The works of Swiss composer Frank Martin don't rely on dramatic flash; they tend to seductively beguile with their profoundly intelligent sensuality. While they may never be hits on a pops concert, they reward attentive listening with their deep feeling and insight, given voice in a distinctly personal and expressive language. Polyptyque, one of the composer's final works, a concerto for violin and two small string orchestras, is made up of six images from the life of Christ, from Palm Sunday to the Ascension.

With superlative recordings of Dvorák's unfairly neglected Sixth Symphony by Vaclav Talich with the Czech Philharmonic, Rafael Kubelik with the Berliner Philharmoniker, and Istvan Kertész with the London Symphony, this version featuring Jac van Steen and the Dortmund Philharmonic certainly faces stiff competition, and while it may not be the very finest, it ranks with the best recordings of the piece in the 30 years prior to its release. Van Steen has the strength, energy, and sympathetic understanding to put the best face on Dvorák's unendingly cheerful Sixth.

A frequent collaborator with both the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra and Jac van Steen, David Matthews new recording explores both the natural world and the symphonic idea, the second of which has, in his words, obsessed me since I started composing at the age of 16. As well the Sinfonia and Symphony No. 8, the programme includes Toward Sunrise; inspired by the sound of the sun (a rising fourth of C-F), as recorded by scientists at Sheffield University, and A Vision of the Sea; drawn from the sights and sounds of English Channel near the composers home in Deal, Kent. With a singular body of work spanning almost 60 years, David Matthews has established an international reputation as one of the leading symphonists of our time. Born in London in 1943, he began composing at the age of sixteen.

Among the young British instrumentalists vying to pick up the mantles of the great soloists of a generation ago, flutist Katherine Bryan seems among the most promising, and she takes a major step forward with this, her second release. Her startlingly clear, bright articulation in the upper register is pleasing on its own, yet the real attraction here is that she approaches a repertory intelligently and brings fresh perspectives to it. The Flute Concerto (1993) of Christopher Rouse only seems to be the odd item in the set; Rouse's instrumental writing, with its intricate grasp of texture and register, is truly a descendant of the French (and French-Swiss) music on the rest of the album, and it was an inspired choice in terms of showcasing Bryan's technique as well. The three central movements have a memorial tone, with flute solos woven into Rouse's characteristically spacious chords, and Bryan has the stamina to stick with the long line here. Ibert's delightful Concerto for flute and orchestra (1934) receives an absolutely crackling performance from Bryan.