MATTHEWS Divertimento for Double String Quartet.1 Oboe Quartet No. 1.2 Triptych.3 5 Concertinos for Wind Quintet.4 String Quartet No. 25 • Oliver Knussen Volkov, cond;1,2 Divertimenti Ens;1,2 Melinda Maxwell (ob);2 Schubert Ens;3 Haffner Wind Ens;4 Brindisi Str Qrt5 • NMC 149 (63:30)

Colin Matthews (b. 1946) is a name that crops up regularly as one of the most visible and successful British composers of his generation. This disc is a reissue of a number of recordings of chamber music that come from a couple of decades back—for the record, the dates of the compositions (following the order in the headnote) are 1982, 1981, 1984. 1989–90, and 1985 (revised 1989). The composer is probably most known for his large ensemble works (certainly this is where I had a previous fix on him, via an excellent Deutsche Grammophon release conducted by Oliver Knussen, DG 447 067).

There are a few common elements in these pieces. For one thing, Matthews loves to write music of great intricacy. Note I don’t say “complexity,” as the music seems quite clear throughout, even when there are seemingly millions of scurrying notes. Yet there’s little that could be called “minimalist” here either; there’s constant mutation in the flow of ideas. Not for nothing is Elliott Carter cited as a father figure, and Richard Strauss’s Metamorphosen used as a point of departure for the Divertimento for Double String Quartet.

There’s also a love of delicacy. There is a lot of filigree in this music, though it’s never frivolous. Think elaborate spider webs instead. Matthews is a composer who likes to superimpose ideas and even forms: thus, the Oboe Quartet No. 1 is made up of 10 variations, interacting simultaneously with 15 sections comprising every possible trio subset of the ensemble. And then there’s rhythm. Much of this music seems related to a French aesthetic, in particular the “fire and ice” of Boulez. Yet unlike much French music of recent vintage, Matthews’s projects some sort of more primal underlying beat. Perhaps it’s a somber, slower tread, or a sinister march, or a lighter dance, a modern refraction of a Renaissance form. (One example is the third movement of the wind quintet, a quirky polymetric march.) Over time, I find this quality in a lot of newer English music, at least that which veers toward neither minimalism nor “new complexity.”

Though Matthews can cut loose (the Scherzo of the String Quartet being perhaps the most raucous example), the overall impression I still get from this recording is of restraint. He obviously likes music that doesn’t strain, doesn’t force itself on the listener, and suggests depths of thought and passion beneath a deceptively quiet or distant surface. Though muted strings are actually in a minority of the music presented here, their gossamer sound is one of the most striking effects left in memory.

With all these real virtues—intellectually driven music that is not academic—I have to admit I still find it a little distant. It has real passion, but that passion seems to be above all for solving particular music problems and meeting specific musical challenges. Not a bad thing at all, and I admire Matthews’s work, but I don’t find it transporting me to another world, opening up vistas I hadn’t previously conceived.

Still, these are immaculate performances, and this is an excellent composer-portrait of an artist who rewards the attention given.

FANFARE: Robert Carl