This very fine disc is strongly recommended. The coupling of these contemporaneous violin concertos is particularly apposite and musically intelligent, for both will surely appeal to the same music lover, inhabiting – as they do – a memorable combination of lyrical and dramatic originality, so cleverly and expressively laid out for the solo instrument (which neither composer played) and splendidly orchestrated.

These works are genuine virtuoso concertos, of course, and if the Barber has taken longer to enter the repertoire (Heifetz's championship of the Walton ensured the best possible launch of this masterly work) both can now be appreciated for their individual qualities. In the case of the Walton, that rather 'Mediterranean' aspect in his music, which came to dominate his expression after the Second World War, entered his large scale works for the first time in this Concerto. In the case of the Barber, the composer's highly original structural innovations (beginning immediately with soloist and orchestra together – such a difficult procedure plus the long-delayed entry of the soloist in the second movement and the never-ending Presto in modo perpetuo finale) have tended to be overshadowed by Barber's relatively familiar broadly late-Romantic language. In the subtle rhythmic interplay (particularly in the second movements of these works) the composers display their similarity of thought, well brought out in these performances.

Nonetheless, these works pose considerable technical and musical problems for the soloist (and conductor!), which arc supremely surmounted in these performances. Perhaps one reason is that the conductor Joseph Swensen is himself an excellent violinist and can bring just that extra degree of finesse to the partnership, such as we hear in earlier recordings of the Walton (with Goossens) and Barber (with Ormandy), both conductors in those instances being violinists of exceptional attainment in their earlier careers.

The soloist Thomas Bowes is so impressive here. His phrasing is a constant joy, so subtle is his perception – especially in the Walton – of the meanings behind each phrase, without going so far as to emphasize too much the importance of the bars in question. This is very impressive and deeply musical playing, and he is helped by really splendid orchestral playing and a recording which balances him to perfection with the orchestra in a natural acoustic. The disc begins with the Walton Concerto, and before three pages had passed I sensed that I was in for a good performance – and so it proved. Perhaps the Walton remains the greater work: its composer's essential character is more clearly and individually delineated and its emotional content is rather deeper, but the Barber is an adorable composition, even if the language is more readily grasped. Swensen is particularly successful in not emphasizing the quotation from the Sibelius Concerto in the finale of the Walton, subtly blending it within the texture; the difficulties of ensemble in the finale of the Barber are rendered non-existent in this account.

These outstanding performances are accompanied by a group of well-known shorter pieces for strings by both composers – Walton's Henry V miniatures and Barber's immortal Adagio: these are also very finely played by the string section of a first-rate orchestra, and Swensen's tempos are ideal. The booklet notes by Adam Chambers are also first-class, and, as I said at the beginning, this recording is a highly desirable release which I recommend without reservation.

English violinist Thomas Bowes has been a member of the London Philharmonic Orchestra and the Academy of St Martin in the Fields, and was the first leader of the Maggini Quartet. Since the early 1990s he has forged a solo career. This is his concerto recording debut.

Thomas Bowes, best known as an orchestral leader and founder member of the Maggini Quartet, shows his mettle as a formidable virtuoso in these deeply felt readings of two violin concertos that share much. The added string pieces complete what might be regarded as an ideal coupling.

This is another of those discs that I find hard to review. In its own right this captures fine idiomatic and technically secure performances in good if not great sound. Violinist Thomas Bowes is not a name known widely on the international circuit but on the evidence of this disc his playing is the match of many more celebrated players - indeed in the Walton he is much more secure than one of my favourite players Aaron Rosand. But the rub is, does this disc merit purchasing before any of the other versions of either or both concertos? By that highest of all criteria I would have to say no. But for the moment I would rather dwell on the positives. Conductor Joseph Swensen is a fine violinist in his own right and from the liner-note it is clear that he and Bowes are friends as well as musical colleagues. This ensures that there is a real mutual rapport and understanding between fiddle and stick that means the many ensemble/sectional minefields in the Walton in particular are negotiated with ease. Likewise the Malmö Opera Orchestra - although perhaps a little light in numbers in the strings - are agile and alert accompanists. Add fine production and engineering from Tony Harrison and Mike Hatch and the omens are good.

The violin concertos by William Walton and Samuel Barber are almost exactly contemporary – the Walton received its first performance in 1939, two years before the Barber – and they share not only a fundamentally tonal neo-romantic musical language, but also a prevailing mood of nostalgic wistfulness. These works are already well represented on CD, but Thomas Bowes's performances, recorded with the solo violin placed well forward in the sound picture, make a strong case for themselves, especially his account of the Barber, which captures perfectly the first movement's rhapsodic musings. Both composers are also represented in the pieces that top up the disc: Passacaglia on the Death of Falstaff, and Touch Her Soft Lips and Part, both from Walton's Henry V film score, as well as, inevitably, the string-orchestra arrangement of Barber's Adagio.

Given his reputation – he’s led the LSO, RPO, Philharmonia and London Sinfonietta, among other orchestras – it’s surprising that Thomas Bowes should only now be making his first recording as a soloist, and perhaps more surprising that he should choose a programme of Walton and Barer. Having spent three weeks studying Walton’s Violin Concerto at the composer’s home on Ischia, he delivers a masterly account of it, in the company of the Malmö Opera Orchestra. The second movement is especially dramatic, with Bowes essaying flickering rhapsodic moments, assailed by striking orchestral flourishes.

 The Violin Concerto by William Walton is England’s other great violin concerto. In the shadow of the great Concerto by Edward Elgar, Walton’s violin gem has struggled and succeeded into the mainstream repertoire helped in no small way by the championing of Heifetz, who commissioned the work in 1936.

Bowes is hardly a household name, but these exceptional accounts of WaIton's and Barber's near-contemporaneous Violin Concertos – the Englishman's premiered in 1939, the American's two years later – should increase his stock value. They complement each other well, Walton's brilliant idiom supplying enough bite and menace in the fast movements to contrast with Barber's lush melodic vein and orchestration. Bowes yields to none of the Walton's great interpreters – Heifetz (the dedicatee), Menuhin, Franccscatti, Chung, Kennedy – in his dazzling passage work, and he brings a deliciously laid-back italianita to the canzonetta of the middle movement with his gorgeous portamento and rubato.