate with the composer’s intended tempos for the movement. And because there is only a three second difference in the timings of the 1919 and 1928 recorded performances of the Adagio movement, it is worthwhile to analyze the tempo, phrasing, and nuance of both recorded performances.

70 In this section the abbreviated reference H.1919 refers to the recorded performance of Beatrice Harrison conducted by Elgar in 1919. H.1928 refers to the recorded performance of Beatrice Harrison conducted by Elgar in 1928. 71 References to Harrison’s markings are from her complete solo score of the 1919 first edition since this copy has markings which closely correspond to both recordings. This is discussed in the section entitled “Harrison’s Print Copies of the First Edition Solo Part” 72 All markings that are written in pencil in Harrison’s copy of the first edition will be described as “marked.” Any pre-existing notation, both symbolic and verbal, in the first edition (London: Novello, 1919, catalog no.14633) will be described as “printed.” All words or symbols either marked or printed in Harrison’s solo score are quoted in italics. All foreign words used in the analysis which are not intended as quotations will not be italicized. 73 See the section on entitled “General Tempos.” 60 The following analysis will focus on the 1928 and 1919 Harrison-Elgar recorded performances, analyzing each phrase of Mov. III first in the 1928 recording and then in the 1919 recording. The order of analysis for each phrase will begin with the 1928 recording because it is more consistent with Harrison’s markings, which need to be described with reference to other printed indications pre-existing in the score. The abbreviated reverence H.1928 will refer to the recorded performance of Harrison conducted by Elgar in 1928, and H.1919 will refer to the recorded performance of Harrison conducted by Elgar in 1919.

Figure 7, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. III, m.1-7

The Adagio movement (Mov. III) is entirely lyrical and possibly analogous to an aria in its character, although not in its form. The printed tempo for the movement is = 50. The following is an analysis of H.1928 m.1-8 in comparison with Harrison’s markings. In m.1-2, there are printed hairpins – crescendo and decrescendo – below the soloist’s eighth-note melody, of a B-flat major arpeggio followed by chromatic notes. In H.1928 m.1-2 Harrison maintains a steady tempo of = 46, but performs with an extremely wide dynamic range, playing what sounds like a strong sforzando as she audibly shifts into the first note of m.2. She ends m.2 on the ten.-printed eighth note by nearly doubling the length of the note.

61

Everything that has been described here so far in Mov. III correspond with the markings in Harrison’s part. Above m.1-2 Harrison has marked climax, and below it swift. Above the printed molto espressivo an arrow is marked that points from the molto espressivo to the first note of m.2 which is marked lightly with a circle. And marked below the two printed hairpins are two similar hairpins, except the first extends over the measure line. All of these markings clearly point to the significance of the first note of m.2, to which Harrison strongly crescendos and emphasizes in H.1928. Finally, too much ten is marked in m.3 with a marked arrow that points to the printed ten. above the third note of m.2. This again is consistent with Harrison’s nearly double length performance of the note.

In H.1928 m.3-4 Harrison maintains a steady tempo until the next ten.-printed note and also starts at a much louder dynamic than the start of m.1. She sustains the dynamic through the eighth notes until the following quarter note and gradually tapers the dynamic to the end of the measure. Again as before she plays the ten.-printed note at nearly double length. Measures 5-6 are a transposition of m.3-4. In H.1928 m.5-6 the tempo is still steady until the next ten.-printed note. Harrison starts at a lesser dynamic than the start of m.3, but she phrases these measures in exactly the same way, sustaining

the dynamic of the first eighth notes and then tapering before playing the following ten.- printed note at double length. In H.1928 m.7-8, the two notes printed both with staccato and tenuto lines are played slightly under tempo, with wide vibrato, and releasing with a silence after each.

62 In the entire phrase of m.1-8, there are three ten.-printed eighth notes followed by eighth rests. Each of these notes are performed by Harrison in H.1928 with a decrescendo tapered into silence, so it is difficult to determine their length and difficult to determine the start of the down-beat eighth rests. Harrison’s dynamic contour in these measures contrast significantly with other major recorded interpreters; the range of her dynamics is the widest of them all. The contour progresses from what sounds like nearly fortissimo on the first note of m.2, to approximately forte at the beginning of m.3, and then approximately mezzo-forte or mezzo-piano at the beginning of m.5, before the final pianissimo in m.7.

The following is an analysis of the phrase in H.1919 m.1-8. In H.1919 m.1-2, Harrison maintains a tempo of = 50. She has a wide dynamic range, but this time she reaches her maximum dynamic by the third note and sustains it until the middle of m.2. Throughout m.1-2 she maintains a steady tempo until the last note which is printed ten. and held for almost double its normal length. In H.1919 m.3-4, Harrison slightly speeds up the first two eighth notes, but then slows down the next quarter note before reaching the following ten.-printed eighth note, which is again lengthened. In H.1919 m.5-6 Harrison phrases in the same manner as m.3-4, except without speeding up the first two eighth notes. In H.1919 m.7-8 Harrison plays the articulated eighth notes with a silence

in between them, in contrast to the sustained style of the previous measures. Meanwhile she maintains the tempo through m.7-8. One feature of H.1919 that contrasts with Harrison’s latter recording is the use of lengthened quarter notes in m.4 and m.6. One possible reason for the difference is that in H.1919 m.4 and m.6 Harrison does not audibly slide from the quarter note to the next note as she does in H.1928 m.4 and m.6.

63 In H.1928 m.4 and m.6 this sliding takes time, requiring to start an earlier initial shift from the quarter note than she would need to without a slide.

The following is an analysis of the phrase in H.1928 m.8-14 in comparison with Harrison’s markings. In this section the soloist’s melody, which starts in B-flat major, is characterized by frequent ascending octaves. In H.1928 m.8, Harrison starts at a tempo of = 42, slightly slower than in m.1. Throughout the phrase she maintains a steady tempo and from m.8-13 while smoothly sustaining the notes and subtly observing the many printed dynamic indications. Harrison’s score also has the word serene marked above m.9 in which the second note of the measure, which is at the bottom of one of the ascending octaves, is circled. The score also has the words too long marked above m.10 in which the second is again circled, suggesting that she intended on carefully controlling the length of the note. These markings are all consistent with H.1928.

In H.1928 m.11-12, there are four consecutive tenuto-line notes, all separately bowed. And also in m.11-12, Harrison minutely articulates each of these as she continues sustaining through them. In H.1928 m.13-14, for the first time during the phrase, she takes significant time on the second note of each measure as she decrescendos from p to pp. Both of these notes precede interval leaps in the melodic line, first an

octave, then a fourth. In m.14 of Harrison’s score the words notes more even are marked above the measure and in the margin, suggesting that she has played these distinctively uneven notes that emerge here, at the end of the rhythmically steady phrase, in that manner more than once.

64 The following is an analysis of the phrase in H.1919 m.8-14. While H.1928 m.8 begins at a tempo of = 42, H.1919 m.8 begins at = 56. Both recorded performances smoothly sustain the notes, and have a wide vibrato, but H.1919 m.8-14 has much more rhythmic nuance than the other. In H.1919 m.9-10, Harrison mildly accelerates through m.9 with the ascending octave toward the first note of m.10, the A, which she significantly lengthens before returning to the previous tempo. In H.1919 m.11-12, Harrison accelerates again through m.11 with another ascending octave, and this time she does not emphatically lengthen any of the notes, but instead maintains this slightly faster tempo through m.12 until m.13. In H.1919 m.13-14 she lengthens the second note of both measures in the same way as in H.1928 m.13-14.

The following is an analysis of the phrase in H.1928 m.15-26 in comparison with Harrison’s markings. In m.15-16, the ascending stepwise notes of the first measure are followed by a descending sixth and a half step in the second measure. This same pattern is transposed down a whole step in m.17-18. In m.19-22, there are two ascending sevenths, separated by a whole step, which take the melody to its highest point in the movement before descending during the next three measures. In m.23-26 a nearly identical pattern repeats, starting a third lower. While the previous phrase in H.1928 m.8- 14 is performed at a tempo of = 42, the phrase in H.1928 m.15-26, begins instantly in a

much faster but generally steady tempo of = 58 the previous phrase in H.1928 m.8-14 instantly changes in m.15, becoming = 58 instead of the previous = 42. Harrison performs this new tempo in a steady manner without any rhythmic nuance for the first five measures of this phrase (H.1928 m.15-19), and then crescendos in m.19, before she lengthens the highest note of the phrase (and the movement) printed ten. in H.1928 m.20. She lengthens both this and the next eighth note of m.20, returning to the previous tempo

65 during the two sixteenth notes which end the measure. Then, in H.1928 m.21-23 she remains steady, now at a tempo of = 48, before reaching the next printed ten. at the beginning of m.24. Here she lengthens both this tenuto note and the next eighth note, and then once again returning to the previous tempo during the following two sixteenth notes that end the measure, continuing in this tempo for the remaining three notes of the phrase.

