Peter Jacobs piano
HERITAGE HTGCD 131
Peter Jacobs has a long history of recording British piano music, and this is his latest anthology (I welcomed the first in 2021) for the Heritage Label. As he says, this is a personal selection, with no particular thread or connection between works.
Personally, I prefer Coleridge-Taylor’s rather cute Petite Suite de Concert in its orchestral form, but if it is to your taste, here is the original that so captivated Edwardian audiences.
Rubbra’s Eight Preludes from 1967 are the major work here. Ranging from 44 seconds to over three minutes, they are for the most part unapologetically grave and reflective, and about as far removed from today’s preoccupations as imaginable. Jacobs calls Rubbra a forgotten genius, and I would not argue; now that Vaughan Williams and Tippett are slowly coming back in from the cold, is there a chance that a new generation might have the patience and the seriousness to rediscover this profound and thoughtful visionary?
Also largely forgotten is the Anglo-Indian John Mayer, who had quite a name when I was young. Jacobs played some of his Calcutta–Nagar on his first anthology, and here are 18 more. They are very brief portraits – some just 20 seconds or so – of places in Calcutta (a temple, a market, a river). Colourful, tonal, and mostly simple (think Mompou-ish) at first I found many of them so fleeting that I wondered if they were not more rewarding to play than hear: however familiarity does reveal them to be enjoyable, if rather teasing.
Two slightly faded names – Cyril Scott (the inevitable Lotus Land) and Armstrong Gibbs – are represented, the latter by two wartime Lakeland Pictures. They are complemented by two pastoral miniatures from the truly obscure Greville Cooke and Cecil Baumer, which virtually demand the description “charming”, as one might say of a sepia landscape or delicate watercolour.
Two very brief pieces by Delius (a Waltz and a Mazurka!) are more characteristic than you might expect, while Christopher Headington’s Toccata (1963) is the most “modern” piece here – but even so it will not frighten any horses, and is more playful than demonic.
Nothing momentous here then (though the Rubbra punches above its weight), while the recording (made just last September) is no-nonsense and clear, as are the performances. More power to this adventurous and resourceful pianist, and long may he continue exploring on behalf of us all!
Review by Kevin Mandry