Of contemporary composers neglected by record companies, no case is more surprising than that of Malcolm Williamson (b.1931). Irrespective of his position as Master of the Queen’s Music it is clear – if the Symphony No. 7 (1984) is a reliable guide – that the music is well made and immediately appealing, in a mainstream style recalling Lennox Berkeley, the earlier Tippett and even, a little further back, the more ebullient sides of Warlock and Grainger. There is nothing avant-garde here, but the music’s lack of inhibition and strength of character makes its neglect incomprehensible.
The disc also includes music by other composers who are less well represented in current catalogues than they deserve. Red leaves, a fairly recent piece by John McCabe (b.1939), is a neatly turned exercise in a pastoral tradition that may summon up politically incorrect hunting horns but can also express much deeper feelings. Elizabeth Lutyens’s cantata, O saisons, o chateaux, is a fine demonstration of how an atonal style can enhance a mood of romantic lyricism. By contrast, the late set of Bagatelles is far too dutiful, and quite without the sprightly humour that the title implies.
The disc also contains one of Robert Saxton’s most substantial scores from the late-1980s. Elijah’s Violin is not a violin concerto, but a cogently argued symphony for chamber orchestra based on an old Jewish folk-tale. Its expansive melodic writing and euphonious harmony are fine demonstrations of this composer’s particular strengths and, together with the short but surprisingly intense Birthday Piece for Richard Rodney Bennett (1986), should win new friends for Saxton’s music.
This is a demanding programme for the performers, and although signs of effort are occasionally evident in the playing, it is never less than competent. The recordings are rather clinical, with less bloom, particularly to the string sound in the Williamson, than I would like, but not to the extent that interest or enjoyment are marred.'