This project poses the question: is it

possible to compare and contrast the

complex compositional techniques

employed by Benjamin Britten in three of

his operatic works? In answering this

question, I utilise works spread over a

period of time to demonstrate the

development of Britten’s techniques.

Comparing the
Contrasting
Compositional
Complexities of
Britten’s Operas
Submitted as partial fulfilment of the
requirements for the degree of Master
of Research in Humanities (Music) in
September 2014

Samuel Peter Winter

Supervised by Dr. Alastair Williams
Contents

Acknowledgements 2

INTRODUCTION ...................................................................................................................... 3

CHAPTER ONE: LITERATURE REVIEW.............................................................................. 8

Literature Addressing Benjamin Britten 8
Literature Addressing Britten’s Operas 11
Literature Addressing English Opera 20

CHAPTER TWO: DEFENDING GRIMES ............................................................................. 23

CHAPTER THREE: COMFORTING MILES......................................................................... 39

CHAPTER FOUR: COMMITTING ASCHENBACH ............................................................ 55

CONCLUSIONS ...................................................................................................................... 72

DISCOVERY ........................................................................................................................... 79
Appendices 79
List of Figures 82
Bibliography 83

1
Acknowledgements

This Master of Research degree has been a fantastic journey through the twists and turns of

not only research, but also through exploring Benjamin Britten’s life and career. This particular piece

of research (and indeed, many others culminating in this final piece) would not have been possible

without the help of some extraordinary people, to whom I am extremely grateful.

Without the support of friends and family over the past five years, this project is unlikely to

have come to fruition. It would be impossible to name them all, and improper to do so. But I would

like to highlight the support of my close friends, for their constant encouragement with my work,

allowing me to let off steam regarding the frustrations of research. Along with my friends, my mother

has helped in more ways than one. Over the past two years, we have been studying in tandem, having

both concluded our studies in one way, we now continue in another.

Finally, my thanks (as ever) go to my partner A, for everything.

2
Introduction

I’d already been training the Festival Chorus and mind you, don’t judge it by

today’s Festival Chorus because in those early days they weren’t very

professional singers bless their hearts. I shall never forget when Ben conducted

them for a recording of St Nicholas in our parish church and it happened that the

most powerful of our basses in the choir brought the wrong pair of spectacles with

him, and he took so long turning a page at one of the climaxes that Ben had to put

in a rallentando for him. Of course, Ben did it superbly so that nobody would

have guessed but it was characteristic of Ben that he said “now that’ll give the

musicologists of the next century something to talk about!”1

I wonder if Britten ever understood the importance of his statement in Imogen Holst’s

recollections and what the implications might be when he said: “that’ll give the

musicologists… something to talk about!”? On one level, it seems confident that someone

would one day examine his life and music, but on other levels it is a little reserved suggesting

that he thought less of his music than some do now.

In my opinion, Britten need not have remarked over a mere rallentando, because his

music has so much more depth to it. Yes there are the lovely little sound bites that we all

recall instantly as quintessentially Britten, for example the prevailing melody of The Young

Person’s Guide to the Orchestra (1946). Employing Henry Purcell’s Rondeau theme from

Abdelazer (1695) for this particular piece of music.2 I find it a curious coincidence that

Britten considered Purcell’s music suitable and years later Britten himself is widely believed

to be the greatest English composer since Purcell.3 But aside from all of the lovely little

things, there are anomalies in his music which point to a more complex composer.

1
Holst, I., (Transcrib. Winter, S. P.) ‘The Aldeburgh Festival – beginnings’, in Palmer, T., ‘Benjamin Britten: A
Time There Was’, (United Kingdom: Isolde Films, London Weekend Television (LWT), 1979) 1:01:12
2
McN., ‘London Concerts’, The Musical Times, 88/1248 (Feb. 1947) p. 70
3
Whittall, A., ‘The Chamber Operas’, in Cooke, M. (Ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Benjamin Britten,
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) p. 96

3
 This project aims to answer the question: is it possible to track differing compositional

methods in Britten’s music? Furthermore, are there any identified methods found in any other

of the works considered in this essay? To explore this, I will examine three of Britten’s

operatic works, namely: Peter Grimes (1945), The Turn of the Screw (1954), and Death in

Venice (1973). As a comparison study, I hope to show how Britten’s dedication to

composition enabled him to convey the literary drama which inspired each case.

Furthermore, I hope to show how Britten’s experimentation with different compositional

techniques enabled him to successfully convey each of these texts to his audiences,

irrespective of the developments he made as a composer over the 28 years between these three

operas. For example, as I will show in chapters 2, 3, and 4, each of the operatic works

considered uses different compositional methods, from the symphonic writing of Peter

Grimes, to the serialism of Death in Venice. Whilst each of the operas considered in this

work contain differing compositional techniques, they also share similarities which I hope to

expose, for example, the serial connections between The Turn of the Screw, and Death in

Venice.

As Leonard Bernstein comments, he saw ‘a man at odds with the world in many ways’

through the composer’s music.4 In examining Interlude I, for example, in Britten’s opera

Peter Grimes, the audience is wrapped up in a familiar texture of lower strings and brass,

however the prevailing but altogether uncomfortable timbre is of piercingly high pitched

violins. It is not until Act I, Scene I of the opera when the cast start wishing each other a

‘good morning’ that the audience can begin to feel comfortable with their surroundings. 5 It

suggests that The Borough is not perhaps the murky backward place the audience might

expect from the musical cues put in our minds by the interlude.

A similar complexity (an almost reticence) can be seen in Britten’s later works, for

example in The Turn of the Screw, and Death in Venice to a greater extent. Considering the

4
Bernstein, L, (Transcrib. Winter, S. P.) ‘Leonard Bernstein & Cousin Elsie’, in Palmer, T., ‘Benjamin Britten:
A Time There Was’, (United Kingdom: Isolde Films, London Weekend Television (LWT), 1979) 0:00:01
5
Britten, B., Peter Grimes Opus 33 (Full Score), (London: Boosey & Hawkes, 1963) pp. 53-6

4
conclusion of Act I in Death in Venice (Britten’s last operatic work before his own death in

1976) Gustav von Aschenbach finally admits to himself that he loves the boy. Britten builds

up the tension by sending the orchestra into a frenzy (metaphorically), culminating on the

precipice of a cliff eventually pushing Aschenbach over the edge to declare that he loves the

boy. Yet Britten restrains Aschenbach. Britten pushes him over the edge into thin air, but

then saves him mid declaration. Whilst the ‘I’ is prolonged and pronounced, the crux of the

statement (‘love you’) is contrastingly reserved. Metaphorically, Aschenbach throws open the

windows of his Venice hotel room to declare his love for the boy to the city but realises his

actions are socially improper, and thus recedes to the safety of his quarters to conclude his

confession.

This revision of thought teases the audience: Britten encourages them to think that this

is going to be a proud moment of declaration. But Britten seems to think that actually he is

better off leaving his homosexuality under the carpet. As Philip Brett explains in his

anthology of Britten essays, the composer’s sexuality was an ‘open secret’, which is further

qualified by Philip Rupprecht.6 Britten was not the only artist with an ‘open secret’ as

Bradley explains. The Turn of the Screw’s author (Henry James) also kept this secret as

Sheldon Novick records in his 1996 biography of James, saying the author’s ‘sexual

orientation has been ‘an open secret’ for at least a hundred years’. 7 Not only this, but as I

discuss in Chapter 1, Mann’s work has been called into question over homosexual tendencies.

A parallel can be drawn between Britten and Aschenbach: both men want to publically

suppress their sexualities (despite homosexuality being made legal before the première of this

particular work). Of course, the general public knew that Britten and Peter Pears were lovers,

however, ignored by most. Heather Hadlock explains that secrets regarding homo-erotic

desire amongst artists had been known since ‘the late nineteenth century’, so it is unlikely to

6
Brett, P., Music and Sexuality in Britten: Selected Essays, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006) p.
91, Rupprecht, P., ‘Introduction’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, (United States of America: Oxford
University Press, 2013) p. xxii
7
Bradley, J. R., ‘Henry James's Permanent Adolescence’ in Bradley, J. R. (Ed.), Henry James and Homo-Erotic
Desire, (Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan, 1999) pp. 50-1

5
have come as a shock to Britten audiences if they discovered this ‘taboo’. 8 Hadlock’s essay

touches on the stigmatism surrounding Britten’s operatic works, citing Britten as ‘the most

extreme operatic case… of opera in urban gay male subcultures’. 9

Britten’s operas often have sexual themes running through them, which appear to be

amplified to a greater extent in the later operas. For example, in the operas that I am

examining, we find that the sexual references are unpronounced in Peter Grimes, in The Turn

of the Screw they are emphasised a little, and finally in Death in Venice the audience is

invited to see the destructive relationship between the protagonist (Aschenbach) and a young

Polish boy (Tadzio).

The composer’s affection for and attraction to young boys is made plain by Brett. 10

This is often reflected in Britten’s operas, many of which involve children in the chorus, and

the operas explored in this essay are not exceptions to this. Despite his fondness for

adolescents, and his covert homosexuality, Britten (and James) were ‘constitutionally unable

to give a homosexual story a happy ending’.11 The composer is able to convey a lot of

emotion into the music and action, irrespective of whether it was personal or not.

Analyst Arnold Whittall muses that Stravinsky did ‘not shy away from…

representations of loss and regret, he shares fundamental aesthetic contexts with Schoenberg,

Berg, Janáček, Bartók, and Britten’. 12 This points to why Britten’s music contains so many

exciting qualities, which I hope to show in this essay. For example, Britten’s ability to

convey personal emotions about a geographical location through Peter Grimes, to subtly

weaving elements of two musical themes into each other to signify a bond between two

characters in The Turn of the Screw and Death in Venice. Not only this, but it also shows that

8
Hadlock, H., ‘Opera and Gender Studies’ in Till, N. (Ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Opera Studies,
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012) p. 263
9
Ibid.
10
Brett, P., ‘Britten’s Dream’ in Solie, R. A., (Ed.), Musicology and Difference: Gender and Sexuality in Music
Scholarship, (Berkeley, Los Angeles, & London: University of California Press, 1995) p. 266
11
Kildea, P., ‘On Ambiguity in Britten’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, (United States of America:
Oxford University Press, 2013) p. 16
12
Whittall, A., ‘Stravinsky in Context’ in Cross, J. (Ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Stravinsky, (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2003) p. 46

6
Britten did take some influence from other composers’ work. In addition to the points

previously mentioned, I shall briefly explore the musical connections that have been made

between Britten and other composers’ works, including that of Mahler.

Of the Britten repertoire, perhaps the most significant contribution is of operatic

music.13 Composing no less than 16 operas, chamber operas, and operettas, it is no wonder

that this is another widely held conception. As such, this makes an investigation into the

composer’s opera suitable, coupled with the recent influx of related publications marking the

celebrations of Britten’s centenary in November 2013.

13
Britten-Pears Foundation, ‘Operas: Britten stands as one of the greatest twentieth-century opera composers’,
(Aldeburgh: Britten-Pears Foundation, May 2014) accessed via
<http://www.brittenpears.org/page.php?pageid=466> on 20th May 2014

7
Chapter One: Literature Review

This literature review will address various forms of scholarly research aimed at

exploring different aspects of Britten’s life. It aims to disseminate established and more

recent research into the study of Britten and his career. As such, this review is split into

various subheadings in order that it might allow easier digestion of the material.

Literature Addressing Benjamin Britten

Benjamin Britten was born into the family of a dentist in Lowestoft, Suffolk, on

November 22nd 1913. As David Matthews observes, ‘few 20 th -century artists have remained

so closely in touch with their roots as Britten’. 14 In the first edition of Opera as Drama,

Joseph Kerman’s ends the penultimate paragraph of the book saying ‘a good talent was not

helped when Benjamin Britten’s admirers proclaimed him years ago as the authentic Mozart

of our age’.15 As the result of a later, revised edition, Kerman clarifies in the Preface that ‘the

final chapter has been cut, so as to omit inter alia… a gratuitous wisecrack about Benjamin

Britten’.16 Kerman’s comments are confusing. In the first edition, his comment might be

interpreted as saying that Britten’s talent for composition is good, however his admirers

likening him to Mozart has not helped him as it has damagingly enlarged his ego. Secondly,

it could mean that Kerman does not particularly rate Mozart, and therefore does not want

Britten to become like him. However the removal of the comment from the current edition

(1988) saying that it was a ‘wisecrack’ joke suggests that he was embarrassed by the remark.

Perhaps it means Kerman did not particularly rate Britten’s music much, but on reflection,

found more merit than he had previously awarded it.

Britten’s operas have attracted various academics and enthusiasts, resulting inevitably

in a vast number of publications regarding the composer’s music. Appropriately, these range

14
Matthews, D., Britten, (Haus Publishing Limited: London, 2003) p. 1
15
Kerman, J., Opera as Drama, (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1956) p. 269
16
Kerman, J., Opera as Drama: New and Revised Edition, (California: University of California Press, 1988) p. x

8
from the light reading material aimed at a wider general audience to more in-depth analyses of

the music for academics. Brett’s edited collection on Peter Grimes (which forms part of a

wider collection of volumes in the Cambridge Opera Handbook Series, each dedicated to a

composer’s works) discusses how Britten overcame the inhibitions relating to his sexuality. 17

Brett notes that whilst homosexuality was a label, the composer was keen to not have any of

his works treated in a similar way when he stresses that ‘there is… no reason to see all his

work as autobiographical’.18 Quite the contrary considering Britten used other authors’ work

(and indeed references other composers’ work) as inspiration for many of his librettos,

including the three I intend to discuss here. But despite this, questions have been raised

regarding the perception of acts of homosexuality and paedophilia in Britten’s operas,

particularly since the recent Jimmy Savile case. Martin Kettle disputes the claims of

similarity between Britten and Savile, by suggesting that the relationship between each of the

men and children was of a completely different nature. 19 Brett continues his essay in an

attempt to quash these preconceptions by identifying Britten’s desire for his works to be seen

as a ‘struggle of the individual against the masses’ as cited in Time. However Brett fails to

take into account the following sentence in the magazine which identifies Grimes’ struggle

with the ‘fury’ of The Borough’s residents. He would rather be integrated amongst the

community than be the victim of marginalisation in the way that he is.20

In his chapter addressing the ambiguities in Britten’s music, Paul Kildea suggests that

through all of his composition, Britten was replicating the lessons of his composition tutor,

Frank Bridge, rather than developing his own style.21 Kildea is not suggesting that Britten

followed Bridge’s rules on composition, but rather that he injects an element of his

personality into the music making it personal. Moreover, this dedication to his music results
17
Brett, P., ‘Postscript’ in Brett, P. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten: Peter Grimes, (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1983) pp. 190-193
18
Brett, P., ‘Postscript’ p. 191
19
Kettle, M., ‘Why We Must Talk About Britten’s Boys’ The Guardian (London: The Guardian, 21 st November
2012) accessed via < http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2012/nov/21/britten-boys-obsession-cannot-
ignore> on 6th September 2014
20
Unknown, ‘Opera’s New Face’, Time, 51/7 (16th Feb. 1948) pp. 64-9
21
Kildea, P., ‘On Ambiguity in Britten’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, p. 5

9
in repertoire which is more regularly identifiable as music composed by Britten. Obviously

this makes it prime material for analysis, to attempt to isolate the characteristics of Britten’s

music which make them so iconic.

Kildea’s chapter accompanies many others which provide interesting ideas to Britten’s

music and the connections that can be drawn from it to his personal life. The arguments

contained within these texts often draw upon Britten’s relationships between his music and

sexuality. It is no secret that Britten was gay during a period when homosexuality was illegal

in the United Kingdom. Many authors have attempted to identify hidden references to the

composer’s love life with Pears. For example, Kildea uses Britten’s Seven Sonnets of

Michelangelo (1940) to demonstrate this by observing ‘“sempre pp”: [as code for] always

Peter Pears’.22 Furthermore, Allen’s chapter in the same collection discusses Britten using

rhythm in his Violin Concerto to spell out Pears’ name. 23 Whilst all of this speculation could

well be true, it has to be remembered that hard evidence to support this is in short supply.

Due to the lack of evidence, a lot of the arguments are speculative and unsubstantiated.

The personal relationship between Britten and Pears is well documented through their

letters which can be read in the six volume collection (Letters from a Life) edited by Donald

Mitchell and Philip Reed after their extensive trawling of the Britten-Pears Foundation

Archive. They show a soft tenderness between each other, often using names of affection

(such as ‘honey’).24 However in terms of displaying their love for each other in public, little

else exists.

22
Kildea, P., ‘On Ambiguity in Britten’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, p. 5
23
Allen, S. A., ‘“Oh Hurry to the Fêted Spot of Your Deliberate Fall”: Death in Britten, 1936-1940’ in
Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, (United States of America: Oxford University Press, 2013) p. 28
24
Britten, B., Letter 489 to Peter Pears, in Mitchell, D., (Ed.) & Reed, P., (Ed.), Letters from A Life: Volume
Two 1939-45 (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1991) p. 1235

10
Literature Addressing Britten’s Operas

Britten’s operas (notably Peter Grimes and The Rape of Lucretia [1948]) have

prompted discussion around the use of the minor third interval.25 The concept was first

suggested by Brett who opened his chapter on Britten in Solie’s book by recounting a

conversation he had recently had with a ‘prominent lesbian feminist’ on how a minor third

could be construed as sounding gay.26 Whilst Brett’s chapter fails to get to the crux of why a

minor third might signify homosexuality, Allen’s engages in a significantly detailed study of

the interval. Not only this, but his chapter attempts to identify the significance of tonal

centres in Britten’s operatic works, noting that a substantial contributing factor to Britten’s

choice of key is the limitations placed upon him by using the treble voices of children (both

boys and girls) in his work. Allen’s publication (and by extension, Brett’s essay) is

recognised in Lucas Crawford’s recently published paper which builds on Allen’s essay.

