compromise, conflation and contextualism in english music(ology)

For much of this century within English (and, by often dubious extension,British) academe, musicologists of whatever cultural bent have tended to plytheir trades according to oddly discrete, non-overlapping strategies of studyand discourse. This curiously extreme form of epistemological apartheid, whileby no means unique to the native tradition, has persisted long after many othersubject fields within both the humanities and the sciences have embracedinterdisciplinary interpretation with open minds. Indeed, Nattiez's widely-disseminated semiological tripartition notwithstanding, the division ofintellectual labour still most typically operative is that represented by thecurrent mainstays of home-based musicological publishing, namely, the `Life-and-Works' monograph and the `Handbook'.

Throughout its venerable existence, the former genre has been envisaged asa portmanteau attempt to engage in biographical, historical and (to a lesserextent) technical exploration of the elements that comprise the semioticpackage represented by the phrase, `the great composer' ± of which there are somany famous examples that it is invidious to single out a handful for inclusionhere.1 Studies of this kind have a distinguished English-language history thatstretches back at least to Edward Dent's pioneering text on Busoni (1933), andhave often been aimed at a readership of both enthusiastic amateurs andprofessional scholars. By comparison, the handbook has come to epitomise amore or less opposing kind of credo. Like the monograph, it is catholic inethos, but tends rather more to focus on the technical detail exemplified by aspecific work or group of works by one composer.2 As a consequence, thehandbook's more rigorously textual and, by implication, esoteric approach,indicates that it is targeted primarily at the academic community, rather thanthe general public.

Despite the imaginative possibilities inherent within both types, there have,to date, been few genuine syntheses, a fact which may explain a third, morerecent tendency in British musicological publishing ± that of the `Book ofStudies'. As their titles would indicate, these symposia aim to bridge thephilosophical gap between monographs and handbooks by illustrating a rangeof approaches germane to a particular composer (and perhaps with an elementof the non-English tradition of the Festschrift thrown in). Consequently life,

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COMPROMISE, CONFLATION AND CONTEXTUALISM IN ENGLISH

MUSIC(OLOGY)

reception history and socio-cultural contexts are tackled alongside specificpieces, and all frequently in a way that transcends the scope accorded to theirsupposedly more inclusive companion texts.

If much of the above seems rather too obvious to habitual readers of thisjournal, it is worth stressing that no mention of a common subject for suchcollections beyond that of `the composer', nor of a common interpretativeàngle' has been made; thus my point is to emphasise the absence of anyguarantee that the various articles in such a volume will necessarily exhibitshared opinion towards some particular aspect of a composer's life or work.Again rather obviously, a primary task of the editor of any such collectionshould be to try to seek out connections between subject matter andapproach, such that the various themes of the book might be shown to feedinto wider debates. This is not to suggest that discontinuities between onechapter and the next are necessarily to be avoided; merely that, whether byserendipity or design, any resultant `network of narratives', as David Clarkedescribes the prevailing pattern to be found in Tippett Studies (p. x), mighteven now result in a whole that amounts to something more than the sum ofits parts. Gratifyingly, the editors of both books under review here (Clarkeand Alain Frogley) have, in almost opposite ways, succeeded in assemblingcoherent, yet thoroughly probing catalogues of the current state of researchsurrounding two prominent English composers.3 Moreover, as I will attemptin part to demonstrate, there is much of a reflexive nature ± and not just for anative readership ± to be learned from the fact that Clarke's volumerepresents an analytical tradition increasingly concerned to expresscontextual relevance, whereas Frogley's exemplifies an historical heritagestriving to embrace analytical rigour.

That much said, the fact that both are collections of articles on Englishcomposers, written largely, though by no means exclusively, by Englishscholars (and which, for that matter, were issued within three years of oneanother by an English publisher), certainly affords ample scope for reflectionon the supposed specificities of national character. Above all, there is thequestion of what the notion of Ènglishness' has meant for two composerseffectively mythologised into opposite corners of Albion's pantheon. Thus inthe one (and doubtless to the right) sits Ralph Vaughan Williams: either arch-English patriot, or dean of the `cowpat school', dependent on viewpoint.Opposite him is Tippett: innovative modernist to his supporters, but `clever'conscientious objector to those who would affect longer memories. In truth,the fact that Tippett died just before publication of Clarke's book alters theperspective of not just one, but both volumes, thereby offering, to adaptClarke's words, à kind of closure ± [and hence a new] . . . historical vantagepoint' (p. xiv). This review, therefore, will concentrate primarily on the waysin which both volumes deal with the rapprochement between dialectical notions

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of tradition and progressiveness, directness and abstraction, folksong- andcontinental-influenced composition that lies at the heart of the complex, oftencontradictory senses of Ènglishness' ascribed to these seemingly antitheticalfigures.

*

According to Clarke's preface to Tippett Studies, the volume's contributors canbe classified by the ways in which they tap into one or more of the book'sprincipal themes. Broadly speaking, these are, first of all, the ways in which thecomposer's biography impinges upon textual inquiry into his music; second,`Tippett's relationship to the musical past' (p. x); third, transcendentalism ±both within the music and without; and finally, the individual, personalisednature of the composer's reception history. Of these themes, the first is realisedin the course of sometimes contextual, sometimes more immanent exploration± the latter in spite of the music's resistance to technical inquiry, as Clarkeindicates: òne sometimes wonders whether Tippett through his quasi-intuitivecreative temperament did not inoculate himself against music analysis' (p. x).And of the various immanent approaches on display, Fortean pitch-class settheory is held to be justifiably employed by several contributors (includingArnold Whittall, Anthony Pople and Clarke himself), because Tippett's music,èven at its atonal extremes, retains vestiges of its earlier tonal character, andeven at its most tonal contains organisational features that prefigure its laterpost-tonal attributes' (p. xi).

By contrast, the second topic is taken more strongly to imply thereflexivity and intertextuality of metaphor. Thus Kenneth Gloag exploresTippett's neo-classicism in the Second Symphony according to what Clarkecalls a `double play of defamiliarisation' (p. xi) of the past refracted boththrough Stravinsky, and through Tippett himself. Christopher Mark andAlastair Borthwick by turns discuss sequential transpositional patterns andtonal voice-leading within a non-tonal framework as evidence of Tippett'sironic (or at least referential) nod in the direction of historically distantcommon-practice harmony. Similarly, Peter Wright investigates Tippett'sreturn to Beethovenian counterpoint in the Fifth String Quartet, though thisis couched more as an apologia against a polemical reading of Tippett's laterwork from Derrick Puffett (Puffett 1995) than as an examination ofmetaphor.

