These two concertos have illustrious recordings to their names, 
                  past and present, but are not natural disc-mates. In fact I’m 
                  struggling to remember a similar coupling. In any case, Valeriy 
                  Sokolov in tandem with Virgin Classics, has decided to harness 
                  them. The fine orchestral accompaniment comes from the Tonhalle 
                  Orchestra, Zurich under David Zinman. 
                    
                  Sokolov has decided ideas about Tchaikovsky but these are not 
                  outsize ones. In fact his approach is subtle, discreet and in 
                  some ways quite small-scale. That certainly relates to his tone, 
                  which is focused but not of much amplitude. It also concerns 
                  his tempo choices, which are quite direct, and sparing of rubati. 
                  His bowing is wristy and supple, unpressured and facile. He 
                  doesn’t dig into the string, like Russian players of old, 
                  but does cultivate a gracious and elegant legato phrasing. It’s 
                  the kind of rather aerial playing that might appeal to those 
                  sated by heavier, big-boned performances or those that rely 
                  on metrical displacements to try to make ‘points’. 
                  His first movement cadenza is up to tempo and though his playing 
                  is hardly one to parade panache it is well-shaded and, in the 
                  slow movement, effective without being at all effusive. The 
                  Zurich winds are malleable here, the chordal framing marshalled 
                  by Zinman being distinctive and a valuable adjunct to the soloist’s 
                  performance. The orchestral patina is indeed carefully shaped, 
                  too, and whilst the finale is hardly the last word in communicative 
                  élan, it remains dignified and of a piece. The folkloric 
                  drone passage is well realised however, so too the whistling 
                  Paganinian harmonics. Detailing remains good, clarity too, albeit 
                  at the cost of a degree of direct emotional engagement. 
                    
                  Bartók’s Concerto No.2 reflects this relatively 
                  objectified stylistic approach quite clearly. There is a certain 
                  reserve, and a reluctance to vary bow pressure and attack to 
                  generate a wide colouristic palette. The consequence is a reading 
                  of moderation, tonal unity and discretion. The elegance and 
                  pathos of the slow movement - good dynamics all-round - is highlit 
                  by Sokolov’s tight trills, whilst the forces catch the 
                  more barbarous moments in the finale adeptly. There are times, 
                  however, when Zinman seems more engaged than the soloist, and 
                  this skewed perspective leads to an emotive battle between heat 
                  and ice, rather than a congruent expressive approach. 
                    
                  Fine though the recording quality is, this qualified approach 
                  to the two works means that one’s response must be somewhat 
                  muted. 
                    
                  Jonathan Woolf