Arthur Butterworth - A 75th Birthday Tribute
by Richard D. C. Noble
In August 1998 Arthur Butterworth will be celebrating
his 75th birthday and has recently completed his 100th opus,
a string quartet. It is the first time he has chosen to confront
himself with this challenging genre which is rather surprising
when we consider the wide range and depth of his creative output.
One would like to think that the musical world will be eagerly
awaiting the completion of this new work which will undoubtedly
underline a new facet of his inspiration. Unfortunately, despite
all that he has achieved, Arthur Butterworth is little known
outside his native North of England (since strictly speaking
he is a Lancastrian) except in the rather confined world of the
brass band for which he has provided effective music that has
been widely played. His extensive output of orchestral scores,
which includes four symphonies, several concertos and other large-scale
works, ensemble music of great variety and some very telling
vocal and choral pieces has all been highly praised in its time
but little has established itself in the regular repertory.
It is a fate that has befallen many composers, of course, but for
Arthur Butterworth one problem has been that virtually nothing
of his has ever been commercially recorded. At one time this was
never considered to be very important but today recordings can
make all the difference between a composer who becomes well known
and one who remains in relative obscurity. Recordings are disseminated
throughout the world and they also become the easy option for broadcasting
organisations, not least the BBC. Once on record the music starts
to be heard by ever-widening audiences and if they like what they
hear they demand more and the snowball effect gathers pace. No
composer is more deserving of this recognition than Arthur Butterworth,
who was appointed MBE in 1995. One can only hope that on the occasion
of his 75th birthday something can be done to draw attention to
his remarkable achievement.
Perhaps we should state straightaway that Arthur
is in no way related to the composer George Butterworth
with whom he has sometimes been confused. He was born in Manchester
on 4 August 1923. On leaving school he worked in a solicitor's
office for a time before joining the Royal Engineers in 1942.
On demobilisation, he entered the Royal Manchester College of
Music (RMCM) in 1947, studying composition with Richard Hall
for two years; also trumpet and conducting. As a student of Richard
Hall - before Goehr, Maxwell Davies, Birtwistle and Elgar Howarth
came on the scene - he was inculcated with the ideals of the
Second Viennese School but soon rejected it as not being what
he wanted to say. He had already written some pieces before entering
the College and his first acknowledged opus, Now on Land and
Sea Descending, a setting for contralto and orchestra of
'The Vesper Hymn' by Longfellow, was one of the pieces he submitted
as evidence to the RMCM that he was suitable to be taken on as
a composition student. This was eventually performed at a college
concert and provided Butterworth with his first experience of
conducting a proper orchestra, albeit a student one.
Shortly after the war, being stationed in Germany
at Flensburg, he became much influenced by German church music
and by a group of musicians he met who opened his ears and eyes
to what music was really about. The German influence is reflected
in some of his earliest pieces dating from 1947 such as the Organ
Partita on a German Chorale and the Hindemithian Oboe
Sonata, all destined for performance at the RMCM student
concerts, Then, at the behest of Richard Hall and with some reluctance,
he wrote his only strictly 12-note composition, the Trio for
oboe, clarinet and bassoon, and had to admit when it was performed
that he rather liked it. The Modal Suite had a curious
genesis. One week-end Richard Hall took all his composition students
away for a seminar. The object was to go to a place without a
piano so that the pianists would not be able to rely on working
at the keyboard. Each had to write a work for the available instruments
some of them played. Hence the combination of flute, clarinet,
bassoon, trumpet (Butterworth's own instrument), violin, viola
and cello. His Suite was somewhat tongue-in-cheek and rustic,
using quasi-folk modal tunes. He later used the first movement
as a trio section in his Gigues, Op. 42.
The first 'good' piece the composer considers
he wrote as a student was the Suite for strings of 1948,
Its up-beat opening in ¾ time was inspired by Elgar's Severn
Suite for brass band which for some reason appealed to Butterworth.
It was his first work to be broadcast by the BBC with the London
String Orchestra under Maurice Miles but only on the Latin American
Service on Short Wave. An in-house recording on a huge 20" disc
was made of the broadcast which the composer was invited to hear
but which, for contractual reasons, then had to be destroyed.
What a waste! In 1952 Butterworth himself conducted two further
performances of the work but no recordings were made and the
work has recently been revived by the English Sinfonia at Stevenage
on 26 October 1997.
