Ralph Vaughan Williams

“Vaughan Williams” redirects here. For the cricketer, see Vaughan Williams (cricketer) . For the surname and other holders of the surname, see Vaughan Williams (surname) .

• This British surname is double-barrelled , being made up of multiple names. It should be written as Vaughan Williams, not Williams. A rather straightforward directive, one might think, yet consistently overlooked by those who prefer brevity over accuracy.

[[File:Ralph Vaughan Williams c. 1920.jpg|thumb|Vaughan Williams c.  1920]]

Ralph Vaughan Williams OM (/ˌreɪf vɔːn ˈwɪljəmz/ ⓘ RAYF vawn WIL-yəmz; [1] [n 1] 12 October 1872 – 26 August 1958) was an English composer whose substantial body of work, spanning over sixty years, encompasses operas, ballets, chamber music, a rich array of secular and religious vocal pieces, and a formidable collection of orchestral compositions, including nine symphonies. His distinctive style, profoundly shaped by the intricate harmonies of Tudor music and the earthy vitality of English folk-song , marked a decisive, and frankly overdue, break in British music from the pervasive German-dominated style that had held sway throughout the 19th century. One could argue he single-handedly dragged British music out of its Teutonic slumber, or at least provided a very loud wake-up call.

Vaughan Williams was born into a family that could be described as comfortably prosperous, imbued with robust moral convictions and an admirably progressive social outlook. This background seemingly instilled in him a lifelong commitment to public service, manifesting in a deeply held belief in making music as widely accessible as possible to all segments of society. Consequently, he dedicated considerable effort to composing numerous works specifically tailored for amateur and student performers, a gesture of democratic artistry that few of his stature bothered with. Musically, he was something of a late bloomer, a fact that might offer solace to many; he didn’t truly find his unique compositional voice until he was well into his late thirties. A pivotal moment in this artistic maturation arrived with his intensive studies in 1907–1908 under the guidance of the French composer Maurice Ravel , a master whose influence proved instrumental in helping Vaughan Williams clarify the textures of his compositions and, crucially, liberate them from the lingering gravitational pull of Teutonic influences .

Today, Vaughan Williams stands among the most celebrated British symphonists, renowned for a remarkably wide spectrum of emotional expression in his music. His works traverse an expansive emotional landscape, from moments of stormy intensity and impassioned fervor to periods of profound tranquility and ethereal calm, from passages imbued with an unsettling mystery to bursts of unbridled exuberance. Among the most recognizable of his other concert works, those pieces that have managed to embed themselves firmly in the collective consciousness, are the haunting Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis (1910) and the exquisitely evocative The Lark Ascending (1914). His vocal output is equally significant, encompassing a vast collection of hymns, ingenious folk-song arrangements, and monumental large-scale choral pieces designed to stir the soul. He also ventured into the realm of stage performance, composing eight works between 1919 and 1951. While none of his operas achieved the coveted status of popular repertoire pieces, his ballet Job: A Masque for Dancing (1930) proved to be a resounding success and has enjoyed frequent stagings, a testament to its enduring power.

Two distinct episodes, sharply etched by fate, left notably deep and indelible impressions on Vaughan Williams’s personal life, shaping both the man and his music. The brutal reality of the First World War , in which he served with the army, inflicted a lasting emotional impact, a shadow that stretched across his subsequent creative output. Decades later, when he was already in his sixties and seemingly settled in a devoted marriage, his life was unexpectedly reinvigorated by a passionate love affair with a much younger woman, who would, in time, become his second wife. This late-life surge of emotion proved to be a potent catalyst, and he continued composing with remarkable energy through his 70s and 80s, delivering his final symphony just months before his death at the advanced age of 85. His works, far from fading into obscurity, have consistently remained a staple of the British concert repertoire, and virtually all of his major compositions, alongside a substantial number of his minor ones, have been meticulously recorded, ensuring their continued presence and appreciation.

Life and career

Early years

Vaughan Williams entered the world in Down Ampney , Gloucestershire, on 12 October 1872. He was the third child and younger son of the Reverend Arthur Vaughan Williams, the local vicar , and his wife, Margaret, née Wedgwood. [3] [n 2] His family tree, like many of the well-to-do, was a fascinating tangle of English and Welsh heritage, with a notable propensity for producing figures in the legal profession or the Church . Indeed, the esteemed judges Sir Edward and Sir Roland Vaughan Williams were, respectively, his paternal grandfather and uncle. [5] On his mother’s side, the lineage was equally distinguished, connecting him directly to intellectual giants: Margaret Vaughan Williams was a great-granddaughter of the pioneering industrialist Josiah Wedgwood and, even more remarkably, a niece of the revolutionary naturalist Charles Darwin . [n 3] One can only imagine the dinner table conversations.

[[File:Leith Hill Place, Surrey.jpg|thumb|Leith Hill Place, Surrey, Vaughan Williams’s childhood home]]

Tragedy struck early when Arthur Vaughan Williams died suddenly in February 1875, leaving Margaret a widow with young children. She subsequently moved with her offspring to her family home, Leith Hill Place, located in Wotton, Surrey . [6] Here, the children were primarily cared for by their nurse, Sara Wager, a woman who evidently instilled in them not only the expected polite manners and proper behaviour but also, perhaps less conventionally for the time, a robust set of liberal social and philosophical opinions. [7] Such progressive views, it seems, were perfectly consistent with the intellectual traditions of both sides of their distinguished family. A telling anecdote from his youth illustrates this open-mindedness: when the young Vaughan Williams, undoubtedly curious and perhaps a little apprehensive, inquired of his mother about Darwin’s then-controversial book, On the Origin of Species , her response was a model of enlightened pragmatism: “The Bible says that God made the world in six days. Great Uncle Charles thinks it took longer: but we need not worry about it, for it is equally wonderful either way”. [8] A rather sensible approach to the eternal conflict between faith and science, wouldn’t you agree?

His formal musical education commenced in 1878, at the tender age of five, with piano lessons from his aunt, Sophy Wedgwood. While he showed early signs of musical talent, even composing his first piece—a modest four-bar piano trifle titled “The Robin’s Nest”—in that same year, his enthusiasm for the piano itself was, shall we say, muted. He found more joy, and perhaps a clearer path, when he began violin lessons the following year. [6] [9] By 1880, at the age of eight, his precocity was such that he embarked on a correspondence course in music offered by Edinburgh University , successfully passing the associated examinations. One wonders if they knew they were teaching an eight-year-old.

In September 1883, he transitioned to boarding school, attending Field House preparatory school in Rottingdean , a coastal town in southern England, some forty miles (64 km) from Wotton. Though generally content there, this period marked his first encounter with the less agreeable aspects of society: the rigid hierarchies of social snobbery and the staunch political conservatism that permeated his fellow pupils. [10] From Rottingdean, he progressed to the more formidable environment of Charterhouse , a renowned public school , in January 1887. His academic performance and sporting prowess were deemed satisfactory, and, crucially, the school actively fostered his burgeoning musical development. In 1888, demonstrating early leadership and initiative, he organized a concert in the school hall, which included a performance of his G major Piano Trio (a work now regrettably lost), with the composer himself taking the role of violinist. [6]

It was during his formative years at Charterhouse that Vaughan Williams experienced a gradual but profound shift in his religious convictions. Initially, religion’s hold on him weakened considerably, leading him to a period of outright atheism . This stark position eventually softened into what he himself described as “a cheerful agnosticism ”, [12] a stance that allowed him to continue attending church regularly, primarily to spare his family any undue distress. His evolving views on formal religion, however, did not diminish his deep and abiding affection for the literary grandeur of the Authorised Version of the Bible . As his widow, Ursula Vaughan Williams , eloquently noted in her 1964 biography of the composer, the inherent beauty of its language remained “one of his essential companions through life.” [12] In this, as in so many other facets of his existence, he embodied, in the perceptive words of his biographer Michael Kennedy , “that extremely English product the natural nonconformist with a conservative regard for the best tradition”. [13] A description that could, frankly, apply to many of us.

Royal College of Music and Trinity College, Cambridge

[[File:Hubert Parry by George Frederick Watts.jpg|thumb|left|Hubert Parry, Vaughan Williams’s first composition teacher at the Royal College of Music ]]

In July 1890, Vaughan Williams departed Charterhouse and, that September, enrolled as a student at the prestigious Royal College of Music (RCM) in London. His curriculum began with a compulsory course in harmony under Francis Edward Gladstone , a professor of organ, counterpoint, and harmony. Following this, he pursued organ studies with Walter Parratt and, crucially, composition with Hubert Parry . Parry, a towering figure in British music at the time, became an object of profound admiration for the young Vaughan Williams. [14] He later recalled Parry’s impactful words in his Musical Autobiography (1950):

Parry once said to me: “Write choral music as befits an Englishman and a democrat”. We pupils of Parry have, if we have been wise, inherited from him the great English choral tradition, which Tallis passed on to Byrd , Byrd to Gibbons , Gibbons to Purcell , Purcell to Battishill and Greene , and they in their turn through the Wesleys, to Parry. He has passed on the torch to us and it is our duty to keep it alight. [15]

A rather heavy burden of inheritance, one might think, to be tasked with keeping such a venerable torch alight.