Harrison’s markings for this phrase (m.15-26), have several words which contradict H.1928. The four words that she marked in the first four measures of the phrase (m.15-18) are accell, tempo, accell, tempo, yet in H.1928 Harrison plays these measures with a steady tempo and without any hint of rhythmic nuance. As will be seen later, this marking more closely matches H.1919. In m.19-20, more cre is marked above the staff, and keep up f is marked below the printed crescendo hairpin as well as f. All of these markings surround the high pitched ten-note at the beginning of m.20, and they match Harrison’s emphatic crescendo in H.1928. Then in m.20, no break and below that tempo are marked above the three remaining notes of the measure, including the two sixteenth notes mentioned above; and the printed dim below is also circled. These markings in m.20 are complemented in H.1928 by Harrison’s even diminuendo of connected notes as she clearly regains the tempo at the beginning of the sixteenth notes as marked. Although the melody in m.19-22 is paralleled in m.23-26, Harrison’s markings this time highlight the contrasting elements. In m.22-23 p is marked between two hairpins – decrescendo and then crescendo – while in m.24 the printed pp is circled below the high pitched ten.-note of this passage. The previous high pitched ten.-note in m.20 was contrastingly printed f . Finally, in m.24 no and below that rit are marked above the two sixteenth notes that end the measure. These markings in m.22-24 are complemented

66 in H.1928 with a contrastingly quieter dynamic than in m.19-22, and after lengthening the first two eighth notes of m.24, Harrison clearly returns to the regular tempo starting at the beginning of the sixteenth notes in this measure.

The following is an analysis of the phrase in H.1919 m.15-26. This earlier performance of this phrase is very similar to H.1928 m.15-26 in all of previously described details except for the first four measures, which are marked accell, tempo, accell, tempo. While both recorded performances start at a tempo of = 58, H.1919 takes these four markings quite literally with both Harrison and the orchestra beginning to rhythmically ebb and flow in each measure, especially in the orchestra’s accompanying syncopations.

Figure 8, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. III, m.29-42

The following is an analysis of the two closely joined phrases in H.1928 m.26-44 in comparison with Harrison’s markings. The first phrase in m.26-32 is a transposition of the melody in m.8-14, a half-step lower, with its three distinctive ascending octave leaps. The second phrase in m.33-44 is a transposition of m.15-26, again a half-step lower, with its two descending sixths leading later to two ten.-note high points later on. The melody begins in m.26 with an orchestral tutti, joined shortly after by the soloist. 67

At the beginning of the phrase in H.1928 m.26, the orchestra instantly increases it’s tempo to = 63, the fastest tempo of the movement yet. When Harrison joins in the melody in H.1928 m.28 she begins to accelerate, increasing the tempo in each following measure. In m.29 along with a cresc. printed below, her score has too matter of fact marked above. As Harrison crescendos to a printed ff in the next measures, her tempo

accelerates to an extremely fast rate of = 116 in H.1928 m.33. From H.1928 m.26-33 the tempo nearly doubles from = 63-116, and from H.1928 m.8-33 the tempo nearly

triples from = 42-116. In the score, molto stringendo is printed above m.31-32, clearly indicating a significant increase in tempo. Harrison’s markings complement this with appas. marked in m.32, one measure before the printed appassionato in m.33, as well as the word rush marked above m.33-34, and the word climax marked above m.34-35. At the height of the acceleration in H.1928 m.33-35, Harrison also forcefully articulates the accents printed in m.33 and 35 in the same style as her previous accented and tenuto- lined notes. These accents have the combination of an initially accelerated bow slowing into a highly sustained forte.

In H.1928 m.36, Harrison begins to lengthen her notes as she reaches m.37 with its printed largamente and the following ten.-note in m.38 in imitation of the lengthened ten.-notes in m.20 and m.24. Harrison continues her ritard and begins decreasing her dynamic through the printed rit. e dim. in H.1928 m.38-39, and the printed Tempo Iº in m.41, at which point the tempo has returned to = 46, the exact same tempo as the beginning of the movement. Harrison continues lengthening these notes through H.1928 m.41-42 in which a fermata instead of a ten. is printed above the first note. In Harrison’s

68 score the note with the fermata is circled and the marking too slow is printed to the right of it.

The following is an analysis of the phrase in H.1919 m.26-44. Harrison this time joins in the orchestra’s melody in H.1919 m.28 at a tempo of = 58 compared to the = 63 in H.1928. In the following measures H.1919 m.29-32 Harrison and the orchestra increase in tempo in swelling stages of rhythmic nuance instead of steadily and urgently like in H.1928, and as expressed in the printed molto stringendo. But starting in H.1919 m.33 the tempo makes an instant increase to = 100, only about double the tempo in H.1919 m.8, and Harrison plays the accents in H.1919 m.33 and m.35 with the same aggressive but sustained temperament as in H.1928. In H.1919 m.36-38 Harrison begins lengthening her notes even more so than H.1928, especially the ten.-note at the beginning of H.1919 m.38. Her deceleration has the same kind of varied rhythmic nuance as H.1919 m.29-32, continuing in a similar style through to the end of H.1919 m.44.

The following is an analysis of the two phrases in H.1928 m.45-60, in comparison with Harrison’s markings. The first phrase in m.45 begins as a transposition of the same melody beginning in m.8 as well as m.26. This time the melody begins in E-flat major, the main key of the Concerto, but after four measures it digresses in m.49, eventually

cadencing in m.52-53 in the key of B-flat major. The following phrase in m.53-60 is a restatement of the phrase in m.1-8 with only a few differences. Both are in B-flat major, but this time the solo cello part has a B-flat dotted quarter note instead of an arpeggio in the first measure, and for each of the three previously ten.-notes followed by eighth rests, there are two tied eighth notes and no rests.

69 In H.1928 m.45-50 Harrison maintains a steady tempo within the phrase, just as she had done during much of the first half of the movement. The word tranquillo is printed above m.45, and Harrison’s score also has tranquillo marked below m.48-50. The tempo in H.1928 m.49 is = 50. Later in H.1928 m.51-52 Harrison lengthens each note as she passes the printed fermata above the third note of m.51, playing on the G string, before slowly arriving at the cadence in m.52-53. Harrison’s score has several markings in m.51-53 where she slows down in H.1928. In m.51 tone is marked below her G string notes, and there are two p markings over and under the printed fermata. And in m.52 climax is marked above the staff and too much is marked below the staff. As before, it can be speculated that the word climax is most likely used to indicate phrasing rather than a large scale structural marking since it has been marked twice before in m.1- 2 and m.34-35. Harrison most likely marked m.52 with climax because of the cadence’s resolution to B-flat major, the key that began Mov. III.

In H.1928 m.53-60, at the restatement of the beginning phrase, the tempo initially remains slow from the previous cadence, as the orchestra this time plays the beginning arpeggio before Harrison joins in the melody during the chromatic notes of m.54. As soon as Harrison joins in at the beginning of H.1928 m.54 her tempo instantly changes from the previous = less than 40 to a new tempo of = 48. This new tempo is nearly the same as at the beginning of the movement, as well as at the Tempo Iº in m.41, and nothing is printed in the score to indicate this instant change at the beginning of m.54, Harrison’s score has the marking time up below m.54. In the remaining melody of H.1928 m.54-60, Harrison lengthens each high note of the phrase in the same manner as she did in H.1928 m.1-8, even though this time there are no printed indications of rhythmic nuance, not even the three ten. indications that appeared the first time.

70

The following is an analysis of the two phrases in H.1919 m.45-60. Harrison takes many more liberties of rhythmic nuance in H.1919 m.45-50 compared to her entirely steady phrasing in H.1928 m.45-50. In many cases the rhythmic nuance is unpredictable and varied, like that of Pablo Casals. In H.1919 m.51-54, the tempo is performed similarly to H.1928, but while H.1928 returns to the beginning tempo in m.54, H.1919 returns one measure earlier (m.53) during the orchestra’s arpeggio. In the final phrase of H.1919 m.53-60, Harrison once again lengthens the first quarter note of both m.56 and m.58, in the same manner that she did to the first quarter note of both H.1919 m.4 and m.6.

