Edward Elgar and His World (37 page)

Terry died two years later, in November 1936. His distinguished contributions to historical research in the fields of Scottish history and musicology, especially dealing with Bach and his world, are set out in an extensive publications list. Less evident, but nonetheless extraordinarily valuable, is the information that Terry scrupulously preserved, in this bound volume and elsewhere, concerning his friendship with Edward Elgar.

NOTES ON THE INTRODUCTION

1. See Michael Kennedy,
The Life of Elgar
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp. 120–21. Oddly, Kennedy does not mention Lady Elgar's speculation to Dora Penny (enshrined as “Dorabella” in the
Enigma
Variations) that an inspiration for the Violin Concerto was Julia Worthington. See Michael De-la-Noy,
Elgar the Man
(London: Allan Lane, 1983), 149.

2. L. G. Wickham Legg, ed.,
Dictionary of National Biography: 5th Supplement: 1931—1940
(London: Oxford University Press, 1949), 851–52.

3. See Alison I. Shiel, “Charles Sanford Terry and Aberdeen University Choral Society,”
Aberdeen University Review
49, no. 206 (Autumn 2001): 122–33; and “Aberdeen's Competitive Music Festivals 1909–13,”
Northern Scotland
, 22 (August 2002).

4. See Alison I. Shiel, “Elgar's Visits to Aberdeen,”
Elgar Society Journal
13, no. 1 (March 2003): 36–40.

5. Alison I. Shiel, “Charles Sanford Terry in the Elgar Diaries; the Chronicle of a Friendship,”
Elgar Society Journal
12, no. 5 (July 2002): 193–96.

6. Alison I. Shiel, “Charles Sanford Terry and the Elgar Violin Concerto,”
Elgar Society Journal
12, no. 6 (November 2002): 254.

7. Elgar, writing to Terry on 5 August 1910, described the Violin Concerto as “a Dunter,” referring to the powerful nature of the work. The
Oxford English Dictionary
gives two definitions for “dunt”: the first is “to knock with a dull sound, as with the fist in the back or ribs”; the second is “of the heart: to beat violently.” Either is apposite to the concerto, as Elgar may have used “dunter” to suggest that the score would be a “knock-out.”

8. Hereford and Worcester Record Office 705:445, parcel 22 (i) 7916.

9. Charles Sanford Terry, “Notes on Elgar's Violin Concerto,” in British Library Add. MS 62000.

10. Aberdeen University Library, MS 3237/1–5.

11. 1919 letter from Charles Sanford Terry to Sir John Marnoch, in British Library Add. MS 62000.

12. Terry, “Notes on Elgar's Violin Concerto.”

 

Notes on Elgar's Violin Concerto, by Charles Sanford Terry

It seems well, for the benefit of posterity, that I should place on record the facts and details known to me in relation to the Concerto. There are matters too sacred and intimate for even the biggest friendship to pry into, and though I was with Elgar when he was correcting the proof of the dedicatory page bound in this volume I did not attempt to obtain any solution of the mystery of the Spanish motto. At the same time I have not the slightest doubt that it is his own soul which the Concerto enshrines. In the first place it will be noticed that he originally wrote “del” before the blank, an indication that the name to follow was a masculine one. True, while I was looking over his shoulder, he wrote “de la” in red ink under “del,” but thereafter he took the trouble to consult a Spanish friend, M. de Novaro [sic]
¹
, as to whether the word “del” would leave the sex of the soul's possessor undetermined. Receiving an assurance that it did he retained it and deleted the “de la.” In the second place there is evidence of a particular intimate relation between the Concerto and its creator. One of the most extraordinary and fascinating traits in Elgar's great and beautiful character is a curious attitude of detachment from his work, an utter absence of even the faintest trace of “side” or affectation in regard to it. To the genius, I suppose, even works of the most stupendous grandeur seem the inevitable result of forces within him. On the rare occasions when he spoke spontaneously of his work it was their construction on which he allowed himself to dwell. Thus of “The Apostles” he once remarked in answer to some attempt on my part to express its message to me, “Yes, it is a large canvas, isn't it.” At York in July 1910 when he conducted “King Olaf” and heard it, so he told me, for the first time performed on the scale and with the accessories he required, he amused the orchestra vastly by saying out loud to himself, “By Jove, there's good stuff in this.” Afterwards he told us that the constructional skill of one of the numbers had struck him and he pointed it out to us, adding curiously, “I
could
write in those days!” But I have never heard Elgar
speak
of the
personal
note in his music except in regard to the Concerto, and of it I heard him say more than once when he was playing it over before it was produced, “I
love
it.” Again there is a fact for which Ivor Atkins of Worcester is my authority. Speaking of the Concerto Elgar said to him one day that he would like the Nobilmente theme in the Andante inscribed on his tomb. I remember how moved he was by that passage and the violin passage which heralds it 2 bars before figure 53 when Kreisler first played it to him, and how with his own left hand held as though it were supporting his own fiddle he reproduced the emotion and vibrato which Kreisler brought to the interpretation of that passage. Nor did I ever hear the Concerto played through by Elgar without his doing the same thing.