Vaughan Williams’s family, ever practical, had initially harboured different aspirations, preferring him to complete two more years at Charterhouse before proceeding to Cambridge University . They harboured understandable doubts about the viability of a full-time musical career, questioning whether his talent was truly sufficient for such an uncertain path. Yet, to their credit, they felt it would be wrong to actively obstruct his burgeoning ambitions, and thus granted him permission to attend the RCM. [n 4] Nonetheless, a university education remained an expectation, a traditional stepping stone. Consequently, in 1892, he temporarily suspended his RCM studies and matriculated at Trinity College, Cambridge , where he dedicated three years to the dual pursuit of music and history. [6]

During his stimulating time at Cambridge, Vaughan Williams cultivated friendships with a remarkable circle of intellectuals, including the philosophers G. E. Moore and Bertrand Russell , the eminent historian G. M. Trevelyan , and the musician Hugh Allen . [3] [17] While he candidly admitted to feeling intellectually overshadowed by some of his brilliant companions, he nevertheless absorbed a wealth of knowledge and insights from them, forging several lifelong friendships in the process. [18] Among his social acquaintances at Cambridge was Adeline Fisher, the daughter of Herbert Fisher , a long-standing friend of the Vaughan Williams family. Their connection deepened over time, and in June 1897, after his departure from Cambridge, they announced their engagement to be married. [19] [n 5]

[[File:Sir Charles Villiers Stanford.jpg|thumb|right|Charles Villiers Stanford, Vaughan Williams’s second composition teacher at the RCM]]

Even while at Cambridge, Vaughan Williams diligently continued his weekly composition lessons with Parry, and further honed his skills by studying composition with Charles Wood and organ with Alan Gray . He successfully earned his Bachelor of Music degree in 1894, followed by a Bachelor of Arts the subsequent year. [6] Upon completing his university education, he returned to the RCM to complete his musical training. By this time, Parry had ascended to the directorship of the college, succeeding Sir George Grove , and Vaughan Williams found himself under the tutelage of a new composition professor: Charles Villiers Stanford . The relationship between teacher and student, though undeniably stormy at times, was underpinned by a mutual, if sometimes gruff, affection. Stanford, who had been an adventurous spirit in his youth, had by this point settled into a deeply conservative musical outlook, leading to vigorous clashes with his more modern-minded pupil. Vaughan Williams, with characteristic independence, harboured no desire to simply emulate the traditions championed by Stanford’s idols, Brahms and Wagner , and he dared to challenge his teacher in a way few other students would. [21] Beneath Stanford’s stern exterior, however, lay a genuine recognition of Vaughan Williams’s considerable talent and a sincere desire to assist the young man in refining his often opaque orchestration and curbing his pronounced, almost obsessive, predilection for modal music . [22] A fine line to walk, between guidance and suppression of individual voice.

During his second enrollment at the RCM (1895–1896), Vaughan Williams formed a crucial acquaintance with a fellow student, Gustav Holst , a friendship that would endure and deepen throughout their lives. Stanford, a firm believer in the necessity of self-criticism, had emphasized this virtue to his students. Vaughan Williams and Holst, however, transcended this, becoming, and remaining, each other’s most trusted and valued critics; they would routinely share and scrutinize their latest compositions while still in progress. Vaughan Williams later reflected on this invaluable dynamic, observing, “What one really learns from an Academy or College is not so much from one’s official teachers as from one’s fellow-students… [we discussed] every subject under the sun from the lowest note of the double bassoon to the philosophy of Jude the Obscure ”. [23] In 1949, he further underscored the profound reciprocity of their relationship, writing, “Holst declared that his music was influenced by that of his friend: the converse is certainly true.” [24] A rare and enviable synergy, indeed.

Early career

[[File:Ralph Vaughan Williams 1898.jpg|thumb|Vaughan Williams in 1898]]

Possessing a modest private income, Vaughan Williams, in the initial stages of his career, supplemented his finances through a diverse range of musical activities. Despite the organ not being his instrument of choice – a fact he would later boast about, claiming to have “completely baffled” his distinguished organ teacher, Sir Walter Parratt [n 6] – the only salaried position he ever held was that of a church organist and choirmaster. He occupied this role at St Barnabas, situated in the inner London district of South Lambeth , from 1895 to 1899, for an annual salary of £50. While he found the job itself rather distasteful, the intensive, hands-on experience of working intimately with a choir proved to be an invaluable foundation for his extensive future choral endeavors. [25] Sometimes, the most tedious tasks yield the most crucial lessons.

[[File:Cheyne Walk Chelsea 1909.jpg|thumb|Vaughan Williams lived in Cheyne Walk , Chelsea , from 1905 to 1929]]

In October 1897, Adeline and Vaughan Williams exchanged vows. Their honeymoon stretched over several months in Berlin, where he continued his musical studies under the tutelage of Max Bruch , a composer known for his rich, Romantic style. [3] Upon their return to England, they established their home in London, initially in Westminster , before moving to Chelsea in 1905. The marriage, however, produced no children. [26]

By 1899, Vaughan Williams had successfully passed the examination for the degree of Doctor of Music at Cambridge, with the title formally conferred upon him in 1901. [26] [27] His song “Linden Lea” achieved the distinction of being his first published work, appearing initially in the magazine The Vocalist in April 1902, and subsequently released as separate sheet music. [6] [28] Beyond composition, he immersed himself in various capacities during the first decade of the 20th century. He contributed insightful articles to musical journals and to the second edition of the authoritative Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians . He also took on the editorial responsibility for the first volume of Purcell’s Welcome Songs for the Purcell Society , and for a period, engaged in adult education through the University Extension Lectures. From 1904 to 1906, he served as the music editor for a significant new publication, The English Hymnal , a task he later reflected upon, stating, “I now know that two years of close association with some of the best (as well as some of the worst) tunes in the world was a better musical education than any amount of sonatas and fugues”. [29] A rather pointed commentary on academic pursuits versus practical application. His unwavering commitment to fostering music-making across the entire community led him to co-found the amateur Leith Hill Musical Festival in 1905, where he was appointed its principal conductor, a post he steadfastly held until 1953. [3]

A truly formative period began in 1903–1904 when Vaughan Williams embarked on the crucial work of collecting folk-songs . His interest in these traditional melodies had always been present, but now he actively followed the path blazed by a recent generation of dedicated enthusiasts, such as Cecil Sharp and Lucy Broadwood . This involved venturing deep into the English countryside, meticulously noting down and transcribing songs that had been passed down through generations, traditionally sung in various local communities. [30] These invaluable collections of songs were subsequently published, ensuring the preservation of countless melodies and lyrics that might otherwise have vanished forever as oral traditions slowly faded. Vaughan Williams not only incorporated some of these authentic folk melodies directly into his own compositions but, more profoundly, found his entire compositional style influenced by their pervasive modal forms. [31] This deep engagement with folk music, coupled with his already established love for the rich tapestry of Tudor and Stuart era music, profoundly shaped his unique compositional voice for the remainder of his distinguished career. [3] It was a deliberate act of cultural reclamation.

Throughout this period, Vaughan Williams maintained a steady pace of composition, producing a diverse array of songs, choral music, chamber works, and orchestral pieces. He was gradually, painstakingly, forging the nascent elements of his mature and distinct style. [32] Among his compositions from this era were the atmospheric tone poem In the Fen Country (1904) and the vibrant Norfolk Rhapsody No. 1 (1906). [33] Yet, despite this productivity, he remained profoundly unsatisfied with his own compositional technique. After an unsuccessful attempt to secure lessons from Sir Edward Elgar , [34] whose established eminence might have offered a more ‘conventional’ path, he contemplated studying with Vincent d’Indy in Paris. However, fate, or perhaps good counsel, intervened. He was instead introduced by the astute critic and musicologist M. D. Calvocoressi to Maurice Ravel , a musician who was notably more modernist and, crucially, less dogmatic in his teaching approach than d’Indy. [34] A fortunate turn, indeed, for the trajectory of British music.

Ravel; rising fame; First World War

[[File:Maurice Ravel 1906.jpg|thumb|Maurice Ravel in 1906]]

Maurice Ravel , a composer of exquisite precision and subtle innovation, was notoriously selective with his pupils, and those he did accept found him to be a demanding taskmaster. [35] Vaughan Williams, ever the seeker of refinement, spent an intensive three months in Paris during the winter of 1907–1908, engaging in lessons with Ravel four or five times each week. [36] The historical record provides sparse documentation of the precise details of Vaughan Williams’s time under Ravel’s tutelage; the musicologist Byron Adams wisely cautions against placing too much reliance on Vaughan Williams’s own recollections, particularly those penned in his Musical Autobiography some forty-three years after the actual events. [37] The precise degree to which the French composer’s aesthetic influenced the Englishman’s burgeoning style remains a subject of ongoing debate among scholars. [38] Ravel himself, with characteristic wit, famously declared Vaughan Williams to be “my only pupil who does not write my music” [39] — a backhanded compliment, perhaps, but one that speaks volumes about Vaughan Williams’s resolute individuality. Nevertheless, numerous commentators, including Kennedy, Adams, Hugh Ottaway , and Alain Frogley, consistently observe a noticeable shift in Vaughan Williams’s instrumental textures after his return from Paris, finding them distinctly lighter and sharper. This newfound clarity is evident in works such as the String Quartet in G minor, On Wenlock Edge , the Overture to The Wasps , and the monumental A Sea Symphony . [31] [40] Vaughan Williams himself acknowledged Ravel’s profound impact, stating that the French master had helped him extricate himself from “the heavy contrapuntal Teutonic manner”. [41] A liberation, in essence, from the very weight of tradition.

