The two sets of dances are charming products of Schubert's mid-teenage years and provide Gidon Kremer with much food for musical thought. Whereas a lesser artist might settle for charm and no more, Kremer locates those occasional corners where bodeful intimations lie dormant: witness the darkening cadences at the close of the Sixth German Dance or the third (D minor) Minuet's pensive outer sections. His solo playing has a fine-spun, slightly husky quality, spot-on the centre of the note and with constantly shifting nuances. It's a style that reminded me of Kremer's great teacher, David Oistrakh, and lends Schubert's top line a poignant, speaking quality. The Trios of the Dances are played by a hand-picked quartet (led by Kremer), the outer sections by the full group.
The three concertante works are rather later and more obviously formal, although the jaunty Polonaise which opens the programme shares the carefree atmosphere that most of the dances inhabit. Again, Kremer inflects the musical line and inspires agile, lilting accompaniments from his colleagues; he floats into the A major Rondo (track 7, at 1'08'') with such disarming gracefulness that I immediately leapt to my CD drawer for a replay. Throughout the disc there are significant echoes of past masters, particularly in the dances quoted above: Mozart in the D minor Minuet, and Beethoven in the C major German Dance, which bears a striking resemblance to the Scherzo from his C minor (1801-2) Violin Sonata, Op. 30 No. 2. The recordings are excellent, with a notably strong bass line.'