Members of the Piatti Quartet
Simon Callaghan piano
Ashok Klouda cello
LYRITA SRCD 439
I was delighted when the opportunity to review this disc of William Busch’s Chamber music came as I have had for some time a soft spot for his wonderfully expressive Cello Concerto (Lyrita SRCD 320).
This disc starts with a beautifully moving work, the Three pieces for Violin and Piano of 1944, completed only weeks before his oh-so-sudden and early death at the age of 44. Its outer movements are lonely and delicate, its inner one dance-like. It is a terrific start to the disc. And it is followed by a Passacaglia for violin and viola, the earliest piece on the disc (1939), on a modal theme which in its mere seven minutes manages thirty taut, concise and memorable variations.
But let us cut to the chase. The longest work on the disc, and Busch’s longest chamber composition, is the 30-minute Piano Quartet of 1939, almost one of his most performed works including those during the decades following his death. It falls into four movements, and each is characterised by memorable and arresting ideas, aided by a varied harmonic language mixing lyrical melodies, some modal harmonies and, unsurprisingly for the period, some unclear tonality and some whole-tone passages.
But this is passionate music, especially in the powerful scherzo, and proved that the composer has something important to say. It is imbued, as is much of this recording, with a sense of melancholy, even despair at times. I suspect that, as much of it was written in the troubled ‘30’s, and during the war, these things clearly affected Busch’s outlook. I cannot imagine a better performance of this or, in fact, any of the works on this CD.
The Elegy and A Memory both from 1943, the latter composed for Elizabeth Poston, and both for cello and piano, are imbued with the same sense of melancholy. The other major work is the Suite for Cello and Piano which falls into four movements. It was written for Florence Hooton who also premièred the Cello Concerto. The opening Prelude tells you all you need to know about Busch’s passion for communicating deep emotions. There follows a ‘keen-edged’ Capriccio (quoting Paul Conway’s notes) a magically serene Nocturne and bravura Tarantella which a review in The Times apparently labelled as ‘somewhat macabre’.
But this is wonderful and original music, superbly performed, and it was clearly a tragedy for English Music that William Busch died before he could fulfil his considerable promise.
Review by Gary Higginson