The leading theatrical composer of his day, and one of the outstanding musical figures of this century. Those who have long known Norman O’Neill’s music for ‘The Blue Bird’, ‘Mary Rose’, ‘A Kiss for Cinderella’, ‘Kismet’, and so many other plays, can now see that the man himself was as charming and distinctive as everything he wrote. No one has ever been more popular in the world of music or the theatre than O’Neill — and whether as musical director of the Haymarket Theatre for over twenty years, treasurer of the Royal Philharmonic Society, composer and conductor for the BBC, teacher at the R.A.M., or genial companion at the Savage Club, his influence was most widely felt.
—Derek Hudson, 1945
The text is taken from the back cover of Norman O’Neill — A Life in Music, the biography of the composer published in 1945. O’Neill had the misfortune to die in the same year as Elgar, Holst and Delius — he was a friend of all three — and although he was much respected and loved during his lifetime his reputation and music have not fared so well over the past 80 years.
Norman O’Neill (1875 – 1934) was the leading British theatrical composer of the 1920s and 30s and was possibly destined for Hollywood at the time of his death. He composed music for more than 50 plays, notably by J.M. Barrie, Shakespeare, A.A. Milne, Ibsen, Walter Scott and Ashley Dukes, showing a remarkable aptitude for devising music which enhanced a situation and reflected the stage characters. He studied composition with Arthur Somervell and subsequently with Iwan Knorr in Frankfurt, alongside fellow students Balfour Gardiner, Percy Grainger, Cyril Scott and Roger Quilter — subsequently nicknamed the ‘Frankfurt Gang’. O’Neill was Musical Director of the Haymarket Theatre (London) from 1908 to 1919 and returned there in 1920 for the production of J.M. Barrie‘s Mary Rose — one of his most successful scores. He was a prolific composer, writing in many genres, and at the time of his untimely death was at the very height of his musical powers.
Soliloquy for double bass and piano is Norman O’Neill‘s only work for double bass and was composed in 1926 for the English double bassist Victor Watson (1886 – 1963). There is no mention of the piece in Derek Hudson‘s book and it was unknown and forgotten until I discovered the manuscript in 2005, 79 years after its premiere. Watson, alongside Eugene Cruft, was one of the most pre-eminent London orchestral bassists of the day, and often performed as a soloist. His recital at London’s Wigmore Hall on Thursday 15 April 1926 was the first double bass recital ever to be heard at the hall and included a wonderfully rich mixture of solo repertoire, where he was joined by Steuart Wilson (tenor), Frank Howard (viola), Herbert Lodge (double bass) and Sidney Crooke (piano).
At the time of the concert, Soliloquy was simply described as New Work and this was its first performance — the concert included five further premieres (Bernard Van Dieren, Charles Woodhouse, Bottesini, Dragonetti/Nanny, Herbert Hughes). The three-page manuscript score of Soliloquy is written in O’Neill’s hand and the work is dedicated to Victor Watson. It is likely that the bassist had known and worked with the composer in London and had simply asked a number of friends to write new works for his Wigmore Hall recital, O’Neill one of them.
Soliloquy is a short lyrical solo, originally in solo tuning, and was composed for a 3-stringed bass, or certainly only uses three strings. Utilising the full solo range of the instrument, it employs long, expansive and lyrical phrases demonstrating the sonorous and cantabile qualities of the solo double bass. A wistful quality, and Delius-like harmonies, produce a work of great quality and beauty and give an indication of the solo performance skills of Victor Watson whose recital was an amazing programme for the day.
Early 20th-century British works for solo double bass are as rare as hen’s teeth this is a work of great quality which deserves a place in the solo repertoire. It is a wonderfully rhapsodic and brief miniature from a composer who was one of the most popular composers of the day, although largely forgotten today. The accompaniment is effective and supportive, full of wonderful and original music which contrasts and enhances the lyrical solo line as the bassist ascends into the higher registers. It had lain unknown and forgotten for many years and I was pleased to give the ‘modern premiere’ on 2 October 2005, and it is now published by Recital Music and with piano accompaniments for both solo and orchestral tuning.
Norman O’Neill’s name is not one generally known today, but he was a composer of high repute during his lifetime, writing music of great quality and musical worth. Why has he been forgotten and overlooked? I have no idea, but there does seem to be a little more interest in his music over the past few years, and I am pleased to have brought this beautiful and exquisite mini-masterpiece back to life.
Conclusion: Unveiling O’Neill’s Forgotten Elegance
Norman O’Neill, a luminary of the early 20th-century British musical landscape, left an indelible imprint on theatrical compositions that graced the stages of his time. Celebrated for his contributions to plays like ‘The Blue Bird’ and ‘Mary Rose,’ O’Neill’s influence stretched across diverse roles—musical director, conductor, teacher, and genial companion.
Derek Hudson’s poignant description in 1945 captures the essence of O’Neill’s charm, emphasizing not just his musical prowess but his distinctiveness as a person. However, O’Neill’s legacy faced an untimely dimming alongside other giants like Elgar, Holst, and Delius in 1934. Despite his popularity during his lifetime, the passage of 80 years witnessed a fading of his reputation and the music he crafted.
Within O’Neill’s repertoire lies the hidden treasure, “Soliloquy” for double bass and piano. This miniature masterpiece, composed in 1926 for Victor Watson, a distinguished double bassist, languished in obscurity until its rediscovery in 2005. The modern premiere of this lyrical soliloquy unfolded as a resurrection, breathing life into a composition that had remained hidden for 79 years.
As one of the rare early 20th-century British works for solo double bass, “Soliloquy” reveals O’Neill’s melodic prowess. Its inclusion in the contemporary solo repertoire not only marks a revival but also underscores the delicate artistry with which O’Neill navigates the double bass’s full range. The piece unfolds as a testament to the composer’s ability to weave rhapsodic beauty, infusing wistful qualities and Delius-inspired harmonies.
The modern premiere in 2005 was not just a performance; it was a revelation, an unveiling of forgotten elegance. “Soliloquy” now stands proudly, a beacon of O’Neill’s enduring contribution to music, reminding us that even in the shadows of neglect, true artistry retains its brilliance. This forgotten gem, now resuscitated, invites contemporary audiences to appreciate the elegance of O’Neill’s musical tapestry, ensuring that his legacy, though briefly obscured, continues to resonate in the hearts of those who seek the beauty of forgotten melodies.