While equally resonant, the collection's third subject of inquiry ±transcendentalism ± is somewhat harder to pin down. For his part, StephenCollisson chooses to explore Tippett's transcendence of his own stylistic past inthe Triple Concerto. Conversely, Rowena Pollard and David Clarke together

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elect to examine the composer's textual transcendence of Greek myth througha series of aesthetic mediations, from Aristotle and Racine through to theFrench critic, Lucien Goldmann. The final theme, personal reception history,is mainly dealt with in the penultimate chapter, a personal memoir by WilfridMellers, which Clarke accords the status of a significant historical documentdue not only to Mellers's personal relationship with Tippett, but also hisembodiment of a link to earlier scholarship in a previous symposium edited byIan Kemp (Kemp 1965).

Taking up the second of these topics as a point of substantive textualdeparture, Clarke's own essay, ` `Ònly Half Rebelling'': Tonal Strategies,Folksong and `Ènglishness'' in Tippett's Concerto for Double StringOrchestra', adopts Stephen Banfield's commentary on the Double Concerto(Banfield 1995) as a guide by which to explore the extent of Tippett'sreconciliation of two discrete phenomena ± Austro-German tonality andEnglishness through folksong. Altogether, he gives a detailed history ofTippett's generally ambivalent, occasionally turbulent relationship with thepastoral ethos as developed during his associations with Vaughan Williams,Holst, Francesca Allinson and Jeffrey Mark (two student friends from theRoyal College of Music engaged in folk music research), and Cecil Sharp. Byparing away some received wisdoms, Clarke is able to expose an intriguingparadox. On the one hand, Tippett chose to describe Vaughan Williams andhis school as the disturbing epitome of the ànti-intellectualism' he hadencountered both within the Royal College of Music and in wider Britishmusical life. Yet on the other, he was also clearly àttuned to the culturalvibrancy' of the period as an acknowledged `Second English MusicalRenaissance' (pp. 4±5).

Key to Clarke's argument is a 1941 letter to Allinson, in which Tippettwrites:

It is not the `country', as such, that we define against the `town'. It is the

nostalgic, vague hovering with the excellent quality of folk-expressiveness, as

opposed to the consciously artistic articulation of it. Sharp was probably stymied

before it. It got him on his weak, undeveloped side ± so he either toned it up

with jokey fortes, or tried to present it under the guise of the irrational peasant.

We show, if we can, that in an articulated mastered form, it is just good, English

& highly presentable, differing in no necessary inferiority, or superiority, from

the gay stuff. What we refuse is inchoate subjectiveness (except as folklore) &

Sharp's subterfuges & lack of integrity, let alone maturity. (pp. 9±10)

At the time of the Double Concerto, therefore, while Tippett could plainlyempathise with the use of English folk-music as a compositional resource, itwas the patronising modes of its employment by others which he could notcountenance. Achieving àn articulated mastered form' thus required anappropriately contemporary insight into matters of technique. Hence Clarke


260 CHRIS KENNETT

is drawn to investigate what he calls two `tonal constellations' operating in theDouble Concerto ± A±E±D and C±G±F ± which together create a distinctivecounterpole to `the concept of unity inherent in classical tonality' (p. 14).Linked to this matrix is the role of pentachord 5±35 as a possible `source set'mediating between the two constellations (and hence between the first andsecond thematic groups of the first movement). In truth, one could point outthat the superset comprising Clarke's harmonic forcefields, 6±32, contains twopossible orderings of 5±35: ([0,2,4,7,9] and [5,7,9,0,2]); however, thisconnection is not spelled out. Instead, there follows reference to whatAllinson called the `Gaelic sequence', as well as some discussion of AnnieGilchrist's 1911 article dealing with Scottish folk melodies. The fact that bothidentified a kind of pentatonic prototype (equivalent to 5±35) as forming thebasis for English folksong is thus indicative of a converging lexicon which thecomposer may indeed have found suggestive. Nonetheless, Clarke admits thatthere is no direct evidence to support such a conscious link between Tippettand the folk-song research of his acquaintances and friends, preferring insteadto affirm the presence of pitch-class specific pentachords as units of structuralmediation.

As it stands, Clarke's sense of a falling between two musical (national?)stools makes a neat summary of the concerns common to both his and Frogley'svolumes:

Tippett's moment of maturity as a composer ± which is also the moment in

which he finds his authentic identity ± arrives when he is able to re-articulate his

Englishness (an Englishness no more or less bourgeois than modernism itself)

through the galvanising forces of Austro-German musical thought processes,

while making the Germanic his own through the critical distance afforded by

being English. Here, then, we have not so much a half-rebellion as an extremely

fruitful double one. (pp. 25±6)

Nevertheless, if they are not merely to elide with the formulation of such broad(albeit instructive) cultural assertions, his analytical findings, as with many ofthe investigations involving pc set nomenclature in each collection, seem to mecry out for some kind of set-generic extension.4 Indeed, in several instances, itis not always clear why certain harmonic configurations should have beendescribed in Fortean notation, other than as a kind of musicological Pitman.After all, in Tippett's case, we are quite often dealing with collections whichhave tonal antecedents (5±35 as the `pentatonic collection', 7±35 as the`diatonic', and so on), or which are being used in a tonal way (albeit frequentlyto contrast with other, less tonal species, or to imply some extra-musical,`transcendental' intertext). Hence if, for example, Clarke himself had taken theopportunity to examine the generic profile of sections of the Double Concertofor evidence of Forte's diatonic genus, G11, then a more complete immanent



corroboration of the circumstantial influences he cites might have becomepossible (not least because of 5±35's distinctive place in the constitution of G11alongside that of G12).

