When this is mixed with soot from innumerable fires in oil refineries, the resultant grime adheres to every surface, unpleasant to sight and repellent to touch. In 1950, the interior of London’s Albert Hall was still thus coated, despite valiant efforts by cleaners over the previous five years. Part of the central dome was shielded with corrugated iron and the organ worked only in fits and starts. Concert goers, ignoring these inconveniences, flocked to see and hear artists, many famous at the time, many now largely forgotten.
I was in an audience in that year that heard an early – possibly the first – performance of Malcolm Arnold’s First suite of English Dances, a thoroughly enjoyable interlude in an otherwise heavyweight programme. The composer’s name was familiar but hard to place. Then, after the performance, he came on to take a bow to enthusiastic applause. Of course! - the young man who occupied the first trumpet desk with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, his name appearing in their programmes. Brilliant and, judging by his demeanour as he took his bow, modest too.
After that, his music was heard everywhere, at first largely in film scores. Documentaries were then produced in immense numbers and we learned much about steel, mining, oil and electricity, cotton, women at war, local newspapers to the accompaniment of Arnold’s scores. His music was also used in the film recording the Royal Tour of New Zealand in 1954.
At the same time, he composed for many feature films from Antony & Cleopatra and Whistle Down the Wind to Bridge Over the River Kwai ("Colonel Bogey") and the St Trinian’s films (the school song, is also Arnold’s work). Few people would not recognise at least one of his compositions, even if they could not name the composer. His orchestral and instrumental music, full of character and not infrequently humorous sometimes reflects his special interest brass instruments.
The popularity of his work seems due to his invariable observance of three basic requirements – melody, rhythm and form. It is therefore widely enjoyed and much is available on CD. Sneers at his versatility by critics and some members of the musical establishment did him no lasting harm.
Malcolm Arnold, like most people, endured periods of intense sadness: life proved how unkind it could be, and he said that his music reflected his view of human nature. It is frequently a much more cheerful a view than many might have formed under similar circumstances. Three biographers have recorded the events of his life and one, at least, has tried to show the specific influences these had on his work:-
Tony Meredith and Paul Harris wrote Malcolm Arnold, Rogue Genuis ;
Paul Jackson wrote The Life and Music of Sir Malcolm Arnold;
Piers Burton-Page wrote Philharmonic Concerto - the official biography.
He was born in 1921 and died September 23, 2006 after a spell of ill-health.
