Early life and rise to fame
Walton was born into a musical family, in
Oldham, Lancashire, England. At the age of ten, Walton was accepted as a chorister at
Christ Church Cathedral in
Oxford, and he subsequently entered
Christ Church, Oxford as an undergraduate at the unusually early age of sixteen. He was largely self-taught as a composer (poring over new scores in the
Ellis Library, notably those by Stravinsky,
Debussy, Sibelius and
Roussel), but received some tutelage from
Hugh Allen, the cathedral organist. At Oxford Walton befriended two poets —
Sacheverell Sitwell and
Siegfried Sassoon — who would prove influential in publicizing his music. Little of Walton's juvenilia survives, but the choral anthem
A Litany, written when he was just fifteen, exhibits striking harmonies and voice-leading which was more advanced than that of many older contemporary composers in Britain. Perhaps the most daring harmonic features of the work are the pungent augmented-chord inflections, notably in the striking final cadence.
Walton left Oxford without a degree in
1920 for failing
Responsions, to lodge in
London with the literary Sitwell siblings — Sacheverell,
Osbert and
Edith — as an 'adopted, or elected, brother'. Through the Sitwells, Walton became familiar with many of the most important figures in British music between the World Wars, particularly his fellow composer,
Constant Lambert, and also in the arts, notably
Noel Coward, Lytton Strachey, Rex Whistler, Peter Quennell, Cecil Beaton and others. Walton's first reputation was one of notoriety, built on his ground-breaking musical adaptation of Edith Sitwell's
Façade poems. The
1923 first public performance of the jazz-influenced
Façade resulted in Walton being branded an avant-garde modernist (the critic
Ernest Newman described him thus: 'as a musical joker he is a jewel of the first water'), though the first performances stimulated a considerable amount of controversy. An early
string quartet gained only slight international recognition, including a performance at the
1923 festival of the
International Society for Contemporary Music in
Salzburg, with a much appreciative
Alban Berg in attendance.
During the 1920s, Walton made a modest income playing piano at jazz clubs, but spent most of his time composing in the Sitwells' attic. The orchestral
overture Portsmouth Point (which he dedicated to Sassoon) was the first work to point toward his eventual accomplishments, including a strong rhythmic drive, extensive syncopation and a dissonant but predominantly tonal harmonic language. It was the
Viola Concerto of 1929, however, which catapulted him to the forefront of British classical music, its bittersweet melancholy proving quite popular; it remains a cornerstone of the solo
viola repertoire. This success was followed by equally acclaimed works: the massive choral
cantata Belshazzar's Feast (
1931), the
Symphony No. 1 (1935), the coronation march
Crown Imperial (
1937), and the
Violin Concerto (
1939). Each of these works remains firmly entrenched in the repertoire today. Though
Belshazzar's Feast is a cornerstone of the repertoire of any up-and-coming choral society, the First Symphony remains a challenge even to professional orchestras without generous rehearsal time to devote to it.
The
Symphony No. 1 (written 1931-35) had an unusual genesis: Walton was experiencing a tempestuous relationship with
Imma von Doernberg, who finally left him for the Hungarian doctor
Tibor Csato. The turbulent emotions and high-voltage energy of the Symphony were the fruit of the events surrounding its conception, with an eloquent, dramatic first movement, a stinging, malicious Scherzo and a thoroughly melancholic slow movement. But the finale is totally different in outlook, being almost
Elgarian in its ceremonial jubilation (although the two fugal sections clearly nod towards
Hindemith). It is evident to the listener that a cloud has lifted, and this is explained by the fact that Walton became stuck after the slow movement. His new relationship with
Alice Wimborne provided the musical impetus and inspiration for the last movement — although he still dedicated the Symphony as a whole to Imma von Doernberg. In musical terms, the work is a landmark of
English composition and represents the peak of Walton's symphonic thinking. The two composers in favour in 1930s
England were
Beethoven and
Sibelius, advocated by
Constant Lambert in his book
Music Ho!. Walton cleverly draws on both sources: the first movement is written in Beethovenian sonata form, and the developmental procedures clearly derive from
Beethoven (almost 'beating the themes to death'). But around this skeletal frame, the movement is shot through with smaller
Sibelius-like motifs (such as the opening horn call) which run throughout the movement and bind it together. The thematic rigour and shattering emotional power of the movement — and the Symphony as a whole — may be attributed to this unique method of musical construction.