Writing of the ''reaffirmation of vitality'' which ends his Sixth String Quartet, David Matthews pin-points the essentially positive quality that makes his music so attractive. Even when, as with two works on this disc, there are immediate reflections of personal loss, the music speaks of consolation as well as grief, and there is nothing glib in the way music meant for public performances expresses private emotions.
The Third Quartet (1977-78) abounds in Tippett like qualities of energy and eloquence, the string writing idiomatic yet avoiding mere sound effects. The level of concentration is not quite so well sustained as the music gradually slows down, but there is an abundant promise here which is amply fulfilled in the Sixth Quartet (1990-91). The central Adagio of No. 6—a tribute to the art critic Peter Fuller—is framed by music which is certainly vital (evoking Janacek at the very end) but is also rich in unexpected twists and turns which carry a more ambiguous emotional charge.
In his notes on The flaying of Marsyas (1986–87), a concertino for oboe and string quartet Matthews writes of ''the miraculously calming effect'' of the Apollo/musician figure in Titian's painting of that name. There is not much that is calm in this musical depiction of the fierce contest between Apollo and Marsyas, yet the drama is exhilarating and, ultimately, touching in the freshness and directness of Its associations between musical and pictorial images. Where calmness is to be found is in A little threnody (1993), a serenely sorrowful melody of great beauty in a powerfully cumulative structure. With highly charged performances from Nicholas Daniel and the Brindisi Quartet, and with first-class engineering, this is a disc to treasure.'