Royal Ballet Sinfonia
Pete Harrison, Gavin Sutherland, Barry Wordsworth conductors
HERITAGE HTGCD 117
To tackle this feast of upbeat effervescent showpieces without a break would be the equivalent of consuming a whole box of chocolates in one sitting. It may or may not be a subtle hint of what’s to come that the first track is entitled Capriccio, since Heritage’s celebration of Saunders’ popular scores is certainly much indebted to Richard Strauss in texture, harmonies, pacing and deployment.
Saunders studied under Edward Gregson at the Royal Academy of Music, where he won several prizes, and has pursued a flourishing career in myriad areas of the profession, including teaching, arranging for professionals and amateurs, and producing music for film and advertising. He can undoubtedly orchestrate; but unfortunately he appears to have only one style, which rapidly becomes tiresomely formulaic.
Since all but three of the pieces were written in 2025, it is hard not to envisage a fine craftsman over-mining a profitable seam. These are perpetually busy works, with climax after enthusiastic climax exploding with fanfares and flourishes: a side drum roll, a harp glissando, glockenspiel sprinkles, rushing strings.
Each essay blends so seamlessly into its successor that the difficulty of distinguishing individual pieces is greatly compounded. Three triumphant processions in the mood of Leroy Anderson (Parade of the Snowmen, Fairytale Sleighride, and Journey to Lapland) maintain the relentlessly exuberant optimism with scant essential contrast, and may occasionally recall Howard Blake’s score for The Snowman, although sadly without the unforgettable central tune.
For a little variation, we need to turn to Sketches of New York, where I wondered if the slow movements (Lonely Souls and Green Oases) might reveal the composer’s inner self, or prompt something akin to Copland’s Quiet City. But Saunders’ untroubled response is a brief and sweetly romantic cello solo, followed by watery dalliance that never allows itself to dwell on the darker areas of the metropolis. Perhaps the most Copland-like movement is the fleeting Adagio tranquillo of the Sinfonietta, but Saunders seems perpetually unwilling to develop his themes in any real sense, and we are soon returned to the world of uncomplicated through-composed cartoon music.
Lest I be accused of judging this CD for what it is not, praise must be given to the substantial craftsmanship inherent in these well-wrought light scores. They are ideal repertoire for family concerts, Friday Night is Music Night or Classic FM. In these days of meditative choral tone-clusters, it is also refreshing to encounter a composer who is clearly willing and able to write fast music. But man does not live on jam alone.
Review by Andrew Plant