Sergei Lyapunov has always been a shadowy figure, his derivative yet distinctive voice drowned by his more celebrated compatriots and even by his contemporaries Taneyev, Liadov and Arensky. Yet hearing the First Symphony in a performance of this calibre you're reminded of the way Lyapunov's melodic appeal is complemented by brilliant craftsmanship.

This is the third volume in Chandos’ ongoing series of Shostakovich film music, which has been receiving a great deal of attention on disc. All of this music has appeared in competing versions, some of them just as good as this, but none actually superior in any meaningful way. The playing is uniformly committed and atmospheric (great ghost music in Hamlet), and the frequent military bits come off excitingly without becoming obnoxiously strident.

The main item in this second volume of Shostakovich film music on Chandos is the popular Suite from The Gadfly, whose “Romance” became an instant hit as the theme from the British TV series Reilly: Ace of Spies (it was well known in Russia long before). This newcomer is certainly exciting and full of contrast and color, with a very dreamy “Romance” and a much brasher treatment of such extravert segments as the “Folk Festival” than we hear on Chailly’s suavely polished Decca recording (to cite the most noteworthy among the competition). The result is arguably more “Russian” in feel, though I wouldn’t give up the playing of the Concertgebouw for any amount of money.

This extremely well played and vividly recorded disc offers an excellent overview of Shostakovich’s work as a film composer. More importantly, it relates his output in this much-maligned genre to his work in more “serious” music more clearly than does any other similarly focused collection. As such, it should be heard whole, for the total impression then becomes very much more than the sum of its parts, revealing how a great composer manages to write music that serves its admittedly utilitarian purpose while also remaining (mostly) true to himself.

Every five years the Soviet Union celebrated the anniversary of the October 1917 Revolution with large-scale public events, to which the country’s leading artists were expected to contribute. Mieczyslaw Weinberg, like his friend Shostakovich, enjoyed mixed fortunes with his efforts. The symphonic poem Dawn (Zarya), Op. 60, dedicated to the fortieth anniversary of the Revolution, seems to have remained unperformed during his lifetime, despite its ideologically irreproachable content. Its première was finally given in the BBC studios in Manchester, on 15 May 2019, by the BBC Philharmonic under John Storgårds. When Shostakovich died, on 9 August 1975, it had been five years since Weinberg composed his last symphony.

Vassily Sinaisky is on home territory here, and brings plenty of fizz to the old war-horse [Capriccio Espagnol]. Overtures to the Maid of Pskov and the Tsar’s Bride are here with the Fairy Tale Legend, The Sinfonitetta on Russian Themes and a short skirmish with Finiculi-Finicula. Rimsky always writes (or borrows) a good tune, and is a colourful orchestrator, and, with the first-class Chandos sound, the music gives much greater pleasure than might be expected.

Chandos' Grainger Edition brings yet another cornucopia of delights delivered with indefatigable dedication and twinkling charisma by Richard Hickox and the BBC Philharmonic. The formula is the same as on this team's first and second volumes of Grainger's orchestral music, with tried-and-trusted nuggets such as Green Bushes and Colonial Song (both given here in particularly lavish orchestrations from 1905-06 and 1919 respectively) sitting cheek by jowl alongside genuine rarities like The Merry King (based on a folk-tune from West Sussex and boasting a seductively ornate piano contribution) and the amazingly colourful English Dance No.1 (a riot of a piece which prompted Gabriel Fauré to exclaim: "It's as if the total population were a-dancing!").

This is a fabulous disc: succulently beautiful music in strong, compelling performances, recorded in deep and detailed sound… Only the warmest of recommendations will do.

The Enchanted Lake and Kikimora are wonderfully atmospheric, and the performances by Vassily Sinaisky and the BBC Philharmonic are pure magic The performances are matched by recording of equal richness and luminosity.

John Wilson’s third volume devoted to music by Eric Coates combines some of the composer’s larger-scale works with miniatures and two marches. The Cinderella Phantasy frames the well-known fairy-tale from Cinderella’s perspective, glossing over the more brutal elements of the original, with some notably descriptive writing for the dream sequences, the ball, and of course the happy ending.

Tasmin Little's 2013 release on Chandos is an exploration of lush and lyrical music for violin and orchestra, composed by the leading British composers of the early 20th century, and it is an album of remarkable depth and beauty. Opening the program is the Concerto for violin & orchestra by E.J. Moeran, which sets the mood for the disc with its long-breathed, melancholy lines and pastoral atmosphere. While this is a technically challenging work that shows Little to her best advantage as a virtuoso, listeners may come away from the piece recalling its sweet ambience more than its flashiness. The same could also be said for Frederick Delius' Légende, Gustav Holst's A Song of the Night, and Ralph Vaughan Williams' The Lark Ascending, all three of which provide tests for the violinist's skills, yet are filled with such gorgeous music that listeners may only remember the general opulence of the scores. Also included are premiere recordings of Roger Turner's arrangements of Edward Elgar's Chanson de matin, Chanson de nuit, and Salut d'amour, which in orchestration, mood, and style fit the rest of the album nicely.

The Symphony in C was conceived in Paris in the late 1930s, but completed in America in 1940, and is dedicated to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra on the occasion of its fiftieth anniversary. Commissioned by the New York Philharmonic and premièred in 1946, the Symphony in Three Movements presents us with movements that also manifest different ways of moving: a march, a slow dance, and a march-jog-race.

'There is plenty to delight ear here, in the delicate dances and variations of the Suite No. 3, in the dramatic vigour of the introduction to the opera Nal and Damayanti, and in the charming little Intermezzo.' (The Telegraph)

On Remembering, the Danish cellist Jakob Kullberg continues his collaborations with two of the foremost Nordic composers: Per Nørgård and Kaija Saariaho. Praised internationally for his performances of the modern cello concerto, Kullberg regards the concerto form as the encounter of an individual soloist with the sound world of a composer. With living composers this approach often results in an unusual degree of collaboration, as the works gathered here bear witness to. Since 1999, Kullberg has enjoyed a close and unique partnership with Nørgård which has resulted in a large number of works.

Considered by some to be the ‘Cinderella’ of his symphonies, the Sixth Symphony of Anton Bruckner was composed in 1879 – 81. It may well demonstrate a reaction to the severe criticism of the first Viennese performance, in 1877, of his Third Symphony, which Eduard Hanslick described as a vision of how Beethoven’s Ninth befriends Wagner’s Walküre and ends up being trampled under her horses’ hoofs’. Much the shortest of his mature symphonies, the Sixth also reverts to a more classical form than its predecessors. This recording was made in 2012, during the first season of Juanjo Mena as Chief Conductor of the BBC Philharmonic, and just a month before their acclaimed performance of the work at the BBC Proms. Classical Source commented: ‘Mena didn’t miss a trick and the result for the whole symphony was a revelation, and you don’t get many of those. This was a thrilling, delightful performance.’