William Beaton MOONIE (1883-1961)
Perthshire Echoes (publ. 1924) [19:09]
A Scottish Chap-book, Book 1 (undated) [23:00]
Five Pieces for piano (undated) [17:10]
Arabesque (publ. 1923) [3:49]
Five Romantic Pieces (1955) [15:35]
Reverie (publ. 1922) [4:16]
Christopher Guild (piano)
rec. 3 January 2021, Old Granary Studio, Beccles, UK
TOCCATA CLASSICS TOCC0602 [83:00]
William Beaton Moonie was a closed book to me until this disc arrived in my letter box. I did know that he was a productive composer. In the 1970s, I saw references to him in printed catalogues in the library, and I can recall being tantalised by the title Perthshire Echoes. But since then nothing. There is no entry for him in the current online edition of Grove’s Dictionary, and only a brief note by the redoubtable Maurice Lindsay in the 1966 edition. There is not a Wikipedia article on his life and achievement. The only major essay in the public domain, by the late David C. F. Wright, is genuinely helpful, and it includes a work list.
William Beaton (W. B.) Moonie was born in the village of Stobo in Peeblesshire on 29 May 1883, when the family was on holiday. His father James Moonie, also a musician, had founded “Mr Moonie’s Choir” in Edinburgh. The young W. B. attended Daniel Stewart’s School in Edinburgh and then the University, where he studied with Frederick Niecks. His Mus.B. degree was awarded in 1902. He won a Bucher Scholarship and enjoyed three-year study in Frankfurt with Iwan Knorr. Returning to Edinburgh in 1908, he began a career of teaching, also at his old school. He had further lessons with the composer and pedagogue Donald Tovey. Upon the death of his father in 1923, W. B. took over the Choir. He also ran Bruce, Clements & Co, a music publishing business. It printed mainly his own work. William Beaton Moonie died in Edinburgh on 8 December 1961.
Moonie’s catalogue includes the opera The Weird of Colbar, two symphonies, a piano concerto and the enticingly named tone poem Springtime on Tweed. There was much piano literature, chamber music, countless songs and choral works. The liner notes explain that W. B. reveals “a preoccupation with his native Scotland: tone-poems evoking the Scottish landscape or monuments, settings of texts by Scottish poets such as Robert Burns and James Hogg, and homage to literary figures like Sir Walter Scott”.
The first thing to say about W. B. Moonie’s style is that there is little indication of modernism in these pages. The radical reappraisal of Scottish music by Erik Chisholm and Francis George Scott left him unmoved. Despite his continental training, it is as if Schoenberg, Bartok and Stravinsky never existed. Composers who did influence him were of an earlier generation, among them Mendelssohn, Bruch and Tchaikovsky. The listener will certainly detect the effect of Chopin’s pianism in this music. I hear hints of Ravel and Debussy, but strangely never John Ireland, Arnold Bax or Cyril Scott. Others may disagree.
Moonie was equally unmoved by the Scottish Renaissance of literature and culture spearheaded by Hugh MacDiarmid and others. His cultural markers were Sir Walter Scott, Robert Louis Stevenson and a Scotland “safely consigned to the historical past”. In the febrile atmosphere of early 20th century Scotland, Moonie was no Nationalist or Communist; he had no strong political views.
This review draws heavily on Christopher Guild’s excellent programme notes. The first work is the evocatively titled Perthshire Echoes. Anyone who has been lucky enough to explore this beautiful county will surely relate to this suite. Yet, these are not landscape impressions but derivations from several (relatively and formerly) well-known songs by Scottish authors and musicians. Guild defines these Echoes as each one being a “rhapsody on a popular Scottish song from the eighteenth century onwards, and all are based on or around a famous place in Perthshire”. The notes give the historical details and a good outline of the sentiments of each number. The songs are Hunting Tower, Aberfeldy, Balquhidder, Lass o’ Gowrie, House o’ Gask and Blair Athol, and the poets include James Hogg, Lady Oliphant, Robert Tannahill and Rabbie Burns. W. B. Moonie has created a wonderful set of rhapsodies on these songs, uplifting, often moving and always thoughtful. One can listen to Perthshire Echoes as mood-pictures, evoking the countryside of the Fair County of Perthshire, with the texts of the poems gently laid aside.
