If nothing else, this record shows how hard some Russian composers of the second rank have found it to escape from under the shadow of their distinguished nineteenth-century forebears. Gliere's Solemn Overture, written in 1937 to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the Revolution, deals in exuberant fanfares and fruity tunes fruitily scored: it is really an updated version of the genre explored by Rimsky-Korsakov in his Russian Easter Festival Overture, and bears the same relation to that piece as Walton's ceremonial marches do to Elgar's. Tcherepnin is, not surprisingly, haunted by Tchaikovsky in his ballet suite, and though he tries to exorcise the ghost of the great man with a few mild modernisms, he is really happiest when doing his quite inventive best in familiar nineteenth-century vein. There is a nice Grand Waltz.
The Violin Concerto by Georgy Konius is the most substantial work here. Though Konius, details of whom are hard to find in English musical dictionaries, studied with Arensky and Taneyev, it is at least as much Glazunov whose music is suggested in this concerto. It is, then, a sumptuous late-romantic work, lyrical in impulse, elegant melodically, richly emotional and with a warm heart, worn of course on the sleeve. Konius was himself a distinguished violinist, a pupil of Tchaikovsky's friend Hrimaly, and gave the first performance in 1896; it was heard in 1904 by Kreisler, who took it up enthusiastically and was still performing it as late as 1940. It is more of its time than the other works on the record, and may well give pleasure to lovers of Glazunov's and indeed of Tchaikovsky 's concertos. Sergei Stadler plays it eloquently and enthusiastically, in just the right manner and the recording is excellent in bringing out tie orchestral colours here and in the other two works. The notes are insecure on spelling, grammar and transliteration.'