While Harrison’s two recorded performances of Mov. III are different in many respects, they both have very distinctive accelerations during the printed molto stringendo, reaching more than twice the regular tempo. This aspect of Elgar’s musical style is entirely absent from other major recorded interpretations of the Concerto. Most of the recorded performers of the Concerto that are popular today interpret the molto stringendo with peak tempos as high as = 66, but no faster, compared to Harrison’s 100 in H.1919 and 116 in H.1928. It is also important to remember that the tempos in Mov. III in both H.1919 and H.1928 are strongly correlated with the composer’s intended tempos for the movement.

Another observation from the recorded performances of Mov. III is the unique contrast between steady tempo and molto stringendo in H.1928. The general degree of rhythmic control in the phrases before and after the molto stringendo in H.1928 Mov. III have a profoundly contrasting quality, and these two extremes are not achieved nearly to

71 the same level in any other recorded performance than in Harrison’s recorded performance in 1928.

Movement IV: Tempo, Phrasing, and Nuance in the 1928 Recording and Harrison’s Markings74 75

The fourth movement of the 1928 Harrison-Elgar recorded performance is the only movement that evidence suggests was performed generally faster than the composer’s intended tempos for the movement. The movement was recorded onto two 78 r.p.m. record sides; the end of the first side occurring at no. 62 (m.232) for a playing time of four minutes and thirty-five seconds (4:35). The second side has a playing time of four minutes and thirty-nine seconds (4:39). Both record sides end within ten seconds of the maximum available playing time of four and three-quarter minutes (4:45) on each side. Early recording artists before the 1950s often had a tradition of watching a clock during recording sessions if there was a risk that they could perform over the maximum available time before they reached their pre-planned stopping point. During the 1928 Harrison-Elgar recording, with less than ten seconds left on each of the two sides for Mov. IV, Elgar must have been paying attention to the clock while he was conducting.

The fourth movement opens with a quick eight-measure orchestral introduction containing a prominent rhythmic motive that is extensively developed throughout the

74 References to Harrison’s markings are from her complete solo score of the 1919 first edition since this copy has markings which closely correspond to both recordings. This is discussed in the section entitled “Harrison’s Print Copies of the First Edition Solo Part”. 75 All markings that are written in pencil in Harrison’s copy of the first edition will be described as “marked.” Any pre-existing notation, both symbolic and verbal, in the first edition (London: Novello, 1919, catalog no.14633) will be described as “printed.” All words or symbols either marked or printed in Harrison’s solo score are quoted in italics. All foreign words used in the analysis which are not intended as quotations will not be italicized. 72 movement. The rhythmic motive can be described as a measure with two quarter notes followed by a measure with an alternating pattern of one eighth note and two sixteenths. The introduction includes three occurrences of this rhythmic motive progressing octatonically instead of diatonically before reaching the soloist’s E minor quasi Recit. in m.9. The published tempo beginning in m.1 is = 120. In the Harrison-Elgar recorded performance of 1928, the orchestra begins the movement at a tempo of = 126, sounding less accurately controlled in terms of rhythm and intonation than other available recorded performances of the Concerto. As we will see later in the “external view,” first-rate orchestras in Britain during the 1920s usually had only one or two rehearsals before concerts and recording sessions, and were famous for their sight-reading ability.

Figure 9, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.9-13

In the printed quasi Recit. section of m.9-19, the soloist begins with a partial statement of the rhythmic motive in E minor before progressing into quasi-cadential material. The section is printed Moderato and nobilmente with a printed metronome indication of = 72. In the 1928 Harrison-Elgar recorded performance, Harrison begins this section at a tempo of = 80. She aggressively articulates and then sustains the first two half notes in m.9, and then continues with three measures (m.10-12) each with the rhythm of a quarter note, two eighth notes, and finally a half note. In each of these measures, as she sustains her dynamic through every note, she consistently lengthens the quarter notes slightly as she also contrastingly shortens the eighth notes. All other

73 recorded interpreters of this section, with the exception of Pablo Casals, maintain a more literal rhythm with less rhythmic nuance.

In m.13, with appassionato printed below, Harrison accelerates throughout the whole measure, matching her previous interpretation of the printed appassionato in Mov.III m.33 – near the printed molto stringendo – where she reaches the fastest tempo within Mov. III. Other interpreters play this measure at a much slower tempo, and Jaqueline du Pré’s 1965 recorded performance is by far the slowest of them all. Then in m.14, as the orchestra plays a long sustained chord, the soloist plays a virtuosic descending arpeggio beginning with three emphatic eighth notes printed with agogic accents followed by eight thirty-second notes, and then ascending with eight more. Harrison plays the three agogic accented eighth notes with three consecutive down bows that sound very short and sharply accented, before playing the thirty-second notes in a fast and even fashion. Harrison’s score has an additional accent marked at the lowest point of the arpeggio. Most other recorded interpreters play these agogic accented notes in a more lyrical and sustained way, and some of them apply heavy rubato to the thirty- second note passage, lengthening the top and sometimes also lengthening the bottom of the arpeggio.

In m.15-16 the melody of m.9-10 reappears, this time with different grace notes and inflections. In the middle of m.15 there is a printed comma-shaped breath mark between the second and third quarter beats, as well as a grace note before the third beat. Harrison plays m.15 at a tempo fast enough for the breath mark and following grace note to sound like a high leap of the bow in the air and a sharply accented crash landing. Other recorded interpreters of this measure typically have a slower tempo and only create

74 this effect to a lesser degree. Then Harrison plays m.16 on the D string and highlights the change in tone. Marked in her score between m.15 and m.16 is another comma-shaped breath mark, and the printed espress in m.16 is circled. These two markings suggest a clear change in character between the two measures.

In m.17 the soloist has a printed rit., and ten., progressing to a fermata. All of these indications are printed over a rhythm of three eighth notes followed by two sixteenth notes before the fermata note. The rhythm and the phrasing indications appear to oppose each other; the rhythm speeding up while the phrasing indications slow down. In this measure, as Harrison slows down and approaches the fermata, she blurs the rhythmic transition from eighth notes to sixteenth notes, creating the effect of a very subtle poco rit., and she plays the sixteenth notes with an emphatic portato bow stroke.

After the fermata, there is a pickup of two sixteenth notes leading to m.18, which is an unmeasured printed ad lib. Harrison takes many freedoms in this measure and plays it at a faster general tempo than later recorded cellists. She plays the first eighth-note chord and following single eighth note as if they were sixteenth notes like the pickups. The following two quarter beats are then performed in rhythmic relation to the pickup sixteenth notes. This same rhythmic pattern reoccurs a third higher after the first fermata of the measure. Other recorded interpreters play the rhythm of this measure with a more literal interpretation of the eighth notes mentioned earlier.

Following the second fermata are the first four thirty-second notes of a ff run based on a D# diminished seventh chord in m.19 printed a tempo. Harrison plays the run at a tempo of = 200. At the end of the run is a high pitched quarter note A, tied to a

75 staccato eighth note A, which Harrison plays as a harmonic without any vibrato. In her part the tied staccato eighth note is circled and below it is marked orchestra and below that off, suggesting that she synchronizes the release of the tied A with the orchestra. Among other recorded interpreters Jacqueline du Pré again takes the slowest tempo of them all, reaching only an = 152.

Measure 20 is the beginning of the main Allegro section in the movement, with a printed tempo of = circa 108. In Harrison’s 1928 recorded performance she begins at a

much faster tempo of = 126, and throughout this section she maintains tempos generally ranging from = 108-132. Although the tempos of Mov. IV might have been compromised during this recording to fit it on two record sides, Elgar has been also known to significantly vary his general tempos during different public performances of the same works. It can only be speculated on as to why he chose to play faster during this large section.

The soloist’s melody beginning in m.20 is based on the rhythmic motive of the introduction, although the first quarter note is replaced this time with an eighth note and eighth rest, and Elgar has added grace notes. Here the orchestra accompanies the soloist with short chords on the second and fourth eighth-beats of each measure. This variant of

the rhythmic motive is presented three times before fragmenting it in m.26-27. While Harrison begins this section ff, she clearly decrescendos through m.23-24, and before the second half of m.24 she reduces the dynamic with a subito effect before gradually returning to the previous ff by m.27. There is no printed indication of this in the score, but Harrison’s score has a corresponding marking. A decrescendo hairpin is marked

76 below the second half of m.23 and the first half of m.24, and a p is marked below the second beat of m.24, very clearly matching with her performance.

