Dutton continues its exploration of neglected British fare with two more enterprising discs, both housing performances and recordings that do credit to all concerned. I say ‘British’ but actually the coupling of string quartets by Edgar Bainton (1880-1956) and Hubert Clifford (1904-59) pairs two figures with strong Antipodean ties: London-born Bainton emigrated to Australia in 1934, while four years previously Clifford (who studied composition under Fritz Hart at the Melbourne Conservatoire) had moved in the other direction, joining the BBC’s Overseas Music Department and eventually becoming the Corporation’s head of light music.

Listening ‘blind’ to Bainton’s 1915 A major Quartet, I was struck by its distinctly continental flavour, so it came as less of a surprise to discover that the work was in fact composed while Bainton was interned in the Ruhleben civilian camp near Berlin. It’s a most engaging discovery, beautifully imagined for the medium (Bainton’s translucent textures in the ravishing slow movement remind me of Howells’s precocious chamber music from this same period) and full of lovely ideas. The toothsome finale was added for the work’s 1920 revision. Clifford’s 1935 quartet is less immediately striking but still displays enviable fluency and assurance. Both composers are impeccably served by the Locrian Ensemble.

The epic, craggy and windswept First Symphony of 1957 by the Mancunian Arthur Butterworth (b1923) impressed me when I welcomed Douglas Bostock’s world premiere recording on Classico (10/99) – there are four other symphonies and plenty more besides still awaiting exposure on disc. Similarly, I find myself favourably disposed towards the three chamber offerings presented here. Commissioned by the 1983 Cheltenham Festival to celebrate Butterworth’s 60th birthday, the First Piano Trio is a satisfyingly meaty, honestly felt creation in three linked movements with echoes of Sibelius’s incidental music to The Tempest (more specifically ‘The Oak Tree’) and Sixth Symphony in the second and third movements respectively. Its taut and vigorous successor was written over the summer of 2004 and finds the octogenarian composer firing on all cylinders.

The Viola Sonata dates from the early 1980s but was not heard until 1993, though in the booklet Butterworth tells us that he had been obliged to jettison an earlier attempt in 1949 when he took up full-time duties as a trumpeter first with the Scottish National Orchestra and then Barbirolli’s Hallé. It’s yet another heart-warming, well made work in which the composer acknowledges a debt to Bax’s marvellous essay in the medium. Eminently accomplished and convincing performances from the Terroni Trio and viola player Morgan Goff. Exemplary presentation, too. A job well done.