Forging a Path The Douglas Lilburn Collection at the Alexander Turnbull Library

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 23, Issue 2, 1 October 1990, Page 147

Forging a Path The Douglas Lilburn Collection at the Alexander Turnbull Library

JILL PALMER

Music, it is said, speaks for itself. Yet behind the sounds that stream forth lie the complexities of a human being, his or her circumstances, environment and associations, as well as the techniques of the music itself. The music collections in the Alexander Turnbull Library’s Archive of New Zealand Music, besides providing the actual music in both score and sound, include papers of musicians which shed light on the music and its creators. These are particularly important in relation to contemporary music, which often requires explanation before appreciation can occur.

When composer Douglas Lilburn produced his plan for an Archive of New Zealand Music to be established at the Library, he made a commitment to deposit his personal collection of music scores and related materials. From the time of his first deposit, on 16 December 1974, he has added materials to what has become one of the Library’s 7 t j most important collections. As Douglas personally delivers items to the Library, there is a sense of his support of the Archive, pleasure that they are deposited here, and at times relief at having more cupboard space in his Thorndon home. He often gives valuable information on items. Yet in depositing materials he realises, as few do, that the keeping of archives is an expensive business. This realisation led him, in 1984, to establish the Lilburn Trust, a priority of which is to ensure funds for the preservation and promotion of New Zealand music. This magnificent gift to New Zealand music is administered by the Alexander Turnbull Library Endowment Trust Board, with a Music Advisory Committee consisting of Douglas Lilburn, Margaret Nielsen and the Turnbull Library’s Chief Librarian. In 1984 Lilburn was appointed Honorary Curator of the Archive.

When the Archive was established, a special condition was made to enable composers, needing ready access to their scores as part of their livelihood, to borrow materials they had placed in the Library. For this reason, many have deposited their collections on long-term loan with eventual bequest. The Lilburn collection began under this condition until 1984 when the sound recordings and papers were gifted; the scores remain on long-term loan.

Collections generated by living composers pose problems of arrangement and description. However, a grant from the Lilburn Trust has provided the Archive with a computer and software which can handle this. The Lilburn collection is the first to be input on a searchable database, from which an updateable inventory has been published. The inventory is organised into eleven series: music scores, sound recordings, writings by Douglas Lilburn, correspondence, New Zealand Broadcasting materials, ephemera, certificates, photographs, books and serials, family papers and miscellaneous papers. Access to published materials and sound recordings is unrestricted; however, only photocopies of manuscript scores are handled by researchers unless there is genuine need to see an original. Access to correspondence requires the permission of the Chief Librarian or, in certain cases, the written permission of the copyright holder. Researchers needing copies of scores or of unpublished items must first have the copyright owner’s written permission.

Because several scores have become worn through use over the years, Douglas Lilburn has organised the recopying of some, and eventually all will be microfilmed for preservation and wider distribution for research. The music scores, sketches and parts, written with few corrections in Lilburn’s distinctive, meticulous hand, consist of works and arrangements by him, and a few by other composers. Fortunately he dated most of his scores. After I had remarked to him that additional information would be useful for researchers, subsequent deposits came with handwritten notes, giving information such as first performances or who rejected what. This background information is otherwise not readily available.

One such note, included with his Opus 1, Piano Sonata in C (ca. 1932), reads: ‘written while a student at Waitaki Boys’ High School, with what untrained ingenuity I may have had’. This work, handed in to a teacher in place of‘an essay on some patriotic theme’, 2 shows promise even if the music notation is not quite accurate. By 1940 however, his Overture Aotearoa (Plate I) with score and sketches signed and dated ‘March llth-28th ’4o’, is evidence of his rapid development as a composer. Written for the New Zealand Centenary Matinee, it was first performed on 15 April 1940 at His Majesty’s Theatre, London, by the Sadlers Wells Orchestra, with Warwick Braithwaite conducting. The overture was a landmark in Lilburn’s career and remains a favourite with audiences.

Before this, however, the scores and sketches of prizewinning works mark his activities: Forest (1936), the tone poem which won Percy Grainger’s award for a New Zealand orchestral work, convincing his father, Robert Lilburn, to finance him to attend the Royal College of Music; Phantasy for String Quartet (1939) based on the old air ‘Westron

Wynde’, which won the Cobbett prize at the Royal College of Music; and Drysdale Overture (1937), Festival Overture (1939), and Prodigal Country (1939), prizewinners in the New Zealand Centennial Music Celebrations Competition. Later, in 1944, his Prelude and Fugue for organ won the Otago University’s Philip Neill Memorial prize.

