ELGAR'S ENIGMAS

Letters and Comments

© The Musical Times, Aug. to Oct. 1970 (pp. 801, 895 & 998)

ELGAR'S ENIGMAS

I have been following closely Mr Sams's articles and the subsequent correspondence an Elgar's crypto­graphy. One important and relevant point seems to have escaped attention so far. Several composers, from Josquin des Prez onwards, have derived themes from the letters of people's names, and Bach's signing his own name in the music of The Art of Fugue is well-known. It is highly possible that Elgar signed his name in, not one, but practically all his major works. In Elgar's case the result was a chord consisting of the notes E-C#-G-A (reading from the bass up), ie the 2nd inversion of the dominant 7th, with the root at the top. This chord can be more or less derived from the letters of Elgar's name: the R is silent, and if H-L are allotted to the appropriate black notes, L will correspond to C#; alternatively, the C# can be regarded as a harmonic necessity to fill out the three-note chord E-G-A.

     To achieve the effect Elgar would want - that of giving his works a personal stamp by literally writing his name in the music - this “Elgar chord” would be best used in a striking manner at important points, such as main themes, in his major works. And that is precisely how it is used (sometimes transposed). Readers might like to verify this for themselves; a few examples, in all of which the crucial chord is the first chromatic one in the theme, are as follows. Pomp and Circumstance March no 1, Trio, bar 7; Symphony no 1, first movement, sixth bar after fig 3, third beat; Enigma Variations, Nimrod, bar 3 last crotchet; Cello Concerto, first movement, third bar after fig 4, second beat.

Oxford                                                                                                                                                      barry cooper

DEEP MALVERN WATERS

Surely it can no longer be doubted that the “hidden melody” of Elgar's portrait-variations is Old Man River? At the time Elgar was professionally in deep

water, though the tide was turning. As an inveterate leg-puller it was easy for him to hide behind the mask of the “Ole Man [Gerontius] Ribber” - no longer in his own eyes a rivulet from the Bavarian Highlands cascading down (cf Caractacus, and also Jaeger, to most people's minds less of a hunter than a jumper), but a broad stream flowing on nobilmente, true Malvern Water.

     Of course he wished to keep his secret (“He don't say nothing”), and - another fluvial metaphor ­ under no Circumstance would he be Pumped; instead, he jes' keeps rolling along, like the river and this whole boring correspondence.

Norwich                                                                                                                        thomas browne (Kt)

ELGAR'S ENIGMAS

Eric Sams and Roger Fiske have surely proved together that Auld lang syne is the “larger theme”. May I rush in to suggest a reason for Elgar's prevarication and Mrs Powell's consequent distress as reported by Roger Fiske.

     In the climate of the 1890s and as a relatively unknown young composer, Elgar would surely have thought of Auld lang syne as a “larger theme” without any conflict or embarrassment. On the other hand, as this century grew with its snobbish divisions between different sorts of music, and as the variations became accepted as one of the masterpieces of the world, and as Elgar's own position became more established and honoured, Auld lang syne would surely have come to seem too unim­portant a tune for the dignity of the occasion. It would, surely, have been only human for Elgar to find embarrassment in a tune that some people would have thought not good enough for the Enigma and, once having prevaricated (or lied), to find himself embarrassingly stuck with it. This is not written to denigrate a great man but merely to suggest that he was also a human one.

Dublin                                                                                                                                 charles acton

*

As I see it, the Enigma solution is as follows: based on what Elgar originally did and not on what he subsequently said. On the autograph full score is stated “Commenced February 5 ended February 19 1899”. My friend the Rt Rev John Richards, Bishop of St Davids, pointed out that in the Quinquagesima Mass in the Epistle there would be the words of the Vulgate version of 1. Cor. 13.12: “Videmus nunc per speculum in enigmate”, the last word being from the Greek, meaning “in a riddle” or, as we usually know it, “darkly”. Elgar gave the clue soon afterwards by saying in the programme note: ‘The enigma I will not explain - its "dark saying" must be left unguessed'.

     Elgar was a practising Roman Catholic at the time and knew his Vulgate well. In 1899 Quin­quagesima Sunday fell on February 12 - bang in the middle of his last week's work, orchestrating his Variations for Orchestra, op 36, “Dedicated to my Friends pictured within”. Did Elgar go to church that day? Mrs Elgar Blake, by reference to her mother's diary, was able to tell me that he did.

     By referring to a Chapter 13, which is divided into 13 verses, Elgar was to see his 13 friends in a new light, and they him. The completed score, with the word “Enigma” added at the top of the first page of music (not attached to the theme), was immediately sent to the great conductor, Richter, who gave the first performance on June 19, 1899. It was to be a turning point in Elgar's career: an unknown provincial became a world famous composer.

                                                                                                                                                                     ian parrott

This correspondence is now closed - Editor