A fine souvenir for those who attended, and an enjoyable recital for all music lovers.

Brazilian pianist Fabio Martino studied and now lives in Germany. His second solo recital disc concentrates on the big guns of the Romantic repertoire: Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No 23 (Appassionata); Liszt’s three Liebesträume, and Schumann’s Fantasy in C, Op. 17. Martino’s Appassionata is clearly conceived as a whole. He saves the surging drama for the final movement, notably the closing Presto, and deliberately understates the work’s opening movement, which proceeds prettily with no overt suggestions of significance. The work unfolds naturally: an approach I like in Beethoven. The Liszt pieces are sympathetically done, with poise and a feeling for rubato that gives them an improvisational feel. Martino seems especially in touch with the sound world of Schumann. In the rhapsodic Fantasie of 1835 he sweeps through the Sturm und Drang with passion, and is suitably restrained in the final movement. Here’s a young artist whose superlative technique is placed completely at the service of the composer. Who is Zequinha de Abreu? He wrote the song Tico Tico, made famous by an older Brazilian bombshell, Carmen Miranda. Marc-André Hamelin’s challenging arrangement provides the quirky (and, to be honest, not entirely appropriate) encore to this recital. Martino tosses it off with controlled…

The six volumes making up Bartók’s Mikrokosmos series are often appreciated mainly for their pedagogical intent. But dynamic French pianist Cédric Tiberghien is out to demonstrate just how expressive and individual these short etudes can be, and that they may offer insights into Bartók’s compositional practice.   With this disc, Tiberghien investigates the fifth book in the series. It contains miniatures devoted specifically to technique, such as ‘chords together and in opposition’, ‘alternating thirds’, and ‘syncopation’. But there are numerous other works, which spotlight Bartók’s transformation and adaption of Eastern European folk material. There are also plenty of simply gorgeous musical moments, as in the fourth miniature, Boating, which undulates with dreamy modal harmonies.   Also on the programme are the Romanian Folk Dances, which are some of Bartók’s most well-known compositions, particularly in their incarnations for violin and piano, and for orchestra. The piano arrangements permit plenty of flexibility in interpretation, and Tiberghien’s readings are full of fun and energy, with a refreshingly free approach to tempo. The Bagatelles are fascinating. Composed in 1908, they demonstrate a composer (not yet 30) with an innovative harmonic imagination, looking to bend the rules inherited from the Romantic period. Tiberghien negotiates the…

The young Bell learns about perseverance and second chances in The Dance of the Violin.

Sony Australia has chosen the Sydney radio host to feature on the inaugural album for its new Masterworks label.

Virtuosity and poetry from the young Russian in a truly memorable recital.

Google’s new musical experiment with artificial intelligence means you’ll never have to play alone again.

The prestigious Australian comp marks 40 years with national recital tours by First Prize and People's Choice winners.

Joseph Nolan pulls out all the stops and is 'knighted' for his pains.

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet has arranged his cycle of Beethoven piano sonatas chronologically in order of composition, meaning this final instalment encompasses the biggest of Beethoven’s hitters: the Appassionata, Hammerklavier and Opus 109, 110 and 111 included. I think it’s fair to say that Bavouzet’s approach has divided opinion. If Artur Schnabel or Emil Gilels are your go-to Beethoven pianists, then Bavouzet’s lean-and-mean textures – apparently achieved with a minimum of pedal, and fingers so transparent that they must be see-through – locate other impulses inside this music which might not appeal. Known primarily as an interpreter of Debussy and Ravel, Bavouzet views Beethoven as not just a progressive, but also a Modernist. This Beethoven is determinately non-sentimental (as already demonstrated by Bavouzet’s chilling, near-dystopian take on the Moonlight Sonata in volume 2 of his cycle) with a knack of clarifying form by emphasising moments of fracture. Bavouzet clearly follows a lineage of French Beethoven that begins with Yves Nat and hits peak chichi streamlined Modernism as Pierre-Laurent Aimard records the concertos with Harnoncourt. Except that Bavouzet remains his own man. So much to enjoy here, so much that makes me want to listen again. Perhaps perversely I began my deep dive…

Jakob Lindberg has well and truly earned his reputation as one of the top lute players in the world. In this fine recital, he performs the music of Francesco da Milano, Marco dall’Aquila and Alberto da Mantova. In its heyday, the lute was the instrument of the greatest composers in the same way the piano was the instrument of choice in later centuries. These three Italian Renaissance lutenists were regarded as some of the finest musicians of the age (for example, da Milano was apparently nicknamed “Il Divino” and described as being “superior to Orpheus and Apollo”!). Although this is music of dense, criss-crossing contrapuntal lines, which makes it sound knotty and complex, in fact these pieces are ever-tuneful. In the liner notes, Lindberg divides the pieces into three categories – fantasias/ricecars (where the composer writes freely whatever he feels like), intabulations (re-workings of music originally for voices), and dances. Adept combining of pieces from each category ensures that there’s never a dull moment and that the pieces are shown in their best light, with ricecars rubbing shoulders with vocal music by Josquin and Arcadelt. BIS certainly knows how to make the instrument sound good. There’s a subtle reverb to…

Since he picked up his father's synth and fell in love with music, the Russian's rise has been meteoric. How does he handle it all?