Douglas Lilbum’s first published work was his Prelude for {fiano, which appeared in Lady Newall’s New Zealand Gift Book in 1943. 3 Two years later this piece was included in Four Preludes for piano, published by the Caxton Press. The few sketches and printed editions of these works were given added research value by the donation in 1987 of painter and printer Leo Bensemann’s collection. 4 This included two of the original manuscripts and the Caxton Press printing blocks for this publication, as well as other small works, mostly for piano, composed by Lilburn for Bensemann and another friend, Lawrence Baigent, as Christmas and birthday gifts. Included are A Musical Offering of Preludes, Musical-boxes and a Tempo di Bolero for 6 hands, with a dedication by Lilburn showing his keen sense of humour, and a transcription for piano of his Players’ Music from Hamlet, originally composed for the Canterbury University College Drama Society.

Living in Christchurch from 1941 to 1947, Lilburn was influenced by rich associations with poets, artists, writers, and musicians, as well as the Drama Society whose memorable productions by Ngaio Marsh were enhanced by his incidental music: Hamlet (1943), Othello (1944), A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Plate II) and King Henry V (1945), and Macbeth (1946). Following his move to Wellington in 1947 to take up an appointment in music at Victoria University, he composed incidental music for New Zealand Broadcasting Service Drama Department productions, the New Zealand Players, and Wellington Repertory. His association with the National Film Unit produced the music for the feature film Journey for Three, and he composed the score for the BBC documentary This is New Zealand.

The collection of film and drama scores is incomplete. For example, the score for the New Zealand Players’ Dandy Dick ‘went missing after the tour’, with only sketches remaining. Other works, such as This is New Zealand, are intact, and even include parts. As may be expected, the collection contains the scores and related materials for his three symphonies and other orchestral works, his chamber music, instrumental works and vocal music, the latter including fine settings of New Zealand poetry.

There are the works composed for special occasions such as the Processional Fanfare for the Final Congregation of the University of New Zealand (1961), later arranged for wider performance, and works for friends such as ‘Three Bars for the Blood and Bone’, written for pianist Margaret Nielsen, who required only ‘three bars’ in payment for blood and bone she delivered for his garden. There are also the sketches for a Suite for brass band (1958) which was ‘never finalised’. Scores of arrangements consist of two Mozart Divertimenti from Piano Sonatas in B flat and in D for four hands, and Overture in D by Carl F. Abel, arranged by Lilburn for the National Broadcasting

Service Strings in the early 1940 s when music for this medium was difficult to obtain. The collection includes a few works by other composers, three written as birthday greetings for Lilburn, and a small collection of mostly printed music either sent to him for perusal or collected by him.

Douglas Lilburn classed one group of his scores as ‘oddments’ and he remarked that there was no need to catalogue them. 5 However, hidden among them were several pieces written for individuals and occasions, as well as significant items relating to other works, notably the original version with revisions of the Finale of his Sonata for Violin and Piano in C (1943), and an important sketch on one large leaf outlining his early electronic work The Return. In 1980, Douglas Lilburn deposited the master tapes of his electronic works, together with a few other recordings. He kindly arranged for me to attend a class at Victoria University to learn techniques in handling tape and sound equipment. This instruction proved invaluable in helping to plan for sound in the new National Library building, for which the Lilburn Trust also funded certain pieces of equipment. The Lilburn tapes have now been dubbed onto archival tape for longterm preservation, and listening copies have been made for use within the Library.

The Library’s collection of Lilburn’s commercially-released recordings includes an early Tanza disc of the music for Journey for Three , conducted by the composer. There is also an unique unpublished disc of Lilburn playing the fourth of his Five Bagatelles for piano; a tape of Lilburn interviewed by Jack Body; and a recording of the Waitaki Boys’ High School Song composed by Lilburn. Recently he arranged for Radio New Zealand to supply the Library with recordings of certain works, notably his incidental music for Saint Joan, together with radio programmes on this work involving himself and Richard Campion. A collection of his writings includes programme notes, particularly for broadcasts of his electronic works. There are also radio scripts for his programmes for the 1969 UNESCO Rostrum of Composers, for ‘Journey for Three’ and for ‘A Retrospective View of New Zealand Composers and their Circumstances’ presented on the one hundredth edition of Owen Jensen’s programme ‘Music Ho!’.

With his interests in literature, it is not surprising to find significant writings by Douglas Lilburn. There are the manuscripts of his talks ‘A Search for Tradition’ given in 1946 at the first Summer School of Music at Cambridge, New Zealand, and of his University of Otago Open Lecture ‘A Search for a Language’ (19691, both subsequently published by the Alexander Turnbull Library. His former teacher Ralph Vaughan Williams, painter Evelyn Page, Indian sitar virtuoso Ravi Shankar, and contemporary music are also subjects of talks.