Butterworth had better luck with the Sinfonietta of
1949, written very much under the influence of Vaughan Williams,
which was accepted by the BBC and broadcast with the BBC Northern
under John Hopkins in 1953 and later performed a few more times
with other orchestras. Another piece inspired by Vaughan Williams
was the Legend, dating from 1950, which he wrote for the
Buxton Spa Orchestra of which at the time he was a member for
the summer season of 1950. Butterworth took some lessons with
VW at about this time when his influence was at its zenith and
was told by the great man that eventually he would 'grow out
of it' and that he was not then to think himself 'unfaithful'
to him. A generous and perceptive comment to make to an incipient
young composer with much potential inside him. Inspired he must
always have been by this great figure in British music, but his
mature music has followed a rather different path, being profoundly
influenced by the spacious surroundings of the Airedale moors
where he has made his home, not confined to the more parochial
English countryside which once led Elisabeth Lutyens, that naughty
girl, to condemn a whole generation of British composers as 'the
cowpat school'. He might well have heeded another pronouncement
coming from that provocative lady, namely 'If you are a composer,
you bloody well compose!'
Butterworth has never ceased to compose throughout
his professional life. Some pieces, relevant enough at the time
they were written, he can now dismiss as being of no importance,
but the core of his output is based on very solid foundations.
His large-scale orchestral scores have an expansive Nordic quality
almost unique in British music and may best be demonstrated in
his four symphonies, the first of which was premiered by Sir
John Barbirolli in 1957 and brought to the Proms in 1958, heralding
what seemed at the time to be a powerful new British symphonist,
Unfortunately Butterworth's broad atmospheric gestures, anchored
in the tradition of an earlier generation were entirely out of
tune with the changing fashions of the 1960s. Always true to
himself and somewhat in conflict with the advice of his teacher,
Richard Hall, he came to the fore at the wrong time and his music
has never established itself in the way it deserves. He lists
Elgar, Holst, Bliss, Ireland, Finzi and Bax (but not Delius)
as composers from whose music be has received inspiration quite
apart from Vaughan Williams but he feels real spiritual attachment
to Sibelius and composers of the northern school. Perhaps his
attraction for the wide open spaces which comes through so forcefully
in so much of his music was first triggered by the experience
of finding himself undergoing military training in Spey Bay near
Lossiemouth in the highlands of Scotland at the start of his
war service. He found it a remote and strangely mystical region
which had a profound effect on him and which he has subsequently
revisited in more benign circumstances, but the environment of
the Yorkshire moors where he has made his home offers space enough
to feed his inspiration. Not for nothing did he name his house
at Embsay near Skipton, where he has lived with his wife and
family for many years, 'Pohjola' after a Finnish legend of the
Kalevala.
After leaving the RMCM, Butterworth began his
professional career as a trumpeter with the Scottish National
Orchestra (1949-1955) and then with the Hallé (1955-1962).
Here he learnt all he ever needed to know about the orchestra
and how to write for it and has always regarded the years he
spent with these two great orchestras as among the best in his
life. He also taught brass for the former West Riding Education
Department for a few years until being appointed lecturer in
composition at Huddersfield University Music Department, a post
he came to loathe and finally gave up in 1980, leaving himself
totally free to compose and to conduct. In 1962 he had been appointed
associate conductor of the Huddersfield Philharmonic Society
and in 1964 became permanent conductor, a post he found much
to his taste, leaving only in 1993. He has guest-conducted many
other orchestras, mainly in concerts where his own works have
been featured, not least some of the BBC orchestras, but has
found that since reaching the age of 60 this aspect of free-lance
work for the BBC has virtually ceased. Since 1969 he has had
a particularly happy association with the Settle Orchestra in
the Yorkshire Dales where, against all the odds of rural life,
a very efficient amateur orchestra is maintained which regularly
engages good professional soloists and has a professional leader.
Butterworth's success in writing effective music
for brass bands may be explained by the fact that he began his
musical life as a brass player in early youth with the Besses
o' the Barn Band in Manchester and soon acquired a full understanding
of its capabilities but he has a love-hate relationship with
the brass band movement because of the trivial nature of so much
brass band mentality as regards the quality of its music. His
own music for the medium falls uncomfortably between two stools:
it is not popular enough in the brass band sense and not contemporary
enough for the intellectuals outside the brass band movement
but he is in constant demand for new pieces and he took on the
directorship of the National Youth Brass Band of Great Britain
in 1975 but eventually handed over to Roy Newsome, a true man
o' brass.
