Amazingly, Bohuslav Martinu’s concertante compositions for violoncello have been brought together for the first time on this double CD. Along with the two Cello Concertos, Petr Nouzovský and the Plze 324; Philharmonic under Thomas Brauner also perform the Concertino and the Sonata da Camera – a richly colored portrait of this composer whose playful treatment of his musical creations continues to fascinate us even today. Deeply rooted in the Bohemian musical tradition, Martin 367;’s compositions combine rhythmic sophistication, traditional folk motifs, and a classical understanding of form.

Beethoven’s five sonatas for violoncello and piano form a cosmos all of their own. They exemplarily represent this Titan’s three compositional periods, and the interrelations between them shape a surprisingly self-contained work group surveying the composer’s entire life. Reason enough for Manuel Fischer-Dieskau and Connie Shih to present an absolutely new recording of this cycle – now for the first time on SACD in original 2+2+2 surround sound!

Chosen in 1988 as Composer of the Year by Musical America and now recognized as one of the finest song composers in America, Ned Rorem has also written a significant body of music for orchestra, including three Symphonies (Naxos 8.559149), a Violin Concerto and a Flute Concerto (Naxos 8.559278). When Leonard Bernstein gave the première of Rorem’s Third Symphony with the New York Philharmonic in 1959, it signaled a significant triumph for his orchestral music, written in a tonal idiom alien to the experimental practices of the day. Composed in Morocco in 1951, the Second Piano Concerto has a distinctly American character.

Jamie Walton is joined by the Philharmonia Orchestra under the baton of their conductor laureate Vladimir Ashkenazy for this new concerto recording of concertos and orchestral works by Dvorák and Schumann. Jamie Walton has proved himself as a leading light in UK's musical life; as a performer in his widely praised concerto and sonata recordings, and as a festival director in his work as founder of the North York Moors Festival, which was shortlisted for an RPS Award in 2011.

Mstislav Rostropovich is one of the few musicians who can create a larger-than-life experience through the combined forces of exceptional music, a beautiful instrument, and uncommonly facile communicative skills. In his performances of Bach's transcendent masterpieces for solo cello, Rostropovich finds a perfect balance between a romantic, rhapsodic interpretation and one that emphasizes the purely formal "aridity" of Bach's structures. Although it's nearly impossible to isolate one or two highlights, the Sarabande and Prelude from Suite No. 5 are among the most profoundly moving cello performances you will ever hear–the closest we probably will ever come to experiencing through music the soul of both Rostropovich and Bach.

Sol Gabetta’s first recording of the Elgar Cello Concerto, with the Danish National Symphony, was much admired when it appeared six years ago. This one, taken from a concert in the Baden-Baden Festspielhaus in 2014, is a far glossier affair orchestrally. Simon Rattle’s tendency to overmould the phrasing is sometimes too obvious, but Gabetta’s playing is intense and searching, less introspective than some performances in the Adagio, perhaps, but epic in scale in the outer movements, and always keenly responsive. Those who possess her earlier disc might not think they need to invest in this one, but would then miss Gabetta’s vivid, pulsating account of the Martinů concerto, which went through a quarter of a century of revisions before the definitive 1955 version she plays here, with Krysztof Urbański conducting. She finds real depth and intensity in it, both in the slow movement and in the introspective episode that interrupts the finale’s headlong rush.

These appear to be the only chamber works this pianist and teacher wrote (there are lots of piano pieces, songs and a comic opera) and their dates are uncertain. The sonata is simple and elegant with more than a touch of the salon in its slow movement but the 33-minute trio is more impressive, with a three-note motive in the first movement you'll swear you've known all your life, a light and Mendelssohnian scherzo, a slow movement with much more depth and an allegro con fuoco finale as advertised. Joanna Lawrynowicz (piano), Andrzej Gebski (violin), Andrzej Wróbel (cello).

Berlin Classics' 2000 recording of Jan Vogler performing Haydn's cello concertos with Ludwig Güttler and the Virtuosi Saxoniae was first released in 2001 and reappeared in 2009 with a different cover and a lower price, but otherwise unchanged. Vogler's performances are bright and alert, with vivacious allegros and soulful adagios; Güttler's accompaniments are sweet and simpatico; the Virtuosi Saxoniae players live up to their name, and Berlin Classics' digital sound is clear, yet evocative.

Among Mendelssohn's considerable chamber music output, the works for cello and piano had a special place for the composer. Although he was not himself a cellist, his brother Paul was an accomplished amateur and Mendelssohn likely kept him in mind when composing the three larger-scale works. Following in the footsteps of Beethoven, Mendelssohn continued to move more toward an equal partnership between the two instruments. By the time he composed the D major Sonata in 1843, a true feeling of cello sonata as opposed to a sonata for piano and cello was achieved. This Orfeo album features cellist Daniel Müller-Schott and pianist Jonathan Gilad.

The two sonatas for cello and piano along with the D minor Piano Trio were among the last works that Fauré was to complete before his death in 1924 at the ripe old age of 79. Despite the many dire circumstances that filled the latter years of Fauré's life, and in light of his choice to score each of these pieces in dark, minor keys, all three compositions have many moments of complete joy. The two cello sonatas are performed by cellist Christian Poltéra and pianist Kathryn Stott. Both artists have an impeccable sense of line and flow and are able to spin out the long, wandering phrases Fauré lays down.

Antonín Dvorák famously complained about the sound of the cello, but if he had heard this album by Swiss-born cellist Christian Poltéra and his wonderfully sympathetic British accompanist Kathryn Stott, he might have written more for the instrument. Most of the music here was transcribed for cello and piano by Poltéra himself, with a couple of small Dvorák originals and two transcriptions by the composer rounding out the program. Poltéra has an extraordinary way with Dvorák's melodies, which require a distinctive kind of tempo flexibility: not full-fledged tempo rubato, but something of the caressing delivery of the café singer.