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Double concerto for violin, violoncello, and orchestra by Frederick Delius : historical context, form… Bottelli, Roberta M. 2014

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  DOUBLE CONCERTO FOR VIOLIN, VIOLONCELLO, AND ORCHESTRA BY FREDERICK DELIUS: Historical context, form, and performance challenges from a cellist’s perspective  by  ROBERTA M BOTTELLI  B.A., University of Puget Sound, 1996 M.M., Central Washington University, 1998 M.A., Eastern Washington University, 2005  A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF  DOCTOR OF MUSICAL ARTS   in   THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE AND POSTDOCTORAL STUDIES  (Music)   THE UNIVERSTIY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA  (Vancouver)   May 2014  ©Roberta M Bottelli, 2014      Abstract  Double Concerto for Violin, Violoncello, and Orchestra by Frederick Delius: Historical context, form and performance challenges from a cellist’s perspective covers different issues related to the Delius Double Concerto, including historical context, the form of the Concerto, and the challenges faced by the soloists when preparing the work for performance, especially from the solo cellist’s perspective.  The History of the Work chapter includes an overview of Delius’ life, how the Double Concerto fits into his compositional output, and background about the performers for whom the work was written, cellist Beatrice Harrison and violinist May Harrison.  The Form and Analysis chapters provide different interpretations of the form of the work, particularly double-function and cyclic form models, and compare the Double Concerto with works with similar formal designs, specifically  the Liszt Sonata in B Minor and the Saint-Saëns Cello Concerto No. 1 in A Minor.  The final chapter addresses the specific challenges faced when performing the Double Concerto, including discrepancies in the score, balance and ensemble issues, and non-idiomatic writing for both soloists.   ii  Preface This thesis is original, unpublished, independent work by the author, R. Bottelli.  It is presented in combination with a lecture and performance of the Delius Double concerto on October 20, 2013, at the University of British Columbia (Vancouver).  Performers were violinist Philip Baldwin, D.M.A., violoncellist Roberta Bottelli and pianist Chiharu Iinuma.    iii  Table of Contents Abstract ............................................................................................................................................ii Preface ............................................................................................................................................ iii Table of Contents ............................................................................................................................ iv List of Tables .................................................................................................................................... v Acknowledgements ......................................................................................................................... vi Dedication ...................................................................................................................................... vii Introduction .................................................................................................................................... 1 Chapter 1, History of the work ....................................................................................................... 8 Chapter 2, Form ............................................................................................................................ 17 Chapter 3, Analysis ........................................................................................................................ 30 Analysis: Introduction ............................................................................................................... 30 Analysis: First Movement Exposition, mm. 1-139 ..................................................................... 30 Analysis: First Movement Development Section: mm 95-139 ................................................. 32 Analysis: Second Movement, Section A: mm. 144-176 ............................................................ 33 Analysis: Second Movement Section B, mm. 177-197 ............................................................. 35 Analysis: Second Movement Section A return, mm. 198-209 .................................................. 36 Analysis: Second Movement Cadenza, mm. 210-236 ............................................................... 37 Analysis: Third Movement ........................................................................................................ 38 Analysis: Third Movement Exposition, mm. 241-314 ............................................................... 38 Analysis: Third Movement Development section, mm. 315-333 ............................................. 39 Analysis: Third Movement Coda, mm. 334-367 ........................................................................ 40 Analysis: Single Movement Form .............................................................................................. 42 Chapter 4, From a Cellist’s Perspective ........................................................................................ 44 Conclusion ..................................................................................................................................... 51 Bibliography .................................................................................................................................. 54  iv  List of Tables Table 2.1    Delius Double Concerto, Three-Movement Structure ............................................... 28 Table 2.2    Delius and Saint-Saëns Saint-Saens Concertos’ Comparitive Structures ................... 29    v  Acknowledgements  I offer my appreciation to the faculty, staff and my fellow students at UBC, who have inspired and challenged me to strive for excellence.  I particularly thank Eric Wilson and Dr. David Metzer for their guidance and assistance, Dr. Philip Baldwin for his collaboration and understanding, and Dr. Tony Flinn and Kendall Feeney for their editing expertise.  My wonderful parents and family have made this journey possible and I owe them a tremendous debt of gratitude.  Special thanks go to my ever patient and encouraging husband, John Bottelli, without whom I never would have taken the first step, and all the later steps, toward this lifelong objective.   vi  Dedication To my husband, John. vii  Introduction Frederick Delius’ Double Concerto for Violin and Violoncello was composed in 1915-16, making it the first significant addition to the genre since the Brahms Double Concerto (1887).  Since its composition, there have been no comprehensive studies of the Delius Double Concerto.  This thesis provides the first detailed discussion of the Delius Double Concerto including a history of the work and its place in Delius’ musical output, an analysis of the Concerto’s form and thematic structures, and addresses the performance challenges from the solo cellist’s perspective.  Chapter 1 provides background surrounding the work’s composition, including the performers for whom the Concerto was composed, where the piece falls in Delius’ compositional output, and the composers and conductors instrumental in championing Delius’ music.  Chapter 2 discusses the form of the piece, other pieces with similar formal structures and how the Concerto layers a multiple movement structure within a single overarching movement.  Chapter 3 discusses aspects of the work’s form in greater detail, including the individual themes and how they interact with each other and with the overall structure of the Concerto.  The thesis ends with a chapter discussing the work from a cellist’s perspective.  Here the topic of performance is discussed, focusing on issues faced by the soloists and orchestra when preparing the work for live performance.  This chapter reflects an effort to dissect the process of execution, especially the challenges involved in performing the solo cello part.  Limited recordings, a lack of previous detailed study and awkward writing for the soloists present specific challenges when creating an effective performance for the audience.  This 1  thesis guides both the potential performer and the potential listener through some of these challenges in order to better understand this remarkable and curious composition. Delius composed the Double Concerto for cellist Beatrice Harrison and her sister, violinist May Harrison.  Understanding the circumstances surrounding the work requires a discussion of Beatrice and May, the instrumentalists whose performances inspired Delius to compose his Double Concerto.  The Harrison sisters’ lives intersect with those of many prominent figures both in the music and history of Britain and Europe during the early twentieth century.  May and Beatrice toured Europe performing the Brahms Double Concerto, their signature work, and Beatrice later toured the United States as a pioneering woman performer.  As is the case with many of Delius’ compositions, the collaboration between composer and performers proved effective as both a means of inspiration and a source of invaluable input in dealing with technical issues.  The friendship that developed between the Harrison sisters and Delius remained a source of inspiration for the composer.  He wrote several more pieces for violin, cello, piano, or string quartet, continuing to collaborate with both May and Beatrice.   The Double Concerto’s form combines a connected three-movement model with a large-scale ternary movement containing elements of sonata form.  The Concerto contains cyclic elements, with melodic structures and fragments unifying the piece through their continued appearance in all three movements and a return of the introduction in the coda of the last movement.  The outer movements follow a modified sonata form and the middle movement a modified ternary form.  Together, they create a large-scale single-movement structure.  Combining the multiple movements within a single movement reflects the principles 2  of double-function form, a term describing a work whose structural elements (melodies, rhythms, and motives) contribute to two formal elements simultaneously.  The Liszt B Minor Sonata provides the best known example of this form, and a brief discussion of the Liszt Sonata is included in Chapter 2.  While Saint-Saëns’ La Muse et le Poète was composed for the same instrumentation as the Delius, the form follows a more free, through-composed structure.  However, Saint-Saëns’ Cello Concerto No. 1 in A Minor is a parallel work to the Delius in both form and genre, although the Saint-Saëns has one soloist where the Delius has two.  Both Concertos contain structural similarities, providing additional material for comparison.  The Double Concerto’s chromatic harmonies and its form provide an example of Delius’ compositional style and his interest in both connecting to the music of the past and expanding music to challenge traditional concerto structures. In the Double Concerto, Delius creates a work with many layers of musical material combined to create a seamless piece that conveys a sense of cyclic return upon first listening. Chapter 3 provides a description and discussion of these elements.  The melodic material throughout the Concerto is analyzed in terms of how it relates to the structure of the piece, both as a large-scale single-movement and a connected three-movement concerto.  The work’s pervasive chromatic harmonies, unstable and ambiguous tonal centers, and the motivic and lyrical characteristics of the melodies are all discussed in further detail.  The ways in which these elements serve to unify the piece and contribute to its form provide the main points for consideration.  The cyclic and the double-function elements mentioned in the Form chapter are analyzed in more detail, specifically where they occur and how they unify the piece.  Both the 3  three-movement and single-movement structures are explored, but the primary focus remains the three-movement form.   The Concerto has the reputation of being awkward for the two soloists, meaning unidiomatic for both solo instruments, and a challenging piece from the standpoint of orchestration.  This thesis includes a discussion of these points, examining the precise nature of the difficulties faced by the performers.  Chapter 4 provides the forum to include the topic of creating a successful performance of the Concerto.  Delius worked closely with May and Beatrice Harrison while composing the Double Concerto, producing a work that reflects this partnership between composer and performers.  A renewed interest in cellist Beatrice Harrison has revived study of these artists and their contribution to the music of the twentieth century.  