The first Rehearsal of the Concerto was called for the morning of Wednesday November 9th. A few privileged people were present, among whom I saw Ysaÿe, old Hollmann the Cellist, Landon Ronald and others. Before rehearsing the Overture (The Naiades)
²
Elgar turned at once to the Cadenza Accompagnata, evidently anxious to have the first opportunity of testing the effect of the novel tremolando which he has introduced there for the strings. He had originally used the word “drummed” at figure 101 in his direction as to how the tremolando was to be secured. I ventured however to point out to him that the word “Thrummed” had a more obvious meaning and expressed exactly the idea he wished to convey. He therefore made the change. At first the orchestra, unaccustomed to such a form of accompaniment, quite failed to obtain the soft shimmer of sound which Elgar required. The tone was hard and “naily” and observing one or two of the Double Basses actually “drumming” the strings I wondered after all whether Elgar had not been right in his choice of word. But after telling the men to put down their bows the tone became lighter and eventually at the performance the effect of the accompaniment of the Cadenza was quite extraordinary. When later Elgar rehearsed the Concerto with the orchestra alone I noticed that he was taking the first movement much slower than when he first played it to me and much slower than the metronome mark (crotchet 100) in the score. The tempo which he actually adopted was (I trust to memory here, for I was not able to test my memory by the metronome until the morning after the performance) crotchet 88. Elgar's first conception of the opening theme was certainly analogous to that of the vigorous and pressing second theme of the first movement of the Symphony, whose metronome mark is crotchet 104. Not only so, but in the last eight bars of the first movement, where the first subject is again brought in, as will be seen from the proof of the Full Score, Elgar marked it Piu Allegro increasing to Presto. But in the course of the rehearsals at Gloucester[,] to which reference has already been made, Kreisler pleaded the importance of a “broad presentment” of the first movement of a new work and Elgar agreed. I remember Kreisler laughingly telling Elgar[,] “You composers never know how to play your own works.” Kreisler also made a few alterations in the solo part with the object of securing greater effectiveness or convenience for the solo instrument. These Elgar sanctioned. One very effective one is at the second bar before figure 47, where the whole of the nine notes before 47 are carried an octave higher. Another effective alteration which Elgar made on Kreisler's representation will be noticed just after figure 96. My proof Score shows the Violin part as it was originally written and without the alterations which Elgar made in the course of his rehearsals with Kreisler. Regarding those rehearsals there is a little incident which is perhaps worth record. Kreisler is an extraordinarily good linguist. But he occasionally uses the word he wants from a foreign language with the pronunciation of the language in which he is speaking for the moment. Thus it was amusing after a long rehearsal and in the midst of a violent passage when he suddenly stopped and said excitedly to Elgar[,] “Sir Edward, I must have a
quart
here,” pronouncing the word as though it were the English liquid measure.

