I do find that the heart goes out to this opera. Some of the causes may be suspect. Perhaps it is sentimental to allow knowledge of the composer's age at the time of writing (George Lloyd was 21) to influence one's response, but it does. Then there is the pleasure of seeing the work which enjoyed so much success followed by such complete neglect convincingly revived, with the composer, now as conductor, renewing acquaintance with his own music half a century later. Also, it must be admitted, a certain sneaky partisan sympathy extends itself to the octogenarian who in answer to his interviewer's question says that he doubts whether he would ever write another opera, because, quite apart from the expense of energy, he dislikes most modern stage productions and thinks that in most opera houses producers have too much power. His own opera, he says, was written for singers: the melodic line came first, and the expressive power of the music is concentrated primarily in that.
The work has an interesting history. It originated from a late-night conversation his father had with a friend on their return from a visit to Covent Garden. Opera in England and English opera were both found wanting. The friend, Penzance's indefatigable amateur impresario, Walter Barnes, proposed a school of Cornish opera: ''You write it, I'll put it on''. Four days later the father came up with a libretto, and George began to wander the moors around Zennor. Within a year the opera was complete, the friend was as good as his word, and by the happiest of chances Frank Howes, The Times's critic, taking his holidays in Cornwall, attended the premiere and loved it. A London season followed in 1935, playing to enthusiastic houses and defeated only by the heat-wave which emptied the theatres that summer. The recording was made in 1985 from a broadcast which went out the following year. Its producer, Chris de Souza, conducts an excellent interview with the composer on the final track of the third disc.
At the London premiere, The Times (presumably Frank Howes again) found the opera ''spontaneous in invention and almost consistently effective... the only exception [being] the choral writing which, conceived along unusual lines and largely unisonous, does not quite achieve the composer's intentions and might well be revised''. Whether the hint was taken we are not told, but the score has not been revised for this performance, and most of the choral writing (not all that ''unisonous'') works well. More important is the writing for soloists, and on the whole this seems instinctively expert: for instance, the high notes are sparingly required, so that when they occur they have maximum effect. The heroine's role wants a coloratura soprano who also has a substantial middle and lower-middle register. That should not be too much to ask, but I fear it is, and one can only guess at the kind of Italianate full-bodied sound that was probably in the composer's ear when he wrote the work.
Marilyn Hill-Smith is more successful with the higher, more agile and less dramatic parts of the role. All the male principals have splendidly singable music, but the best performance comes from Claire Powell, sumptuous of voice and noble of manner in the role which at the Lyceum was shared between a formidable pair of contraltos, Astra Desmond and Edith Furmedge. The orchestral playing is fine and responsive to impulse. Recorded sound is clear, though I rarely found myself 'seeing' the stage while listening. It is a pity the booklet contains no essay or historical note, but the interview largely makes up for that.'