Beatrice in particular provided a great deal of input to Delius during the Double Concerto’s composition, helping the composer to create a cello part that would work.  Despite her efforts, the cello part contains awkward writing for the instrument.  There are, though, moments of great beauty throughout the work, and Delius gives the solo cello the opportunity to introduce much of the most graceful melodic material in the Concerto.  While the transitions and development sections contain elements of limited effectiveness in terms of compositional craft, the work’s straightforward and simple melodies often create a beautiful texture enjoyed by both the listener and performer. A showcase for the soloists and a piece with many of the aesthetic qualities of a tone poem, Delius’ Concerto fulfills a unique role in the double concerto literature for violin and cello.  Rich orchestral scoring, dramatic moments for the soloists and the dense chromatic harmonies create a work filled with color and rich musical textures.  When compared with the 4  Brahms Double Concerto, the Delius Double Concerto is considered a less worthy example of the genre because of the problematic writing for the soloists and the less extensive development of thematic material.  Delius, however, combines vibrant tone colors, complex Impressionistic harmonies, unified thematic structures, and effective orchestration, creating a compelling musical narrative that merits closer consideration.  There is very little substantive literature about the Delius Double Concerto.  When it is mentioned in biographies of the composer, the piece is regarded as a less significant example of Delius’ work.  Biographers offer little or no analysis, with the exception of Warlock’s brief summary of the form, and they tend to focus more on the Violin Concerto from the same period as a more rewarding example of Delius’ approach to the concerto genre.1  Studies of Delius’ life and compositional style include brief references to the Double Concerto, if it is mentioned at all.  Putting the piece in a larger biographical context provides insights into Delius’ evolving compositional style.  Biographical studies provide a greater understanding of Delius’ compositional output regarding timeline and how the Double Concerto connects with the rest of Delius’ work.  The aforementioned Warlock biography offers a helpful discussion of much of Delius’ orchestral music and provides contextual biographical information.  However Warlock’s discussion is reflective of his own character and his own perspective.  Given Warlock’s singular personality, his Delius biography provides an interesting but subjective source.  In addition to Warlock’s 1 Peter Warlock, Frederick Delius (Plymouth: Mayflower Press, Bodley Head, Ltd., 1923; repr., New York: Oxford University Press, 1952; repr. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1977), citations are to the Greenwood edition. 5                                                       book, Eric Fenby’s book Delius as I Knew Him provides useful biographical information.2  Fenby was a close companion to Delius late in the composer’s life and he served as the composer’s amanuensis from 1928 to 1934.  In that capacity, Fenby was instrumental in cataloguing Delius’ works and helping the composer complete his late works.  Fenby’s book helps to complete the narrative of Delius’ life during the composition of the Double Concerto, but offers little insight into the work itself.  Sir Thomas Beecham’s Delius biography, written at the request of Delius’ widow, contains a similarly dismissive mention of the Double Concerto.  Beecham puts the Double Concerto in the context of the surrounding works by Delius, including the Sonata for Violin and Piano, the Concerto for Violin, and the String Quartet no. 2, all composed during 1915-17.  Concerning the Double Concerto, Beecham writes “Of the three other works the Double Concerto with Orchestra is much the least successful, the composer betraying an obvious inability to handle the violoncello part when it is not playing melodic passages.”3  One particularly detailed work concerning the collaboration of Delius with the Harrison sisters is Beatrice Harrison’s autobiography Beatrice Harrison, The Cello and the Nightingales.4 Editor Patricia Cleveland-Peck compiled and organized Beatrice’s manuscript after the cellist’s death.  The book provides a great deal of information about May and Beatrice and also contains several historic photographs of the Harrison family and also of Delius.  Harrison’s book offers an intimate sketch of the involvement these performers had in the lives of many of their contemporary composers, relationships that are often mentioned in the biographies of these 2 Eric Fenby, Delius as I knew him (London: G. Bell & Sons Ltd., 1936; repr. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), citations are to the Cambridge edition. 3 Sir Thomas Beecham, Frederick Delius (New York: Vienna House, 1959), 174. 4 Beatrice Harrison, The Cello and the Nightingales: the autobiography of Beatrice Harrison, ed. Patricia Cleveland-Peck (London: John Murray (Publishers) Ltd., 1985). 6                                                       composers.  Even so, Harrison’s discussion of the Double Concerto is very brief, providing valuable but not overly detailed insight concerning Delius’ compositional methods.  One can deduce from Beatrice’s account that Delius had little applicable knowledge of the violoncello as an instrument, its capabilities, strengths, and limitations.  The autobiography is somewhat problematic because the editor chose to leave its content basically intact as left by Beatrice, often not providing additional information such as specific dates or historical context. The most extensive discussion of the Double Concerto can be found in an article by John White appearing in the Delius Society’s Journal.5  This article is one in a series discussing Delius’ concertos.  While White covers the form and thematic content of the piece, his article does not directly address the issues relating to the piece as both a single and multiple movement work.  At times he refers to the entire piece being constructed as one movement in sonata form, at other times referring to themes in the “slow movement.”  He describes the Concerto’s thematic content, the derivation of each theme, and their appearances throughout the work.  His discussion hints at the structure and interplay between multiple and single-movement designs, but he does not go into great detail, preferring to focus on the interplay and structure of the themes and defending the work as a well-constructed, easily accessible concerto.  This thesis will provide a clear and concise discussion of the Double Concerto’s form and thematic material as well as addressing how a cellist faces the challenges of the work in performance.5 John White, “The Delius Concertos-A Survey (Part Two: The Double, Violin and ‘Cello Concertos),” the Delius Society Journal, Number 126 (Autumn 1999), 30-38. 7                                                       Chapter 1, History of the work The Double Concerto dates from a time in Delius’ life when he was enjoying some recognition and in relatively good health.  While many of his compositions up to 1915 were large-scale genres like operatic and orchestral works, Delius was beginning to compose more chamber music.  He was also exploring more traditional genres, such as the concerto.  His Piano Concerto (composed, with revised first movement, 1906) was his first attempt to write a solo concerto.  His meeting and hearing the Harrison sisters inspired another effort.   Delius, although not an admirer of Brahms, was greatly impressed by a performance of the Brahms Double Concerto given by sisters May (violinist) and Beatrice (cellist) Harrison with the Halle Orchestra under the direction of Thomas Beecham in 1913.  This performance was part of a European tour during which the Harrison sisters would perform the Brahms Double Concerto over fifty times.  Delius met May and Beatrice after the concert and promised to compose a double concerto of his own for them.   Although Delius composed a Romance for cello and piano in 1896 for Dutch cellist Joseph Holmann, the Double Concerto represented the composer’s first attempt to write a large-scale work featuring the cello in a solo role.  The compositional style and writing for the cello in the 1896 Romance is simple and straightforward.  Delius writes music free of technical challenges and utilizes the high register of the cello almost exclusively throughout the work.  The tendency to avoid the lower register also characterizes Delius’ writing for the cello in the Double Concerto.  Unlike the Romance, the Double Concerto contains more demanding writing 8  for the cello soloist, including technical passage work, double stops, chords, and false harmonics.  In her memoir The Cello and the Nightingales, Beatrice Harrison describes her first experience with Delius’ Double Concerto in this way: The strange thing was that it was written in unison and technically was almost impossible to play but with Delius himself and Peter Heseltine at the piano, we rewrote the cello part and made it playable… Heseltine banged out the orchestral part, while I, hot and anxious, played each passage over and over again until Delius was satisfied that it corresponded perfectly with the violin.  All this took weeks but at last it was finished.6   This observation by Beatrice speaks to Delius’ unfamiliarity with the violoncello and its capabilities as a solo instrument.  It is also apparent that Delius relied heavily on Beatrice to create the solo cello part.  Even with this intense revision, the best Beatrice could say about the part was that it was “playable.” The Double Concerto was composed in 1915-17, but World War I delayed its premiere until Beatrice and May Harrison gave the first performance in January 1920 in London on a Queen’s Hall Symphony concert conducted by Sir Henry J. Wood.  The date of composition places this work in the middle of Delius’ compositional output.  During this time in his life, he was composing instrumental works based on more traditional genres and forms, including his Violin Concerto (1916), a Violin and Piano Sonata (1915), and a String Quartet (1916-17). Delius went on to compose the Sonata for Cello and Piano (1917) and his first Cello Concerto (1921) for Beatrice, continuing their collaboration.  The composer remained close friends with Beatrice throughout his life. 6 Harrison, 104. 9                                                       Delius was born in Yorkshire, England, on January 29, 1862.  His early years were spent in Britain where his German-born parents had previously relocated and raised their family.  He was one of fourteen children.  The family wool business created a stable and prosperous home and Frederick Delius (born Fritz, a name he would use for much of his early adult life) was given piano and violin lessons.  While the Delius children were expected to go into the family business, they were encouraged to pursue music as a source of personal enrichment rather than as a vocation.  Frederick attended the International College at Isleworth from 1878-1880, enjoying the institution’s proximity to the rich musical culture of London.7  Though he grudgingly obeyed his father’s wishes and joined the family wool business, Frederick proved an uninspired businessman, enjoying the benefits of travel that his career allowed while never committing to the work.  Music was a source of inspiration, but Frederick Delius was not ready to defy his father and turn his back on a living in order to pursue his musical studies independent of his family.  He traveled to Norway and France for his work, places to which he was drawn throughout his life and which influenced his music.  Frederick’s biggest first step toward a musical career came when he persuaded his father to let him relocate to an orange plantation in Florida, where the composer could be farther from his father’s supervision.  His time in Florida, 1884-1885, brought musical study (with an organist named Thomas F. Ward) and a stronger conviction for Frederick to lobby his family for a change in career from business to music.  When his brother Ernst arrived to take over the family’s interests in Florida, Frederick took the opportunity to move to Danville, Virginia to teach music.  He became an instant success, further strengthening his resolve to pursue the career his father felt was too 7 Beecham, 19. 10                                                       unpredictable to provide his son with a stable life.8  When his father, Julius, learned of Frederick’s success as a music teacher, he reluctantly agreed to fund his son’s musical education in Leipzig, Germany.  