Encores for Mr Scotts

Ries La Capricciosa; Falla: La vida breve: Danse espagnole (Arr. for Violin & Piano by Fritz Kreisler) ; 7 Canciones populares españolas: No. 4, Jota (Arr. for Violin & Piano by Paul Kochanski); Raff: Cavatina for violin & piano (or orchestra), Op. 85 No. 3; Strauss, R: Der Rosenkavalier, Op. 59, TrV 227: Der Rosenkavalier Waltzer; Kreisler: Tempo di minuetto in the Style of Pugnani; Hill, Alfred: Zephyrs; Kreisler: Variations on a Theme by Corelli (in the style of Tartini); Poldini: Marionettes: No. 2, La poupée valsante (Arr. for Violin & Piano by Fritz Kreisler); Novácek, O: 8 Concert Caprices, Op. 5: No. 4, Perpetuum mobile; Kreisler: 3 Old Viennese Dances: No. 2, Liebesleid; Gerald Walenn: Humoresque; Heinz Provost: Intermezzo "Souvenir de Vienne" ; Glazunov: 2 Pieces for Cello & Orchestra, Op. 20: No. 2, Sérénade espagnole (Arr. for Violin & Piano by Fritz Kreisler); Lorenzo Camilieri: Romanza; Jean Henri Ravina: 25 Études mignonnes, Op. 60: No. 3, Valse staccato (Arr. for Violin & Piano by Josef Piastro-Borissof); Chaminade: Sérénade espagnole, Op. 150 (Arr. for Violin & Piano by Fritz Kreisler); Karel Jan Zoubek: Two Minutes Jazz; Ernest Moeran: Mantle of Blue;

Patrick Savage violin Martin Cousin piano

Quartz QTZ2177
https://quartzmusic.com/

Encores are, by their nature, the sweets handed round after the main course. We have all heard most of these many times over, but rarely in one sitting, and here they come neatly packed into a generous album that turns out to be rather more than a collection of crowd-pleasers.

Encores for Mr Scotts is violinist Patrick Savage’s personal homage, with pianist Martin Cousin, to Donald Scotts (1927–2024), the Australian violinist who taught him for twelve years. Scotts was a figure of real stature in his home country. He was Associate Concertmaster of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and led the Melbourne String Quartet, while building a fine solo career alongside. To the young Savage, though, he was simply “Mr Scotts”, the man worth a two-hour train ride into Melbourne every fortnight for a lesson.

Shortly before his death, Scotts gave his former pupil the scores he had gathered over a lifetime of playing, and nearly every piece here comes from that bequest. That gives the programme its character. Much of this music vanished from publishers’ catalogues long ago, and what survives in the collection tells you as much about Scotts’ personality as about the concerts he gave. Savage wanted the album to bring back the teacher he knew: a player of charm and dazzling technique, quick to laugh and generous to a fault. He makes a pointed case against the familiar myth of the great teacher as a tyrant at the music stand. This is a recording in praise of kindness in the teaching room, and it is all the more appealing for it.

Kreisler is well represented, as one would expect, but the real interest lies in the byways. There are two first recordings, Lorenzo Camilieri’s Romanza and Gerald Walenn’s Humoresque. Alongside them come Joachim Raff’s Cavatina, the softly drifting Zephyrs of the Australian composer Alfred Hill, and Ravina’s Valse Staccato in Josef Piastro-Borissoff’s arrangement, a piece of pure, effortless charm.

The booklet notes, themselves nicely produced, admit that some items earned their place for one reason only: Scotts would have played them brilliantly. They describe Franz Ries’s La Capricciosa as delightfully unhinged. It is a fair description, and a welcome one in a genre that can sometimes take its charm a little too seriously. Scotts, by all accounts, loved surprising a recital audience with something they had never heard, so this crop of forgotten pieces feels exactly right.

My own favourites were Kreisler’s Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Váša Příhoda’s dazzling reworking of the waltzes from Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier and Poldini’s Dancing Doll, which trips along on the lightest of feet. Karel Jan Zoubek’s cheeky Two Minutes Jazz shows off Savage’s rhythmic snap to fine effect. He moves from one mood to the next with real sensitivity, finding sweetness without syrup and sparkle without showing off.

His tone is warm and richly textured, caught beautifully in the Menuhin Hall at Cobham, and Cousin is an ideal partner throughout: never intrusive, always there. Both players shape the dynamics and the swells with obvious enjoyment, and Cousin’s playing in Glazunov’s Sérénade espagnole is a particular delight.

Ernest Moeran’s Mantle of Blue brings proceedings to a gentle close. It is a graceful salute to Scotts, whose recordings of Moeran’s chamber music are still held in high regard.

I admit I sat down expecting a pleasant box of chocolates. What I found was a portrait. The disc has charm and personality in abundance, qualities I suspect Mr Scotts had too, and few teachers can have been thanked so gracefully.