Fand IncWessex Press

A hundred years ago this month Peter Warlock (1894–1930) became the tenant of a small cottage in the West Kent village of Eynsford. He was joined there by his fellow composer friend E. J. Moeran (1894–1950) who he had met for the first time a couple of years earlier. It was during the following few years that the ‘Warlock Legend’ largely originates—a period renowned for its riotous living, with an open house policy to all sorts of visitors, the more outré the better. For Warlock (whose real name was Philip Heseltine) his time there was quite productive: apart from the composition of many of his finest songs and his best-known work, Capriol, several books and various transcriptions also came from his pen. By contrast, it was more of a lean time for Moeran, who generally found life at the cottage too distracting, and he produced very little in the way of creative work. The Eynsford sojourn lasted until the autumn of 1928, when financial constraints necessitated the termination of the tenancy and resulted in their going their separate ways.

The present two piano pieces that comprise Eynsford Days are published together by way of commemorating the centenary of the two composers’ move to Eynsford in January 1925. The first was originally composed for saxophone quartet in 1976 as a tribute piece to Warlock and entitled Peterism (a title that had been used by Warlock for some of his song groups). It was subsequently arranged by others for string orchestra (Frank Bayford); clarinet quartet (Marcus Blunt); and organ (Peter Naylor); and then by myself for piano duet in 1983. I recently made the piano solo arrangement especially for the present publication. The second piece dates from 2006 and, with it turning out to be somewhat Moeran-flavoured, I initially described it as a ‘MockMoeranism’.

—John Mitchell, January 2025

October for Bassoon and String Quartet was written in October 1991. The work is in a single rhapsodic movement, sometimes darkly dreaming, at other times light-splashed with colour and joy – reflecting, therefore, aspects of the month of October.

I composed Barcarolle Blanche in March 2024 as a gift for my friend Michael Graves, who was celebrating his 75th birthday later that month. Without forcing the compositional form too much, I was able to engineer the piece so as to contain exactly 75 bars—one for each year of the dedicatee’s life!

A good question might be posed as to why a barcarolle – a song-like piece in compound time that might emanate from the singing of a Venetian gondolier – would need to be assigned a colour, in this case white—and there does happen to be a certain rationale involved here. The explanation begins a decade earlier when I composed another celebratory barcarolle, this time for another friend’s 80th birthday. It had a wistful quality about it, with some unsettling moments, and I wanted to name it Barcarolle Triste. However, when I checked out this title online, I discovered there was already in existence a Spanish pop group of that name! I thus needed an alternative, and I came up with, and used, Barcarolle Noire. When it was published, I included a note to the effect that ‘noire’ in this instance did not literally mean ‘black’, but was meant to imply a dark, edgy quality associated with the cinematic term ‘film noir’. Penning the present barcarolle, which – being lighter and brighter in mood – was to some extent the antithesis of the earlier one, it struck me as quite appropriate to append ‘Blanche’ to its title accordingly.

—John Mitchell, July 2024

The English writer Edward Shanks (1892–1953) is probably best known as a war poet, having served in World War One until being invalided out in 1915. Much of his career was spent as a literary reviewer, and apart from his verse he penned several novels, including a single science fiction one, and The Old Indispensables (1919), which has some similarities with the TV comedy series Yes, Minister, dealing as it does with the farcical goings-on within the Whitehall bureaucracy. He also provided a libretto for Ethel Smyth’s opera, Fète Galante.

Summer’s Hue was composed in the spring of 2024 and sets four of Shanks’ non-WW1 poems. In On High Hills the narrator recalls a youthful romantic moment centred around the East Sussex village of Fletching. The second song is in the way of an observation of nature—how in the twilight the reflection of overhanging hawthorn blossom gave an illusion of it floating on the surface of a pool. Long After sees Shanks in a darker mood, musing on how the beauty of the countryside will continue after we are no more. The song group ends brightly with Come Dance Away!, a dance in the style of a polka, where the poet tempts a girl to dance with him alone, away from the crowd and where the lack of light is of no consequence. The coda (poco più mosso) perhaps suggests his overture to the young lady has been successful!

—John Mitchell, August 2024

Written in May, these tales tell of moods and images glimpsed, fancifully and briefly, from a Maytime of bright blossom and burgeoning greenery.

The arrangements for piano in this volume of orchestral music, originally variously scored, by Carey Blyton seek to give a wider audience the chance to hear (and to play) music of charming melodic invention and skilful mood presentation which was mainly written to fulfil publishers’ stocks of library music.

However, although it is clear that most of these works were written specifically to serve this purpose, at least one, Commuter Special, was conceived earlier (and thus was motivated and inspired differently) and then marshalled into a commissioned score.

There are two green-bound volumes announcing Mood Music with the date in gold embossed lettering. One shows 1965 and the other 1968. The arrangements in this current medley derive from the 1965 volume.

In addition, there are three pieces, Commuter Special, Valse Musette and Girl Friday, whose manuscripts exist separately.

Commuter Special (originally ‘Rush Hour’) is clearly a reworking of material thought up as long ago as 1955 when Blyton was 23. It also has the dates 1966 and 1973 on it. In 1974/75 it was recorded and can be heard, along with all these arrangements, on the Carey Blyton – Film & Television Music (1/4) CD.

Sketches of both Valse Musette and Girl Friday exist on manuscript paper dated 1972; again, they were fully scored in time for a 1974 recording session.

Coincidentally, the present arranger of this music, John Mitchell, first met Carey Blyton at his home in Swanley in 1974, and on that occasion heard some of these recordings, ‘just done’, on a reel-to-reel tape recorder!

Minuet for Octet, Pan and Echo, Table for Two and Music Hall Memories were all copyrighted in 1966—although the bound volume clearly states 1965. It is otherwise not possible to date the original conception of these precisely at present.

The ‘pointers to mood’ under each title are Carey Blyton’s own.

—Peter Thompson

Although this work has not been recorded professionally, recordings of the original pieces on which its movements are based may be found on the CD, Carey Blyton – Film & Television Music (1/4).

Note that an easier (Grade 4–5) arrangement of Girl Friday than the version in this collection, but also by John Mitchell, is available separately.

Symphony no 5, ‘The Sonnet’ is so named as it reflects the sonnet form. Thus, movement 1 is the volta, movement 2 is a development and exploration of the ‘theme’, and in movement 3 the issue seeks resolution in a short rhyming couplet.

This is a brief but pithy symphony which was sketched and orchestrated between February 2023 and March 2024 and is scored for traditional symphony orchestra.