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Fanfare

One of three David Johnsons in the Fanfare Archive (the others being David Hackbridge Johnson and David Nathaniel Johnson), David Charles Johnson (1942–2009) is only represented once previously, and it is with this very work. The performer there is Ian Hobson, recorded on that pianist’s own label, Zephyr
(Fanfare 22:5). Art Lange described the music as sounding “somber and sturdy,” and there is much truth to that statement. Yet that baseline finds space for jazz, and for folk and popular melody as well. One can hear that as early as the first Prelude (in B♭): It all sounds severe, and indeed begins with a threadbare single lines, but suddenly jazzy rhythms start to infiltrate. There is also the use of a fragments of an
imaginary Scottish folk song here. To have the very first Prelude not only include such variety but to appear as a set of variations on a theme is a fascinating strategy; the complementary Fugue is, by the composer’s own admission, an hommage à Bach, but with a bluesy strand. Hobson emphasizes the underlying bluesy element to the opening of that first prelude more than Chirstopher Guild, so that with the latter one gets more of an impression of launching out on a long journey (for such this is). Both pianists phrase beautifully. When it comes to the first Fugue, Guild finds space for monumentalism, a sort of granitic quality, whereas Hobson’s version complements this by taking joy in the three-against-two metrics. Guild’s awareness of Johnson’s use of gestural statement towards the end of the piece is
more pronounced, though, and more effective.

Witten over the space of three years in the 1990s, the set as a whole is unified via a four-note motif composed by the Aberdonian (from Aberdeen, Scotland) composer Shaun Dillon (1944–2018): B♭, B♮, E, and A, which come close to spelling the Gallic word for “life.” Hobson’s album cover included a reproduction of both the motif and row in the composer’s hand. We hear the motif starkly at the opening of the second Prelude (in B and marked Grave). The four-note motif can be transposed down twice to complete a 12-note row, and indeed one can hear this beautifully in the Prelude. Talk of dodecaphony brings in discussion of how the pieces can be “in” anything. Describing them as in “B” as opposed to B Major or B Minor is deliberate, as it allows for a certain modality the row brings with it. This Prelude seems to have a composed “fade,” out of which the sprightly second fugue emerges. The composer has mentioned “midsummer magic” as part of this music’s heart, a sort of tripping aspect (the rhythms are 3+3+3 within an 8/8 time signature). Guild offers the ideal performance here, just a touch lighter than
Hobson.The link between the second Fugue and the third Prelude is clear: Both are cut from the same cloth. Intriguingly, the third Prelude (in E) has elements of quasi-fugal counterpoint (actually a canon) which jostle with moments of high-pitched fantasy. Guild is just fantastic here, particularly in his tightly rolled left-hand chords. The contrast here to the Fugue is visceral. The Prelude peters out rather
than fades, to be confronted with granitic chords Sorabji might be proud of. The fugue subject is then intoned in the lower register; clashes between the second fugal statement and its countersubject are positively glorified by Guild. The composer described this subject as “an energetic Russian theme in 7/4 time.” I remain on the fence as to the “Russian” element, but what a performance this is. Perhaps there is a hunt of carillon later on—the bells of Boris Godunov recontextualized? Here, Guild is preferable; Hobson is a touch too relentless. Sometimes the four-note motif is itself fragmented, as in the fourth Prelude (in A), a piece the composer describes as “a moonlit scene of secret sorrow.” The music is
forlorn, and benefits from Guild’s relatively neutral delivery. It is complemented by a sprightly Fugue that really is more fugato. The subtitle of the fugue is “introducing ‘the animals went in two by two’,” and when the nursery tune arrives, it does so in somewhat grand, even triumphal manner. Compositionally, this is
virtuosic; one has to smile at the cleverness at work here. Guild is more convincing and atmospheric than Hobson in the Prelude, and he gives the fugue a touch more space. Hobson is too frenetic.