In m.25-27 Harrison accelerates slightly as she crescendos through the ascending melody. In m.27 another comma-shaped breath mark is printed between the first eighth note and the final two sixteenth notes of the run which are both accented this time. In this measure Harrison interrupts the rhythm, allowing the bow to leap as she did in m.15 before returning the bow to the string and compensating for some of the lost time with sixteenth notes performed as if they were printed as thirty-seconds notes. Other recorded interpreters typically tend to do the opposite with these sixteenth notes by lengthening them. Later, in m.32-38, after four measures of accompaniment, the soloist joins back into the orchestra’s melody in progress. Here Harrison continues to increase the tempo throughout this passage with a sense of urgency, even playing ahead of the orchestra slightly. While Harrison’s tempo in m.28 was = 120, by m.38 she reaches a tempo of = 132. All other recorded interpreters of this passage maintain a more controlled tempo, most notably Jacqueline du Pré’s recorded performance, which sounds metronomic with the same tempo of = 112 in m.20, m.28, and m.38. The orchestra continues without the soloist from m.39-55 with an octatonic passage that gradually slows down, returning to diatonicism as the soloist returns.

Starting in m.56, which is printed allargando as well as a dolce, Harrison returns with a rhythmically flexible melody. At the highest point of the melody, she lengthens the fermata note that has much marked above it to more than double its length before descending to the printed a tempo in m.58. After this, she gradually accelerates as she descends further towards the fast triplet sixteenth note and thirty-second note figure in

77 m.59. While the triplet sixteenth notes in this measure have printed staccatos, Harrison plays the notes as if there are no staccatos. While Pablo Casals plays them the same way, most other recorded interpreters have interpreted this figure, that starts with three staccato triplet sixteenth notes, with an up-bow ricochet stroke before starting the thirty-second notes, since the tempo is too fast to clearly articulate the notes by starting with the bow on the string.

Figure 10, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.75-80

For the rest of this section from m.60 to m.83, Harrison continues with a flexible tempo. The previous phrase ends with a rather fast tempo after the descending and accelerating figure, and then the tempo slows again as the next phrase begins to ascend, leading to another descending and accelerating figure that reaches a tempo of = 112. Harrison then continues the next two phrases in a more steady tempo in the next two phrases before changing her temperament starting in m.73 by interpreting the tenuto-line notes with articulated and accelerated broader bow strokes. During this phrase of the section she begins to accelerate again, this time to her fastest tempo, = 132, by m.76, and as she approaches the fermata printed A-flat in m.77 she does not slow down before arriving, but instead accelerates into it. This effect is complemented in her score with the marking tempo up to Ab. Other recorded interpreters usually perform a slight ritard before the fermata. In the final phrase of the section beginning in m.78, Harrison

78 continues her flexibility by slowing in m.82, a measure before the printed ten. as she approaches the next section of sixteenth notes.

In m.84, the soloist begins a section of slurred sixteenth notes, and Harrison and until the printed allargando in m.105 Harrison maintains a steady tempo of = 112, clearly observing all of the printed hairpins. Beginning at the printed allargando in m.105, she adds very subtle nuances of flexibility, most notably by lengthening the last two notes of m.107. At the printed a tempo in m.108 she returns to her previous steady character until m.112 when she begins to accelerate nearly four measures earlier than the printed animato in m.114-115. She then slows again, beginning at the printed allargando in m.118, and in m.122 she plays the remaining four measures of the slurred sixteenth- note section in the printed calando style, although subtly, before broadening the second half of m.125 as she ends the sixteenth notes and changes to sustained half notes. Other recorded interpreters of this sixteenth-note section typically take more liberties with the tempo throughout and not just when indicated.

The tempo of the recorded performance for the following section from m.137 to 159 begins at = 126, and reaches = 132 by m.159. At this fast tempo, Harrison can still clearly articulate the staccatos in m.146, but during the printed animato section of

broken chords starting in m.149, she seems to struggle with clarity by m.153, so that the top and bottom notes of each broken chord can only be heard once. Then, during a short melodic exchange between the orchestra and the soloist from m.159-166, Harrison plays her separate bowed sixteenth notes with staccato articulation, even though it is not indicated in the score, while maintaining a tempo of = 126. Following this, there is another section of broken chords from m.167-177 that Harrison plays at the same tempo.

79 Once again, in this section, Harrison struggles with clarity beginning about four measures in at m.171, and even misses the pitch of the highest chord in m.174 by a half-step.

While it is easy to speculate on the various possible reasons for Harrison’s lapse in clarity in these broken chord sections of m.149-159 and m.167-177, one objective comparison can be made between the printed tempo and her 1928 recorded performance tempo. While the general printed tempo for this entire Allegro ma non troppo section of the movement (m.20-280) is = circa 108, Harrison’s tempo during these broken chord

sections ranges from = 126-132. This is much faster than Elgar’s printed tempo, suggesting that Elgar might have been rushing these broken-chord sections in order to reach m.232 (the end of the first record side) within four and three-quarter minutes (4:45). The total playing time of this first record side is four minutes and thirty-five seconds (4:35), about ten seconds less than the maximum available for the side. Also, it is important to note that later in m.197, a Tempo Iº is printed, along with nobilmente, suggesting a return to the slower previously marked tempo in m.20 of = circa 108, implying that Elgar intended the tempo to increase in the previous section. Other major recorded interpreters of these broken chord sections have tempos ranging from = 116- 138.

In m.181-194, the tempo of the recorded performance increases even more to = 138 as the technical difficulty of the soloist’s part decreases. Harrison plays each grace note in this section extremely fast just as she did in m.15 in the quasi Recit at the beginning of the movement. Another insightful set of markings in this section of Harrison’s score is the series of circled notes, one in each of measures 187, 189, 191, and 193; these circled notes form a diminished seventh chord beginning on G.

80

The tempo of the recorded performance finally slows down during the orchestra’s printed poco rit. in m.195-196, and in the following m.197, with a printed Tempo Iº and below that nobilmente, the tempo begins at a quarter note = 108, the exact same tempo as the printed one at the beginning of the Allegro ma non troppo in m.20. Later the tempo after m.197 increases to = 120 in m.205, and then = 132 in m.217, fourteen measures before the end of the record side in m.232. Most other recorded interpreters also accelerate from m.197-217, but the fastest among them reach maximum tempo of only = 120.

Figure 11, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.239-257

In m.232-254 there are several markings in Harrison’s score which correspond closely with the recorded performance. After another octatonic orchestral section in m.217-231, the soloist starts a C major melody in m.232 that at first looks like a transposition of the melody beginning in m.56. Harrison plays it in the exact same style as before, but with a slightly slower tempo. The melody changes in m.239 with an ascending thirty-second note figure instead of a descending one. In the next phrase

81 (m.240-244) Harrison very slightly and subtly broadens the tempo which suggests a calando style, and in her score poco cal is marked above m.239-240 with a corresponding horizontal dash over m.242. In the phrase after that (m.244-248), during which there are several tenuto-line notes, Harrison minutely pushes the tempo, matching consistently with the poco accell marked in m.244-246, as well as the crossed out allargando printed in m.247, and finally the marking a tempo above m.248. In the following phrase (m.249- 254), Harrison begins to broaden the tempo again, but this time slows even more, especially beginning at m.250, but after the lowest point in m.251, she gradually increases the tempo consistently into the next section of pizzicato chords beginning in m.255. Again Harrison’s score markings correspond with this exactly. In m.250 cal is marked with a matching horizontal dash through the margin and onto the next line below m.251. Below m.252-253 poco a poco tempo is marked, the printed poco rit. above is crossed out, and the word tempo is marked above m.254, a measure before the printed a tempo in m.255. Other major recorded interpreters of m.232-254 differ greatly in their phrasing, choosing a variety of stylistic effects.While m.232-254 is performed at a tempo of = 100, slower than the previous similar starting in m.56, the following phrase (m.255-263) of off-beat pizzicato chords returns to a steady tempo of = 132. Harrison continues through m.255-272 at a steady tempo of = 116. In m.273 the printed indication calando is circled in her score. At this point she begins gradually broadening

every note. Compared to other interpreters she reaches a lesser dynamic sooner.

In the following lyrical section beginning in m.281, the printed tempo indication

is = 88. Harrison plays this section with extreme rhythmic flexibility. In m.282 she surges forward in tempo only to back off in the next measure. Measure 284 begins in a similar way but continues accelerating beyond the bar line. In m.285 accel. is printed

82 with a corresponding printed rall. in the next measure over the third quarter beat. Elgar rarely indicates small nuances like this, but Harrison not only plays these indications literally, but her anticipation of this type of flexibility began three measures earlier. Other recorded interpreters almost always play with less flexibility her than Harrison. Her general tempo for this section (m.281-292) ranges between = 84-88. Other more recent interpreters typically maintain a tempo between = 52-76. Harrison’s faster tempo allows her a wider range of subtle flexibility. In m.289, Harrison plays the dotted rhythms in an slightly over-dotted manner. In m.302-303 the word appas. is marked below and at this point (ranging from m.297-305) the orchestra quickly increases the

tempo from = 76-108, while no other major recorded orchestra increases in tempo any more than = 72. When the soloist returns in m.306, the tempo slows down as before, but it returns at the next two-measure tutti section.

