It is fair to deduce from the eight songs which come as a supplement to the chamber and piano music, consistently tuneful and easy on the ear, that (had he been so inclined) William Lloyd Webber, like his son, Andrew, could have had a very successful career writing musicals. The gift of melody like this is a rare one, and each of these songs – in idiom rather like early Frank Bridge – offers tunes ready to latch in the mind, largely predictable but with unexpected twists, both melodic and harmonic. The piano writing is similarly fluent, with each song nicely constructed to make its point in an apt climax. This is music written primarily for the delight of the composer, a sudden outpouring in the early 1950s, which seems never to have been repeated. John Mark Ainsley is a most sensitive interpreter in each of these miniatures, even though under pressure there is a touch of grit in the voice.
The chamber and piano pieces span a far wider period, starting with the Fantasy Trio of 1936, written when the composer was 22 and presumably planning to enter the competition for the Cobbett Prize. In handling the multi-section structure typical of the Cobbett genre Lloyd Webber is most assured, as he is in the balancing of instruments. The pieces inspired by particular places, like Frensham Pond for clarinet and his very last known work, The Gardens at Eastwell for flute (with the piano accompaniment completed by Pam Chowhan) are as freely lyrical as the songs. The flute music, including the Sonatina of 1941, not surprisingly has a French tinge, but this is all very English in its idiom, echoing not just early Bridge but occasionally Ireland too, as in the brisk, chattering piano piece, ‘Tree Tops’ (Three Spring Miniatures), and A Song for the Morning with its clashing intervals of a second. The Nash Ensemble soloists are all outstanding, with the pianist, Ian Brown, an inspired lynchpin in every item. As Julian Lloyd Webber points out in a special note, this recording of the Fantasy Trio was sadly the very last made by the cellist, Christopher van Kampen, before his sudden death last year.'