The conductor Vernon Handley, who has died aged 77, was one of the finest masters of his craft and a tireless champion of British music. His recordings include much by Edward Elgar; the complete cycles of symphonies by Charles Stanford, Granville Bantock, Arnold Bax, Ralph Vaughan Williams, Malcolm Arnold and Robert Simpson; and a great deal by Frederick Delius, Rutland Boughton, Arthur Bliss, EJ Moeran and William Walton.
Born in Enfield, north London, Vernon George Handley disliked both of his first names and always used the nickname Tod, given to him as a baby because he toddled along with his toes turned inwards. His Welsh father had been a tenor at Llandaff Cathedral, and though his Irish mother was a piano teacher, Tod was largely self-taught. After attending the local grammar school and national service, he went to Balliol College, Oxford, where he read English philology. He went on to study in London at the Guildhall School of Music, where his performing instrument was the double bass.
However, his chief mentor was Sir Adrian Boult. He wrote to Boult out of the blue and they became friends, with Boult taking the younger man on as his assistant. As a result, Tod learned restraint, that the conductor's gestures should be for the orchestra only, not the public. Indeed Tod's podium behaviour was even less demonstrative than that of Sir Adrian. In a Handley concert there was little to watch, but everything to hear. Tod's lack of showmanship impeded the advancement of his career: he used to quote Joshua Reynolds to the effect that great art should never be ostentatious.
His features were unimpressive and his hand and arm movements meant little to the audience, but everything to orchestras, who habitually gave him everything they had got. I have seen orchestras applaud him as he came on for the first rehearsal of a concert. I have also seen orchestras give him two lots of applause at the end, a rare accolade.
Tod was utterly reliable. He could steer the orchestra safely through the trickiest time changes and difficult entries, always, at the same time, probing the music to its depths. However, at the beginning of his career it was sometimes different. At one of his first concerts with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (RPO), its first bassoon, Gwydion Brooke, equally known for his wonderful playing and his baiting of conductors, started to give Tod a bad time. After a few sorties, Tod stopped the orchestra and said: "Mr Brooke, please don't bother to intimidate me. I'm scared stiff already." Game and set to Handley!
He could always find a quick answer, but did not always advance his career by answering back somebody in power whom he found unsympathetic. When he met William Glock for the first time, the BBC head of music and boss of the Proms spoke deprecatingly of Tod's predilection for the music of Vaughan Williams, Delius and Bax. Quick as a flash, Tod said: "Hum me the tunes you don't like." There were no more Proms for him until Glock retired in 1972 and Robert Ponsonby took his place, persuading Tod to conduct the Last Night in 1985.
The downside of that concert was that Tod had to accompany Shura Cherkassky in the Gershwin Piano Concerto. Cherkassky was famous for his brilliant virtuoso playing, but also for going his own way, capriciously ignoring what had been decided at rehearsals. After the performance, Ponsonby politely asked the pianist and conductor what they would like to perform in any future Prom. Shura said: "What about doing the Rubinstein [Anton Rubinstein's Fourth Piano Concerto in D minor]?", to which Tod replied: "Oh, for my part, I hoped we might do a good performance of the Gershwin."
Tod had several hobbies. He was a keen bird-watcher and photographer, and a competent carpenter. One of his sons cherishes a dining-room table that Tod made from yew. He was married three times: by Barbara Black he had a son and daughter (a second son died at the age of one); by Victoria Parry-Jones he had a son, and a daughter named after one of Bax's tone poems, Fand (Tod scotched the idea that the next child would be called Tintagel); and with his third wife, Catherine Newby, a flautist, another son. The marriages ended in divorce, and he is survived by the five children.
Tod pranged several cars, but usually emerged without a scratch; usually but not always. On one occasion in recent years he came on to the platform of the Royal Festival Hall on crutches. His health, however, was dogged by a recurring kidney ailment, sometimes serious enough to force him to cancel engagements.
Tod had a full career. At first he was often called upon to deputise for other ailing conductors, but gradually he built up working arrangements with the big orchestras in London and further afield. He conducted all over the world, notably in Australia, winning countless well-deserved awards and prizes for his recordings. Though he surely deserved a knighthood, he had to be content with a CBE, in 2004.
From 1962 to 1983, he directed the Guildford Philharmonic Orchestra, and he worked a lot with the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra (guest conductor from 1961 onwards); the RPO (guest conductor 1961-94, then associate conductor, last appearing with them in a programme of Holst, Delius and Vaughan Williams in February); the Ulster Orchestra (principal conductor 1985-89, conductor laureate 2003); and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra (principal guest conductor, 1989-95, then conductor emeritus).
His repertoire was vast, although it was not based on Mozart and Haydn. He disliked Beethoven, and he was not fond of Mahler or Bruckner. His Brahms was fine and deep, and in 1984 he made a wonderful recording of the Elgar Violin Concerto with Nigel Kennedy and the London Philharmonic Orchestra.
His forte was that span of English music from Stanford through to Walton and beyond, and those who heard him in that repertoire will not forget the passion, lyricism and sheer truth that he brought to it. We shall not forget him, because he has left us such marvellous recordings of the music he did best.
Marie-Claire Doris writes: Tod had the most fantastic sense of humour, and I always enjoyed the glint in his eye. As a BBC producer in Belfast, I learned from him about the importance - and indeed the art - of performance. He built on the architecture of each work and communicated every nuance, from the very first beat until he finally released his baton. As a result, he was not always keen on BBC retakes, pointing out that the aim was for a great performance, and that a performance should not be forsaken so that a bar in the middle might be slightly "improved".
My very first orchestral recording session was with Tod. I was petrified, but he was a gentleman to a raw, new producer. I now realise that he carried me through, but he did not make an issue of my inexperience, asking me for my opinion and encouraging me throughout. The resulting recording of Moeran's Symphony in G minor was of course superb, the Ulster Orchestra responding totally.
Even though he suffered ill health, Tod always seemed young. He had a very youthful passion for life. He would phone out of the blue, telling me that he wanted to record all of the Liszt tone poems with "my orchestra" - the Ulster Orchestra - or suggesting that it was now time for a Hamilton Harty retrospective. Tod communicated his love for music as though it were headline news, and we loved him for it.
· Vernon George Handley, conductor, born November 11 1930; died September 10 2008