Figure 12, Harrison’s copy of the Cello Concerto, Mov. IV, m.315-335

Most listeners would ascribe this effect of rushing the tutti sections to Elgar’s need to fit the fourth movement onto two record sides, yet Harrison’s marking of appas in m.302-303 may suggest a musical acceleration, as it has in previous sections marked appassionato (Mov. III m.33; Mov. IV m.13). After the final tutti in m.314-315, Harrison instantly slows the tempo for the following section m.315-331. Harrison’s most

83 interesting markings here are her fingerings. During this chromatic section, she expressively uses portamento eight times within three measures (m.317-319). The following m.321-324 slows down gradually over the course of eight measures before the soloist quotes a full phrase from Mov. III. In Harrison’s part, the printed dim e rit in m.328-329 are both circled, as well as the two fermatas in m.331.

In m.332 the soloist returns now to the opening material of the first movement. Here Harrison matches the exact same tempo as her opening of Mov. I ( = 46). In m.333 she expressively shortens the first and third eighth notes while lengthening the second and fourth eighth notes. This is a major contrast to the first time where it was marked equal. The grace notes in m.334-335 are again snapped just as sharply as at the beginning and the fermata-note is placed at the tip of the bow just like at the beginning, but this time her bow strikes the string forcefully and articulately.

The tempo at m.336 begins at = 126, eventually increasing to = 132. While the triad in m.339 is played in an articulated broken manner, Harrison avoids the second triad in m.343 playing only the top note before significantly lengthening the next eighth note before the following printed a tempo. The final return of the Mov. IV rhythmic motive beginning in m.345 is played by both Harrison and the orchestra with rushed sixteenth notes, creating a sense of uneven urgency as they both race to the top of the scale at the beginning of m.348.

84 THE HARRISON-ELGAR RECORDINGS: THE EXTERNAL VIEW

Elgar’s two recorded performances are vivid windows into history and they reveal a lot of data, from performance tempos to fine nuances. But there is also a clear story behind the making of early recordings and their musician’s style and technical standard. The background of witness accounts and secondary source evidence is vast.

In 1919, the recorded performance of Beatrice Harrison, conducted by Elgar, was heavily influenced by the technology of the day. The sound quality of the recording is very poor, so to accommodate the technology and improve the end result of the recording session the orchestra was reduced in size, positioned uncomfortably close, and reinforced by added brass instruments. These conditions drastically changed from 1919 to 1928 so that there was no longer the need to compromise the orchestra’s size, position, or instrumentation in the 1928 recorded performance.

Other practical matters influenced the technical standard of Harrison, the orchestra, and Elgar. Among the countless influences are the amount of rehearsals and recording takes, and the deputy system of substitutes.

The Recording Process Before 1925

Before 1925, when electrical amplification became available in the recording studio, music was recorded mechanically, with the sound being acoustically gathered by one or more large horn-shaped cones.76 The sound quality of recordings, especially

76 See the section on page __ entitled “General Tempos.” 85 orchestral recordings, was so poor that only a few celebrated musicians took it

seriously.77 And, it also seems clear that few of the record buying public in Britain took orchestral recordings seriously either. Robert Philip writes about the recorded orchestra’s popularity in Britain before and after 1925.

When at the end of the period of acoustic recording, the Gramophone in October 1925 published a list of most popular records as voted by their readers, very few orchestral recordings were included. This was despite the fact that many orchestral works were by then available, including all of Beethoven’s symphonies. When a similar survey of the most popular electrical recordings was published after only three years of electrical recording, in April 1928, two thirds of them were orchestral, including seven of the ten most popular.78

The pre-1925 recording process involved performing close to a large cone shaped horn. The small end of the horn was connected to a needle. Sound vibrations, passed from the bell of the horn to the needle, which etched the surface of a flat and soft wax disc in

the spiral pattern of a record.79 After this wax master disc was recorded on, it could not be replayed at the recording session. It had to be processed at a factory before the

recording could be heard.80

Jerrold N. Moore writes about some of the technological difficulties of the recording process:

[T]he ‘acoustic’ process presented two problems. One was that the range and dynamics of sound from a large group of instruments would defeat the mechanism unless confined within rigid limits. Even then it was found that certain instruments of the regular orchestra, such as the lower strings, would not record successfully no matter where they were placed.81

77 Jerrold N. Moore ,Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 2. 78 Robert Philip, Early Recordings and Musical Style: Changing Tastes in Instrumental Performance, 1900-1950 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 35. 79 Moore, Elgar on Record, 1. 80 Ibid, 6. 81 Ibid, 2. 86

Musical Implications of the Pre-1925 Recording Process

Pre-1925 recordings have extremely high levels of background noise. And, the frequency range is so poor that some of the usual orchestral instruments are very difficult to hear in the balance. Robert Philip writes, “[b]ecause there was no electrical amplification, all the musicians had to be contained in a small room and within close

range of the recording horn in order to be audible.”82 The implications of this are that orchestras were significantly pared down, numbering no more than thirty members to be able to fit in a small recording studio. Many of the musicians performed in very cramped conditions to be as close to the recording horn as possible.83 And, Since the lower string section would not record well, they were often doubled by extra brass instruments such as and .84 The Elgar-Harrison recorded performance in 1919 has a very prominent brass section, suggesting the orchestral cello and string bass parts were reinforced by added brass instruments.

A photograph exists of the recording session.85 Harrison appears to be playing and Elgar is raising his baton, but they are definitely not recording at that moment because there is a man standing in the open door of recording session room. Within view are five members of the orchestra. At their eye level are two cones, or horns as they are sometimes called, protruding from a wood panel box. One of the horns is directed at the orchestra while the other smaller horn is directed at Harrison and appears to be only

82 Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 27. 83 Ibid. 84 Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 2. 85 The photograph of the recording session is kept in the Radio Times Hulton Picture Library. 87 about three feet away from her. Harrison is positioned at a much higher level than the five orchestra members in view so that her bow is also at their eye level as she plays. Elgar is standing behind her at the same higher level, virtually towering over the orchestra so as not to strike anyone with the baton in the cramped setting. Finally at the very edge is a partial view of another cello. It is also positioned at the higher level suggesting that other orchestra members beyond the photograph’s view may have been also positioned at the higher level.

Under these physically cramped conditions, a small thirty member orchestra with added brass instruments could only reproduce some of the conditions and sound of a concert performance. This is compounded by the evidence in the previous chapter that Elgar was also limited by the maximum four-minute record sides and must have compromised the artistic integrity of the tempos in the first, second, and fourth movements. Therefore this highly compromised recorded performance could only partially represent what Elgar wanted the Cello Concerto to sound like.

Recordings After 1925

After the innovation of electrical amplification in 1925, the microphones were able to pick up on vivid details performed by a full orchestra in a large uncramped space. There was no more need to reduce the orchestra size or reinforce parts with extra brass instruments. The Harrison – Elgar recorded performance of the Concerto in 1928 took

place at Queens Hall, a concert hall in London.86 The orchestra during the 1928 recorded performance, had the following instrumentation: 2 , 2 , 2 , 2 ,

86 Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 82. 88 1 contra , 4 horns, 2 , 3 trombones, 1 , , 10 first , 8

second violins, 6 , 4 , and 2 double basses; a total membership of fifty.87 Performances were still recorded onto wax master discs, which could not be replayed at the recording session.

