Mackenzie was born in Edinburgh in 1847. After studying at RAM and in Germany,
	  he returned to his home city, soon coming to prominence as a violinist and
	  conductor. He then moved to London in 1885, becoming Principal at RAM in
	  1888. He was an important figure in the early so-called renaissance of 'English'
	  (sic) music: however, unlike, say, Parry and Stanford, with whom he is
	  historically associated, his compositions are only rarely performed now -
	  though again you wonder why listening to this, the second CD devoted to
	  Mackenzie's music in Hyperion's Scottish series.
	  
	  The Violin Concerto was written whilst Mackenzie was living in Tuscany, and
	  was intended for Joachim but after some prevarication he declined to play
	  it and Sarasate premiered the work at the Birmingham Festival in 1885. It
	  lacks any immediately memorable 'big tunes' that might make it an undeniably
	  popular work, and ity carries the obvious mark of both Mendelssohn and Brahms:
	  but if it clearly reveals how much British music was at this time in the
	  shadow of Continental, and more especially Germanic, academic strictures,
	  it is still an easily accessible work, full of pleasing musical quality with
	  continually attractive melodic invention.
	  
	  Pibroch was written for Sarasate, and was fittingly completed
	  whilst in Scotland, at Braemar in August, 1889: the composer called it a
	  'Scottish effusion' and the work reveals a less stifling classicism with
	  more free-ranging musical exposition, akin to his other Scottish pieces,
	  some of which are featured on the first Mackenzie Hyperion disc. The opening
	  Rhapsody is a wonderfully lyrical piece, whilst the Caprice, following an
	  introduction, comprises a sequence of nine variations on the melody of Three
	  Guid Fellows, but with the later introduction of new material? builds
	  to an intricate coda. The theme for the Dance is derived from the 17th century
	  melody, Leslie's Lilt. The Scottishness of the work is more easily
	  assimilated into classical conventions, and helps to give it that extra appeal
	  beyond that often dry, craftsman-like academicism that marked so much of
	  the music of the period.
	  
	  Reviewer
	  
	  Vincent Budd