…with the sound of music. Hugh Philpott takes an orchestral bus journey from Eastbourne to Brighton

Landscape, and more especially a sense of place, has influenced the arts for centuries, and not just the mediums of painting and photography. Take classical orchestral music. The Hebrides overture and ‘the Scottish’ symphony say it on the tin. But what about a classical playlist for our own region? What of Sussex? My mission is clear: a melodic bus journey beckons, along the coast, from Eastbourne to Brighton, listening to a playlist inspired by the landscapes and seascapes on view through the window. Thanks to the marvels of modern technology, I can compile and listen to this while on the move.

There is nothing better than a visit to the seaside just as the year is properly waking up. It’s a crisp bright late winter’s day as I start my journey. The sea is sparkling and the seagulls are circling, rising on the thermals. I’m glad they’ve found theirs. I haven’t and it’s freezing. I have just been to Eastbourne’s elegant Grand Hotel, and met a member of their concierge staff, the black-cab-driver equivalent of the hospitality industry, who proves to be all seeing and all knowing. Let’s call him ‘Ted’.

‘Yes sir, that’s right, Claude Debussy was here in 1905. He stayed in the actual Debussy Suite. He was on his holidays. He was getting away from the women in Paris. You know, the wife and the mistress. Oh, and he took all his meals in the room, staring out to sea while smoking.’ The details poured out. Too much for now. This was at the level of an eyewitness account. We know that Debussy did indeed spend time in Eastbourne at the Grand in the summer of 1905, when he worked on the final drafts of his orchestral sketch La Mer. It is well accepted that the piece is a seminal stepping stone in the development of orchestral music, often regarded as one of the finest examples of Impressionist music (though Debussy rejected the term). It bridges the late Romantic period and early Modernism, and it was born right here in Eastbourne. Of all of my playlist choices this is the one which is never far away from the popular orchestral repertoire. Evoking the essence of nature with unparalleled imagination and craft, it’s a serious listen: if La Mer had any catchy melodies, Ted would surely have whistled them to me.

I continue along Eastbourne Promenade on foot, then make my way through the Devonshire quarter, a juicy first track for my new Sussex Landscape orchestral playlist in the bag. I am taking the Number 12 Bus to Brighton. Twelve is also the number of different tones used in Western classical music. I like this.

The Number 12 route from Eastbourne to Brighton is called the ‘Coaster’ for good reason – a chance to spend 90 minutes along one of the most picturesque stretches of coastline in England. It is particularly good up front, on the top deck. By the time the rows of neat Victorian villas and less attractive modern retirement blocks recede, and the open country starts to appear, I am already thinking of where to go next with my playlist. My bus journey will take me right past Friston parish church where Frank Bridge’s mortal remains are buried. Sussex runs through those bones like a stick of rock. Bridge was born in Brighton, but perhaps it was the composer’s time at Friston in the 1920s which most influenced his composition. The Downs and the sea cast their spell over Mr and Mrs Bridge while they holidayed in the area with artist friend Majorie Fass. They decided to settle there, building a house, which they called ‘Friston Field’. It was the perfect spot: not far from the coast, but at the same time looking out to the Downs. Here, Bridge was inspired to write one of his most famous symphonic works, a sort of nature poem, which he called at first On Friston Down, but soon renamed Enter Spring. A mastery of orchestration, impressionistic tendencies, and evolving harmonic language, the piece is a vivid tone poem that captures the renewal and vitality of spring in the Sussex countryside. It is perfect for track number two, taking me past Cuckmere Haven, where a crowd of international tourists and earnest walkers get on the bus.

Since my ticket allows me to break my journey, I get off at Seaford, to explore the background to number three on my playlist, the piece which gave me the idea to start this whole endeavour. A decade or so ago, on the South Bank, I heard the talented Chineke Orchestra play a short but evocative piece called Sussex Landscape, by an almost forgotten, but once popular, composer called Avril Coleridge-Taylor. It’s a haunting suite in three movements. I searched for ages and didn’t rediscover it until the Chineke included it on an album of works by the composer’s father, the better-known Samuel Coleridge-Taylor.

Avril lived for many years in Buxted, in a house with a view looking south towards the Downs, giving her a direct sense of her landscape. She spent her final years in Seaford, moving to Stone’s House on Crouch Lane, which then served as a care home. There is a blue plaque commemorating her stay. The piece is defined by sweeping melodic lines and grand orchestral landscapes. A good use of crashing cymbals helps evoke sea against the craggy rock of spots like Splash Point, towards the east before Seaford Head. This work portrays the tranquil aspects of Sussex as well as the elementally turbulent. Today it is sunny and peaceful. It feels a happy place and I see some evidence of early spring flowers peeping through. Walking further, I take a detour to the seafront. I look east and take in the dramatic cliffs. It’s no wonder this land inspired her.

