Raymond Hanson: Preludes, Op 11 (1940-41) - 3

Abstract

Raymond Hanson (1913-1976) composed the set of Preludes at the Burragorang Valley of the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, between December 1940 and January 1941. Hanson provided this series of wordpaintings of the pieces: 1. A peaceful valley with ribbon-river flanked by light-seeking trees and rocky mountain walls. 2. Age old granite hills where black-feet once made pathways. 3. Sunset, filmy rain makes curtain for the coming night. 4. Wind gusts tear at trees and make ordered crops obsequious. A menacing storm, leaving a hushed tranquillity imbued with the promise of nature's resurrection. 5. Lonely mountains, sentinels of time, stand proudly in the grey noon. 6. Dawn rises stirring the sleeping forest and the little creatures living within the shelter of the undergrowth. In the memory of any of us who were fortunate enough to have studied with and known Raymond (Ray to his friends), there is an image of a man who was kind, honest, full of integrity and humility; a man who cared for his pupils and for the future of music in this country. Hanson was unlucky enough to have been in the 'in between' generation; in the sense that he had shifted away from his conservative roots and teachers, yet hadn't shifted far enough in some ways, so that when there was a sudden surge of support and activity for Australian music during the '60s and '70s, Hanson was somehow overlooked as being part of a past generation. It is only now, far too late for Ray, that we are recognising his contribution. Part of Ray's bad luck was to have fallen victim of a cultural mini-McCarthyism in Australia, which targeted his genuine desire to bring art music to the trade union movement and to form an orchestra funded from trade union levies. This, when coupled with his belief in the need for cultural exchange with Russia, and his view that music was as a universal way of uniting people, caused Hanson to be seen as at least 'pink', if not an outright 'red'. This in turn affected his compositional prospects. His piano music is clearly that of a man who knows the keyboard. Hanson gave piano recitals and played standard repertoire as well as his own music. He had an easy, natural technique, without any undue movement or exaggerated mannerisms. Possessing a very fine ear, his playing constantly involved orchestration at the keyboard; one can hear this colouristic propensity at work in this very fine set of Preludes, with their word-paintings incorporated in the score. Since there was no composition tuition at the State Conservatorium in Sydney in those days, Hanson was employed to teach harmony and aural training, and he spent hours at the keyboard playing aural drill to students, mildly puzzled at how bad some people's ears were! Later in his career, he was allowed to teach what was then considered composition, but in reality was a historically driven style of harmony and counterpoint, as well as orchestration. Hanson had discovered Paul Hindemith's theoretical tracts, which for him pointed the way into a contemporary sound world that did not necessitate him disavowing his tonal roots. This is not to suggest that Hanson's music sounds like Hindemith - far from it. Hanson was actually closer to composers such as Sergei Prokofiev in his approach to the piano. Like many of his generation, one wishes that his output was larger, but teachers at the Conservatorium were paid for actual hours taught at that time; they were not salaried staff and had no superannuation benefits or anything else of that kind. It was really tough being a music teacher, even though superficially one had the status of being on the staff of a prestigious institution. Such matters did not change until the late '60s, after which time it became quite fashionable to actually employ composers as composers, instead of having them there but using them as aural drill teachers. Nevertheless, Hanson's contribution to the piano repertoire is very solid: apart from the set of Preludes, which are largescale virtuoso pieces and which work brilliantly as a cycle, there is fairly big Sonatina and a very fine Sonata, plus a set of Variations. Hanson's music is rugged, and reflects his difficult boyhood and the privations of the Great Depression, during which he earned his first pay-check at the age of 28, from the Army. Until then, he did odd and often unpleasant jobs, including being a sanitary carter in early twentieth century Sydney. His early compositions were from self-teaching, using his ear to remember his mother playing Bach and Chaminade. Apparently most of this juvenalia is lost, something that Ray would not have rued; he was always saying that young composers were far too eager to leap into print and get performed immediately. He never had any concern with being labelled 'Australian', and claimed not to know what this meant. However, Preludes were certainly inspired by a particular and specific landscape, although whether this is what makes them 'Australian' is debatable. That said, Preludes would still be very fine example of the genre without such knowledge. What is certain is that Hanson was imbued with a deep spirituality, and at one time in his life he even wanted to go to India as a missionary. While his piano music might not manifest these sentiments, they are nevertheless implicit. With it, there is a strong sense of a very flexible rhythm, which also belies Hanson's affection for jazz. While his music does not sound like jazz, there is nevertheless an attempt by the composer to capture jazz's spontaneity and rhythmic flexibility - something that is a core element of Hanson's music. Hanson was also certainly aware of the post-war avant-garde, yet did not wish to move in a direction that to him seemed more preoccupied with noise and technology than what he perceived as music. Similarly, Hanson remained resistant to the serialist vogue of the day. Ironically, he was instinctively correct, and the style pundits were wrong. Although recognition, commissions, recordings and awards came late in his life, at least Hanson lived to enjoy them, which is more than can be said of the generation that immediately preceded him. Show more