Marek Stachowski (1936-2004) is a member of the generation of Polish composers overshadowed by (and indebted to) Lutosawksi and Penderecki. A pupil of the latter, Stachowski’s compositional trajectory follows much the same path as his teacher’s. The sonoristic world of pulsating sound-sculptures is eventually ditched in favour of neo-classical forms, harmonic stability and the attenuated maunderings of late Shostakovich – or indeed of neo-tonal late Penderecki. The shorter pieces, recorded here for the first time by the cellist who premiered them, may have deep personal resonances for the composer but are stylistically less compelling than the Cello Concerto written earlier, in 1988. Again scored without wind instruments, this three-part structure offers something of both tendencies. While the lack of substantive incident in this music may bring to mind the inescapably cinematic oeuvre of Wojciech Kilar, Stachowski’s more academic, perhaps more discerning invention only once had me thinking of the big screen courtesy of some Psycho-like scrapings. The brief passages of confrontational writing are few and will not frighten the horses.

The star of the show is the soloist, a powerful yet controlled performer who ensures that Stachowski’s pallid musings never outstay their welcome. Thanks to the wonders of the Gramophone Archive, her striking blonde locks can be glimpsed on the far right of page 10 of the November 1999 issue where she leads the cellos of Krystian Zimerman’s hand-picked Polish Festival Orchestra. Ten years on, her own orchestral support comes from a similarly fresh-faced Polish-based group fairly buzzing with youthful enthusiasm. The sound is gutsy if a little shallow, the booklet-notes occasionally impenetrable, the Willem de Kooning artwork a plus.