In a similar vein to Clarke, Anthony Pople's essay explores the influence ofTippett's erstwhile counterpoint teacher, R.O. Morris, on the development ofharmonic species in the Fantasia Concertante on a Theme of Corelli. To mymind, there is a clearer rationale for the employment of pc set nomenclaturehere as one way of tracking a range of partially-overlapping, though by nomeans identical, systematic aggregations of pitch material. These aggregationsare variously predicated by Pople on set-classes (that is, unordered,emancipated pitch-resources whose prime form members are ordered in anascending pattern from C as pc 0 for little more than the sake of normativeconvenience and ease of comparison); scales (ordered, linearly ascendingcollections with a strong sense of the relative stability and instability of theirconstitutive pitches); and church modes (unordered, linearly ascendingcollections which exhibit implications of relative stability and instabilitywithin the collection, but whose overall stability is affected by their essentiallyrandom nature). During the analysis it becomes clear that, for Pople, thepurpose of Fortean pc sets here is to act as a kind of epistemological bridgebetween the two other systems under investigation. This rapprochement couldbe designated as a kind of contextually conditioned formula thus:

Scales (ordered, hierarchic) + Modes (unordered, egalitarian) = pitch-class

sets (unordered, hierarchic)

To summarise Pople's initial thesis, then, by virtue of additional voice-leadingreduction, the Corelli theme itself is thought to emphasise the middlegroundcentricity of particular pcs ([0] and [10]). At higher levels these are read asrecombining to form larger aggregates notably 8±23, 9±7, 10±5 and 11±1 as ic5related supersets of the diatonic collection ± which consequently determine thesurrounding harmonic material from within a generalised, circle-of-fifthsfield.5 Significantly, Pople uses specific spellings of each set-class to confirm itsic5 links with 7±35 (for example, 7±35 (t=0) + 7±35 (t=7) = 8±23). Further-more, comparable techniques of reduction and recombination are also used toexplore 9±7 as the parent set of seemingly less well-defined passages, includingthe later `free variations' of the theme.

Throughout the article, consistent comparisons are drawn between aspectsof Morris's teaching as evinced by the former's published writings, and hispupil's practice as exemplified by the Fantasia. Formally speaking, Popleargues, Morris might be viewed as an exemplary tutor in respect of rhythm,phrasing and the combination of smaller units into extended formal sections.Less commendable, though, was either his apparent inability or unwillingnessto anticipate a more uniquely Tippettish system of dissonant growth from tonal


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resources. For critical support, Pople cites David Matthews's suggestion that`Corelli's theme begins the piece and the ensuing variations gradually move overfrom Corelli's world into Tippett's' (p. 30, Pople's emphasis). And in developingthe case contra Morris, he acknowledges the need to look in more detail at theformulae by which the transforming pitch resources are marshalled as much asthose which are operative in the metric domain. As with Clarke's approach,however, it is disappointing that the opportunity to investigate these formulaemore thoroughly is substantially missed. Since Pople is clearly discussing thechanges from one harmonic species into another, Fortean generic theory wouldseem a uniquely appropriate ± and uniquely quantifiable ± adjunct to theprocess of transformation which the author otherwise cogently reveals. All thesame, this lacuna aside, Pople's use of pc set theory is probably the mostsophisticated in Tippett Studies, and certainly bypasses the tendency of some ofhis co-contributors to use Fortean nomenclature as seemingly chic shorthandfor describing `motive x'.

A neat double entendre lies behind ` `Ìs there a choice at all?'' King Priamand Motives for Analysis', the title of Arnold Whittall's exploration ofmusico-dramatic links in Tippett's second opera. The intentional punningon the word `motives' underlines the wider connections he perceives betweenPriam's lot and that of the analyst ± not so much in the inevitability of abloody death at the hands of a former student, but rather in theinescapability of analytical results stemming from seemingly innocentdecisions made early on in the course of inquiry. His starting-point isTippett's own comment on Priam, to the effect that `the tragedy flows fromone . . . choice, honourably made': Priam's original decision to have Pariskilled (p. 55). Whittall is especially interested in the disparity between such acausally compelling idea and the syntactic discontinuities of a music that, byTippett's own admission, exploits the `deliberate abruptness of transitions'.Like Pople, Whittall makes his rationale for the use of set theory explicit:Àlthough [the local context] . . . might seem to suggest that the opera'smusic has stronger connections with traditional tonal harmony than withpost-tonal alternatives, the wider context indicates otherwise' (pp. 58±9).From this platform, he then proceeds to investigate two tetrachords, 4±12and 4±27, and three subsets ± 3±3, 3±8 and 3±11 (all arising from a reading ofthe elective tragedy of Priam's phrase, Ì choose for you') ± as musicalsignifiers for the various key moments of choice within the opera.Furthermore, the developing logic of association subsequently prompts the`provocatively reductive' assertion that specific interval classes ± the ic6 ofcollections 3±6 and 4±12, and the ic5 of sets 3±11 and 4±27 in particular ±have fixed musico-dramatic meanings, reflecting `war, death and doubt' onthe one hand, and `love, beauty and hope' on the other (p. 60). At the sametime, Whittall acknowledges the fact that `tensions between the



``background'' of the hypothesis and the actual musical ``foreground'' are aslikely to occur as instances of neat conformity' (p. 60), especially with aspurportedly anti-systematic a composer as Tippett. Hence by the author'sown admission, equally plausible alternatives to this thesis might readily beenvisaged.

Whittall also seeks to trace additional generative processes within the drama,including the stream of mutations which leads from tetrachord 4±13 to set-class4±Z29 in Paris's monologue by means of common subsets such as 3±5.However, this strategy too is plotted against a reflexive appreciation of thetensions that exist between analytical free will and determinism. As he goes onto observe:

The more all-thematic a work, the more pointless it might appear to attempt to

ground a decision of that work's thematicism in the presence, or absence,

emphasis or otherwise, of a pair of intervals. My hypothesis of the

complementary interaction of elements involving tritones and perfect fourths

or fifths is a device whose function it is to trigger a narrative in which the

embedding of those elements in an immense variety of ever-changing contexts is

acknowledged ± a narrative which may not be literally inconceivable but which

would grow rapidly to immense, unmanageable proportions. Without some

such trigger, no substantial technical narrative that engages the post-tonal

dimension of King Priam is possible. I am therefore suggesting that in order to

`behave satisfactorily' in present society, the analyst must choose. (p. 74, my

emphasis)

The sense of analytical inquiry as a series of unending either/or preferences ismade particularly striking here. Even so, I wonder whether some degree ofresolution might not have been possible in this case ± say through the invocationof basic interval patterns, interval successions, or even some further explorationof the generative growth of sets via the additional input of particular interval-classes (for example, many of the connections that Whittall cites for Paris'smonologue could just as easily have been attributed to the presence of ic1 settypes as to the appearance of trichord 3±5). That said, Whittall's reading is a fineexample of the benefits of exploring deep connections, some of which transcend(to recall the volume's third main theme) immanent concerns through thedeployment of analysis as a kind of personal epistemology.