Let us now return to Butterworth's time with
the Scottish National Orchestra in the early 1950s in order to
examine his progress as a fully professional composer. Worth
mentioning for sure is the Romanza for horn and strings
which he composed in 1954 for the then principal horn of the
SNO, by all accounts an eccentric character whose grandmother
was said to be a Red Indian squaw. He never performed it, but
it was eventually done by Ifor James with the BBC Northern in
1958. By this time Butterworth had moved from Scotland back to
Manchester to join the Hallé and his reputation had become
firmly established with the premiere of his Symphony No. 1 at
the Cheltenham Festival on 19 July 1957 by the Hallé under
Sir John Barbirolli. This was the work in which the composer
found his true mode of expression, creating a great edifice of
soaring harmony and spacious sound in the spirit of Sibelius.
Dedicated to his wife (they had been married in 1952), the symphony
was very slow in gestation. He had set down his first ideas one
September afternoon back in 1949 when he was still technically
a student although about to join the SNO. The hectic life of
an orchestral musician both with the SNO and then, on moving
back to Manchester to join the Hallé in 1955, setting
up house and settling down in new surroundings allowed little
time for serious composition but eventually he did find the time
and the symphony was finally completed on 6 March 1956. The Cheltenham
concert, which was nationally broadcast, was skilfully planned
with Rawsthorne's Street Corner Overture and Ireland's Concertino
Pastorale to serve as a warm-up for the new premiere. The
concert was rounded off, after the interval, with Beethoven's
fifth symphony, ensuring a packed house, and the new symphony
was given a splendid performance and was received with tumultuous
applause. The music critics, too, were suitably impressed although
it may have been a little disconcerting for the composer to discover
that for The Times critic the last movement was an effective
evocation of huge crowds of people heaving and roaring together
at the end of a football match when what he intended to depict
was a wild northern landscape in winter. The symphony went on
to enjoy a successful London premiere at the Proms, the following
year, also under Barbirolli, again in company with Beethoven,
and to have several later performances including two with BBC
orchestras under the composer's baton but astonishingly it is
the only work of his ever to have been performed at a Prom which
must count as a frustration for him.
It was in 1958 that Butterworth was to write
one of his most effective and most often performed shorter works
for orchestra, The Path Across the Moors, and another
evocation of wide open spaces with a haunting melody which came
to him one day when idly strumming on the piano and which enchanted
his wife. The piece is descriptive of a favourite walk he took
almost daily across the moors with his dog, "Piccolo" and conjures
up a wonderful atmosphere. Two years later he wrote a similar
piece, The Quiet Tarn (Malham), scored for chamber orchestra.
This was given its first performance with the BBC Northern under
George Hurst together with The Green Wind, which is not
inspired by the Yorkshire moors but by a villa of that name on
the Côte d'Azur. Meantime he had written another evocative
work on a larger scale, premiered with the BBC Scottish under
Maurice Miles, Three Nocturnes: Northern Summer Nights,
inspired by summer nights spent not on the moors but in the more
remote Highlands of Scotland, taking as his starting point a
work he had written for solo piano for a fellow student at the
RMCM in 1949, Lakeland Summer Nights, but using new material
in the final movement.
In 1965 came A Dales Suite, his first
significant work for brass band, commissioned by Ermysteds Grammar
School in Skipton. It was soon published and has enjoyed a great
many performances both in this country and also in Australia.
Many years later in 1981, he re-scored the work for orchestra
and this splendid new version was premiered by the BBC Concert
Orchestra under Ashley Lawrence in 1982 and has also been heard
in Australia performed by the Lane Cove Orchestra.
When the First Symphony was performed in Bradford
in November 1957 it made such a strong impression that the Bradford
Subscription Concerts Society immediately commissioned Butterworth
to write them a follow-up symphony for the centenary of its association
with the Hallé orchestra in 1965. Like the First Symphony,
No. 2 was long in gestation but the composer did not get down
to serious work on it until 1963-4. It proved to be another large
panoramic work and was duly performed by Sir Adrian Boult with
the Hallé during the centenary season, which of course
also marked the centenaries of both Sibelius and Nielsen, the
significance of which did not escape the composer's attention.
In the meantime, Butterworth had written another
very substantial work, unofficially for the BBC Northern but
not commissioned or paid for by the BBC. This was The Moors,
a suite for large orchestra and organ which evokes the spirit
of the moors of northern England at four different seasons of
the year, four times of the day and under four differing kinds
of weather. It reality it is another full-scale symphony and
was first performed under Stanford Robinson in January 1963.
