Unlike other British composers born about the same time (1913) George Lloyd did not manage to keep out of military service when World War II began. When his ship was torpedoed in Arctic waters he suffered physical injuries and post-traumatic stress syndrome. When he attempted to return to music as a career, he found his style–a post-Elgarian romanticism with no trace of currently-faddish radicalism–wasn’t “ugly” enough for the musical taste-makers of the day, who rejected him for daring to write such old fashioned music. Accordingly, Lloyd gave up music as a profession and followed with a successful career in business.
Only after he retired from that in 1978 did he return to full-time composing. To his surprise, he found his work accepted by both critics and audiences, who by now were ready for a return to beauty in new music. Even better, he found a champion in the American CD label Albany Records.
Albany now brings to SACD the release I would recommend above all others as a first choice in exploring Lloyd’s music. Lloyd thought his opera The Serf, unplayed since its 1930s premiere, contained some of his best music. In his last year Lloyd returned to the score, extracting and arranging a considerable amount of it in the form of orchestral suites. The selections included here possess fine melodies, clearly defined emotional moods, and considerable variety. The idiom is a more serious version of the style found in soundtracks to British cinema scores of the time. A movement called “Sicily” is haunt-your-memory beautiful.
The cello concerto, a work of Lloyd’s last several months, squarely confronts some of his darker moods. The pain, loss, and regret expressed here (as well as the conservative musical style and technique) raise comparison with Elgar’s Cello Concerto–and the really good news is that Lloyd’s piece is fully worthy of the comparison on all counts.
Making this disc well-nigh essential to cello fanciers is the fact that the performance is by a musician completely in command of the material. Anthony Ross, principal cellist of the Minnesota Orchestra, may not be a name well-known in classical circles, but by the evidence here he is deserving of stardom. From the passionate tone he creates in the exposed high-register notes of the beginning, he makes the cello a very human protagonist in this work whose extended variation-form seems to take a hero through various life-memories. This is one of those recordings that you are apt to be drawn back to repeatedly. The SACD sound is warm and accurate, with the extra channels used for discreet ambience.