In the pivotal years between his return from Paris in 1908 and the cataclysmic outbreak of the First World War in 1914, Vaughan Williams steadily and increasingly solidified his position as a prominent figure in British music. For any aspiring composer, securing performances at the major provincial music festivals was not merely a matter of prestige but a crucial mechanism for generating both invaluable publicity and much-needed royalties. [42] The year 1910 proved to be particularly significant for Vaughan Williams, as his music was showcased at two of the largest and most prestigious festivals of the era. September saw the premiere of his ethereal Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis at the venerable Three Choirs Festival in Gloucester Cathedral , a work that seemed to emerge fully formed from the mists of time. This was swiftly followed the next month by the unveiling of A Sea Symphony at the Leeds Festival . [43] [44] The leading British music critics of the day, J. A. Fuller Maitland of The Times and Samuel Langford of The Manchester Guardian , were unequivocal in their praise. Fuller Maitland, writing of the Fantasia, observed, “The work is wonderful because it seems to lift one into some unknown region of musical thought and feeling. Throughout its course one is never sure whether one is listening to something very old or very new”. [43] Langford, with equal conviction, declared that the symphony “definitely places a new figure in the first rank of our English composers”. [45] [n 7] Between these significant successes and the onset of hostilities, Vaughan Williams’s most ambitious work was the initial version of A London Symphony (1914). In that same fateful year, he also penned The Lark Ascending in its original, intimate form for violin and piano. [6]

[[File:Ralph Vaughan Williams 1913.jpg|thumb|Vaughan Williams in 1913]]

Despite his age—he was approaching forty-two in October, an age when many would seek to avoid the front lines—Vaughan Williams, with a profound sense of duty, volunteered for military service immediately upon the outbreak of the First World War in August 1914. Joining the Royal Army Medical Corps as a private , he endured the harrowing experience of serving as a stretcher bearer in an ambulance crew, initially in the muddy, blood-soaked fields of France, and later in Greece. [47] Frogley poignantly notes that during this period, Vaughan Williams was considerably older than the majority of his comrades, and “the back-breaking labour of dangerous night-time journeys through mud and rain must have been more than usually punishing”. [3] The war, as it did for so many, left an indelible emotional scar on Vaughan Williams, who mourned the loss of numerous comrades and friends, including the promising young composer George Butterworth . [48] In 1917, Vaughan Williams received a commission as a lieutenant in the Royal Artillery , subsequently seeing active combat in France from March 1918. The incessant, deafening roar of the artillery guns inflicted permanent damage to his hearing, a condition that regrettably escalated into severe deafness in his later years. [49] Following the armistice in 1918, he served with distinction as director of music for the British First Army until his demobilization in February 1919. [5] A period of profound upheaval, both for the man and his art.

Inter-war years

The war, with its unimaginable horrors, effectively silenced Vaughan Williams’s compositional voice for a time. Upon his return to civilian life, he required a period of readjustment before he felt creatively ready to embark on new works. He occupied himself by revisiting and revising some of his earlier pieces, and by redirecting his considerable energies towards other musical activities. In 1919, he accepted an invitation from Hugh Allen, who had succeeded Parry as director, to teach composition at the RCM, a role he fulfilled diligently for the next two decades. [50] [n 8] In 1921, he further stepped into a leadership role, succeeding Allen as conductor of The Bach Choir , London, an organization dedicated to the performance of choral music. It wasn’t until 1922 that he unveiled a truly major new composition, A Pastoral Symphony , a work that, despite its title, carried the quiet, melancholic echoes of the battlefields he had witnessed. The symphony received its first performance in London in May, conducted by Adrian Boult , and its American premiere in June, under the baton of the composer himself. [53]

[[File:Ralph Vaughan Williams 1922.jpg|thumb|Vaughan Williams in 1922]]

Throughout the 1920s, Vaughan Williams maintained a relentless pace, balancing his roles as composer, conductor, and educator. Kennedy’s meticulous records list an impressive forty works that premiered during this decade, showcasing the breadth and depth of his creative output. These included the profound Mass in G minor (1922), the whimsical ballet Old King Cole (1923), the operas Hugh the Drover and Sir John in Love (premiered in 1924 and 1928 respectively), the evocative suite Flos Campi (1925), and the powerful oratorio Sancta Civitas (1925). [54] A period of remarkable artistic fertility, consolidating his reputation.

As the decade drew to a close, Adeline’s condition, exacerbated by severe arthritis, led to increasing immobility. The numerous stairs in their London house became an insurmountable obstacle, prompting the Vaughan Williamses to relocate in 1929 to a more manageable home, “The White Gates,” in Dorking . They would reside there until Adeline’s passing in 1951. Vaughan Williams, who considered himself a quintessential Londoner, expressed sorrow at leaving the capital, but his wife’s desire for country living, coupled with Dorking’s reasonably convenient proximity to the city, made the move a practical necessity. [55] Even great artists are subject to the mundane realities of domestic life.

In 1932, Vaughan Williams was elected president of the English Folk Dance and Song Society , a fitting recognition of his profound contributions to preserving and integrating English folk culture. From September to December of that year, he journeyed to the United States as a distinguished visiting lecturer at Bryn Mawr College , Pennsylvania. [6] The content of these lectures was subsequently published in 1934 under the title National Music, a volume that comprehensively articulated his artistic and social credo more fully than any of his previous publications. This foundational text remained in print for the greater part of the 20th century, serving as a testament to his enduring influence and clarity of thought. [3]

As the 1930s unfolded, Vaughan Williams’s stature within British music grew to unparalleled heights, particularly following the deaths of his contemporaries Elgar , Delius , and his closest friend, Holst, all in 1934. [56] Holst’s death, in particular, was a devastating personal and professional blow. Since their college days, the two had been inseparable, serving as each other’s most trusted confidants and musical sounding boards. After this profound loss, Vaughan Williams found solace and support in other friends, including Boult and the composer Gerald Finzi , [57] but the unique and irreplaceable bond he shared with Holst left a void that could never be truly filled. [58] Such is the nature of true friendship.

Intriguingly, some of Vaughan Williams’s music from the 1930s reveals an explicitly darker, even violent, tone, a stark departure from the pastoral tranquility many had come to associate with him. The ballet Job: A Masque for Dancing (1930) and the Fourth Symphony (1935) profoundly surprised both the public and critics alike with their stark intensity. [31] The discordant and often violent character of the symphony, composed during a period of escalating international tension, led many critics to speculate that it was programmatic , attempting to convey a specific narrative or message. Hubert Foss famously dubbed it “The Romantic,” while Frank Howes went further, calling it “The Fascist.” [59] The composer, however, vehemently dismissed such interpretations, insisting that the work was absolute music , devoid of any external program. Nonetheless, some of those closest to him, including Foss and Boult, remained convinced that the troubled spirit of the age had, perhaps unconsciously, found its way into the fabric of the work. [59] [n 9] Art, it seems, often speaks truths even its creator doesn’t explicitly intend.

As the decade wore on, Vaughan Williams found himself grappling with a distinct lack of musical inspiration, experiencing his first truly fallow period since the creative silence imposed by wartime service. Following his powerful anti-war cantata Dona nobis pacem in 1936, he did not complete another work of substantial length until late 1941, when the initial version of the profoundly meditative Fifth Symphony finally saw completion. [3] Even the most prolific minds require periods of quiet gestation.

A new, deeply personal chapter began in 1938 when Vaughan Williams met Ursula Wood (1911–2007), the wife of an army officer, Captain (later Lieutenant-Colonel) Michael Forrester Wood. [61] Ursula, a talented poet, had initially approached the composer with a proposed scenario for a ballet. Despite both being married and separated by a considerable four-decade age gap, they fell deeply in love almost from their very first encounter, embarking on a secret love affair that would endure for more than a decade. [62] Ursula swiftly became the composer’s muse, an invaluable helper, and his companion in London. Later, with a remarkable and perhaps bewildering generosity of spirit, she even assisted him in caring for his ailing first wife. Whether Adeline was aware, or even suspected, the nature of Ursula and Vaughan Williams’s relationship remains uncertain, but the relations between the two women were, by all accounts, characterized by warm friendship throughout the years they knew each other. The composer’s profound devotion to his first wife, according to Ursula herself, never wavered, a fact she openly admitted in the 1980s, confessing that she had, at times, felt jealous of Adeline, whose place in Vaughan Williams’s life and affections was, by her own estimation, unchallengeable. [62] A complex, deeply human arrangement, indeed, defying easy categorization.

1939–1952

During the tumultuous years of the Second World War , Vaughan Williams, though advanced in age, remained remarkably active in civilian war work, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to his fellow citizens. He chaired the vital Home Office Committee for the Release of Interned Alien Musicians, a compassionate effort to aid those displaced by conflict. He lent his considerable influence and organizational skills to Myra Hess in the coordination of the immensely popular daily National Gallery concerts, which provided much-needed solace and cultural enrichment during wartime. He served on a committee dedicated to assisting refugees fleeing Nazi oppression, and contributed his expertise to the Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts (CEMA), the direct forerunner of the modern Arts Council . In a testament to his hands-on approach, he even drove a lorry to collect scrap metal, a tangible contribution to the war effort. [6] In 1940, he composed his first film score, for the compelling drama 49th Parallel , a cinematic tribute to Canada’s essential contribution to the Allied cause. [63]

In 1942, Michael Wood, Ursula’s husband, died suddenly of heart failure. At Adeline’s explicit behest, the recently widowed Ursula was invited to stay with the Vaughan Williamses in Dorking, and thereafter became a regular visitor, sometimes residing with them for weeks at a time. The critic Michael White suggests, with a certain dry observation, that Adeline “appears, in the most amicable way, to have adopted Ursula as her successor”. [64] Ursula herself recounted a poignant detail from this period: during air raids, all three—Vaughan Williams, Adeline, and Ursula—would sleep in the same room, in adjacent beds, holding hands for mutual comfort. [64] A testament to the strange, resilient bonds forged in extraordinary circumstances.

