What with the publication of Michael Haas’s Forbidden Music (see page 90), there’s hope yet for an extra boost to music by a generation that Hitler and his trans-European cohorts deemed ‘degenerate’. Just how ludicrous that claim was is tellingly illustrated by this varied and absorbing programme. Erwin Schulhoff (1894-1942) is central to the enterprise, with two substantial works dating from the late 1920s. His Concerto for flute, piano and string orchestra with two horns (previously recorded under Israel Yinon for Koch Schwann) is a powerful piece cast along the lines of Hindemith and Martin≤, the opening Allegro choppy and propulsive, the central Andante like a flute sonata with weighted interpolations from the orchestra, the finale relatively light-hearted. No wonder it was taken up by Steinberg and Monteux; and although Yinon’s performance has a marginally swifter first movement, David Parry and his players suggest something altogether tougher and more relentless. As a piece it’s light years removed from the 16-year-old Schulhoff’s Three Pieces for string orchestra, where Grieg is the prime influence and the carefree mood suggests parallels with the lighter Wirén or Britten.

Between these two extremes comes the Flute Sonata (1927), an attractive work that harbours one or two of the Concerto’s shadows but without replicating its fervent mood. British music enthusiasts will be familiar with the figure of Vilem Tausk≥, whose conducting skills were so frequently aired over the BBC, but may not be aware that he could pen such a moving essay as the meditation for string orchestra Coventry, composed in the wake of the 1940 bombing of the city’s cathedral. When interviewed later in life, Tausk≥ was apparently amazed that any of his ill-fated compatriots were remembered, let alone performed, and it is indeed a miracle that we have Viktor Ullmann’s Third String Quartet (presented here as a Chamber Symphony as arranged by Kenneth Woods) which manages a whole range of emotional responses even though it was composed while Ullmann was interred in the Theresienstadt ghetto-transit camp. A year later, in 1944, he was transferred to Auschwitz, where he was murdered.

Doesn’t bear thinking about…and maybe we will be doing Ullmann a disservice by thinking about it too much. He did after all claim that, in terms of creativity, Theresienstadt helped rather than hindered him, that instead of weeping he (and his colleagues) launched headlong into work. The important thing, now, is that his music stands the test of time. So hats off to flautist Ulrike Anton, pianist Russell Ryan, the ECO and David Parry, producer Michael Haas and everyone else responsible for this well-performed programme. First-rate annotation, too.