The composer Stephen Oliver would have been 60 this year. Sadly his death in 1992 cut short a career already rich in achievement, but richer still in potential. A new book, Friendships in Constant Repair, marks this anniversary, and its range of contributors – including Jonathan Dove, Tim Rice, Simon Callow and Jane Glover – is a measure of the breadth of Stephen's talents and the warmth of his friendships.
He was a prolific composer. He wrote some 50 operas, including mini-operas for children and full-scale works in the grandest tradition; Timon of Athens, a commission from English National Opera was the last and greatest of these. He also loved words, and was a brilliant communicator and writer. He generally wrote his own texts, though his collaboration with Tim Rice on the musical Blondel was a resounding success. He honoured St Paul's Girls' School in London, when I was its director of music, with a chance to collaborate in recreating his Christmas opera Slippery Soules. The girls were invited to contribute text, but in practice he used only a fraction of their work, which he found too artful – though the students' texts he did retain showed his unerring ear for the genuinely memorable phrase. This was typical of Stephen; though very clever himself, he preferred simplicity of utterance to clever wordplay. Slippery Soules is a major work in the tradition of Noye's Fludde, and deserves much more regular performance.
He was himself a fine performer. He presented the BBC series Understanding Opera and played, sung and spoke with equal skill in Radio 4's Stop the Week. He also acted, appearing as Hans Richter in Tony Palmer's legendary Wagner film.
He was a man with an extraordinary range of knowledge and interest. He had a quick, sharp wit, yet underneath was an exceptional capacity for friendship and kindness. He was a passionate socialist and lived out his principles in his life. When I raised the question of a commission fee for Slippery Soules, he immediately told me to give it to Crisis. His generosity to his friends, both in terms of time and material, was legendary. His legacy can still be heard in the music of Jonathan Dove, this year's commissioned composer for the Last Night of the Proms, to whom Stephen was a long-term and supportive mentor.
His early death was a tragedy, and a particularly intense one since he did not live to see either the widespread acceptance of homosexuality or the rapidly improved treatments for Aids, which came in the next decade. Of course, a life so full of achievement and friendship can scarcely be construed as a failure, but the "what ifs" are as potent as those of Mozart and Schubert. I do not believe that Stephen was as great a composer as either, but he shared their extraordinary facility and imagination. His last real dramatic work, written for the Batignano opera festival, was L'oca del Cairo. Here he collaborated with Mozart, intermingling his own music with the unfinished work of its first composer. The two styles sit side by side as though made for each other, and there are marvellous transitions between the two. That alone would be an impressive epitaph for any composer.
Details of performances of Stephen's music: stephenoliver.org. Friendships in Constant Repair, by Ruth and James Oliver, is published by Matador.
Comments (…)
Sign in or create your Guardian account to join the discussion