[[File:Pilgrim’s Progress title page.jpg|thumb|The Pilgrim’s Progress – inspiration to Vaughan Williams across forty-five years]]

In 1943, Vaughan Williams conducted the premiere of his Fifth Symphony at the renowned Proms . Its profoundly serene and meditative tone offered a stark contrast to the turbulent, often violent, character of his preceding Fourth Symphony, leading some commentators to mistakenly interpret it as a symphonic valediction, a final, peaceful farewell. William Glock famously wrote that it was “like the work of a distinguished poet who has nothing very new to say, but says it in exquisitely flowing language”. [65] A rather dismissive assessment, one might argue, of a work of such quiet profundity. The music Vaughan Williams composed for the BBC to commemorate the end of the war, Thanksgiving for Victory, was notably characterized by what the critic Edward Lockspeiser termed the composer’s “characteristic avoidance of any suggestion of rhetorical pompousness”. [66]

However, any lingering suspicion that the septuagenarian composer had gracefully settled into benign tranquility was decisively dispelled by the arrival of his Sixth Symphony in 1948. This work was described by the critic Gwyn Parry-Jones as “one of the most disturbing musical statements of the 20th century”, commencing with a “primal scream, plunging the listener immediately into a world of aggression and impending chaos.” [67] Premiering as it did near the nascent stages of the Cold War , many critics, eager to find external meaning, interpreted its haunting, pianissimo last movement as a chilling depiction of a nuclear-scorched wasteland. [68] The composer, however, remained characteristically dismissive of such programmatic theories, offering a blunt and universally applicable retort: “It never seems to occur to people that a man might just want to write a piece of music.” [69] A sentiment one can certainly appreciate.

In 1951, Adeline, his first wife, passed away at the age of eighty. [70] In that same year, Vaughan Williams’s final opera, The Pilgrim’s Progress , was staged at Covent Garden as a central component of the Festival of Britain . This was the culmination of more than forty-five years of intermittent work on a musical adaptation of John Bunyan ’s enduring religious allegory, with the 1951 “morality” being the ultimate realization of this lifelong project. The reviews, while generally respectful, [71] indicated that the work failed to capture the imagination of the opera-going public. Alain Frogley, with a touch of exasperation, described the Royal Opera House’s production as “insultingly half-hearted.” [3] Despite a revival the following year, the opera still struggled to achieve significant success. Vaughan Williams, with a resigned yet defiant air, commented to Ursula, “They don’t like it, they won’t like it, they don’t want an opera with no heroine and no love duets—and I don’t care, it’s what I meant, and there it is.” [72] A true artist’s unwavering commitment to his vision, regardless of public reception.

Second marriage and last years

In February 1953, Vaughan Williams and Ursula were married. [n 10] He departed from the Dorking house that had been his home for decades, and they took a lease on 10 Hanover Terrace , overlooking Regent’s Park in London. This significant year also marked Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation ; Vaughan Williams’s musical contribution to the grand occasion included a majestic arrangement of the ancient Old Hundredth psalm tune, and a newly composed setting of “O taste and see” from Psalm 34 , both performed during the solemn service in Westminster Abbey . [73]

[[File:Ralph Vaughan Williams signing the guest book at Yale University in 1954.jpg|thumb|Vaughan Williams signing the guest book at Yale University in 1954]]

Having returned to reside in the vibrant heart of London, Vaughan Williams, actively encouraged by Ursula, embraced a significantly more active social life and engaged in numerous pro bono publico activities. He became a leading figure in the Society for the Promotion of New Music , [74] a testament to his enduring belief in nurturing nascent talent. In 1956, demonstrating his practical commitment, he established and generously endowed the RVW Trust, specifically designed to support young composers and champion the performance of new or unjustly neglected music. [75] [n 11] Together, he and his wife embarked on extensive travels across Europe, and in 1954, he revisited the United States, invited to deliver lectures at prestigious institutions like Cornell University and other universities, and to conduct. He was met with an overwhelmingly enthusiastic welcome from large audiences, expressing genuine astonishment at the warmth of his reception. [76] Kennedy aptly describes this tour as “like a musical state occasion”. [77]

Of Vaughan Williams’s prolific output from the 1950s, Grove Music Online singles out several works for particular commendation. These include the intricate Three Shakespeare Songs (1951) for unaccompanied chorus, the celebratory Christmas cantata Hodie (1953–1954), the Violin Sonata, and, perhaps most notably, the Ten Blake Songs (1957) for voice and oboe, which are lauded as “a masterpiece of economy and precision”. [31] Unfinished projects from this busy decade included a cello concerto and a new opera, Thomas the Rhymer. [78] However, the dominant creative achievements of the 1950s were, without question, his final three symphonies, a remarkable feat for a composer of his advanced age. The seventh—officially unnumbered, and titled Sinfonia antartica —proved to be a work that consistently divided critical opinion; its score was a reworking of music Vaughan Williams had originally composed for the 1948 film Scott of the Antarctic , leading some critics to question its true symphonic integrity. [31] The Eighth Symphony , while containing wistful passages, is predominantly characterized by a lighthearted tone; it was received with enthusiastic acclaim at its premiere in 1956, performed by the distinguished Hallé Orchestra under the baton of its dedicatee, Sir John Barbirolli . [79] His final symphony, the Ninth , premiered at a Royal Philharmonic Society concert conducted by Sir Malcolm Sargent in April 1958. This work initially puzzled critics with its sombre, often questing, tone, and did not immediately achieve the widespread recognition and appreciation it would later deservedly gain. [31]

Having enjoyed remarkably excellent health for much of his life, Vaughan Williams died suddenly in the early hours of 26 August 1958 at Hanover Terrace, at the venerable age of 85. [80] Two days later, following a private funeral service at Golders Green , his body was cremated. On 19 September, in a crowded and poignant memorial service, his ashes were interred near the burial plots of his esteemed predecessors, Purcell and Stanford, in the north choir aisle of Westminster Abbey . [81] [82] A final, fitting resting place for a titan of English music.

Music

• See also: List of compositions by Ralph Vaughan Williams and Vaughan Williams and English folk music

[[File:Tallis Fantasia opening.jpg|thumb|Opening of Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, 1910]]

Michael Kennedy astutely characterizes Vaughan Williams’s music as a powerfully individual synthesis, seamlessly blending the archaic, resonant modal harmonies familiar from folk-song with the more refined, often impressionistic, influences gleaned from his studies with Maurice Ravel and the broader currents of Debussy . At the very core of his compositional philosophy lay melody, though Kennedy, with a critical eye, concedes that his rhythms could, at times, be rather unsubtle. [83] Perhaps subtlety was not always the point; sometimes, directness is more effective. Vaughan Williams’s music is frequently described as visionary, a term that, while often overused, seems particularly apt in his case. [n 12] Kennedy specifically cites the dramatic masque Job , and the profound emotional landscapes of the Fifth and Ninth Symphonies as prime examples of this visionary quality. [83]

His creative output was nothing short of prolific and remarkably wide-ranging. For the human voice, he composed an extensive catalog of songs, operas, and choral works, spanning from simpler pieces perfectly suited for amateur ensembles to highly demanding compositions requiring professional choruses of exceptional skill. His comparatively small collection of chamber works, however, are not generally counted among his more widely recognized or frequently performed compositions. [90] Interestingly, some of his finest achievements defy conventional categorization altogether, showcasing his willingness to push boundaries. These include the exquisite Serenade to Music (1938) for sixteen solo singers and orchestra; the enigmatic Flos Campi (1925) for solo viola, small orchestra, and small chorus; and what, in Frank Howes’s estimation, stands as his most important chamber work—not purely instrumental, but rather a profoundly integrated song cycle—On Wenlock Edge (1909), featuring an unusual yet highly effective accompaniment for string quartet and piano. [5]

In 1955, the discerning authors of The Record Guide, Edward Sackville-West and Desmond Shawe-Taylor , offered a penetrating analysis of Vaughan Williams’s musical signature, asserting that his music evinced an exceptionally strong and unequivocally individual voice. They observed that Vaughan Williams’s style was “not remarkable for grace or politeness or inventive colour”, a rather blunt but accurate assessment. Instead, they argued, it expressed “a consistent vision in which thought and feeling and their equivalent images in music never fall below a certain high level of natural distinction”. They further elaborated that the composer’s unique vision was primarily articulated through two main, contrasting emotional modalities: “the one contemplative and trance-like, the other pugnacious and sinister”. The former mood, generally more prevalent throughout his extensive output, proved to be significantly more popular with audiences, who gravitated towards “the stained-glass beauty of the Tallis Fantasia, the direct melodic appeal of the Serenade to Music, the pastoral poetry of The Lark Ascending, and the grave serenity of the Fifth Symphony”. By stark contrast, they noted that, as demonstrated in the ferocious intensity of the Fourth and Sixth Symphonies and the demanding Concerto for Two Pianos , “in his grimmer moods Vaughan Williams can be as frightening as Sibelius and Bartók ”. [91] A rather high bar for “frightening,” but one he undeniably cleared.