Various reports, memos, notes and articles document some of his activities as a university teacher and composer, the latter including the business of publishing, recording, signing contracts and preserving New Zealand composers’ works. Douglas Lilburn has kept an amazing number of letters. These date from around 1935 to the present, and there are still ‘three trunkloads to come’. The first package of letters to come were those of Vaughan Williams, who expresses his hope that Douglas will continue composing. The reason for this concern is found in a letter dated 5 September 1941 from Vaughan Williams to Frederick Page, another of his students, where he writes, ‘Give my love to Lilburne [sic] and tell him he must try & combine farming and music’. 7 The previous year Douglas had returned to New Zealand and was working on his sister’s sheep farm in Taihape while her husband was at war. Copies of the Vaughan Williams letters have been deposited in the British Library; unfortunately, Vaughan Williams did not keep Lilburn’s letters.

The next deposit of correspondence, consisting of greetings cards, letters and postcards, came in bulk envelopes. As it includes letters from writers, poets, artists, musicians, playwrights, arts organisations, educators, administrators, students, publishers, composer organisations, broadcasting bodies, and, according to Douglas, ‘officials and mandarins’, it is a cultural goldmine. Correspondents include conductor Leon de Mauny, pianists Tessa Birnie and Ernest Empson, composers Aaron Copland, Alfred Hill and Denis Smalley, German guitarist Siegfried Behrend, poets Ruth Dallas and Charles Brasch, writer Ngaio Marsh and organisations ranging from Amnesty International to the Wellington City Council.

There are letters of appreciation, greetings on special occasions, and even a terse note from an irate neighbour in London complaining about Douglas incessantly practising his piano exercises. 8 Letters often enclose articles, newscuttings, programmes and unpublished poems. A lively correspondence passed between Denis Glover and Douglas Lilburn, particularly on Sings Harry and on poetry. A simple mention by Glover concerning the view from his flat 9 brought forth the following from Douglas: 22 Ascot Terrace Wellington 1 14 May 1980 Dear Denis, A cheer from your pumpkineer. If I waken at 3am I remember that Ghandi [sic] used to be up at that hour to recite the old prayers, and so I mumble my own. If it happens to be 4am or later, I’ll think of you watching for Tapuaenuku. But I’m alarmed to hear that dawn ‘infiltrates’ your early morning consciousness,

perhaps even ‘percolates it, sifts into it secretly and for subversive purposes’. ‘Dawn breaks’/‘night falls’/‘darkness descends’ —the cadences are as venerable as those of the good old hymns on which my tender ears were nurtured. But just try saying/singing: ‘Dawn infiltrates’ — it can hardly be imagined unless as a rousing chorus for the Salvation Army. And for ‘more of worse’ (quote Glover), try the rhythm of ‘infiltrating dawn’. You once took me to task for my innocent use of ‘envisage’ —an ‘undesirable Gallicism’ as I later learnt, while gaining nothing from some seven synonyms proffered. I once set two of C.B.’s ‘Sonnets of Islands’, and then baulked at the third because of his ‘unambiguous lineaments’ —utterly unsingable. Charles was unmoved and in no way helpful. These are just a few of my thoughts about poets. Best wishes, and some morning soon may your summoning light infilter in gentle rhythm of infiltering dawn. 10

Denis Glover’s collection does not include the original of this letter; fortunately Lilburn kept copies of a considerable amount of his outward correspondence. A small group of letters, given to Lilburn, for his information or keeping, includes additional Glover gems and a letter from Ernest Empson to Douglas’ mother, Rosamond Lilburn, in which he conveys, along with his bill for piano lessons, his admiration for Lilburn’s ‘excellent powers of application’ in his musical studies. 11 There is also correspondence between various broadcasting bodies and individuals relating to his works and those of others. An interesting group of New Zealand broadcasting-related materials covering the period 1960 to 1982, reveals the wide range of activities in which Douglas was engaged, as well as some of the economic aspects of being a composer. Programmes, newscuttings, articles, brochures and invitations from 1930 to 1986 further document his works and activities in New Zealand and overseas.

A series of personal papers includes testimonials, awards, diplomas, examination results, award certificates and a few official papers. A particularly important memo dated 17 May 1937 from J. Hight, Rector of Canterbury University, confirms that Lilburn had indeed qualified for his 8.A., and Diplomas in Journalism and in Music. However, they had never been officially conferred upon him. Pointing out this memo to me, Douglas seemed pleased to add it to his collection, as in the eyes of some he had proceeded ‘unqualified’ through his career, albeit a remarkable one, until his Honorary Doctorate from the University of Otago in 1969. Certificates record successes in the 1940 centennial competitions; his Honorary Doctorate; APRA’s Certificate for ‘Outstanding Services in the Cause of Music’ (1975); the Composers’ Association Citation for ‘outstanding pioneering work in the promotion and publication of New Zealand music’ (1978); and a scroll wishing him ‘Hail and fare

well’, from students and colleagues on his retirement in 1980 from Victoria University. In 1988 he was awarded the Order of New Zealand for outstanding services to New Zealand. Paving the way in New Zealand music, Lilburn followed in the pioneering tradition of his ancestors. His great-grandmother, Jessie Campbell (nee Cameron), arrived from Scotland in 1840, and a typescript copy of her diary, written on board the Blenheim, is included in the collection, was well as a copy of the Lilburn family genealogy.

