If you think you know what Wilson is going to sound like in Walton’s 1st Symphony, you’re probably right. Though I was hoping against hope that he would surprise us and come up with something momentous. Or at least worthwhile. But no such luck. As fine as this orchestra is at sightreading, this piece needs much more than clinical expertise. And if that seems like a rather cold, harsh description of what this is, well, that’s exactly what it sounds like.
But it’s not all bad. The Overture is vivacious. And as I would discover later, the Cello Concerto is quite wonderful. But let’s be real – no one is buying this release for those. So don’t put away your old 1966 Previn RCA CD yet (especially the 2007 24/96 remastering on BMG Japan). It still reigns absolutely supreme. And to be fair, over the ensuing six decades since Previn made that landmark recording, only Slatkin (1988/Virgin/LPO) came even close to matching it.1 A major contributing factor to this, aside from the excellence of the conductors of course, is that Previn had the LSO in its prime at his fingertips, and Slatkin chose the LPO to record the work, rather than his usual St. Louis Symphony. These established, highly experienced London orchestras have this music in their very bones and are second to none in this repertoire. Wilson, on the other hand, uses his hand-picked studio band, who he assembles for studio sessions whenever he gets the random urge to record something. And as good as they are as individual musicians, there’s a problem playing something as difficult as Walton’s 1st Symphony as an ensemble when they aren’t used to playing together.
Before we get into that, first I must praise Chandos producer Brian Pidgeon for finally (finally!) figuring out what an overture is. He places the Scapino overture first on the program – where it belongs. And follows it with the concerto – exactly where it belongs. That makes for a perfect first half of the concert; and the disc closes with the symphony, just as it would be programmed in a real concert. Excellent!
And Scapino sets the tone of the entire concert. Wilson treats it as a virtuoso showpiece for orchestra. And that’s what this orchestra does best, so why not? It works great in Scapino, though not so much in the symphony (but I’m getting ahead of myself). It’s fast, effervescent, energetic, dynamic, and very exciting. Wilson reveals loads of detail, bringing out every little moving part whether important or not. And he relaxes beautifully in the central section, giving the solo strings a chance to infuse a bit of operatic voluptuousness to their melodic lines (though their vibrato is a bit over the top for this). Best of all, the recorded sound is excellent – replete with full-bodied strings, biting brass, and splendid dynamics.2
Anxious to get to the symphony after the scintillating overture, I skipped the cello concerto for now, which to be honest, has never been one of my favorites. I’ll come back to it later.
Listening to the symphony, it didn’t take long before I began to hear some strange things going on with balances and dynamics, which were so unexpected, I had to grab my score before I even got to the first climax to see what in the world Wilson was doing. For instance, right from the very beginning, the nervous, rhythmic figures in the 2nd violins are virtually inaudible – completely drowned out by the horns. And where are the accents? They’re sort-of there, but don’t have nearly the crisp articulation or bite that they should. Admittedly, the violins are marked ppp, but so are the horns! So why are their unimportant sustained tones so loud? And then a few bars later, when the 1st violins take up the propulsive staccato 8th-note jumping octaves, they too are ill-defined and fail to propel the music. Conversely, a few bars later, at Fig 6, the horns now are practically inaudible just when they are needed most – at their first fortissimo, with accents, up on high Bbs. Why? I believe there is some not-so-subtle knob-twiddling going on in the control room – which, in a modern recording, is completely unnecessary. This can’t possibly be Wilson’s doing.
However, once the record engineer settles down and gets less fidgety with his fingers on the controls, the music begins to unfold more uniformly, and Wilson gets down to business. He reveals some really nice details – such as the cellos at Fig 7, which are marked f and marcato, while the violin busywork is pp. And that’s a differentiation worth noting. And while all those hairpins are not very effectively executed by the strings, the trombones sure hammer them home with plenty of bite and power. Excellent! (If only they would do this more often.) Unfortunately, the first climax at Fig 14 is pretty tame – the strings sound thin and far from ff. And there’s absolutely no tension whatever going into the little mysterious rallentando at Fig 17, and the tuba and 3rd trombone are far from ff leading to the climax. So already, Wilson is failing to build the necessary tension, allowing his orchestra to get lackadaisical with dynamics and articulation.
