It is sad that this touching tribute to Leon Goossens, a superstar among oboists long before the term was invented, has had to wait so long to appear on CD. The disc is described as honouring the whole Goossens family, and the harpists Marie and Sidonie (now over 100) certainly deserve recognition, but their contribution here is peripheral. They simply accompany their brother in two of the most charming items, Michael Krein’s songful Serenade and Morgan Nicholas’s hymn-like Melody. Sir Eugene Goossens, conductor and composer, arguably the most prominent of all the family, is mentioned only incidentally in the note.
Melvin Harris’s essay puts admirably in context the place of Leon Goossens’ style and technique in the development of oboe-playing in Britain, emphasising how this collection of short oboe pieces, many originally written for Goossens, represents a personal triumph. In June 1962, just after he had recorded the Bach Double Concerto, BWV1060, with Yehudi Menuhin for EMI (11/95) – a classic recording – he was injured in a car-crash which seriously damaged the muscles around his mouth, vital for any wind-player.
It was both a medical marvel and a tribute to Goossens’ will-power that he ever played again, and this collection bears formidable witness to that triumph. Though the technical facility may not be quite the same as earlier, the warmth of tone and the ability to charm are undiminished. That he was in his late seventies at the time only adds to the marvel.
No dates are given, but Brian Couzens made these recordings even before he founded his own Chandos label. All but the Elgar Soliloquy appeared on an RCA LP in the late ’70s. The Soliloquy – the one movement Elgar completed (in short score) of an oboe suite for Goossens – was included both on LP and CD in a Chandos collection of shorter Elgar pieces.
I especially welcome the collection when so many of the items are unique recordings, most of the composers being seriously under- represented in the catalogue. One of the exceptions is Finzi, whose beautiful Interlude is the most extended piece here, superbly played by the Fitzwilliam Quartet, with contrasted sections covering a wide emotional range. All items earn their place, but I am particularly glad to have the carefree little Rondo by Thomas Pitfield with its witty pay-off. Teacher of John McCabe among others, Pitfield, who died last year, is a composer who deserves a disc to himself.
The performance of the Bach Sinfonia may seem old-fashioned played with such expressive warmth, and no source is given for the jaunty Boyce hornpipe, Matelotte, but those are niggling points. Charm is the key to the whole collection, and I welcome the arrival on CD of such an illuminating portrait of a great artist too little represented on disc.'