Treasure trove, pure and simple. Britten conducts the music of his beloved mentor and teacher, Frank Bridge, with a heartwarming dedication. Right from the outset, his radiant interpretation of The Sea grips with its pungent elemental force, mastery of the singing line and unforgettably rapt poetic instinct. Indeed, the supple naturalness of the phrasing is a thing of wonder throughout, nowhere more so than during the strings’ ineffably tender reprise of the main theme of ‘Moonlight’ (try from 3'37'' to hear what I mean). All in all, this deeply moving reading left me feeling as ‘knocked sideways’ by Bridge’s intoxicating inspiration as was the ten-year-old Britten himself when he heard the composer conduct the piece at the 1924 Norwich Triennial Festival.
Similarly, Britten’s faithful conception of Enter Spring possesses a fresh-faced capriciousness, cogent sweep and expressive ardour to make you fall in love all over again with Bridge’s exuberant vision. As in The Sea, one senses an acute concern for the grander scheme: how shrewd of Britten, for instance, to hold something in reserve during the joyful clangour of the paragraph beginning at fig. 30 (12'34''), thereby minimizing the danger of the same material sounding uncomfortably blatant when it returns in all its swaggering pomp at the close. And what reserves of poignant tenderness he conjures from his hard-working New Philharmonia strings in the ecstatic central portion.
Written to mark the opening of the Maltings Concert Hall in Snape in June 1967, Britten’s sparky The Building of the House Overture launches proceedings in dashing fashion here. This was, in fact, only its second-ever performance (the world premiere having taken place two days earlier in the presence of the Queen), and one readily overlooks the chorus’s sharp initial entry in view of the quick-witted tension generated elsewhere. Britten’s 1961 Orford Church performance of Holst’s Egdon Heath brings with it some occasional insecurity from the LSO, yet his eloquent direction distils exactly the right chill and the interpretation as a whole evinces a dignity, patience and lucidity that are undeniably compelling. Last but not least, Holst’s daughter, Imogen, presides over a wonderfully poised and serene account of her father’s engaging 1923 Fugal Concerto, emanating from a June 1969 concert at Blythburgh Church.
Recordings of varying vintage have all come up very freshly, and here is a memorable anthology in every way.'