As the movement progresses, (and I really have to stop being quite so detailed in describing it), I hear some lovely sound from the strings – airy and spacious. But the music itself becomes a little matter-of-fact, bland even, as Wilson makes his way through these sections getting to something he likes more. The rhythmic figures in the 2nds and violas are all but lost in the mix, causing the forward flow to lose momentum (along with tension). And just occasionally, the acoustic, as luxurious as it is, sounds just a bit over-reverberant to be beneficial in this regard. And when arriving at the next climactic point, at Fig 31, it’s not at all climactic – it’s too rushed! Argh. It’s so exasperating to hear Wilson drive headlong through this, rendering it inconsequential, and any hope that he’ll ever generate the necessary tension evaporates. And yet again, at Fig 32, there is no “arrival” (where did the trombones go in this passage marked fffz?!), and the entire brass section wimps out leading to the enormous climax at Fig 33. Are they tired already?
The next section relaxes beautifully, and the violins are gorgeous playing their ecstatic ff tune at Fig 34. Now this is better! I know Wilson has it in him to make music like this; why doesn’t he inject this much emotion elsewhere? But, alas, just as I’m getting into it, the ensuing crescendo fails to materialize. And at Fig 40, where oh where are the horns? (Maybe off somewhere with the trombones?) Walton marks them fff and accented – what more indication do they need to play with some power?
And this continued lack of dynamic strength from the orchestra seriously affects the final few minutes of this movement. Nowhere more devastatingly than the timpani at the very end – which sound so far away from the rest of the orchestra, they might as well be in a different room. Walton marks them fff and accented – and again, what more does he have to do to get their attention? Instead, they are indistinct and weak, and the dash to the end lacks drive and muscle – thus ruining this most dramatic of climaxes, which should be overwhelming in its unstoppable culmination of everything which has come before it.
Even by basic, professional orchestral standards, this orchestra fails to deliver the powerful, engaging, musical involvement required for this 1st movement. They really do sound like they’re just sightreading this and Wilson is apparently fine with that. (“Ah…it’s good enough.”) I actually swore under my breath at Wilson for this. (I actually wrote something even worse in my notes.) It’s completely unacceptable.
Moving on to the Scherzo, which should be less demanding of them, it darts off in a flash, but is surely too gossamer. And I immediately question – where are all the accents? Walton goes to great pains marking them everywhere. And that’s for a reason. But Wilson merely skates over the surface in his haste. Malizia? Not even a hint of it. It’s flirtatious, jovial even, as Wilson races off in a flurry of frivolous virtuosity.3 It’s lightweight, and the many sffz and accents are glossed over. The suddenness of dynamic contrasts are smooth rather than jagged, rendering the music innocuous rather than malicious. Worst of all, the gnashing clashes in tonality, beginning just after Fig 60, are much too affable; the brass don’t play with enough snarl or bite. (Again, no malice.) And later, just after Fig 67, the hugely dramatic ff (and accented) descending quarter-note exclamations (E-C-E, bum-bum-bum) are polite and timid, and go by without importance. Wilson, as is his wont, sounds like he’s in a great big hurry to get it over with. And in the final measures, even here the brass sound a little mild-mannered – though you can just make out the horns’ quick little gliss there at the end, which I liked.
Once again, this sounds like well-trained musicians sightreading their way through this. And, amazingly, they do manage to keep up and get in all the notes in all the right places. But at this speed, they simply don’t have time to take note of all the many dynamic and articulation markings. And Wilson seems content with that. (“Just go with it.”)
