Symphony No. 7 "Proserpine" (1957-59) +
Symphony No. 9 (1969) +
Symphony No. 8 (1961 orch. 1965) #
Symphony No. 10 "November Journeys" (1981-82) !
Symphony No. 11 (1985) *
Orchestral Suite No. 1 from "The Serf" (1938 arr. 1997) *
Symphony No. 12 (1989) *

+ BBC Philharmonic
# Philharmonia Orchestra
* Albany Symphony Orchestra
! BBC Philharmonic Brass

This release marks the continuation and conclusion of the special, boxed-set Signature Edition reissues on the esteemed Lyrita label of previously individually available recordings on the Albany Records label, of all the symphonies by British composer George Lloyd (1913-1998). The 4-Disc Set featuring the first six symphonies was released a month ago in March of 2024.

Symphony No. 7 "Proserpine" (rec. 1986) → You can tell that by this point, George Lloyd had totally mastered his orchestration skills and established his very own "sound" signature. Completed in 1959 it only saw its final orchestration touches 15 years later in 1974. Subtitled "Proserpine", it is influenced by the story of this Greek mythological figure, and is obviously programmatic in nature and earnestly more dramatic in tone. It is scored for a larger orchestra including multiple percussion instruments. Its climactic passages, especially in the final movement, are characterized by passionate and fierce power, and colorful and brilliantly evocative instrumental touches. The booklet notes go on to explain: It is tempting to assume that something more personal than the Proserpine legend lies behind Lloyd's Seventh Symphony. Surely it is here rather than in the B major serenity of the Fourth Symphony that Lloyd grappled with his horrific wartime experiences and gave artistic expression to his inner torment. In any event he identified so closely with the score that it affected his mental health: "I really wanted to die and I could never make up my mind whether I wanted to die because I had written Proserpine or I had written the symphony because I wanted to die. I was in a dreadful stew and I got lugged off to hospital". The strain of writing the Seventh Symphony had taken its toll on the composer and he vowed not to risk repeating the experience: "It took me quite a long time to clear my thoughts again. When I did, I thought, Oh, to hell with all this, I want to write something cheerful and bright and just think of the notes, and no particular programme. That's how the 8th came along, which has really no non-musical programme at all behind it. I just wanted to enjoy myself".

Symphony No. 8 (rec. 1996) → There's a Ravelian texture to the sound of this symphony's opening movement, calling again on large orchestral forces with augmented sets of instruments and a full array of percussion instruments including bells, tambourine and whip. Its opening Tranquillo - Allegro projects a totally opposite outlook to the opening of the 7th. Airy and unrestrained, it ascends to a powerful mid-section punctuated with brass declamations which quickly disperse and dissolve back into the free wheeling waters from which they came. The music gradually picks up steam only to regress back to its Tranquillo beginning. "Sadness seems to prevail throughout" was the composer's own description of the Largo middle movement. Outbursts of anger now and then pierce its dark veil, but not enough to allow light in, except for a single shaft right at the very end. As the Vivace final movement implies, hustle and bustle is par for the course now. A mix of Holst and Walton weaves in and out of the music at certain points, but once again Lloyd's ease of organic development makes it all his own, as the whole symphony ends with a quick burst of joy.

Symphony No. 9 (rec. 1984) → 1969 - the year this symphony was composed was also the year of the Woodstock Music Festival. In retrospect it's hard to imagine such disparate elements and manifestations of music coexisting. But 55 years hence and "classical" music is still going strong whilst "good" rock music, not so much ... but I digress. In the preface of the score George Lloyd wrote: "the first movement is about a young girl, she dances and is a little sentimental; the second is about an old woman who reminisces - grief-stricken; and the third is the merry-go-round that just keeps on going round and round". And let me emphasize that the old woman's memories are far from pleasant ones. Disjointed, ghostly sounds permeate the opening pages whilst the ending conjures up the idea of something forever lost. Lloyd at his most abstract. The final movement marches in with impunity, and like some of Dmitri Shostakovich's final movements, thumbs its nose at the world, and with whimsical passages à la Rossini and clever integration of a xylophone, defies anyone not to snicker at the absurdity of it all.

Symphony No. 10 "November Journeys" (rec. 1988) → Here's an oddity; a symphony scored exclusively for brass instruments. It was commissioned by the BBC for a work for the Northern Brass Ensemble. It is scored for one piccolo trumpet, three B-flat trumpets, one flugelhorn, three horns, three trombones, one euphonium and one tuba. From its Calma second movement to its Energico finale, it would put any brass ensemble members to the test. From soft, lyrically expressive lines to outbursts of not only wide dynamic range but pitch as well, it demands full collective control at all times, and the BBC Philharmonic Brass deliver on all counts.

Symphony No. 11 (rec. 1986) → This symphony's bold intro sort of reminds me of the main theme running through the Star Wars music by John Williams, but not in the theatrical sense if you know what I mean. It is again scored for a substantially large orchestra including a vast array of percussion instruments, with which Lloyd once again flexes his orchestration muscles. From full-on orchestral tuttis to mysteriously quiet passages for woodblocks and bells, this is an impressive work laid-out over five movements. In the end, its first movement may seem unresolved but no worries, the final Con esultazione movement more than makes up for it. Sort of like the ending of Gustav Mahler's 7th which caps to whole symphony in a powerful blaze of affirmation, and then some. If you thought that symphonic writing during the 1980s wasn't up to snuff, this could very well alter your perception. If you were to listen to only one of George Lloyd's symphonies, this should be the one.

Symphony No. 12 (rec. 1990) → Harking back to his First Symphony, the 12th is a single movement work divided into three segments, the first of which based on a theme and variations structure. Gone is the clamor and vociferation present in some of the previous symphonies, although now and then one can feel an undercurrent of disquiet. Its central Adagio movement in particular projects a deep and mournful sense of yearning for the full-sail days of yore. This symphony is a perfect example of less is more. Except for the fitting use of well-placed percussive elements during the final segment, its subdued orchestration allows for its elemental character to rise to the surface. And despite some well-attained climactic moments, the music closes with a profoundly peaceful sense of valediction.

Conducted by the composer himself, you couldn't get more insightful interpretations than found in these recordings. With unwavering audio quality from start to finish, regardless of the orchestra or recording venue, these newly-minted sets are a must for anyone invested in 20th century symphonic music. Heartily recommended!