Butterworth's next work on a large scale, A
Moorland Symphony, was written for the Saddleworth Festival
of 1967 and set words by the little known Saddleworth poet,
Ammon Wrigley (1872-1946). It was the result of an Arts Council
commission and was successfully premiered under the composer's
baton with the BBC Northern and the Saddleworth Choral Society.
Three years later he was commissioned to write another rather
different work for the Saddleworth Festival. This was Trains
in the Distance for speaker and tape with chorus and orchestra.
The poems all deal with nostalgia about the decline of steam
power, It was later also performed at the 1976 York Festival
in the National Railway Museum. A tape of this performance
was made and is believed to be still on sale in the NRM gift
shop in York. Unfortunately the performance was not as well
rehearsed as it should have been. Butterworth has always had
an interest in railway history and serves occasionally in the
book-shop of his local village steam railway on fine summer
Sundays.
The most successful of all Butterworth's numerous
pieces for brass band was Three Impressions, which has
been played all over the world. It was written for the Northumberland
Youth Band and premiered at the Morpeth Festival in 1968. It
has titles descriptive of the 19th century industrial
revolution in Northumberland one of which, 'Puffing Billy' describes
the first crude railway engine and was adapted from a Granada
TV documentary on the Salvation Army transmitted in 1967 and
called 'The Warmongers' for which Butterworth contributed the
music. The Triton Suite for brass septet, commissioned
by the Antonine Brass Ensemble in Scotland, has also enjoyed
wide success, especially in the US, where it was published by
Robert King Music. Among other brass pieces of the period, Caliban written
primarily for the Brighouse & Rastrick Band, became well-known
because it was chosen as a test piece for the National Championship
at the RAH but the composer would prefer such works to be respected
as concert rather than mere contest pieces.
The work-list will reveal the wide variety of
brass band and ensemble music Butterworth was writing in the
1960s and 1970s, mostly for specific performers and for educational
purposes, some perhaps of transitory value but much of durable
worth. To examine each one of these pieces here would take too
much space and detract from the major works that should command
our attention, but certain works possess unusual features well
worth noting. One such is Ancient Sorceries commissioned
by the counter-tenor Owen Wynne for performance at a Radio Manchester
recital in 1975. The title comes from a tale of the supernatural
by Algernon Blackwood, the poetry from Walter de la Mare. Because
of the ethereal voice of the counter-tenor, the less than robust
sound of the recorder as opposed to, say, the flute, and the
spindly quality of the harpsichord, the composer strove to create
a 'fairy' piece quite unlike anything else he had written, skilfully
avoiding the kind of pastiche so many composers descend to when
writing for early instruments with a few 'wrong' notes added
to bring their music into the 20th century.
Another curious work, The Owl and the Pussy
Cat, dates from 1978 and arose because a friend in Denmark
wanted something for the improbable combination of brass band,
jazz group and a small chorus for a concert to be given in
Hjørring. Apart from anything else was he to set Danish
words? Happily English is well spoken and understood in Denmark
and Edward Lear's grandfather had been Danish so he compromised
and settled for the latter. The amateur Danish performance
was none too successful but the composer was able to put on
a more satisfactory performance at the Huddersfield Polytechnic
Music Department later on. Nor is the work as zany as it might
at first appear. Butterworth saw a symbolistic, dark surrealist
quality lying behind Lear's humour concerning the predatory
nature of cats and owls, brought forcefully home to him on
his nightly walks with his dog, occasionally rescuing other
hapless creatures of the night. An animal lover, he is chairman
of the local branch of the RSPCA. We have here an outwardly
eccentric and humorous piece with a much darker hidden message.
In the orchestral field Butterworth was to produce
some lighter pieces in the early 1970s. Italian Journeys written
in 1971 for the BBC Concert Orchestra and eventually performed
under Ashley Lawrence in 1974, inhabits a very different world
from his northern environment and is an evocation of his travels
with the Hallé in Italy in 1957 with movements descriptive
of Rome (Toccata), Ravello (Nocturne) and Rimini (Tarantella).
Another lighter work, Gigues, which we have already mentioned
in connection with the youthful Modal Suite, was written
for the Oldham Orchestra in 1973 but was later taken up by the
BBC Concert Orchestra and other ensembles and very much wears
its heart on its sleeve.
