THE CHAMBER MUSIC OF MALCOLM ARNOLD The Nash Ensemble 3 single CDs Hyperion ££ Volume 1: Violin Sonata No 2 Op. 43; Five Pieces for Violin & Piano Op. 84; Viola Sonata Op. 17; Violin Sonata No 1 Op. 15; etc.; CDH55071; TPT 56’21” Volume 2: Flute Sonatina Op. 19; Clarinet Sonatina Op. 29; Oboe Sonatina Op. 28; Recorder Sonatina Op. 41; etc.; CDH55072; TPT 62’05” Volume 3: Quintet for flute, violin, viola, horn and bassoon Op. 7; Oboe Quartet Op. 61; Flute Sonata Op. 121; Three Shanties for wind quintet Op. 4; etc.; CDH55073; TPT 63’52”

When considering of the works of Malcolm Arnold, my undergraduate composition tutor was, on more than one occasion, overheard muttering uttering words of pure invective. As one who often enjoyed Arnold’s style, I was always slightly perplexed by his hatred of what appeared to be intelligently-written and attractive music. It turned out that it was this second characteristic that was the cause of his distress: he was incensed by Arnold’s view that music should be written in a way that can be appreciated and understood by anyone; such comments do not lie well with the ethos of many avant-garde composers, who have turned to more abstract and/or complex styles that cannot be easily appreciated by the general concert-going audience. In this light, anyone who had not heard his music might expect Arnold’s style to be something akin to an easy-listening James Horner soundtrack or, even worse, a Karl Jenkins crossover nightmare. However, what they would find is much more imaginative. His music is fundamentally tonal (with a liberally-added dose of dissonance) and, more importantly, it is music that radiates a brilliant spectrum of colour. Influences both native and foreign are evident; echoes of Walton are juxtaposed with the Gallic cheek of Poulenc (although Arnold’s humour is often more blunt than Poulenc’s). He has an effortless melodic gift and his knowledge of British folksong, displayed most famously in his sets of English, Scottish, Welsh and Irish orchestral dances, permeates elsewhere on a more subtle level.

Being prolific, Arnold has written 22 chamber works, which, presented here on only three CDs, is something of a testament to his great economy of form. In fact, it is interesting to note that some of his sonatinas are longer in duration than many of his sonatas.

The first volume concentrates on string repertoire. Marcia Crayford and Ian Brown negotiate the two violin sonatas with great skill, the transitions from mood to mood in the second making its short form appear truly convincing. However, the real gems for this duo are found in the Five Pieces for Violin and Piano (Op. 84): these fairly simple pieces are immediately attractive and act as a series of mood pictures. The performers portray the character of each piece to great effect, from the austerity of the Prelude, through the quirkiness of the Waltz, to the hyperactive walking bass of theMoto perpetuo.

The most impressive performance, however, is Roger Chase’s reading of the Viola Sonata (Op. 17). Although it might not have the immediate charm of some of the other sonatas, repeated listening reveals it to be a more intense work. Chase’s rich tones are breathtaking, providing a wonderful foil to the manic dashing lines of the last movement.

Judith Pierce finds just the right approach with a gorgeous, melting tone.

Volume 2 contains the wind sonatinas and fantasies. As with the first, these are nearly all based on small-scale forms and no individual movement exceeds five minutes in length. Thus it is quite hard to listen to the CD straight through from beginning to end, since no sooner does one get to grips with one piece than the next begins. One might also be critical of the continued use of a three-movement scheme for the majority of these works, especially when considering that Arnold’s imagination with form on a local level is so rich and varied. That said, there is much to enjoy here: the Flute Sonatina (Op. 19) is a great piece, the second movement of which is reminiscent of the languid melody of its equivalent in Poulenc’s sonata; Judith Pearce finds just the right approach with a gorgeous, melting tone. In the final movement, the sunny writing immediately lifts the mood to pleasing affect. Although the other sonatinas contain similarly virtuoso playing, it is regrettable that the Recorder Sonatina (Op. 41) is performed in its alternative flute version, since the original scoring might have provided more interesting listening.

Although the five Fantasies for oboe, clarinet, bassoon, horn and flute respectively are miniature test-pieces designed exploit the potential of each instrument, they are nowhere near as interesting as the Trio for Flute, Viola and Bassoon (Op. 6), in which Arnold displays his skill in writing for unusual combinations: the performers capture the deft flurries of the first movement with a witty lightness, although it is the bleak, acidic harmonies of the slow movement that seem especially suitable for this particular scoring.

The final disc of the set consists of a series of works for small and equally unusual combinations, a testament to the way in which Arnold has enriched the chamber music repertoire. As elsewhere, the sense of ensemble is superb and worthy of particular note is the Divertimento for Flute, Oboe and Clarinet (Op. 37) since its bubbling Vivace provides some of the most exciting playing one could wish to hear.

It is appropriate that these discs should end with Three Shanties for Wind Quintet (Op. 4) since they embody much of Arnold’s philosophy; although containing familiar references, they remain utterly fresh and original, show impeccable craftsmanship and can be appreciated on many levels.

The quality of playing in this three-volume set is impeccable and has completely justified its re-issue, making it not only a worthy record of Arnold’s achievements as a chamber composer, but of the virtuosity that has ensured the Nash Ensemble’s place as one of the country’s leading chamber groups.

Gavin Meredith