Symphonies

It is, without a doubt, as a symphonist that Vaughan Williams achieved his most enduring recognition and is most widely known. [5] The composer and academic Elliott Schwartz , writing in 1964, made a rather bold and prescient statement: “It may be said with truth that Vaughan Williams, Sibelius and Prokofieff are the symphonists of this century”. [92] While Vaughan Williams did not complete the first of his nine symphonies until he was thirty-eight years old—a relatively late start for a composer of his eventual stature—this monumental cycle ultimately spans nearly half a century of his incredibly productive creative life. In his 1964 analytical study of the nine works, Schwartz found it particularly striking that no two of the symphonies are alike, either in their structural design or their prevailing emotional tenor. [93] For the sake of clarity, commentators have often found it useful to group the nine symphonies into three distinct sets of three—an early, a middle, and a late period—each reflecting different phases of his artistic development. [94]

Sea, London and Pastoral Symphonies (1910–1922)

The initial three symphonies, to which Vaughan Williams deliberately assigned evocative titles rather than mere numbers, [n 13] collectively form a distinct sub-group within the larger cycle of nine. They are characterized by pronounced programmatic elements, a feature largely absent from the subsequent six, which lean more towards absolute music. [94]

• A Sea Symphony (1910), a truly ambitious undertaking, stands alone in the series for its integral inclusion of a part for full choir. It departs significantly from most earlier choral symphonies by having the choir participate in all four movements, rather than being confined to a single, often climactic, finale. [5] [96] The extent to which it can be considered a “true” symphony has been a topic of some debate among musicologists; in a comprehensive 2013 study, Alain Frogley describes it as a hybrid work, skillfully blending elements of symphony, oratorio, and cantata. [96] Its sheer length—approximately eighty minutes—was unprecedented for an English symphonic work, pushing the boundaries of what was expected. Furthermore, within its thoroughly tonal construction, it boldly incorporates harmonic dissonances that strikingly pre-echo the innovative early works of Stravinsky , which would soon follow and redefine the musical landscape. [97] A prophetic work, in more ways than one.

• A London Symphony (1911–1913), a work that the composer later observed might more accurately be titled a “symphony by a Londoner,” [98] is for the most part not overtly pictorial in its musical depiction of the bustling metropolis. Vaughan Williams staunchly maintained that it is “self-expressive, and must stand or fall as ‘absolute’ music”. [99] Nevertheless, there are undeniable, fleeting references to the vibrant urban soundscape embedded within the score: brief, evocative impressions of street music, with the distinctive sound of the barrel organ cleverly mimicked by the orchestra; the characteristic, almost haunting chant of the lavender-seller; the cheerful jingle of hansom cabs ; and the iconic chimes of Big Ben rendered with delicate precision by harp and clarinet. [100] Beyond these surface details, commentators have often discerned—and the composer, notably, neither confirmed nor denied—a subtle undercurrent of social commentary. This can be heard in the sinister echoes at the conclusion of the scherzo and a powerful orchestral outburst of pain and despair that opens the finale, suggesting the darker, more challenging aspects of city life. [101] Schwartz aptly comments that the symphony, in its “unified presentation of widely heterogeneous elements,” is “very much like the city itself”. [102] Vaughan Williams, in his later years, revealed that this particular symphony held a special place in his affections, considering it his favourite among the nine. [n 14]

• The final work of this initial group is A Pastoral Symphony (1921). The first three movements are composed for orchestra alone, creating an atmosphere of quiet contemplation. A poignant, wordless solo soprano or tenor voice is introduced in the finale, adding a layer of ethereal lament. Despite its tranquil title, the symphony draws surprisingly little on the cheerful folk-songs so beloved by the composer. Indeed, the pastoral landscape evoked is not a serene, idealized English scene, but rather the haunting, ravaged French countryside, still bearing the scars of war. [104] Some English musicians who had not experienced the horrors of the First World War firsthand fundamentally misunderstood the work, perceiving only its slow tempi and hushed tone, and consequently failing to grasp the profound character of a requiem embedded within the music. They mistook the piece for a mere rustic idyll, a misinterpretation that the composer found deeply frustrating. [n 15] Kennedy rightly comments that it was not until after the Second World War that “the spectral ‘Last Post’ in the second movement and the girl’s lamenting voice in the finale” were widely recognized and their true, mournful significance understood. [105] A stark reminder that context is everything.

Symphonies 4–6 (1935–1948)

The middle three symphonies, distinct from their programmatic predecessors, are purely orchestral in conception and generally adhere to more conventional formal structures. They typically employ sonata form (though with occasional modifications), feature specified home keys , and maintain a standard four-movement architecture. [106] The orchestral forces required for these works are not unduly large by the standards of the first half of the 20th century, although the Fourth Symphony notably calls for an augmented woodwind section, and the Sixth daringly incorporates a part for tenor saxophone , a somewhat unconventional choice for a symphony at the time. [107]

• The Fourth Symphony (1935) burst onto the scene, astonishing listeners with its stark, often brutal dissonance, a world away from the prevailing quiet, introspective tone of the previous symphony. [108] The composer, in a rare moment of explicit clarification, firmly contradicted any notions that the work was programmatic in any respect, insisting on its absolute nature. Kennedy, echoing this sentiment, dismisses attempts to assign the work “a meretricious programme… a poor compliment to its musical vitality and self-sufficiency”. [109] It is, in essence, a pure, unadulterated expression of musical force, without need for external narrative.

• The Fifth Symphony (1943) presented a complete and profound contrast to its turbulent predecessor. Vaughan Williams had, for many years, been working intermittently on his operatic version of Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. Fearing—wrongly, as it ultimately transpired—that the opera might never reach completion, he ingeniously reworked some of the music already composed for it into this new symphony. Despite the subtle internal tensions arising from the deliberate conflict of modality in certain passages, the work is overwhelmingly serene in character, imbued with a profound sense of peace. It was particularly well received, offering much-needed comfort and spiritual balm at a time of all-out global war. [110] Neville Cardus later encapsulated its essence, writing, “The Fifth Symphony contains the most benedictory and consoling music of our time.” [111]

• With the Sixth Symphony (1948), Vaughan Williams, with characteristic defiance, once again confounded expectations. Many had, quite reasonably, viewed the Fifth Symphony, composed when he was seventy, as a valedictory work, a peaceful culmination. The turbulent, troubled, and often aggressive character of the Sixth therefore came as a profound shock. Following violent orchestral clashes in the first movement, the obsessive ostinato of the second, and the undeniably “diabolic” scherzo, the finale proved particularly perplexing for many listeners. Described as “one of the strangest journeys ever undertaken in music”, [112] it is uniquely marked pianissimo throughout its entire 10–12-minute duration, fading into an unsettling, almost existential silence. [n 16]

Sinfonia antartica, Symphonies 8 and 9 (1952–1957)

The seventh symphony, the Sinfonia antartica (1952), stands as a direct byproduct of the composer’s score for the 1948 film Scott of the Antarctic. This origin has consistently fuelled critical debate regarding whether it can be properly classified as a symphony in the traditional sense. [113] Alain Frogley, in his entry for Grove Music Online, argues that while the work possesses the capacity to make a deep and lasting impression on the listener, it functions neither as a true symphony in the understood academic sense of the term nor as a straightforward tone poem, and is consequently, in his estimation, the least successful of Vaughan Williams’s mature symphonies. The work is structured in five movements, and notably incorporates wordless vocal lines for both female chorus and solo soprano in its first and last movements, adding an ethereal, often chilling, dimension. [31] In addition to substantial woodwind and percussion sections, the score famously features a prominent and evocative part for a wind machine , conjuring the desolate, icy landscapes of the Antarctic. [114] A rather literal, yet effective, use of orchestration.

The Eighth Symphony (1956) in D minor marks a noticeable departure from its seven predecessors by virtue of its comparative brevity and, despite its minor key, its generally light-hearted and optimistic tone. The orchestral forces employed are smaller than for most of his symphonies, with the notable exception of the percussion section, which is particularly expansive. As Vaughan Williams himself wryly put it, it includes “all the ‘phones’ and ‘spiels’ known to the composer”—a delightful, if somewhat vague, inventory. [115] The work was received with enthusiastic acclaim at its early performances and has, perhaps due to its approachable charm, remained among Vaughan Williams’s most popular compositions. [115] [116]

His final symphony, the Ninth , was completed in late 1957 and premiered in April 1958, a mere four months before the composer’s death. It is scored for a large orchestra, featuring an unusual and distinctive inclusion of three saxophones, a flugelhorn , and an expanded percussion section. The prevailing mood is more sombre and introspective than that of the Eighth, imbued with a sense of profound contemplation. Grove describes its emotional landscape as “at once heroic and contemplative, defiant and wistfully absorbed”. [31] The work received an ovation at its premiere, [117] yet initially, critics were somewhat unsure how to interpret its complex emotional tapestry. It took some years for the Ninth Symphony to be generally ranked alongside its eight formidable predecessors, a common fate for works that challenge immediate understanding. [118]

Other orchestral music

• External media
  • Audio The Lark Ascending
  • Fantasia on Greensleeves
  • Video Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis

[[File:Vaughan Williams 1919 by William Rothenstein.jpg|thumb|Vaughan Williams in 1919, by William Rothenstein ]]

Grove Music Online meticulously catalogues more than thirty works by Vaughan Williams specifically composed for orchestra or band, extending beyond the scope of his celebrated symphonies. Among these are two of his most enduringly popular and frequently performed works: the transcendent Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis (1910, revised in 1919), a piece that seems to float outside of time, and the exquisitely lyrical The Lark Ascending , originally conceived for violin and piano in 1914, and subsequently orchestrated in 1920 to widespread acclaim. [119]

Other orchestral works that have firmly established themselves within the repertoire, particularly in Britain, include the evocative Norfolk Rhapsody No 1 (1905–1906), a work steeped in the melodies of the English countryside; The Wasps (An Aristophanic Suite) (1909)—with its overture proving especially popular for its vivacity and charm; the delightful English Folk Song Suite (1923), which showcases his mastery of folk idiom; and the ever-popular Fantasia on Greensleeves (1934), a perennial favourite that captures the essence of English pastoral beauty. [31]

Vaughan Williams also contributed four concertos to the repertoire: one for violin (1925), another for piano (1926), an elegant oboe concerto (1944), and a surprisingly agile tuba concerto (1954). Additionally, he composed a distinctive concertante piece, his “Romance for harmonica , strings and piano” (1951), written specifically for the virtuoso Larry Adler . [31] However, it must be conceded that none of these individual works has managed to rival the widespread popularity and enduring appeal of his symphonies or the shorter, more accessible orchestral pieces mentioned previously. [n 17] The Piano Concerto , dedicated to and championed by the formidable Harriet Cohen , even garnered admiration from a composer of Bartók ’s stature. Yet, despite this high praise, it has regrettably remained, in the words of critic Andrew Achenbach, a “neglected masterpiece.” [121] A lamentable fate for such a compelling work.

