This latest instalment in Hyperion’s Romantic Violin Concerto series 
            brings us two concertos which, in a sweeping generalisation, might 
            be regarded as works more notable for their singing qualities than 
            for their display opportunities. I mean no disrespect to Glazunov 
            or to his eminently attractive concerto when I say that pride of place 
            must go to the concerto by the Swiss composer, Othmar Schoeck for, 
            after all, this is a work that you will be lucky to encounter in the 
            concert hall and even recordings of it are not exactly legion.
             
            Schoeck is today known principally for his lieder and, as 
            Calum MacDonald relates in his highly informative notes, his output 
            for orchestra sans voice was not extensive. The present concerto 
            was his most substantial concert work and was written when he had 
            come under the spell of the Hungarian violinist, Stefi Geyer. Though 
            Geyer did not premiere the work she did take it up later and there’s 
            a 1947 recording by her, conducted by Volkmar Andrae, who conducted 
            one of the work’s earliest performances. I’ve not heard that recording 
            and I hope it’s still available for Rob Barnett was enthusiastic about 
            it (review).
             
            Schoeck’s concerto really does deserve a wide audience for it is a 
            hugely attractive work and for much of the time the violin spins lines 
            of enchanting lyricism; indeed, it’s one of those concertos in which 
            the soloist is rarely silent. The first movement, in which the musical 
            language is warm and romantic, has some forthright episodes but for 
            the most part it’s lyricism that predominates and the solo violin 
            sings and soars most appealingly. The second movement does seem to 
            have some darker undercurrents, which are confined to the orchestra, 
            and there are some passionate moments but again one’s ear is caught 
            mainly by the long melodic lines that Schoeck gives his soloist; not 
            for nothing was he a notable composer of lieder. Around the 
            seven-minute mark there’s a significant episode that anticipates the 
            finale. This last movement eventually follows on without a break and 
            this starts in a lively vein. Both soloist and orchestra project this 
            dancing music most winningly. However, Schoeck is seemingly unable 
            to resist the temptation of a slower, more reflective episode – which, 
            admittedly, is rather lovely – and thereafter the music alternates 
            between reappearances of the lively material and more ruminative passages. 
            In fact, though it began the movement the lively music never really 
            completely asserts itself and it comes as a mild surprise when, after 
            all the lyrical music that’s gone before, both in the finale and in 
            the concerto as a whole, Schoeck ends the piece in a lively fashion.
             
            Rob Barnett suggested that perhaps there is too much lyrical music 
            in this work for its own good and it’s hard to disagree. However, 
            give me that any day in preference to the empty fiddling fireworks 
            in some of the nineteenth-century concertos that virtuosi have so 
            often used as vehicles to show off their technical prowess. Chloë 
            Hanslip seems to me to make an excellent job of the solo part; the 
            long, singing lines and her sweet tone could have been made for each 
            other. How appropriate that a concerto by a Swiss composer should 
            be played by a Swiss orchestra; the Orchestra della Svizzera Italiana 
            under Alexander Vedernikov prove to be fine and sensitive accompanists.
             
            The Glazunov concerto also goes very well. Once again, lyricism is 
            to the fore, at least in the first two movements, and this aspect 
            of the work seems to suit Miss Hanslip very well. I loved the delicacy 
            with which she and the orchestra deliver the first few minutes of 
            the slow movement. The cadenza is part of the slow movement (from 
            7:41) and this is an opportunity for what I might call thoughtful 
            display rather than fireworks. The high spirited finale is delightful 
            and engaging and the present performance sparkles. Brian Wilson felt 
            that Chloë Hanslip’s performance was rather more restrained than what 
            one often hears and he also felt the accompaniment was “unadventurous” 
            (review). 
            He may be right in the second of those reservations, 
            though I must admit I thought the orchestral contribution was perfectly 
            satisfactory. I am sure that other violinists have injected more dash 
            into the solo part but I think Miss Hanslip’s is a view of the concerto 
            that is enjoyable in its own right even if not the last word on the 
            work.
             
            The two short pieces by Glazunov are attractive and well done here 
            even if neither work exactly set my pulse racing.
             
            The recordings are good and so, as I indicated earlier, are the notes 
            by Calum MacDonald. If you value rhapsodic, lyrical violin playing 
            then I think you may come to regard this disc as a winner, particularly 
            for the Schoeck concerto.
             
            John Quinn
             
            See also review 
            by Rob Barnett (March Recording of the Month) and download 
            review by Brian Wilson
          
             
            This disc is a winner, particularly for the Schoeck concerto.