The six movements of A Scottish Chap-book “creates a picture of something particularly Scottish, whether a specific place, part of the countryside, a piece of history or a character from Scottish poetry”. A chap-book was usually a small collection of poetry, often no more than forty pages or so. They often majored on a single theme. Moonie’s suite is undated, but I am sure he would have been aware of Hugh MacDiarmid’s serial Scottish Chapbook first published in 1923, even if he was not part of that literary circle. The suite opens with musings on In a Quiet Strath (wide glen or valley). It truly sets the scene, with its typically untroubled progress, but with just a hint of something darker here and there. In The “Kind” Gallows of Crieff, Moonie pushes the boundaries of his musical aesthetic. This is “dissonant and disturbing” as reflecting the sentiment of the title. The Rowing Song restores the idyllic mood, with a setting of an unnamed (and perhaps confected) Highland air decorated by grace notes, typical of West Highland music. It is truly gorgeous, and it brings a tear to any Scot’s eye.
Goblin Ha’ was devised as a reflection of Hobgoblin Hall of Yester Castle near Gifford, East Lothian. It is signed to be played “in an eerie, ‘creepy,’ supernatural manner”. This is Grieg with knobs on. There follows the first of two numbers on this disc called Gaberlunzie. The title is not a place name, a sort of Brigadoon confection, but a Scots word for a licensed beggar. It is a happy little miniature, with a fair bounce, certainly not a commentary on the individual’s status. The final piece, The Country of the Caber Feidh, is initially impressionistic in its evocation of Mackenzie country in Wester Ross. A powerful march follows, evoking the military connections here with several Highland regiments. It ends Grainger-like, “clatteringly”. This should be an encore for all Scots pianists.
The latest work here, the Five Romantic Pieces, were finished when the omposer was in his seventies. The opening number, The Linn, is a wonderful example of “water music”. In Scots, Linn can be a deep pool under a waterfall or a cataract. Pianistic cascades and “splashing” lend colour to this descriptive music. The Idylle also suggests water. The second version of Gaberlunzie follows: it is simply in a different key. There is a depth about Autumn which is both haunting and melancholy. It is elaborate harmonically, and the composer pushes against some of his own conservative boundaries. This is surely about the autumn of life, and not a description of the season in the landscape. The finale is the chromatically-infused Rondino. Pure fun all the way. It reminds me of the ethos of Eugene Goossens’s delightful Kaleidoscope.
Not all this repertoire has a Scottish background. The Five Pieces are undated and have not been published. Guild notes that the first two are “rough copies” where the others are written in immaculate handwriting as if ready for the engraver. The eagle-eyed listener will notice that the Five Pieces take up four tracks. This is because the first number, Autumn is the same work as the fourth in the Five Romantic Pieces. Guild could see little point in recording it twice.
Pensée Fugitive is uneasy and gloomy, reflecting an agitated thought. L’Epinette is Moonie’s attempt at Back to Bach. This well-balanced study mimics the rapid passage work played on a spinet in the 17th century, and something much more thoughtful from a later date. There are some deliciously wayward harmonies. It sounds very challenging to play. The Elegy, harmonically involved, explores whole tone scales. Ariette, quite simply wonderful, presents a complicated matrix of sentiment. It is variously tumultuous, reflective and brooding. This offers a high calibre of pianism and emotional depth. The Five Romantic Pieces tend to give the lie to any view that Moonie was just regurgitating Mendelssohnian clichés. It may not be at the forefront of serialism or the avant-garde, but this is technically proficient music that explores a wide range of tropes from a hundred years of piano composition.
Arabesque nods to Chopin with its piano figuration of the right-hand piano part and the deployment of a mazurka in the trio section. Equally universal is the beautifully wrought Reverie. It reminded me of Liszt’s concert etude Un sospiro. If Reverie had been written by a Continental composer, it would be a regular favourite with pianists and audiences the world over.
The entire recital is played with great empathy and genuine feeling: there is no sense of condescension. The recording is bright and clear. Christopher Guild’s fine notes give a detailed but non-technical analysis of the music. The essay opens with a brief note on W. B. Moonie and an overview of his work. There is the usual CV of the pianist.
In 2012, a CD was sponsored by the legendary Dr David C. F. Wright (Wright Music 102). It included Moonie’s Perthshire Echoes and several of his songs. They were performed by Judith Buckle (mezzo-soprano) and Peter Bailey (piano). Until reading in track listing that the Echoes was the only work not to be a first recording, I had never heard of that album, and there seems little trace of it in the literature. Wised up, I noticed a copy for sale on Amazon.
Christopher Guild is highly regarded as one of the great exponents of Scottish music. Toccata has released his several discs with music by Ronald Center, Ronald Stevenson and Francis George Scott, and I know that he also takes an interest in Scottish composer William Wordsworth. I asked the pianist what plans he has for further instalments of W. B. Moonie’s oeuvre. Now, nothing is definite, but there are tentative plans to record some chamber works and the rest of the piano music. As mentioned above, the catalogue is large, so there are plenty of opportunities. Maybe one of the Scottish orchestras will look at Moonie’s orchestral scores, and give some of them an airing instead of the usual inevitable potboilers.
John France