Whilst Crawford is not a musicologist, his paper examines the sociological themes that

underpin Britten’s operas which involve children. 27 Crawford’s paper tackles the tough social

questions that a lot of musicologists attempt to avoid, highlighted by the very fact that his title

begins with the suggestion of child cruelty. Despite his lack of musical knowledge, Crawford

uses popular musicological research to identify points in Britten’s operas which are of

significance. This is a significant paper because of the issues that Crawford addresses,

mentioning other works which are written in a similar vein, for example John Bridcut’s

Britten’s Children which documents the relationship Britten had with adolescent boys.

As Whittall asserts, Peter Grimes is a ‘grand opera after the model of Verdi, Puccini,

Berg, and Gershwin’.28 However, Britten did not seek to merely mimic these important

composers who had created such a rich repository of opera. Continuing with his desire to

25
Allen, S. A., ‘Britten and the World of the Child’ in Cooke, M., (Ed.) The Cambridge Companion to Benjamin
Britten, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) p. 280
26
Brett, P., ‘Britten’s Dream’ in Solie, R. A., (Ed.), Musicology and Difference, p. 259
27
Crawford, L., ‘“A Child is Being Beaten”: Peter Pan, Peter Grimes, and a Queer Case of Modernism’ English
Studies in Canada, 39/4 (Dec. 2013) pp. 33-54
28
Whittall, A., ‘The Chamber Operas’, in Cooke, M. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten, p. 95

11
improve the quality of British opera from its ‘sloppy’ standards, Britten entered the world of

chamber opera with The Rape of Lucretia.29 The chamber operas allowed Britten the

opportunity to take opera to the masses, as they are works that are small enough to be taken

from town to town, with a small ensemble of singers and instrumentalists. An ulterior motive

was to escape from the bureaucracy of the production company’s internal politics surrounding

large scale performances such as that of Peter Grimes.30 This was because a smaller

performance would require fewer people to organise such an event, meaning that there were

fewer conflicting opinions and decisions. Whilst Britten’s aspiration to improve the standard

of British music was strong, this was not necessarily the reason for composing the chamber

works. As Whittall reminds us, Britten was not the first to embark on such projects

(remembering Holst’s Sāvitri (1916), and Stravinsky’s Renard (1922), and The Soldier’s Tale

(1918)).31 For not just this reason, I will contrast Peter Grimes and Death in Venice against

The Turn of the Screw to identify similarities between the scales of the two opera formats.

It is well documented that taking inspiration from the orient was very popular at the

turn of the twentieth century. This is evident in composers such as Ravel, Stravinsky, and,

particularly, Debussy (who took a great interest in the Gamelan orchestras at the 1889 Paris

Exposition Universelle).32 It therefore stands to reason that Britten also took an interest in the

musical possibilities to be explored in The Far East. Taking a ‘five month concert tour’ in

November 1955, Britten and Pears travelled to Austria, Yugoslavia, Turkey, Singapore,

Indonesia, Hong Kong, Japan, Thailand and Sri Lanka. 33 As Mervyn Cooke writes in his

opening paragraph, Britten was keen to ‘pursue the strong interest in oriental music [which]

he had originally gained… [from] Canadian composer and ethnomusicologist Colin

McPhee’.34

29
Kildea, P., ‘On Ambiguity in Britten’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, p. 3
30
Carpenter, H., Benjamin Britten: A Biography, (London: Faber & Faber, 1992) p. 225
31
Whittall, A., ‘The Chamber Operas’, in Cooke, M. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten, p. 95
32
Cooke, M., Britten and the Far East, (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1998) p. 4
33
Ibid, p. 1
34
Ibid.

12
 Oja explains that Britten’s biographers have linked the composer’s first encounter

with Oriental music to that of McPhee’s Balinese Ceremonial Music when the two musicians

recorded the piece. McPhee had composed the music as a result of travelling to Bali, only

meeting Britten when he returned to New York. Oja asserts that Britten’s biographers cite

this collaboration with McPhee as his first encounter with this style of music, which may have

prompted Britten and Pears’ later trip to The Far East.35

Being of an age of prolific letter writing, it is unsurprising that Britten wrote to his

sister (Beth Welford) discussing his time in New York. One specific letter dated May 12th

1941 documents the first occurrence of McPhee’s name in Britten’s letters.36 The editors of

Letters from a Life have expanded on the relationship between Britten and McPhee, to the

extent that it seems they believe Britten’s fascination with Oriental music did not come to

fruition straight away. Rather, they suggest that it took him some time to adjust to it before

committing himself to the music, a view also upheld by Mitchell.37

Brett recognises this, but also suggests that there may have been a further advocate for

Balinese music in Francis Poulenc. Britten and Poulenc were good friends, indeed there is

correspondence between the two composers, particularly around the time that Britten arranged

Poulenc’s opéra-bouffe, Les Mamelles de Tiresias (1947) for two pianos to enable its UK

première at the 1956 Aldeburgh Festival. Brett asserts that Poulenc’s Concerto for Two

Pianos in D Minor (1932) contains ‘a passage at the end of the first movement’ which

resembles McPhee’s gamelan music. Moreover, Brett identifies a passage at the end of Les

Mamelles which has similarities to the Gamelan.38

35
Oja, C. J., Colin McPhee: Composer in two Worlds, (Washington & London: Smithsonian Institution Press,
1990) pp. 154-5
36
Britten, B., Letter 312 to Beth Welford, in Mitchell, D., (Ed.) & Reed, P., (Ed.), Letters from A Life: Volume
Two 1939-45 (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1991) pp. 918-28
37
Mitchell, D., ‘What do we Know about Britten Now?’ in Palmer, C. (Ed.), The Britten Companion, (London:
Faber and Faber Limited, 1984) p. 40
38
Brett, P., ‘Eros and Orientalism in Britten’s Operas’ in Brett, P., (Ed.), Wood, E., (Ed.), & Thomas, G. C.,
(Ed.), Queering the Pitch: The New Gay and Lesbian Musicology, (New York & London: Routledge, 1994) pp.
238-9

13
 All three of the works considered in this essay take existing sources of text as

inspiration as a basis to form the libretto for Britten’s works: George Crabbe (The Borough

[for Peter Grimes]), James (The Turn of the Screw), and Thomas Mann (Death in Venice).

Literature Addressing Peter Grimes

Britten’s first major opera Peter Grimes (prior to this, Britten composed an operetta:

Paul Bunyan (1941), an often overlooked fact) has inevitably attracted a lot of literary

comment since its première on June 7th 1945.39 Due to its success, Peter Grimes often has

whole chapters devoted to its discussion in books compared to the chamber operas (including

The Rape of Lucretia, Albert Herring, and The Turn of the Screw) for instance which feature

as collective examples.40 As Eric Walter White informs us, Peter Grimes was conceived after

Britten was commissioned by the Koussevitzky Music Foundation to compose an opera. 41

Whilst living in America as a conscientious objector, the composer discovered an anthology

of poetry by Rev’d George Crabbe published in 1810.42 Koussevitzky furnished Britten with

the commission of $1000 for Peter Grimes on 14th March 1942, after the two men had been in

conversation about Britten’s lack of operatic works in his repertoire. 43 Britten discussed with

Koussevitzky that the reason

such a dramatic composer had yet to write an opera… [was]… that planning such

a piece, collaborating with a librettist, making the composition sketch and writing

nearly a thousand pages of orchestral score demanded freedom from all other

work.44

It is quite obvious that the reason Britten had not yet ventured into writing opera was for these

reasons, but particularly the financial reasons. At the time of the conversation, Britten was
39
Cooke, M., ‘Chronology’ in Cooke, M., (Ed.) The Cambridge Companion to Benjamin Britten, (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999) p. xv
40
Whittall, A., ‘The Chamber Operas’, in Cooke, M. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten, p. 95
41
White, E. W., Benjamin Britten: His Life and Operas, (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1970), p. 100
42
Crabbe, G., The Borough, (London: J. M. Dent and Co., 1903) p. 331
43
Palmer, C., ‘Chronology’ in Palmer, C. (Ed.), The Britten Companion, (London: Faber and Faber Limited,
1984) p. 434
44
Kildea, P., Benjamin Britten: A Life in the Twentieth Century, (London: Allen Lane, 2013) p. 196

14
still quite young and not yet widely known as a composer. Whilst the sum of money offered

to him by the foundation was modest (approximately £250 according to currencies in 1942), it

was not enough to provide him with enough capital to focus solely on Peter Grimes.45

Brett recalls that whilst Britten was composing Hymn to St Cecilia (November 1942)

and A Ceremony of Carols (December 1942), Pears was ‘planning the original shape of the

Peter Grimes libretto’.46 The poem is made up of 24 letters which detail various aspects of a

place in East Anglia, specifically detailing various characters, or painting a picture of the

various local amenities, to how law and order is administered. 47

With such a rich collection of material, it is unsurprising that Britten’s devotion to the

score for this opera was so strong. White’s chapter regarding Peter Grimes closely maps the

relationship between Crabbe’s text and the action which ensues in the opera. It identifies

points in the opera where the libretto is similar to Crabbe’s work and points where it is not as

close. For example, White notes that ‘the main divergencies [sic] between the literary text

and the others are to be found in Peter’s monologues in the second scenes of Acts II and III’. 48

White’s analysis of the Peter Grimes libretto is informative, but also notes how Crabbe’s

work was intentionally altered to create complex characters. Pears confirmed this in a BBC

Radio 3 discussion broadcast on August 7th 1974: ‘operatic Peter Grimes moved away from

unrelieved villainy to a more interesting and complicated character - a frustrated person with

imagination enough to aspire to a better condition’. 49 This interview with Pears shows that

those who were working on the opera wanted to show the inner emotions of the characters

portrayed through Crabbe’s poetry on a deeper level.

45
Financial data taken from: Kildea, P., Benjamin Britten, p. 196
46
Pears, P., ‘Birth of an Opera: Peter Grimes’ (BBC Radio programme, transcribed by Brett, P., in ‘‘Fiery
visions’ (and revisions): ‘Peter Grimes’ in Progress’ in Brett, P. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten: Peter Grimes,
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983) p. 47)
47
Crabbe, G., The Borough, pp. ix-x
48
White, E. W., Benjamin Britten, p. 107
49
Pears, P., ‘On Playing Peter Grimes’ in Palmer, C. (Ed.), The Britten Companion, (London: Faber and Faber
Limited, 1984) p. 105 (edited from a talk in the series Characters from Opera first broadcast by BBC Radio 3 on
7th August 1974)

15
 Many of the letters contained in the second volume of Letters from a Life (not only

addressed to Pears) at least mention if not discuss Peter Grimes at length. They show

Britten’s concern for this opera, and rightly so considering that not only was it his first full

length stage work, but it also had serious financial backing by The Koussevitzky Music

Foundation.50 Britten’s concern and worry is important as it shows his devotion to the work.

The importance of the funding was probably also greater as his reputation as a composer was

at stake. If he deliver a successful opera, then his name association with the foundation is

likely to have had good business implications for both parties involved.

Literature Addressing The Turn of the Screw

Britten’s chamber opera The Turn of the Screw took its inspiration from the James’

1891 novella of the same title. One of the shocking natures of The Turn of the Screw is its

controversial subject matter. Some may go so far to view it as paedophilic, considering the

references to sexual activities between Miles and Quint. Clifford Hindley’s reading of

Myfanwy Piper’s libretto suggests that there are two story lines that could be discerned. 51

Hindley notes that several ‘interpretations’ of James’ novella exist, referred to as the ‘first

[and] second story’. Whilst he does not discuss the success of Britten and Piper’s intention

‘[not] to interpret the work, only re-create it for a different medium’, Hindley discusses the

possibility of the portrayal of the two stories through the opera.52 He hypothesises that of the

two stories discussed in the edited collection by Patricia Howard, the first story prevails more

from the interaction of the living characters with ghosts. 53 Hindley’s paper appears to suggest

that The Turn of the Screw does not seek to portray Miles as being inherently evil but that it is

merely a side effect of the interactions between Miles and Quint.

50
Of course, Britten had composed the operetta Paul Bunyan whilst still in the USA
51
Hindley, C., ‘Why Does Miles Die? A Study of Britten’s The Turn of the Screw’, Musical Quarterly, 74/1
(1990), pp. 1-2
52
Piper, M., ‘Writing for Britten’, in Herbert, D. (Ed.), The Operas of Benjamin Britten, (London: Hamish
Hamilton, 1979) p. 11
53
Howard, P. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten: The Turn of the Screw, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985)

16
 Hindley builds on Christopher Palmer’s argument in the volume dedicated to The Turn

of the Screw in the Cambridge Opera Handbook series. He suggests that ‘the music

demonstrates Quint’s wickedness’ by preying on the innocence of Miles and how

impressionable he is.54 Hindley draws on theories of agency and narrative to show how

Britten’s portrayal of the boy through instrumentation supports this argument. Moreover, he

notes how Britten avoided the use of the augmented 4 th (tritone) chord, commonly associated

with The Devil and evil, yet employs it in his War Requiem (1961).55

Hindley continues his close reading of the opera to suggest that there are two forms of

education offered to Miles: firstly the ‘safe, orthodox way, grounded in the discipline of Latin

grammar’, and secondly ‘conventional morality’. 56 He views these forms of education as

metaphors for the relationships that Miles (and by extension, his sister Flora) has with the

adults in the opera.

As Valentine Cunningham notes in The Guardian, not many academics have

considered the Latin language used in The Turn of the Screw.57 Whilst Hindley does not

specifically address the main content of Latin in Act I, Scene VI, he does consider the use of

the word ‘malo’. He enters into a discourse discussing how Miles’ use of the word (translated

in this context as ‘naughty boy’) is indicative of the power struggle between The Governess

and Quint over the boy.58 Despite Cunningham’s observations in January 2002 that he finds it

‘startling… that these passages have never been properly decrypted in the… Screw’s history’,

academics (both linguists and musicologists) appear not to have picked up on this as a

potential avenue for discussion.59 It is for this reason that I shall be engaging in a critical

54
Hindley, C., ‘Why Does Miles Die?’, pp. 3-4
55
Various, ‘Why is the Augmented 4th the "chord of evil" that was banned in Renaissance church music?’ in
Yesteryear, The Guardian (London: The Guardian, 2011) accessed via
<http://www.theguardian.com/notesandqueries/query/0,,-1767,00.html> on 10th September 2014
56
Hindley, C., ‘Why Does Miles Die?’, p. 12
57
Cunningham, V., ‘Filthy Britten 'O arsehole, scrotum, penis, bless ye the Lord.' Valentine Cunningham reveals
what the Latin bits in The Turn of the Screw really mean’ The Guardian, (London: The Guardian, 5 th January
2002) accessed via <http://www.theguardian.com/education/2002/jan/05/arts.highereducation> on 23 rd May
2014
58
Hindley, C., ‘Why Does Miles Die?’, p. 13-14
59
Cunningham, V., ‘Filthy Britten’

17
discussion of the libretto in this particular scene, showing links to other scenes in The Turn of

the Screw and Peter Grimes.

Considering that I hope to find references to Britten’s sexuality in The Turn of the

Screw, I turn to Caroline Harvey’s essay in which she briefly mentions that ‘homosexual

desire was… explored more fully by Britten’.60 Her brief sentence covering the topic does

not give much confidence in finding many references, however on the flipside, her brief

statement feels like she has not given much time to studying any of Britten’s works in much

detail. She does not give the impression that she has considered the libretto for The Turn of

the Screw in as much detail as I go into in Chapter Three. However, Kildea notes that ‘as

adults, Britten and James were both attracted to young boys’. 61 Kildea’s claims about James

come from John Bradley’s edited collection which explores the thoughts of Jamesian scholars

as they critique James’ work, and letters in the hope that they might find evidence which

points to homosexual tendencies.62

Peter Evans explores Britten’s music in his similarly titled book. In the chapter

addressing The Turn of the Screw, Evans discusses Miles’ ‘malo’ theme and how it represents

a ‘boy’s simultaneous attraction towards and yearning to resist evil.’ 63 This is seen more

closely when we consider that the ‘malo’ theme is adopted by Miles for the majority of the

opera, until the conclusion after his death whereby The Governess realises the significance of

the word as Britten assigns her the theme.

