Skip to content
RFSoc

Catalogue

Robert Farnon works: the catalogue, the symphonies and the losses

A works list for a composer who spent a career writing to order is a different object from a works list for a composer who wrote to commission, and this one has holes in it that will not be filled.

A thick stack of orchestral parts tied with cotton tape, the top sheet ruled with empty staves.
A works list for a composer who wrote to order is a partial reconstruction of what somebody was paid to produce, not a record of what he chose to write.

A working title on an index card

A producer in a cutting room needs ninety seconds of music for a sequence of a ship leaving harbour. They do not go to a composer. They go to a publisher’s library catalogue, look under a heading describing that sort of movement, find a card giving a title, a duration and a mood description, and order the disc.

That is the transaction most of Robert Farnon’s working life was organised around, and it explains almost everything peculiar about his works list. A piece written for that catalogue exists to be findable by somebody who has never heard it, which is why the titles of library music read as situations rather than as musical ideas. It is commissioned in batches. It carries the publisher’s reference rather than the composer’s name in the place where it is used. And once licensed it disappears into other people’s productions and stops being traceable at all.

A works list assembled from that is not a list of what a composer chose to write. It is a partial reconstruction of what somebody was paid to produce.

The pieces that are securely his

A small group of titles recurs across reissues, other orchestras’ recordings and broadcast use, and these are the ones any account of the Robert Farnon works has to start from.

Named light orchestral works, with the dates that can actually be supported.

WorkDateNote
Jumping Bean1955Released as the A side of a 78; the most reissued of his pieces
Portrait of a Flirt1955The B side of the same 78, and nearly as widely played
Westminster WaltzNovello Award 1956The award year is documented; the composition year is not consistently given
Peanut PolkaAmong the most played of the shorter pieces
Melody FairLends its title to a reissue collection of the orchestral recordings
Journey Into MelodyThe society's journal title puns on this piece
How Beautiful Is NightTaken up by other musicians, which is unusual for a light orchestral piece
A Star Is BornUnrelated to the films of that name
Manhattan PlayboyTitle in the American idiom the light orchestral catalogue traded in
Derby DayAn occasion piece, of the type broadcasters used seasonally
State OccasionCeremonial writing, a standing requirement of broadcast libraries
Gateway to the WestOne of the Canadian-subject pieces
Lake of the WoodsAlso Canadian in subject; the region straddles Ontario and Manitoba
À la claire fontaineA setting of the French-Canadian folk song
Pictures in the FireMood title of the kind a library index required
Concorde March1969Written for the aircraft's first flight year
Colditz march1972Television theme; still published as printed orchestral music
Symphonies 1–3third completed 2004The third dedicated to Edinburgh; premiered after his death

The empty cells in that table are the point of it. They are not an omission waiting to be tidied up by more research, and a version of this list with a plausible year in every row would be a worse document, because the years would have been supplied by inference. Where a date is given here it is because something specific supports it: a record release, an award citation, a commission, a completion reported while the composer was alive.

How one of these pieces is built

The pieces recur in other people’s repertoire because they are well made, and what well made means here is specific enough to describe.

The shape is almost always the same and it comes from the slot rather than from tradition. A short introduction establishes key and character in four or eight bars, because a broadcast piece has no time to arrive. The first strain states a tune that can be recognised on one hearing, which in practice means stepwise motion with one memorable interval in it rather than a line requiring familiarity. A contrasting middle section changes key and usually texture, most often by moving the interest from the melody instrument to the inner strings. Then the first strain returns, scored more fully, and the piece closes on a tag of a few bars.

Nothing in that is unusual as a plan. What distinguishes the good examples is the handling of the return, and it is the part an inexperienced arranger gets wrong. A restatement that simply adds instruments sounds louder rather than larger. The technique in these scores is to change what the accompanying parts are doing instead: the countermelody that was implied under the first statement becomes explicit, the harp fills the space the tune leaves, and the bass line moves where it previously held. The listener hears the tune arrive with more behind it, without being able to say what was added.

The three-minute limit is doing real work in all of this. Given six minutes a composer can develop material; given three, everything has to be stated correctly the first time. The discipline is closer to writing a song than to writing a movement, and the pieces that survive are the ones where that constraint was treated as the form rather than as a restriction on it.

Why a library piece resists dating

This is where a works list stops behaving like a chronology, and the reason is worth setting out properly rather than apologising for.

A commissioned concert work has one date that matters and everybody agrees on which one it is. A library piece has at least four. There is the date it was written, which is almost never recorded because nobody had a reason to record it. There is the recording session, which is documented on paperwork that sometimes survives. There is the date the disc entered the publisher’s catalogue, which is what a catalogue number encodes. And there is the first known use in a production, which is the only one an audience ever experienced and the one furthest from composition.

Those can be separated by years, and different reference sources choose different ones without saying which. A general encyclopedia entry tends to give whatever appeared first in print. A reissue booklet gives the session, because the compiler was holding the session sheet. An enthusiast discography may give the catalogue date. All three are right about different things, and a list that merges them silently produces a chronology that never happened.

If you are trying to establish when a particular piece was written, the practical advice is to find out which of the four dates your source is reporting before doing anything else with it.

The awards, and what they were for

Farnon held four Ivor Novello Awards, the British songwriting and composition awards administered by the professional body for writers and publishers, and the one identifiable by piece is Westminster Waltz in 1956. He was also appointed to the Order of Canada.

