This disc is one of twenty one releases in ASV's Platinum celebration 
          series, mid-price reissues of some of the label's highlights, alongside 
          new recordings. Here Bartók's chamber works are afforded a highly 
          representative compilation. 
        
 
        
This composer is one of the great misrepresented, in 
          that he is often perceived as difficult when that is very rarely the 
          case. Granted that some parts of some of the string quartets do require 
          (and reward) intensive listening, but it does a great disservice to 
          Bartók's legacy to perpetuate the idea that his music is inaccessible 
          or astringent. Quite how rhythmicity, humour and a true vigour have 
          been labelled avant-garde is truly perplexing. This disc is one that 
          highlights the chamber music but I would direct anyone who doubts Bartók's 
          greatness and mainstream relevance first to pieces like the masterpiece 
          Concerto for Orchestra and also the Two Portraits and 
          Two Pictures, plus of course the various concertante works (Yo-Yo 
          Ma's Viola Concerto, actually performed on the upright alto-violin, 
          is a must have!). 
        
 
        
Michael Collins is a clarinettist of true greatness 
          and his account of the Benny Goodman commissioned Contrasts is 
          a good example, like the last movement of the Concerto for Orchestra, 
          of a great Eastern European spirit informed by the American surroundings 
          of its genesis, be it the Copland-style outdoors feel of the orchestral 
          work or the jazz soundings of the current piece. 
        
 
        
I have to admit to a preference for the orchestral 
          version of the (again folk inspired) Dance Suite but Peter Frankl's 
          account for piano solo is more than adequate. The Romanian Folk Dances, 
          despite their relative brevity are, to this listener at least, an absolutely 
          idiomatic Bartók piece. The piano version here is no more or 
          less affecting than the version for violin and piano duet (Joshua Bell 
          has fairly recently made this his own although the composer's own admittedly 
          crackly recording with Szigeti himself ought to be heard - pure electricity!). 
          Allegro barbaro is quintessential Bartók and probably 
          needs no analysis beyond recognition of its title. The only similar 
          music that I can think of that even touches it is the second piece in 
          Dohnanyi's superb Ruralia Hungarica. 
        
 
        
The Lindsays I have long admired for their Beethoven, 
          particularly the late quartets, and here with Bartók's final 
          effort in the genre they do not disappoint. Despite being a great deal 
          less immediate in appeal than the other pieces on this disc, the quartet 
          is fully worthy of its inclusion in a representative collection and 
          compares very favourably with the (on the face of it!) more temperamentally 
          suited Talich Quartet on the now defunct Collins label. Less bleak than 
          Shostakovich and with more tunes, if you are prepared to listen for 
          them, than the comparative efforts of the second Viennese school, Bartók 
          once again proves his humanity and as such his utter worth as a composer. 
          I first encountered his music, in transmogrified form, as a teenager 
          in the 70s on the first ELP LP but now he occupies a special and connected 
          place alongside VW (Ralph, not the car!) in my affections. 
        
 
        
This is a lovely disc, no-one buying it could be disappointed 
          and, as a first recommendation after this, get the Naxos Viola Concerto/Two 
          Pictures disc, the Philips/Eloquence three piano concertos with 
          Colin Davis and Kovacevich and Concerto for Orchestra (Janssons, 
          if you need digital, or Ormandy, both on EMI) all at bargain price. 
          What are you waiting for? 
        
 
        
Neil Horner