In his article on the Second Symphony, Kenneth Gloag deals with thesimilarities and differences between Tippett's embrace of neo-classicism andthat of Stravinsky. Gloag's central thesis ± that Tippett `repeats Stravinskianelements while at the same time constructing a sense of ``critical distance''(defamiliarisation) from the inherited model', (p. 85) ± is an intriguing idea toexplore, tapping simultaneously, as it does, into several of this collection'sguiding concerns. None the less, I sense that it might have been advantageousto ground any such argument more firmly in a mixture of analytical and critical


264 CHRIS KENNETT

work, than simply tending to trust the unimpeachability of so many reportedsources (including some of Tippett's own more unhelpful `horse's mouth'comments). To be fair, several of the links between Stravinsky and Tippett areconvincingly made, not least the (readily audible) suggestion that bothcomposers have a similar approach to tonal polarity and cadence. Nevertheless,this assertion would surely have been better served by the inclusion of moreexamples (altogether there are a total of only two from the Second Symphonyand three from different works by Stravinsky).

Christopher Mark, too, deals with the relationship of Tippett's mature post-tonal language to traditional sources. More so than Gloag, he attempts toestablish what he calls the ìconic-metaphorical' value of tonally-deriveddevices (p. 111). Thus, in Mark's words, it makes better sense on Tippett'sbehalf

to speak . . . of a number of tonal musics whose non-relatedness is an aspect of

[a] mosaic form. These musics have a metaphorical function: they relate not to

each other, but to external referents [from Tippett and elsewhere]. (p. 113)

In consequence, the mapping of iconic-metaphorical associations is seen asyielding deeper, more significant and more defensible analytical results than anapproach which concentrates on pitch, or any other single intratextualparameter, particularly for the composer's output post-Priam. What isparticularly important to note from Mark's conclusions, though, is just howlimited high canonic inquiry in this field has been compared with the analysisof popular music. For instance, the kind of methodology developed by ascholar such as Philip Tagg has much to offer, encompassing as it does a mix ofintersubjectively-tested semiotics and phenomenology in order to map thesorts of intertextual or homological references to other codes listeners mightperceive when experiencing music. Tagg's semiotic typology concentrates inparticular on what he calls ànaphones' ± analogies in sound with `paramusical'sounds or concepts ± and `genre synecdoche', which he describes as `pars prototo reference from inside one musical style to element(s) of another, ``foreign''musical style, hence to the genre of which the second style is part, hence to thecomplete cultural context of that style.' (Tagg 1992, p. 371) Clearly, in musicas òntologically thick' as popular musics tend to be,6 the need for aninterpretative approach which transcends the textual in order to explore theconnotative, associative worlds of production and dissemination is all but self-evident. But in Mark's investigation of harmonic species as metaphor (as wellas the article on the Third Piano Sonata by Alastair Borthwick which followsit), the potential for tracking such conditions across the boundaries establishedby a supposedly hermetic musical modernism is made abundantly clear.

For his part, Borthwick again employs a semiotically-influenced approach,yet based, in this case, on a `metatheory' akin to the range of analytical



interpretations afforded by the `neutral level' of Nattiez's tripartition. Theconstitutive èlements' Borthwick proceeds to isolate are taken to establish avital `link between Tippett's archetypes at the level of instrumental forms, andtheir unfolding as musical scores' (p. 123). In other words, such characteristicfeatures are understood as representing the means by which Tippett was ableto transform multiple archetypes (for instance, common-practice tonality, orBachian counterpoint) his own independently recognisable works. As a result,two distinctive aspects of Tippett's style ± what Borthwick calls `proximityrelations' (concerned with the spatial or temporal proximity of notes), andìdentity relations' (effectively the perceived degree of similarity or differencebetween components) ± are examined in detail in the context of the ThirdPiano Sonata. Specific proximity relations under consideration include theregistral convergence bridging the silence between the first and secondthematic groups of the first movement, and larger, generic points ofarticulation such as the silence which separates the first and second movementsas distinct formal units. Here, the main point for Borthwick is that suchcorrelations `can be understood as a substitute for tonally directed motion,since [, for example,] convergence carries with it the possibility of continua-tion' (p. 124). Identity relations, on the other hand, form a more familiar typeof continuum between straightforward repetition and seemingly outrightcontrast so as to facilitate definable relationships between the form and contentof the piece.

So far, so good. However, among the discovery procedures Borthwickadopts for the isolation of tonal elements is a hierarchical approach based onvoice-leading relationships ± plainly something of a post-Schenkeriancompromise, since as he is obliged to accept, ìt is the absence of even animplied harmonic component to the voice-leading figures of Tippett's sonatathat complicates the task of identifying the precise types of linear elementspresent' (pp. 129±30). Nevertheless, the author feels justified in reducing outàppoggiaturas', èÂ chappeÂ es' and other `tonal elements' which àppear to serve asyntactical function in relation to the formal divisions of the movement'.Indeed, he goes on to describe these as `poietic entities because theirsignificance within a score depends on comparisons with historical precedents'± clearly a very relevant factor (as Borthwick suggests) `for a composer whoreturned to the study of counterpoint with R.O.Morris in his mid-twenties'(p. 129).

Borthwick further admits that ìf the distribution of tonal elements in PianoSonata No. 3 had been random then the study would have been futile'. But, henotes, each of the three movements àppears to use these elements in quitedistinctive ways' (p. 135). That said, his attempt at validation seems a little oddin light of his earlier concession over the degree of harmonic flux. Indeed,Borthwick effectively acknowledges this problem by offering alternative


266 CHRIS KENNETT

readings of the opening four notes ± e3±f]3±d3±g2 ± such that while Ian Kemp'sinterpretation of the passage as a kind of B major might be endorsed (Kemp1984, p. 459), the impression of E acting as focal tone is also valid. All thesame, without èven an implied harmonic component' there to qualify thevoice-leading, an almost infinite number of possibilities could be felt to takeprecedence.7 Hence, while the author's guiding precept (p. 140) that theSonata evinces a `diffracted form of Tippett's earlier neoclassicism' seemsaltogether plausible (as well as being clearly borne out by much of theargument that fills the whole of the Studies book), difficulties inevitably ariseonce the procedure for designating hierarchical significance is predicated onsome Ur-harmony for which there is simply no firm evidence.

