Reinhold Glière was Russian-born and of Belgian extraction. His maturity saw Russia's Imperial days but most of his life followed the 1917 Revolution. He died three years after Stalin and Prokofiev. There's no indication of his being a dissenter. For him there is no 'Testimony'. Unlike Medtner and Rachmaninov he did not flee to the West when the barricades went up.

Remembered in the west almost solely for his Soviet-era ballet The Red Poppy – and even then, for one popular selection from it, the energetic "Dance of the Russian Sailors" – Reinhold Glière is long overdue for a revival. If this 2006 recording by the Pulzus String Quartet of two of Glière's four string quartets gives any indication of his music's potential appeal, then it's high time that this neglected oeuvre is reassessed, both by ensembles in search of new repertoire and labels in need of fresh material.

Reinhold Glière (1875-1956) retains a toehold in the repertoire through his remarkable third symphony (and perhaps the effective and tuneful ballet the Red Poppy). His music is generally colorful, evocative, well-written and not without depth. Stylistically, the Russian Silver Age looms large - this is music in the tradition of Rimsky-Korsakov and Glazunov with few elements of anything more modern - but for the most part the most interesting music stems from rather early in the career, with his later more socialist-realist works being undeniable often rather bland.

This flamingly multicolored, unashamedly grand-scaled symphony receives a performance here so sonically beautiful that it's practically visible. The work is programmatic and tells of the heroic deeds of a medieval knight-strongman, (translated as) "Il 'ya from the town of Murom." Given the orchestration–quadruple woodwinds, four trumpets, eight horns, four trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, two harps, celeste, and strings–he comes across as a combination of Superman, Batman, Robin Hood, and Wagner's Siegfried. Leon Botstein brings out great warmth in the London Symphony's string section, the flute bird-curlicues in the second movement are luscious, and, in general, his leadership has nice forward propulsion in a work that can easily sound bloated. If this sort of huge, Romantic palette is your cup of tea–and it is sort of irresistible–then look no further. This realization is ravishing, and Telarc's sound is an audiophile's dream.

Of the rarities presented in this unusual Russian music collection, the most tantalizing is Gliére’s Concerto for Coloratura Soprano and Orchestra. Judging by the slight surface noise, it sounds as if this transfer could have been made from an LP. No matter, the sound is fine, and Joan Sutherland sings radiantly, pouring out beguiling tone throughout her range, while her trademark trills are put to good use by Gliére’s vocal writing, which isn’t particularly original, especially considering it was composed in 1943. The same can be said for Gliére’s 1938 Harp Concerto: beguiling solo writing set against standard-fare 19th-century orchestral accompaniment.

Markus Maskuniittys debut recording together with the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra together with its chief conductor Sakari Oramo, showcases four concertante works for horn and orchestra covering a period of one hundred years (from 1849 to 1951). Robert Schumann described the horn as the soul of the orchestra and he had a profound affinity with the instrument. The most substantial of Schumanns works featuring the horn is the Konzertstück for four horns and orchestra, Op. 86. Schumann considered the work as one of his best achievements as a composer. During 1849, Schumann wrote a total of three works featuring the valve horn.