Nicole Cabell
Arias

Two years ago, an American soprano named Nicole Cabell won the Singer of the World competition in Cardiff. Her publicity materials tell us she is a woman of “African-American/Caucasian/Korean heritage.” She says, “My ethnicity is very important to me.” Ugh — how modern.

Is it too much to ask that the music world be immune from the blood-and-skin obsession that afflicts the rest of the world? Yes.

At any rate, Ms. Cabell is represented on a new disc from the Decca label. It is a compilation of arias, giving us a range of favorites. We will sample a few tracks.

She sings “What a curse for a woman is a timid man!” from Menotti’s little opera-for-radio, “The Old Maid and the Thief.” This is the aria made semi-famous by Dawn Upshaw on a late-1980s recording. Ms. Cabell sings it respectably, although it could be more soaring, rhapsodic, and thrilling — more filling.

She is respectable, too, in “Summertime,” which she sings straightforwardly, plainly. In truth, this is a little dull. And “Doretta’s Song,” from Puccini’s “Rondine,” could use more panache.

The same is true of several other tracks, which are competent — respectable — but nothing to flip for. One of the most satisfying items here is “How can I cherish my man in such days,” from Tippett’s oratorio “A Child of Our Time.” Ms. Cabell handles it with care.

Her orchestra is the London Philharmonic, led by Sir Andrew Davis. They, too, are competent, and sometimes a little better than that (as in “Depuis le jour,” Charpentier’s hit from “Louise,” which they kiss with some magic).

My criticisms aside, you can tell that Nicole Cabell loves to sing, and loves the music that composers have given her to sing. This is an “intangible,” and greatly important.

BAIBA SKRIDE
Shostakovich and Janácÿek

So far, Gidon Kremer may be the only Latvian violinist you have heard of, but add another to your repertory: Baiba Skride, born in 1981. When she was a youngster — much younger than now — she won the Queen Elisabeth Competition. And, judging from her latest CD, she’s the real McCoy.

The main work on this disc (from Sony Classical) is Shostakovich’s Violin Concerto No. 1, one of the greatest of all concertos for that instrument, or for any instrument. It is saying a lot to report that Ms. Skride is equal to the work.

In the opening movement (Nocturne), she is appropriately bleak and intense — quietly intense. But her bleakness is tempered with lyricism. And she has an excellent partner in Mikko Franck, one of the better young conductors of today. The orchestra is the Munich Philharmonic.

The next movement — the Scherzo — is rightly jagged and impassioned. Tempos are a little fast, and the performers might savor, might relish, the music a bit more. But their approach is certainly defensible.

In the cadenza leading to the final movement, Ms. Skride shows commendable judgment, judgment being paramount here. And in the final movement itself? (This is the Burlesque, we’re talking about.)

Ms. Skride is smart, sly, and nearly bewitching. But she could use a little more bite, even some savagery and rawness. Still, Shostakovich’s shattering and exhilarating points are made.

Also on this disc is what is called Janácek ÿ ‘s Violin Concerto, which the composer started but did not persevere with: This piece was cobbled together from fragments in the 1980s. It sounds Janácekian ÿ , however, and Ms. Skride plays it in Janácekian ÿ fashion. She is mature, pronounced, and striking. Notable is the exciting liquid tone she sometimes applies.

And she collaborates with another good conductor, Marek Janowski, who leads another German orchestra: the Radio Symphony Orchestra of Berlin.

SOL GABETTA
Tchaikovsky, Saint-Saëns, and Ginastera

Have one more musician born in 1981: Sol Gabetta, a cellist from Argentina. On an RCA Red Seal disc, she plays Tchaikovsky’s “Rococo Variations,” with the Radio Orchestra of Munich conducted by Ari Rasilainen.

And how does Ms. Gabetta do? Admirably. She is smooth and elegant, poised and balanced. She appears to have plenty of technique, but that is incidental. If you wanted to lodge a complaint against this “Rococo,” it would be this: It could stand a bit more pizzazz. But the cellist’s common sense is to be appreciated.

She goes on to play three small pieces by Tchaikovsky: “Andante cantabile,” “Pezzo capriccioso,” and “Nocturne.” The first of those pieces, Yo-Yo Ma played in Carnegie Hall, about a month and a half ago. He did so with surpassing beauty. Ms. Gabetta handles it well too, maintaining her common sense, not allowing the piece to become soup.

After all this Tchaikovsky comes the A-minor concerto by Saint-Saëns. And Ms. Gabetta ends her disc with a nod to the homeland: She plays Ginastera’s “Pampeana” No. 2, subtitled a “Rhapsody.” This is not the best piece that fine composer ever wrote, but Ms. Gabetta renders it nicely: with tanginess, twanginess, and enjoyment.

A final word, about an “external”: The cellist smiles out from the CD cover, and she is just about the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. This cannot hurt sales. And please don’t shoot the messenger: I’m not responsible for life, I merely report on it.