As a condition of this agreement, Frederick was to return to America after graduation to continue his teaching in the New World.9  While he did return to Europe to attend university in Leipzig, Frederick never permanently relocated to America, thus breaking his agreement with his parents. In 1888 he received a degree from the Königliches Konservatorium der Musik zu Leipzig where he also formed a lasting friendship with Edward Grieg, an influential figure in Delius’ life and music.  After conservatory, Delius moved to Paris where he enjoyed more personal and artistic freedom, choosing to surround himself with authors and artists.  He contracted syphilis during this early time in Paris, a disease that crippled him in later life.  In Paris he was supported by his uncle and, although actively composing, his music was still not known in Paris.  An 1899 performance of Delius’ works given at St. James’ Hall in London under the direction of German conductor Alfred Hertz, first presented Delius’ music to British audiences.  A 1907 performance of his Appalachia (composed in 1896 as an orchestral work, revised for orchestra and voices in 1904) conducted by Fritz Cassiser in London introduced English conductor Sir Thomas Beecham to the composer’s music, moving the conductor to become a lifelong champion of Delius.  When he was composing the Double Concerto in 1915-17, Delius’ music was gaining notoriety in Germany, and Sir Thomas Beecham had begun championing his music in Great Britain.  Although Delius was born in Britain, his parents were German and he spent much of his life 8 Beecham, 32. 9 Ibid, 33. 11                                                       living and composing elsewhere around Europe, leading to his popularity taking hold in Germany before he was known in England.   Delius married German artist Jelka Rosen in 1897, and they moved to her home in the French village of Grez-sur-Loing where he lived most of the rest of his life.  During World War I they moved to Britain, where Delius continued composing, and Delius began showing symptoms of physical illness.  Because his music was not often performed, the years 1900-1920 were lean ones for Frederick and Jelka.  Thomas Beecham helped support them and organized performances of Delius’ music.  Jelka sold their house to a musically sympathetic benefactor who let them live rent-free.  Through the efforts of Beecham and Philip Heseltine (aka Peter Warlock), festivals of Delius’ music provided the composer with both recognition and much-needed income.  The last chapter of Delius’ life brought limited mobility and blindness.  Jelka helped him with his compositions as best she could, but the most significant help came from Eric Fenby, a young English man who volunteered to serve as an unpaid amanuensis for the composer.  With Fenby’s assistance, Delius was able to continue composing and reworking his music from 1928-32.  Delius died in 1934 and wished to be buried in his garden at Grez.  This wish was not legally permissible, and Delius was buried in the Grez cemetery.  When Jelka’s health permitted travel, Delius’ body was later moved to Surrey, which had been his second wish for burial location if he was unable to be granted the first.  During the journey, Jelka became ill and passed away two days after her husband was permanently laid to rest.  Frederick and Jelka were buried in the same grave.  When Beecham passed away, he was buried very close to the Deliuses. 12  May, Beatrice, Margaret, and Monica Harrison were sisters, all musically inclined and living in Britain during the first half of the twentieth century.  While May and Beatrice Harrison are no longer counted among the great names of performing musicians of the early twentieth century, during their time they were considered two of the most prominent performers in England.  Beatrice Harrison was particularly well regarded and Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto became a well-known and popular work due largely to Beatrice’s collaboration with Elgar in both recording and performing the piece.10  Beatrice and her sister May were crucial participants in Thomas Beecham’s efforts to promote the music of Delius throughout Europe, performing works written for them by the composer, including the Double Concerto.  The names of May and Beatrice Harrison are forever linked with the string music of Delius and, to a lesser extent, that of John Ireland and Edward Elgar. May Harrison was born in 1890 and Beatrice Harrison was born in 1892 while the family lived in India.  They were the daughters of Annie Harrison and John Harrison, a military colonel and mathematician.  Though not a musician himself, John supported his wife in her efforts to develop their children’s musical talents and interests.11  May and Beatrice’s mother Annie devoted her life to making sure her children were able to study with some of the most respected teachers and performers of their time, May with Hungarian violinist Leopold Auer and Beatrice with German cellist Hugo Becker.  Before studying with Auer, May benefited from Becker’s lessons with Beatrice, with both sisters attending lessons together and learning from Becker’s instruction.12  May’s musical development continued rapidly, and she became a 10 Harrison, 26. 11 Ibid, 34. 12 Ibid, 21. 13                                                       prominent performer in Britain and throughout Europe, studying with Auer in St Petersburg, later moving to London and recording the violin sonatas of Delius and Arnold Bax.  Auer was so confident in May’s abilities that he recommended her as a last minute substitute for Fritz Kreisler at a performance in a Mendelssohn festival in 1909 in Finland.  This experience proved both difficult and triumphant for May.  Annie was suffering from cholera, an epidemic in Russia at the time, and while caring for her mother before their departure for Finland, May’s face was badly burned when she tried to extinguish a fire caused by a sputtering lamp.13  Though she was seriously injured (her doctor recommended she not travel to Finland for the festival) and her mother was gravely ill, May, Annie, and May’s younger sister Margaret decided to bandage May up and travel to the festival, where May’s performance was received with enthusiasm.14  While May asserted a small degree of independence from her family, eventually moving from Russia to London to pursue and manage her career, she remained very closely connected with her mother and collaborated often in performances with her sisters, especially with Beatrice.   Of the four sisters, Beatrice’s talents and studies brought her the widest acclaim, success, and performance opportunities.  Edward Elgar became a supporter of Beatrice and after he worked with her, he insisted that she perform as the soloist whenever he conducted his Cello Concerto.  In 1910, Beatrice won the Mendelssohn Prize, a competition held in Germany open to any musician who had ever studied at a German university.  She was the youngest participant ever to win the prize and also the first cellist.15  Beatrice was a good friend to Princess Victoria of the United Kingdom (younger sister of King George V), a friendship that 13 Harrison, 64. 14 Ibid, 64. 15 Ibid, 74. 14                                                       profoundly influenced both women.  Victoria was a musician and enjoyed playing music with all of the Harrison sisters over their lifetimes, helping to maintain a close personal and informal relationship with the British royal family.  Many British composers worked with May and Beatrice over the years, writing works for the sisters and performing and recording with them.  Their relationship with Delius proved especially long and fruitful, contributing to the composers’ acclaim and the sisters’ having several new works to perform and record.  Delius remained friends with the Harrison sisters until his death in 1934, the same year Annie Harrison passed away.  When Delius’ remains reached their final resting place in Surrey, Beatrice attended his memorial service.16 Beatrice enjoyed a long life as a respected performer.  Her career spanned the beginnings of modern recording and radio broadcast technology, giving her the opportunity to record the works of the most respected British composers of the early twentieth century.  She participated in a series of very popular radio broadcasts in which she was recorded in her garden playing her cello with nightingales singing in the background.  While later recording technicians have brought the authenticity of these recordings into question, they were very popular among radio listeners in Britain during the 1920’s.  In 1915, shortly after completing the Brahms Double Concerto European tour, Beatrice embarked on an American tour where she became the first female cellist to perform with the Boston and Chicago Symphony Orchestras and became the first female cellist to perform in Carnegie Hall.17  Beatrice returned to America in 1926, performing Delius’ Cello Concerto and Cello Sonata as well as the Sonata for Cello and Piano by Zoltan Kodály.  While the Kodály work was welcomed with enthusiasm, 16 Harrison, 156. 17 Ibid, 94. 15                                                       the Delius Concerto was not well received.  Beatrice felt this was due to unconvinced conductors, in particular Fritz Reiner with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Willem Mengelberg in New York.18  Both conductors expressed reservations about the work, in particular Mengelberg, who felt the Concerto lacked a sufficient dramatic climax.  Even Beatrice, who loved the serenity of the piece, felt that some of the musical lines would be better suited to the woodwinds.19  Beatrice owned and played a Pietro Guarnari cello throughout her life, an instrument that was admired and praised by audiences.18 Harrison, 141. 19 Ibid, 141. 16                                                       Chapter 2, Form The Delius Double Concerto for Violin and Cello can be heard as both a single-movement work and a piece in three connected movements, belying a more complex structure than seems apparent at first glance.  Smooth transitions connect three contrasting movements, blurring the boundaries for the listener.  The discussion below draws upon two formal models developed by scholars to describe such structures: cyclic and double-function forms.  This chapter explores each of these two interpretations, including comparisons with works containing similar interconnected structures in order to better understand how the audience experiences the piece.  The two works provided for comparison are the Saint-Saëns Cello Concerto in A Minor, a work with a comparable formal structure composed during Delius’ lifetime, and the Liszt Sonata in B Minor, considered a definitive example of double-function form.  This discussion of the form of the Concerto includes a study of the piece from both the single-movement and connected multiple-movement perspectives   The conventional layout of a concerto is a three-movement design of fast-slow-fast movements. In this model, the first movement is typically set in sonata form; the second movement is in a contrasting form (often a ternary form) with a slower tempo; and the final movement is in a faster tempo and typically employs a sonata, rondo, or theme and variations forms.  The Delius Concerto loosely conforms to this design, with some significant deviations.  One such deviation occurs in the first movement, which is a modified sonata form ending with the development section instead of proceeding to the recapitulation.  The first movement’s development section serves as a transition to the second movement.  Typical of a central slow 17  movement, the second movement is in ternary form, concluding with an accompanied cadenza that moves seamlessly into the third movement.  The third movement consists of a substantive return of material from the first movement, but it replaces the earlier development section with a coda containing thematic material from the second movement.  While there are three connected sections that can be heard as distinct movements, the work also functions as a large-scale single-movement ternary form with a closing section.  The similarity of the first and third movements, the seamless transitions between movements, and the return of thematic material from the first movement throughout the Concerto strengthens the argument for a single-movement structure.  By the time he composed the Double Concerto, Delius was an accomplished composer of large-scale, single-movement orchestral works, such as the tone poems Over the Hills and Far Away (1895), Life’s Dance (1911) and On Hearing the First Cuckoo of Spring (1912).  Even though these works are programmatic and the Double Concerto is not, the smooth transitions and seamless connections between the Concerto’s movements build upon the structural approaches in Delius’ tone poems.  While the performers are aware of the individual movements within the Concerto, these divisions are very subtle for the listener.  I believe that the audience experiences the first hearing of this work as a single movement rather than as three distinct but connected movements, reflecting a greater complexity of form than is apparent on the surface.   