Literature Addressing Death in Venice

Britten’s final opera in his repertoire for the stage sees the adaptation of a short story

of the same title by Thomas Mann. Death in Venice has been adapted not only for the stage

by Britten, but also for the screen in a film directed by Luchino Visconti and staring Dirk

60
Harvey, C., ‘Words and Actions’ in Cooke, M. (Ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Twentieth-Century
Opera, (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 50
61
Kildea, P., ‘On Ambiguity in Britten’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, p. 16
62
Bradley, J. R. (Ed.), Henry James and Homo-Erotic Desire, (Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan, 1999)
63
Evans, P., The Music of Benjamin Britten, (London: J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd., 1979) p. 205

18
Bogarde released in 1971. Whilst the film is good, it is unlikely that it will ever feature in

mainstream popular film libraries. The action is quite dry, and a script virtually non-existent.

As such, Mahler’s Fifth Symphony is used to fill some of the verbally sparse sections of the

script. Of course many films of a similar persuasion make use of a film score to retain the

audience’s interest, however finding the name of a composer who is normally associated with

orchestral music is unusual.64 As Renaud Machart discusses, Britten was aware of Visconti’s

production due to legal issues surrounding the composer adapting Mann’s work, however,

Britten never saw the film.65 It is interesting to note that analysts and critics regularly find

similarities between Britten’s music and that of Mahler, as demonstrated by the edited

collection by Reed, specifically aimed at the music of these two composers. 66

In a similar vain to White’s comparisons between Crabbe’s and Britten’s Peter

Grimes, Edward Said makes similar contrasts between Mann’s text and Britten’s musical

adaptation.67 He (along with other critics, Patrick Dillon, for example) notes that Mann’s

novella is written in the third person, which presented a problem for Britten, but even more so

for Myfanwy Piper. Dillon criticises her efforts, and cites them as a reason for his dislike of

the opera, blaming Piper and having sympathy for Britten. 68 These critics’ comments appear

to be harsh, especially when Piper defends her decisions in her essay addressing the subject to

which Said refers.69 Piper refers to the creative decisions that were taken about how the story

should be portrayed through on-stage acting. She recalls that the novella is written in the

third person using a narrator. Piper observes that literary scholars have determined that Mann

64
Matthew-Walker, R., ‘‘Death in Venice’: (2) What it Means to me’, Musical Opinion, 136/1493 (Mar./Apr.
2013) pp. 10-11
65
Machart, R., ‘“La Mort à Venise” de Britten, une beauté terrible: Injustement éclipsé par le film de Visconti,
l'utime opéra du compositeur britannique est présenté à Barcelone’ (‘“Death in Venice” by Britten, a terrible
beauty: Unjustly overshadowed by the Visconti film, the ultimate opera by British composer is presented in
Barcelona.’ (Trans. Winter, S. P.)), Le Monde, 5/23 (2008) p. 23
66
Reed, P. (Ed.), On Mahler and Britten: Essays in Honour of Donald Mitchell on his Seventieth Birthday ,
(Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1995)
67
Said, E. W., ‘Not All the Way to the Tigers: Britten’s Death in Venice’ in Reed, P. (Ed.), On Mahler and
Britten: Essays in Honour of Donald Mitchell on his Seventieth Birthday , (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press,
1995) pp. 267-74
68
Dillon, P., ‘Death in Venice’, Opera News, 78/6 (Dec. 2013) p.73-4
69
Piper, M., ‘The Libretto’ in Mitchell, D. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten: Death in Venice, (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1987) p. 48

19
transcribed his own homosexual feelings into his story.70 It is therefore transformed from

being a seedy book into being an outlet for a pained individual who is struggling to come to

terms with his sexual identity as his wife admits in her biography.71

Literature Addressing English Opera

In his sub-chapter National Operas in Comparison, Philipp Ther addresses how

mainly Germanic opera dominates the world-wide operatic stage.72 He notes that nineteenth-

century German opera had found its way onto the stages of most opera houses, and is

irrefutably accepted as being part of the canon in places such as Czechoslovakia, the United

Kingdom, Italy, and the United States of America. Concluding this section, he notes that

whilst Germanic opera is openly accepted, it is not exclusive. Ther asserts that despite some

countries missing out on entering any nineteenth-century opera into the accepted canon,

Britten made way for his own material in the twentieth. Ther hypotheses that this only

happened because ‘the opera market was not yet dominated by a traditional canon as it was in

Italy and Germany’.73 In other words, whilst the English were happy to listen to European

opera, there was always room for something ‘home-grown’, so to speak.

2012 Jerome Roche prize winner Christopher Chowrimootoo uses his paper to address

Britten’s contribution to opera on a world-wide stage.74 He addresses the differences among

the critics’ reception of Death in Venice in 1973, showing how they argued about the sexual

subtleties in Britten’s final opera, but also how it was likely to affect opera’s legacy in the

future. He moves on to analyse various parts of the opera, notably contrasting the beginning

and end, but also examining the end of Act I where Aschenbach declares his love for Tadzio.

70
Mann was married and had a family at the time of writing Death in Venice.
71
Mann, K., Katia Mann: Unwritten Memories, (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1975) p. 60-3
72
Ther, P., ‘The Genre of National Opera in a European Comparative Perspective’ in Fulcher, J. (Ed .), The
Oxford Handbook of The New Cultural History of Music (Paperback edition), (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2014) pp. 190-8
73
Ibid., p. 198
74
Chowrimootoo, C., ‘Bourgeois opera: Death in Venice and the aesthetics of sublimation’ Cambridge Opera
Journal, 22/2 (Jul. 2010) pp. 175-216

20
Chowrimootoo’s essay succeeds at identifying why there might have been such a rift between

the critics after the first performance of Death in Venice. He suggests that it was not the

intention of the opera to cause such a divide but to facilitate the bridging of the rift, thus

supporting opera to prevent the art form from becoming a ‘museum’ artefact as Richard

Taruskin suggests.75 Moreover, Chowrimootoo is attempting to help repair the bridge

between the divided critics ‘to encourage a more frank and nuanced discussion of the

aesthetic values, tensions and prejudices that shaped it’ which I hope to do also.76

Chowrimootoo’s paper suggests that Death in Venice was the medication administered

to save the ‘terminal illness with which opera had been diagnosed in the middle third of the

twentieth century’.77 Moreover, the author identifies that this particular work can be used as a

measure as to how opera was saved, by examining audience reaction to Britten’s work.

Regrettably, Chowrimootoo does not engage with such a study which specifically analyses

the reception of the work on an audience level, instead he engages with the views of critics

and academics. Further on in the work, Chowrimootoo notes that Death in Venice represents

a shift in Britten’s instrumentation by way of employing a larger orchestra, rather than the

skeleton ensemble used in some of his middle operas, notably, ‘The Church Parables’.78

When considering English opera (particularly that of the twentieth century) at first

glance, the choice of repertoire appears to be somewhat narrow. Unsurprisingly, Christopher

Mark opens his chapter dealing with this topic by discussing a letter written by Britten to his

librettist to be, Holst. However, Mark quickly launches into a list of British composers who

have composed operatic works in the past 114 years. He name drops composers including

Birtwistle, Delius, Holst, Maxwell Davies, Stanford, Tippett, and Vaughan Williams amongst

75
Taruskin, R., The Oxford History of Western Music: Volume 5, The Late Twentieth Century , (New York:
Oxford University Press, 2005) p. 224
76
Chowrimootoo, C., ‘Bourgeois opera’ Cambridge Opera Journal, 22/2, pp. 214-15
77
Ibid., p. 180
78
Ibid., p. 183 The church parables relate to the three short operas composed by Britten with the intention that
they should be performed in a church. The three works take inspiration from both Christian biblical teaching,
and stories Britten and Pears encountered on their five month expedition to The Far East, a trip which famously
also influences the music used in these works.

21
others.79 Despite this, Mark is quick to assert that Britten’s Peter Grimes is viewed as the be-

all and end-all of British operatic composition, the result that all of these composers are

searching for. He accuses them of all being too concerned about the vulnerability of spending

a large proportion of time on a mammoth work for it to receive one or two performances and

then be forgotten. It is important to remember that Peter Grimes was scheduled to continue

for a week after its première, however due to the fears of the performance’s promoters, the

following showings of the opera were cancelled. Nevertheless, it is still remembered and seen

as the pinnacle of twentieth-century British opera in some connoisseurs’ eyes. As Tippett

fondly recalls in his memoir when discussing their future ambitions, ‘Ben said he would

become… an opera composer’. Tippett goes on to extol this remark, because ‘from Peter
80
Grimes to Death in Venice, that [is where] his achievement is founded’. So despite Mark’s

comments about composers being too afraid of composing opera for fear of failure, perhaps

they are scared of not being able to do justice to the art form to the same extent with which

they consider Britten did.

79
Mark, C., ‘Opera in England: taking the plunge’ in Cooke, M., (Ed.), The Cambridge Companion to
Twentieth-Century Opera, (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 209
80
Tippett, M., Those Twentieth Century Blues: An Autobiography, (London: Pimlico, 1991) p. 213

22
Chapter Two: Defending Grimes
This chapter considers Peter Grimes, and how the symphonic writing for the orchestra is used

to translate Britten’s emotive feelings for a geographical location, coupled with the descriptive

imagery of Crabbe’s poetry into music. I will provide a detailed analysis of the first interlude used in

the opera to show this portrayal in action. After listening to the opera, Poulenc wrote to Britten saying

that ‘from your window, I ‘saw’ Peter Grimes’. 81

Of all the operatic work that Britten composed, Peter Grimes is perhaps considered to

be the most landmark of his repertoire. Such a statement cannot be justified without any

evidence; one only has to turn to the numerous publications (books and periodicals) to find a

wealth of authors who use Peter Grimes to emphasise their remarks on Britten. It is hard to

imagine that considering the large amount of scholarly work surrounding Peter Grimes that it

is anything less than appreciated, considering if the opera was not, then it would have been

likely forgotten by now.

Peter Grimes is used by authors to support numerous different cases. For example, a

range of work exists on the opera, covering aspects from the music, to the characterisation of

the protagonists, to how references of Britten’s composition are found in other works by not

only the composer, but also other composers from various musical/historical eras. Simply

looking at the index to The Cambridge Companion to Benjamin Britten where the reader will

find that the Peter Grimes entry has a long list of page numbers covering the length of the

book, shows that this work has been highly influential in the musings of academics

considering Britten.

It leads me to question what it is about this particular work that makes it such a

popular choice for comparing, contrasting, and considering this influential man, his work, and

the work of others. As previously mentioned for example, Britten is often referred to as being

81
Poulenc, F., Letter to Benjamin Britten dated 4th July 1956; Published in Reed, P., ‘Poulenc, Britten,
Aldeburgh’ in Buckland, S. (Ed.), & Chimènes, M. (Ed.), Francis Poulenc: Music, Art and Literature, (Hants:
Ashgate Publishing Limited, 1999) p. 355

23
the greatest British opera composer since Henry Purcell. Whilst Britten is fondly remembered

in this way, he is also noted for taking influence from Purcell for example by Whittall who

notes Britten’s ‘increasing engagement with Purcell’.82

I find that as with an increasing number of questions, the answer is not always as easy

to define; in fact, I find that there are likely to be two or three possible solutions. My first

solution to this conundrum is that a lot of authors have used Peter Grimes as a topic of

conversation because of the relevance that it played in British opera. At the time of its

conception, the work was being written and sketched as Britten and Pears were travelling

home from an extended stay in the United States as conscientious objectors.

Britten’s work had already gained some pre-war exposure in the press, mainly for the

songs that he had written, but also for Variations on a Theme by Frank Bridge (1937).83

However, Peter Grimes is Britten’s first piece of music which seems to have really inspired

the critics of the mid-twentieth century, not only because it was Britten’s first opera, but also

because of the work that Britten appears to have started to compose. It is as if the

commissioning of Peter Grimes enabled Britten to change tact with his style of composition,

giving him the confidence to start devoting his time more seriously to the art form in order to

address the standard of opera by British composers. 84

As Kildea writes, the critic Scott Goddard who wrote for the News Chronicle saw the

first production of Peter Grimes in 1945. Kildea labours the point that he would have had to

walk past Smithfield Market on the way back to his office to complete his report for the

morning paper, an area of London which had just been affected by ‘one of the last and most

devastating V2 attacks’.85 This reminds us that despite Britten and Pears being registered as

conscientious objectors to war, they still played their part by attempting to keep entertainment

live on-stage. Moreover, it shows the resilience on the home front that there was against the

82
Whittall, A., ‘The Chamber Operas’, in Cooke, M. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten, p. 96
83
Cooke, M., ‘Chronology’ in Cooke, M., (Ed.) Benjamin Britten, p. xiv
84
Kildea, P., ‘On Ambiguity in Britten’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, p. 3
85
Kildea, P., Benjamin Britten, p. 247

24
devastation. Significantly though, Kildea notes that despite Goddard’s previous interest and

enthusiasm for Britten’s talent, and indeed for Peter Grimes, he was sceptical about the

opera’s prospects.86

Goddard poses and answers a question in his article: ‘Will this new opera succeed?

The public is fickle, and on its unstable temperament all depends no matter how good the

work or how fine the performance’. 87 The tone that Goddard uses suggests that he has

nothing but admiration for the work, however there is an impossible situation that he finds

himself in, which is that whilst he can see the beauty of the work, he cannot convince a

London audience to see it in the same light. Goddard believes that the work is good, but as

Kildea mentions, outside Sadler’s Wells, bombs were still raining down on London, meaning

that the theatre (particularly opera) was probably reserved for the upper classes, which is

probably still true to an extent. Despite Goddard’s scepticism, the first performance was

received well according to Kildea, which led to more well-known pieces of opera being

performed for the rest of the season. As such, these performances topped the box office

charts, rather than Peter Grimes despite the popularity of the opera on its first performance.

The relative success of Peter Grimes is of interest, mainly because of the nature of the

opera’s subject matter. At the heart of the synopsis, we find a fisherman who is tormented not

only by his community but also by his thoughts. The opera opens in a court room with

Grimes in the dock, accused of not preventing the death of an apprentice. The opera being set

at a time when public executions were regarded as a form of entertainment, it is inevitable that

despite the outcome of the case, the residents of The Borough community consider him to be

guilty. Of course this makes Grimes an outcast, despite his pleas of innocence. Considering

this, we might expect an audience to take the side of The Borough, thus condemning Grimes,

especially as at the end of the opera, we find that the main protagonist is indirectly responsible

for yet another death of an apprentice. Grimes’ suicide at the end of the opera suggests that

86
Ibid., p. 248
87
Goddard, S., ‘It is an’, News Chronicle, (8th June 1945) p. 1256 as published in Kildea, P., Benjamin Britten,
p. 248

25
we ought to think of this story as a tragedy.88 However, is it more than just a tragedy of a

man accused of effectively bad luck (if you believe his story)? Hindley’s paper addresses the

questions arising from the storyline posed by the Grimes character that despite being a man

tortured by his own mind, he is also a representation of Britten struggling with finding a place

in a society where homosexuality is illegal.89 Connections between Grimes and Britten’s

sexuality are most commonly drawn upon when academics are engaging in research

surrounding Peter Grimes. Whilst it is inevitable that a composer’s personal sexual

preferences might come into question (particularly at a time when homosexuality was illegal),

I find that the amount of material devoted to the subject to be slightly overwhelming.

Personally, I would seek for these matters to be kept private. Britten was a reserved man

when it came to his relationship with Pears. It was a subject that was never discussed in

public, nor in interview, and maybe this is what influenced him to make so many homosexual

references in his work, but equally, would the same conclusions about an artist’s work be

reached if that artist was heterosexual? Which is a question Kettle approaches in his column

previously cited.90

Audiences adore this production, despite its concerning references to child abuse, but

why is this? I can see several possible contributing factors: the first being the admiration of

the music, the second being an emotional connection made between Grimes, Orford, and the

audience, the third patriotism for English opera, and finally the possibility that even though

capital and corporal punishment has long been removed from English law, as a society we

still have a fascination with crime and punishment. As Alan Bewell states in his paper,

Crabbe created the ‘sounds of the marshes to give voice to the dull reptilian soul of Peter

88
Hindley, C., ‘Homosexual Self-affirmat ion and Self-oppression in Two Britten Operas’ The Musical
Quarterly, 76/2 (Summer 1992) p. 143
89
As Hindley cites, this is a view also taken up by Brett: Brett, P., ‘Britten and Grimes’ in Brett, P. (Ed.),
Benjamin Britten: Peter Grimes, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983) pp. 180-189
90
Kettle, M., ‘Why We Must Talk About Britten’s Boys’ The Guardian (London: The Guardian, 21st November
2012) accessed via < http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2012/nov/21/britten -boys-obsession-cannot-
ignore> on 6th September 2014

26
Grimes’.91 He explores the connections between Peter Grimes and Crabbe’s The Borough

noting that Crabbe’s is far more pathetic whereas Britten’s Grimes is much more ‘Romantic, a

man tortured to madness by the conflict between his visionary dream of a new beginning and

the hypocritical morality of The Borough’. 92 Bewell’s thoughts on the differences between

the two Grimes begs the question of how this is achieved by the two creators. Crabbe has the

potential to paint a picture in the imagination of the reader, but can only suggest so much. He

cannot control the thoughts of his audience as it is left to their imagination, he can only

influence them by what he writes in his poetry. On the other hand, Britten arguably has much

more creative power with which to engage and manipulate/control his audience. Britten can

control the emotions of his audience through several mediums. Firstly (and predominantly)

Britten composes a sound track to accompany Crabbe’s setting. Secondly, Britten can (along

with the creative input from others such as designers and directors) show the audience an

emotion through each of his characters, for example: the love of a mother through Ellen

Orford, the almost schizophrenic nature that effects Grimes, and the reactions that Grimes’

mental health draws out of those around him.

