Classical CDs Weekly: Bach, Shostakovich, Henrik Schwarz

Bach: Brandenburg Concertos Florilegium, dir. Ashley Solomon (Channel Classics)

This is a predictably satisfying pair of discs, another outstanding set of period-instrument Brandenburgs from a crack British group. It did prompt me to sample naughtily inauthentic performances from the likes of Karajan and Klemperer, both indecently enjoyable but sounding so anachronistic that it's hard to believe that we ever learned to love these pieces played in such a manner. The joy of Bach is that he's almost indestructible, as long as the spirit and intention are right – as they are on an entertaining new Bach anthology played on Moog synthesiser, to be reviewed in a few weeks. Florilegium have the six concertos programmed in reverse. This works nicely: Bach never intended them to be performed in any specific order, and we hear the orchestral forces grow with each work.

One revelation is the chamber-scale Sixth Concerto which can too often sound mushy and ill-defined. Not here; you'll never hear the individual lines so clearly delineated, and the first movement moves at an ideal pace; bouncy, alert, but never forced. Terrence Charlston's harpsichord solo in No. 5 is terrific, slyly grabbing the limelight as the other players give up trying to compete. No. 4's fruity recorders are among the best I've heard. No. 3 is again given exactly the right tempo; the strings' articulation sheer joy in a refreshingly unfrenetic last movement. In the first two concertos there's a flamboyant but distinctly mellow trumpet, and some enjoyably earthy horn playing. A winner, and, along with the Dunedin Consort on Linn, a first choice in this repertoire. Beautifully recorded too.

Shostakovich: Cantatas Estonian Concert Choir, Estonian National Symphony Orchestra/Paavo Järvi (Erato)

Shostakovich's The Sun Shines over our Motherland and The Song of the Forests are seldom heard, for good reason. Both were written in the aftermath of the 1948 Zhdanov Decree, when the composer, along with Prokofiev and Khachaturian, was officially condemned for alleged "formalism". Shostakovich was sacked from his teaching post in Leningrad and survived by churning out film scores and "official" works, such as this pair of cantatas. The Tenth Symphony and Violin Concerto No. 1 were wisely hidden in the composer's bottom drawer, only emerging after Stalin's death. Paavo Järvi's recent decision to perform and record them in Estonia with their original words intact caused an understandable outcry; Järvi recalling that “everybody who sat in that audience probably had somebody close who died in Stalin's gulags. So when they heard the texts which glorified the communists, that must have been a nightmare.” The words, by hack poet Yevgeniy Dolmatovsky, aren't included in the booklet, the Shostakovich Estate feeling that including them would be too provocative.

This is an awful lot to get your head round before you've even started listening. Shostakovich was a master craftsman, and both pieces are impeccably constructed and neatly scored; this composer's typically dark orchestral sound noticeably brighter than usual. The seven-movement Song of the Forests is musically more varied, with the Narva Boys Choir outstanding in the fourth movement. There's a rousing fugal finale – which feels rather less uplifting when you read that Shostakovich retreated to his hotel room straight after the premiere and hit the vodka bottle. The Sun Shines over our Motherland has a grotesque, overblown close which would presumably go down well in Pyongyang. Not the sort of music you'd want to return to often, but these are fabulously assured readings, in ripe sound. As a welcome palate cleanser, Järvi also includes Shostakovich's The Execution of Stepan Razin. This bleak, savage work for bass, chorus and orchestra sets a poem by Yevtushenko, whose words had previously formed the basis of the great 13th Symphony. It's tremendous, angry stuff, magnificently sung by bass Alexei Tanovitski. No texts, but translations can be easily found online.

Henrik Schwartz: Instruments Tokyo Secret Orchestra/Emi Akiyama (Sony)

“How would my electronic techno music sound when it's played by an orchestra, without synthesisers, effects and pounding beats?” So asks DJ and producer Henrik Schwarz on the sleeve of Instruments. A little bland, is the reponse. What we get are entertaining, slightly anonymous cover versions of seven Schwarz compositions, closer to the Glass end of the minimalist continuum than to Adams or Reich. Johannes Brecht's arrangements of Schwarz's originals are most effective when the rough edges aren't smoothed over, and the Tokyo Secret Orchestra under Emi Akiyama give their all. There's neat use of tuned percussion, though it's telling that the one track which really works is “I Exist Because Of You”, where Christoph Brecht's drum-like bass clarinet provides an effective substitute for the missing beats.

Schwartz writes good tunes, but all too frequently there's not enough harmonic movement to sustain listeners' interest. Ravel stayed in C major for most of Bolero, but at least he managed a surprising modulation near the close. “Marvin Two” is smartly orchestrated, Brecht making brilliant use of pizzicato strings and low winds, but ultimately frustrating; after 11 minutes you wish you'd been taken a little further. “Wamins” is more rewarding, Schwartz's simple two-chord pattern given engaging colour by Brecht. No sleeve notes, though Sony's sleeve design is attractive, and the recording, made in a Tokyo temple, sounds warm and natural.