I was so exasperated at this point, I was hesitant to subject myself to the Andante. But seeing that Wilson breezes through it nearly 2 minutes faster than Previn (!), I thought maybe I could persevere. Plus there is a flute solo from Adam Walker at the beginning to look forward to. And, as expected, he plays it beautifully. But that only lasted so long before Wilson went on autopilot, and the music sounds matter-of-fact and simply too fast – not quite rushed, but not endearing either. This tempo might have been ok if there was some mystery to it. Or even the slightest bit of affection. But there isn’t. Just as malice was missing in the Presto, emotional involvement is missing here. There’s not much to the climax at Fig 92, and at the Maestoso (Fig 96), where’s the intensity? Or the passion? Wilson just hurries through it in his usual, detached way.
And off we go in the finale. This can be difficult to pull off even for the best conductors and ensembles, and Wilson shoots himself in foot right off the bat in the introduction. Maestoso? Hardly. Wilson is in such a huge hurry to get through this and on to the Allegro, the ff accented sixteenth notes in the strings go by like mush – not even very well executed. It sounds like Wilson wants them all on downbows, but they barely sound spiccato at this speed – with little weight or body of tone to them. And they end up sounding almost comical – ridiculously so. And with the “maestoso” played this fast, Wilson has nowhere left to go but to take off like a jet in the Allegro brioso just to make a distinction between the two. And as in the Scherzo before, there simply is no time for these players to observe all the many dynamics and articulation markings. Thus accents and, especially, sforzandos, go by with little notice. And it’s much too lightweight to be anywhere near ff when called for.
There is a fine climax though (Fig 122-123), and the vivacissimo section after that is very well done – mercurial, and even a bit whimsical. But then the even bigger fff climax at Fig 137 is distinctly underwhelming, and the maestoso which follows is, again, ruthlessly rushed. The strings redeem themselves in the next section though (Fig 139), where they bring it with gusto; followed by a touching, plaintive trumpet solo – a bit reminiscent of “Taps”, despite it sounding slightly too fast. And as the big finale approaches (just after Fig 141), the tempo most certainly is too fast, and the music bubbles forth joyously rather than triumphantly. And I can’t imagine that’s how Walton intended it to sound. Oh, and one final nitpick – in the last measure, why is the final dotted 8th longer than the preceding two? I see no justification for it in the score, and it sounds contrived, ineffectual and a little pretentious doing it this way.4
As a whole, I would describe Wilson’s way with this symphony as capricious, whimsical and somewhat frivolous. And none of that is what we want from Walton’s monumental 1st Symphony. We need drama first and foremost. And we absolutely must have tension. And above all – POWER! But Wilson doesn’t see it that way. Or maybe – just maybe – his on-demand collection of musicians simply can’t deliver it. Whatever the reason, I admit I’m surprised this was such a colossal letdown.
As to the Cello Concerto, do I even need to go into this? I mean, no matter how good it might be, it wouldn’t begin to compensate for the symphony, right? Well, I may have been wrong about that.
But it’s not all bad. The Overture is vivacious. And as I would discover later, the Cello Concerto is quite wonderful. But let’s be real – no one is buying this release for those. So don’t put away your old 1966 Previn RCA CD yet (especially the 2007 24/96 remastering on BMG Japan). It still reigns absolutely supreme. And to be fair, over the ensuing six decades since Previn made that landmark recording, only Slatkin (1988/Virgin/LPO) came even close to matching it.1 A major contributing factor to this, aside from the excellence of the conductors of course, is that Previn had the LSO in its prime at his fingertips, and Slatkin chose the LPO to record the work, rather than his usual St. Louis Symphony. These established, highly experienced London orchestras have this music in their very bones and are second to none in this repertoire. Wilson, on the other hand, uses his hand-picked studio band, who he assembles for studio sessions whenever he gets the random urge to record something. And as good as they are as individual musicians, there’s a problem playing something as difficult as Walton’s 1st Symphony as an ensemble when they aren’t used to playing together.