Of course these emotions are easily achieved through the expressions shown on the

faces of the cast, however, I would suggest that Britten manages to create a sense of pain and

torture during the interlude passages where the stage is empty. Structurally Peter Grimes

starts with a prologue which gives the audience some background into the dynamic between

Grimes, and The Borough. The way that Britten has devised this is in a primary manner, in

other words, everything is spelt out for the audience to hear. Whilst the music leaves an

element of ambiguity, the libretto is clear in what it is doing, it is introducing us to the cast,

specifically. Shortly afterwards, Britten introduces us to the first of five interludes which

91
Bewell, A., ‘On the Margin of Sea and Society: Peter Grimes and Romantic Naturalism’ University of
Toronto Quarterly, 74/2 (Spring 2005) p. 642
92
Ibid., p. 643. Bewell uses ‘Romantic’ to suggest a stylistic era, rather than an amorous gesture.

27
intersperse scenes in the opera.93 Interlude I introduces us to where the opera is set, The

Borough.

Bewell’s paper opens by exploring the connections Britten and Crabbe shared with

East Anglia. He cites Forster’s discussion of The Borough and uses it to suggest that upon

hearing Forster’s arguments, Britten returned to Suffolk because he was missing it. 94

Moreover, despite living in Snape for a few years, Britten eventually settled in Aldeburgh,

Crabbe’s hometown. Bewell’s Essay hints that Britten’s interpretative opera has deep

connections with the location that it is set in. This is entirely possible, as Adam Krims points

out in his chapter in The Cultural Study of Music. Whilst Krims’ essay argues that the

relationship between social demographics and how music is influenced in populated areas, he

notes that scholars (for example Daniel Grimley) have mooted the concept of music being

able to describe a landscape. Grimley’s example explores how Grieg’s music is connected to

‘tension between the regressive aspects of his landscape… and the progressive harmonic

language that allies his music with pan-European expansions’.95 In a similar way to Grieg,

Britten engages with the opera’s setting (both in terms of place but also in the emotions that

are portrayed by the characters) so he can convey the emotions of both to the audience.

Examining Britten’s Four Sea Interludes, we can make a stronger connection as to the

story that they are trying to tell.96 Unlike that of the interludes used in the opera, each of the

four short movements in the Four Sea Interludes is given a title: Dawn, Sunday Morning,

Moonlight, and Storm. They are each indicative of the action that precedes and succeeds the

interlude. For example, Interlude I could be viewed to be describing the setting for the opera,

whereas the final movement might be seen as a reflection of the torment that Grimes is going

93
Four of the five interludes can be heard separately, and are often performed as an orchestra suite under the
title: Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes Opus 33a. The order in which they appear in the suite is altered to
that of the opera, instead of them being heard chronologically, the order is altered to: I, III, V, II.
94
Bewell, A., ‘On the Margin of Sea and Society: Peter Grimes and Romantic Naturalism’ University of
Toronto Quarterly, 74/2 (Spring 2005) p. 636
95
Krims, A., ‘Music, Space, and Place: The Geography of Music’ in Clayton, M. (Ed.), Herbert, T. (Ed.),
Middleton, R. (Ed.), The Cultural Study of Music: A Critical Introduction (Second Edition) , (Oxon: Routledge,
2012) p. 141
96
Britten, B., Four Sea Interludes from the opera ‘Peter Grimes’ Opus 33a , (London: Boosey & Hawkes, 1945)

28
through after the death of yet another apprentice, and the torment that he is likely to be the

victim of from the townspeople. These titles are commonly applied to the interludes in the

opera out of familiarity.

Despite this, Britten’s interludes are used within his opera as a significant

compositional device. They have practical uses, allowing for scene and costume changes

(should they be necessary) but also allow for the cast’s voices to relax a little, and for the

audience to have a break from hearing singing. Quite often they allow for the digestion of the

plot; the interlude can help reinforce this through repeating melodies and themes previously

heard in a not too dissimilar process to subliminal messaging. However, they also allow for

new material to be introduced, which is the case for Interlude I, it gradually builds up the

music heard in Act I, Scene I by effectively playing an extended introduction. This is

eventually realised when the chorus (playing townspeople) start singing, setting the scene of

The Borough. It is not until Rehearsal Figure (Henceforth R.F.) 14 that the music

dramatically changes to reflect the character of those who spend time in the local brothel, run

by the dubious character known as Auntie. Moreover, the interlude assists the audience in

realising the setting for this work. In the opening, the audience is introduced to a fishing

town’s courtroom. The nature of the townspeople (busy-bodies who have their own collective

agenda against Grimes) is set and the cast disperses for Interlude I. The final motive of the

interludes is realised by Alex Ross when referring to Interlude I, who says that it ‘brings the

coast to life. High grace notes mimic the cries of birds; rainbowlike arpeggios imitate the

play of light on the water; booming brass chords approximate the thudding of the waves.’ 97

Ross’ brief description of the music perfectly summarises Britten’s intention for these pieces

of chorally tacit music, they provide the narrative to the music in the same way an author sets

the scene in a novel. Finally, Interlude I’s solitary nature reminds us that the sea is a lonely

97
Ross, A., The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century, (London: Harper Perennial, 2009) p. 449

29
place, and that it claims lives, in doing so, the music reflects the deaths of both apprentices,

and Grimes.

In Interlude I, the audience have just been introduced to The Borough, a small fishing

town. Grimes has been accused of not preventing the death of his apprentice, and after

conviction (unfair conviction in the eyes of Grimes) he is left feeling rejected, alone and

outcast by the town. Interlude I can be interpreted to reflect this on a deeper level, however

on a personal level, I thought of a desolate seascape the first time I heard it. Both views are

equally valid, and neither one can be accepted or rejected as being correct. However, on a

slightly more intellectual level, it is possible that the mood of the music is reflecting the

opera’s location, which is a reflection of Grimes’ mood also. Moreover, it shows the

character of the town, in such a desolate setting, nothing much is able to grow and evolve,

which exemplifies the townspeople as not willing to see that Grimes could be telling the truth.

I would like to quantify these arguments by making some observations on Interlude I

(titled Dawn in Britten’s orchestral suite) which has three distinctive motifs. It opens with

flutes and violins, playing in unison very quietly in the upper registers of their instruments

(motif 1). The opening melody revolves around the key of A minor, starting on the dominant.

The high and drawn out phrases, constantly circulating back around E before finally

descending to the tonic of the key, paint a lonely place, indicative of solitude. However,

Britten punctuates this with glimmers of hope by way of motif 2 through unison ascending

and descending arpeggios in the clarinets, harp, and violas. Before returning to the first motif,

Britten employs a sonorous brass and lower strings section (motif 3), which opposes the

minor tonality of the music by introducing A Major. This shifts the tonal centre of the music

for brief moments but ultimately the music retains its A minor nature. The progression of the

chords used in the third motif is outlined in Table 1 below which shows the sequence of the

chords.

30
 Interlude I in Peter Grimes appears to be developed in a way that as the music

progresses through these complex chorale-like sections (the fourth set being the longest and

most complex), their harmonic structure is also increased. As the harmonies are developed, it

is clear to see that there are two harmonic strands. The first is made up of the majority of the

brass section who influence the tonality of the chords used. The second strand of the

harmonies are provided by the bassoons, tuba, ‘cellos and double bases. These instruments

play in exact unison, occasionally splitting to play octave equivalents.

My aim of this particular piece of analysis is to show that whilst the music Britten has

composed for these sections sounds complex, it is in actual fact very simple. Table 1 shows

the chord patterns used by each of the lower pitched instruments in the first of the chorale

sections at R.F. 1. From this, we can see that Britten moves from A Major, to 2 nd position G-

sharp Minor, and then back to A Major, via a diminished 7 th chord starting on C-sharp,

excluding the A-sharp. However, to add interest, Britten includes notes not directly related to

the arpeggio, for example, the added 7 th (G) in chord one. More interestingly, is the addition

of the diminished 5th in chord three, this of course being commonly known as ‘The Devil

Interval’ representing evil. The additions of these notes to the chords in the brass, lower

woodwind and lower strings add an ominous character to the chord. Furthermore, it adds an

element of suspicion to the music, almost as if it is predicting the fall of Grimes.

31
Table 1: Showing the chord sequence at R.F. 1 of the first movement of Britten’s Sea Interludes.

1 2 3 4 5
G# G#
C# C# C#
D# D#
G G G
B B
E E E
 G#  G#  
C# C# C#
D# D#
A D A
A D
Dim. 7th
A Major G# minor G# minor A Major
starting on C#
th nd th
+7 + minor 2 + dim. 5 + D in Bass + 7th

Table 2: Showing the chord sequence at R.F. 2 of the first movement of Britten’s Sea Interludes.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
A
A A D D D C#
D E
C# G# G# F# E A
A# A#
E D# D# C# B C#
D D
C# B# G# F# E A
     F  F 
A G# B# A# G# C#
A# A#
C# D# D# C# B E
D E
A A D D D C#
A
G# Major G# Major F# Major E Major A# Major
A Major A# Major A Major
+ minor 2nd + dim. 5th + minor 6th + 7th + dim. 5th

32
Table 3: Showing the chord sequence three bars before R.F. 3 of the first movement of Britten’s Sea Interludes.

1 2 3 4 5
A A D D A
C# F# F# C# C#
A D# D# A A
C# 
F#  F# 
C# 
C#
E B B E E
C# D# D# C# C#
A A D D A
B Major B Major A Major
A Major A Major
+ 7th + minor 3rd + 4th

33
Table 4: Showing the chord sequence the fourth bar onwards of R.F. 3 of the first movement of Britten’s Sea Interludes.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
A G G G F
F F F D# D# D# D# D# D# D# D#
C# C# G E F# F#
G# A B B C D E F E F E
E A D C# D D
E F# G G A B C D C D C
C# C# F# E F# F#
B C# D D E F# G A G A G
A E B G# A A
E F# G G A B C D C D C
C# A G C# D D
F F F D# D# D# D# D# D# D# D#
A G G G F
G C# D D E F# G A B C D C D C
A G
Major Minor Major Major Major Minor Major Minor Minor Major Minor Major Minor Major
A Major Major
+ + + + + + + + + +
Major Dom. + dim. dom. + dim.
+ 7th +4th minor minor major minor major minor minor minor minor minor
7th 5th 7th 5th
3rd 2nd 7th 6th 3rd 3rd 2nd 3rd 2nd 3rd

18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33
A# A# D# G# G# G# A A D D A
G G A A
C D D D C A F E E C# C#
E F G G F#
E F F F E E D C# C# A A
C D E E D#
C D D D G C F E E C# C#
G A B B F#
G A A A C A A G# G# E C#
C D E E A#
C D D D C E D A# A# A E
G G A A
A# A# D# G# G# A A A A D A
D C D D D C E D# C# C# A
Minor Major Minor Minor Minor Minor Minor Minor Minor Minor Major
C +
C Major E D + 6th minor A
+ + +
Major + dim. + dim. Dom. Minor + dim. Minor and 2nd , 6th Major
+ 4th minor minor minor + 4th + 4th
5th 5th 7t 5th minor and
6th 2nd 6th
6th minor
6th

34
As shown in Table 2 and Table 4 (as well as Table 1) by the yellow shading, Britten’s use of

the tritone is quite prolific considering its dissonant nature. However, the tables each show

that whilst there is some obvious harmonic interest in the music, Britten starts in A Major, and

returns to it each time the brass ensemble plays. This compliments the rest of the music heard

in this specific interlude. Evans has likened it to an ‘orchestral lapping of the sea’.98 This

comes from the other two main textual elements of the music: the high pitched strings and

flute, and the scalic motion of the clarinets, harp and violas. Evans’ observations about the

music’s character are well founded, noting that the lack of harmonic development is suitable

at this point. He suggests that the ‘drones in that Lydian A’ set the tone of the opera due to

their reoccurrence throughout the work. More importantly, Evans defines the chorale like

drone sections (as analysed in Tables 1-4 above) as being ‘impassively ‘white-note’ without a

defined modal centre’. Whilst I have attempted to name each of the chords, there are some

ambiguities created by the rhythms. There are two groups of instruments which play in these

sections, the brass, and the bassoons and double basses. The ambiguity is created by Britten

setting these two groups apart by not having a difference of rhythm (triplets against crotchets -

see bar five of Figure 1). This means that accurate analysis of the music is slightly impeded

by the crossing rhythms, but that is the point, it creates ambivalence in the music, reflecting

the stagnant nature or constant of the sea. Of course the sea is always changing, however it is

a constant in our lives, it has always been there and always will be, and in the same way, it is

a constant theme in this opera, therefore it is fitting that it should be represented this way in

the music. The way it changes is reflected in the more melodic sections of the music in the

interlude.

98
Evans, P., The Music of Benjamin Britten, p. 112

35
Figure 1: Showing the cross rhythms the woodwind and strings against the brass in Interlude I of Peter Grimes.99

99
Britten, B., Peter Grimes, p. 32

36
 The distinctive semitone interval between the F and E in the opening of motif 1 is

repeated in the second act. It is rather inaudible, but as the off stage choir (acting as a church

congregation) are singing The Benedicite, (a canticle usually used as an alternative to the Te

Deum in the 1066 Book of Common Prayer’s Morning Prayer service) the accompanying

organ slowly alternates in unison octaves from a C to a B thus reinforcing the material heard

in Interlude I. The interlude (Interlude III) leading into Act II Scene I is of interest as its

purpose is different to that of the Interlude I. Whilst the music’s character is different (known

as Sunday Morning in The Sea Interludes), it serves as a toccata by way of its A Major key,

and bright tempo (Allegro spiritoso). It is possible to consider this music being played by the

organ in church prior to the forthcoming Sunday service. This is reinforced by the tolling B-

flat bell, despite its dissonant harmony which is created. As the confession begins at R.F. 9,

Orford discovers a bruise on John’s neck. The interplay between the two librettos (Ellen and

the church liturgy ‘dove-tail’) is rather poignant and ironic: it is at this point that Ellen realises

that those singing in church (the townspeople) have been right all along about Grimes. The

interplay between the two voices adds to this effect. Further evidence of Britten reintroducing

material in his operas can be found in Death in Venice when for example he uses the first half

of the Venice Overture (Found at R.F. 41) again at the beginning of the second act to

introduce Scene nine. However, when the material reappears, it is as an orchestral

accompaniment to Aschenbach’s singing, rather than as a piece of an orchestral interest.

Peter Grimes is considered by many people to be Britten’s most successful opera, and

they may well be correct. This is not to say that Britten’s other operatic works are not as

good, but that this one is specifically recalled time and time again by the opera community.

As I shall discuss further on, Peter Grimes is of a different nature to The Turn of the Screw

and Death in Venice, but despite this, they all share similarities. Crabbe’s The Borough

provided Britten with such a strong sense of his heritage that it appears he put a lot of thought

37
and effort into this composition; no other operatic work has a stronger sense of belonging,

even that of Death in Venice I would argue.

Peter Grimes is unlike the other two operas which are discussed in this essay, as it

shows Britten’s symphonic and melodic writing to a greater extent. Whilst elements of these

compositional devices are exhibited in The Turn of the Screw and Death in Venice (as I shall

explore), they are easily seen in Britten’s first opera. Of the three operas considered here,

Peter Grimes shows a deep sense of Britten’s longing to return to his native Suffolk, which is

reflected clearly by the precise detail he has portrayed each character with. As my further

analyses will show, The Turn of the Screw and Death in Venice have been extremely well

thought out to reflect the quality of the inspirational material. However, it feels like Britten

has a greater personal connection to Peter Grimes than he does perhaps with The Turn of the

Screw or Death in Venice. My analysis has so far shown that Peter Grimes contains elements

of music which successfully convey Britten’s connected emotions to a geographical location

to the audience through his lyrical writing. My subsequent chapters will show that whilst the

compositional techniques alter in Britten’s later operas, the ability of the composer to convey

emotion is just as strong.

38
Chapter Three: Comforting Miles

The third chapter of this dissertation considers Britten’s adaption of James’ The Turn

of the Screw. I will consider how various musical cues have been considered by the composer

in order to convey James’ ghost story. Moreover, I will explore how the use of Latin

vocabulary is used to show humour. The Turn of the Screw marks a change in compositional

direction as Britten starts to compose using serial techniques. I will show how the treatment

of the note-row is used to unify the dramatic action with the variations which intersperse each

scene.

As with all of the operas considered in this essay, the conclusion to The Turn of the

Screw is not a happy one, but this one seems particularly bad as it ends with the death of a

boy. At the start of the ghost story, a governess arrives to care for two children (Miles and

Flora). It becomes apparent that they are interacting with ghosts of two previous household

servants which ends in Miles dying. In examining the score of Britten’s chamber opera, it is

clear that the form is very much a like to that of James’ novella by the same title. James’

book is a short story comprising of 24 chapters, each a few pages long. It seems that this is

one fundamental feature that Britten has preserved in his work. The musical version is in two

acts, each with eight scenes. Act one is preceded by a prologue, and a theme. Britten

composed 15 variations on this theme, which are interspersed between each scene. The

parallels Britten draws from James’ novella continue when considering the length of each

scene and variation. Both are short snippets of music which are sympathetic to the length of

each of James’ chapters.

