bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
Between Polarity and Synthesis: The Modernist Paradigm in Lutos ławski’s Concertos for Cello and Piano
Authors: Whittall Arnold 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
‘Modernism’ is a term so swathed in the varied garments of highly diverse definition and use as to be at once deeply suspect and invaluable. My application of it here relates to a view of musical progressiveness as resisting, if not totally rejecting, the organicist predispositions of the tonal tradition, and I do not seek to confine the relevance of modernism to those late nineteenth-, early twentieth century years whose musical initiatives were themselves soon overtaken by the more radical impulses of the so-called ‘New Music’. Nor do I accept the austere view that artistic modernism is actually anti-progressive, in the sense (presum ably) that it seeks to enhance the elitism that underpins traditional aesthetic practices.
The Integrative Role of Motion Patterns in Lutos ławski’s Mature Symphonic Works: A Comparison of Livre pour orchestre and the Symphony No. 4
Authors: Tuchowski Andrzej 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
The concept of motion, present in music theory since ancient times, has occupied a prominent position in twentieth-century theoretical systems, for example, in the writings of Ernst Kurth, Hans Mersmann, Heinrich Schenker, and his followers.
Concerto In B Flat, K. 456
Authors: Hutchings Arthur 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
The fourth, fifth, and sixth concertos of this annus mirabilis may far more reasonably be regarded as forming a group than may the first three which are often spoken of as a trio, either because of a sentence in one of lvfozart’s letters, or because they were all composed within a few weeks of March--April 1784. But the second three, of which the composition was spread over the remaining months of the year, show a marked consolidation of first-movement structure; each uses the same size of orchestra, and each has other points in common.
Concerto In A, K. 488
Authors: Hutchings Arthur 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In the two and a half months since K. 482 the most important event is the performance of a small work, the one-act comedy Der Schauspieldirektor (usually in this country called The Impresario) in the orangery at Schtinbrunn, for which setting it was commissioned by the emperor. No doubt during the period which brought forth the Concertos in E flat, A, and C minor, Mozart’s chief thoughts and hopes were for the completion and successful launching of Figaro.
England and the Folk-Art Problem (1941)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
There have been so few outstanding composers in England since the turn of the century, it is hardly surprising that America knows little of that country’s musical fashions; for it is the minor composers who most clearly indicate the trend of the age. Roughly speaking there have been two major schools, and the conflict between the two has influenced everybody. The outstanding figures whose personalities may be said to have given each school its particular character were Elgar and Parry. Elgar represents the professional point of view, which emphasizes the importance of technical efficiency and welcomes any foreign influences that can be profitably assimilated. Parry and his followers, with the Royal College of Music as their center, have stressed the amateur idea and they have encouraged folk-art, its collecting and teaching. They are inclined to suspect technical brilliance of being superficial and insincere. This difference may not be unconnected with the fact that Elgar was compelled to earn his living by music, whereas Parry was not. Parry’s national ideal was, in fact, the English Gentleman (who generally thinks it rather vulgar to take too much trouble). From Parry and his associates there arose a school of composers directly influenced by folksong, to which belonged virtually every composer known here until recently, except of course, Elgar and Frank Bridge. This may seem surprising to many Americans who have come to regard Elgar as synonymous with England. But he is, in fact, a most eclectic composer, his most obvious influences being Wagner, Tchaikovsky, and Franck.
On Behalf of Gustav Mahler (1942)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Most young American and English musicians have been encouraged, I think, to disregard Mahler. At least I myself was. Always coupled with Bruckner, he was supposed to be a purely local composer. For Germans, I was told, he had a certain sentimental attraction, though even on the Rhine and the Danube, the academicians preferred Brahms, the glamour-seekers Strauss, and the modernists Schonberg and Berg. He was long-winded and formless-the bright intellectuals cited him as an example of a romantic self-indulgent, who was so infatuated with his ideas that he could never stop. Either he couldn’t score at all, or he could only score like Wagner, using enormous orchestras with so much going on that you couldn’t hear anything clearly. Above all, he was not original. In other words, nothing for a young student! And so, when I was at a concert soon after leaving school, specially to hear an exciting new piano concerto, and saw from the programme that I had first to hear a symphony by Mahler, I naturally groaned in anticipation of forty-five minutes of boredom.
