Clara Butt’s discography in the Record Collector runs
to some twenty-nine pages – including many rejected and unpublished
titles amongst which are songs by Brahms, Schubert, Hahn and Rachmaninov.
Her recordings were staples of the British and Imperial catalogue and
the discs in volume one of Marston’s survey run from the HMVs of 1909
to the late acoustic Columbias of July 1925. The excellent sleeve-note
writer Michael Aspinall has divided the selection thematically – Handel,
Opera – not mutually exclusive but one gets the point – Classical song,
the cruel sea, Victorian ballads of sentiment and so on. This means
that the selection does not run chronologically and nor is it afraid
to delve back and forth, spanning the acoustic years with vivid sweep
and real verve.
Butt’s contralto voice is still a contentious one principally
but not exclusively for the question of registral breaks when she overused
her chest register by pushing it too high. This, coupled with a perceived
stentorian or sententious delivery in lighter songs, sometimes lent
her singing a somewhat portentous quality, which were exacerbated by
what have been called her "baritonal effects." This is the
Clara Butt whose memory has been solidified as the Matronly Conscience
of the Empire. With the occasional vices, however, and they can’t easily
be denied, come a still remarkable array of musical gifts. One of the
most astounding is her sense of narrative, which manifests itself in
oratorio, song or ballad as a compelling control of line; supporting
this comes a control of legato, dynamic variance, a remarkable compass,
the ability occasionally to spin and float an elfin and soft tone –
her flexibility in this respect refutes the received image of her battleship
reputation. The increasingly obvious frailties of voice breaks manifested
themselves rather later than these acoustics so whilst there
are moments of over robust exaggeration or indulgence the majority of
these varied pieces show her in her finest form.
The Handel records that begin the discs are excellent
examples of Butt’s occasional floridities and exploitation of chest
register. They also demonstrate that she had a real coloratura in which
respect the aria from Alessandro is absolutely outstanding. No registral
problems hamper her, the divisions are even, the enunciation is clear
even if her Italian is imperfect, and the aria utterly alive. The aria
from Sosarme shows what has been called her "portamento style"
complete with a splendid ear for variance of dynamics. Yes there can
be misgivings; the Gluck, cello rich and moving though it is, does reveal
those little moments of phrase ending fluttery vibrato, which can plague
her delivery (it occasionally troubles in Fauré for example).
But her Saint-Saëns is really excellent, all her registers integrated
and sung with passionate affection, and Don Carlos is dramatic and fiery
– with a trumpeting lower register. I’m sure that Hamilton Harty would
have raised a whimsical Hillsborough eyebrow at the typo in the booklet
that renders his surname Hartly but his contribution to Beethoven’s
In questa tomba oscura is dramatic and mausoleum black. Butt is in one
of her more oratorical moods here but there is a certain imperishable
nobility and dramatic force that can’t be gainsaid, even if one finds
it just too much. A 1909 coupling of Annie Scott and Fauré offers
a study in her simplicity that opens out into forceful declamation (the
former) and the light, floated style in which she lightens and refines
her voice (the latter). In the section marked The cruel sea we find
Hullah’s Three fishers went sailing in which her narrative command and
portamento rich floated tone manifest themselves once again. Despite
those occasional gear changes and a descent to the baritonal there is
an inwardness and a communicative intimacy that conveys with richness
the true meaning of the text. It’s true that in an analogous song, Women
of Inver, one can hear her preparing for that downward extension but
when the effect is so moving the mechanisms involved somehow become
subsumed into the greater whole.
The second disc offers comparable rewards. The most
important of the items – which includes an unpublished 1910 HMV, Batten’s
Peace and rest – are the Elgar. In the selections from Gerontius with
tenor Maurice D’Oisley and conducted by Henry Wood. D’Oisley was a fine
musician with a slight baritonal burnish at the bottom of his compass
and with a tone not quite as "centred" as, say, Heddle Nash.
Wood is flexible and full of ear catching rubati, forwardly moving,
and strong. Butt is free as well and forceful; intensely rewarding to
listen to her in this literature. In the lighter repertoire, characterized
here as Songs about or for children, she can use her lower register
to powerfully scaled effect (My treasure) or once more mine her often
overlooked powers of delicacy and sensitivity (The fairy pipers). Trivial
stuff maybe but still beautifully executed. Hatton’s The enchantress
is a song guaranteed to draw from her considerable powers of expression
and so it proves, with her fearless octave leaps and plentiful chest
register. The unpublished Batten song is good with no really disruptive
blemish and represents a worthwhile retrieval; other Butt records have
surfaced in the last few years so let’s hope Marston will be able to
give us more of them.
Cameo appearances by Butt’s husband, the baritone Kennerley
Rumford and by her singing sisters Pauline, Hazel and Ethel add their
own period charms. The documentation is attractive with a number of
evocative Edwardian photographs and postcards of the singer, matrix
and issue numbers all present and correct, as one would expect from
a company like Marston, and these are conspicuously successful transfers
by Ward Marston himself. Roll on volume two.
Jonathan Woolf
Clara Butt, contralto with
piano and various accompaniments; Orchestra conducted by Henry Wood except
Beethoven (Hamilton Harty) and German (Thomas Beecham) 