Britten’s music (along with lots of British music) has a charm about it which is

distinctively different from the music that we might expect to hear from mainland Europe,

that of Shostakovich, Rachmaninov, Schuman, and Prokofiev. This is not to say that Britten

does not exhibit the qualities that listed composers above write into their music. For example,

Evans argues quite strongly that even beyond the 1930s when Britten shows a lot of influence

39
from Mahler, The Turn of the Screw shows a considerable influence from the Czech

composer.100 Whilst Evans does not find many musical similarities in The Turn of the Screw,

he infers strong connections between the themes in James’ novella and that which are evident

in Mahler’s work generally, thus suggesting that Britten identified these too.

The Turn of the Screw is different in terms of its form from the majority of opera in

existence. Operatic works tend to take a general form, in that there is an extended piece of

musical drama conveyed by the cast, punctuated by orchestral interludes for example, as we

have seen in Peter Grimes. The Turn of the Screw is different because instead of following

the normal manner as discussed, the opera is set around a set of theme and variations, played

throughout the course of the work.

The opera describes a short period of time, in which a newly appointed governess

meets her new charges (siblings Miles and Flora), and observes how their lives are affected by

the presence of the ghosts of previous members of the household staff. Much of the opera is

focused around Miles, specifically around the theme often referred to as the ‘malo’ theme.

This is in reference to the section of the opera when Miles sings the word malo over and over

again for example in Act I, Scene VI, Act II, Scene IV, and Scene VIII. It is not until the end

of the opera that what the governess has witnessed seems to crystallise in her mind. This

motif is important in the opera, as it constantly reappears once it has been introduced in Act I,

Scene VI, particularly at the end of the opera. The shape of the phrase is important, whilst the

pitch of the notes gets higher, it does so by the second interval falling mid way through the

phrase rather than rising. An example of the general shape of the melody is shown in Figure 2

below which is indicative of the music whenever the word ‘malo’ is used in the libretto. In

seeing this, the feeling of contemplation is conveyed to the audience by the melody stagnating

in the upper half of the treble clef stave, as if Miles is just thinking about the connotations of

the word, and the implications that it could have.

100
Evans, P., The Music of Benjamin Britten, p. 203

40
Figure 2: Showing the ‘malo’ theme used in The Turn of the Screw.101

Kildea writes in the newly published Rethinking Britten, on the ambiguities found in

Britten’s works. Discussing The Turn of the Screw, Kildea attempts to answer the question

that has plagued the minds of not only academics and critics, but also that of audience

members of both James’ work and Britten’s, who ask the question, are the ghosts real or not?

Furthermore, are they a product of the imagination of Miles, or a delusion invented by The

Governess thwarted by hysteria? Kildea does not provide a definite answer as it is very

difficult to do so, merely leaving the reader to make up their own mind. In helping the reader

to make up their mind, Kildea reminds them that Britten did not seem to have an opinion

either way from the conversations that he had with Piper. 102

Whittall’s discussion of the climax of The Turn of the Screw strongly argues that the

music set to the reprise of Miles’ ‘malo’ theme mirrors the compositional devices used when

101
Britten, B., The Turn of the Screw Opus 54 (Vocal Score (Holst, I.)), (London: Boosey & Hawkes, 1957) p.
40
102
Kildea, P., ‘On Ambiguity in Britten’ in Rupprecht, P. (Ed.), Rethinking Britten, pp. 15-16

41
the material is first heard in Act I.103 Britten shifts the tonality of the music from F Major to

A Major, to hint at the tonality of the music written for Quint (in A-flat Major). The

association of A-flat prevails through the final scene of Act I, through the variation which

opens the second act, until half way through the first scene of Act II when, at R.F. 22, Britten

changes key to G-sharp Minor.104

The word Malo first appears in Scene VII of the first act, when the governess takes it

upon herself to teach the children after Miles has been expelled from school.105 The Latin

lesson does not appear in any of James’ original text, but reference is made to Miles thinking

he can be bad. Whilst he seems to be saying it in a jovial manner (it is certainly understood

that way by the governess) Myfanwy Piper’s libretto changes the mood from the characters

being innocent (at this point) to giving them a darker nature.

Those who are familiar with James’ original text will know that as the story progresses

from seemingly being a fairy tale, it soon develops into a ghost story. At the climax of the

novella, the boy, Miles, dies. Britten seeds the audience’s mind subconsciously by suggesting

that there is likely to be some conflict between some of the characters in the opera by the use

of the tone row that he develops, as I explain later in this chapter.

So much is the significance of Britten’s use of serialism in The Turn of the Screw that

many authors and analysis have spent significant time investigating this rather than devoting

time to the libretto. They have delved deeper than the opera’s initial impressions, and sought

out the title’s motion of a screw being turned in both the novella and the opera. Despite the

terminology being correct, Whittall questions if Britten’s work can be labelled as being a

serial composition. This is because Britten does not ‘explore… interactions between tonal

and twelve-note techniques’ in similar ways to Berg as Whittall suggests. 106 Even more so,

103
Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett: Studies in Themes & Techniques, Second Edition (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1990) p. 162
104
White, E. W., Benjamin Britten, p. 182
105
James, H., The Turn of the Screw, (New York: The Modern Library, 1930) pp. 15-19, 70-71
106
Whittall, A., ‘The Chamber Operas’, in Cooke, M. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten, pp. 105-6

42
he goes on to point out that the associations Britten makes with the technique are diminished

when compared against the efforts of Stravinsky, Webern and Schoenberg.

Whilst commendable, there are unanswered questions in reference to Britten’s desire

to include Latin in the opera, which does not appear in James’ original text. The Latin lesson

that Piper and Britten devise is based on a revised edition of Kennedy’s Latin Primer, a text

book Britten is likely to have used at school himself in its original form. The revised edition

contains mnemonics as rhymes at the end to assist with learning various Latin words. One of

these forms the basis for the lesson (Act I, Scene VI), containing specifically masculine

nouns. As Valentine Cunningham points out that the libretto for this scene has not come

under much academic scrutiny.107 For example, Erwin Stein mentions that there are

connections between the music used in the scene and following variation, and how the melody

changes between the mnemonic and the following ‘malo’ phrase.108 Hindley refers to it

slightly more, discussing the use and connotations of the word ‘malo’ and the relevance this

has for the plot. Hindley shows how the different translations of the Latin into English can

have different meanings, and how Britten suggests which of them are being inferred through

the accompanying music by noting how the melody alters as Miles sings. 109

The only publication I have found to date (with thanks to Nigel Coulton) which

significantly explores the mnemonic that Britten chooses from the Kennedy text book (and

the implications that this decision could have) is by linguist Christopher Stray. As such, his

paper (Sexy Ghosts and Gay Grammarians) takes a strong influence from the libretto, rather

than the music accompanying it.110 Stray’s paper is suggestive over various things in the

opera, for example the children’s names (Miles and Flora) being Latin nouns for solider and

flower respectively and even the children’s initials representing masculine and feminine. 111

107
Cunningham, V., ‘Filthy Britten’
108
Stein, E., ‘‘The Turn of the Screw’ and its Musical Idiom’, Tempo, 34 (Winter 1954-1955) p. 9
109
Hindley, C., ‘Why Does Miles Die?’, p. 12
110
Stray, C., ‘Sexy ghosts and gay grammarians: Kennedy’s Latin primer in Britten’s Turn of the
Screw’, Paradigm, 2/6 (2003) pp. 9-2
111
Ibid., p. 5

43
 Of slightly more interest is the rhyme used:

Many nouns in is we find

To the masculine are assigned:
Amnis, axis, caulis, collis,
Clunis, crinis, fascis, follis,
Fustis, ignis, orbis, ensis,
Panis, piscis, postis, mensis,
Torris, unguis and canalis,
Vectis, vermis, and natalis,
Sanguis, pulvis, cucumis,
Lapis, cases, manes, glis.112

The significance of these words at first is not obvious, until they are translated in to English.

From the table of translations that I have produced in Appendix 1, we find many of the words

have an altogether innocent meaning, in other words, they are just masculine nouns ending in

‘is’ as Miles suggests. On consulting Adams’ volume on sexual Latin vocabulary, we find

that some of the words could be considered to have a second, more euphemistic meaning, also

shown in the table.113 For example: Caulis (meaning stem or penis), Folis (meaning bellows,

leather money bag or scrotum) and Cucumis (meaning cucumber or penis also). Of the words

which do not appear in Adams’ work, I hardly feel that they ought to be over looked, for

example: Clunis (meaning haunch or buttock), Fustis (meaning club or staff) and Ensis

(meaning sword). Whilst these words are perfectly innocent, it is also entirely possible that

they might also have an element of innuendo, that to the un-expecting listener their meaning

is at face value, but upon careful thought, their definition may be altered to a slightly more

sexual nature.

Stray’s article argues strongly for the case that whilst the Latin used in The Turn of the

Screw might have double meanings, he fervently believes that it is innocent and that Britten

and Piper have not attempted to conceal a subtle message in the work. He suggests that it is

highly unlikely Britten would have done such a thing, considering that throughout his school

career, he was at the bottom of his Latin class, and ‘scared of Latin unseens’ referring to

112
Piper, M., ‘The Turn of the Screw: An Opera in Two Acts’, in Herbert, D. (Ed.), The Operas of Benjamin
Britten, (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1979) p. 240
113
Adams, J. N., The Latin Sexual Vocabulary, (London: Duckworth, 1987)

44
regular Latin tests.114 Furthermore, he refutes Cunningham’s claim that Kennedy himself was

a homosexual, up to the same tricks that Britten may or may not be up to. Stray comes to the

conclusion that it is highly unlikely Britten is playing around with rude language, and that he

would not want to be doing such a thing. However, I (and Nigel Coulton, a local Latin

expert) believe otherwise, as it seems too much of a coincidence that a rhyme containing so

many words which could be considered to be rude appear in this work, when Britten could

have chosen something different and more appropriate from Kennedy’s book.

There are several reasons that lead to this conclusion, including the characterisation of

the children. Miles and Flora are presented as prim and proper children for the Governess to

look after, but as time goes on, she soon realises that they are not quite as they seem: both

appear to be misbehaving, albeit under the influence of the ghosts. On top of this, Miles is

expelled from his boarding school for hurting another boy. The nature of the children is

reflected in the Latin, and vice versa, whilst on one level it is just a recital of nouns, on

another, the nouns might be read as suggestive of a coded message to anyone in the audience

who can understand the language.

Mary Beard regularly contributes to a blog as part of The Times Literary Supplement.

One of her entries looks at Kennedy’s work after a colleague bought Cunningham’s article to

her attention. Beard considers the arguments from both sides, taking into account Stray’s

piece. She honours Stray as being one of the highest authorities on Kennedy, but refutes his

arguments. Beard considers the use of the Latin in the rhyme to be too much of a

coincidence.115 She notes that there are other words (which do not appear in Adams’ book)

114
Stray, C., ‘Sexy ghosts and gay grammarians’, p. 10
115
One of the comments on this blog (see Footnote 107 below) by Tony Francis remarks that ‘in medieval Latin,
there was a distinguished tradition of writing in double and triple entendres. It was the mark of a brilliant writer’.
He suggests that the contributors to Kennedy’s book could be writing in the same vain, but there is no evidence
to suggest this either way.

45
which have second meanings such as: Clunis meaning anus, and Caluis meaning cabbage-

stalk which, whilst appearing to be rather odd, we later learn being a euphemism for prick. 116

The use of the word malo appears to be of greater significance. Again, Stray asserts

that the word has several meanings when the spelling is altered, but the pronunciation does

not change (homophone). Stray finds three different conjugations of Malo: mâlo (verb, I

prefer), mâlum (noun, apple tree), and malus (adjective, bad) - the last being used to describe

‘malo than a naughty boy’ and ‘malo in adversity’.117

As in Peter Grimes, Britten includes a church service in the opera of The Turn of the

Screw (Act II, Scene II). This is sung largely in English and resembles the liturgy found in a

service; however, there are also moments when the Latin heard in Act I, Scene VI reoccurs.

(‘O amnis, axis, caulis, collis, clunis, crinis, fascis, follis: Bless ye the Lord’).118 The

underlined words are those which were identified above as being of a particularly sexual

nature. Britten’s use of the same language here is a further suggestion of evidence that he is

attempting to inject some humour into the opera, particularly when it is included with ‘Bless

ye the Lord’ from The Benedicite, also used in Act II of Peter Grimes.

This contradicts Stray’s arguments about Britten’s use of the Latin being purely

innocent. Britten and Piper are perhaps questioning the establishment of Christianity; that is

not to say that Britten thought badly of religion, indeed, whilst he was not a practising

Christian, nor would he identify with being one, he still had a tolerance for it, potentially

planted by his boarding schools with ‘prayers at 8.0[sic.]’.119 One only need turn to the

themes that he employs for his three Church Parables to see that. In Peter Grimes, references

to Anglican services are also used: firstly by way of a hymn (Now that Daylight Fills the Sky),

and then by using liturgy, also taken from the Morning Prayer service in the Book of Common

116
Beard, M., ‘A Don’s Life: The Sex Secrets of Kennedy’s Latin Primer’ The Times Literary Supplement
(London: The Times Literary Supplement, 2007) accessed via
<http://timesonline.typepad.com/dons_life/2007/09/the-sexual-secr.html> on 4th June 2014
117
Stray, C., ‘Sexy ghosts and gay grammarians’, p. 3
118
Piper, M., ‘The Turn of the Screw’, in Herbert, D. (Ed.), The Operas of Benjamin Britten, p. 243
119
Powell, N., Benjamin Britten: A Life for Music, (London: Hutchinson, 2013) p. 12

46
Prayer. Yet another reference to organised religion can be found in Death in Venice, when

Aschenbach follows the Polish family to St Mark’s.

This is not the only opera of Britten’s which employs Latin. At R.F. 14 of Act II,

Scene I of Peter Grimes, when the church service is in progress, there is a bar of music where

the chorus sings ‘Ananias, Azarias, Misael, bless ye the Lord’.120 Of course this is The

Benedicite material which is heard in The Turn of the Screw, but Britten’s first inclusion of

the text is far less altered, making that which is heard in the later chamber opera to be more

satanic than that of the Peter Grimes version.

It is important to note that The Turn of the Screw marks a shift in Britten’s

compositional style, as Britten begins to experiment with 12 note serialism. 121 The reference

to serialism can be found in the 15 variations which separate each of the 16 scenes. As

Whittall notes, Britten introduces the tone row in three sections of four notes (See Figure 3

below). The pitch of each three sets of three bars rises in octave increments. One could infer

that the rising pitch could possibly be signalling the beginning of the piece (similar to the sun

rising in a metaphorical sense) however this is a speculation too far. Furthermore (as

Whittall’s analysis shows), at the end of each of the three bars of four notes, Britten

emphasises their importance by collecting them together and scoring them as tetrachords.

120
Britten, B., Peter Grimes Opus 33 (Vocal Score (Stein, E.)), (London: Boosey & Hawkes, 1945), p. 198
121
Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett, p. 159

47
Figure 3: Showing the first nine bars (to show the 12 note-row) of the Theme used in The Turn of the Screw.122

Whittall’s analysis subsequently shows that splitting the tone row into four groups of

three, and rearranging the chord into its most compact form, produces four identical chords at

different pitches otherwise known as the source. This shows that the notes used in the tone

row are derived from a 4 identical trichords, with intervals at 0, 2, 5. Despite Whittall making

a mistake in the example he gives, with the seventh and eighth notes being the incorrect way

round, this does not alter his analysis (see Figure 4 below).123 Evans’ research into the tone

row shows that it is more ‘elaborate’ than at first glance, analysis which goes much deeper

than Whittall’s.124 Evans suggests that by transposing just the D-natural down an octave, ‘two

simple [whole-tone] scales’ can be derived (See Figure 5 for Evans’ analysis).125 This

reinforces the claims of academics that the music has a motion, as Evans’ asserts, the scales

separated by perfect 5ths ‘imply an infinitely extended pattern; this screw can turn for ever.’ 126

Further analysis by Evans’ shows that each of the variations adopts a ‘tonal centre’ around

122
Britten, B., The Turn of the Screw, p.5
123
This mistake is confirmed when looking at example 71a in White, E. W., Benjamin Britten, p. 181 where the
tone row appears with F-sharp, D-sharp, G-sharp, not F-sharp, G-sharp, D-sharp.
124
Evans, P., The Music of Benjamin Britten, p. 205
125
Ibid.
126
Ibid.

48
one of the notes from the scale.127 He shows how the theme is transposed to the specific tonal

centre as appropriate. Evans also argues that whilst some critics have seen Britten’s choice of

compositional technique as an ‘acceptance of Schoenbergian principle’, Britten sees the note-

row (and his subsequent treatment of it) as a symbol not of ‘equality’ (as some suggest) but of

‘totality’.128 In this sense, it could be argued that Britten is campaigning for gay rights so to

speak. However, Evans’ argument that this is a composition demonstrating totality suggests

that Britten’s motives were to produce an altogether complete work (in the sense of

perfection), and not a politically centred work.