Statement to the Local Tribunal for the Registration of Conscientious Objectors (1942)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Since I believe that there is in every man the spirit of God, I cannot destroy, and feel it my duty to avoid helping to destroy as far as I am able, human life, however strongly I may disapprove of the individual’s actions or thoughts. The whole of my life has been devoted to acts of creation (being by profession a composer) and I cannot take part in acts of destruction. Moreover, I feel that the fascist attitude to life can only be overcome by passive resistance. If Hitler were in power here or this country had any similar form of government, I should feel it my duty to obstruct this regime in every non-violent way possible, and by complete non-cooperation. I believe sincerely that I can help my fellow human beings best, by continuing the work I am most qualified to do by the nature of my gifts and training, i.e. the creation or propagation of music. I have possibilities of writing music for M.O.1. (Ministry of Information) films, and for B.B.C. productions, and am offering my services to the Committee for the Encouragement of Music and Art. I am however prepared, but feel completely unsuited by nature & training, to undertake other constructive civilian work provided that it is not connected with any of the armed forces.
Conversation with Benjamin Britten (1944)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Question. You have written works in many forms and combinations, but you seem to prefer certain mediums to others. For example, you have written a great deal for string orchestra, but comparatively little for full orchestra. Why is that? Answer. I am attracted by the many features of the strings. For instance, the possibilities of elaborate devise-the effect of many voices of the same kind. There is also the infinite variety of colour-the use of mutes, pizzicato, harmonics and so forth. Then again, there is the great dexterity in the technique of string players. Generally speaking, I like to think of the smaller combinations of players, and I deplore the tendency of present-day audiences to expect only the luscious ‘tutti’ effect from an orchestra. I think this has been engendered by a ‘Hollywood’ method of scoring-both here and abroad-and also by the modern radio sets and electrical gramophones, which tend to cut off the upper partials and give the orchestra a constant rounded, booming and ‘fat’ sound. I’ve always inclined to the clear and clean-the ‘slender’ sound of, say, Mozart or Verdi or Mahler-or even Tchaikovsky, if he is played in a restrained, though vital, way. But I also write for string orchestra because I don’t like writing music in a vacuum. To my mind, actual contact with performance is very important. String orchestras are more enterprising in their programmes than symphony orchestras and I have often been asked to write for them. I feel grateful if artists take the trouble to be interested in my music and ask me to compose something. In this way, I have been glad to write for soprano and tenor voices, for the horn and oboe, and string orchestra-and even for the opera-house.
The Rape of Lucretia (?1951)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In 1946 in England there was in all-the-year-round use one Opera House Sadler’s Wells (the present permanent Covent Garden Opera Company had not yet been formed1) and although ‘Peter Grimes’ had been well received the year before, it seemed unlikely that other new Operas would be put on. To some of the singers, writers and musicians involved in ‘Peter Grimes’ this appeared to be the moment to start a group dedicated to the creation of new works, performed with the least possible expense and capable of attracting new audiences by being toured all over the country. We, in this group, could not afford to risk the expense of a large chorus, orchestra and heavy elaborate scenery. We had no theatre of our own and very limited financial backing, so we determined to experiment and write an Opera the only eight characters, a tiny orchestra of twelve and a simple production. John Christie of Glyndebourne generously underwrote the venture with the backing of the newly formed Arts Council. Ronald Duncan,2 a poet with whom I had worked before, and I chose the suitable classic story of ‘The Rape of Lucretia’ by Tarquinius Sextus and set to work. We borrowed from many sources but principally from Andre Obey’s fine play ‘LeViol de Lucrece’ which made great use of two choruses, male and female, acting as commentators on the action throughout, situated on thrones on either side of the stage. In the original production these were sung by Joan Cross and Peter Pears, who had sung in the original production of’Peter Grimes’ the previous year and were among the leaders of this group. The scenery and costumes were designed by John Piper, one of our best English painters. It was produced by Eric Crozier, who is also concerned in the ‘Peter Grimes’ performance, and conducted by Ernest Ansermet.
Dido and Aeneas (1951)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Sir,-In his letter of May 3 Dr. Geoffrey Bush states that Purcell’s music to Dido and Aeneas has been ‘carefully preserved.’1 That is not quite the case. The only surviving manuscript of the music seems to be one written by John Travers 25 years after the death of Purcell and 40 years after the only contemporary performance of the work. Travers was not born at the time of this performance, and judging by obvious copying errors in the manuscript he cannot have been very familiar with the work, and it can never have been used for performance. The source for Dr. W. H. Cummings’s Purcell Society edition was written ‘probably in Purcell’s time’ (Dr. Cummings’s words).2 This came to light in the 1880s and has since disappeared (according to Professor E. ]. Dent).3 It differs widely from the above Travers manuscript which is preserved in the library of St. Michael’s College, Tenbury. There was apparently yet another manuscript consulted by MacFarren for his edition of the work for the Musical Antiquarian Society in 1841, which again differs from the above version, actually being considerably shorter.4 It seems that there is no trace of this manuscript to-day. ‘Carefully preserved’ is, therefore, a scarcely accurate phrase to use.