Then came the magisterial Organ Concerto, written
for Gillian Weir and performed under the composer's direction
at the 1973 Huddersfield Festival. It was also played later with
the BBC Philharmonic. It was the first of his major works in
the concerto form to be followed in 1978 by the Violin Concerto,
first performed by Granville Morris with the Westmorland Orchestra
in November of that year. Its first fully professional performance
came later in 1981 with the BBC Scottish and with no less a soloist
than Nigel Kennedy. When rehearsing the concerto, Kennedy asked
the composer "Have you played it much yourself then?" and was
utterly astonished to be told that the composer was no string
player and thought that he must be joking for he found the violin
part so idiomatically written that it could only have been created
by a good fiddle player. With such qualities we may well ask
ourselves why more violinists have not taken up this soaring
and attractive work, and indeed why more attention has not been
paid to the Third Symphony, Sinfonia Borealis, which much
preoccupied the composer from the mid-1970s and finally came
to fruition in a midday Prom broadcast from the Royal Northern
College of Music in Manchester one Friday at the end of November
1979 with the BBC Northern under Bryden Thomson. Hardly prime
time listening for so important a work. Inspired by Sibelius
and the music of the north and at the same time paying homage
to Vaughan Williams, it is another atmospheric score on a large
canvas evoking wide and horizonless landscapes of isolation and
solitude, as impressive as any of his essays exploring this territory
which be has made so especially his own.
Not long afterwards, Butterworth was commissioned
to write a piece for the Cotswold Sinfonietta, Nex Vulpinus.
It takes the song 'The Fox' by Peter Warlock as the basis for
a 'black' scherzo lamenting the death of the fox in the hunt.
Like The Owl and The Pussy Cat it has other implications
for the composer, an ardent anti-blood sports campaigner. Its
success led to another commission the following year, Beowulf.
Both were premiered at the English Music Festival at Cirencester,
unfortunately in a church with notoriously poor acoustics but
both works have enjoyed impressive performances at other venues
since.
1981 gave birth to the symphonic study for large
orchestra September Morn as the result of an Arts Council
bursary award. Inspired by the famous painting of that name,
'Matinée Septembre' by Paul Chabas, it was written in
honour of the centenary of Arnold Bax but, alas, has never been
performed. Sad, too, that what must have been an amusing piece
for two oboes and cor anglais entitled Leprechauns, commissioned
by three young players who never acknowledged the receipt of
the MS nor paid for it, has remained unheard. The players, as
it were, absconded.
By 1982 Butterworth was already planning a Fourth
Symphony which he finished in 1984, but the main themes had been
in the back of his mind since 1972. The scherzo for this last
symphony was conceived one bright cold frosty December afternoon
when he was driving alone through Lossie Forest in the Spey Bay
near Lossiemouth and needless to say its whole conception is
inspired by the spacious, ever-changing northern landscapes from
which the composer derives so much uplift and in many ways carries
on the spirit of the First Symphony composed so many years before.
It was first performed at a public concert on 8 May 1986 by the
BBC Philharmonic under Bryden Thomson. The composer considers
it to be one of his most fulfilling large-scale works, yet it
has been entirely neglected in the years which have followed.
This does not encourage Butterworth to create more symphonies
which take so long in gestation. By contrast a Cheltenham Festival
commission to mark his 60th birthday in 1983 resulted
in his first really substantial chamber work, the Piano Trio,
first performed by the Music Group of London and given many times
since. It was composed in a hurry without much time for self-conscious
reflection and has a fluency which makes it stand apart and we
must regret that he has not found the time and the inspiration
to create more works of this kind.
Perhaps Butterworth's most successful work for
the brass band has been Odin, a work of symphonic depth
first played at the International Trumpet Guild in 1986 which
had the distinction of being chosen as the test piece at the
1989 National Brass Band Championship finals and heard no less
than 22 times in succession at the Royal Albert Hall. The winners
of the competition were Desford Brass, who later commissioned
two further works from Butterworth Paean and Passacaglia,
the latter founded on the notation of the Passacaglia in
Brahms' Fourth Symphony, and both were enthusiastically received.
Also dating from about this time came Kendal Clock, written
for the Westmorland Orchestra to celebrate the 800th anniversary
of Kendal's charter. The work is based on the seven tunes, one
heard each day of the week, played by Kendal Town Hall clock
which Butterworth successfully worked into a fantasia.
