The music of Michael Jarrell has been said to ‘examine states of dream and unreality, searching for a moment of truth’ – a truth which is often found in the lowest sonorities and slowest tempi, a place where time stands still. His works are often interrelated, not only by a certain sensitivity or a distinctive tone, but also by the recurrence of particular features that he reworks in different contexts.

Apparently a staple in Russia, the music of Taneyev exists on the fringes of the repertoire in the West, something that should be rectified–and will be if this superb CD made by a starry cast of performers gets the attention it deserves. He’s a Romantic composer, but hardly of the heart-on-sleeve variety, since he was a master of counterpoint and firmly encased his Romantic impulses in a well-fitted classical jacket. Sometimes he makes you think of a more modern, pungent Brahms with a Russian accent.

Ilya Gringolts plays with a ferocity that – in tandem with taut rhythmic control – adroitly avoids even the slightest hint of frenzy. And yet, for all its intensity and firmness of grip, there’s an equally riveting sense of spontaneity to his playing, too – particularly in Adams’s Concerto, with its intricately variegated, continuous solo part. Gringolts phrases assertively and with such expressive agility that at times in the first movement it sounds as if the violin and orchestra are working independently yet in sync, like separate gears in a great machine.

This disc juxtaposes two significant Russian works for violin and orchestra, each written by a composer with a close relationship to Tchaikovsky, and each dedicated to the great violinist and pedagogue Leopold Auer. These two concertos are both formidable display pieces, designed to show off Auer’s transcendental technique. Ilya Gringolts, acclaimed as one of the great young violin virtuosos of today and lauded for his debut recording on Hyperion, dazzles in this repertoire, ably supported by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra under Ilan Volkov.

Despite the rather numerous and diverse orchestral line-up, the idea of concertare has a more chamber-like character here. The soloist is usually not directly confronted with the massive sound of a full orchestral tutti, but rather is involved in dialogues and interactions with small groups of instruments. With exceptional naturalness, André Tchaikowsky managed to achieve in this concerto a balance between solo violin and a full-scale symphony orchestra, employing textures of a linear, quasi-polyphonic character – enriched, however, by intense and refined harmony and contrapuntal devices drawing on the Baroque tradition.

Throughout his career, Ilya Gringolts has devoted himself to performing contemporary music as well as the great concert repertoire, while also developing a keen interest in historical performance practice. The focus of his latest recital disc is therefore quite logical: music of our own time and its inspiration: Johann Sebastian Bach. The album title is Ciaccona and besides Bach’s iconic composition, Gringolts plays a further two chaconnes – or three if one counts the Ciacconina which opens Heinz Holliger’s brief cycle, composed for Isabelle Faust in 2014.

The three string quartets, Op. 41, of Robert Schumann date from the middle of 1842, the same period when he also composed the Piano Quintet in E flat major, Op. 44, so their inclusion together in this double-disc album from Onyx is appropriate, if slightly curious. While the Piano Quintet is among the most popular pieces in the chamber repertoire, the string quartets have languished in a state of comparative neglect and are relatively under-represented in the catalog. The shadow of Beethoven loomed large over many composers in the 19th century, and the example of his extraordinary late string quartets made successors appear lacking by comparison; this is the most likely explanation for the weak standing of Schumann's Op. 41, and why the Piano Quintet escaped invidious comparisons. Yet these clear-eyed and thoughtful performances by the Gringolts Quartet demonstrate that Schumann's abilities in the string quartet genre were considerable, and they show his careful balancing of the parts and bring out the motivic coherence he derived from Beethoven. The Gringolts are absolutely secure in playing these works, but there is a noticeable burst of energy and enthusiasm that they bring to the Piano Quintet, which is shared by pianist Peter Laul. Onyx provides fairly focused recording of the strings, but the piano recedes into the background, perhaps because of the microphone's placement in the highly resonant church acoustics.

The graceful, expressive and witty Duo for Violin and Cello by Hanns Eisler, written when the composer was 26 years old, is a multifaceted work showcasing the composer’s brilliant intellect. Best-known for his long artistic association with playwright Bertolt Brecht, Eisler always took care to make a deep connection with his audience.

Although he waited until late in his career to turn to the genre, when Robert Schumann set his mind to compose sonatas for violin, he did so with an incredible flourish of activity. 1851 saw the composition of the Opp. 105 and 121 sonatas (the former being completed in barely a week). Both are models of chamber music collaboration, not virtuosic show pieces for either performer. Rather, Schumann's focus is on delicate melodies, serene interplay between violin and piano, and masterful elaboration of musical gestures. The third sonata is Schumann's completion of the so-called "FAE Sonata," a collaboration with Brahms and Albert Dietrich. This final sonata, only published in 1956, lacks the same cohesiveness and introspection that distinguish the first two sonatas. Still, it offers insight into the flights of musical fancy that characterized Schumann's declining mental health. Performing these three sonatas are violinist Ilya Gringolts and pianist Peter Laul. Gringolts has proven himself to be a master technician many times before, but here – as in his Bach recordings – sensitivity of interpretation is what really draws listeners in here. The seamless interplay he achieves with Laul produces a true sense of dialogue rather than competition. Well-balanced, technically polished, and musically enriching, this album is ideal for those looking for a complete set of these sonatas.

Published in 1733, Pietro Locatelli’s L'Arte del violino for solo violin, strings, and basso continuo took both violin technique and the solo concerto as a genre into a whole new realm. The twelve concertos included in the collection also played a part in forming the image of the violin virtuoso, reaching its full bloom with Paganini towards the end of the century. While the unusually high technical demands of the solo part are obvious to the listener from the start, the great surprise comes at the end of the first and third movements of each of the concertos. Here Locatelli inserts Capriccios for the soloist alone of a difficulty previously unheard of, with a left hand technique making use of extensions, octaves, unprepared tenths, double and triple stopping, arpeggios and double trills.