To discuss the dual construction of the Concerto, I will draw upon two relevant formal models.  The first is cyclic form, or the cyclic principle, and it involves the appearance of the 18  same melodic material in multiple movements of a work.20  This recurrence creates audible links between the sections.  The unification of a piece by recurring melodic elements occurring throughout separate movements became increasingly common during the nineteenth century.21  In his definition of cyclic form, Macdonald describes a trend in the works of Mendelssohn, Schumann, Liszt, Berlioz, and Franck to create greater unity in large-scale works through the use of cyclic forms.  He also states that the cyclic principle is strongest in pieces where the opening material returns at the end of the piece.22  The return of the opening phrase during the closing section of the final movement of the Delius reinforces this type of connection, bringing the listener full circle.   The second relevant formal model is “double-function” form.  It applies to a work containing musical material that contributes to the impression of two formal structures simultaneously unfolding.23  English music critic Ernest Newman coined the term when describing Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor, and its use has been henceforth connected to that piece.24  Steven Vande Moortele uses the more specific term “two-dimensional sonata form” to describe the ways in which returning musical elements within a piece (motives, melodies or melodic fragments) unify the structure of a single-movement sonata form within a larger connected multi-movement over-arching structure.  In two-dimensional sonata form, thematic material from the first movement of a work not only appears in a later movement, creating an audible 20 Douglass M. Green, Form in Tonal Music: An Introduction to Analysis, Second Edition (Fort Worth: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1979), 181. 21 Hugh Macdonald, "Cyclic form,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, Oxford University Press, (accessed December 3, 2013).  22 Ibid. 23 Alan Walker, et al, "Liszt, Franz,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, Oxford University Press, accessed December 3, 2013, 24 Steven Vande Moortele, Two-Dimensional Sonata Form: Form and Cycle in Single-Movement Instrumental Works by Liszt, Strauss, Schoenberg, and Zemlinsky (Leuven, Belgium: Leuven University Press, 2009), 35. 19                                                       connection, but simultaneously contributes to a large-scale single-movement sonata structure.  The connected movements within a two-dimensional sonata form contain specific characteristics of exposition, development, and recapitulation not only within the individual movements, but within the piece as a whole.  Both double-function and cyclic forms unify a work through returning musical materials, but the reappearance of thematic material in cyclic form may or may not contribute to an additional over-arching formal structure.   The Delius Concerto is a cyclic work because of the recurring melodic material unifying the piece and the return of the opening introduction at the end of the last movement, but it also contains elements of double-function form being heard as sonata form overall with sonata form structures in movements one and three.   The freedom with which nineteenth and early twentieth-century composers treated the elements of Classical sonata form led to many such works with interconnected structures, and Moortele upholds Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor (1854) as the first fully developed example of double-function form.  There has been much discussion about the Sonata’s form, including differing opinions about the number of movements (between three and five) and the placement of section divisions.25  Moortele traces the roots of the form of the Sonata back to “the nineteenth-century tendency towards cyclic integration of the different movements in multi-movement instrumental compositions.”26  He discusses Schumann’s Fourth Symphony as a precursor to the Liszt, an example of Schumann moving toward two-dimensional sonata form.  Schumann’s Symphony shares characteristics not only with the Liszt Sonata (a work dedicated to Schumann) but also with the Delius Concerto, namely connected movements with shared 25 Moortele, 37. 26 Ibid, 35. 20                                                       thematic material and the lack of a recapitulation in the first movement.27  Moortele also mentions the connection between the structure of Schubert’s Wanderer Fantasy (1822) and the form of Liszt’s Sonata.  The Schubert, Liszt, and Schumann works provide examples of a more free treatment of sonata form elements by late nineteenth-century composers and their exploration of creating larger connections between the musical elements found within traditional sonata forms. Moortele sums up the two-dimensional sonata form of the Liszt in the following way: The first movement of the sonata cycle is identified with the exposition of the overarching sonata form, and its scherzo and finale with the recapitulation and the coda.  The slow interior movement, by contrast, is interpolated between the development and the recapitulation of the overarching sonata form.  The development section and the return of the slow introduction between the slow movement and the scherzo are exocyclic units that belong exclusively to the overarching sonata form.28  Mooretele is describing how the individual movements of the Liszt Sonata contain musical material simultaneously contributing to the structures of the single movements and the connected overarching sonata form.   One characteristic that Schumann’s Symphony No. 4, Schubert’s Wanderer Fantasy, Liszt’s B Minor Sonata, Delius’ Double Concerto, and Saint-Saëns Cello Concerto No. 1 have in common is the lack of a recapitulation within the first movement.  Moortele explains this phenomenon as providing a need for resolution that is later fulfilled in the finale where the first movement returns.  In discussing the Schumann Symphony, Moortele states: “More specifically, the first movement is not formally closed and thus creates an openness to which the finale 27 Moortele, 36. 28 Ibid, 37. 21                                                       responds.”29  He talks about the problem of recapitulation in a two-dimensional sonata form, meaning a recapitulation must both resemble and differ from the exposition in a way that strengthens the single-movement structure.30  Schumann’s Symphony returns to thematic material from the development section of the first movement and this material becomes the main theme of the last movement.  Schubert’s Wanderer Fantasy provides an altered return of the first movement, but the thematic return is in a different key from the first movement and when the tonic key returns, the theme is altered significantly.31  Moortele describes these two works as being close to two-dimensional sonata form.  Where the Liszt differs is in the recapitulation.  With his interpretation of the Sonata’s inner movement structure, Moortele postulates that the Liszt Sonata’s recapitulation fulfills his criteria more than do the Schumann and Schubert works, including return of all themes in the tonic key.  This reinforcement of tonic harmony gives Liszt’s finale the distinct feeling of recapitulation verses restatement.32 The Delius Double Concerto is not as complex of an example of double-function form as the Liszt Sonata, but the Double Concerto still overlays two different formal designs in intricate ways.  Where the Liszt Sonata layers two sonata forms, Delius combines two organizational principles, a more traditional concerto layout containing sonata form elements within the outer movements and a modified large-scale ternary form.  Where Liszt extensively develops melodic material throughout his Sonata, returning themes in the Delius are simply restated, sometimes in sequence.  In addition, the Liszt contains more complex development procedures including an emphasis on thematic transformation as an element of its cyclic form.  The Delius contains 29 Moortele, 36. 30 Ibid, 53. 31 Ibid, 37. 32 Ibid, 55. 22                                                       no thematic transformation.   Unity within the structure is instead created through varied repetition.  Through contrasting instrumentation and voicings, the switching of the soloists’ roles, the inclusion of thematic material from the second movement, and by placing the return of the Concerto’s introduction in the closing section of the last movement coda, Delius varies the return of the A section within the large-scale ternary form, creating a piece with strong cyclic elements instead of simple repetition.   The return of the first movement’s musical material in the last movement provides at least the suggestion of a recapitulation within an overarching single-movement sonata form.  Ultimately this reading of the Concerto is undermined by the absence of a clear development section and also a return that lacks some of the characteristics of a recapitulation, particularly the restatement of all themes in the tonic key.  Thematic material from the first movement returns in the last movement but in different keys, lessening the feeling of strong tonic return.  This is also one way Delius modifies the ternary form, contributing to the ways in which the last movement achieves a very similar but not literal return of the first movement.  Other changes include the addition of material from the second movement near the end of the third movement and the reappearance of the introductory theme during the closing section of the coda.  While the overall scheme is evocative of both sonata and ternary forms, the Delius concerto deviates from both models, a characteristic it shares with the Saint-Saëns Cello Concerto in A minor. The Saint-Saëns Concerto provides a particularly relevant example for comparison given the parallels of form and genre.  The work was composed in 1872 for Belgian cellist Auguste Tolbecque and was well received at its premiere in 1873.  There are pronounced similarities 23  between the forms of the two works.  Both Concertos connect three distinct movements, the first of which ends with a development section transitioning into the second movement.33  The first movements of both works follow loose sonata forms, and the second movements are set in modified ternary forms.  The transition sections between the first and second movements of both pieces wind down the harmonic and melodic energy of the first movements by changing the character of the music from frenetic to calm, setting the stage for the beginning of the second movements.  At the end of the second movement of the Saint-Saëns, a solo cadenza and a brief return of the opening theme of the movement provide a transition into the third movement.  This transition is somewhat similar to the Double Concerto’s accompanied cadenza and the elision of the second and third movements.  As in Delius’ work, Saint-Saëns’ third movement begins with a restatement of thematic material from the first movement, but where Delius’ last movement continues with close parallels to the first movement, the Saint-Saëns contains a more free return, ending with new material.  Cadenzas occur in the second movements of both works and neither Concerto features extended cadenzas in the outer movements.  The Delius Concerto is more easily heard as a single structure, but the divisions between the movements of the Saint-Saëns Concerto are sharper, creating more clearly defined individual movements.  Both the Delius and the Saint-Saëns conclude with codas that modulate from the minor key of the opening movement to the parallel major key.   Delius was eleven years old at the time of the Saint-Saëns Concerto’s premiere, and it is not known if he heard a performance of the work before composing the Double Concerto.  33 Some analyses of the Saint-Saëns Concerto label the movements as sections within a single-movement sonata structure, including Michael Stegemann’s book Camille Saint-Saens and the French Solo Concerto from 1850-1920 (p. 60).   24                                                       There is no evidence that he was familiar with the piece.  As mentioned earlier, there was a growing interest in works with cyclic or double-function structures during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.  Both the Delius and Saint-Saens Concertos provide examples of these models applied to the concerto genre, an adaptation of the conventional concerto model.  Delius’ Double Concerto and First Piano Concerto reflect his interest in exploring this model when composing non-programmatic works.  