Robert Matthew Walker’s sleeve note mentions his asking Mstislav Rostropovich to name the greatest of the concertos written for him, and the great cellist, after a long pause, replying 'Shostakovich 2'. Composed quickly in 1966 and begun as a memorial piece for the poet Anna Akhmatova, this elusive, introspective work really should be better known. If you already have Rostropovich’s 1975 studio recording, Alban Gerhardt’s Cologne performance may surprise, his first movement noticeably swifter than we’re used to. In Gerhardt’s words, 'Shostakovich very clearly marked the tempo as crotchet=100, and I’d be the first to ignore that marking if it didn’t work. But, at least for me, it made all the sense in the world, because the whole rhythmical structure suddenly makes so much more sense.' He’s so right; Rostropovich does his own thing, brilliantly, but Gerhardt and conductor Jukka-Pekka Saraste reinvent the work, its lyricism and black humour given extra emphasis. Saraste’s ear for colour is another asset, Shostakovich’s harp and percussion writing especially telling. The first movement’s bittersweet second subject has never sounded so Mahlerian. The scherzo, based on a street song from Odessa, features superb work from the WDR Sinfonieorchester bassoons, and everything gels in the extended finale. Horns roar, tambourines shake, and Shostakovich’s delicious, world-weary theme works its magic. The concerto’s close still gives me the heebie jeebies, a percussive death rattle heard over a sustained cello low note. Absolutely marvellous, and the most persuasive, approachable version of the work I’ve heard.
There’s stiffer competition in the more extrovert Cello Concerto No 1. Gerhardt and Saraste are razor-sharp in the first movement, the Cologne bassoons again pulling out all the stops. The uncredited principal horn dazzles in the cadenza and, again, the slow movement really moves, Gerhardt’s timings marginally quicker than Rostropovich in his first recording. It’s genuinely thrilling, the extended cadenza leading into an incendiary finale, the angry, extrovert close packing a huge punch. Incredibly good, and that’s without mentioning the detailed notes (including an insightful foreword from Gerhardt), fulsome sound and attractive cover art.