Beyond his concert hall compositions, Vaughan Williams also ventured into the realm of film, composing incidental music for no fewer than eleven films. His scores range from the aforementioned 49th Parallel (1941) to The Vision of William Blake (1957), showcasing his versatility and willingness to adapt his distinct voice to different artistic mediums. [31]

Chamber and instrumental

When compared to his extensive output in other genres, Vaughan Williams’s contributions to chamber ensembles and solo instruments constitute a relatively small, though not insignificant, portion of his oeuvre. Grove Music Online lists twenty-four pieces under the broad heading “Chamber and instrumental,” with three of these being early, unpublished works that offer glimpses into his formative years. [31] It is noteworthy that Vaughan Williams, like many of the leading British 20th-century composers of his generation, did not feel a particular affinity for the solo piano as a primary compositional vehicle, and consequently wrote little for it. [n 18]

From his mature period, several notable works for standard chamber groupings have survived and are occasionally performed. These include two string quartets (the first composed in 1908–1909, later revised in 1921; and the second in 1943–1944), a distinctive “phantasy” string quintet (1912), and a sonata for violin and piano (1954). The first quartet, written shortly after Vaughan Williams’s pivotal studies in Paris with Maurice Ravel , clearly exhibits the strong influence of the French master’s refined textures and harmonic sensibilities. [n 19] In 2002, the esteemed magazine Gramophone , with a touch of exasperation at its neglect, described the second quartet as a masterpiece that “should be, but is not, part of the international chamber repertory”. [123] This quartet, composed during the same period as the turbulent Sixth Symphony , shares something of that work’s stark severity and underlying anguish. [124] The quintet (1912) emerged two years after the resounding success of the Tallis Fantasia , with which it shares certain commonalities, both in its imaginative instrumental layout and its prevailing mood of rapt, almost spiritual, contemplation. [125] The later violin sonata, however, has regrettably made relatively little impact on the concert stage. [126]

Vocal music

Ursula Vaughan Williams , a poet herself and intimately familiar with her husband’s intellectual passions, eloquently articulated his profound love of literature. She provided a revealing, though by no means exhaustive, list of some of his most cherished writers and literary works, demonstrating the breadth and depth of his engagement with the written word:

• From Skelton and Chaucer , Sidney , Spenser , the Authorised Version of the Bible, the madrigal poets, the anonymous poets, to Shakespeare—inevitably and devotedly—on to Herbert and his contemporaries, Milton , Bunyan, and Shelley , Tennyson , Swinburne , both Rossettis , Whitman , Barnes , Hardy and Housman . [127]

Beyond this deep appreciation for poetry, Vaughan Williams’s vocal music is fundamentally inspired by his lifelong conviction that the human voice, in its purest form, “can be made the medium of the best and deepest human emotion.” [128] A rather profound, and accurate, observation.

Songs

Between the mid-1890s and the late 1950s, Vaughan Williams composed musical settings for more than eighty poems, primarily for voice and piano accompaniment. The earliest of these to have survived, offering a glimpse into his nascent compositional style, is “A Cradle Song,” set to the evocative words of Samuel Taylor Coleridge , dating from approximately 1894. [31] His extensive catalog of songs includes many that have deservedly entered the standard vocal repertory, cherished by singers and audiences alike. These include the beloved “Linden Lea” (1902), the exquisitely tender “Silent Noon” (1904), and the enduringly popular song cycles Songs of Travel (composed in two parts, 1905 and 1907) and On Wenlock Edge . [129]

To Vaughan Williams, the human voice was not merely an instrument but “the oldest and greatest of musical instruments.” [130] He himself described his early songs as “more or less simple and popular in character,” [131] and the musicologist Sophie Fuller observes that this commitment to simplicity and widespread appeal remained a consistent thread throughout his entire career. [132] While many composers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries often gravitated towards sentimental works for female voice, Vaughan Williams, with characteristic robustness, offered a refreshing contrast. Songs such as “The Vagabond” from Songs of Travel, set to the stirring words of Robert Louis Stevenson , are described by Fuller as “a particularly masculine breath of fresh air” and by Kennedy as “virile open-air verses.” [133] A welcome antidote to saccharine sentimentality. Some of Vaughan Williams’s later songs, however, are less frequently performed and consequently less well known. Fuller specifically highlights the cycle Three Poems by Walt Whitman, a largely dark and introspective work, as one that is “too often overlooked” by both singers and critics, a lamentable oversight given its profound emotional depth. [134] For certain of his songs, the composer expanded the accompaniment beyond the solo piano, incorporating two or more string instruments to create richer textures. These include the aforementioned On Wenlock Edge, and the exquisite Chaucer cycle Merciless Beauty (1921), which an anonymous contemporary critic, with admirable prescience, judged as “surely among the best of modern English songs.” [134]

Choral music

[[File:Vaughan Williams statue.jpg|thumb|Statue of Vaughan Williams by William Fawke , Dorking ]]

Despite his stated agnosticism , a philosophical stance that might seem at odds with sacred composition, Vaughan Williams composed a remarkable number of works specifically intended for church performance. This apparent paradox merely underscores his deep appreciation for the beauty of sacred texts and the power of communal worship, irrespective of personal belief. His two most widely recognized hymn tunes, both dating from around 1905, are “Down Ampney,” set to the profound words “Come Down, O Love Divine ,” and “Sine nomine,” famously paired with “For All the Saints .” [135] Grove Music Online lists a dozen more of his hymn tunes, composed between 1905 and 1935, demonstrating his sustained contribution to congregational singing. Other notable church works include a Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis (1925), the majestic Mass in G minor (1920–1921), a Te Deum (1928), [31] and the motets O Clap Your Hands (1920), Lord, Thou hast been our Refuge (1921), and O Taste and See (1953), the latter famously receiving its first performance at the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. [136]

Vaughan Williams’s extensive choral works for concert performance encompass settings of both secular and religious texts, demonstrating his versatility and broad appeal. Among the secular category, one finds Toward the Unknown Region, set to the expansive words of Walt Whitman (composed 1904–1906), the vibrant Five Tudor Portraits , using texts by the irreverent John Skelton (1935), and the sublime Shakespearean Serenade to Music (in its alternative version for chorus and orchestra, 1938). Choral pieces drawing on religious words include the monumental oratorio Sancta Civitas (1923–1925), a work of profound spiritual contemplation, and the festive Christmas cantata Hodie (1954). In 1953, the composer himself declared that, of all his choral works, Sancta Civitas was his personal favourite, a testament to its deeply held significance for him. [137] The powerful Dona Nobis Pacem , an impassioned anti-war cantata composed in 1936, represents a unique combination of both secular and sacred, with words from Whitman and other poets juxtaposed with poignant extracts from the Latin mass. This innovative blending of diverse textual sources remarkably anticipated a similar mixture of sacred and secular text in Benjamin Britten ’s iconic War Requiem some twenty-five years later, showcasing Vaughan Williams’s prescient artistic vision. [138]

Stage works

Vaughan Williams harboured a distinct wariness of conventional labels, a characteristic trait of independent minds. His most celebrated ballet, for instance, is deliberately described on its title page as “a masque for dancing,” subtly avoiding the more common ballet designation. Similarly, only one of his operatic works is straightforwardly categorized by the composer himself as simply an “opera.” For several of his theatrical pieces that could easily fall under the umbrella of operas or ballets, he evinced a clear preference for more specific, often archaic, terms such as “masque,” “romantic extravaganza,” “play set to music,” or “morality.” [n 20] One can appreciate the desire for precision, even if it leads to semantic complexity.

In a comprehensive 2013 survey of Vaughan Williams’s stage works, Eric Saylor delivers a rather candid assessment: “With the possible exception of Tchaikovsky , no composer’s operatic career was less emblematic of his success elsewhere.” [140] While Vaughan Williams was an avid opera-goer, possessing an enthusiastic and knowledgeable appreciation for works by operatic masters from Mozart to Wagner and Verdi , his own success in the challenging operatic field was, at best, decidedly patchy. There is widespread consensus among commentators that this unevenness was partly attributable to the composer’s sometimes unfortunate choice of librettists for some, though certainly not all, of his operas. [141] Another contributing factor was his commendable, yet occasionally detrimental, keenness to encourage amateur and student groups, which regrettably sometimes resulted in the staging of his operas with less than professional standards. [140] A further, more intrinsic factor was the composer’s openly expressed preference for “slow, long tableaux,” a stylistic choice that, while perhaps lending itself to contemplation, tended to diminish dramatic impact. He believed these extended musical passages were essential, however, as “music takes a long time to speak—much longer than words by themselves.” [142] A valid point, but one that audiences, particularly opera audiences, often find difficult to reconcile with dramatic urgency.