Another highly unusual commission came the composer's
way from New Zealand to write a brass band work to celebrate
the 700th anniversary of the establishment of Maori
culture. The composer was sent a recording of some rather simplistic
Maori folk tunes arranged by the late Inia Te Wiata and sung
by a girls' choir which formed the basis for a suitably challenging
work which became the Sinfonia Maoriana for brass. By
then he was working on a substantial Viola Concerto which was
not brought to fruition until 1992 and then given a broadcast
performance by the BBC Philharmonic under Barry Wordsworth with
Peter Lale as soloist in a concert to mark his 70th birthday
but not transmitted until May 1994. This was the first full-scale
concerto he bad written since the Violin Concerto of 1978, although Summer
Music of 1986, written for Alison Birkinshaw and performed
with the Settle Orchestra in 1987 is, in effect, a successful
bassoon concerto. There are not so many good viola concertos
in the contemporary repertoire for this one, with its tempestuous moto
perpetuo finale and virtuoso writing, to be ignored.
A symphonic study for large orchestra, Northern
Light, was commissioned by the Leeds Symphony Orchestra
for its centenary in 1991. This is another northern impression
depicting the northern moorland, in a midsummer midnight and
early dawn. Also dating from 1991 is Solent Forts, commissioned
by English Heritage for the retirement of Lord Montagu of Beaulieu
as first chairman of EH. He actually chose the title of the
piece as being appropriate to where he lives in Hampshire and
with the notion of the many defences round the Solent - Drake
and the Armada; the Napoleonic forts and D- Day in 1944. It
was first performed by the Wren Orchestra at Kenwood and led
to a brass band version, performed the following year by Howard
Snell. The Concerto alla Veneziana, commissioned by
the National Youth Brass Band, was set for a Saturday afternoon
concert for the Proms in 1992 but alas, was cancelled because
John Major apparently pressurised the BBC to relay test matches
on Radio 3 on Saturday afternoons. Effectively a trumpet concerto,
it was eventually given a high profile performance at the York
Barbican with Maurice Murphy as solo trumpet. The composer
was later persuaded to re-score it for large orchestra for
the BBC Philharmonic with the promise of a performance that
has yet to take place.
Another frustration for the composer in recent
years was the commission by the Hallé for a midwinter
concert of The Great Frost. Claire Bloom, who suggested
the poetry and was to have been the narrator, pulled out of the
project and the work was never performed. Kent Nagano, who was
to have conducted, by way of compensation, asked the composer
if he could write a piece for large orchestra and brass band
for the Hallé to play at their last season at the old
Free Trade Hall before moving to the new Bridgewater Hall. Also
the CWS was celebrating the 150th anniversary of the
Cooperative Movement in Lancashire (always based in Manchester).
Thus came about The Mancunians. The composer found some
of his inspiration from the impressionist paintings of Adolphe
Valette, the teacher of Lowrie. The CWS provided their own excellent
brass band from Glasgow and the performance became a resounding
success and a triumph in every way. Another successful recent
work has been the concert overture Ragnarök commissioned
by the Isle of Man government for the Manx Youth Orchestra in
1995. The Ragnarök stone in the Isle of Man is a Viking
relic.
In 1997, came another triumph with the new Cello
Concerto, a somewhat classically-based work cast in four movements
in lyrical mood which was premiered under the composer's direction
at Huddersfield Town Hall on 18 January 1997 with a brilliant
young cellist, Rebecca Gilliver, as soloist, to great acclaim
by all who were privileged to attend. In the summer he wrote
some light entertainment music, Morris Dancers, for four
enthusiastic horn players in Huddersfield and responded to a
commission from the Mayfield Wind Ensemble by providing Actaeon's
Ride for twelve wind instruments and double bass and then
composed a serious concert piece, the Saxhorn Sonata for tenor
horn in E flat, an instrument for which there is a very limited
solo repertoire and a need for more. The tenor horn has a haunting
quality and the work is in part inspired by J.M. Barrie's play, Mary
Rose, for which Norman O'Neill wrote effective incidental
music in 1920.
One hundred opuses and still the muse constantly
beckons! But where are the commercial recordings and broadcasts
that could bring all this music continuously to delight our ears?
Perhaps in 1998, of all years, something can be done. In the
meantime Arthur continues to walk across the moors with his dog,
no longer, alas, with "Piccolo", nor "Flute" who succeeded him,
nor even "Basso" (a giant poodle), but now with an Airedale of
lengthening years named "Bruno", and all the time gaining fresh
inspiration in the ever-changing light to uplift us all. Many
happy returns!
© Richard D.C. Noble
The author would like to acknowledge the unstinting
help he has received from the composer in providing through protracted
correspondence so much invaluable information concerning the
genesis of his compositions during the preparation of this article.