Variations on a Critical Theme (1952)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
I can well remember my first contact with the critics. I was about 17 and three part songs of mine had been given at a London theatre concert.1 They were written as a student’s exercise, with the voice parts in strict canon. The first was amiably grotesque, the second atmospheric in a cool way, the third lumpily ‘folky.’ The only written criticism of this performance damned them entirely-as being obvious copies of Walton’s three Facade Songs.2 Now anyone who is interested can see for himself that this is silly nonsense. The Walton Songs are brilliant and sophisticated in the extreme-mine could scarcely have been more childlike and naive, with not a trace of parody throughout. It is easy to imagine the damping effect of this first notice on a young composer. I was furious and dismayed because I could see there was not a word of truth in it. I was also considerably discouraged. No friendliness-no word of encouragement-no perception. Was this the critical treatment which one was to expect all one’s life? A gloomy outlook. I decided to avoid reading critics from that day onwards. And so I have as far as possible. Alas, there are always friends to send one press notices: ‘Have you seen this; of course I don’t agree but .. .’; or that amiable vagueness which sends one the most virulent attacks: ‘Sure you would like to see this most interesting account of .. .’
Three Premieres (1954)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
It was in the last days of the war, at a performance of The Messiah in Westminster Abbey, that I first heard Kathleen Ferrier sing.1 I was impressed immediately by the nobility and beauty of her presence, and by the warmth and deep range of her voice. It seemed to me (and seems so still) that hers was one of the very few voices that could tackle with success the low tessitura of that alto part. So, a few months later, in the autumn of 1945, when we were looking for a contralto to play the name part in a new opera I was writing, The Rape of Lucretia, and she was mentioned as a possibility, I enthusiastically welcomed the idea. Peter Pears, singing with her a few days later, suggested it to her, and she tentatively agreed. She was nervous about learning a new long, modern part; nervous, above all, about her acting-I think she had never been on the stage, certainly not the professional stage, in her life. She was persuaded, especially since the rehearsal period was going to be long and calm, and soon she was keenly involved, greedily absorbing each Iiew bit of the score as it came along, and helping in the arrangements too; it was she, for instance, who suggested Nancy Evans to play the other Lucretia (we were preparing a ‘run’ of the opera, and so two alternating casts were necessary).2Thus in no time her warm friendliness and keenness on any serious artistic matter made her a member of the ‘family’ which was planning this operatic venture. The ‘family’ consisted of such as Ronald Duncan, who was writing the libretto of the opera; John Piper, designing the scenery and costumes; Eric Crozier, producing; Joan Cross and Peter Pears singing, with Kathleen, the principal parts; and myself writing the music.
Discussion on Billy Budd (1960)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
CROZIER: We began discussing the idea of writing an opera together some months before we found Billy Budd; I think it was in August 1948 that we had a first meeting and simply talked very enthusiastically, but very vaguely, about an opera that we might one day write. And a month or two later Morgan, you and I had a further meeting to discuss this idea of collaboration, but still we had no subject. And then I think you had a letter from Ben. FORSTER: Then I had-he and I had discussed some subject; it was a comedy opera I think-wasn’t it?-which was very nice but I didn’t see what I could do about it.CROZIER: You in fact weren’t very keen on the idea of comedy. FORSTER: Well I didn’t think I could manage it-that was all. CROZIER: Well, I remember one thing that you said to me which was that you didn’t really approve of the idea of a comedy because if it were to be modern it would have to be satirical, and if it were to be an opera about the past it would inevitably be nostalgic, and you weren’t very much interested in either of these fields. FORSTER: Yes. I remember anyhow that died out and then I got a letter from Ben-unfortunately I have destroyed it, as I destroy so much-quite a short one suggesting this Melville thing Billy Budd, and I wrote back and said yes; it suited me at once and I was absolutely delighted to get this tiny note.
Imogen Holst: An ABC of Music (1963)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
A young friend of mine has been playing the guitar for several years now.1 He has a real aptitude for it: a feeling for the sound of the instrument, a considerable gift for technique, and patience to work hard. But he cannot read music and knows nothing of how music is made, and, what is more, he simply refuses to learn. ‘Too dull and too much trouble’, he says, ‘and anyhow not worth it’. It is true, of course, that a lot of his time is spent in playing dance music, when sight-reading is perhaps not so essential, but he has a considerable interest in straight music, and the lute parts of Dowland have a real fascination for him. When this book is published I want to send him a copy, because he will see that learning to read music, and learning its grammar, need not be dull or too much trouble. He will also discover when he can sight-read that it is really ‘worth it’. Maybe you can pick up tunes and approximate block harmonies without being able to read, but I challenge anyone with that (rather over-rated) gift of playing or singing ‘by ear’ to pick up easily and quickly a Dowland accompaniment exactly as he wrote it (and the ‘exactly’ matters), or the Stravinsky dance-rhythms, or the inner part of a complicated madrigal or partsong-as most of us with experience of amateur choral singing can testify.No, it won’t be only to this guitar boy that I shall send copies of this book, but to many of my friends who sing or play the recorder in amateur groups, and who spend frequent and distressing moments ‘getting lost’.
