The music of Bradford-born composer Frederick Delius (1862–1934) is a love or hate affair. Whether you bask in the romantic lushness of his godless and nature-influenced ramblings, or find yourself drowning in a poor-quality school soup consisting of unappetisingly vague harmonic shifts, he is a composer that inspires passionate discussion. Personally, I am of the former camp and find Delius to be one of the most original and imaginative composers of the late 19th- and early 20th-centuries. Delius disliked his Bradford home and spent much of his life abroad, working in America, hiking in Norway and studying in Leipzig before finally settling at Grez-sur-Loing, around 40 miles south of Paris, where he died blinded and paralyzed by syphilis. The principal influences on his music are foreign and include the improvised songs of Solano Grove plantation workers in Florida, the poetry and philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, and nature itself, as we discover in Delius as I Knew Him by his amanuensis Eric Fenby: “In Florida, through sitting and gazing at nature, I gradually learnt the way in which I should eventually find myself...”
Of Delius’ six operas, A Village Romeo and Juliet is perhaps the most familiar; it is one of only two recorded more than once (the other being Fennimore and Gerda, 1908–10), and the only one to be made into a DVD. Composed between 1899 and 1901, it was completed at a time when Delius’ musical development was at its most mature and features the ten-minute masterpiece “The Walk to the Paradise Garden” – an intermezzo found before the closing scene. The plot, based on Swiss author Gottfried Keller’s short story Romeo und Julia auf dem Dorfe is simple and fundamentally the same as Shakespeare’s tragedy: Sali, son of Manz, and Vreli, daughter of Marti, are in love. Manz and Marti are peasant farmers feuding over unclaimed land and, in the heat of their anger, forbid their children to see one another. When grown, the lovers meet secretly; when discovered by Marti, Sali deals him a thump so shocking that Marti is driven insane and dies in an asylum – crazy plot twist, right? The pair run away to the woods and when encouraged to join a band of vagabonds, politely decline, make a suicide pact and drown themselves in a boat – so Peter Grimes wasn’t the first to sink in an English opera.
Tonight’s concert performance at the Queen Elizabeth Hall originally seemed to me a fitting tribute to Delius’ 150th birthday. Arriving 105 years after its première in Berlin, the opera has a remarkably small performance history and it would seem that getting this piece right is problematical.