Lammermuir Festival: Roderick Williams and the Maxwell Quartet

Dirleton Kirk - 17/09/23

Elgar, Piano Quintet, Op 84

Vaughan Williams, Five Folksongs, Five Mystical Songs

Through the crowd of people filing into their seats in this tidy church, I spot a flash of white from the vestry door: Roderick William’s starry smile as he chats to James Waters, the festival director.

I feel a connection to both of today’s composers. Elgar lived in the Malvern Hills which I could see in the distance from my childhood home in the Cotswolds. He was surely Britain’s greatest composer since those other Catholics, Tallis, Byrd and Dowland. And Vaughan Williams – at school I lied about my poor singing test results to get into the 'supplementary chorus‘for our production of his ‘Poisoned Kiss‘. Thus I was there at the side of the stage adding my off-key peepings, when the composer, bent with age, came to witness his work. 

Elgar’s quintet opens with a few bars of exploratory sounds, then takes wing into a reassuring playful melody, as far away from enigma or pomp as you can imagine. The sound is very evenly balanced between the musicians, who often play in unison. No one instrument dominates. The first movement ends with a single joint pizzicato – a happy full stop. 

Movement 2 has more complex interactions in a mood hard to define; long low sostenuti lend an air of dignity. The players, youngish men in dark gray suits with tan shoes (What would Elgar’s audience have said?) make little eye contact with each other, coordinating through the music itself.

Movement 3 suggests joie de vivre; hardships, if any, have been lightly overcome. Now there is more exchange, dialogue of echo and contrast between piano and strings. Concluding, a white-water race, a Cresta Run, a celebration. Glancing at my programme, I’m amazed that this was written in 1918, just after the horrors of World War and when Elgar’s private life was far from shining.

Vaughan Williams collected hundreds of folk songs and arranged them for piano. During lockdown Roderick himself took five of his favourites and arranged them for the quintet here – not only a celebrated baritone, he’s also an established composer. Themes are mostly merry: thieves enjoying their escape from prison, maidens angling for wealthy husbands, a jolly tailor fallen down a well and rescued in the bucket. Roderick brings a rich variety of tone, and accents, to the feast, clearly enjoying himself. I’m struck that baritone plus quintet is an unusual alliance; the strings especially bring moments of exquisite delicacy to enrich the fun.

The ‘Mystical Songs’ offer a total contrast to both the earlier pieces. This is serious religion, but the texts are by the metaphysical poet George Herbert, so there is playfulness, ambiguity, even occasional banality (‘Sing his praise without delays’). At first, as a non-believer, I find it hard to respond fully - Vaughan Williams himself was agnostic. But as Roderick brings the full power of his voice to bear, my scepticism dissolves. This concert contained an astonishing variety of musical flavours, given that all came from England in one half century. The last song, with Roderick glorifying, again and again, ‘My God and King’, brings this afternoon’s rich event to an almost overwhelming boil.

As we leave, I congratulate James on the afternoon’s programming. “Not me,” he says, “it’s entirely down to the pianist here, Christopher Glynn.” I turn to Christopher and congratulate him even more warmly.

Cover photo: Robin Mitchell