Figure 4: Showing the 12 note-row from Britten’s score compared to the row and source published in Whittall, A., Britten &
Tippett.129

Figure 5: Showing Evans’ analysis of Britten’s theme used in The Turn of the Screw, and how the subsequent variations
utilise it.130

127
Ibid., p. 206
128
Ibid.
129
Britten, B., The Turn of the Screw, p.5, Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett, p. 159
130
Evans, P., The Music of Benjamin Britten, p. 206

49
 Rupprecht begins his discussion of The Turn of the Screw by considering the opera’s

main theme. He observes Britten’s notes in the score identifying the theme (the 12 note tone

row as discussed) but more so, he asserts that the title of the opera plays a stronger role in the

music than we might imagine. Rupprecht asserts that after the introduction of the theme,

quaver and semiquaver passages that follow leading into Scene I, is indicative of a screw’s

thread ‘[tracing] a patterned sequential motion in one direction’. 131 He goes on to suggest that

this ‘inner-voice melody’ can be heard throughout the opera, suggesting that as the opera

progresses, the audience are hearing a metaphorical screw being turned and driven home, as

Rupprecht’s research shows, not only is the screw being turned in James’ novella, but that

Britten and Piper ensure that this effect runs throughout their work. This shows that the title

is a little more integral to the opera (and novella) than one might think. Howard concurs,

asserting that this is perhaps ‘Britten’s most tightly organised opera’ when dismissing a claim

from Riccardo Malipiero that Britten’s efforts seem to be lost in the interpretation of the

libretto.132

Whilst Malipiero’s criticism is harsh (Howard describes it as ‘one of the severest

criticisms levelled against The Turn of the Screw’) it provides the opportunity for discussion

of the music’s structure.133 Malipiero accuses The Turn of the Screw to be lacking in

significant instrumental passages and lyrical vocal lines, for example. Howard is not the only

academic to disagree with Malipiero, but also Brett, who observes that further analysis on the

theme used as the basis for the variations is possible. He notes that the theme ‘can be reduced

to a set of rising fourths followed by falling thirds’.134 Brett continues to assert that

rearranging the first half of the tone row creates the ‘first six notes of the A major scale’ and

similar treatment of the second half of the row produces the ‘hexachord E-flat-C, suggesting

131
Rupprecht, P., Britten’s Musical Language, (United States of America: Cambridge University Press, 2005) p.
141
132
Howard, P. (Ed.), The Turn of the Screw, p. 71
133
Ibid.
134
Brett, P., ‘Eros and Orientalism’ in Brett, P., (Ed.), Wood, E., (Ed.), & Thomas, G. C., (Ed.), Queering the
Pitch, p. 240

50
E-flat or A-flat’. Brett uses this analysis to show that Britten’s organisation of the opera was

carefully planned with the juxtaposition of A major against A-flat representing the battle

between The Governess and Quint over Miles.

Without proper analysis of the storyline (and indeed the opera) it would be impossible

to see these developments in both works, which rather defeats their object. Rupprecht shows

how James creates this by way of his story starting in a ‘fairy-tale-like’ way with the

governess not being allowed to have contact with the children’s legal guardian. 135 This shows

how meticulous Britten was at developing important, integral musical plots to accompany the

action on-stage. Referring back to Whittall, ‘Britten followed most opera composers in using

thematic material, rather than tonality, to carry the principal weight of extra-musical

association’.136 In other words, he followed the example of other operatic composers in

developing a theme for a character or mood, for example, rather than simply alternating

between different tonal centres. Of course, this contradicts the earlier claim that Britten

migrates Miles’ ‘malo’ theme from F Major to A-flat Major to hint at the associations

irrespective of whether they were real or imagined between the boy and Quint. Furthermore,

as we saw from Brett’s paper discussing Britten’s use of orientalism, the theme used in The

Turn of the Screw actively encourages the use of tonal centres as a means of identifying a

narrative between The Governess and Quint.137

This allows Britten to not only signal the introduction or return of something on set,

but allows them to develop the music by combining themes to create new sections of music,

linked to the action on-stage. Furthermore, it enables the composer to mix events up in the

action, for example characters adopting themes from each other. We see this at the end of The

Turn of the Screw, when The Governess sings Miles’ ‘malo’ theme after his death to end the

opera. It signals that she finally understands the reason for him singing it, as she realises that

135
Rupprecht, P., Britten’s Musical Language, p. 142
136
Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett, p. 161
137
Brett, P., ‘Eros and Orientalism’ in Brett, P., (Ed.), Wood, E., (Ed.), & Thomas, G. C., (Ed.), Queering the
Pitch, p. 240

51
whilst he was a cheeky boy, he was not necessarily evil, but was under the influence of the

circumstances around him. Hindley’s interpretation of the final scene (which he employs to

address the question of his paper: ‘Why does Miles Die?’) is that Miles and Quint have had

homosexual relations with each other which The Governess is aware of. 138 It is Hindley’s

view (which he claims is shared by Evans and Palmer) that Miles cries out Quint’s name out

of love for him, and the following ‘You Devil’ is not because Miles has seen through the

ghost, but that he recognises The Governess as coming between the two of them. Hindley

supports his proposal by suggesting that even though the opera ends in A Major (the key

associated with The Governess) and not in A-flat thus signalling that The Governess has won

the battle for the boy, at which point Miles dies because he wants to be with Quint. Bridcut

notes that A Major has a further significance in Death in Venice representing beauty and

youth. It is more than possible that the same parallels between key and nouns. 139 This

suggestion is supported further when considering Quint’s representation through A-flat Major

against A Major which results in dissonance due to the semitone difference in keys.

The Turn of the Screw not only marks a change in Britten’s compositional style, but

also in terms of the development of the libretto. Brett remarks in his chapter ‘Britten’s

Dream’ that ‘cultivat[ing] dream, fantasy, and the exotic’ allowed Britten to explore the sort

of relationships that Britten was interested in.140 As Harvey notes, Britten explored

‘homosexual desire… covertly in Peter Grimes, Billy Budd, and The Turn of the Screw’.141

She continues to assert that sexual desire is more obviously exhibited through Death in

Venice. Britten’s desire to explore on-stage homosexual attraction was fulfilled using James’

novella as he was able to suggest more strongly than before at homosexual characteristics,

mainly that of the relationship between Miles and Quint. Peter Grimes does not outwardly

infer any improper relationships between Grimes and his apprentices. The sexual abuse

138
Hindley, C., ‘Why Does Miles Die?’ pp. 15-17
139
Bridcut, J., Britten’s Children, (London: Faber and Faber, 2006) p. 101
140
Brett, P., ‘Britten’s Dream’ in Solie, R. A., (Ed.), Musicology and Difference, p. 266
141
Harvey, C., ‘Words and Actions’ in Cooke, M. (Ed.), Twentieth-Century Opera, p. 50

52
suggestion is subtly introduced so that it is inferred by the audience. Britten does this by

displaying only a small amount of violence, which comes in the second act of Peter Grimes.

He orders the boy to prepare to go to sea on Sunday morning, roughly pushing him towards

Grimes’ hut. There is evidence to support that Grimes is not of a particularly caring nature

when moments before, Ellen Orford discovers a bruise on John’s neck.142

Peter Grimes shows a vindicated individual whose string of bad luck casts doubt on

the nature of his character. The Turn of the Screw is completely different, a clear change of

tact has occurred, evident in the treatment of the children by the writers before considering the

on-stage action. For example, they are given names to begin with, rather than being

recognised as boy and girl. There are similarities between the two works though, for example

the treatment of the children by women. Orford (in Peter Grimes), and The Governess and

Mrs Grose (in The Turn of the Screw) all show the children love that is not evidently received

from any of the mature male characters in either of the librettos. Where Grimes appears to

treat John roughly, Quint tries to control Miles by preying on his young impressionable mind.

Whilst The Turn of the Screw is widely considered to be Britten’s ‘most tightly

organised opera’ it is perhaps the least well known of the three operas discussed in this

essay.143 However, of the three it is perhaps the one that is the most interesting from a

musical perspective. Quite often, works enter the canon because people like listening to them,

pieces such as a Beethoven symphony, or a Rachmaninov piano concerto. They are, in effect,

crowd pleasers because the audiences know what they are going to get from the music, a

melody that everyone will leave within their heads. It is unsurprising then, that Peter Grimes

is considered to be of such an equal value, yes it lacks memorable melodies, but it is of such a

grand scale tackling very real emotions that audiences are happy to go back to listen to it. The

Turn of the Screw, on the other hand, is not, and unfortunately, it is down to several factors.

Firstly the over organisation of the composition, secondly the sparse cast and orchestration,

142
Act II, R.F. 9, bars 4-9 in Britten, B., Peter Grimes, pp. 258-9
143
Howard, P., The Turn of the Screw, p. 71

53
and thirdly the less than melodic phrases. These result in The Turn of the Screw often not

being performed, and the reality of this is that the music is unfortunately not well known.

The Turn of the Screw is a piece which on a basic level recounts James’ novella, but

on a much deeper level, Britten has encoded the music with a greater understanding of the

original text. In some ways, the singing (not only in The Turn of the Screw, but also Death in

Venice) employed by the opera is reminiscent of the techniques employed by Schoenberg, for

example in Pierrot Lunaire (Sprechstimme). Considering the serial influence that Britten has

adopted in both works, it is perhaps not a coincidence.

Britten’s change of compositional style, both in the way he developed melodies and

themes has altered significantly since the 1945 production of Peter Grimes. This is seen

clearly in the development of serial techniques, which the composer uses to form an

extremely organised set of variations in order to develop the theme. The Turn of the Screw

not only marks a change in the way the music is derived and compiled, but also through the

treatment of rhythm in reference to the libretto in order to develop a greater sense of

conversation between the characters, as I shall explore more fully in Death in Venice.

Britten’s use of Latin vocabulary is of great interest, especially considering the claims which

are made by the aforementioned academics. They suggest that Britten’s decision to include it

in the opera was not by pure accident, but rather that it enabled him to inject some humour

into a storyline which had to end constitutionally badly.

54
Chapter Four: Committing Aschenbach

In the final chapter of this dissertation, I will disseminate how Britten uses serial

techniques to emphasise the storyline that he is trying to convey through the opera Death in

Venice. I will also show how Britten conveys emotion, and love through his music.

Furthermore, I will demonstrate through pitch class set analysis how the music morphs from

atonal to tonal music, with moments of uncertainty in order to reference the earlier material,

and how this shows Britten’s development in compositional style.

As Rosamund Strode recounts in her chapter concerning how Britten’s version of

Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice came to light, the composer had been given permission to

start work on this project in September 1970, but it was not until December that year, whilst

on holiday in Germany that Britten began work on the composition.144 As Strode continues to

assert, Britten’s desire to complete Death in Venice apparent in an interview with Alan Blyth

in December 1974, after Britten’s heart surgery: ‘For one thing, it is probably Peter’s last

major operatic part; for another, it was an opera I had been thinking about for a very long

time’.145 Not only does this show Britten’s commitment to his operatic compositional career,

but also his devotion to being able to produce a further work for Pears, conscious that time

was progressing.

Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice portrays the story of an author whose career is on

hold whilst suffering from a degree of ‘writers’ block’. In an attempt to cure this, he decides

to holiday in Austria, but finding it not to his taste, moves quickly to Venice. It is here that

both Britten’s opera, and Visconti’s film (both released at about the same time), pick up on

the novella, as we see Gustav von Aschenbach arriving by gondola. 146 Whilst there, the

144
Strode, R., ‘A ‘Death in Venice’ Chronicle’ in Mitchell, D. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten: Death in Venice,
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987) p. 26
145
Britten, B., interviewed by Blyth, A., ‘Britten Returns to Composing’ in The Times (30th December 1974)
Reference taken from Strode, R., ‘A ‘Death in Venice’ Chronicle’ in Mitchell, D. (Ed.), Death in Venice, p. 26
146
When Britten requested permission from Mann’s son (Prof. Golo Mann), he was advised of Visconti’s film
(using music by Mahler) being made at the same time, but was assured that there should not be any contractual
difficulties between Britten and Warner Bros. This was not to be the case, and after a lengthy two years, the

55
author encounters a Polish family, of which the eldest child (Tadzio) catches Aschenbach’s

eye. The tragedy of this story is that Aschenbach falls in love with Tadzio to the point that he

cannot heed the advice given to him to leave Venice which is in the grasps of a cholera

epidemic. Unsurprisingly, Aschenbach dies from the bacterial disease whilst watching Tadzio

play on the beach.

As one might expect with Britten’s work, there is no suggestion of perversion, in other

words, one does not get the sense that Aschenbach’s love for Tadzio would ever turn into

anything sexual. Instead, we see a man who is tortured by his attraction to a boy. Scholars

have hinted at the attraction that both Britten and Pears felt towards boys, as suggested, for

example, by Kildea, arguing that it is reflected in this final opera.147 Moreover, Kildea

recounts a period of time in Britten and Pears’ relationship which was tested by Britten’s

relationship with adolescent boys, notably David Hemmings and Jonathan Gathorne-Hardy.148

As with the other operas discussed in this essay, Death in Venice opens without an

overture. Instead, we are greeted by Aschenbach who is lamenting the fact that whilst his

mind continues to work, he cannot bring himself to channel any of his thoughts into words.

He opens by singing a twelve note theme (see Figure 6) over three phrases. This is then

reiterated, sung in retrograde, again, over three phrases (see Figure 7). The orchestral

accompaniment emphasises the serial nature of the music by repeating the first note of each

phrase (see Figure 6 & Figure 7). Of course there are similarities between Death in Venice

and The Turn of the Screw. As we saw earlier, The Turn of the Screw introduces the 12 note

tone row in the first orchestral tutti section marked in the score as ‘Theme’. 149 Here the row is

presented in three distinctive sections of four notes. The first difference to notice between the

two operas is that the row is presented in the orchestra in the earlier opera, and by the

issues were resolved. As cited in Strode, R., ‘A ‘Death in Venice’ Chronicle’ in Mitchell, D. (Ed.), Death in
Venice, p. 26
147
Kildea, P., Benjamin Britten, pp. 137-8 (Kildea notes that Britten wrote to a friend saying that ‘he was
‘running mildly after a sweet tough Stage Hand’’. Kildea also notes that there was a difference between the boys
that Britten pined for over those ‘picked up’ by Auden and Isherwood.)
148
Ibid., pp. 400-405
149
Britten, B., The Turn of the Screw, p.5

56
protagonist in the later work. Second, The Turn of the Screw’s row appears as part of one of

many short punctuating orchestral interludes after the opera has begun whereas in Death in

Venice, it is the first thing the audience hears. This almost states Britten’s intentions for the

opera, in other words making it plain that this work has a definite serial flavour to it, whereas

in The Turn of the Screw, I would argue it is more carefully hidden.

Figure 6: Showing the first nine bars of Death in Venice to highlight the 12 note tone row and the orchestral reiteration in the
accompaniment.150

150
Britten, B., Death in Venice Opus 88 (Vocal Score (Matthews, C.)), (London: Faber Music Limited, 1974) p.
1

57
Figure 7: Showing bars 10-23 of Death in Venice to highlight the 12 note tone row and the orchestral reiteration in the
accompaniment in the retrograde.151

151
Britten, B., Death in Venice p. 2

58
 In the same way as The Turn of the Screw, Death in Venice also presents the tone row

in three separate sections; however, the sections are not as regimented as they are in the

chamber opera. In The Turn of the Screw, the first two sections irrefutably sound out the first

two thirds of the tone row. The third section does so as well, but it consecutively reiterates

some of the notes meaning that the B-flat is repeated twice, and the C-natural once as shown

in Chapter Three: Comforting Miles. The structure is not as formal in Death in Venice, where

the three sections are unbalanced. In the first, we hear four notes made up of semitones from

F-natural to G-sharp. In the second section, the G-sharp is reiterated and a further three notes

separated by semitones are yet again heard rising to B-natural. In the final section, the B-

natural is also heard again at the beginning like the G-sharp, followed by the remaining five

notes of the row. As Harper-Scott points out, there is a strikingly strong resemblance between

notes 4-8 of the opening tone row. The upward motion from G-sharp to B-natural reminds

him of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde opera. Harper-Scott notes that the:

chromatically sliding motion from G-sharp to B-natural (the identifying chromatic

slide of Tristan und Isolde, here functioning in the same way as an emblem of

‘desire’) followed by a rising fourth, is to make the putative tonic E major leap out

from the row.152

Whilst I interpret Britten’s music at this point to be less chromatic, there is a Tristan

resolution as Harper-Scott observes. Rupprecht asserts the opening nine bars of the first scene

resolve in the same chord which is heard in the second full bar of Wagner’s Prelude to Tristan

und Isolde.153 The link is slightly tenuous, as the E-flat (and enharmonic equivalent D-sharp)

are only heard briefly: the E-flat for only a quaver, and the D-sharp oscillates onto a C-

natural. The chords in question can be shown to be related to each other by some simple

152
Harper-Scott, J. P. E., ‘Britten and the Deadlock of Identity Politics’ in Purvis, P. (Ed.), Masculinity in
Opera: Gender, History, and New Musicology, (Oxon: Routledge, 2013) p. 157
153
Rupprecht, P., Britten’s Musical Language, p. 252

59
Pitch-Class set analysis. Both chords share the same Forte set name, 4-27 (as shown in Table

5 under chord 13), meaning that in essence, they are the same chord. 154

Perhaps more importantly, Whittall finds similarities between Death in Venice and the

works that Britten was producing before and after, notable works include: Cello Suite No. 3

(Opus 87) (1974), Canticle V: The Death of Saint Narcissus (1975), and revisions of Paul

Bunyan in 1974 and ‘76.155 Specifically, he draws upon Canticle IV (Journey of the Magi,

Opus 86) and the third Cello Suite which were written after Owen Wingrave (1970), but

before Death in Venice. Whittall suggests there is a relationship between the ‘travelling

theme which is present in all three Church Parables and Death in Venice’ and that this theme

is developed more broadly in Canticle IV.156 This semi-recycling of material suggests to me

that Britten had found a template which he considered to work well for composing music. It

is a technique which can be found throughout music, not just in Britten’s works. For

example, there are distinctive thematic parallels between Rachmaninov’s works for orchestra

and solo piano. A specific example being the relationship between the theme of the first

movement of the third Piano Concerto and the second half of the first movement of

Rachmaninov’s fourth Piano Concerto, specifically at R.F. 26 (Tempo come primo).