Limited Rehearsals and the Deputy Substitute System

Adam Carse’s book Orchestral Conducting, first published in 1929,88 is quoted

by Robert Philip in his book, Performing Music in the Age of Recording.89 Carse describes in detail the state of orchestra rehearsals in Britain at that time. He considers “first class professional orchestras” in Britain in the 1920s to be “complete, technically

efficient, but under present conditions in England, often woefully under-rehearsed.”90 He adds:

Even though an orchestra bears a name, the individual players may vary from year to year or even concert to concert …. The ordinary rule is one rehearsal for one concert; two rehearsals may occasionally be conceded, but must be regarded as rather exceptional, while for a series of daily concerts at which a familiar repertoire is played, two or three rehearsals a week are all that can be expected.91

To make matters worse, as Philip states:

Players in most orchestras were free to send deputies to rehearsals or concerts if they found a more lucrative engagement elsewhere. … [Conductor] had disallowed deputizing in the Queen’s Hall Orchestra from 1904, and it became known as the best orchestra in London.92

87 Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 82. 88 Adam Carse, Orchestral Conducting (London: Augener, 1935), 27-32. 89 Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 63-64. 90 Carse, Orchestral Conducting (London: Augener, 1935), 27-32, in Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 64. 91 Ibid. 92 Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording, 63, 65. 89 The standard of musical preparation in first-rate British orchestras of the 1920s was poor, being commented on by many people at the time. Music scholar Michael Kennedy prints a quote by the conductor Adrian Boult from the early 1920s. Boult is best known for conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra, formed in 1930, which is credited with setting a new high technical standard of performance in Britain. Boult writes:

The LSO [London Symphony Orchestra] know they read marvelously and therefore think that a thing as sight-read by them is ready for performance, and even Coates [the conductor of the LSO at the time] has trouble when he wants hard work out of them. It is a certainty that the Mengelberg standard of ensemble, for instance, is unknown to them: they don’t believe they’ve anything to learn in that or any other way, but worse than this, when they hear it … they talked about the mechanical precision in a superior way and didn’t realise that precision could be learnt from them and need not be mechanical.93

The technical standard of first-rate British orchestras was often compared to contemporary foreign orchestras. Robert Philip quotes a record review of the New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra by W. R. Anderson in the periodical Gramophone in 1929:

Here … are the fine and comforting fruits of adequate rehearsal … everybody knows not only where he is going but – what the members of our inadequately rehearsed native orchestras too rarely fully know – where everybody else is going … I love our British orchestras and long to see them take the place which the talent of our players justify their taking; but until they can get more than two rehearsals for a concert, and do away with the debasing ‘deputy’ system, they never will take a supreme place with those who understand orchestral playing.94

93 Michael Kennedy, Adrian Boult (London: Hamish Hamilton 1987), 79. 94 Gramophone, September 1929, 160. ‘K.K.’ was W. R. Anderson, in Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 68. 90 Comparisons with Thoroughly Rehearsed Orchestras

While first-rate orchestras in the Britain of the 1920s were certainly under- rehearsed, they share some characteristics with other celebrated orchestras of the 1920s that were more thoroughly rehearsed. Several celebrated orchestras in continental Europe and the United States operated on a great deal more rehearsal, but still retained a degree of rhythmic flexibility in their recorded performances that is uncommon today. While the New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra, under the direction of Toscanini, was

“adequately rehearsed,”95 the orchestra still had an execution of rhythm that can be comparable to the Royal Albert Hall Orchestra of the Harrison-Elgar recordings. Robert Philip writes:

One of the most obvious features of the rhythmic style of Elgar’s day was a tendency, in patterns of long and short notes, to lighten and hurry the short notes. For example, in Elgar’s 1926 recording of the Cockaigne overture with the RAH Orchestra, the rhythms … are played with fast, light semiquavers [sixteenth notes]. To modern ears this makes the rhythm sound rather casusal; less clear and precise than in the style of our own day. This sort of “throwaway” rhythmic lightness was the norm in the 1920s, and it can be heard in the playing of the most highly regarded players and ensembles of the period: Stokowski’s Philadelphia Orchestra, Toscanini’s New York Philharmonic, the Lener and Busch quartets, pianists such as Paderewski and Rakhmaninov, and so on.96

These rhythmic details exist in Toscanini’s recordings alongside of his reputation for demanding high standards and for his famous penchant for frequently firing musicians.

95 Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 91. 96 Robert Philip, “The Recordings of Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Authenticity and Performance Practice.” Early Music 12, No. 4 (November 1984), 483-484. 91 Portamento Style or Crutch?

As with rhythmic flexibility, Portamento (i.e. audibly sliding between notes) was also a frequent expression used by well-rehearsed orchestras during the 1920s. While the Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam, directed by Willem Mengelberg, had “an exceptional amount of rehearsal time, and Mengelberg was renowned for his attention to

detail, as the comments of Mahler, Stravinsky, and Carl Flesch testify”97 the orchestra also performed with a “heavy portamento.” Later, under Mengelberg’s successor, Eduard van Beinum, the Concertgebouw Orchestra was “cleansed of the heavy portamento that

Mengelberg fostered.”98

Returning to the RAHO which performed on both Harrison-Elgar recordings, the portamento style of the string section is easily describable. A portamento slide seems to occur in the recordings every time some of the members of the orchestra shift to a different position on the fingerboard, and since the musicians frequently sight-read with several different fingerings in simultaneous use, the cumulative effect had the sound of very frequent shifting. For this orchestra, portamento seems to have been used not so much for expressive purposes, as for functional purposes, to help the members hear the pitch approaching. Used in this way, portamento is like a technical crutch with a utility value. Yet, not all portamento seems to be used this way.

Harrison’s 1919 recorded performance has a great deal less portamento than her 1928 recorded performance. Yet, in 1919 she had only been familiar with the work for

97 Robert Philip, Performing Music in the Age of Recording (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 75. 98 Ibid.. 92 about two months. Later, leading up to the 1928 recording, she had performed it several times with the composer. This suggests that Harrison’s added portamento in the 1928 recorded performance was likely chosen more with expressive intentions in mind than due to technical needs.

93 CONCLUSION

Elgar has left us with only a few written documents describing his performance- style preferences. He wrote that he liked his music performed “elastically” as opposed to

“squarely…like a wooden box,”99 although the extent and degree is not clear from other documentary sources. And witness accounts of his conducting ability conflict with one another, being less descriptive of him than they are revealing of the public’s opinion of him.

While Elgar wrote very little about performance style, he has preserved for us a large audio-recorded catalog of his own interpretations of his music. He conducted nearly all of his orchestral works in the recording studio, many of them twice; and each of his recordings reveal countless performance details that are not printed in the score. His two recorded performances of the Cello Concerto with solo cellist Beatrice Harrison are unique in that his collaboration with her lasted longer than with any other soloist of his cello or violin concertos, and longer than with any orchestral musician. For this reason, the Harrison-Elgar recorded performances of the Concerto (in 1919 and 1928) and Harrison’s corresponding markings in her personal copy of the solo cello score are valuable, since so many stylistic traits beyond the score were communicated by Elgar to Harrison, some of which are most certainly revealed in Harrison’s score markings.

In these recordings, Elgar and Harrison reveal themselves to be unpredictable and complex. The well worn phrase that Elgar’s hallmark is flexibility, is not always on the mark. In many cases Elgar and Harrison use extreme stability of tempo and rhythm as

99 Edward Elgar, Letter, 1 July 1903, in Jerrold N. Moore, Elgar and His Publishers: Letters of a Creative Life, vol. 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987) 454-455. 94 another contrasting element in their expression which also includes extreme flexibility of tempo and rhythm. This is clearly demonstrated in the 1928 recorded performance of Mov. I with its steady and reserved first thematic area which contrasts with the highly flexible and nuanced second thematic area. This is also clearly demonstrated in Mov. III with its generally steady tempo and rhythm in stark contrast with extreme acceleration of the molto stringendo section which is so uncommon today’s interpreters.

These recordings are also a product of their environment; a complex web of influences including, among other things, the limitations of the recording technology, the extremely limited rehearsal time of the Royal Albert Hall Orchestra, and the orchestra’s deputy system which allowed members to find substitutes for rehearsals. Yet in spite of the compromised result of the ensemble, these recorded performances share many stylistic similarities with the most world renowned recorded orchestras of the 1920s and, even more importantly, they reveal a surprisingly different world of style that lives beyond Elgar’s score.

