Paul Hindmarsh
PHM Publishing
ISBN 978-1-0369-0132-5
This is a remarkable story of a pioneering composer who wrote largely for brass bands, yet considered that they were, in general, not fully committed to serious music. Wilfred Heaton (1918–2000) fell between two stools.
The Salvation Army, cradle and parameters of his early life, nurtured some of his conventional pieces, while rejecting most of his work as unsettlingly parodistic and radical; yet within the wider musical world his language was considered much too retrospective and conservative.
He was also a composer in other media, from which his brass band scores often developed, but many pieces are still largely unknown, unless in the rarified circles of brass aficionados. Not only has he been overlooked by Grove, but it has taken twenty years to complete the editing of his considerable output.
His parents were working-class, with a corresponding income and outlook, and had their own plans for him. There was no possibility of Heaton becoming an articled pupil, as did Howells and Gurney, although later in life he managed to afford a few lessons with Mátyás Seiber. His dedicated approach to work was strongly maintained, and is a pre-echo of Britten’s self-discipline.
What he would have become, had his Salvationist upbringing in Sheffield not stifled his earlier educational aspirations, one may only speculate. He wanted to be a composer, pure and simple, and he gave his all to it, hoping that his family would make the most of his legacy after his death.
Hindmarsh’s substantial and meticulous catalogue of works details a growing number of recordings, and lists incidental and orchestral music, adaptations and arrangements, a few solo songs and choral pieces, and some chamber music. Some of the brass band repertoire is available on CD, and Divine Art are preparing an issue of his piano music and songs for release this year.
In the meantime, a few videos on YouTube (with invaluable ones by Hindmarsh himself) make it abundantly clear that the composer had travelled far from youthful religious confines into post-Waltonian territory. It would be good to hear the Rhapsody for oboe and strings, written for Joy Boughton, and premiered by the Boyd Neel Orchestra under Norman Del Mar in 1954, and one may hope that someone is considering it for a future project.
Hindmarsh, already an established scholar of Frank Bridge, as well as through his long-standing work as a producer of brass band music for Radio 3 and elsewhere, has now completed many of Heaton’s late works, with scores available through his own imprint. He has achieved similar exemplary success with this handsome hardback, whose standards are on a par with Boydell & Brewer at half the price.
It was not until the dawn of more adventurous repertoire that Heaton’s thornier output began to surface again. Even then, he discouraged publication, while his reluctance to discuss his career, founded on an innate sense of diffidence that was strengthened by the philosophies of Rudolf Steiner, made any full appraisal almost impossible until now.
This volume is therefore not just an introduction but a timely analytical consideration, with many music examples and photos, a generous bibliography, and full indexing. Hindmarsh discusses fully Heaton’s influences, including that of Bartók, and lays particular emphasis on the pivotal work for brass, Contest Music (1973), identifying its Hindemithian sources, quotes and tributes.
To me it also has moments recalling Charles Ives, who, of course, was himself much influenced by the hymnody of his younger days. Even more so than with many such ventures, it is hoped that this issue will prompt investigations and further performances, befitting Heaton’s achievements. It immediately becomes the standard work on its subject, and it is unlikely to be surpassed.
Review by Andrew Plant