Delius ultimately shifted his compositional focus away from these models and the formal structures of his two later concertos (Violin Concerto, 1916 and Cello Concerto, 1921) are freer in nature. Peter Warlock provides another formal model, discussing the basic structure of the Double Concerto as conforming to what he calls “phantasy form.”  According to Warlock, this form consists of “a short introduction, a brief first movement with two subjects but little development, a slow movement followed by an abbreviated return to the first movement, and an independent finale”.34  While Warlock refers to this form, he gives no specific examples for further comparison or discussion other than the brief mention that Delius’s later concertos all follow this structure.  This seems to be a formal model that Warlock has put forward, but by Warlock’s own definition, the Delius Double Concerto only loosely conforms to the phantasy form.  For example, the first movement of the Delius is a substantial section of the work in which several distinct but related themes are introduced and developed.  In addition, the return of the first movement at the end of the piece is only slightly abbreviated, containing all of the thematic material from the first movement although the development section is shortened.  There is no “independent finale” but rather a coda containing the return and 34 Warlock, 122. 25                                                       resolution of the second theme from the second movement as well as a transposition of the Introduction from C minor to C major.  All of these deviations would suggest that the Delius Concerto does not conform to the phantasy form outlined by Warlock.  The term “phantasy” as it relates to British chamber music of the early twentieth century can be traced back to Walter Willson Cobbett, an amateur violinist and patron of the arts.35  Cobbett belonged to a society called the “Worshipful Company of Musicians”, a British musical society that has existed since the sixteenth century and whose current role in British musical circles consists mainly of sponsoring musical competitions.36  One such competition was created in 1905 by Cobbett, who invited British composers to create something called a ‘phantasy’ string quartet.37  An old English spelling of “fantasia”, Cobbett’s original concept for the ‘phantasy’ was meant as a reimagining of the viol fantasias from sixteenth and seventeenth century music.38  The parameters of the form were loosely defined, basically a single movement work of somewhat modest length with connected, contrasting sections (between three to five sections, it seems).  The requirements for the prize included composing for specified ensembles such as a string quartet and piano and strings.  In addition to the composers who won the prizes, Cobbett commissioned pieces in ‘phantasy’ form from Frank Bridge, Vaughan Williams, 35 Frank Howes and Christina Bashford, "Cobbett, Walter Willson,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, Oxford University Press, (accessed December 3 2013). 36 Henry Raynor, "Worshipful Company of Musicians,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, Oxford University Press, (accessed December 3, 2013). 37 Howes and Bashford. 38 Christopher D.S. Field, "Phantasy,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, Oxford University Press, (accessed December 3, 2013). 26                                                       and many others, making this a prominent form in British chamber music of the early twentieth century.39    In many regards, the Double Concerto does not conform to Cobbett’s idea of phantasy form.  The work is not a chamber music piece.  The soloists are accompanied by a full symphony orchestra, complete with brass and percussion, connecting the work with late Romantic era concertos.  The Cobbett model of ‘phantasy’ also suggests a piece of “modest length”.  The Delius is between twenty-five and thirty minutes in duration, hardly to be considered “modest length”.  Warlock does not list any other large-scale orchestral pieces that match the ‘phantasy’ form definition, nor does he list any specific works at all, so we are left to speculate.  Without clearly defined parameters providing a means for comparison with other single-movement orchestral works it is difficult to find examples of how the Delius Double Concerto represents this form.       39 Field. 27                                                       Table 2.1  28  Table 2.2  29  Chapter 3, Analysis Analysis: Introduction My analysis of the Double Concerto focuses on its thematic and harmonic structures.  I will include a detailed analysis of the work in the three-movement layout and also an abbreviated discussion of the piece as a single-movement work. Analysis: First Movement, Exposition, mm. 1-139  The following analysis appears in the context of a connected three-movement work.   Table 2.1 provides a visual summary of the themes and basic structure of the piece.  The first movement follows an abbreviated sonata form, which includes an exposition and a development section with no recapitulation.  The movement begins with the Introduction (mm 1-14) that presents the Introductory theme (mm 1-2) and establishes C minor as the tonic.  The introductory theme (m 2) features a dotted rhythm that is further developed when the soloists enter in m 9 with the solo violin elaborating a brief cadenza (mm 9-14) that highlights this rhythmic figure.  The dotted rhythm plays a prominent role in the development section and appears again in the transition between the second and third movements where it is transformed into a grace-note figure.    Subsequent themes draw upon the dotted figure, including the Transition theme, the Development theme, and the fourth theme (the first theme of the second movement).  In this way, the opening measures of the piece provide a unifying motive for the entire Concerto.  After a fermata in m 15, the solo violin introduces the first extended theme of the piece (in C minor), accompanied by the cello soloist and winds.  Delius expands this theme, arriving in B minor for the Transition theme in measure 37 stated by the 30  solo violin.  The theme elongates the dotted rhythm of the introductory theme.  The orchestra accompanies the theme with triplets against duplets, creating a sense of rhythmic instability not present in the first theme.  Following the entrance of Transition theme, Delius departs from the conventional sonata form layout with a reappearance of the first theme in the solo cello (E minor, m 44) and the soloists’ subsequent development of that theme.  Measures 15-67 move through several keys, none of which is clearly defined, creating the harmonic flux typical of the chromaticism present throughout the work.  In m 68, the orchestra introduces the second theme, which White describes as having a march-like quality.40  The key of the second theme is not clearly defined. There is an initial pitch center of E flat in the melody (stated by the violins in the orchestra) and concluding in G sharp minor in measure 75.41  The soloists enter in m. 76 playing an accompaniment figure over the second theme in the bassoon and clarinet.  This accompaniment figure includes the dotted rhythm from the Transition theme, here stated by the solo violin in m 76.  At this moment, the tonality settles uneasily into D sharp minor which continues through the statement of the theme by the solo cello (m 84).  The first statement of the Second Theme by either soloist is in the cello line in measure 84 in a tenuous D sharp minor.  The exposition ends with a slowing of the tempo, a gradual reduction of the dynamic level, and a quiet variant of the First Theme in mm 92-94 in the orchestra.  40 White, 30. 41 In the published orchestral score, the key established in m. 75 is G sharp major whereas the key established in the piano reduction is A flat major.  The accidentals in the piano reduction score continue in flats through m. 91 where the enharmonic sharps are present in the orchestral score.  This is just one such example; there are others throughout the two scores. 31                                                       Analysis: First Movement, Development Section: mm 95-139 A single measure motive begins in m 95, first stated by the solo violin and then by the solo cello, marking the beginning of the development section.  This motive, labeled “Development Theme” in the analysis diagram, also signals the beginning of a wandering, awkward passage for the soloists during which the motive is passed between instruments and throughout the orchestra.  The Development Theme is derived from the first theme, essentially embellishing first theme and connecting the intervals with dotted rhythmic figures, thus also combining a rhythmic diminution of the Transition Theme.  In mm. 100-103, there are crossing rhythms of triplet, duple, quadruple, and sextuplets between the orchestra and soloists while melodic fragments of the First Theme and Development Theme weave throughout the score, creating a thick texture in which many voices are competing for attention.  In m 104, the Development Theme is stated again in the solo violin, followed by the cello, this time accompanied by triplets in the orchestra.  In mm 107-113, the texture continues to thicken, with more instruments playing more prominent and independent rhythmic and melodic figures. The cello introduces a melodic figure in mm 113-117, doubled in the English horn, derived from the Development Theme but distinct enough to merit attention.  While the entrance is somewhat buried in the texture, its appearance in both the cello and English horn gives it more significance.  This brief thematic figure returns in the last movement in a somewhat altered form and plays a more dramatic and prominent role.  A version of the First Theme appears in mm 118-123 moving back and forth between the soloists.  An awkward and technically challenging spot, the accompaniment figures traded between violin and cello during this section prove very difficult to execute gracefully while getting out of the way of the 32  melody.  Here the brass, harp, and minimally the bassoon and timpani, provide a subdued background of pianissimo whole note chords, allowing the solo lines to dominate the texture with relative ease.  The degree of chromaticism increases in mm. 124-132 while the soloists alternate measures between playing in octaves with each other and in triplet verses sixteenth note rhythmic opposition.  This creates a jumble of sounds with little harmonic or rhythmic stability.  Against this texture in the solo parts, the orchestra interjects with a one-measure statement of the First Theme followed by another single-measure of cross-rhythms in the soloists.  During mm. 133-139, the harmonies fragment into a series of chromatically descending chords, creating a sense of structural instability and winding down in dynamics and tempo while leading seamlessly into the second movement. Analysis: Second Movement, Section A: mm. 144-176 The second movement follows a ternary form with two main themes.  Section A begins with the first themes of the second movement (labeled “Fourth Theme” in Tables 2.1 and 2.2) introduced in abbreviated form by the French horn and English horn in mm. 140-143, and in m. 144 the solo cello states the theme in full (mm. 144-47).  The cello statement is clearly in G major, making this theme the first well-defined, harmonically stable, clearly structured melody of the concerto, creating a clear division of the second movement from the first.  The theme begins with four bars from which all of this theme’s subsequent thematic development stems.  This phrase covers a small range, falling in the middle range of the cello, a range often associated with the human voice.  The rhythmic simplicity and vocal quality of this theme establish a nostalgic, folk-melody inspired atmosphere.   33  Following the statement in the cello, the soloists present the theme in dialogue (mm. 148-64).  This dialogue presents a much more chromatic treatment of the theme, although the harmony remains centered on G.  Delius increases the range of the cello line by moving the melody into the high treble upper register.  While the primary melody could still be considered to be in the cello line, the melodic figures in the violin are of equal significance, further increasing the complexity of the melodic development. The theme is taken up by the solo violin (mm. 163-72), now accompanied by similar but varied melodic material in the cello.  Following this elaboration of the first theme of the second movement, there is a brief transition to the B section during which we hear a return of material from the first movement.  In m. 173, the flute enters with the dotted rhythm and thematic material from the second measure of the first movement, followed in m. 174 by the same figure in the oboe.  Neither soloist reintroduces any material from the first movement until the violin grace notes in m. 215 in the accompanied cadenza, where the dotted rhythm motive from the second measure of the piece is implied but not directly stated.  