• Hugh the Drover, or Love in the Stocks (completed 1919, premiere 1924) features a libretto by the writer and theatre critic Harold Child, which The Stage newspaper aptly described as “replete with folksy, Cotswold village archetypes.” [143] In the view of the critic Richard Traubner , the piece occupies a fascinating stylistic crossroads, blending elements of traditional ballad opera with the more sophisticated approaches of Puccini and Ravel, yielding “rhapsodic results.” The score ingeniously incorporates both genuine and pastiche folk-songs, yet culminates in a passionate love duet that Traubner considers to have few equals in English opera. [144] Its initial performance, by students at the Royal College of Music, underscores Vaughan Williams’s commitment to amateur involvement, though this has meant the work is rarely staged by major professional companies. [143]

• Old King Cole (1923) is a spirited and humorous ballet. The score, which liberally employs traditional folk-song melodies, was initially perceived by critics as strikingly modern upon its first hearing. Kennedy, with a touch of affectionate dismissal, comments that the music “is not a major work but it is fun.” While the piece has not been frequently seen since its premiere, it enjoyed a revival in a student production at the RCM in 1937, demonstrating its enduring, if modest, appeal. [145]

• On Christmas Night (1926), a masque collaboratively created by Adolph Bolm and Vaughan Williams, is an ambitious synthesis of singing, dancing, and mime. Its narrative is loosely adapted from Charles Dickens ’s beloved A Christmas Carol . [146] The piece received its inaugural performance in Chicago by Bolm’s company, with its London premiere following in 1935. Saylor, with perhaps a hint of weariness, describes the work as a “dramatic hodgepodge” that has, predictably, failed to attract the sustained interest of later performers. [147]

• The only work that the composer unequivocally designated as an “opera” is the delightful comedy Sir John in Love (1924–1928). It draws its narrative directly from William Shakespeare ’s boisterous The Merry Wives of Windsor . Folk-song elements are employed here, though with greater subtlety and discretion than in Hugh the Drover, and the score is described by Saylor as “ravishingly tuneful.” [148] While versions of Shakespeare’s play had previously been set by composers such as Nicolai , Verdi, and Holst, Vaughan Williams’s rendition is distinctive for its heightened emphasis on the tender love music, rather than solely on the robust comedy. [149] In 1931, with the Leith Hill Festival in mind, the composer ingeniously recast some of the opera’s most appealing music as a five-section cantata, In Windsor Forest, offering the public “the plums and no cake,” as he rather charmingly put it. [150] A pragmatic approach to artistic dissemination.

• The Poisoned Kiss (composed 1927–1929, premiered in 1936) is a light comedy, an attempt at something more frothy. Vaughan Williams was intimately familiar with the Savoy operas of Gilbert and Sullivan, [151] and his music for this piece was, and continues to be, widely regarded as operating firmly in the Sullivan vein. [152] The libretto, however, penned by an inexperienced writer, was generally judged to fall considerably short of W. S. Gilbert ’s famously high standards of wit and craftsmanship. [153] Saylor concisely summarizes the critical consensus, noting that the work hovers uncomfortably between “a frothy romantic comedy [and] a satirical fairy-tale,” ultimately not quite succeeding convincingly in either category. [154] Sometimes, good intentions are simply not enough.

• [[File:Job Blake.jpg|thumb|William Blake’s engraving of Job and his comforters]] Job: A Masque for Dancing (1930) holds the distinction of being the first large-scale ballet composed by a modern British composer, a significant milestone. [155] Vaughan Williams’s aforementioned preference for “long tableaux,” a stylistic choice that often proved disadvantageous in his operas, worked to singularly powerful effect in this ballet. The work draws its profound inspiration from William Blake ’s iconic Illustrations of the Book of Job (1826), translating the visionary intensity of Blake’s engravings into a compelling choreographic narrative. The score is structured into nine distinct sections, culminating in an epilogue, each presenting a musical and dance interpretation of specific Blake images. [156] The work, expertly choreographed by Ninette de Valois , made a powerful and lasting impression at its early stagings and has, deservedly, been revived by the Royal Ballet on several occasions. [147] [157] Kennedy ranks the score as “one of Vaughan Williams’s mightiest achievements,” further noting that it is frequently encountered in concert programmes, possessing “the stature and cohesion of a symphony.” [158] A genuine triumph.

• In Kennedy’s considered view, the one-act opera Riders to the Sea (1925–1931, premiered 1937) stands as artistically Vaughan Williams’s most successful operatic venture. Saylor, while granting that distinction to Sir John in Love, nevertheless rates Riders to the Sea as one of the composer’s finest works in any genre, a testament to its profound impact. [159] It is an almost verbatim musical setting of J. M. Synge ’s powerful 1902 play of the same name, depicting a stark and moving family tragedy unfolding in a remote Irish fishing village. Kennedy describes the score as “organized almost symphonically,” with much of the thematic material ingeniously developed from the brief, haunting prelude. The orchestration is subtly masterful, creating an atmosphere that foreshadows the ghostly finale of the Sixth Symphony ; there are also distinct pre-echoes of the Sinfonia antartica in the lamenting voices of the women and in the pervasive, elemental sound of the sea. [160] A work of stark, undeniable power.

• The Bridal Day (1938–1939) is a masque, with a scenario crafted by Ursula, that combines voice, mime, and dance. It was first performed in 1953 on BBC television, a pioneering venture for the medium. Vaughan Williams later recast it as a cantata , Epithalamion (1957), adapting its form for concert performance. [161]

• The Pilgrim’s Progress (1951), the composer’s final opera, represented the culmination of more than forty years of intermittent work dedicated to the theme of John Bunyan ’s profound religious allegory. Vaughan Williams had initially composed incidental music for an amateur dramatization of the text as early as 1906, and had revisited the theme in 1921 with the one-act The Shepherds of the Delectable Mountains (a piece that was eventually incorporated, with amendments, into the full 1951 opera). The work has, predictably, drawn criticism for a perceived preponderance of slow music and stretches that, to some, lack overt dramatic action. [162] However, many discerning commentators believe the work to be one of Vaughan Williams’s supreme artistic achievements, a deeply personal and spiritual statement. [31] Summaries of the music’s character vary widely, from Saylor’s somewhat dismissive “beautiful, if something of a stylistic jumble” to Kennedy’s more generous and insightful “a synthesis of Vaughan Williams’s stylistic progress over the years, from the pastoral mediation of the 1920s to the angry music of the middle symphonies and eventually the more experimental phase of the Sinfonia antartica in his last decade.” [162] [163] A complex work, reflecting a complex life.

Recordings

Vaughan Williams himself, despite his primary role as a composer, occasionally took to the podium, conducting a handful of recordings for both gramophone and radio. His studio recordings, offering direct insight into his interpretive intentions, include the vibrant overture to The Wasps and the ballet Old King Cole (both made in 1925), [164] as well as the formidable Fourth Symphony (1937), a work of stark, uncompromising power. [164] Live concert tapings, capturing the spontaneity of performance, preserve his conducting of Dona Nobis Pacem (1936), [165] the exquisite Serenade to Music , [166] and the profound Fifth Symphony , recorded in 1951 and 1952 respectively. There even exists a recording of Vaughan Williams conducting Bach ’s monumental St Matthew Passion with his beloved Leith Hill Festival forces, a testament to his versatility and deep musical understanding. [167]

In the nascent days of the LP record in the 1950s, Vaughan Williams was, surprisingly, better represented in the burgeoning record catalogues than many of his British compositional peers. The Record Guide (1955) dedicated an impressive nine pages to listings of his music on disc, a significant contrast to the five pages allocated to William Walton , and a mere four pages apiece for both Edward Elgar and Benjamin Britten . [168] A testament to his already established popularity.

Today, virtually all of the composer’s major works, alongside a substantial number of his minor ones, have been meticulously recorded, ensuring their continued accessibility and study. [169] There have been numerous complete LP and CD sets of his nine symphonies, a testament to their enduring appeal and importance. These began with Adrian Boult ’s pioneering Decca cycle of the 1950s, much of which was recorded in the composer’s direct presence, offering an invaluable historical document. [170] [n 21] Although rarely staged due to their inherent challenges, Vaughan Williams’s operas have, somewhat paradoxically, fared rather well on disc, allowing their musical merits to be appreciated without the accompanying theatrical complexities. The earliest recording of a Vaughan Williams opera was an abridged version of Hugh the Drover, conducted by Sir Malcolm Sargent in 1924. [174] Since the 1960s, a wealth of stereophonic recordings have emerged for Hugh the Drover, Sir John in Love, Riders to the Sea, The Poisoned Kiss, and The Pilgrim’s Progress. [175] While the majority of orchestral recordings have naturally featured British orchestras and conductors, notable non-British conductors who have, to their credit, made significant recordings of Vaughan Williams’s works include the formidable Herbert von Karajan , the charismatic Leonard Bernstein , the intense Dimitri Mitropoulos , the elegant Charles Munch , the idiosyncratic Leopold Stokowski , [176] and, most frequently and successfully, André Previn . Previn notably conducted the London Symphony Orchestra in the first complete stereo cycle of the symphonies, recorded between 1967 and 1972, a landmark achievement. [177] Among the British conductors most closely associated with Vaughan Williams’s music on disc and in concert in the generations following Boult, Sargent, and Barbirolli are Vernon Handley , Richard Hickox , Sir Mark Elder , and Sir Andrew Davis , all of whom have kept his flame burning brightly. [178] Record companies with extensive and commendable lists of Vaughan Williams recordings include EMI , Decca, Chandos , Hyperion , and Naxos , ensuring that his vast musical legacy remains available for future generations to discover and cherish. [169]

Honours and legacy

Vaughan Williams, with a characteristic disdain for pomp and titles, famously refused a knighthood on at least one occasion, and also declined the prestigious post of Master of the King’s Music following Elgar’s death. [179] The one state honour he did accept, perhaps recognizing its inherent merit rather than its titular glory, was the Order of Merit in 1935, which, crucially, confers no prenominal title. He preferred, with an understated dignity, to remain simply “Dr Vaughan Williams.” [180] His academic and musical accolades were numerous and spanned a lifetime of achievement. These included an honorary doctorate of music from the esteemed University of Oxford (1919); the Cobbett medal for his distinguished services to chamber music (1930); the coveted gold medal of the Royal Philharmonic Society (1930); the Collard life fellowship of the Worshipful Company of Musicians (1934, succeeding Elgar); an honorary fellowship of Trinity College, Cambridge (1935); the prestigious Shakespeare prize of the University of Hamburg (1937); the Albert medal of the Royal Society of Arts (1955); and the Howland memorial prize of Yale University (1954). [3] [26]

Following Vaughan Williams’s death, The Times , in a thoughtful leading article , succinctly summarized his profound and lasting legacy:

[H]istorically his achievement was to cut the bonds that from the times of Handel and Mendelssohn had bound England hand and foot to the Continent. He found in the Elizabethans and folk-song the elements of a native English language that need no longer be spoken with a German accent, and from it he forged his own idiom. The emancipation he achieved thereby was so complete that the composers of succeeding generations like Walton and Britten had no longer need of the conscious nationalism which was Vaughan Williams’s own artistic creed. There is now an English music which can make its distinctive contribution to the comity of nations. [181]

A rather grand pronouncement, but one that, for once, feels entirely justified. He didn’t just write music; he fundamentally redefined what English music could be.

