Long thought of as a barren period for the solo oboe, the nineteenth century has yielded up a good many concertos and other solo pieces in the past decade or so, though it has to be said that a hidden masterpiece has yet to be unveiled (how long will it be before we get records of the interminable oboe concertos of Gustave Vogt, remembered by me without pleasure as practice fodder?). Here are no revelations, though some harmless entertainment, and cause for admiration. Burkhard Glaetzner is just the player for these fantastically difficult, showy, amusing, sentimental pieces, and he knocks them off with complete aplomb. He has a marvellous set of fingers, which he needs, and a tone that is clear and with just the right degree of sweetness for, say, the Adagio of Molique's Concertino, which manages to be pitched somewhere between Schubert and Stephen Foster. Molique was in fact a native of Nuremberg, a violinist admired by Berlioz, Mendelssohn and Schumann for his technical skills. He produces an outrageously flippant finale for his concerto, which Glaetzner relishes.
Kalliwoda's Concerto is more straightforward, though tuneful and enjoyable, and Ponchielli's Capriccio (in a reconstruction of a fragmentary original) includes some amiable ideas in its rambling structure. Pasculli enjoys himself with a concerto on motives from Donizetti's La favorita, rather as if he were deciding not to leave the field entirely to Liszt with this kind of thing. The recording has a slight hiss in places, but is otherwise fine. A lot of fun here for those curious about the byways of the oboe repertory, or for anyone with a mildly satirical sense of humour.'