The entrance in m. 173 of thematic material from the opening of the piece creates a transition to the B section.   The recurrence of the dotted rhythm from the Introduction of the piece reinforces the cyclic principle uniting the thematic material of the Concerto.  This rhythmic pattern is easily recognizable and appears throughout the piece, serving to unify melodies (introductory theme, development theme, and first theme of the second movement) and to add depth to accompaniment figures.  In addition to recurring melodies, this rhythm adds to the structural unity, creating a musical element that is both familiar and able to be applied to a variety of different contexts. 34  Analysis: Second Movement, Section B, mm. 177-197 Section B begins with the entrance of the second theme of the second movement (labeled “Fifth Theme” in Tables 2.1 and 2.2), stated first by the solo violin (mm. 177-179).  When this theme is introduced, the active cello accompaniment figure creates a sense of unease not felt in subsequent appearances of the theme with a more static accompaniment.  Although the key established by this entrance is clearly D major in m. 177, the underlying chord is a second inversion D major chord with an A pedal (mm. 177-183 and again mm. 187-189), creating the anticipation of a strong D major arrival that never occurs.  The melody is slow, expansive, and rhythmically simple compared with the other themes of the piece.  Subsequent statements of this theme create a sense of calm supported by the tonality present in the accompaniment.  The theme plays a prominent role in the last movement, changing a nearly literal repeat of the first movement into a more effective and distinct final movement.    While the theme is three measures long, Delius expands the melody through repetition and sequence in mm. 177-195.  In this section, each measure of the three-measure theme provides material for development.  Following the initial solo violin statement of the theme in mm. 177-179, Delius begins the theme again in the solo cello in m. 179 and both soloists finish this thematic entrance in octaves mm. 180-183.  The first measure (m. 177) of the theme is played in a sequence (mm. 184-186), during which the dynamic level increases to fortissimo followed by a dramatic subito mezzo piano (m. 187).  With the exception of m. 185, these octaves continue through m. 192, creating a dramatic presentation of this theme that builds momentum.   Mm. 177-192 contain very little harmonic motion and simple, mostly static accompaniment figures, setting this melody apart from all the previous melodic material in the 35  piece.  The significant roll this melody plays in the third movement is foreshadowed by its introduction here as a simple, effective, powerful melody with a great deal of dramatic weight.   Mm. 193-195 present fragments of the theme with the accompanying busy rhythmic figures being passed between the soloists, changing the mood of the preceding measures.  A jumble of two against three, contrary melodic motion, and chromaticism in mm. 196-197 dissipate the energy and dramatic momentum created in mm. 180-192.  Much of the frenetic activity happens in the solo lines, along with the clarinet, creating a brief and somewhat awkward transition to the return of section A in mm. 193.   Analysis: Second Movement, Section A return, mm. 198-209  Section A returns with the solo violin statement of the Fourth Theme in mm. 198-203.  This thematic return is accompanied by the solo cello with a kind of counter melody using similar melodic material, creating a texture reminiscent of mm. 163-172.  Where the first statement of the Fourth Theme in mm. 144-147 is relatively straightforward in terms of both harmony and accompaniment, the return in mm. 198-201 is more complex, with the counter melody in the cello creating a sense of forward motion not present in the first statement.  In mm. 202-203 the soloists trade melodic elements with the solo cello taking over using material from the Fourth Theme in mm. 204-208 while the violin accompanies with a descending triplet figure.  The absence of a second statement of the theme abbreviates the return of the A section, creating a sense of restless anticipation augmented by the harmonically unresolved melodic fragments in the cello part mm. 204-209.  Delius creates a transition to the cadenza with the winding down of motion in the violin and orchestra and a brief flourish in the cello.   36  Analysis: Second Movement, Cadenza, mm. 210-236  The accompanied cadenza begins in m. 210 with a descending chromatic scale in the cello, arpeggios in the violin, and a low G sustained in the orchestra.  With the exception of the aforementioned grace-note figure first in the solo violin and then in the sparse orchestral accompaniment, there is no statement of any of the preceding melodic material in the cadenza.  Once again the dotted rhythm is referenced in this recurring grace-note figure, creating another layer within the cyclic construction.  The harmonies are vague and calm, sometimes implying modal harmonies, and sometimes diatonic harmonies, but never clearly defined key areas.  A general sense of calm permeates the cadenza despite the difficulty of synchronizing the challenging solo lines.  The precision required to execute this cadenza is not apparent to the audience and the cadenza is not overtly showy.  In mm. 226-232, the orchestra begins to play a more prominent role, and in mm. 233-237, the oboe and flute alternately reintroduce the dotted rhythm motive, anticipating the return of the first movement.  This section elides the end of the cadenza with the beginning of the third movement, continuing in mm. 237-240 when the soloists drop out and the orchestra begins a dramatic crescendo into the clear statement of the First Theme in the solo cello (m. 241).     37  Analysis: Third Movement Much of the third movement is a close repeat of the first movement, but with the solo voices switched in terms of the introduction of thematic material.  For example, where the solo violin introduced the First Theme in m. 15, the solo cello now introduces this theme in the third movement in m. 241.  Another pronounced difference between the first movement exposition and the beginning of the third movement is the absence of the Introduction and the dotted rhythmic motive that it contains.  The transition between the second and third movements serves a similar purpose to the introduction of the first movement, using the dotted rhythm and setting up the first entrance of the soloists.  Mm. 233-234 mirror mm. 9-10 with the flute and oboe playing the motive in mm. 233-234 that the solo violin played in mm. 9-10.  Where the transition between the first and second movements creates a winding down of energy, the transition between the second and third movements creates an increase in momentum in anticipation of the return of the first theme in m. 241.  Delius gives the violin a brief cadenza-like passage in mm. 11-14, but the corresponding mm. 235-240 in the third movement keep stating the grace-note figure in rhythmic diminution with a crescendo, accelerando, and rallentando creating a dramatic buildup for the solo cello statement of the First Theme in m. 245.  In Table 2.1, I have labeled this section as both the transition between the second and third movements and as the introduction of the third movement.  In Table 2.2, this section is labeled “Transition/Elision.” Analysis: Third Movement, Exposition, mm. 241-314  Still in C minor, the cello enters in m. 241 with the First Theme.  Here the accompaniment figure in the violin is considerably less active than the corresponding moment 38  in the first movement, which allows the cello to project more easily.   The exposition progresses much like the first movement exposition, but with the soloists’ roles reversed and a less busy accompaniment, until the statement of the Second Theme.  Although the key is never clearly defined for the Second Theme in either the first or third movements, there is a pitch center change from E flat to E when the orchestra enters in m. 288.  The Transition Theme enters, this time in the solo cello instead of the solo violin (m. 263).  Neither the first nor third movements have well-defined keys when the second theme enters, but when the orchestra enters with the Second Theme in m. 288 the pitch center is E in the third movement where the first movement pitch center is E flat.  The solo cello enters in m. 296 with a variant of the Second Theme, differing from parallel place in the first movement where the soloists accompany the melody in the orchestra (m. 76).  High degrees of chromaticism, technical challenges, and cross rhythms of two against three make this section (mm. 296-311) one of the most complex within the concerto in terms of ensemble between the soloists.  The corresponding section in the first movement (mm. 76-94) contains chromaticism and challenging solo lines, but not the same degree of rhythmic instability.  Both sections feature elements traditionally found in development sections, exploring the first and second themes, but here they serve as a transition to the development section.   Analysis: Third Movement, Development section, mm. 315-333 The development section in the third movement begins in m. 315 with the statement of the Development Theme in the solo cello and continues through m. 333, a much shorter section from the first movement with far less reworking of the thematic material.  Unlike the first movement, another theme is introduced in mm. 327-328 of the solo cello part, stated again in 39  octaves with the solo violin in mm. 330-332.  This theme is a modified form of the theme heard in the first movement in mm 113-117.  This theme contains the dotted rhythm and triplets found in the Development Theme, but this modified form is less chromatic than the Development Theme.  The entrance of this modified form of the Development Theme (it is also heard in the horns and clarinets) effectively closes the development section.  This theme establishes G major in mm. 327-328 but then implies E minor followed by A major, ending in A minor in mm. 332-333.  While the keys are not clearly defined, the development section is not as harmonically unstable as the first movement development. The shorter, less weighty development section in the third movement leaves room for the Coda, the section that differs most from the first movement.  Neither the first nor third movements contain a recapitulation, but where the first movement transitions into the second movement following the development section, the third movement leads into a coda and closing section. Analysis: Third Movement, Coda, mm. 334-367 The coda begins in m. 334 with the statement of the Fifth Theme in octaves in the solo parts, accompanied by pianissimo tremolo and sustained chords in the orchestra.  This creates a sense of both calm and anticipation, unlike the initial entrance of this theme in the second movement whose cello accompaniment creates a more restless texture.  While the underlying harmony is C major, there are many seventh chords that do not resolve but instead create a static harmonic texture with a continuing sense of C major.  The tremolo figure adds a sense of expectation, as do the increasing dynamics from piano to fortissimo in the solo lines mm. 334-341.  The soloists pass the melody to the orchestra in m. 345 where the solo parts accompany with contrary motion arpeggios, serving a similar role to that of the tremolos in mm. 334-336.  40  Everything builds to the final crescendo in m. 350.  The closing section of the coda begins in m. 351 with an immediate drop to a piano dynamic, a Molto tranquillo (tempo I) marking, and a return of the Introductory Theme, again in C minor as it appears in the first movement.  This melody is stated in the orchestra, and follows the same format as mm. 1-8 with the addition of the soloists’ descending scalar figures in octaves.  The dotted rhythm reappears in m. 352 in the strings, as part of the return to the introductory material.  This rhythm continues appearing throughout the closing section, further strengthening the cyclic connection and bringing the piece full circle.  In measure 359, Delius combines the Introductory Theme with the Fifth Theme and modulates to the parallel key of C major.  The soloists are in octaves in mm. 359-364 with the Fifth Theme, creating a calm atmosphere that continues as the soloists play ascending figures against the Introductory Theme rhythms in the winds (mm. 364).  The final measures of the piece find the solo cello on a high E, the solo violin on a high C, the strings holding a C major chord, the harp and flute creating a slowly ascending figure to a high E, all ending with a quadruple piano dynamic level, dying away.   41  Analysis: Single Movement Form While the structure of the Concerto follows the connected three-movement form discussed above, the piece can also be experienced and analyzed as a large-scale ternary single-movement work.  