Fourteen sonatas, three concertos and five works for solo cello show what a presence the instrument was in Julius Röntgen’s musical life. It’s not entirely surprising, given that cellist-composer Julius Klengel was his cousin, that he and Casals were friends and that two of Röntgen’s sons became professional cellists. His three cello concertos are unfailingly warm-hearted and well-crafted.

Like so many academic late-Romantics, Röntgen is strong on control but not so much on flights of fancy. Occasional phrases do promise wondrous things but he cannot stay in that zone for more than a few seconds at a time. You can tick off the influences and affinities as they pass – Schumann, Brahms, Grieg, Borodin and Tchaikovsky are all there, as is the benchmark of Dvo∑ák’s Concerto. If you think you catch a few bars of the ‘Melancholic’ Temperament from Nielsen’s Second Symphony in the finale of the Third Concerto, that’s probably because the two composers were firm friends for many years, and Röntgen did much behind the scenes to ensure that Nielsen’s music had some kind of profile in Holland.

The Third Concerto (1928) opens the disc, which means that the most attractive music is the first to hit the ear. Its single 15-minute movement has a number of lovely ideas – not least the appearance of a celesta at strategic points – and is never in danger of outstaying its welcome. The opening movement of the First Concerto alone is the same length, however, and really can’t seem to take the hint. Röntgen was brought up and musically formed in Leipzig, and it shows in this safe, well-crafted but largely predictable work, even when the finale tries to blend Paganini’s La campanella with Schumannesque routines. The Second Concerto (1909) is a considerable advance. Partly based on an Irish folksong, it is never less than delightful fodder for cello-buffs but probably no more than that.

Huge credit to Gregor Horsch, David Porcelijn and the Netherlands Symphony Orchestra for doing their utmost to fan the modest flames of Röntgen’s inspiration, and to CPO for their continuing mission to plug the massive gaps in the documentation of the conservative late-Romantic repertoire.