After the success of the Chandos series of the Parry symphonies, it is good to have his chamber music appearing in a comparable Meridian series. When even the entry on Parry in Grove omits any comment on his chamber and orchestral music—reflecting a traditional assessment—it is particularly valuable to have the opportunity to make a much-needed reappraisal. Both of the works in the first volume, dating from 1878 and 1879 respectively, are products of the surge of creativity that followed Parry's visit to Bayreuth in 1876. Seeing the Ring cycle in its first year had a profound effect on him, but in his actual idiom Brahms and Schumann, rather than Wagner, were still the more important influences, with diatonic melody providing clear-cut thematic material, well-argued. The E minor Piano Trio, the first of the three that Parry wrote, is both shorter and more direct than the Piano Quartet, with an urgently passionate first movement, a Mendelssohnian scherzo, a richly melodic slow movement and a jaunty finale, sparer and more quirky in its arguments than the rest, lasting just under half an hour in all.
The Piano Quartet is more ambitious, with a slow introduction confirming how Parry's studies with the pianist, Edward Dannreuther must have covered late Beethoven quartets. The dark meditation of that introduction leads to a clear-cut, cheerful main theme with a strong dactylic rhythm, and from then on introspection plays little part in the argument until the very end of the work. Even then the brief reference back to the slow introduction only comes after a nostalgic recollection of the jaunty theme. Yet that introduction establishes the work's seriousness of purpose, and though the performance on the disc is not as polished as one would like, the confidence and technical skill of the 31-year-old composer are never in doubt. What is significant is that though the influence of Brahms, Mendelssohn and Schumann is easily detected, Parry's melodic writing is more than distinctive enough to rebut the charge of mere imitation, with such a movement as the dashing tarantella-like scherzo very effective indeed. As recorded, the intonation and matching of the string players in the Deakin Trio (with the viola player, Yuko Inoue joining them in the Quartet) is not ideally sweet, but it never undermines the thrusting conviction of the writing. The recording, made at St Olave's School, Orpington, balances the piano rather behind the rest, which is a pity, when Catherine Dubois so often takes the lead.
The other two piano trios, contained in Vol. 2, date from the following decade. By this time the English element in Parry's invention is more clearly identifiable, with some themes—such as the second subject in the first movement of No. 2—bringing anticipations of the lighter Elgar in its sequential writing, and the broad sweep of the opening theme of No. 3 has a hint of Elgar too. One might also substitute Nobilmente for the marking Maestoso, which Parry puts on the brief slow introduction to the outer movements of No. 2. Equally, the healthy outdoor feel of the triple-time main themes of the finales of both trios has a hint of English folk-music, while the folky element in the third movement scherzo of No. 2 is like a cross between Dvorak and Stanford, with Czech and Irish attractively intermingled. Both works are richly enjoyable, and if I marginally prefer No. 2, it is largely because of the more direct, open lyricism of the slow movement, compared with the more ambitious 'Lament' slow movement of No. 3, which opens with clear echoes of the Brahms Piano Quintet. Oddly, this Lament is in the major key.
The players of the Deakin Piano Trio in this second offering seem more happily adjusted to the rigours of recording than in the first, with rather better matching and intonation. The piano seems slightly less backwardly placed too, though that may be the result of the heavy octave writing in both these later trios helping the sound to project.'