In this analysis, the work divides along similar lines to first/second/third movement delineations corresponding to the A/B/A divisions in a ternary form.  Discussing the work in terms of a large-scale single movement more closely describes the way in which the piece is experienced upon first hearing.  While this definition yields little in terms of additional insight for analysis, I believe it is important to acknowledge that the three connected movements are not so well defined and contrasting as to create a sense of division upon first hearing.  The first two movements end with a transition into the adjacent movement and an elision respectively, giving the work a structure that can be experienced as a single narrative.  Study of the score reveals the underlying three-movement structure, something less evident when listening to the work.  Upon first hearing the piece, I did not feel the three-movement structure but rather a large-scale single-movement ternary form.  Unified thematic material throughout the piece, easily recognizable returning melodies, a single cadenza located approximately two thirds of the way through the work, and a final theme that grounds the piece and creates a sense of resolution all give the listener reason to experience the piece as a single movement.  In contrast, three fairly distinct movements, an overall fast-slow-fast large scale tempo relationship between these movements, and somewhat contrasting harmonic structures can give an initial impression of three connected but individual movements.    The Concerto also contains many elements of a large-scale sonata form. The difficulty of analyzing the work as a large sonata form is in finding the development section, but the first 42  and third movements work well as exposition and recapitulation sections.  The presence of new thematic material in the second movement makes it somewhat problematic as a development section.  However the return and expansion of the dotted rhythmic figure and sections of the introductory theme, as well as the chromaticism found in much of the cadenza, could be interpreted as containing many of the properties of a development section.  This reading reinforces the double-function interpretation.  While it is easy to dismiss the single-movement interpretation as less relevant, the Concerto is more easily heard as a single-movement work rather than three connected movements.  The audience might perceive the divisions, but the smooth connections give the impression of a large single movement with contrasting sections.  However, analyzing the work as one continuous movement provides an incomplete understanding of the relationships within the work and the importance of the contrasting sections.  The analysis of the work as three connected movements shows the works’ structural underpinnings and its connection to the concerto literature both of its contemporaries and of its predecessors.  An analysis excluding either of these structures diminishes our understanding of the work and its relationship to the other works of Delius as well.  While the overall success of the Concerto from a compositional standpoint is at times problematic, its importance as a unique piece within the double-concerto literature is unmistakable. 43  Chapter 4, From a Cellist’s Perspective My observations regarding the challenges and issues of particular concern to the cellist come from my direct experience performing the Delius Double Concerto as a soloist with the Whitworth University symphony orchestra.  The violin soloist for this performance was Dr. Philip Baldwin, the violin professor and Director of Strings at Whitworth University. The lack of multiple recordings, the fact that this work is not part of the traditional solo canon and therefore our unfamiliarity with the piece, the inconsistent markings, and the awkward nature of the writing itself created challenges in preparing both the solo and orchestral parts for performance.  Topics concerning aspects of performance we encountered while preparing and performing the work will be discussed in this chapter.  These issues include balance, ensemble, score issues, and technical challenges all discussed from the perspective of the cello soloist performing the Concerto.  This work is not considered part of the standard repertoire, making resources limited in terms of available recordings and editions.  While one version of the conductor’s score, solo parts, and piano reduction is readily available, the solo parts and score are inconsistent regarding pitches, articulation, and bowings.  The solo parts contain minimal articulation markings, and those markings present do not always match those found in the score and orchestra parts.  More bowings and articulation markings were in the score than the solo and orchestral parts, so an initial step in preparing for rehearsal was integrating the markings from the solo lines in the score to the parts.    In addition, the lack of bowings and articulation markings in the solo parts created an obstacle during early rehearsals.  Creating a uniform 44  interpretation required first reconciling the parts with the score, then double checking with the piano reduction (which contained still more inconsistencies with the parts and orchestral score), deciding which markings were likely intentional, then finally integrating these elements into our own version of the piece.  In addition to these discrepancies, there is a general lack of specificity in the expressive markings, and Delius’ use of terms such as “rather quieter”, “rather quicker”, “rather slower” prove challenging to interpret literally as a performer.  While terms like piano, allargando, and allegretto may be broad and open to interpretation, they are part of a common language for musicians, unlike Delius’ individualized markings.  Delius’ accompanying lines often prove more effective than his writing for the soloists, belying his understanding of the orchestra as a performance medium and his unfamiliarity with the cello.  The most challenging aspect of creating a unified interpretation within the solo parts was Delius’ neglect of the solo cello score.  He underutilizes the cello, either delegating it to doubling the violin line or creating awkward superfluous writing seemingly to fill space.  While there are moments of clarity and strength in this voice, there are many moments that required a different strategy to prepare.  Simply navigating the mechanics of playing the notes proved a challenge at first, and combining two disparate voices proved to be the long term obstacle to overcome.  Beatrice writes in her memoir that the cello part was essentially doubling the violin line when she was first allowed to see the score.42  She worked with Delius to rewrite the part and help create something playable that accomplished both the goals of the composer and the parameters of the instrument.  Nonetheless, even with Beatrice’s input, the part remains less 42 Harrison, 104. 45                                                       effective than that of the violin, which itself still presents significant challenges in terms of technique and intelligibility.    One challenge specific for the cellist performing the Double Concerto is that of balance between the dynamic level of the orchestra and soloists.  In addition to much doubling with the violin, there are many occasions in the score where the cello part is engulfed by the orchestra regardless of the sensitivity of the performing ensemble.  This is not an issue unique to Delius; in fact many of the Romantic Era concertos for cello and orchestra struggle to balance emotional intensity and dense textures with the limits inherent to the projection of the cello’s sound.  For example, The Dvorak and Schumann Concertos include balance challenges for the performer.  There are moments in the Delius where the melody occurs simultaneously in the solo cello and brass section, and no matter how softly the horns play this melody, they will render the solo line virtually inaudible.  There is a constant battle between the cello soloist and the other forces throughout the piece, often resulting in the solo cello struggling.  In order to project above the accompaniment, the soloist must seldom play below a fortissimo dynamic.  Putting the two solo voices together in order to present a unified, smooth and balanced musical interpretation proves challenging.  Conflicting rhythmic groupings of three against four, solo voices simultaneously playing seemingly unrelated figures, and awkward technical writing often create a sense of disconnect between the solo parts.  Measures 76-133 are particularly awkward for both soloists.  The chromaticism in this section results in accidentals on nearly every eighth note with rapidly shifting pitch centers and implied keys, leading to a feeling of instability for the soloists, especially the violinist.  In measures 79-82, the violin part uses sharps and the cello flats, subtly undermining the unity of the solo lines.  Even though the pitches are 46  enharmonically equivalent, this inconsistency makes intonation problematic.  While preparing to perform the work, extensive rehearsals without piano or orchestral accompaniment gave us time to work through these challenges and come to agreement concerning how to come to terms with the unique and idiosyncratic writing.  While this is an important step for any soloist or soloists, the unfamiliarity of the work combined with its complex and sometimes confusing musical language made the Delius particularly challenging to present.     In addition to issues of balance and ensemble, the writing for the cello sometimes proves ineffective and cumbersome.  Lionel Tertis arranged the cello solo part for solo viola, creating a version that in some ways surpasses the original.  Delius was a violinist and he seemed to write for the cello as he would for the violin.  A violinist (and violist) can comfortably reach a perfect fourth without shifting hand position, but a cellist can comfortably reach only a major third.  In thumb position, a variant that moves the left thumb onto the fingerboard along with the other fingers, a perfect fourth can be effectively and consistently reached.  While thumb position is neither inherently awkward nor unusual, producing a rich and centered vibrato using the thumb is challenging, making timbre difficult to duplicate when matching the violinist.  This means that a fingering pattern that works well for a violinist can prove somewhat less effective for a cellist.  Measures 330-332 provide an example of the solo lines in octaves where this difference in hand position proves difficult when trying to match timbre and style.  There are two options (at least) for the cellist, one requiring playing on and crossing between three strings and one crossing between two strings.  In either case, the position is stretched and awkward for the cellist where the violinist is simply covering the octave distance between first and fourth finger on adjacent strings.  The cellist must choose between a less stable position 47  that mimics that of the violinist and a more compact position that changes the timbre of the doubled line between the two instruments.  A violist can simply stretch the distance as a violinist does.    Another example of less successful writing for the cello occurs in measures 113-133.  This section begins with a fanfare-like theme in the solo cello that is both awkward to play and buried by the orchestra.  In a recording, the cello can be brought to the forefront of the mix and this melody becomes the primary voice, but in live performance, this melody has little impact even though it is doubled in the English horn.  Delius’ “rather quieter” marking in the orchestra must be taken very seriously in order for the melody to stand a chance against the accompaniment.  Even if the orchestra drops down substantially, the melody remains difficult to execute gracefully.  The cellist must once again choose either a less reliable stretch or create a gap in the musical line.  Awkward writing is not limited to the cello solo line; for example, measures 323-324 are not idiomatic for the violinist and the orchestral part is harmonically unstable, the result being a passage that does not sit well for the violinist and sounds disjointed to the audience.    Not only does Delius write a less than optimal part for the cello soloist, he leaves much of the range of the cello virtually absent from the work.  There is very little in the Concerto that reaches below the G string on the cello, leaving out the unique sounds of the lowest string. Perhaps Delius was simply not thinking about the C string, since the violin does not have this range.  Most of the Concerto is written for the higher positions on the cello, creating a distinctively treble partner for the violin instead of utilizing the elements that make the two instruments distinct from each other.  