Before we get into that, first I must praise Chandos producer Brian Pidgeon for finally (finally!) figuring out what an overture is. He places the Scapino overture first on the program – where it belongs. And follows it with the concerto – exactly where it belongs. That makes for a perfect first half of the concert; and the disc closes with the symphony, just as it would be programmed in a real concert. Excellent!
And Scapino sets the tone of the entire concert. Wilson treats it as a virtuoso showpiece for orchestra. And that’s what this orchestra does best, so why not? It works great in Scapino, though not so much in the symphony (but I’m getting ahead of myself). It’s fast, effervescent, energetic, dynamic, and very exciting. Wilson reveals loads of detail, bringing out every little moving part whether important or not. And he relaxes beautifully in the central section, giving the solo strings a chance to infuse a bit of operatic voluptuousness to their melodic lines (though their vibrato is a bit over the top for this). Best of all, the recorded sound is excellent – replete with full-bodied strings, biting brass, and splendid dynamics.2
Anxious to get to the symphony after the scintillating overture, I skipped the cello concerto for now, which to be honest, has never been one of my favorites. I’ll come back to it later.
Listening to the symphony, it didn’t take long before I began to hear some strange things going on with balances and dynamics, which were so unexpected, I had to grab my score before I even got to the first climax to see what in the world Wilson was doing. For instance, right from the very beginning, the nervous, rhythmic figures in the 2nd violins are virtually inaudible – completely drowned out by the horns. And where are the accents? They’re sort-of there, but don’t have nearly the crisp articulation or bite that they should. Admittedly, the violins are marked ppp, but so are the horns! So why are their unimportant sustained tones so loud? And then a few bars later, when the 1st violins take up the propulsive staccato 8th-note jumping octaves, they too are ill-defined and fail to propel the music. Conversely, a few bars later, at Fig 6, the horns now are practically inaudible just when they are needed most – at their first fortissimo, with accents, up on high Bbs. Why? I believe there is some not-so-subtle knob-twiddling going on in the control room – which, in a modern recording, is completely unnecessary. This can’t possibly be Wilson’s doing.
However, once the record engineer settles down and gets less fidgety with his fingers on the controls, the music begins to unfold more uniformly, and Wilson gets down to business. He reveals some really nice details – such as the cellos at Fig 7, which are marked f and marcato, while the violin busywork is pp. And that’s a differentiation worth noting. And while all those hairpins are not very effectively executed by the strings, the trombones sure hammer them home with plenty of bite and power. Excellent! (If only they would do this more often.) Unfortunately, the first climax at Fig 14 is pretty tame – the strings sound thin and far from ff. And there’s absolutely no tension whatever going into the little mysterious rallentando at Fig 17, and the tuba and 3rd trombone are far from ff leading to the climax. So already, Wilson is failing to build the necessary tension, allowing his orchestra to get lackadaisical with dynamics and articulation.
As the movement progresses, (and I really have to stop being quite so detailed in describing it), I hear some lovely sound from the strings – airy and spacious. But the music itself becomes a little matter-of-fact, bland even, as Wilson makes his way through these sections getting to something he likes more. The rhythmic figures in the 2nds and violas are all but lost in the mix, causing the forward flow to lose momentum (along with tension). And just occasionally, the acoustic, as luxurious as it is, sounds just a bit over-reverberant to be beneficial in this regard. And when arriving at the next climactic point, at Fig 31, it’s not at all climactic – it’s too rushed! Argh. It’s so exasperating to hear Wilson drive headlong through this, rendering it inconsequential, and any hope that he’ll ever generate the necessary tension evaporates. And yet again, at Fig 32, there is no “arrival” (where did the trombones go in this passage marked fffz?!), and the entire brass section wimps out leading to the enormous climax at Fig 33. Are they tired already?
