Making the social rounds in London late in 1898, Delius' attempts to generate interest in his work proved slow going, lightened by the occasional discovery of a sympathetic spirit. "What a rotten life I lead here!" he wrote to his companion Jelka Rosen. "What a city! What people! No wonder Nietzsche went mad." While there is no record of Nietzsche ever having visited London, the philosopher was much on Delius' mind. A December 19 letter to Jelka provides a rare self-portrait—"Mrs. Joshua was a great disappointment—a pretentious stupid woman spouting morals, philosophy, political economy in one breath—no artist and arrogant as hell—I came to loggerheads with her over Nietzsche. She is a disciple of Schopenhauer and Wagner to a degree which approaches idiocy—I don't suppose anyone ever spoke to her as frankly as I did, and she no doubt expected something quite different. She seems to be surrounded by a worshipping clique, you know I am not of that race." Among them was English harpsichordist Violet Gordon Woodhouse (1872-1948), whom Delius found "a very musical and charming woman." The acquaintance was maintained. Now a composer becoming famous through Beecham's championship, he was in London again in 1908 for the premiere of Brigg Fair, led by Granville Bantock, where "...I met Mrs. Woodhouse at the Albert Hall looking as pretty and artistic as ever." By the end of the Great War, Delius' reputation was secure, though in it aftermath his German royalties were still frozen, scores of his works and performing materials were scarce, the usually generous Beecham was in financial difficulties, and Delius was once more scrambling to secure paying performances of his works. Through the same era, Arnold Dolmetsch's revival of old instruments made the harpsichord fashionable—Ravel, Richard Strauss, and Busoni (among others) wrote for it—though Delius' Dance for harpsichord owes nothing to faddishness and was inspired by his continued friendship with Woodhouse, to whom it is dedicated. 1919 was an uncharacteristically fallow year—apart from sketching one of his most popular songs, Avant que tu ne t'en ailles (to a poem by Verlaine), the Dance for harpsichord was Delius' only completed work, though its spare two pages essay one of those blithesome minor miracles that he was capable of at all stages of his career, and which belie the usual sort of generalizations, as winsome melody playing through piquant harmonic shifts on nearly every beat evoke a world of faery.

© Adrian Corleonis, All Music Guide