It is nothing short
of a tragedy that, when Patrick Piggott
died in May 1990, he was but little
known as a composer. As a pianist he
was one of the finest and most sensitive
this country has ever produced – yet
memories of his playing must now have
faded even in the minds of those who
were privileged to hear him. It is incomprehensible
that no commercial recordings were made,
for his performances and broadcasts
were not infrequent and he could, had
he wished, have exercised some leverage
in his position as head of BBC music,
Midland Region (1965-69). Although trained
as a pianist much in demand as recitalist,
he chose to devote most of his energies
to composition – and though he was thereafter
very well served by his interpreters,
he was ever conscious of what he called
"the pull of the piano." It
is certainly true that he wrote music
of considerable virtuosity as will be
seen from this brilliant and exciting
long-awaited recording by Malcolm Binns
for whom so much of Piggott’s music,
including a fine one-movement Piano
Concerto, was written and who provides
a personal touch here in his introductory
memoir.
Patrick Piggott studied
piano with Harold Craxton at the RAM.
Significantly he also studied composition
with Benjamin Dale, which was to have
a considerable influence on his later
work. Among his several scholarships
was the coveted Mendelssohn prize which
took him to Paris to study with Nadia
Boulanger. He might have been expected
therefore to take his place in British
music with Rawsthorne, Berkeley and
Tippett. But the influence of Dale,
and the conflict between playing and
composition continued throughout his
life. One deciding factor which weighed
in favour of composition, at least in
the latter half of his life, was arthritis
which bedevilled his later years and
gradually made playing impossible.
A fastidious critic
of his own work he disowned much of
his early compositions (including several
orchestral works) which he considered
curiously as ‘invalid’. From the early
1960s therefore only a few works were
chosen to survive – the first set of
Preludes (he wrote three sets of 8 and
added a Postlude to the last set recorded
here) – a Baxian Nocturne for Violin
and orchestra – the first of his three
String Quartets – and the first work
on this present disc which dates from
Sep-Dec 1961.
This is a big conception
which he revised in 1975 – restless
and lyrical by turns. It is in three
movements, the slow movement being placed
last and is in the form of an Elegy
– De Profundis in Memoriam, and
is an elegy for his mother. Just why
he chose to adopt the Beethovenian title
of Fantasia quasi una Sonata is
not immediately clear – but a prominent
figure in the final movement seems clearly
to echo the theme of the slow movement
of Beethoven’s Sonata opus 109.
That this is an important
motif for Piggott is underlined by its
reappearance in the music of the Second
Sonata and elsewhere. The opening of
the Sonata exposes first and second
subject material in a brief 33 bars,
repeated., with some delicate and characteristic
filigree patterns and a dramatic ‘rise’
figure in octaves that has connections
with both the second Sonata and with
the Concerto.
The second movement
is brusque – a rough gesture answering
a quiet figure which however generates
much of the forward movement. Its scherzo-like
development is rhythmic and flirtatious
with hammering 6ths and 2nds driving
to a martellato conclusion. The last
movement opens with a 12-note row theme,
the first four notes of which are characteristic
recalling Rawsthorne’s interlocked thirds.
Its development also echoes the Beethoven
theme which has some link with the opening
motif in inversion. The music becomes
more anguished and leads to a tragic
funeral march passage. This cry of agony
gradually diminishes but with intense
feeling, dying to a quiet ‘niente’ conclusion.
The Second Sonata is
very different. The theme, urgent and
carried on a swift undercurrent of semiquavers,
materialises into another octave figure
which dominates the opening pages up
to the poco meno mosso second
subject. This is marked liberamente
and waxes quite romantic before
culminating in aggressive chords. A
quasi-fugal passage follows, the aggressive
chords return, thinning out into the
octave figure heard earlier – and the
last section uses all the foregoing
material. The second movement is in
the form of variations. A short introduction
seems to deal with weighty matters.
The theme however is a beautifully decorated
Sarabande, the music very reminiscent
of Szymanowski. The first variation,
a nebulous pattern of semiquavers, gradually
exposes a rising melody motif related
to the opening movement of the Sonata.
The second variation is even more decorative.
An Allegro scherzoso variation
follows, staccato and insistent which
leads straight into a broad Brioso
chordal few bars. Patterns play
a big part in Piggott’s language – and
here the music strongly recalls patterns
from John Ireland. And here once again
the ‘Beethoven’ figure appears in shadow,
then prominently against a throbbing
accompaniment.
The final movement
is concerned with two motifs – a powerful
and threatening octave pattern and a
songful melody in the inner parts. The
opening music from the beginning of
the Sonata leads to a dramatic conclusion
in insistent octaves.
Piggott wrote the obligatory
24 Preludes which however follow no
tonal pattern – and are in random keys,
with some without a tonal centre. To
these he added a Postlude which is a
cortege-like reflection on, and perhaps
summing up of, the earlier conflicts.
Yet it ends in a mood of self doubt,
or even apprehension which was part
of Piggott’s make-up. These Preludes
are no lightweight counterbalance to
the strenuous virility of the Sonatas.
Again they are virtuosic, with the now
recognisable patterns of semiquavers
and octaves. The second is related to
the Sarabande from the second Sonata,
the third a sprightly Allegretto. The
fourth seems about to quote Beethoven
again, and is succeeded by a driving
Alla Bulgara. A con moto pattern
in the sixth, rushing like wind over
water, is followed by a sensuously beautiful
Lento whose delicacy is rudely banished
by the final Con Furia. The concluding
Postlude muses over previous material
and rounds off all the Preludes with
a tolling bell.
Malcolm Binns has the authoritative
voice borne of his close relationship
with the composer and gives a valuable
insight into this complex and extremely
difficult music. The recording is exceptionally
well balanced allowing Piggott's filigree
patterns and the more tempestuous passages
both to be heard with absolute clarity.
It is to be hoped that with this introduction
we shall hear much more of this forgotten
composer.
Colin Scott-Sutherland
British
Music Society Recordings
Malcolm Binns (piano) 