A photograph of a remarkable manuscript family document dated 1503, copied in 1841, relates how Thomas, William and James Douglas fled from the parish of Drysdale to the Ochil Hills, following a fight defending their lands against a neighbour who, supported by his friend the King, attempted to channel water to his mill through their property. With only eight men against the neighbour’s twenty, the Douglases killed fifteen, including the neighbour, and ended up with a price on their heads. To remain incognito in their new home, they adopted Drysdale as the family name. The Lilburn family farm in the Turakina Valley, on which Douglas was raised, his Drysdale Overture , and indeed his own first name have their origins in this episode.

One wishes there were more photographs in the collection. There are a few formal portraits of Lilburn and photos taken with other musicians, several of the Electronic Music Studio at Victoria University and also of Douglas experimenting with electronic music in a Wiltshire barn. Of particular interest are two albums of photographs of the Ngaio Marsh productions, compiled especially for Douglas, and a photograph of the composer taking a bow with the Boyd Neel String Orchestra in the Wellington Town Hall following the first performance of his Diversions. The reviewer of this concert called the work one of ‘high merit’ and noted that its performance was ‘greeted with immense enthusiasm . . . Douglas Lilburn, who was present, was beckoned to the front of the audience by the conductor three times, and was applauded to the echo.’ 12 The photograph’s mount is inscribed by Boyd Neel followed by signatures of the orchestra members. London’s Comprehensive Musical Guide noted that Diversions was a ‘great success’ and that Boyd Neel would probably introduce this work to English audiences. 13

The final two series of the collection consist of a few periodical articles concerning performances of his works and reviews of New Zealand poetry. There are also poems given to him, lists of New Zealand books and poetry which he offered to the Turnbull Library in 1985, and a few subject files materials of APRA, papers relating to New Zealand’s pavilion at Expo 70 in Japan, the Guild of New Zealand Composers, and the New Zealand Composers Foundation. Each collection has its own personality, reflecting its creator. Occasionally additional Lilburn items come into the Library from

various sources, adding details to make a more complete picture than the collection already affords. This picture is one of a highly-esteemed composer and teacher, who has forged a path for the recognition of a New Zealand musical identity. The collection, centred on one person, reveals a kaleidoscope of activities, branching out to touch the lives of many. One can glimpse the genesis of a composition, feel the excitement of a fine performance, become frustrated at bureaucratic bungles, share concern for conserving our environment, sense the essence of Polynesia wafting through the mists, or the lone cry of a bird winging its way across a New Zealand shore. The Lilburn collection, quite simply, reflects New Zealand.

REFERENCES 1 Douglas Lilburn. Papers, 1930-87. MS Group 9. Alexander Turnbull Library. (Hereafter cited as Lilburn.) 2 John Mansfield Thomson, Biographical Dictionary of New Zealand Composers (Wellington, 1990), p. 86. 3 Lady Newall’s New Zealand Gift Book (Wellington, 1943). 4 Leo Bensemann. Papers, 1934-79. MS Group 24. Alexander Turnbull Library. 5 Lilburn, fMS Papers 2483, folder 46. 6 Douglas Lilburn, A Search for Tradition and A Search for a Language (Alexander Turnbull Library Endowment Trust, assisted by the New Zealand Composers Foundation, 1984 and 1985). 7 Frederick and Evelyn Page. Papers, 1913-83. MS Papers 3903: 1/1/33. Alexander Turnbull Library. 8 E. Holmes to [Douglas Lilburn], ca. 1939. Lilburn, MS Papers 2483, folder 66. 9 Denis Glover to Douglas Lilburn, xxxiii mense Aprilis mcmlxxx [33 April 1980] [sic]. Lilburn, MS Papers 2483, folder 62. 10 Douglas Lilburn to Denis Glover. Lilburn, MS Papers 2483, folder 111. C. B. is Charles Brasch. 11 Ernest Empson to Mrs R. Lilburn, 11 February 1935. Lilburn, MS Papers 2483, folder 123. 12 Dominion, 10 July 1947, p. 8. 13 London’s Comprehensive Musical Guide (December 1947), p. 29. Lilburn, MS Papers 2483, folder 165.