Ruth Gipps was a distinguished composer, performer, conductor, and public voice for feminism in the arts in Great Britain until her death in 1999. She born into a middle class English, business family, of which many were excellent musicians. Her talent surfaced when she was very young, and her skills as an oboist, pianist, and composer grew at impressive rate. She was only eight years old when she was first published. She entered the Royal College of Music when she was fifteen, where she studied with Vaughan Williams, among others. From that time on her career brought her prizes and awards, as well as public performances of her works. She was honored with a performance of her tone poem at the Promenade Concerts in 1942, when she was twenty-one. In 1948 she was the youngest woman to earn a doctorate in music in Great Britain.
She sought a career as a concert pianist, but along the way earned her living as a professional oboist. She finally settled upon conducting as a focus, but faced lifelong difficulties in that aim, owing to her gender. So, she formed her own orchestra, which finally led to more opportunities as a conductor. Later, she taught and served as a leader of music in Britain in various capacities. But, composition was her forte, and she contributed a distinguished series of orchestra works, as well as chamber and choral music.
Her concerto for horn was composed in 1968 for her son Lance Baker, who gave the première with his mother conducting, but for many years it did not enjoy as many performances as this admirable work deserves. And that is simply because it is a formidable challenge to even the best players. However, its difficulties don’t knock you in the face with dazzling roulades of virtuosity. Certainly, the rapidly-tongued arpeggios and formidable four-octave range pose significant challenges, but it all is simply part of the natural course of her artistic vision—not an end within itself. In fact, the technical challenges are so integral, that at times they sound deceptively easier than they actually are.
The concerto is cast in the traditional three movements, but that is all that is traditional. The first movement moves along, but the mood is somewhat reflective, eschewing the typical gravitas of a first movement. Instead of the usual slow, middle movement, Gipps composed a scampering scherzo. And the finale, while beginning suitably energetically, soon turns to a slow, lyrical section that leads to alternating fast and slow moments. While commentators place her firmly in the line of late Romantic English musical style—Vaughan Williams and the other “pastoralists”—there is much in her music that, to this writer, is somewhat redolent of the “sound” of Debussy. She was a master of orchestration, and that of her horn concerto, in its pastel colors, its lightness, and its transparent, imaginative textures, seems so French in essence. Comparisons in the arts can be odious, but nothing comes to mind so strongly as does Debussy’s Première rhapsodie for clarinet. There are many points of subtle similarity, but that’s for another time.
The first movement is based around a few easily discerned themes, traded off mainly between the woodwinds and the solo horn. As a woodwind player herself, Gipps imaginatively features the former, both with solos and in section scoring. The horn part, itself, is rather gestural and ruminative—it right away explores the highest and lowest range of the instrument—it all seems rather casual and yet supremely confident. The middle section is more rhythmic, with astoundingly difficult rapidly tongued passages in the solo horn. These ideas, combined with the initial ones, are recapped, ending with a cadenza that probes the main ideas. A serene, gentle conclusion ends it all.
The innovative choice of a scherzo movement comes next, and an ethereal, gossamer-like affair it is. Cast primarily in the somewhat unusual time signature of 7/8, it lightly skips along, gently pulsing in beats of 2+2+3. And, as in the first movement, the solo horn constantly engages in “conversations” with various woodwinds. There is a brief interlude near the end, where the tempo slows significantly, and introduced by woodwinds alone, the solo horn ascends quietly from “de profundis” for a meditative gesture. But, the light, faster tempo proper quickly returns for an abbreviated recap of the opening.
The vigorous last movement is rather like the traditional rondo, so common in these works, and is built around two ideas, both heard immediately in the string section. One is the main motive and the other is a jagged arpeggio that serves at first as an accompaniment. Both are explored thoroughly in the movement, including in the slower and more serene moments. It’s not a long movement, and perhaps the most interesting moment comes near the end where there is a remarkable exchange between the solo horn and the celesta. But then, that is thoroughly characteristic of Gipps’ sparkling orchestration and general brilliant “sizzle” throughout. There are many virtues to Gipps’ horn concerto, and should only whet one’s appetite to hear more of her symphonic works. She was a pioneer for women in classical music in Great Britain, a composer of the very top tier, and one whose musical style is not just attractive and accessible, but clearly exemplary of what so many capable composers strive for and fail to achieve: a distinctive voice. Her music is long overdue for widespread performance.
–Wm. E. Runyan
©2022 William E. Runyan