Julia Sitkovetsky and Christopher Glynn CLASSICAL

Where Corals Lie

Chandos, out now ★★★★★

This excellent album, vividly recorded in May at the Yehudi Menuhin School, sheds welcome light on a little known part of Elgar’s output: his songs. Elgar published more than 70, of which only the Sea Pictures (1899) are reasonably well known, and then only in the orchestral version, not Elgar’s own piano accompaniment recorded here. The Sea Pictures were premiered by the Valkyrie-like mezzo

Clara (later Dame Clara) Butt to great acclaim at the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. Elgar, in the immediate aftermath of his belated triumphant breakthrough with the Enigma Variations, composed some memorable tunes here, and the piano accompaniments exude huge confidence. It’s an entertaining piece, even if the poetry isn’t up to much.

The British soprano Julia Sitkovetsky (right), daughter of the celebrated violinist Dmitry, sounds radiant throughout, and is splendidly accompanied by the pianist Christopher Glynn.

They are a persuasive partnership in a recital that presents a lot of interesting material spanning four decades, from The Self Banished (1875), composed when Elgar, a slow starter, was in his teens, to

When The Spring Comes Round (1915), a sombre wartime piece.

Among the most memorable tracks here are a publisher-commissioned arrangement of Salut D’Amour called Pansies (Elgar, sadly for him, sold the rights on publication of this glorious melody, and the publisher cleaned up for years); In Moonlight, a delightful setting of the ‘popular song’ sequence from Elgar’s Richard Strauss-like symphonic poem In The South (1904); and, best of all, the ardent Pleading, a terrific song from the composer at the height of his fame (1908).

Elgar loved words, but had poor literary taste. Much of the poetry he sets is unworthy of his genius, notably some of his wife Caroline Alice’s verse. Elgar himself chips in with two verse adaptations of Eastern European folk songs: The Torch and The River (1909) hiding behind the pen-name ‘Pietro d’Alba’ (Peter White, his daughter’s pet rabbit!). An album sympathetic to this under-appreciated aspect of Elgar’s genius, which I confidently predict you will find a real treat.