Martinu's Concerto is in many ways a frustrating work. He was a brilliant craftsman, and an enterprising one. In the slow movement he makes use of a remarkable range of textures, drawing particularly upon cello and horn, with supporting piano, to surround the solo oboe; and though these do not seem promising combinations, by means of a quick ear and a sound structural sense he brings it all off. The trouble is the actual quality of the invention, which lacks distinction or much in the way of a personal character. John Anderson does well to give it all such conviction, and his broad phrasing and strong, elegant tone are well judged for what the music sets out to do. He darts nimbly about in the outer movements, and in the livelier numbers of Francaix's flower catalogue. This a suite of amiable nothings, nicely turned and falling agreeably on the ear.
Anderson seems very much more at home in acting as an advocate for these rather underinvented works than in Strauss's highly inventive Concerto. It is not an easy piece in any way. The long, lyrical lines make heavy demands upon the stamina of the player, whose finger technique is also stretched (surprisingly, given the virtuosity in the other works, over-stretched in a couple of places here). Further, the relaxed, easy nature of this old man's music still needs a very positive character, and Anderson seems at times in less than confident command. There are some excellent ideas, especially in the slow movement (the easing of the tempo before the cadenza is charmingly done), and the finale is lively and elegant; but the opening Allegro is a little inert, where the oboe needs to take total command in the long opening ritornello. Simon Wright accompanies sensitively and with a quick understanding of Anderson's phrasing; but between them they should have had words with the engineers, and not only about the somewhat grey sound. The Concerto is scored with all Strauss's old mastery, and part of its charm lies in the elegant woodwind counterpoints to the solo oboe. Many of these go for nothing: in the first movement, the clarinet at fig. 4 (2'00'') and the bassoon at fig. 8 (3'15''), in the second the beautifully judged cor anglais at fig. 28 (4'24''), while the finale the flute could almost have saved his breath altogether. A pity.'