Not all of the contributions to Tippett Studies are concerned to presenttechnical close readings in their pursuit of the composer's creative identity. Infact, to my mind, one of the most affecting is Peter Wright's allusive andpersonal apologia for the Fifth Quartet. In a wider sense, Wright's essay mightseem to form an imperfect fit with the majority of chapters in the volume, giventhat its rationale is to defend the quality of the composer's late work. None theless, a traditional motivic approach is distinguished by its sensitive application.Moreover, it enables Wright to mount a cohesive argument in favour of thequartet as marking some kind of return to Tippett's earlier obsession withBeethovenian counterpoint and lyricism. A similar degree of empathy for theachievements of Tippett's later years is also apparent in Stephen Collisson'sessay on the Triple Concerto. Beginning with the structural similarities thatexist between this score and those of the Fourth Symphony and FourthQuartet, Collisson follows Kemp in identifying the presence of a `cyclicarchetype' behind each work (p. 148). Effectively this supposition hinges onthe function of recapitulation: not merely in the guise of formal recall, butrather as a dramatic gesture signifying àn image of comprehensiveness'(p.148), albeit one wherein the original material has metamorphosed intosomething new.

In part, Collisson's analytical findings are somewhat blunted by thetemptation to try and fuse orthodox motivic descriptions with set-theoreticvocabulary. Thus `motive x', èxtracted from the initial cadenzas', isredundantly described as 3±4, particularly in view of the fact that the author'sstronger claim is to show how the overall tonal structure (passing initially fromB[ to A to F) is derived from this figure. However, his intention is not to try toexplain the imperfect unity existing between the sections by immanent analysisalone, but rather to show how intertextual resources proved critical in fulfillingthe composer's transcendentalist urges. Most notably it is the interpolationinto the Concerto of a modified passage from the Fourth Quartet ± one whichTippett himself had referred to as àn overwhelming vision of lyricism andelegance' (Bowen 1995, p. 101) ± that Collison regards as both formally and



rhetorically decisive. One might add, of course, that part of any quotation'sability to `evoke the numinous' power of radiant other-worldliness (p. 162) isdue to the meaning assimilated from knowledge of the Tippett intertext. Yet toreturn to Collison's argument, much of this associative power is also thought tocome from a wider competence in decoding certain instrumental, registral andharmonic combinations as `being' somehow transcendental. In this way, thefirst interlude, beyond its immanent motivic and structural significance,`immediately opens the door to a fantasy world and, through the agency of themotivic processes, sets about paving the way to its centre' (p. 162). Thus thecentral, unequivocally tonal (F major) section, is able to conjoin with furtherTippett intertexts (the limpidly spiritual A Child of Our Time, for instance),modernist intertexts (antithetically by association with the earlier, moreharmonically and motivically complex sections of the Concerto) and tonalintertexts pure and simple in the course of depicting a constellation of`specifically visionary moments' (p. 165).

Finally, a more analytical treatment of the transcendental topos is presentedin the essay by Rowena Pollard and David Clarke. Indeed, theirs isundoubtedly the most densely textual (and most consistently Fortean)8 readingof all the essays in Tippett Studies. The primary focus is once again the musicof Priam: in particular that which relates to Priam as tragic visionary in thefinal scene of the opera. As the authors indicate, the material whichaccompanies those scenes dealing with Priam's strength largely consists of aseries of members of the Kh complex about the primary nexus set, 6±32. Thefew remaining collections are more closely connected to 6±33 as a secondarynexus. Both hexachords are subsets of 7±35, the diatonic collection. However,6±33 is deemed `less stable' (p. 176) because of the presence of a tritone, anintervallic feature that is amplified as Priam's political position deterioratesfrom benign sovereignty into violent combat. Like Tippett, Pollard and Clarkeadopt Goldman's critical vocabulary by referring to the music governed by the6±33 nexus as emblematising the `tragic universe'. Furthermore, they extendtheir view of the resources involved by identifying a `generative complex'(p. 180) of what are, in effect, strongly represented K* inclusion relationshipsassociated with the two heptadal subsets of 8±26 (7±25 and 7±32). The authorsconcede that this complex does not itself signify the emergence of a visionarystate in Priam in the final scene. However, the process by which smallerharmonic fragments previously aligned with 6±32 and/or 6±33 suddenlybecome subsumed into these larger sets throughout the closing passage of theopera is thought to be decisive in resisting an otherwise overwhelming`teleological momentum' (p. 184). In other words, an uplifting sense of therealisation that Priam has achieved an altered state at the altar, glimpsinganother world now the inevitable course of his original choice has run, isengendered by the fact that the `recapitulatory wave' (p. 184) which seemingly


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dictates the musical flow is ultimately dispersed by the harmonic currents thatoriginally brought it into being. Even if some application of genera theorymight once again appear germane in this instance (particularly for theelucidation of the set structure surrounding 8±26), the authors provide a highlycompelling reading. As noted above, Tippett Studies is not always distin-guished by the extent to which ramified methodologies are used to clear andconvincing ends. None the less, in my own view, the collection contains muchthat advances our understanding of a generation of Englishness only recentlysurrendered to memory.

*

As with Clarke's symposium, the range of contributions to Alain Frogley'sVaughan Williams Studies indicates some serendipity in its synergy of widerthemes. Overall, there is a strong picture of Vaughan Williams as a figureembodying a series of paradoxes, a figure whose lack of resolution led (and stillleads) to the creation of myths ± about structure, about nationalism, and soforth. Consequently Frogley is moved to suggest that the benefits of the newmusicology have been especially marked in Vaughan Williams's case,encouraging far less prejudiced, if not also less certain readings of his creativeachievement. Indeed, the editor's two principal rationales for compiling thebook can be summarised as, first, a need to analyse and deconstruct the wholeissue of `nationalism' as it relates to Vaughan Williams; and, second, a wish toredress the slights against his presumed technical deficiencies by dint ofextensive `intra-musical' analysis (p. xv). This much said (and with the openlytechnical preoccupation of Tippett Studies still in mind), I sense nonetheless acertain amount of hobby-horsemanship involved in the volume, with some ofthe contributors almost over-eagerly seizing the chance to redeem VaughanWilliams's perceived reputation as parochial, folksy, insular and repressedbecause of his (again, perceived) eschewing of the modernist mainstream.