The next section relaxes beautifully, and the violins are gorgeous playing their ecstatic ff tune at Fig 34. Now this is better! I know Wilson has it in him to make music like this; why doesn’t he inject this much emotion elsewhere? But, alas, just as I’m getting into it, the ensuing crescendo fails to materialize. And at Fig 40, where oh where are the horns? (Maybe off somewhere with the trombones?) Walton marks them fff and accented – what more indication do they need to play with some power?
And this continued lack of dynamic strength from the orchestra seriously affects the final few minutes of this movement. Nowhere more devastatingly than the timpani at the very end – which sound so far away from the rest of the orchestra, they might as well be in a different room. Walton marks them fff and accented – and again, what more does he have to do to get their attention? Instead, they are indistinct and weak, and the dash to the end lacks drive and muscle – thus ruining this most dramatic of climaxes, which should be overwhelming in its unstoppable culmination of everything which has come before it.
Even by basic, professional orchestral standards, this orchestra fails to deliver the powerful, engaging, musical involvement required for this 1st movement. They really do sound like they’re just sightreading this and Wilson is apparently fine with that. (“Ah…it’s good enough.”) I actually swore under my breath at Wilson for this. (I actually wrote something even worse in my notes.) It’s completely unacceptable.
Moving on to the Scherzo, which should be less demanding of them, it darts off in a flash, but is surely too gossamer. And I immediately question – where are all the accents? Walton goes to great pains marking them everywhere. And that’s for a reason. But Wilson merely skates over the surface in his haste. Malizia? Not even a hint of it. It’s flirtatious, jovial even, as Wilson races off in a flurry of frivolous virtuosity.3 It’s lightweight, and the many sffz and accents are glossed over. The suddenness of dynamic contrasts are smooth rather than jagged, rendering the music innocuous rather than malicious. Worst of all, the gnashing clashes in tonality, beginning just after Fig 60, are much too affable; the brass don’t play with enough snarl or bite. (Again, no malice.) And later, just after Fig 67, the hugely dramatic ff (and accented) descending quarter-note exclamations (E-C-E, bum-bum-bum) are polite and timid, and go by without importance. Wilson, as is his wont, sounds like he’s in a great big hurry to get it over with. And in the final measures, even here the brass sound a little mild-mannered – though you can just make out the horns’ quick little gliss there at the end, which I liked.
Once again, this sounds like well-trained musicians sightreading their way through this. And, amazingly, they do manage to keep up and get in all the notes in all the right places. But at this speed, they simply don’t have time to take note of all the many dynamic and articulation markings. And Wilson seems content with that. (“Just go with it.”)
I was so exasperated at this point, I was hesitant to subject myself to the Andante. But seeing that Wilson breezes through it nearly 2 minutes faster than Previn (!), I thought maybe I could persevere. Plus there is a flute solo from Adam Walker at the beginning to look forward to. And, as expected, he plays it beautifully. But that only lasted so long before Wilson went on autopilot, and the music sounds matter-of-fact and simply too fast – not quite rushed, but not endearing either. This tempo might have been ok if there was some mystery to it. Or even the slightest bit of affection. But there isn’t. Just as malice was missing in the Presto, emotional involvement is missing here. There’s not much to the climax at Fig 92, and at the Maestoso (Fig 96), where’s the intensity? Or the passion? Wilson just hurries through it in his usual, detached way.
And off we go in the finale. This can be difficult to pull off even for the best conductors and ensembles, and Wilson shoots himself in foot right off the bat in the introduction. Maestoso? Hardly. Wilson is in such a huge hurry to get through this and on to the Allegro, the ff accented sixteenth notes in the strings go by like mush – not even very well executed. It sounds like Wilson wants them all on downbows, but they barely sound spiccato at this speed – with little weight or body of tone to them. And they end up sounding almost comical – ridiculously so. And with the “maestoso” played this fast, Wilson has nowhere left to go but to take off like a jet in the Allegro brioso just to make a distinction between the two. And as in the Scherzo before, there simply is no time for these players to observe all the many dynamics and articulation markings. Thus accents and, especially, sforzandos, go by with little notice. And it’s much too lightweight to be anywhere near ff when called for.