95 Appendix A: List of Harrison’s Markings in Her Complete Copy

The following is a list of Harrison’s 4 below no hurry markings in her complete personal copy of 6 n.1 [p] crossed out and rewritten pp; the first edition print score, (London: n.1-2 circled Novello, 1919) catalog no. 14633, now kept 6-7 dreamy in the Royal College of Music Library, 7 after n.4 {comma} Harrison Sisters Trust Loan. 7-8 below keep up time but don’t hurry This list excludes fingerings, string last 3 words possibly added later indications, gliss./portamento, and bowings: 8 [ ] crossed out and Anything in [rectangular brackets] is rewritten at n.5-8; right margin try pre-existing print already in the score, on one string; n.1/3 circled including [italic words] and [{symbol 15-7 sing & serene; descriptions}]. below soft & sweet & sonore For all of Harrison’s markings: her 48 careful; n.2 circled verbal markings are in unbracketed italics, 51 n.3-6 expre and her non-verbal markings are described 52-3 n.3 - bar 53 n.1 piu p in {these brackets} unitalicized, for example 54 n.2-3 rit {hairpin} or {fermata}. 55 n.1-3 S… All editorial markings are in regular 63 n.6-11 not too much [poco string.]; unitalicized Times New Roman font. n.5 circled Notes are counted including tied 65 n.5-8 exp; n.3 circled below [rit.]; notes, for example n.2 may be tied to n.3, n.4-6 another rit below staff but excluding grace notes or accompaniment 65-6 n.9 - bar 66 n.4 piu p cues. In the case of chords at, say, n.3, the 69/70 n.2 circled top note is n.3a, then n.3b, and so on. In a 73 n.5-9 off few cases, the precise part of the bar will be 74 sing described as, say, 2nd quarter beat. 78 n.5-7 above and below tempo; n.5 Measure numbers are indicated as circled follows: 90 not too rall 93-8 = 93 to (through) 98 94 n.1 93/8 = 93 and 98 96 n.2 circled including too long

Mov. I Mov. II

very top front page LOVE 4/8 n.2-3 JOY – POWER KNOWLEDGE 5 n.4-8 , n.13-16 1 below don’t hurry; n.1 circled 6 n.2-3 2 n.1-5 equal probably the equal 12 n.4-12 quicker; n.13 [rall.] crossed time value of the eighth notes; out; n.23-24 longer and notes circled n.3/4 both circled; 14 n.2-3 big circle including notes and n.3-4 too short the contrasting first [ ] 2-3 not too quick 39 below rall by degrees 3 n.4 circled 41 n.1-4 molto above [largamente] 3-4 tone full 41-2 n.5 [a tempo] crossed out and 96 rewritten above n.4-whole bar 42 n.2 to bar 20 n.1 more cre; n.2 43-5 largamente; below that molto to bar 20 n.2 below keep up f 47 slower 20 no break; below that tempo; [dim.] 59-60 n.1-12 ; n.13 to circled whole bar 60 23 n.1 p 61-2 n.1 p; n.5-12 ; 24 [pp] circled; n.3-4 no rit n.13 to bar 62 2nd quarter beat 29 side margin to n.1 too matter of fact 78 [a tempo] crossed out 31-3 n.1 to bar 33 n.1 do not hurry 78-9 n.3 to bar 79 n.2 slow 31-2 n.3 to whole bar 32 below appas 78-81 n.4 to whole bar 81 double time; beside [appassionato] in bar 33 n.2-3 incomplete circle around 33-4 n.3 to bar 34 n.2 rush; above n.3 to notes below [larg.]; n.4-5 big circle whole bar 34 around notes including [a tempo] 34 n.2 circled 88/93/8whole bar ; 93 contrasting 34-5 n.2 to whole bar 35 climax 89/99 2nd half of bar 35 below ; n.3 circled 95 whole bar 37-8 n.3 to bar 38 n.2 too long referring 103 not much [sostenuto] to bar 38 n.1 [ten.] 116-7 2nd quarter beat to 40 n.3-4 mf whole bar 117 41 n.3 circled 118 whole bar 42 [ ] circled; n.3 to side margin too 119 before n.1 a tempo; n.1 pp slow 48-50 below tranquillo Mov. III 51 tone; n.3 p and above staff p; n.3 to margin 1-3 climax, below that in 1-2 swift 52 margin to n.1 climax; below [dim.] 1-2 n.1 - bar 2 n.1 over the too much existing [ ]; arrow pointing 54 below time up from [espressivo] to bar 2 n.1 2 n.1 circled; over the Mov. IV existing [ ] 3 too much, below that ten with arrow 14 n.12 > over existing [>]; n. 13-19 pointing from ten to bar 2 n.3 [ten.]; [{eighth rest}] circled 15 after n.4 {comma} 7 longer 16 [espress.] circled 9 serene; n.2 circled 18 n.4/16 [dim.] underlined 10 too long; n.2 circled 19 n.18 circled; below orchestra; 14 notes more even below that ff 15 no se…; below that accell 23-4 n.4 to bar 24 n.1 15-6 n.2 to bar 16 n.1 24 n.2 p 16 tempo; n.2-3 25 [cresc.] underlined 17-8 n.2 to bar 18 n.1 accell; n.3 to 56-7 too much bar18 n.1 75 n.1 mf; 18-9 n.2 to bar 19 n.1 tempo and 75-6 n.2 to bar 77 n.2 75-7 n.4 to bar 77 n.2 tempo up to A{flat}, 19-20 above n.2 to whole bar 20 ; referring to n.3 with a [ ] 97 141 n.1 circled; short 145 n.1 partially circled 187 n.1 circled; same in 189, 191, 193, a diminished 7th chord 190 more 239-43 n.8 to whole bar 240 poco cal then bar 241-3 - - - 244-6 poco – accell 247 [allargando] crossed out 247-8 n.4 to whole bar 248 tempo 250-1 whole bar 250 cal then bar 251 - - - 252-3 below poco a poco tempo 253 [poco rit.] crossed out 254 tempo 255 [a tempo] crossed out 270-1 n.4 to bar 271 n.3 piu … 273 [calando] circled 278 n.1 p 278-9 288 m added to [f] 295 [pp] circled 296-7 n.3 to whole bar 297 below live 297 n.4 circled 297-8 n.4 to bar 298 n.1 short 301 n.1 p ;n.3 circled 302-3 below appas 307/13 n.2-4 circled 306-8/16-8 n.3 tenuto line 320 short then crossed out; below that hurry; below that S… 322-4 n.2 tenuto line 328-9 [dim. e rit.] circled 329 …orchestra 331 long; n.1 and [ ] circled 333 n.1-4/6 circled

98 Appendix B: Approximate Tempos of Recordings

Table 3, Mov. I, Approximate tempos of recordings

Movement No., Novello Beatrice Beatrice Pablo Jacqueline Jacqueline Steven Pieter Rehearsal No., Score Harrison Harrison Casals du Pré du Pré Isserlis Wispelwey (Measure No.) 1919 1919 1928 1945 1965 1970 1988 1998 I (1/3/7) = 56 63,60,72 46/40/54 48/-40/40 60/56/-40 56/-40/-40 46/46/-40 50/42/-40 1 (9/13) ·= 66 69/63 56/54 56/60 56/54 54/54 58/58 56/58 2 (15) 69 60 52 50 54 56 58 3 (21) 69 58 54 54 54 58 58 4 (27) 69 58 54 50 50 60 58 5 (33) 72 63 58 52 60 58 58 6 (39) 69 58 54 52 52 58 58 7 (47) (cut47-54) 52 56 54 58 60 58 8 (55) 63 60 52 52 54 58 54 9 (59) 66 58 54 52 54 60 58 10 (63) (cut63 60 52 52 56 60 60 11 (67) -70) 58 54 52 56 56 58 12 (71) 66 63 56 52 60 56 60 13 (75) 66 58 56 54 52 58 58 14 (80) 66 63 58 52 52 50 58 15 (86) (cut86 60 56 52 56 56 58 16 (92/6) 63/56 56/52 52/50 54/50 58/56 58/56 17 (98) -103) 58 52 48 40 48 56

99 Table 4, Mov. II, Approximate tempos of recordings

Movement No., Novello Beatrice Beatrice Pablo Jacqueline Jacqueline Steven Pieter Rehearsal No., Score Harrison Harrison Casals du Pré du Pré Isserlis Wispelwey (Measure No.) 1919 1919 1928 1945 1965 1970 1988 1998 II 18 (1) “RECIT.” 69(cut3-8) 54 56 56 60 40 52 20 (16) = 160 168 160 144 176 184 168 168 21 (29) 168 168 152 176 184 168 168 22 (40/42) “a tempo” 92/168 63/160 126/138 96/168 92/176 126/160 96/160 23 (48) 168 160 152 168 176 168 168 24 (55) 160 160 160 172 176 168 168 26 (67) 168 176 152 176 176 176 160 27 (78/80) “a tempo” 96/160 69/168 126/152 96/168 92/176 138/168 96/168 28 (86) 160 168 160 168 168 168 168 29 (96) 168 168 160 172 168 176 160 30 (104) 160 152 160 168 168 176 160 31 (113) “piu mosso” 168 176 168 176 184 176 176 32 (120) 168 176 160 184 192 176 192