The frame of reference in Johnson’s piece is large, with referands sometimes colliding, as is the case with the Fifth prelude (in F♯), where the theme at once points to the famous moment from Haydn’s “Surprise” Symphony and a folk song (Bobby Shaftoe). The piece is charming (indeed, a third layer is a tribute to Debussy’s Children’s Corner). The fugue is interesting, as it is cast in three voices with the addition of a fourth, “non-fugal” voice (one that does not contribute to the fugal processes at work). Guild and Hobson are equally effective in the prelude; in the compact fugue, it is Guild’s more sensitive take that appeals. Chains of dedication continue, with the Prelude in G (No. 6) dedicated to Ronald
Stevenson and offering a transcription of Johnson’s 1974 setting of MacDiarmid’s O Jesu parvule (a Scottish realist poem). The warmth of some of the “landing” harmonies comes as a bit of a shock; Guild is warmer in this regard, and overall, than is Hobson’s more objective account. The fugue in this instance is a double fugue on Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern; a B-A-C-H motif morphs into what the composer describes as “a half-remembered lullaby.” The complementary theme is of Wie schön (by the Lutheran hymnodist Phillip Nicolai, 1556–1608), which Bach used in his BWV 1 (the cantata of that name). The result in Johnson’s hands is both beautiful and imposing, a major compositional achievement, and Guild’s performance fully recognizes the work’s stature. Hobson’s account of the fugue isimpressive also, but Guild’s individual characterization of the two (prelude and fugue) is more marked and ultimately more satisfying.

Contrasting a quasi-improvisatory prelude with a rigorous fugue is nothing new, but Johnson’s way is very effective nonetheless, teasing out new directions and celebrating the harmonic ambiguity of his core motif in the seventh prelude (in C) via a sequence of neo-Baroque gestures. The fugue, it turns out, is both rigorous and yet has palpable “swing.” Guild is seemingly perfect, down to the final “blues”
chord, which offers something of an interrupted cadence, allowing for a segue into the next Prelude. Hobson emphasizes exploration over Baroque references in the prelude—a valid alternative—but his fugue, despite some beautifully clear articulation, is marginally less convincing than Guild’s, which brings in more color and shade.

The Prelude No. 8 (in F) comes with a caveat—“with apologies to the 1635 Scottish psalter”—as Johnson offers a parody (an affectionate one) on the 17th-century psalm tune, adding bluesy notes to cadences. Jacobean Scotland meets contemporary jazz piano is an unlikely but successful combination, it turns out, as is the move from church to the circus: The eighth fugue is meant to depict clowns at the seaside. Johnson plays beautifully with a four-note descending figure. Guild is completely convincing, and his understanding of Johnson’s idiom intact; Hobson has an equal grasp of Prelude No. 8, and takes a softer approach to the fugue, but with no loss of linear clarity, impressively. Ultimately, though, Guild seems one
small step ahead. The Prelude No. 9 is written as a single line and makes use of Scottish folksong scales, including the pentatonic. Sometimes meandering, sometimes offering the rigor of a Bach opening contrapuntal gambit, it is wonderful, especially when Johnson fragments the line. The fugue here is both playful and disjunct; Guild hits the nail on the head. Hobson, though, is just as compelling, and his recording really brings out the laser-focus of his articulation in the bass register. Bells inform the tenth prelude and fugue: Sunday bells (in the Alps, possibly) in the prelude, those of London’s Southwark Cathedral in the fugue. The prelude has an almost Impressionist slant that is highly beautiful—think of Impressionism meeting, in passing, the blues. The fugue here is fearless in its exploration of London carillon. There is even an invocation of train wheels on rails (London Bridge station is next to Southwark Cathedral). It’s fascinating, and Guild’s performance has it all. Hobson seems really to enjoy himself in the fugue; although he has lived and worked in America for decades, he is a Brit, and I wonder if this
aspect of Johnson’s piece appealed in a specific way?

The brief Prelude No. 11, high on bass tremolo and downward sequences of chords, is more of a transition to the sprightly penultimate fugue. The eleventh fugue sets the Jacobite tune Johnny Cope to great effect; I hear the folk element asbeing more pronounced in Hobson’s account, but Guild’s clarity is more than compensation, especially as he can highlight the contrast between pedaled and non-pedaled passages so well.

Finally, there comes the Prelude and Fugue in D♭. Black-key and white-key harmonic areas vie with each other here (Heaven and Earth?). To his detriment, Hobson is quicker than Guild, and the resulting extra space makes Guild’s version preferable. Johnson’s way of linking the prelude and fugue here is magical. The fugue itself is based on three themes, which eventually are heard simultaneously. One of the more expansive fugues (although not the longest), it exudes austere beauty. Guild’s performance seems to unroll at the perfect tempo; Hobson does not make the experience quite as rapt.

It is a close-run thing, this, between Guild and Hobson, but the preponderance of occasions of Guild just pipping Hobson to the post confirms that the new release is the one to have. Sadly, I have not been privy to Zephyr’s booklet notes, but I can attest that those for the Divine Art release are incredibly generous, comprehensive, and useful. So, take a risk with this release. The music of David Charles Johnson is not well known but deserves to be, and Christopher Guild is a fine advocate. The recording (engineered and produced by Adaq Khan at The Old Granary, Suffolk) is excellent. Recommended.