And so they continue to come – one ‘compilation disc’ 
          relentlessly following another: the market for them is seemingly insatiable. 
          Quite who would want to listen to a disc in which Rubinstein’s banal 
          Melody in F sits side by side with the slow movement from Elgar’s 
          Cello Concerto or The Flight of the Bumble Bee with Kol Nidrei 
          is beyond me. That having been said, however, if you were to discard 
          half the items included, at Naxos prices, you would still be getting 
          more than your money’s worth. 
        In raiding their archives Naxos have come up with a 
          generous selection of outstanding performances, the familiar nicely 
          blended with less well-known (such as the charming miniatures by Glazunov 
          and Tchaikovsky). All the soloists are excellent, but pride of place 
          must go to Maria Kliegel, who plays all the ‘serious’ pieces with real 
          distinction. Her account of the Elgar is one of the most moving I have 
          ever heard – a touch over-indulgent some might think, but for me absolutely 
          right, particularly given the extremely sensitive and delicately shaded 
          accompaniment which comes from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted 
          by Michael Halasz. She brings her incisive grasp of mood and idiom no 
          less successfully to the Dvorak and Bruch. 
        Of the shorter pieces I especially warmed to Vytautas 
          Sondeckis’s account of Rachmaninov’s own arrangement for cello and orchestra 
          of his Vocalise; and his Bumble Bee buzzes with tremendous 
          élan. 
        In sum, if you’re looking for a ‘compilation disc’ 
          which offers a broad and well-performed representation of the cello 
          repertoire, look no further than here. 
        
        
        
        Adrian Smith