The first rehearsal of the Concerto roused extraordinary enthusiasm among the orchestra, who rose and cheered Elgar and Kreisler at the end of it. On the following morning Elgar did Landon Ronald the honour to ask him to conduct the first movement so that he might hear the effect from the auditorium. I lunched with Elgar at Schuster's after the rehearsal and we strolled after that through the old streets round Westminster. In so far as he touched on the Concerto at all, Elgar's talk was about the fine theme at figure 87. He described it as “ritterlich,” and was pleased to have secured from the orchestra the atmosphere he wanted there. At the performance in the evening the Queen's Hall was packed. It was said that most of the musical celebrities of the country were present. For that I cannot vouch. But I can vouch for the fact, and it is I think remarkable, that in the audience were five of our Cathedral organists, namely Ivor Atkins of Worcester, G. R. Sinclair of Hereford, Herbert Brewer of Gloucester, Dr Bennett of Lincoln, and Tertius Noble of York. Kreisler was certainly nervous during the first movement, but the persistent applause at the end of the movement proved that already the audience had recognised a master-piece. The Andante was superbly played both by Kreisler and the orchestra. Indeed I cannot remember ever to have heard such wonderfully sympathetic accompaniments. During the wonderful Cadenza in the last movement the interest was tense and at the end of the Concerto there was such enthusiasm as I have never before witnessed. There was a long and persistent roar of applause which was continuous for about five minutes and never lessened in volume even when Elgar and Kreisler had escaped from their journeys to the centre of the platform. As usual Elgar tried to put himself in the background and refused to take himself the first applause which followed the end of the work. At length Kreisler himself refused to take the applause for himself and turning to Elgar bowed with a fine air to him. In the Artists room Elgar was again besieged by enthusiastic friends. “You have saved me from this before, can't you do it again?” he said to me. Kreisler was naturally exhausted. His magnificent interpretation of the work was the theme of all. Save at one point his memory did not fail him throughout. His wife, to whom he introduced me, was also clearly very proud and happy.

C. Sanford Terry

November 12, 1910.

1. The Spanish friend was M. Antonio de Navarro, whose wife was the well-known American actress Mary Anderson. The Elgars enjoyed the Navarros' lavish hospitality at Court Farm, Broadway, Worcestershire, on a number of occasions.

2.
The Naiades
concert overture is by the noted British composer William Sterndale Bennett (1816–75).

 

Letter from Charles Sanford Terry to Sir John Marnoch, 1919

Westerton of Pitfodels
By Aberdeen

Sunday [n.d.]

My dear Marnoch,

This is to introduce a volume which has been among my treasures and for that very reason I want to count among yours henceforth. It is the final proof of the Full Score of Elgar's Violin Concerto. Some of the corrections obviously are the proof reader's. The rest are Elgar's holograph. He gave the score to me because, as you will see when you read the typed memorandum bound up with the score, I had been so closely connected with the completion and production of the work. Certain letters of his relating to the Concerto are included, in particular one which definitively dates its completion.

As it stands the volume is a real historical document: the information it contains has never been published and is unknown outside a narrow circle, many of whom already have forgotten much of it, no doubt! Some day it will have to be recorded.

There accompanyies [
sic
] the Score three little water colours of local scenes by a local artist. They bring with them the deep and heartfelt gratitude of us both which strives to express itself in this imperfect form. I can hardly believe that it is only one week tomorrow since we were in your house. But what a deep gulf of relief divides the dates!

Yours ever gratefully,
C. Sanford Terry

I enclose a Hymn written for Maisie Smith's
¹
wedding.

1. Eldest daughter of the Reverend Charles Drew in June 1919. Terry dabbled Professor Sir George Adam Smith, principal in composition from time to time, and besides of Aberdeen University, a close friend of this hymn, his works include published songs Terry's. She married American army officer and anthems, and a comic opera.

 

Letter from Elgar to Charles Sanford Terry, 5 August 1910

Aug 5 1910

Plas Gwyn
Hereford

My dear Terry,

It was good of you to send that cheery wire; we, deleerious devils, were hard at it & we wanted you. This moment I have put the last note to the last movement in the full score & have lit a pipe! Would you were here to join in. We shall play through the concerto at Gloucester & we hope to have an uproarious time: the concerto is (aiblins!) a Dunter. I think you will like it & I only hope something will bring you to London for the 10th Nov
^r
. Couldn't you be turned on to represent the University at the Lord Mayor's Show the day before—or something of that sort? Shall I write to the Senate to suggest this [?]