I walk back through town and catch the next Number 12, enjoying Avril’s suite through my earphones. A mature sound full of dark majesty, with rolling lentos and largos, over too quickly. What’s next? The bus crosses the River Ouse and up the hill out of Newhaven through Peacehaven, Telscombe Cliffs, Saltdean and Rottingdean, offering a view of the sea.

This inspires a return to Frank Bridge. This time, something from his ‘Steady Eddie’ English School period. The Sea is arguably his second most famous orchestral piece. It’s lush and harmonic and has that instant gratification of resolved Romantic English music. The finale is pure cinema.

I am aware The Sea is often compared to Debussy’s La Mer. Certainly, Bridge’s individual voice blends Romantic expressiveness with Impressionistic nuance, but it doesn’t even come close to Debussy. It owes more to the past than the future. The cyclic nature of its themes gives the work a cohesive narrative, a recognisable story, unlike Debussy’s work of almost the same vintage. But there is room for both and so I want to include it.

The towering schoolhouses of Roedean now dominate the landscape, signalling we’ve nearly arrived at Brighton. My head has been filled with impressionistic tonal landscapes and waves of romantic strings: I feel the need for something busier and more expressive for the seaside city. I have chosen Sir Malcolm Arnold’s Sussex Overture to wrap up my playlist. Always a good bet when looking for good use of brass and percussion.

Arnold is the most recent of my composers. He died in 2006. I had the honour of meeting him when I was working in Oman in 2002. Sir Malcolm stayed sometimes during the winter season, with his companion and assistant Anthony Day, at Al Bustan Palace Hotel Muscat. At the time I was Her Majesty’s Charge d’Affaires. In that capacity I accepted an invitation, received from Day, to join them for lunch. I was surprised, but curious and so I accepted. I knew of the great man’s unfortunate mental history and advancing years, but Day reassured me lunch was to be a simple affair, as far as is possible in a six-star hotel.

The private dining-room turned out to be part of the Maestro’s suite. It was beautifully appointed, oozing Arabic elegance and oriental luxury. Suddenly one of two connecting doors burst open.

‘There you are. Is this where we’re eating?’ The great Sir Malcolm Arnold stood, unsteadily, and stared, ferociously. A young Baluchi carer supported him from behind, with most of Sir Malcolm’s clothing flapping in his free hand.

Arnold was clearly not yet ready. In a flash and in the spirit of someone well used to such behaviour, Day deftly manoeuvred his charge back out of the room, but not before Sir Malcolm addressed me with a single word: ‘Nice!’

He didn’t join us for lunch. I didn’t see him again. That is my connection with the late great Sir Malcolm Arnold.

Arnold’s Sussex Overture, represents his early orchestral style. It blends lyricism with strong rhythmic vitality and rich orchestral colour. There are hints of the symphonies and concert overtures still to come, where he made the fusion between his moods more melodically inventive and pronounced. It is a dynamic and uplifting work which captures the spirit of Sussex without losing Arnold’s distinctive voice.

It’s time for me to wave goodbye to the Number 12. I have reached my destination. I’m in North Street, Brighton. I want to finish listening to my playlist at the Brighton Dome. It’s just a short walk to the historic concert venue. Originally a very fancy stabling for royal horses, now it is often hailed as the home of orchestral music in Sussex.

I set out today to discover an orchestral landscape which has a ‘unique sense of place, and of Englishness’, in order to complement the Sussex landscape. Walking back through the Pavilion Gardens, Arnold’s energy builds in my ears toward a rousing conclusion. The full-throated soundscape of the orchestra inhabits this coda, creating a jubilant final triumphant finale in brass and drum rolls. The sun is still shining. The journey from the Grand in Eastbourne to the Dome in Brighton, excluding planned detours, has taken me just over 90 minutes. My playlist, excluding pauses, has taken just over 90 minutes. There’s magic in numbers. Like one of Arnold’s Oscar-winning film scores, the soundtrack of my journey through this iconic slice of Sussex is in the can.

Listen to the ROSA Magazine ‘Sussex landscape’ playlist on Spotify (Google URL: rb.gy/jn75bi)
i. La Mer, trois esquisses symphoniques, L. 109: I De l’aube à midi sur la mer, Claude Debussy, conducted by Sir Mark Elder, Hallé Orchestra
ii. Enter Spring and The Sea, Frank Bridge, conducted
by James Judd, New Zealand Symphony Orchestra
iii. Sussex Landscape, Op. 27, Avril Coleridge-Taylor,
conducted by Roderick Cox, Chineke! Orchestra
iv. The Sea, Frank Bridge, conducted by James Judd,
New Zealand Symphony Orchestra
v. Sussex Overture, composed and conducted by Sir Malcolm
Arnold, London Philharmonic Orchestra

The illustration is a limited-edition art print from the People and Places: Revelations of Love series. Buy alej’s prints from alejez.com (Eagle-eyed readers may spot that alej has used Enid Marx patterns on the jackets.)