In some ways, Frogley's own `Constructing Englishness in Music: NationalCharacter and the Reception of Vaughan Williams', embodies this personalsense of a mission in its most positive form. Starting with the stereotypicalimage of Vaughan Williams as an `English, pastoral, and folksong composer'(p. 1), Frogley argues against the tendency for some critics to treat `nationalist',as a blunt synonym for insularity, xenophobia and worse. By exploring thehistorical sources which have conspired to trap the composer in this guise(including written documents, folksong collections, teaching materials and aformative monograph dating from 1950 by Hubert Foss), Frogley is able todispel much of the mystic aura which surrounds his subject. However, he alsoallows this process to flow reflexively, examining the ways in which Vaughan



Williams's music has helped to shape certain key aspects of English nationalidentity. And primary among these influences is the desire to link the composerwith the English countryside, either as the epitome of English expressiveimmediacy in music, or of empty `cowpat school' facility (depending upon theextent of the listener's unease with the history of the British Empire up towhatever historical point might be in question). In fact, as Frogley observes,the complacency engendered by centuries of English imperial hegemony wasinimical to the inculcation of those nationalist tendencies fostered byoppression elsewhere in the world; hence the idea of music as a significantbadge of national identity came to England relatively late. To the extent thatpast critics sought to maintain a modicum of collective self-criticism, however,this same complacency was also cited as a reason for English musical trendstending to lag a couple of decades behind those in continental Europe andelsewhere. When it did finally permeate native twentieth-century criticalsensibilities, such Ènglishness' as could be detected (by Cecil Sharp amongothers) was actually reliant on characteristics plainly shared with other nationalfolk musics. Moreover, Vaughan Williams himself was by no means asenamoured with this resource as is so generally assumed, only affirming a faithin the tradition of English `national music' at a much later stage of his creativelife.

Additional dimensions of negative objectification have also functioned,Frogley reasons, to construct the composer's critical monument. Thus inter-war escapism should be held responsible for the image of a parochialpastoralist, just as the impression of patriotic directness may be recognised asan aspect intended to reflect disapprobation towards Britten's `cleverness'and ùn-Englishness' ± widely-held views which, as Frogley confirms (p. 21,n. 49), were often based more on the latter's sexual proclivities than anydefinable musical attributes.9 Neither are the effects of the contemporarymarket-place so far away. For in drawing brief attention to the polarisationwhich presently exists between an intelligentsia in `terror of insularity', andthe forms of ùnchecked xenophobia [that thrive] . . . in the tabloidnewspapers' (p. 22), the author advances perhaps the most compellingexplanation as to why Vaughan Williams's reputation in the last thirty yearsmay have been so low among musicologists, yet so high among the generalclassical music-listening public in England. Even so, there are a few placeswhere Frogley might seem to lapse into a spate of special pleading. Thuscomments such as (p. 16) Ì defy anyone who is seriously listening to [ALondon Symphony] to hear in it `ìnane heartiness'' (precisely, in fact theverdict espoused by Tippett), or ìt is difficult to accuse him of insularity inthe inter-war years or at any other time, for that matter' (p. 18) fail tostrengthen the argument in any useful way. Furthermore, the lack of specificanalytical reflection only goes to point to the predominantly rhetorical


270 CHRIS KENNETT

character of what is otherwise a thoughtful and cogent re-siting of thecomposer in terms of his social and cultural background.

In truth, the negative consequences of a crusading approach to scholarshipare far more apparent in Michael Vaillancourt's `Coming of Age: The EarliestOrchestral Music of Ralph Vaughan Williams'. Spurred on by `cautionary'comments made by Michael Kennedy and others concerning the large amountof pre-1907 orchestral material that Vaughan Williams later withdrew,Vaillancourt attempts to make a case for reinstating it in order to restore hisreputation `as a rising young composer' (p. 24). Plainly, the author is convincedof the need to concentrate for the most part on motivic rather than tonal andharmonic issues, since Vaughan Williams `seems at this stage of his career tohave been more concerned with the thematic articulation of structure' (p. 28,n. 17). Nevertheless, there is little or no significant discussion of the thematictransformations Vaillancourt supposes to be evident from his chosen musicexamples.10 Thus, with only limited evidence available to back up such claims,any connections hinted at seem restricted to the level of purely subjectiveimagining.

The performative weaknesses which undermine Vaillancourt's approach bycomparison with the editor's set a pattern for the remainder of the volume.Clearly among the book's strongest contributions is Anthony Pople's `VaughanWilliams, Tallis and the Phantasy Principle', which explores an elegantlogistical connection between the `Phantasy principle' ± arising out of thestipulations made by W. W. Cobbett in the rubric for composers enteringworks for his chamber music competition, instituted in 1905 ± and the idea ofmusical `fantasy' realised through a process of improvisatory motivicassociation in the Tallis Fantasia. Pople's essay is particularly persuasive onaccount of its balancing of immanent concerns with detailed reference tohistorical sources. However, in terms of the main preoccupations of the presentreview, too many of the chapters found in Vaughan Williams Studies fall shortof this ideal. Hugh Cobbe's historiographical discourse on Vaughan Williams'sambivalent relationship with German nationalism; Byron Adams'sinvestigation of the composer's curious relationship with Christian religiousfeelings; Julian Onderdonk's apologia for Vaughan Williams's oftenquestionable methods of folksong collection and editing; and Jeffrey Richards'spersonal reading of the film music as embodiment of wider national issuesduring wartime: all of these essays seem to me to concentrate upon critical orhistorical matters to the detriment of informative (or at least illustrative)textual commentary. Without doubt, several members of the group contributemore successfully to the central debate outlined by Frogley concerning theways in which the composer might be taken to embody a series of unreconciledparadoxes as much personal as professional in kind. All the same, in theabsence of compelling analytical evidence to set alongside the documentary



source materials, all four essays appear to suffer from what might be termed the`shoulder-shrug factor': in short, a sense of `take it or leave it' indifference.

