Both 
                  these works followed hard on the heels of the ending of the 
                  Second World War. The Cello Concerto was begun at the start 
                  of 1947 and finished quickly; there had been a run-through of 
                  the first two completed movements with the distinguished Paul 
                  Grümmer - Schoeck himself at the piano - but the premiere was 
                  given by Pierre Fournier in 1948 in Zurich. 
                  Those who know and admire the somewhat earlier Violin Concerto, 
                  written for Stefi Geyer and whose premiere recording is available 
                  on Jecklin (though a better transfer was on Lys) 
                  will perhaps find the Cello Concerto less immediately impressive. 
                  The earlier string concerto contains themes of palpable warmth 
                  and great lyrical beauty. But the charm of the Cello Concerto 
                  increases with each hearing and there are things in it of real 
                  significance. 
                Opening 
                  lyrically there’s also a stalking rhythmic impulse that recurs 
                  throughout the long-ish quarter of an hour Allegro moderato. 
                  There may be hints of an Elgarian kind of syntax but it’s the 
                  shared chamber intimacies that most reveal themselves – of texture 
                  and of mood, of refinement but also of a quiet melancholy. The 
                  double stops for the soloist that start the slow movement soon 
                  give way to a rich cantilena, rather beautiful, moving, compact 
                  and powerfully argued. The multi-faceted nature of the concerto 
                  is further cemented by a deliberately quasi-archaic Gigue of 
                  a scherzo. To an ostinato orchestral accompaniment the music 
                  lightens and cleanses in this brisk immersion into this not-quite 
                  foray into neo-classicism. Adopting the four-movement concerto 
                  model the finale opens with a lento section that gradually screws 
                  itself up and drives forward. In terms of tempo and dynamics 
                  things grow in size and the lyrical uplift is really unmistakeable 
                  with the soloist acrobatically giving vent to now-secure confidence.  
                  The performances are convincing; the strings of South West German 
                  Chamber Orchestra, Pforzheim can be rather thin and lack weight 
                  and Berger has rather a nasal tone but otherwise there’s no 
                  undue lingering and perception is strong, not least in the lyrical 
                  heart of this more than attractive work – one well worth taking 
                  the trouble to get to know. Once known, never forgotten.
                Coupled 
                  with it is the Suite in A flat major, written a couple of years 
                  earlier. Here we really do get Schoeck’s own brand of frank 
                  neo-classicism. Rich, melodic but once more tinged with melancholia 
                  this is a short five movement work. The polyphony can sometimes 
                  be quite dense but highpoints are the slow Pastorale, with its 
                  reflective choirs and its trace elements of the Tallis Fantasia, 
                  and the whiff of Prokofiev that animates the March third movement 
                  (actually more than a whiff) – though note the delightful counterpoint 
                  for second violins. The slow movement is wistfully grave but 
                  not too much so and the Presto finale encloses a fine fugato 
                  section – lively, bright and just right to end this undemanding 
                  but well-constructed piece.  
                Sound 
                  quality is good if not spectacular and the notes cover the main 
                  compositional areas with precision. Of the two it’s the Cello 
                  Concerto that’s the more compelling – it has something about 
                  it that just won’t let go.
                Jonathan 
                  Woolf