There is a fine climax though (Fig 122-123), and the vivacissimo section after that is very well done – mercurial, and even a bit whimsical. But then the even bigger fff climax at Fig 137 is distinctly underwhelming, and the maestoso which follows is, again, ruthlessly rushed. The strings redeem themselves in the next section though (Fig 139), where they bring it with gusto; followed by a touching, plaintive trumpet solo – a bit reminiscent of “Taps”, despite it sounding slightly too fast. And as the big finale approaches (just after Fig 141), the tempo most certainly is too fast, and the music bubbles forth joyously rather than triumphantly. And I can’t imagine that’s how Walton intended it to sound. Oh, and one final nitpick – in the last measure, why is the final dotted 8th longer than the preceding two? I see no justification for it in the score, and it sounds contrived, ineffectual and a little pretentious doing it this way.4
As a whole, I would describe Wilson’s way with this symphony as capricious, whimsical and somewhat frivolous. And none of that is what we want from Walton’s monumental 1st Symphony. We need drama first and foremost. And we absolutely must have tension. And above all – POWER! But Wilson doesn’t see it that way. Or maybe – just maybe – his on-demand collection of musicians simply can’t deliver it. Whatever the reason, I admit I’m surprised this was such a colossal letdown.
As to the Cello Concerto, do I even need to go into this? I mean, no matter how good it might be, it wouldn’t begin to compensate for the symphony, right? Well, I may have been wrong about that.
Instantly in the opening Moderato, I hear all the intrigue, drama and dynamic impact which were lacking in the symphony. The sense of anticipation created here is positively palpable. I was transfixed, unable to move from in front of the speakers. And even in the more virtuosic Allegro appassionato which follows, there is an intensity and, yes, passion, which caught me off guard and kept me thoroughly enthralled. The extended finale then, which is as long as the previous two movements combined, displays a wide variety of moods, color and atmosphere – music in which Wilson (and the Chandos recording team) excels at. And he is very engaging here. In fact, I was taken aback by the orchestral pronouncement just before the cadenza, which is more powerful, exciting and invigorating than anything Wilson produced in the symphony – prompting an impulsive WOW! from me.
To be sure, Wilson’s contribution in this piece is phenomenal. However, it would be for naught if the soloist wasn’t equally exceptional. And he most certainly is. Jonathan Aasgaard’s playing is full of emotion and expressiveness, and he accommodates the virtuosic passages with aplomb. His cadenza near the end is impressive, leading to a deeply felt final Adagio. Most of all, though, his very presence in the recording session seems to have been pure inspiration for John Wilson. This concerto, as recorded here, is a moving – almost transcendent – experience which I wasn’t expecting. Suffice it to say, I enjoyed the piece more than I ever have before. And just as with the Violin Concerto in the previous installment, Wilson and his soloist made me truly love this concerto for the very first time. Jonathan Aasgaard is a wonderful and inspiring soloist, and Wilson is a fine accompanist. And I begin to understand why Chandos gives the concerto top billing on the front cover. And maybe, just maybe, this disc might be worth it after all.
I would expect the final installment in the series will give us the Viola Concerto (which I now really look forward to), and the 2nd Symphony (which Wilson might actually do a little better in). We can hope for the best.
1 Some make mention of Litton’s 1993 Decca recording with the Bournemouth Symphony as being another worthy successor. Though I have that CD on my shelf, I don’t remember it being in the same exalted class. I may have to revisit it.
2 This was recorded in January 2024, around the same time as Wilson’s previously released Walton disc. Curiously, the cello concerto and the symphony were recorded much earlier – before that first volume was released – in 2022/23. How very odd.
3 And it’s not even all that fast; Previn is over 20 seconds quicker in this movement.
4 I do realize Wilson is not alone in doing this. But that still doesn’t make it right. Or effective.
