Moorland Symphonies – An Introduction to the Music of Arthur Butterworth
by Paul ConwayPublished 2023164 pp, Paperback
ISBN978-1-7393857-0-5
Lyrita Recorded Edition SRCD9415
Lyrita’s name is synonymous with many of the finest recordings of 20th Century British music. I was not aware that their commitment to this corner of the repertoire extended to the printed word as well. In some ways this new book reminds me of publications from Thames Publishing where relatively short books focussed on the life and work of composers otherwise neglected. Author Paul Conway’s avowed intent is; “[to] offer a starting-point for an exploration of Arthur Butterworth’s music. If the reader is thereby encouraged to explore further, it will have served its purpose”. Certainly on that front Conway succeeds although that success will be thwarted for many readers – as the included discography shows – by the relative lack of commercial recordings of this music.
In the preface Conway explains that the book starts as an “early years” biography of Butterworth which then morphs into a chronological survey of the music he composed with biographical detail now providing a framework and context for the music’s composition. With over one hundred and fifty works in Butterworth’s catalogue, Conway has chosen certain key works for detailed discussion while others are simply referenced. This strikes me as a sensible and reasonable approach within the book’s remit. For the biographical detail Conway relies heavily on the composer’s own unpublished autobiography and a series of interviews and written communications they had between 2001 and 2014. Certainly that first-hand narrative gives parts of the text a subjective first-person view that is insightful but risks a lack of critical objectivity. Clearly Butterworth knew what he liked in music and knew what he did well. So there can be tantalisingly passing references to “an aversion to the human voice”, loathing Mahler, disliking jazz alongside lifelong admiration for Elgar, Sibelius, Nielsen and Vaughan Williams amongst others.
Growing up in industrial Lancashire in the 20’s and 30’s Butterworth’s early musical influences came from the brass band movement – especially where it was allied to local churches or church organisations – and also school where he learnt the basic building blocks of music. Opportunities, one suspects, that simply do not exist or are not offered to all children any more within the state education system. Post-War Butterworth spent several years as trumpeter in Scotland and latterly with the Hallé under Barbirolli who gave him his first major ‘break’ as a composer when his Symphony No.1 was premiered at the Cheltenham Festival on July 19th 1957 where it was a major critical success. Logically this is one of the works Conway focuses on and he offers the reader a useful description (rather than technical analysis) of the work alongside musical illustrations within the text. I enjoyed the insights but also the enthusiasm of Conway’s writing.
In 1962 Butterworth left the Hallé and the world of the professional orchestral player and became involved in instrumental education within Yorkshire. As well as providing a steady income this also allowed him the extra time to devote to composition as well as conducting within both the professional and amateur music scenes. So from that point on the amount of music produced increases. Again Conway makes the point that Butterworth wrote works – often on commission or for artists he admired – in genres he related to. Hence there is little vocal or choral music, no operas (or theatrical music in general), no film scores. Given his natural flair for orchestration and instrumental colour the latter is perhaps surprising. A recurring theme is the significance of place – specifically Northern England – in Butterworth’s music. This is not simply a case of writing illustrative pastoral music but somehow imbuing his work with the spirit of both the land and also the people who inhabit it.
I suspect the scale/length of the book required the conflation of the biographical and musical elements but the effect for the reader is that you jump from a chamber work to a symphony and then onto a brass band work. Now of course that is the reality for most composers who write what is required or inspires them at any given time. For the outsider trying to get more of an overview of the body of work it is perhaps easier to understand similarities and differences within a specific genre. As mentioned, the other frustration is that when a description of a work piques the reader’s interest the likelihood that that work can be listened to is low. The discography lists three of the six symphonies (oddly the Dutton version of Symphony No.4 is listed twice), two concertante works, some nine smaller orchestral works – most appearing coupled to Dutton’s recording of Symphony No.5, a handful of chamber works and some brass band works mainly collected on a single disc devoted to Butterworth on Doyen. The hope must be that Lyrita – whose recorded catalogue of Butterworth currently offers just a single Itter archive release of Symphonies 1,2 & 4 – will partner this book with some new recordings of key works currently unavailable.
Conway writes with articulate insight and enthusiasm about the music revealing an extensive knowledge and appreciation of Butterworth’s entire output. In so doing he successfully encourages the reader to explore further. My own personal feeling – regarding the relatively small part of Butterworth’s total output that I know – is that his most enduring work might well be in the field of brass ensemble and band writing. Regardless of genre his craft and skill is never in doubt but I sometimes struggle to find a striking individuality to lift his music away from many other equally skilfully written scores. Somehow the brass music does have this additional spark of genius alongside the craft.
After the main biographical text which covers 119 pages and ten chapters, this book includes useful brief descriptions of Butterworth’s use of style, instrumentation, form and tonality. Butterworth’s answers to questions for possible inclusion in the 1963 “British Composers in Interview” is reprinted here (it was not used in the original book). Then there are a series of appendixes which include a chronological list of works with dates of first performances but no indication of scoring. The discography highlights how much of Butterworth’s work still remains to be more widely known. Appendix E offers some of the most interesting insights. It consists of edited transcripts of conversations between Butterworth and Conway with sub-headings including “Butterworth on Barbirolli….” or “Butterworth on Elgar” and a couple of others. The opinions offered are clearly fascinating but perhaps more so is the sense of getting an insight into the process and thought or motivation behind the word. As a side note the curious reader should investigate the treasure-trove of similar articles that Butterworth wrote for MusicWeb International. Regardless of whether one is interested in Butterworth the composer these are genuinely valuable essays with opinions entertainingly expressed and well written.
So overall this is a book which satisfyingly achieves its stated aim. The actual physical format I find slightly unwieldy. As is the modern preference this has a glued spine and a soft cover. But the larger than average page size, 24.5 x 18.5 cm, means that the total of 164 pages ‘flop’ slightly when being handled. I am one of those slightly obsessive book readers/holders who hates a broken spine on a book so this format challenges my preference of keeping books in pristine condition! As mentioned Conway’s written style and depth of knowledge is attractive and impressive. I doubt this book will instigate an international revival and appreciation of Butterworth’s work and achievements but I imagine it will remain the reference work on this composer, his life and work for the foreseeable future.
Nick Barnard
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Previous review: Rob Barnett (June 2023)