With Oliver Neighbour's article on the Eighth Symphony, though, wereturn to some of the problems of corroboration previously noted inconjunction with Tippett Studies. Once again, a limited range of musicexamples makes the author's comparative reading of the work's quasi-programmatic elements hard to substantiate, especially in the light of thevarious inconsistencies among Vaughan Williams's own comments about thesymphonies in general, and the Eighth in particular.11 Ostensibly, LionelPike's `Rhythm in the Symphonies: A Preliminary Investigation' couldsimilarly be thought to under-represent its subject matter. Far from advancingany form of overarching schematisation, Pike's basic premise appearsalarmingly simple: that `conflict between rhythmic manifestations of the primenumbers two and three is . . . basic to an understanding of the Fifth and SixthSymphonies' (p. 185). None the less, he goes on to outline a generallyinsightful reading of the interplay between dual and triple metre at varioushierarchical levels. Admittedly, much more could be said about the nature ofthe analytical process involved: for example, the rationale for deciding betweentwo opposite readings of the ictus pattern within a phrase or bar is quite simplyobscure. All the same, the sure sense that a valuable testural stake is involvedcertainly serves to address the interpretative challenges that Arnold Whittall somemorably describes in his essay for Tippett Studies. Writing here, like Pople,about a presumed pre- (or even anti-) modernist figure, Whittall's` ``Symphony in D Major'': Models and Mutations' is once more stronglycharacterised by the desire to measure formal expectations against the impulsesinvolved in analytical decision making. On this occasion, though, it is thereceived wisdom of others that comes under scrutiny: specifically the tendencyof critics such as Wilfrid Mellers and Frank Howes to think of the FifthSymphony as representing a time-honoured, teleological plotline from conflictto resolution.

Most striking is Whittall's condemnation of Howes's verdict as instan-tiating `the kind of exaggerated, blinkered adulation that says more about theinsularity and eccentricity of a certain generation of English music criticsthan about artistic realities' (p. 187). What prompts this abruptcondemnation is Howes's wish not merely to see the Fifth as `the mostsuccessful attempt since Beethoven to use music as a direct penetration of themystery of life', but perhaps even `a more successful attempt thanBeethoven's to deal with metaphysical issues in the language of sound'(Howes 1954, pp. 42±3). Hyperbole apart, it is actually the propensity ofHowes and others to attribute a state of sublime resolution to VaughanWilliams's Symphony that Whittall finds questionable. Thus Mellers'srecognition of a journey from `doubleness and ambiguity' towards a


272 CHRIS KENNETT

conclusion which reveals `a gateway to paradise', along with MichaelKennedy's description of the work as the `Symphony of the Celestial City'(both cited on p. 189) sustains an exalted impression which is hard toreconcile with much of the work's equivocal rhetoric.

Of course, the links with the transcendental concerns of Clarke's TippettStudies should be self-evident here. And certainly Whittall is less eager simplyto decry such associations than to examine them `more closely than is usual'(p. 190) in terms of their evasive harmonic and motivic modes of articulation.He therefore proceeds to formulate an alternative view of the work assuggesting `something of the mystery of the human condition', one whichbegins with a counter-reading of the precise technical features that serve todeflect the prevailing image of `the pastoral as transcendent' state in theopening Preludio. To illuminate the Preludio's characteristic doubleness,Whittall combines aspects of both voice-leading and pc set analysis predicatedupon alternative readings of D and F as not only local, but also longer-termtonal centres. The degree of harmonic ambiguity is most noticeable in theCoda, where a `model' sonority, summarised by a form of set-class 3±8 as pcs[0,2,6] alternates and competes with its `derivation' in the form of 3±7 as pcs[0,3,5] (p. 196). Whittall points out that the final bars of the movement finishon a bare C/D dyad (a version of the ic2 common to both set-classes) and thatthe particular spelling of both sets emphasises the one interval class which doesnot occur in the vectors of either set-class ± ic1 ± by virtue of a melodicalternation between F] (from the above-mentioned version of 3±8) and F\(from 3±7). Whittall also draws the reader's attention to the `illusory' nature ofthe `V±I' pattern which shifts between C and F in the low strings at thebeginning of the coda; hence this usually stable tonicising motion is deemedless definite, contextually speaking, than ostensibly more ambiguousformations, such as the whole-tone dyad [0, 2]. Similarly, by exploring aspectsof voice-leading in the Preludio, Whittall is able to suggest that the ambiguitywhich surrounds the potential voice-leading hegemony of C and D over muchof the opening music is itself able, paradoxically, to attain `the stability of atension' (p. 198).

Whittall completes his narrative picture of the first movement by furtherclarifying its tonal polarities, first of all in relation to several importantsymmetrical features, and latterly in contradistinction to those points ofpotential resolution (such as the recapitulation of the second subject) which aretypically thwarted through voice-leading means. To an important degree, thefact that the central C/D hegemony issue is not ultimately resolved until theend of the finale, when D major is at last established as overall (transcendental)tonic, appears to reaffirm the metaphysical trajectory claimed variously byHowes, Mellers and Kennedy. Yet by constructing such a convincing readingnot just of the forces, but also the counter-forces bound up in its teleological



outworking, Whittall's eventual recourse to primary source material ± VaughanWilliams's own views on Beethoven's Ninth Symphony as compared withsome of the most monumental music of Bach ± proves altogether more telling:

It is admittedly harder to write good music which is joyful than that which is

sad . . . to my mind . . . [only] two composers . . . have been able to write music

which is at the same time serious, profound, and cheerful ± Bach in the `Cum

Sancto' of the B minor Mass and Beethoven in the finale of the Choral

Symphony. Incidentally, both of these movements are in D major. (p. 209)

In this way a more contemporary version of the Fifth Symphony emerges: onewhich maintains a sense of ambiguity due to the composer's attempt toreconcile Beethovenian with Bachian technical and philosophical principles.

*

I have deliberately spent the bulk of this article building up a detailed pictureof the interpretative concerns apparent in these two books. And, for me, themost lasting impression gained thereby is of the contributors' refreshing (ifsurprising) commonality of purpose ± even, one might venture, of worldview.Many of Clarke's contributors are most widely published in analytical fields;most of Frogley's are better known in more historical ones. In each case, nonethe less, the majority of authors have endeavoured to draw upon material fromoutside their respective traditions as corroboration for the arguments they wishto advance. Yet in so doing they have succeeded ± possibly without knowing it± in underlining similarities between two composers whose creative practicesand critical mythologies, at least on the face of it, could hardly overlap less.That said, each volume exhibits its own set of problems and missedopportunities. Thus if, on the one hand, I have been guilty of labouring acase on behalf of pitch-class set genera theory, then it is only because its in-built reflexivity and facility for heuristic comparison would seem to sit wellwith so many of the readings presented here. Yet if (and more importantly), onthe other, methodological apparatus of this kind can be taken to underscore theenduring value of formalist close reading, then each book, too, displays aselection of work which exposes much of the unwarranted intellectualconservatism apparent within native musical scholarship.