Address to Kesgrave Heath School, Ipswich (1963)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Boys and girls, my Lord, ladies and gentlemen:I have just seen a little of your new school. I went round some of the classes in the infants’ school and it is a wonderful, wonderful new building that you have there, and I congratulate you all on the achievement of these new, reconstructed buildings.However, there are some of you, I expect, you who remember the old school as it was, who find it a little uneasy in your new buildings.I always think that moving house, moving school, is a little like getting a new suit of clothes. You’ve got to get used to it. They’re very smart and-but they don’t always quite fit properly and sometimes one’s mother may be quite right when she throws away that old pair of trousers that one was so fond of, because it did get a little small, and I think the old buildings as they were got a little bit too small for you.And so now you’ve got these splendid new buildings and I think your architect has done very well, and I’m sure you’re going to be very happy in your new suit of clothes-I mean your new buildings.It is very good, I think, that we should have nice places to work in. Now I’m not going to be a silly old man and say how dreadful life was when we were young and how we used to work in dark, black cellars and were beaten every day of our lives, because it simply isn’t true; but we didn’t have such beautiful buildings as you have here. We didn’t have lovely airy rooms-at least, I didn’t.
Britten Looking Back (1963)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
As a child I heard little music outside my own home. There were the local choral society concerts and the very occasional chamber concert, but the main event was the Norwich Triennial Festival. There in 1924, when I was ro, I heard Frank Bridge conduct his suite ‘The Sea,’ and was knocked sideways.1It turned out that my viola teacher, Audrey Alston, was an old friend of Bridge’s. He always stayed with her, and when the success of ‘The Sea’ brought him to Norwich again in 1927 with a specially written work called ‘Enter Spring,’ I was taken to meet him.We got on splendidly, and I spent the next morning with him going over some of my music (I’d been writing music since I was about five).2 From that moment I used to go regularly to him, staying with him in Eastbourne or in London, in the holidays from my prep school.Even though I was barely in my teens, this was immensely serious and professional study; and the lessons were mam moth. I remember one that started at half past ten, and at tea-time Mrs. Bridge came in and said, ‘Really, you must give the boy a break.’ Often I used to end these marathons in tears; not that he was beastly to me, but the concentrated strain was too much for me. I was perhaps too young to take in so much at the time, but I found later that a good deal of it had stuck firmly.This strictness was the product of nothing but professionalism. Bridge insisted on the absolutely clear relationship of what was in my mind to what was on the paper. I used to get sent to the other side of the room; Bridge would play what I’d written and demand if it was what I’d really meant.I continued to write a vast amount under his guidance-orchestral music, string quartets, piano music and many songs, of which the only one to survive publicly is ‘The Birds’.3 I had a terrible struggle with this before finding what has been called ‘the right ending in the wrong key.’4 Bridge made me go on and on at it, worrying out what hadn’t come right, until I spotted that the cycle of changing keys for each verse needed such an ending.
Dreams (?1965)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
I have never been able to eat mushrooms-. One night I dreamed that I was standing on the top of a mountain with a friend. Together we watched the final atomic-bomb explosion, the explosion that was going to end the world as we know it. As we watched the great mushroom-like cloud approaching us, I turned to him & said, quite calmly, ‘Now you see why I have never liked mushrooms’.
On Receiving The Sonning Prize (1968)
Authors: Kildea Paul 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Ladies & Gentlemen, I suppose I shouldn’t be pleased, honoured, flattered at receiving a prize.1 As a composer I should be above success, honours & prizes. A composer should be entirely self-contained, communing alone with his muse, happy in his garret, in glorious self-sufficiency. But really, that is not the case, & having read alot about the lives of the great masters, I know it has never been so-they have never been fond of their garrets. What is more, I shouldn’t believe a composer who said he was. Music, particularly of all the arts, must have an audience, an audience as well as performers. And what is more gratifying than when the audience & performers like your music? It is sad of course if no one likes what you do,& apart from making your music better & clearer, there is not much you can do about it.But when, as to-night, one has a fine performance of one’s work, & at the end of it a handsome prize, well-one can’t ask for much more! Thank you (Mrs Sonning) for this wonderful prize-not only I, but many of the worthy causes that I have much at heart will benefit from it-thank you on the stage & in the pit for the lovely performance, & you in the audience for applauding it; thank you for welcoming me here to your beautiful city which I have known & loved for 20 years, the city, the country & the people-thank you all from the bottom of my heart.