Particularly in Britten’s works, the shape of the ‘malo’ theme heard in The Turn of the Screw

is reflected in the first seven notes of Death in Venice’s serial theme. If the note heads were

to be joined by a line, the shape would be similar to the mathematical plot of a cubic equation,

i.e. a curve which rises, falls and then continues its ascent.

It is important to mention, however, that Death in Venice not only shares connections

with The Turn of the Screw, but also with Peter Grimes. Death in Venice employs a large

symphony orchestra, in the same manner which we saw in Peter Grimes, yet in contrast to the

necessary extravagance of a vast cast employed for Peter Grimes in order to portray Crabbe’s

characters, Death in Venice employs a single singer to sing many of the roles throughout the

154
See my explanation of Pitch-Class Set Theory for justification.
155
Cooke, M., ‘Chronology’ in Cooke, M., (Ed.) Benjamin Britten, p. xviii
156
Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett, p. 255

60
opera. For example, in the cast list, The Traveller also plays/sings six other characters. This

is not to say that a chorus is not called for (as in The Turn of the Screw) because this is not the

case; indeed, many of the chorus are given specific characters to sing.157

Whittall asserts that ‘like Owen Wingrave, Death in Venice ‘modulates’ from an initial

twelve-note proposition to a modal ‘resolution’.158 Even though the modulation does not

occur until later in the scene, we find that Britten hints at it in the build up to R.F. 1 when he

briefly shifts towards a tonal centre by introducing the Tristan chord as previously mentioned.

Surprisingly, Whittall briefly mentions that this is ‘ambiguous and inevitable’, hinting that he

is suggesting a narrative that Britten may have developed. If not, it is certainly one that

Whittall is assuming in his analysis of Death in Venice. Despite Whittall’s own ambiguity, it

is well founded, as the ‘modulation’ (as he puts it) does suggest a change in the character of

Aschenbach. We see this as the opera develops, not through the deterioration of his health,

but through the change in his infatuation for Tadzio. Whittall is almost suggesting that as

Aschenbach falls for the boy, his health intrinsically suffers, which is mirrored by the change

from serial to modal writing in Britten’s music as an almost inverse symbiotic relationship.

Evans, Rupprecht, and Whittall all agree that there is a significant turning point in this

opera, when the music ‘modulates’ from its atonal beginnings into music with a tonal

centre.159 Generally, they concur that the modulation happens at R.F. 3 when the music

moves into E Major, signalled by the repeated octave Es in Aschenbach’s solo line, the

accompaniment, and the appearance of a key signature. It is at this point in the libretto that

Aschenbach sings his allegiance to his profession as an author, a sort of creed. At the end of

Act I, Aschenbach freely (and somewhat ashamedly) admits to himself that he loves Tadzio,

but more importantly, the shift from atonal to tonal music is confirmed by the action ending in

E Major. It could be seen to signify a shift from Aschenbach’s creative mind (represented by

157
Britten, B., The Turn of the Screw
158
Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett, p. 261
159
Evans, J., ‘Twelve-note structures and tonal polarity’ in Mitchell, D. (Ed.), Benjamin Britten: Death in
Venice, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987) pp. 99-114; Rupprecht, P., Britten’s Musical Language,
p. 278; Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett, p. 261

61
the atonal) to no longer being capable of individual thought, and now being degraded to a

lower form of societal being, represented by the shift into tonal music. From the piano score

of the final page of this act, we see that the orchestra is built up into a frenzy (the music

spanning four staves) and right at the end, Aschenbach declares ‘I love you’ at R.F. 188. This

is a significant point in the libretto. Not only is this the moment where the protagonist

declares his paedophilic love for a boy, but is also the point where Britten’s normal position

of homosexual material in opera changes from being covert and introverted to being

extremely blatant.

I would imagine that such an admission to oneself takes a lot of effort, and this is

reflected in the build-up of the music, as seen in Figure 8. Unlike R.F. 318, the time signature

is simply four crotchet beats to the bar, yet the sense of urgency is maintained through note

values being shortened. This could almost be likened to white noise interfering in

Aschenbach’s head, as if there are so many conflicting thoughts that he desperately wants to

escape from, and the only way to do this is to admit that his infatuation is slightly more than

just that. The escape comes in the form of the silence from the orchestra as Aschenbach

sings; however the realisation of what he has just become hits him when the horns play their

pedal B and E and perfect fourth at which point Aschenbach ashamedly sings ‘love you’

quietly. It is these final four bars of the first act which cement the tonal centre of the music,

linking Aschenbach to the key of E Major. Note that the ‘tightly organised opera’ of The

Turn of the Screw is not reflected in the same way in Death in Venice.160 Britten utilises the

serial music more in the earlier work, mutating it so it runs throughout the duration of the

opera. However, in Death in Venice the serial music is slightly more obvious, even if it does

not run throughout the work.

160
Howard, P., The Turn of the Screw, p. 71

62
Figure 8: Showing the last 10 bars of Act I of Death in Venice.161

161
Britten, B., Death in Venice, p. 159

63
 Examining the end of the opera, (specifically R.F. 318 onwards) is useful to evidence

Whittall’s claims that Britten modulates between compositional techniques. Between R.F.

318 and 319, in the orchestral reduction score, there are a series of homophonic chords being

played, accompanying the Hotel Manager, who is singing to Aschenbach. From the score, we

can see the serial theme is no longer being used: the semitone intervals heard at the opening of

the first scene of Act I are not present, further confirmed by observing the relationship of the

vocal line of the music with the accompaniment. The melody suggests that the music moves

from F-sharp minor, resolving into D-flat major, via G major. However, due to the

homophonic nature of the music, a discernible melody is not heard through the orchestra, nor

is any alluded to. In order to demonstrate that there is some order in the accompaniment, I

will analyse each set of chords, which I will then convert into Pitch Class Set Theory analysis

to show whether each set of chords are related or not. Pitch Class Set Theory is a musical

analysis tool suited to atonal music, with academics frequently using the music of

Schoenberg, Webern, and Stravinsky as examples in text books on the matter. 162

My examples below (as seen in Table 5 and Appendix 2) show the orchestral

reduction for piano. The table shows each of the piano chords reduced into their prime form,

which have subsequently been labelled according to their pitch-class set as assigned by Forte.

From this analysis, we can see that seven prime form chords appear in this nine bar passage.

162
Forte, A., The Structure of Atonal Music, (London: Yale University Press, 1979)

64
Table 5: Showing Pitch Class Set Theory treatment of the chords used in the
accompaniment of R.F. 318-19 from B. Britten’s Death in Venice.

Chord163 Prime Form Notation164 Forte-name

1, 12, 14 4-23

2, 4, 10, 24 4-20

3 4-16

5, 7, 30, 34 4-14

6, 8 5-13

9 4-22

11 5-27

13 4-27

15, 33 4-26

16 4-21

17 5-21

18 4-19

19 5-34

20 5-35

163
Please see Appendix 2 for chord numbering sequence, chord 35 is not shown as it is simply reduced to a
perfect 4th , PCST requires more than one interval.
164
Notated in treble clef.

65
21 5-28

22, 26 4-18

23 4-24

25 3-4

27 3-7

28, 31 3-5

29 3-8

32 3-9

Each of the numbers in the left hand column corresponds to a chord, as labelled in Appendix

2. The middle column shows the chord translated into its prime form, in other words, each

chord is translated from its original setting, at whatever pitch this might be, and rearranged so

that each interval is as small as possible. The chord is then transposed so it starts on a C, at

which point each note is given a number from 0-11. The resulting sequence of numbers can

be cross referenced with Forte’s tables of Pitch Class Set, resulting in the chord name seen in

the right hand column. Notice how each of the chords contain notes that neighbour each other

by intervals not more than a tone apart, thus providing dissonance to the music. The

dissonance takes on different forms, for example the perfect fourth and fifth intervals in 4-23

and the G-sharp in 4-20 helps to make the chords brighter in their appearance. Conversely,

the mix of C-natural, D-natural, and D-sharp in 4-14 make the chord slightly duller in its

overall sound and resonance.

66
 Also, notice that the music does not contain any Z-sets meaning that none of these

chords share the same interval vectors. More useful than the set number, is the transposition

step in the method. It allows us to see where Britten is using the same chord over and over

again, even though it might appear transposed at a different pitch, and with different interval

gaps between the notes. Nevertheless, it shows in a raw form that Britten reuses some of his

chords in this passage. Significantly, we see that the 4-20 and 4-14 chords are used

throughout the passage of music, at the start and end. Whilst it could be argued that the

technique of analysis I have employed is not suited to this music, Evans suggests that Death

in Venice evidences Britten’s ‘eclectic conservatism embrac[ing] […] [t]welve-note devices,

[and] a recurrent tension between tonal clarity and tonal ambivalence’. 165 I would argue that

this particular passage fits into Evans’ suggestion as being a moment of ‘tonal ambivalence’.

The tonal centre of the music is confirmed by the solo bass line of the Hotel Manager, which

is rhythmically detached from the accompaniment at the start of the phrase making it almost

obsolete (hence my decision to exclude it from my formal analysis).166 Whilst there is the

suggestion of modulation from F-sharp minor to G major (as previous discussed) this is

hardly heard in the greater context of the music. Rupprecht notes, however, that from this

point onwards in the music, the hotel manager takes on E Major as a tonal identity, which is

clearly heard in at R.F. 319.167

This section of music has many other interesting features which play a role in

alluding to the nature of the music. Firstly (as shown in Appendix 2), the denominator of the

time signature measures the bars in minims, and then in the seventh bar, Britten alters this to

crotchets. This gives the impression of the music hastening on, but the sense of urgency

which is created comes from the rhythm used which gets shorter as the music progresses.

Britten starts by using minims, which change to triplet minims in bars four and five. In bar

165
Evans, J., ‘Twelve-note structures and tonal polarity’ in Mitchell, D. (Ed.), Death in Venice, p. 99
166
Although excluded, it shares common notes with the accompaniment meaning that it would have very little
effect of the results of this study.
167
Rupprecht, P., Britten’s Musical Language, p. 295

67
six he introduces crotchets, in bar eight Britten reemploys triplets but with crotchets for a bar,

and then finally in bar nine, he introduces quavers. This hastens the music as the pace

increases, assisting with the build-up of the returning tempo of Scene I into R.F. 319. The

urgency is also reflected through Britten’s use of dynamics. At the start of the passage, the

music begins pianissimo, with a ‘slow crescendo’ into the fourth bar, eventually leading to a

fortissimo on the perfect fifth E chord before R.F. 319. The urgency in the music reflects the

storyline at this point; the Hotel Manager is attempting to get his guest to leave to protect him

from the disease, but on a deeper scale, he is also singing to the audience, taking on the role of

narrator, and predicting Aschenbach’s imminent death. The tonality of the Hotel Manager’s

music here links tenuously to this, taking on the key of E Major (from the end of the first act).

This is tenuous because, up until this point, Aschenbach’s music and actions have narrated the

opera, and at this point, the manager briefly takes this part of Aschenbach’s character’s job.

In a way it is symbolic of Aschenbach’s death, by relinquishing tasks and planning for

succession.

Mervyn Cook’s chapter contextualises Death in Venice by showing how it bears

considerable links between some of Britten’s later works. 168 It shows how several of Britten’s

compositional tools from different works have been collated into his final opera. For

example, ‘unmeasured tremolo with gradual accelerando or rallentando’ which are marked

by a very specific symbol, but which also appear in the three Church Parables.169 The Prince

of the Pagodas (1957) (not an opera but rather Britten’s ballet) provided inspiration for how

Aschenbach’s infatuation for Tadzio could be conveyed on-stage, i.e., Tadzio dances around

the protagonist rather than simply replicating the action in Mann’s novella. 170 Not only was

this expressive art form used as inspiration, but Britten’s working holiday to the Far East

encapsulates his understanding of Balinese society. As Cooke argues in his essay regarding

168
Cooke, M., Britten and the Far East, pp. 225-244
169
Ibid., p. 225
170
Ibid., p. 229

68
Britten and the gamelan, dance is ‘inextricably linked’ with music in that part of the world. 171

Britten’s witnessing of this important connection of art forms is reflected by Tadzio’s dancing

in Death in Venice. However, of all the techniques that Britten recalls from his previous

works in the composition of Death in Venice, it is possibly Owen Wingrave that is the most

influential. The main impacts can be seen in two ways: the first is through the language used

in the libretto. This is partly down to Myfanwy Piper (who wrote the libretto for both), but

also down to the starting inspirational material which Britten chose to adapt. But second,

Cooke argues that Death in Venice takes considerable influence from Britten and Pears’ time

in Asia, specifically from the gamelan orchestras which they not only encountered but

received instruction on.

This is reflected most clearly through the use of percussion, specifically tuned bells.

In the introduction to this piece of work, I reflected on a quotation taken from Tony Palmer’s

film on Benjamin Britten. Whilst there is little academic value to it, it preserves the memories

and opinions of those who were closest to the composer throughout his life. As we know,

Britten suffered from major health problems, and upon completion of Death in Venice, he

underwent significant heart surgery. Afterwards, Britten employed a carer (Rita Thompson)

who recalled that before his death, Britten, Thompson, and friends flew to Venice. Not only

was Britten excited to see the city once more but specifically because he was fascinated by

hearing the bells of all the churches around the city during the day. This is reflected in this

final opera, not only through Britten’s use of instrumentation (he employs a large percussion

section requiring five percussionists), but also through his use of sonority found in the

orchestration.

An example of the sonorities that Britten employs (similarly in Peter Grimes in

Interlude I) is seen in the final passage of the opera, from R.F. 324. At this point, Aschenbach

has just stopped a potential fight between Tadzio and Jaschiu who has run off. Tadzio is left

171
Cooke, M., ‘Britten and the gamelan: Balinese influences in ‘Death in Venice’’, in Mitchell, D. (Ed.),
Benjamin Britten: Death in Venice, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987) p. 116

69
alone with Aschenbach on the beach, who decides to make an advance on the boy, realising

that this is possibly his only opportunity before he dies. Before this is possible, Tadzio is

called from off stage by the soprano and alto members of the chorus. The effect is like that of

mermaids, as the stage directions in the score direct Tadzio to walk out to sea. Aschenbach

slumps dead in his chair at R.F. 325, at which point the orchestra concludes the opera with a

slow passage marked Molto tranquillo.

From R.F. 324, the singing is accompanied by tuned percussion section, mainly by the

vibraphone. As Aschenbach dies at R.F. 325, Britten increases the orchestration by

introducing un-tuned percussion, woodwind, horns, and strings. The tuned percussion

continues to be played in a similar style to that of the previous section, which creates a

reverberating texture. The instruments which join the percussion ensemble play legato

phrases; the sonorous effect is created by the unison tutti string section. The music

successfully describes a melancholy scene; Aschenbach has died whilst trying to chase who

he believes to be his true love, despite it being slightly perverse. However there is a sense of

warmth about the music which engulfs the audience, provided by the unison strings. The

repeating resonating vibraphone adds an uneasy edge to the music, reminding the audience

that whilst all is now safe, the story has not been a happy one.

Britten’s concluding opera is full of musical devices which encompass some of the

more successful techniques he has employed throughout his operatic repertoire. It is

important to note that whilst he reuses them, he does not copy material verbatim from

previous works. Much of the music that mainstream audiences engage with is that which

employs vast orchestras and casts, possibly because they find the complex textures which are

created and the opportunity for melodic and harmonic development to be greater, thus

providing more interest to the listener. That said, it is not to be forgotten that there are pieces

of chamber music which are just as much crowd pleasers, for example Schubert’s Piano

Quintet in A Major.

70
 As I have explored, there are connections between Death in Venice and some of

Britten’s other works, specifically The Turn of the Screw for example, by his use of a tone

row. In The Turn of the Screw, we see it detached from the action on-stage, and completely

confined to the orchestral pit, as it is manipulated through a series of theme and variations.

