This is a remarkable chronicle of the rediscovery of British music (mostly from the first half of the 20th century), told by one of its most tireless advocates. Lewis Foreman is widely known as the author of Bax: A Composer and His Times (Scolar Press: 1983; 8/07) and for many other books on British music. He has also been involved, since the 1960s, in some of the most important recordings of British repertoire. With a few exceptions, Foreman limits himself to discussing those projects with which he was directly involved, usually as an adviser on repertoire or editorial issues, though he has also occasionally worked as a producer. As the author tells us in his introduction, this memoir has been ‘assembled over an enormous time span’ and this shows in a few places where there are inevitable repetitions, but I don’t think that matters: the subtitle promises ‘a personal history of 50 years researching and recording neglected repertoire’ and that’s exactly what we get – peppered with some delightful anecdotes along the way. In his ‘autobiographical introduction’, Foreman recalls his own discovery of new music (not just by British composers) in the 1950s and early 1960s and this sets the context for everything that follows: what comes across so well is not only the author’s love of the music but also his dogged determination to get it played and recorded, to talk to the composers themselves wherever possible, and to rescue numerous scores and parts from publishers’ basements (or skips). This kind of quest is seldom glamorous, but the result of Foreman’s persistence is that we now have fine recordings of works that would otherwise have vanished from the repertoire.

Composers about whom he is particularly eloquent include, among others, Bax, Havergal Brian, Delius, George Lloyd and John McCabe, while the section on record companies includes valuable reminiscences of Lyrita, and of the British music recorded by Chandos, Hyperion, Dutton Epoch and several smaller labels. The chapter on Lyrita (pages 223-33) is of special interest given the label’s pioneering recordings of neglected British music, and Foreman draws on the recollections of Richard Itter (the label’s founder) as well as his own. The prose is supported by a fascinating and generous selection of session photographs. Plates 1-3 are particularly intriguing as they show the famous Lyrita recording sessions in Walthamstow Assembly Rooms for the Elgar symphonies with the LPO conducted by Adrian Boult. Against his wishes, the engineers persuaded Sir Adrian to have all the violins on his right – contrary to his long-established practice of splitting them left and right. Plates 1 and 3 show the orchestra laid out this way, but plate 2 shows the violins split – suggesting that Lyrita attempted, at least, to make Boult’s preferred layout work for the Second Symphony, though the published recording has the violins undivided. The chapters on Chandos, Hyperion and others are also backed up by an impressive body of photographic evidence and there’s a substantial account of the British music recorded by Dutton Epoch (pages 282-307), a label with which Foreman has worked particularly closely.

Recording British Music is a long book – but from start to finish it is fuelled by Foreman’s irrepressible enthusiasm for his task. While there may be some details that are only of specialist interest, it’s perfectly possible to dip in and out of the text, or to look up what Foreman has to say about a particular composer, label or performer. Above all, it gives absorbing insights into the nuts and bolts of the process of ‘rediscovery’, particularly finding the material in the first place and – where necessary – creating scores and parts so that the music can be performed and recorded. Foreman’s role in that has been fundamental, but he is generous in singling out others (Graham Parlett, Christopher Palmer, Anthony Payne, Martin Yates, Jeremy Dibble) who have made important editions and completions.

There are a few typos: Leon ‘Fleischer’ instead of Fleisher (page 103), Vienna ‘Succession’ instead of Secession (page 124), the accent on Martin≤ coming (page 117) and going (page 90 and page 238) – but these are trivial slips. With its array of over 200 plates (many in colour) and a reasonable cover price for a substantial hardback, this book deserves to be snapped up by any lover of British music – and its renaissance that Foreman himself has done so much to energise.

This review originally appeared in the August 2024 issue of Gramophone. Never miss an issue of the world's leading classical music magazine – subscribe to Gramophone today