The pairing is a fair summary of his position. He was a Canadian who spent his working life in Britain, decorated by his own country for an output produced almost entirely in somebody else’s, and honoured in Britain by an institution representing writers rather than by a musical establishment that took little interest in the field he worked in. Light music had no academic constituency and no critical champion of consequence, and its practitioners were assessed by other practitioners.

That is also why the award record is thinner than the achievement. Prizes exist where there are institutions to give them.

The symphonies

The three symphonies sit awkwardly in the catalogue and are the part of it least performed.

They were written by somebody with forty years of practice at making an orchestra sound larger and clearer than it was, applied to a form with no running time to hit and no producer to satisfy. What that produced is not well documented in performance, because a symphony by a composer filed under light music enters a repertoire system that has nowhere to put it. The third was finished early in 2004, dedicated to Edinburgh following a visit to the festival, and first performed roughly three weeks after he died in April 2005.

A composer who has spent a career writing three-minute pieces to order and then writes three symphonies is making a statement about how he wished to be read. Whether the symphonies are good is a question the performance record has not yet been given the chance to answer.

What a works list can honestly claim

The secure part of the catalogue is small, well documented and still in circulation. The named light orchestral pieces are published, recorded, reissued and played, and their attribution is not in doubt. The awards are on the record. The symphonies exist and are datable.

The larger part is a working estimate. Library output was produced in volume under conditions that did not preserve authorship, credits were abbreviated or replaced, and the documents that would settle individual attributions survive unevenly and privately. Each systematic reissue project returns pieces to his name that were not previously assigned to him, which means the catalogue is still growing and the current total is a floor rather than a figure.

So the useful statement is not a number. It is that the shape of the output is understood, the reasons for its gaps are understood, and anybody who finds a piece attributed to him that is not on a published list has probably found something real rather than an error.

Frequently asked questions

What are Robert Farnon's best known works?

Jumping Bean, Portrait of a Flirt, Westminster Waltz, Peanut Polka and Melody Fair are the pieces that recur across reissues, broadcast use and other people's recordings. They share a length of around three minutes and a construction that survives being heard once, which is what the pieces were written for.

How many works did he write?

Nobody knows, and the reason is structural rather than careless. A large part of his output was written for publisher library catalogues, where pieces were filed by mood and duration for a producer to select from, and composer credits were abbreviated, omitted or replaced by house names. His accepted catalogue has grown with each reissue project that reads the paperwork alongside the discs, and there is no sign of that process having finished.

Which piece won the Ivor Novello Award?

Westminster Waltz took a Novello Award in 1956. He held four Ivor Novello Awards in total across his career, and was also appointed to the Order of Canada, so the recognition came from the country he worked in and the country he came from.

Did he write anything longer than a light orchestral piece?

Three symphonies, and they are the least heard part of the catalogue. The third was completed early in 2004 and dedicated to Edinburgh after a visit to the festival there. He did not hear it: the premiere fell about three weeks after his death in April 2005.

What is library music and why does it matter here?

Music written and recorded for a publisher's catalogue rather than for a particular production, licensed to whoever needs it. Producers selected from index cards describing mood, action and duration, which is why the titles read as situations rather than as musical ideas. It is the commercial descendant of the silent-cinema photoplay collections, which were organised the same way, and it is where a great deal of Farnon's output lives.

Is there a definitive published works list?

No, and any list presenting itself as definitive should be treated with suspicion. What exists is a set of overlapping sources: publisher catalogues, the specialist reissue booklets, discographical work by enthusiasts and societies, and the general reference entries. They agree on the well-known pieces and diverge in the tail, which is the normal state of a catalogue assembled after the fact.

Why are so few dates certain?

Because the useful date differs depending on the question and the sources record different ones. A library piece has a recording date, a catalogue release date and a first-use date, and those can be years apart. Reissue booklets usually give the recording session where it is known; general reference works tend to give whichever appeared first in print.

What does the title Journey Into Melody refer to?

It is one of his own pieces. The Robert Farnon Society's journal takes its title as a play on it, which is a small illustration of how closely the documentation of this repertoire is bound up with the enthusiasts who did it.

Are the works still published and available to perform?

The concert and light orchestral pieces are, through the publishers who hold them, and sheet music for the better-known titles including the Colditz march is commercially available. Library material is a different matter, since it was licensed rather than sold as printed music, and obtaining a performing set can mean approaching the publisher's archive directly.

Where do the recordings of his own works survive?

Chiefly in the reissue programmes that have worked through the original 78s and the light orchestral LPs, and in the publisher library discs. The specialist labels doing that work produce the best documentation of it as a side effect, because a reissue booklet needs the recording dates that nobody else had reason to publish.

Did other composers and arrangers record his pieces?

Frequently, and that is part of why the titles remain in circulation. A well-constructed three-minute orchestral piece with a memorable tune is useful to any light orchestra looking for repertoire, so the pieces travelled beyond his own recordings of them and turn up on other bands' albums throughout the period.

What happened to the pieces that were never credited?

They are still being heard, and mostly not under his name. A library track licensed into a television programme or a newsreel carries the production's credit rather than the composer's, and a piece can be familiar to millions without anybody knowing who wrote it. That is the ordinary condition of the trade rather than an injustice peculiar to him.

Sources
Checked
ART/RF-WORKS · 4 sources