100 Table 5, Mov. III, Approximate tempos of recordings

Movement No., Novello Beatrice Beatrice Pablo Jacqueline Jacqueline Steven Pieter Rehearsal No., Score Harrison Harrison Casals du Pré du Pré Isserlis Wispelwey (Measure No.) 1919 1919 1928 1945 1965 1970 1988 1998 III 34 (1) = 50 50 46 48 42 -40 42 46 35 (8) 56 42 46 40 -40 40 46 36 (15/22) 58/52 58/48 52/44 40/40 40/-40 48/44 50/50 37 (29) 58 63 50 48 54 48 46 38 (33) “…string.” 100 116 66 66 58 66 60 39 (41) 50 46 44 -40 -40 42 40 40 (49) 52 50 63 42 40 44 48 41 (53) 50 -40 48 40 -40 40 46

101 Table 6, Mov. IV, Approximate tempos of recordings

Movement No., Novello Beatrice Beatrice Pablo Jacqueline Jacqueline Steven Pieter Rehearsal No., Score Harrison Harrison Casals du Pré du Pré Isserlis Wispelwey (Measure No.) 1919 1919 1928 1945 1965 1970 1988 1998 IV (1) = 120 (cut 1 126 120 112 126 116 120 42 (9) = 72 -19) 80 58 60 72 72 54 44 (20) = c.108 104 126 108 112 96 116 112 45 (28) 108 120 116 112 104 112 116 46 (38) 120(cut44 132 126 112 108 112 116 48 (64) 112 92 96 108 108 108 49 (73/6) 112/132 84/84 88/100 104/112 108/108 104/104 50 (84) 112 116 112 116 112 108 51 (100) 116 116 126 132 112 104 52 (112) 132 126 132 132 116 112 53 (126) 112 116 126 126 112 120 54 (137) 126 112 120 120 120 120 55 (149) 126 116 126 138 126 126 56 (159) 132 120 120 138 126 126 57 (167) 126 120 120 138 126 126 58 (183) 138 120 120 132 126 126 59 (197) 108 100 96 88 96 104 60 (205) 120 104 96 104 100 108 61 (217) -226) 132 120 100 108 112 116

102 Table 7, Mov. IV (Continued), Approximate tempos of recordings

Movement No., Novello Beatrice Beatrice Pablo Jacqueline Jacqueline Steven Pieter Rehearsal No., Score Harrison Harrison Casals du Pré du Pré Isserlis Wispelwey (Measure No.) 1919 1919 1928 1945 1965 1970 1988 1998 IV (continued) 63 (241) 104 100 108 92 92 108 108 64 (255) 116 132 112 108 120 112 116 65 (266) 112 100 108 104 116 104 116 66 (281) = 88 104 84 69 60 60 69 76 67 (288) (cut286n.4-92n.1) 88 69 52 60 66 72 68 (297/301) (cut297-301) 76/69 69/63 48/52 46/56 54/58 72/66 69 (305/6) 126/66 108/58 63/50 58/46 60/40 69/56 72/46 70 (314/7) 69/60 58/42 50/42 48/-40 40/-40 54/-40 50/42 71 (321/5) 60/50 46/44 40/42 -40/-40 -40/-40 40/-40 42/-40 72 (332) 66 46 48 63 69 40 50 73 (336) (cut336-43) 126 120 120 138 126 126 74 (348) 112 132 112 120 144 112 126

103 Bibliography

Books

Anderson, Robert. Elgar. London: J. M. Dent, 1993.

_____. Elgar in Manuscript. London: The British Library, 1990.

Campbell, Margaret. The Great Cellists. London: Golancz, 1988.

Chambers, H. A. ed., Edward Elgar Centenary Sketches. London: Novello, 1957.

Craggs, Stewart R. Edward Elgar: A Source Book. Brookfield, VT: Scolar Press, 1995.

Day, Timothy. A Century of Recorded Music: Listening to Musical History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2000.

Gray, Michael H. and Gerald D. Gibson. Bibliography of Discographies: Volume 1 , 1925-1975. New York: R. R. Bowker Company, 1977.

Harrison, Beatrice. The Cello and the Nightingales: The Autobiography of Beatrice Harrison. Edited by Patricia Cleveland-Peck. London: J. Murray, 1985.

Kennedy, Michael. Elgar Studies. Brookfield VT: Ashgate; Scolar, 1990.

_____. Portrait of Elgar. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987.

Kent, Christopher. Edward Elgar: A Guide to Research. New York: Garland Publishing Inc., 1993.

Monk, Raymond. ed. Elgar Studies. Brookfield, VT: Scolar, Gower Publishing Company, 1990.

Monk, Raymond. ed. Edward Elgar: Music and Literature. Brookfield, VT: Ashgate, Scolar, 1993.

Moore, Jerrold N. Edward Elgar: Letters of a Lifetime. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990.

_____. Edward Elgar: The Windflower Letters. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989.

_____. Elgar and His Publishers: Letters of a Creative Life vol. 1. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987.

_____. Elgar on Record: The Composer and the Gramophone. New York: Oxford University Press, 1974.

104 Musgrave, Michael and Bernard D. Sherman ed. Performing Brahms: Early Evidence of Performance Style. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003.

Philip, Robert. Performing Music in the Age of Recording. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004.

_____. Early Recordings and Musical Style: Changing Tastes in Instrumental Performance, 1900-1950. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1992.

Tertis, Lionel. My and I. A Complete Autobiography. With Beauty of Tone in String Playing and Other Essays. New York: Crescendo, 1975.

Stowell, Robin ed. The Cambridge Companion to the Cello. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999.

Articles

Anderson, Robert. “Elgar’s Musical Style,” The Musical Times 134, No. 1810 (Dec 1993) 689-92.

Anderson, W. R. (signed K.K.). Gramophone. (September 1929), 160.

Campbell, Margaret. “Harrison, Beatrice,” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, Vol. 11. Second edition, Edited by Stanley Sadie. New York: Grove’s Dictionaries Inc. 2001, 61.

Cleveland-Peck P. “The Lady of the Nightingales,” The Strad 103, No. 1232 (Dec 1992), 1174-8.

Fountain, K. “In a Garden: The Story of the Harrison Sisters,” The Delius Society Journal, No. 87 (Autumn 1985), 3-12.

Kennedy, Michael. “The Elgar Sound,” Music and Musicians, (Feb 1984), 8-10.

Philip, Robert. “The Recordings of Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Authenticity and Performance Practice.” Early Music 12, No. 4 (November 1984), 481-89.

Webber, J. Lloyd. “A Pioneering Spirit of her age,” The Strad 103, No. 1232 (Dec 1992), 1172.

105

Discography

Listed Chronologically by Soloist, Orchestra, and Conductor

Edward Elgar “Cello Concerto” Op. 85 (1919)

Harrison, Beatrice. “Symphony Orchestra” (another name for the Royal Albert Hall Orchestra), Elgar (rec. 1919, 1920), Pearl, GEM113, 33 r.p.m LP.

Harrison, Beatrice. New Symphony Orchestra (another name for the Royal Albert Hall Orchestra), Elgar (rec. 1928), Classica D’oro, 1054, Compact Disc; EMI, CDM 67298, Compact Disc.

Squire, William. Hallé Orchestra, Harty (rec. 1930), Pearl, 50, Compact Disc.

Casals, Pablo. BBC Symphony Orchestra, Boult (rec. 1945), EMI Great Recordings of the Century, 63498, Compact Disc; Classica D’oro, 4007, Compact Disc.

Navarra, André. Hallé Orchestra, Barbriolli (rec. 1957), Testament Special Imports, 1204, Compact Disc. du Pré, Jaqueline. London Symphony Orchestra, Barbriolli (rec. 1965), EMI Classics, 65955, Compact Disc. du Pré, Jacqueline. Philadelphia Orchestra, Barenboim (rec. 1970), CBS Masterworks, MK 76529, Compact Disc.

L. Webber, Julian. Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Menuhin (rec. 1985), Philips. 000213302, Compact Disc.

Isserlis, Steven. London Symphony Orchestra, Hickox (rec. 1988), , 5614902, Compact Disc.

Ma, Yo Yo. London Symphony Orchestra, Previn (rec. 1990), Cbs Masterworks, 39541, Compact Disc.

Wispelwey, Pieter. Netherlands Radio Philhamonic, Steen (rec. 1999), Channel Classics, CCS 12998, Compact Disc.

106 Vita

Andrew Stephen Luchkow was born in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada on April 22, 1978, the son of Leona Beryl Fry and Marshall Luchkow. After completing his work at Paul Kane High School, St. Albert, Alberta in 1996, he entered The University of Toronto in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, and received the degree of Bachelor of Music in May 2001. In August 2001 he entered the Graduate School of The University of Texas at Austin and received the degree of Master of Music in May 2003. In August 2003 he once again entered the Graduate School of The University of Texas at Austin.

Permanent address: 25 Anita Crescent, St. Albert, Alberta, Canada. This dissertation was typed by the author.

107