Lorin Maazel’s interpretative facility has surfaced time and again in masterful and often perceptive recordings of major romantic and twentieth-century masterpieces. On the evidence of this CD, his own music reflects a fascination for, maybe even a preoccupation with, instrumental colour: all three works date from the mid-1990s and pit a solo instrument against a whole range of contrasting sonorities, sometimes with wicked playfulness (as in the “Blues” from Music for Violoncello and Orchestra, track 2), sometimes lyrically (try the “Song” from Music for Flute and Orchestra, track 12). Maazel’s own violin playing assumes a salon-style ardour for Music for Violin and Orchestra, with a cimbalom and flute a coulisse for company.
The cello piece was a Rostropovich commission and contains some of the most impressive music on the disc, especially in the fourth section, where “terrifying mechanical levers and spokes rise up with ghastly regularity in this man-made Luna Park hell” (track 4) and a “numbness” lies in its wake (track 5). The words are the composer’s own – although Maazel freely admits that “verbalizations seeking to ‘describe’ or ‘explain’ music can be treacherous, even from the composer – perhaps especially if they come from the composer”. And yet it seems to me that all three pieces spontaneously suggest soundtrack potential for verbal or visual activity; they are, above all, ‘action’ pieces, accessible vehicles for seasoned virtuosos (the flute and cello works were actually written for the featured soloists), quixotic, unpredictable, eclectic, enjoyable but ultimately ephemeral. Performing and recording standards are way above average.'