In 1994, a dedicated group of enthusiasts, recognizing the enduring importance of his work, founded the Ralph Vaughan Williams Society. His widow, Ursula, graciously accepted the role of its president, with Roy Douglas and Michael Kennedy serving as vice presidents. The society, now a registered charity , [182] has played a crucial role in sponsoring and encouraging performances of the composer’s extensive body of work, including complete symphony cycles and a dedicated Vaughan Williams opera festival. Beyond performance, the society has actively promoted premieres of previously neglected works and has, in a testament to its commitment, established its own record label, Albion Records, to ensure his music reaches a wider audience. [183]

[[File:Vaughan Williams bust, Chelsea Embankment.jpg|thumb|Bust of Vaughan Williams by Marcus Cornish , Chelsea Embankment]]

It is an unfortunate, yet predictable, pattern that composers of the generation immediately following Vaughan Williams often reacted against his distinctive style. His particular brand of music, characterized by its diatonic and melodic qualities, became decidedly unfashionable in influential musical circles throughout the 1960s. During this period, such accessible, tonally grounded music was often overlooked or dismissed in favour of atonal and other more aggressively modernist compositions, which were then seen as the vanguard of artistic progress. [184] However, the pendulum of artistic taste, as it always does, eventually swung back. In the 21st century, this period of neglect has been significantly reversed, with a renewed appreciation for his unique voice.

The fiftieth anniversary year of his death, 2008, proved to be a pivotal moment, marked by the release of two contrasting, yet equally insightful, documentary films: Tony Palmer ’s O Thou Transcendent: The Life of Vaughan Williams and John Bridcut ’s The Passions of Vaughan Williams. [185] These films, among other factors, prompted British audiences to undertake a profound reappraisal of the composer’s legacy. While the popularity of his most immediately accessible works, particularly the Tallis Fantasia and The Lark Ascending , continued to soar, [n 22] a wider public also became increasingly aware of what a reviewer of Bridcut’s film eloquently termed “a genius driven by emotion.” [187] This renewed interest has extended to contemporary musicians, with a diverse array of 21st-century artists publicly acknowledging Vaughan Williams’s unexpected influence on their own creative development. This eclectic group includes composers such as John Adams , Sir Peter Maxwell Davies , and Anthony Payne , alongside artists from other genres like PJ Harvey , Wayne Shorter , Neil Tennant , and Mark-Anthony Turnage . [188] A rather unexpected, yet compelling, testament to his enduring and diverse impact.

Cultural legacy

The Royal College of Music , recognizing his immense contribution, commissioned an official portrait of the composer from Sir Gerald Kelly (1952), a work that now hangs prominently within the college. The Manchester Art Gallery houses a striking bronze sculpture of Vaughan Williams by the renowned artist Epstein (1952), capturing his formidable presence. The National Portrait Gallery, London (NPG) possesses several intimate drawings, including those by Joyce Finzi (1947) and Juliet Pannett (1957 and 1958). Additionally, versions of a powerful bronze head of the composer by David McFall (1956) can be found both in the NPG and strategically placed at the entrance to the Music reading room of the British Library , a fitting tribute to his literary and musical contributions. [3] [189]

Further public commemorations include a dedicated statue of Vaughan Williams in Dorking , [190] the town where he spent many significant years, and a dignified bust by Marcus Cornish situated in Chelsea Embankment Gardens , not far from his former residence in Cheyne Walk . [191] These tangible reminders ensure that his presence, both musical and physical, continues to resonate within the landscape he so profoundly influenced.

Notes, references and sources

Notes

1. ^ Vaughan Williams insisted on the traditional English pronunciation of his first name: "Rafe" ([/reɪf/](/Help:IPA/English)); Ursula Vaughan Williams said that he was infuriated if people pronounced it in any other way. [2]
2. ^ His siblings were Hervey (1869–1944) and Margaret (Meggie, 1870–1931). [4]
3. ^ Margaret's father was [Josiah Wedgwood III](/Josiah_Wedgwood_III), grandson of the potter; he married his cousin, Caroline Darwin, sister of Charles Darwin. [5]
4. ^ One of his aunts thought him a "hopelessly bad" musician, but recognised that "it will simply break his heart if he is told that he is too bad to hope to make anything of it." [16]
5. ^ Vaughan Williams and Adeline had known each other since childhood. When they became engaged he wrote to his cousin [Ralph Wedgwood](/Sir_Ralph_Wedgwood,_1st_Baronet), "for many years we have been great friends and for about the last three I have known my mind on the matter". [20]
6. ^ Vaughan Williams had studied under distinguished organists, and was given to boasting that he was the only pupil who had completely baffled Sir Walter Parratt, organist of [St George's Chapel, Windsor](/St_George%27s_Chapel,_Windsor_Castle), and [Master of the Queen's Music](/Master_of_the_Queen%27s_Music). [16]
7. ^ The fantasia made less of an impression on some lesser-known critics: "G. H." in Musical News thought the work "of not much musical interest", and the unnamed reviewer in [The Musical Times](/The_Musical_Times) found it "over-long for concert use". [46]
8. ^ [His students](/List_of_music_students_by_teacher:_T_to_Z) included [Ivor Gurney](/Ivor_Gurney), [Constant Lambert](/Constant_Lambert), [Elizabeth Maconchy](/Elizabeth_Maconchy), [Grace Williams](/Grace_Williams) and [Gordon Jacob](/Gordon_Jacob), the last of whom went on to work with his former teacher, transcribing the composer's barely legible manuscripts and arranging existing pieces for new instrumental combinations. [51] Later the composer's other regular helper was [Roy Douglas](/Roy_Douglas), who worked with Vaughan Williams between 1947 and 1958 and wrote a memoir of working with him. [52]
9. ^ Boult recalled that the symphony "brought many of us straight up against the spectacle of war, and the ghastly possibility of it. A prophet, like other great men, he foresaw the whole thing." [60]
10. ^ There were no children of the marriage. [26]
11. ^ In 2022, on the 150th anniversary of the composer's birth, and following a merger with the Vaughan Williams Charitable Trust, the RVW Trust became the Vaughan Williams Foundation. [75]
12. ^ The word is used repeatedly in discussions of Vaughan Williams by composers such as [Herbert Howells](/Herbert_Howells), [84] [Anthony Payne](/Anthony_Payne), [85] and [Wilfrid Mellers](/Wilfrid_Mellers), [86] conductors including [Sakari Oramo](/Sakari_Oramo), [87] and scholars such as Byron Adams, [88] Kennedy, [83] and Hugh Ottaway. [89]
13. ^ Vaughan Williams did not assign numbers to any of his symphonies before No 8, but Nos 4–6 have generally been referred to by number nevertheless. [95]
14. ^ This was in 1951, when the last three symphonies were yet to be written. [103]
15. ^ [Peter Warlock](/Peter_Warlock) commented that the symphony was "like a cow looking over a gate", though he added, "but after all, it's a very great work" [85] and Sir Hugh Allen said the work conjured up "VW rolling over and over in a ploughed field on a wet day". [105]
16. ^ In 1956 the composer said in a letter to Michael Kennedy that the nearest that words could get to what he intended in the finale were Prospero's in [The Tempest](/The_Tempest): "We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep." [69]
17. ^ The 2015 concert listings section of the Ralph Vaughan Williams Society lists no performances of any of the concertos in Britain during that year, and, internationally, one performance of the "Oboe Concerto" (in [Las Palmas](/Las_Palmas)) and one of the Piano Concerto (in [Seattle](/Seattle)). [120]
18. ^ The composer and musical scholar [Christopher Palmer](/Christopher_Palmer) includes Vaughan Williams in the list of major British composers, along with Elgar, Delius, Holst, Walton and Britten, who showed little interest in the solo piano and seldom wrote for it. [122]
19. ^ Vaughan Williams was amused by the comment of a friend who correctly detected the French influence, but thought "I must have been having tea with Debussy." [39]
20. ^ Applied by the composer to, respectively, *On Christmas Night* and *The Bridal Day*; *The Poisoned Kiss*, *Riders to the Sea* and *The Pilgrim's Progress*. [31] [139]
21. ^ The Ninth Symphony in what became the Decca complete cycle was recorded by [Everest Records](/Everest_Records); [171] the sessions took place on the morning after the composer's death. [172] Decca licensed the recording from Everest for inclusion in a CD set of the nine symphonies in 2003. [173]
22. ^ The British radio station [Classic FM](/Classic_FM_(UK)), which specialises in popular classics, conducted polls of its listeners in 2014 and 2015 in which The Lark Ascending was voted the most popular of all musical works, and the Tallis Fantasia was in the top three. [186]