When listening to historic recordings of Beatrice 48  Harrison, the listener is struck by her exceptionally beautiful tone in the high register of the instrument.  Perhaps this accounts for Delius’ affection for that range of the cello. Delius sometimes writes the two solo parts as though they are independent of one another and largely unrelated to the orchestra part.  In measures 99-103, the solo lines have little to do with each other or the orchestral accompaniment.  The rhythms, melodic contour, articulation, and even harmonic structure, create a jumble of sound, leaving the audience without a clue what to listen for or which line to follow.  Fragments appear and disappear, chord progressions fail to resolve, and the solo voices seem to be shouting at each other instead of creating a dialogue.   Given all of this, there are still moments where Delius succeeds in creating music for the solo cellist that is idiomatic, exploits the unique range of the instrument, and succeeds from the standpoint of balance.  The beginning of the second movement opens with a well-defined and charming melody in the solo cello.  This melody, first introduced in abbreviated form by the horn in measures 140-143, is fully stated by the solo cello in measures 144-147.  White postulated that this melody was inspired by the songs of the African American plantation workers that profoundly influenced Delius’ work during and after his years in Florida.43  Unlike the music of Grieg and many of his English contemporaries (Vaughan Williams, Britten, Bridge), Delius’ music does not contain frequent reference to the folk songs of his own culture, but his time in Florida inspired him to write such works as Appalachia and Koanga, filled with references to the American South.  This theme is the closest approximation of such a reference 43 White, 32.  49                                                       within the Double Concerto.  The melody falls within the middle range of the cello, a range in which the instrument’s resonance evokes the human voice, making it more like a vocal melody.  Another instance of effective writing for soloists and orchestra is the beginning of the third movement.  This is the moment where Delius switches the roles of the violin and cello soloists from the exposition of the first movement (measure 15), giving the material originally stated by the violinist to the cellist.  Delius sets up this moment effectively in the score with a crescendo and rallentando for the full orchestra in the preceding measures followed by the orchestra dropping to a piano dynamic and thinning out of the texture at measure 241.  The violin is also given a less busy part (if more awkward) than the cello has in the corresponding section at measure 15, helping the cello to carry the melody and be heard.    Creating a unified interpretation of the work proved rewarding, especially concerning the rich tone qualities produced within much of the orchestra scoring.  There are many instances where the sound evokes Delius’ most successful works, especially his tone poems.  The moments where the soloists play melodic material in octaves, especially the entrance of the Fifth Theme, create unity, with both soloists gaining strength from each other.  This theme is an example of one of the most effective elements of the overall piece, a simple yet engaging melody.  The interplay and elaboration of this theme provide an opportunity for the soloists to spin the melody above a minimal orchestral accompaniment, an example of successful orchestration.  50  Conclusion  While the tone poems of Delius are still often performed by contemporary orchestras, his Double Concerto is a work of relative obscurity.  Even though the Double Concerto is often considered by scholars to be a minor piece in Delius’ compositional output, the work still holds a place of significance both for the composer’s oeuvre and as a piece worthy of performance.  It is an example of Delius exploring the genre of the concerto and his first attempt to write a piece for cello solo with orchestra.  His connection to Beatrice and May Harrison was a lifelong friendship that resulted in Delius composing several works for cello and/or violin, including the Double Concerto.  His friendship with Beatrice proved beneficial to both, providing inspiration and a ready performer for Delius and a successful collaboration for Beatrice.  Her influence on the solo cello part of the Double Concerto was undoubtedly profound, changing Delius’ sketches into a playable part that would function as a counterpart to the violin solo.  Nonetheless, the solo cello line remains challenging in a way indicative of Delius’ developing knowledge and ability to compose for solo cello.  The Double Concerto’s relegation to the margins of Delius’ oeuvre has resulted in its receiving little detailed study and consideration.  Studying the piece’s form shows a link between the Double Concerto and other works with connected movements.  The parallels between many of these works, including the open-ended nature of their first movements, the cyclic elements present in their over-arching forms, and their seamless transitions between movements, suggest that many composers were exploring the potential in large-scale single-movement unified structures.  While the concerto genre represented a small percentage of 51  Delius’ compositions, the Piano Concerto and Double Concerto show him working to compose within the structure of a more traditional genre while still exploring the changing boundaries of that genre.    An analysis of the Concerto’s melodic material proves the work to contain a high degree of structural unity.  Many elements serve to strengthen that unity within the underlying form, including easily identified repeating rhythmic figures, returning melodies, parallel harmonic structures, and a cyclic return of the opening material in the piece’s coda.  Within the single-movement form Delius creates three distinct movements.  While each movement is distinct, they all are connected by the repeating musical elements.  Those elements contribute to the forms of the individual movements while helping to unify the over-arching single-movement structure.  While the sequence of themes supports the sonata form elements within the first movement, the absence of a recapitulation following the development section creates the connection to the third movement, strengthening the double-function reading of the over-arching form.  Even though the lack of strong tonic return weakens the two-dimensional sonata form interpretation, Delius nonetheless combines two different structures within the form of the Double Concerto, namely three connected movements within an over-arching modified large-scale ternary form.  Many performance challenges await the cellist who is learning this concerto.  Discrepancies between the published parts create the first barrier, followed by the ambiguity of the expressive markings and the inconsistent markings between the solo parts.  Once the parts are in order, the awkward writing for the cello emerges, creating the need to smooth out the non-idiomatic passages in order to perform the music gracefully.  Issues of balance plague both 52  soloists, but especially the cellist, who must work to bring the rich melodic material to the front of the texture.  The work’s relative obscurity leaves the soloists on their own in creating an interpretation that overcomes the structural and technical challenges and highlights the beauty inherent in Delius’ score. Those who saw Delius as a visionary disregard this work as a lesser piece within his oeuvre partly because of its adherence to a traditional genre, something that Delius was not known for before this period in his life.  While the Delius Double Concerto contains no programmatic elements, unlike Delius’ more highly regarded symphonic compositions, it does provide an evocative musical narrative.  The work’s atmospheric qualities and focus on tone color contrast with the double concerto predecessors, like the more substantial Brahms Double Concerto.  There are many things within the Delius Double Concerto that prove it worthy of study and performance.  Its form is compact, guiding the listener along a circular path, ending with a peaceful finish.  The chromaticism and occasional dense harmonies add elements of both late Romanticism and Impressionism.  While the cello often struggles to be heard, the cello soloist also is given the chance to introduce and elaborate on the most lyrical melodic material, sometimes without the presence of the violin soloist.  At these moments, Delius orchestrates carefully, allowing for many satisfying moments for the cellist.  All of these elements combine to create a work that resonates with audience and performer alike.53  Bibliography Anderson, Robert, et al. "Delius, Frederick." Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed December 5, 2013,  Beecham, Sir Thomas.  Frederick Delius.  New York: Vienna House, 1959. Brown, David.  “The B Minor Sonata Revisited: Deciphering Liszt.”  The Musical Times, Vol. 144, No. 1882 (Spring, 2003): 6-15. Delius, Frederick.  Concerto for Violin, Violoncello, and Orchestra, Pianoforte Arrangement. Arranged by Philip Heseltine.  London: Augener Ltd., 1920. Delius, Frederick.  Concerto for Violin, Violoncello, and Orchestra, Conductor’s Score and Parts.  Luck’s Music Library, Michigan. Fenby, Eric.  Delius as I knew him.  London: B. Bell & Sons Ltd., 1936.  Reprinted with revisions and additional material.  Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981.  Page references are to the Cambridge edition. Field, Christopher D.S.  "Phantasy.”  Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online.  Oxford University Press, accessed December 3, 2013, Foss, Hubert.  “The Instrumental Music of Frederick Delius.”  Tempo, New Series, No. 26, Delius Number (Winter, 1952-53): 30-37. Green, Douglass M.  Form in Tonal Music: An Introduction to Analysis, Second Edition.  Holt, Fort Worth: Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1979. Hamilton, Kenneth.  Liszt: Sonata in B Minor, Cambridge Music Handbooks.  Cambridge University Press, 1996. Harrison, Beatrice.  The Cello and the Nightingales: the autobiography of Beatrice Harrison.  Edited by Patricia Cleveland-Peck.  London: John Murray (Publishers) Ltd., 1985. Harrison, May.  “The Music of Delius.”  Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association, 71st Session (1944-45): 43-48. 54  Howes, Frank and Christina Bashford.  "Cobbett, Walter Willson.”  Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online.  Oxford University Press, accessed December 3, 2013, Hutchings, Arthur.  Delius.  London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 1949.  Reprinted Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1970. Macdonald, Hugh. "Cyclic form." Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed December 3, 2013, Moortele, Steven Vande.  Two-Dimensional Sonata Form: Form and Cycle in Single-Movement Instrumental Works by Liszt, Strauss, Schoenberg, and Zemlinsky.  Leuven, Belgium: Leuven University Press, 2009. Palmer, Christopher.  “Delius and Folksong.”  The Musical Times, Vol. 112, No. 1535 (Jan., 1971): 24-25. Palmer, Christopher.  “Delius, Vaughan Williams and Debussy.”  Music & Letters, Vol. 50, No. 4 (Oct., 1969): 475-480. Payne, Anthony.  “Delius’s Stylistic Development.”  Tempo, New Series, No. 60 (Winter, 1961-1962): 6-16+23-25.  Payne, Anthony.  “Frederick Delius”, The New Grove Twentieth-century English Masters. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1986, pp. 69-96. Raynor, Henry.  "Worshipful Company of Musicians.” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online.  Oxford University Press, accessed December 3, 2013, Saint-Saëns, Camille.  “Cello Concerto in A Minor, Op. 129”, Great Romantic Cello Concertos, Dover Publications, Mineola, N.Y., 1983. Satyendra, Ramon.  “Liszt’s Open Structures and the Romantic Fragment.:  Music Theory Spectrum, Vol. 19, No. 2 (Autumn, 1997): 184-205. Stegemann, Michael.  Camille Saint-Saëns and the French Solo Concerto from 1850 to 1920.  Portland, Oregon: Amadeus Press, 1991. 55  Tanner, Mark.  “The Power of Performance as an Alternative Analytical Discourse: The Liszt Sonata in B Minor.”  19th-Century Music, Vol. 24, No. 2, Special Issue: Nineteenth-Century Pianism (Autumn, 2000): 173-192. Warlock, Peter (Philip Heseltine).  Frederick Delius.  Plymouth: Mayflower Press, Bodley Head, Ltd., 1923.  Reprinted with additions, annotations and comments by Hubert Foss.  New York: Oxford University Press, 1952.  Reprinted Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1977.  Citations are to the Greenwood edition. White, John.  “The Delius Concertos-A Survey (Part Two: The Double, Violin and ‘Cello Concertos).”  The Delius Society Journal, Number 126 (Autumn 1999): 30-38. Walker, Alan, et al. "Liszt, Franz." Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed December 3, 2013,  56  


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