By Jonathan Blumhofer

Violinist Lea Birringer does dazzlingly right by Sibelius and Szymanowski concertos and cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason finds life and defiance in Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No. 2.

If it involves Lea Birringer, maybe all of us do.

The German violinist is hardly the first artist to offer a fresh take on this warhorse. But the approach she brings to her new recording of the favorite with the Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie and Benjamin Shwartz is particularly inviting.

Birringer takes the long view—there’s a slow-burning intensity to her playing that results in a satisfying payoff when one listens to this account in a single sitting—but never at the expense of the music’s poetry. Her technique is astonishingly on-point: the treacherous runs and, especially, stratospheric double stops in the outer movements are exceedingly well voiced. For shapeliness and direction, her playing in the Adagio sings pristinely.

Shwartz and the Philharmonie bring impressive textural clarity to the party. Throughout, their contributions are clean, well-balanced, and full-bodied; particularly in the middle movement, everything moves and can be heard exactly as it should.

And the Sibelius isn’t even the best thing on this album. That would be Birringer and Co.’s rendition of Karol Szymanowski’s Violin Concerto No. 2.

Written in the early 1930s, the score has languished somewhat in the shadow of the composer’s earlier effort. It’s an enchantingly raucous work, all the same, and the present performance captures much of its jubilantly anarchic spirit.

Again, the chief joy of this performance is Birringer’s clean, shapely rendition of the solo line. She navigates its demands with aplomb; it’s tremendous fun to sit back and listen to her toss off the second-movement double stops and cadenza. The music’s improvisatory, rhapsodic aura also emerges naturally. Szymanowski’s kaleidoscopic orchestral writing draws out some feisty playing from the Philharmonie—the third movement is deliriously off-balance—as well as iridescent colors.

In between the concerti comes Armas Järnefeldt’s Berceuse in G minor, which forms a sweetly soulful bridge between the bigger works. But the main story here are the heavy hitters, which live and breathe with becoming freshness.

If there were a cello concerto for 2025, Dmitri Shostakovich’s Second would be a leading candidate—though it probably wouldn’t be the first one folks would want to reach for. Dark and fatalistic, the 1967 effort is hardly a repertoire staple. Yet the piece has received not one but two excellent recordings in just the last couple of months.

The latest, courtesy of Sheku Kanneh-Mason, finds life and defiance hidden in the shadows. His performance is very well directed and, especially in quiet spots, stirringly intense. Throughout, the cellist’s identification with and understanding of the music is palpable. The nervous bits—like the finale’s uncomfortably lilting turns—speak smartly, but there’s also a good deal more whimsy on offer than usual.

Kanneh-Mason has excellent partners in the Sinfonia of London and John Wilson, whose attention to matters of dynamics, articulations, and character pay dividends. All sort of unexpected things emerge (like the drolly biting bassoon trio that pops up in the brusque Allegretto) and the concerto’s climaxes seethe purposefully.

Shostakovich, himself, comes out this performance a winner, too: the cogency of his writing in the concerto really speaks. It’s helped along by Kanneh-Mason’s inclusion of the same composer’s 1934 Cello Sonata which, at times, seems to anticipate some of the later work’s motives and gestures.

In this performance, the cellist is accompanied by his sister, pianist Isata Kanneh-Mason, and they turn in a rip-roaring, Romantic account that taps the songfulness of Shostakovich’s writing. The same pairing does full justice to Benjamin Britten’s more obscure Cello Sonata of 1961, finding a measure of approachable personality in its pages—especially the frolicsome, witty Scherzo-Pizzicato—that one doesn’t always associate with the composer.

All in all, then, this is a brilliantly programmed disc. Though its lineup may look formidable, it proves anything but forbidding thanks to the artistry of all parties involved.

Jonathan Blumhofer is a composer and violist who has been active in the greater Boston area since 2004. His music has received numerous awards and been performed by various ensembles, including the American Composers Orchestra, Kiev Philharmonic, Camerata Chicago, Xanthos Ensemble, and Juventas New Music Group. Since receiving his doctorate from Boston University in 2010, Jon has taught at Clark University, Worcester Polytechnic Institute, and online for the University of Phoenix, in addition to writing music criticism for the Worcester Telegram & Gazette.