Surely there has to be something wrong if the rarest pieces go to eager amateur orchestras who can't play them, and the most popular ones to exhausted pros who don't want to? The major UK orchestras do offer plenty of reasonably unusual material — Suk's Asrael Symphony pops up now and then, for instance. But even that is better known than most of Hyperion's chosen concerti. Why should it be so unusual for a seriously rare work to be played by a good professional orchestra in a major hall? 

Promoters usually get it in the neck for not taking enough risks. If they're right in thinking that only popular works sell tickets, maybe we could also ask why audiences seem reluctant to give an unfamiliar piece a chance. Why are we so afraid of unknown music that we refuse to try it at all, rather than risk disappointment? Aren't we depriving ourselves of unsuspected pleasure if it turns out that the piece is good? We literally don't know what we're missing. Of course there's a theory that the best music selects itself by its staying power over the centuries — but that doesn't mean that lesser compositions never offer any rewards. Pieces sometimes vanish for reasons other than quality: fashion, politics, early death or plain bad luck.

Unfortunately, musical snobbery plays a part. We somehow feel it reflects badly on us if we're seen to enjoy a piece of music that others do not approve of. There's a crazy amount of peer pressure in this most unlikely cultural corner; audiences perhaps are reluctant to trust their own taste. That is probably why, for instance, so many innocent music lovers still regurgitate guff about Mendelssohn being "shallow" without any idea that they're merely prolonging a Nazi smear campaign.

Sometimes a rare work does begin to catch on thanks to the efforts of a devoted musician. But after that, follow-through is needed and usually doesn't happen. The Violin Concerto by Mieczyslaw Karlowicz is on Hyperion's series in a gorgeous recording by Tasmin Little, and was also recorded wonderfully by Nigel Kennedy in his Polish Spirit album. Karlowicz, a major talent, was killed in an accident in the Tatra mountains aged only 32. The concerto has bagfuls of charm and captures imaginations and hearts when given half a chance. Still promoters prefer to book the Bruch, convinced that only familiar works will sell enough tickets.