After many years of inexplicable neglect by the record companies, John Ireland’s glorious Second Violin Sonata of 1917 (the work that established his reputation virtually overnight) at last appears to be coming into its own once again. This Hyperion newcomer is perhaps the most completely satisfying of the three versions to have come my way within the last few months. Paul Barritt and Catherine Edwards steer an intelligent middle course between the turbulent rhetoric of Lydia Mordkovitch’s epic account with Ian Brown on Chandos (part of a very desirable two-CD set of Ireland’s chamber music) and the more urgent, impulsive approach espoused by the youthful partnership of Oliver Lewis and Jeremy Filsell on Guild. Here is a passionate, superbly disciplined reading which communicates strongly, especially in the lovely Poco lento quasi adagio slow movement (how perceptively, for example, these characterful artists prepare us for the tenderly rapt return of the indelible principal melody).
Nor do Barritt and Edwards put a foot wrong in the ambitious 1909 Cobbett Prize-winning First Violin Sonata – an eloquent performance which, again, I’m inclined to rate marginally above its expansive Chandos rival. The rest of the disc is filled out with all the four pieces which comprise the remainder of Ireland’s output for violin and piano. The good-humoured Bagatelle (1911) bears a dedication to Marjorie Hayward, who participated in the belated 1913 premiere of the First Sonata (with Ireland himself at the piano). Both the Berceuse (1902) and Cavatina (1904) are early miniatures – tuneful, pretty and unpretentious offerings. Finally, The Holy Boy receives radiant advocacy, though, somewhat surprisingly, this 1919 arrangement (made by the composer) was never published.
Recording quality is clean and intimate; balance seems eminently well judged. Another extremely useful addition to the ever-expanding Ireland discography.'