Unless he is Berlioz, a composer with a taste for the individuality of his instruments (and thus a good orchestral scorer) must surely be an effective composer of concertos. Malcolm Arnold is one such. Indeed the sleeve-note writer is left saying that these four concertos have been arranged in chronological sequence on the LP to cover a 34-year period in the matter; and so in the event the arrangement certainly does, if you will just allow chronology to run exactly backwards. No matter: far more importantly the concertos do indeed cover agreeably varied aspects of Arnold's music.
The frivolous—always lying in wait—appears seldom; the solemn (though always lying in wait for some other composers) never. But in between these extremes there are shades of vivacity, shades of beauty. Most beautiful, to my ears, is the Oboe Concerto, where the rewarding combination of oboe and strings exploits that relationship in sunlit style. Least beautiful, perhaps, is the Clarinet Concerto: the at least equally attractive texture of clarinet and strings having, almost necessarily, passages of beautiful sound; but these are interpolated with ostinato passages of excessive repetition, almost as if Arnold were parodying himself (perhaps he was: he is certainly one of the few established composers to whom such an idea would occur!). No parody in the Horn Concerto, rivalling in my own mind the Oboe Concerto for precedence: here is beauty indeed. With the Trumpet Concerto, latest in composition (and thus first, of course, in the record's 'chronological' sequence!). I am not at all so sure: it seems relatively conventional, perfunctory even. for a tribute to Arnold's instrument this seems odd: so does the choice of full orchestra (including orchestral trumpets) for accompaniment.
These thumbnail reactions will not be shared by every listener. More certainly a matter of more universal agreement will be the quality of playing, both solo and orchestral, on the LP. Here John Wallace is commanding, if a little square; Alan Civil eases greatly the pain of remembering that Dennis Brain, for whom the concerto was written, was never recorded in the piece; Janet Hilton struggles gamely with a rather less rewarding part than many Arnold has written; and Gordon Hunt gives the Oboe Concerto with consummate mastery and poetry.
Excellent recording keeps all in good balance, but production is a little less stellar. It does, rightly, avoid breaking up any one concerto, but separates the two on each side by only five seconds silence.'