The program begins with the First Violin Sonata, op. 15, the premiere of which the notes date to 1962. Despite its brash opening and its spiky dissonances, the 15-odd-minute, three-movement sonata remains accessible, firmly situated in the penumbra of tonality and depending for its effect on stark rhythmic and melodic contrasts. Trickey and Llewelyn-Jones explore these contrasts effectively in the first movement; they’re appropriately bracing in the jagged passages and suggestive in the lyrical ones. They take advantage of the opportunities the plaintive and at times haunting second movement provides for introspection and bring the movement to a sensitive and magical conclusion. After the brief slow introduction, they give a rhythmically infectious performance of the Stravinsky-like finale, with its jaunty repetitions of short motives.

The four-movement and a bit longer Second Sonata, according to the notes, received its premiere in 1984, when the composer had reached the age of 50 (the Guild for the Promotion of Welsh Music commissioned the work for that birthday). Its first movement combines its dissimilar elements in proportions similar to those of the First Sonata’s corresponding movement, except perhaps for the inclusion of motoric passages in the piano. The second movement takes the form of a brusque, two-odd-minute scherzo (similar but more biting than that in Serge Prokofiev’s Second Violin Sonata), and the duo revels in its rhythmic energy. The slow movement begins with a passage with the violin on the G string in which Trickey’s tone approaches a rich viola-like huskiness; the passage consists largely of an extended and somewhat dour rumination. Rhythmic elements return to the fore in the finale, which the performers turn into a virtuosic romp, which nevertheless, like most of the other movements, veers suddenly off into reflection.

If, as the notes suggest, Mathias declined on several occasions to publish the sonata from 1952, the argument that it reveals a stage in his early development, together with the effect of the work itself in a private performance given before the recording took place, seems a natural one based on Trickey’s and Llewelyn-Jones’s convincing advocacy. The first of the three movements, Impetuoso, remains firmly within the traditional harmonic system, but its rhythmic vitality and moving lyrical outpourings foreshadow what would come. Perhaps the work’s tonality influenced the composer to omit it from a collection of his complete works; if so, in the new environment, more tolerant of consonance and harmore....

Review By Mark L Lehman,American Record Guide,July 2011

William Mathias (1934–92) is a Welsh composer who wrote in a modern but tradition-based idiom with affinities to Britten and Walton as well as such continentals as Prokofieff, Stravinsky, and Bartok. His music is beautifully crafted and offers sharply-profiled themes, enriched-but-tonally anchored harmonies, transparent textures, vivid colors, vital (and often syncopated) rhythms, strong forward drive, clear formal logic, and immediate emotional appeal. Mathias quickly gained popularity in England, and though he is less often heard elsewhere, most audiences respond to him readily when they come across his works in concert or on records. I certainly do. There are many recordings, ranging from symphonies (three of them), many concertos, and much vocal music to a considerable body of chamber music including solo sonatas, duos, trios, quartets, and more.

The two mature violin sonatas date from 1962 and 1984. Both are marvelous works that instantly grab the listener with bold, memorable ideas charged with dramatic urgency and nervous excitement. These are nicely played off against slower lyrical ideas that shimmer with sensuous, evocative mystery. Sara Trickey and Iwan Llewelyn-Jones play Mathias with muscular precision and verve, and are captured in appropriately bright, ultra-clear sonics that put a dazzling shine on his ringing, iridescent harmonies. As a bonus they add the first-ever recording of an early violin sonata that dates from 1952 when Mathias was still a teenager. The composer considered it immature and rejected the idea of its publication. The style is (for Mathias) somewhat old-fashioned and romantic, and clearly indebted to Howells, Ireland, Bax, and Bridge; in addition there are a few iffy spots where one wonders if the structural proportions are in perfect balance. But still, this is a distinguished and considerable sonata (with a nifty fugue in the finale) that many a fully formed composer would be happy to acknowledge, and I’ve no doubt that many will admire and enjoy hearing it, as I did.

Collectors may want to know that Mathias’s two mature sonatas are also on Koc…along with his First Piano Trio and some shorter pieces. That’s very well played but not nearly as vividly recorded as this new Naxos. The trio is well worth having, though, so dedicated fans of this composer (like me) will want both releases.