However, in Death in Venice, the singers are much more engaged, not only with the tone row,

but also with the orchestra, making the music much more organic than the clinical treatment

of the music in The Turn of the Screw. This is evidenced in the opening gesture of the opera,

when Aschenbach presents the tone row, the orchestra not only reiterates the leading notes of

each of the three which are sung, but introduces these notes, helping to prepare the tenor for

what he is about to sing.

This development of material between works mirrors Britten’s development as a

composer. In his final work, audiences hear something which is honed and well-rounded

compared to the music heard in The Turn of the Screw. Of course, this shows Britten’s

development from composing music at his first level, (Peter Grimes) to the gamble of the

second, more experimental section in which audiences might be more receptive to new ideas

and concepts (heard through The Turn of the Screw) to the final development. This is

represented by the music in Death in Venice by mixing these two styles and techniques to

create an opera which is instantly recognisable as being composed by Britten.

71
Conclusions

As Palmer recalls in his chapter regarding Death in Venice when drawing parallels

between Britten and Wagner, Wilfred Mellors’ summary of Wagner’s Tristan are

transferrable to Britten’s Peter Grimes and Death in Venice:172 ‘The only fulfilment is that of

personal passion; his cannot be achieved except by separation from the conditions of the

material world.’173 Mellors is talking about the relationship between the opera’s protagonist

and the sea. As Palmer points out, the sea is used ‘as a symbol of nothingness’, both Grimes

and Aschenbach have significant interactions with the sea. These academics are suggesting

that the protagonist’s interaction with the sea is symbolic of their livelihood and fate. As

Palmer says, ‘the sea acts ambivalently both as Alma Mater and as aggressor or agent of

destruction.’ He suggests that ultimately we all come from nothing, and to nothing we will

return. The sea will always remain constant in our lives, and is capable of great destruction. It

reminds us not to upset the status quo of what is around us.

Mellors continues in his book to discuss Britten at length, noting that birth, boys, (and

although he does not suggest it, destruction) are common themes in all of Britten’s operatic

works, however he finds Peter Grimes to be the most poignant example of the composer’s

fascination with these subjects.174 This is epitomised most through Peter Grimes by the way

that he writes for each of the characters. He conveys the emotion of love through the way the

characters interact. In Death in Venice, (and to an extent The Turn of the Screw) the conveyed

love between boy and man is detached from other characters. Not only does this make it

more obvious to the audience, but its relevance to the storyline is lessened. The love shown

in Peter Grimes is twofold, selfless from Orford, and selfish from Grimes, making the opera

more realistic. Part of the way this effect is achieved is through Britten’s use of tonality. In

the first opera, the writing is unquestionably tonal, however the incorporation of serial music

172
Palmer, C., ‘Towards as Genealogy of Death in Venice’, in Reed, P. (Ed.), On Mahler and Britten: Essays in
Honour of Donald Mitchell on his Seventieth Birthday, (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1995) p. 218
173
Mellors, W., Caliban Reborn, (London: Gollancz, 1968) p. 36
174
Ibid., p. 163; Note that this book was published before Britten died.

72
within the two later operas helps to alter the audiences’ perception of love. Additionally,

Britten’s use of symphonic flowing melodies in Peter Grimes also assists with this insight.

It is interesting that Britten recycles not only material but also influences and

inspiration. Moreover, the material was not only reused between operas but operas subtly

reference each other. We see these relationships clearly between Peter Grimes and The Turn

of the Screw as shown when Britten references Interlude I of Peter Grimes in Act II of the

same opera, and also when he uses The Benedicite in both of these works. A further similarity

which can be observed is in the general shapes of the ‘malo’ phrase in The Turn of the Screw

and that of Ashenbach’s opening phrase to Death in Venice. As stated earlier, one was to

draw a line over the note heads, both would be seen to exhibit an upward, then downward,

followed by upward curve (similar to the mathematical plot of a cubic equation).

However there are also differences between the three works which I have discussed.

The first is that the singing (and indeed the music in general) in Peter Grimes is far more

symphonic than that of The Turn of the Screw and Death in Venice. Peter Grimes employs

sweeping melodic gestures, for example, the sea shanty which the chorus sing at the opening

of Act I, which is interspersed with key characters greeting each other. This contrasts against

the less flowing melodies of The Turn of the Screw and Death in Venice. For example, in The

Turn of the Screw, Scene I enters into a completely ‘free recitative’ which is segmented by

frequent rests, creating the illusion of doubt, a hard and rickety coach journey, and adds to the

uncomfortable nature of the storyline.175 Moreover, Death in Venice continues to exhibit

passages of singing which appear to be more said than sung. Britten has created this effect by

keeping the conversations between characters to a minimum, keeping them spaced out (i.e.

there are brief rests between one participant ending their sentence before the reply comes),

keeping the rhythms short, and spacing the notes with wide intervals. This creates the effect

of a conversation which is more akin to a spoken dialogue rather than a song; moreover it

175
Britten, B., The Turn of the Screw, p. 6

73
assists in making the love between the characters feel more clinical than that of Peter Grimes.

We can see further evidence of Britten’s intentions for this in the way that he has beamed

notes together in the vocal parts of Death in Venice (and to an extent, in The Turn of the

Screw). There are sections of music in Death in Venice where Aschenbach sings a

semiquaver passage, and instead of baring them together in groups of four (as would be

conventional), Britten keeps each semiquaver separate. Yet he clearly identifies when the

music’s texture should be much more flowing and smooth. For example, the final bar of R.F.

126 of Death in Venice clearly shows the difference between the two styles (See Figure 9).

Figure 9: Showing the final bar of R.F. 126 of Death in Venice to highlight the difference in Britten’s beaming of semiquaver
passages.176

It stands to reason that listening to an extract of an opera will leave the listener without

an understanding of what the music is about. An extract is not significant enough to

successfully convey what the opera is about, who the characters are, what the major themes of

the music are, how do the orchestra and chorus interact et cetera. The same can be said for

Britten’s opera, but to a greater extent; more often than not, Britten’s music cannot be listened

to in short snippets or examples to understand the beauty of it. This is because Britten’s

operatic works are made up of short sections of music which accurately describe and

accompany the action as it is happening on-stage. However, the music often changes, so to

get an accurate impression of the work, it has to be listened to in greater lengths. As Howard

asserts, ‘the most characteristic aspect of Britten’s approach to the music is his concern to

176
Britten, B., Death in Venice, p. 107

74
express drama in terms of sheer physical sound.’177 In other words, the music should not only

accompany the action on-stage, but also explain it. In terms of defining a narrative, we have

seen this through the Sea Interludes used in Peter Grimes, but we see it later in a different

form in Death in Venice.178 The method in which the music conveys the action is changed in

the later operas (perhaps something that Howard misses as her book was published before

Britten’s final operas were released), as the libretto has a stronger narrative role which is

emphasised by the Sprechstimme- like singing.

Further to the musical similarities, this essay touches on the similarities between the

operas which extend deeper than the music, and into the composer’s life. As Brett asserts, ‘it

is to the homosexual condition that Peter Grimes is addressed’ whilst discussing the erotic

implications of the opera on 1945 audiences. 179 Hadlock argues that Brett’s paper pioneered

the ‘reading [of] Britten’s damaged and persecuted hero as a sympathetic and critical

evocation of the homosexual in a homophobic society’, thus leading academics to consider

Britten’s possible intentional portrayal of himself through Grimes.180 Brett’s paper has

catalysed research into similar themes throughout Britten’s repertoire, specifically the operatic

works. I have demonstrated this not only in Peter Grimes, but also in The Turn of the Screw

through the use of language, and in Death in Venice mapping the suggestion of Britten’s

fondness of adolescent boys.

My research has sought to discover the similarities and differences between three of

Britten’s operatic works. I have demonstrated Peter Grimes is used by scholars as a bench

mark for Britten compositions, often judging other works against it. It is often considered by

many to be the most successful and influential opera in Britten’s repertoire. Moreover, I have

analysed how Britten’s use of interludes throughout the works are of importance, not only to

177
Howard, P., The Operas of Benjamin Britten, (London: Barrie and Rockliff, 1969) p. 220
178
Commentators tend to note Interlude II as being of significance, often citing it as some connotation of ‘The
Madness Interlude’ suggesting that it shows Grimes at one of his most vulnerable moments in t he opera, as he
questions his feelings for Ellen.
179
Brett, P., ‘Britten and Grimes’ Musical Times, 118/1618 (Dec. 1977) p. 999
180
Hadlock, H., ‘Opera and Gender Studies’ in Till, N. (Ed.), Opera Studies, p. 263

75
the cast and audience, but more importantly by the methods that they connect the on-stage

action with the opera’s setting, thereby reinforcing Crabbe’s poetry. My analysis shows that

as Interlude I progresses, the music stagnates around the key of A Major. This rotation

around A Major is indicative to the ‘malo’ theme heard in The Turn of the Screw and also the

first half of the 12-note-row used in Death in Venice. Whilst deviation from this key is

frequent, moving away to provide harmonic interest in the lower strings and brass, they

always returns to A Major. Further to this, I have discussed the relevance of Britten’s use of

the tritone in this music, and how it reflects the natures of the characters involved in the

music.

My subsequent research into The Turn of the Screw shows experimentation with

chamber ensembles. Comparing Peter Grimes and Death in Venice against The Turn of the

Screw is at first an easy task, as it is clear to see the differences between the music, for

example, Britten’s first and last operas employ large symphony orchestras, whereas The Turn

of the Screw employs a significantly smaller orchestra. Whilst this is of some benefit to the

overall performance making it more intimate, the overall textures are disappointingly thinner.

Of more significance is Britten’s choice to use serial techniques in this opera (a technique

which is also heard in Death in Venice) to form a set of theme and variations which run in

tandem with the opera, interspersed between each scene. Whilst the variations do not appear

to have any relevance to the action, they are short enough to retain the audience’s attention.

Much of the language could be construed as lurid to those that understand Latin. However, to

the innocent ear, it is nothing more than a clever rhyme to recall various Latin vocabularies.

Despite this, Britten and Piper’s decision to include similar words in Act II, leads me to

believe that the primary inclusion of masculine words relating to sexual innuendos encourages

me to conclude that the choice of vocabulary was intentional. This adds to Howard’s claim

that this opera is Britten’s ‘most tightly organised’. 181 As discussed, Britten represents

181
Howard, P., The Turn of the Screw, p. 71

76
different characters by assigning each of them home keys and tonal centres. This is seen at

the conclusion of The Turn of the Screw when Miles dies, after renouncing Quint, symbolised

through the decision to retain A Major, and not A-flat Major. Furthermore, I have shown that

the organisation of tonal centres is highly sophisticated by way of Evans’ comprehensive

research.

My Final chapter addressing Britten’s Death in Venice has shown that away from the

erudite organisation of The Turn of the Screw, the composer still managed to weave complex

musical elements into his music. As I have made plain, The Turn of the Screw is completely

different from the music of Peter Grimes. The earlier opera is full of sweeping melodic

statements, which perfectly describe the characters and scenery, whereas the later works are

more clinical in their treatment of the music. In Death in Venice, Britten attempts to recover

some of the thick textures created in Peter Grimes by employing a large orchestra,

particularly in the percussion section. Furthermore, Britten only employs the serial technique

for a short section at the start of the opera. By the time the opera concludes Act I, all trace of

the note-row has gone. My Pitch Class Set Theory analysis of R.F. 318 shows that despite the

‘modal resolution’ there are some elements of tonal obscurity. 182 My analysis shows that

through these obscure moments, there is some harmonic progression. Further to this, it also

shows that despite the pitch of the chord, Britten uses seven chords more than once through

the analysed passage, of significance are 4-14, 4-20, and 4-23. Despite this, I have shown

strong links between Death in Venice and The Turn of the Screw, through the relationships

between the two note-rows.

I believe my work demonstrates that Britten’s dedication to serious composition is

reflected throughout the three works which I have discussed. In each specific case, I have

demonstrated that the style of composition has altered, in some cases dramatically. However,

although there have been significant advances in style between the pieces, there are also

182
Whittall, A., The Music of Britten & Tippett, p. 261

77
elements contained in each opera which references not only Britten’s works discussed here,

but also work of other composers. In each case, I have shown that Britten’s compositional

decisions have enabled him to effectively convey each of the texts which he used as

inspiration to help form a synopsis.

Each of the considered operas shows that despite altering the way he chose to

compose with differing methods, Britten effectively managed to convey emotions to the

audience. His dedication to British opera is seen clearly progressing, as the complexity in

each work grows. Britten’s use of contrasting compositional complexities is just one of a set

of defining features which make him a significant composer in British history. He should not

be forgotten, for his contribution to music’s repository on behalf of Britain is substantial, for

which we would be poorer without.

78
Discovery

Appendices

Appendix 1: Table showing the Latin used in M. Piper’s libretto for B. Britten’s The
Turn of the Screw and the English Translation via various sources. 183

Where English Translation

Adams, J. N., The
Act/ Who Latin
Bar Google Latin Sexual
Scene
Vocabulary
I/VI 7 Miles Amnis Stream/torrent -
Axis/axle/whole
I/VI 7 Miles Axis sky/polar/region/plank/ -
board
I/VI 7 Miles Caulis Stem Penis
Mount/mountain/heights
I/VI 7 Miles Collis -
/cliff
Mount/mountain/heights
I/VI 7 Flora Collis -
/cliff
I/VI 8 Miles Clunis Haunch/buttock -
I/VI 8 Miles Crinis Hair/long hair -
I/VI 8 Miles Fascis Bundle/pack -
Pair of bellows/leather
I/VI 8 Miles Follis money bag/puffed out Scrotum
cheeks
Pair of bellows/leather
I/VI 8 Flora Follis money bag/puffed out -
cheeks
I/VI 9 Miles Fustis Club/staff -
I/VI 9 Miles Ignis Fire -
I/VI 9 Miles Orbis World -
I/VI 9 Miles Ensis Sword -
I/VI 9 Flora Ensis Sword -
I/VI 10 Miles Panis Bread -
I/VI 10 Miles Piscis Fish -
I/VI 10 Miles Postis Falling -
I/VI 10 Miles Mensis Month -
I/VI 10 Flora Mensis Month -
I/VI 11 Miles Torris Brand -
Nail/claw/hook/talon/ho
I/VI 11 Miles Unguis -
of/clamp
I/VI 11 Miles Canalis Canada -
I/VI 11 Flora -nalis ~nada -
I/VI 12 Miles Vectis Wight -
I/VI 12 Miles Vermis Worm -
I/VI 12 Miles Natalis Christmas -
I/VI 12 Flora -talis Such (Adjective) -
I/VI 13 Miles Sanguis Bloodshed/carnage -

183
Translations completed by the author.

79
 massacre/
I/VI 13 Miles Pulvis Dust -
I/VI 13 Miles Cucumis Cucumber Penis
I/VI 13 Flora Cumis Cumae -
I/VI 14 Miles Lapis Stone -
I/VI 14 Miles Casses Net -
I/VI 14 Miles Manes Ghosts/dead -
I/VI 14 Miles Glis Rat -
I/VI 14 Flora Glis Rat -
I/VI 15 Flora Mis The most -
Controversy/contention/
I/VI 15 Flora Lis -
quarrel/strife
I/VI 15 Flora Guis Blood -
I/VI 15 Flora Nis Nisus -
I/VI 15 Flora Ris -
I/VI 16 Flora Tis s -
36-38,
41-2,
I/VI 45-7, Miles Malo Evil (Verb)
50-1,
60-5

II/IV 8-10 Miles Malo Evil (Verb)

153-5,
II/IV 158-9, Governess Malo Evil (Verb)
164-9

Table showing the Latin used in The Turn of the Screw, the point at which it appears, who is

singing, the translation for the word (using Google Translate), and the translation for the word

in J N Adams’ book, The Latin Sexual Vocabulary. Entries in italics show Flora’s echo of

Miles’ singing.

80
Appendix 2: Showing R.F. 318-9 from B. Britten’s Death in Venice in closed score form.

‘Bass Solo’ refers to the Hotel Manager. 184

184
Chord numbering shown in red as added by the author, transcribed by the author from: Britten, B., Death in
Venice, p. 259

81
List of Figures

Figure 1: Showing the cross rhythms the woodwind and strings against the brass in Interlude I

of Peter Grimes......................................................................................................................... 36

Figure 2: Showing the ‘malo’ theme used in The Turn of the Screw. ...................................... 41

Figure 3: Showing the first nine bars (to show the 12 note-row) of the Theme used in The

Turn of the Screw...................................................................................................................... 48

Figure 4: Showing the 12 note-row from Britten’s score compared to the row and source

published in Whittall, A., Britten & Tippett. ............................................................................ 49

Figure 5: Showing Evans’ analysis of Britten’s theme used in The Turn of the Screw, and how

the subsequent variations utilise it. ........................................................................................... 49

Figure 6: Showing the first nine bars of Death in Venice to highlight the 12 note tone row and

the orchestral reiteration in the accompaniment. ...................................................................... 57

Figure 7: Showing bars 10-23 of Death in Venice to highlight the 12 note tone row and the

orchestral reiteration in the accompaniment in the retrograde. ................................................ 58

Figure 8: Showing the last 10 bars of Act I of Death in Venice. .............................................. 63

Figure 9: Showing the final bar of R.F. 126 of Death in Venice to highlight the difference in

Britten’s beaming of semiquaver passages. .............................................................................. 74

82
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88