Altogether the strongest disappointment derived from reading both bookstogether arises from the extent to which historical and critical evidencegenerally fails to mesh with the results of detailed analytical applications. Inpart, this difficulty comes not from a lack of ambition, but rather from eacharticle trying to be its own book, shoehorning historical, analytical, perceptualand socio-cultural data into an average of 5,000 words. Almost inevitably undersuch generic constraints, something has to give. But notably, it seems that the


274 CHRIS KENNETT

`analysis' element is invariably the first to be thrown out of the equation: lessperhaps a consequence of scholarly values persisting from an earlier time even,than of their being reinvented as a consequence of present-day economicrestrictions. Despite this, however, both volumes at their best exhibit an `un-English' preoccupation with analytical rigour to excellent effect. And, by thesame token, they also provide thoughtful evidence for the ways in which bothcomposers not only helped to shape the culture of Britain throughout much ofthe twentieth century, but are also likely to prolong their influence into that ofthe twenty-first.

NOTES

1. Some, such as Howes 1965, White 1970, Evans 1979 and Kennedy 1980,however, are particularly relevant here.

2. In particular, the Cambridge Music Handbooks series has disseminated aremarkable variety of scholarly, yet user-friendly material on subjects as diverseas Berg's Violin Concerto (Pople 1991) and the Beatles' Sergeant Pepper album(Moore 1997).

3. David Clarke (ed.), Tippett Studies (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1999). xv + 232 pp. £42.50. ISBN 0-521-59205-4 (hb); Alain Frogley (ed.),Vaughan Williams Studies (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996). xvii+ 241 pp. £37.50. ISBN 0-521-48031-0 (hb).

4. For a comprehensive introduction to the topic of set genera, see Forte 1988.Additional debate on the subject can be found in Ayrey 1998 and Kennett 1995 &1998.

5. Although, of course, the larger the cardinality of the `superset', the morecircumstantial the evidence for its (in this case diatonic) lineage. For instance,11±1, being the only discrete cardinal 11 set-class within the Fortean universe(in other words, the universal set minus one pitch-class) is inevitably a`superset' of every possible set of a lower cardinality, thus limiting itsusefulness as an inclusive collection. However, Pople's use of specificaggregations circumvents much of the potential for arbitrariness here.

6. A term first applied specifically to popular music in Gracyk 1996.

7. For example, to name just two possibilities, the E could be thought of asarpeggiating up to the G (obligatory register notwithstanding), via a passing F].Alternatively, the D could be understood as being prolonged by its upperneighbour, E, as well as by two further discrete arpeggiations, one down from theF], the other down to the G.

8. Pollard and Clarke are the only contributors to Tippett Studies to employ more orless the full panoply of Fortean set-theoretic (though not generic) principles in sofar as they consider similarity relations and set-complex formations in somedetail.



9. Indeed, in view of some of the additional concerns of Clarke's volume, we mightsubstitute `Tippett' for `Britten' here.

10. See, for example, the author's comparison of the third movement of Brahms'sSecond Symphony with that of Vaughan Williams's Bucolic Suite: `Theintermezzo third movement displays unmistakable affinities with the thirdmovement of Brahms's Second Symphony. Both are marked ``Allegretto'' andbegin in triple metre; both begin with the oboes presenting a simple symmetricalphrase . . . Brahms restricts his opening paragraph to the woodwind choir and apizzicato bass line in the cellos; Vaughan Williams employs the full string sectionbut nevertheless emphasises the woodwinds' (pp. 29±30).

11. Neighbour cites two specific comments on the Pastoral Symphony by VaughanWilliams himself. In a 1921 programme note, the composer suggests that `themood of the Symphony is . . . almost entirely quiet and contemplative'; however,by 1938, he was prepared to declare that `it's really war-time music . . . it's notreally lambkins frisking at all as most people take for granted' (p. 221).

REFERENCES

Ayrey, Craig (ed.), 1998: `Pitch-Class Set Genera: A Symposium', Music Analysis,

17/ii, pp. 163±246.

Banfield, Stephen (ed.), 1995: Blackwell History of Music in Britain: The Twentieth

Century (Oxford: Blackwell).

Bowen, Meirion (ed.), 1995: Tippett on Music (Oxford: Clarendon Press).

Dent, Edward J., 1933: Ferruccio Busoni (London: Oxford University Press).

Evans, Peter, 1979: The Music of Benjamin Britten (London: Dent).

Forte, Allen, 1988: `Pitch-Class Set Genera and the Origin of Modern Harmonic

Species', Journal of Music Theory, 32, pp. 187±270.

Gracyk, Theodore, 1996: Rhythm and Noise: An Aesthetics of Rock (London:

I.B.Tauris).

Howes, Frank, 1954: The Music of Ralph Vaughan Williams (London: Oxford

University Press).

_____, 1965: The Music of William Walton (London: Oxford University Press).

Kemp, Ian (ed.), 1965: Tippett: A Symposium on his 60th Birthday (London: Faber

& Faber).

_____, 1984: Tippett: The Composer and his Music (London: Eulenburg Books).

Kennedy, Michael, 1980: The Works of Ralph Vaughan Williams (London: Oxford

University Press, 2nd rev. edn.).

Kennett, Chris, 1995: `The Harmonic Species of Frank Bridge: An Assessment of

the Applicability of Pitch-Class Generic Theory to Analysis of a Corpus of

Works by a Transitional Composer' (PhD diss., University of Reading).

_____, 1998: `Segmentation and Focus in Set-Generic Analysis', Music Analysis,

17/ii, pp. 127±59.


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Moore, Allan F., 1997: The Beatles' Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).

Pople, Anthony, 1991: Berg's Violin Concerto (Cambridge: Cambridge University

Press).

Puffett, Derrick, 1995: `Tippett and the Retreat from Mythology', Musical Times,

136, pp. 6±14.

Tagg, Philip, 1992: `Towards a Sign Typology of Music', in Rosanna Dalmonte

and Mario Baroni (eds.), Secondo Convegno Europeo di Analisi Musicale

(Trento: UniversitaÁ degli studi di Trento), pp. 369±78.

White, Eric Walter, 1970: Benjamin Britten: His Life and Operas (London: Faber).



compromise, conflation and contextualism in english music(ology)

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