Such a coupling is unusual on CD these days. However, bearing in mind that Beethoven was influenced by the Mozart concerto, the juxtaposition is appropriate. Yevgeny Sudbin is talked of as one of the top pianists of the new century. I ran comparisons of his Beethoven with one of the benchmarks, the old Emil Gilels recording from 1954. I also chose a contemporary recording with François-Frédéric Guy on Naïve. In every way this new recording matches the Gilels. Sudbin’s evenly measured runs, with just enough lift in the middle of each phrase to keep the performances from sounding too academic, evinces a superb technique. Similarly his elegant and stylishly executed turns are almost cheeky as he exhibits the balance required between power and delicacy demanded from the best Beethoven performers. Guy is gentlemanly by comparison. The Mozart is notable for the balance between soloist and orchestra. If you think you can hear Beethoven coming through the Mozart at times, then so do I. The orchestra is on superb form. Vänskä is not simply an attentive accompanist, but a partner in these adventures. One can see why the Critics’ Circle gave Sudbin the 2013 Exceptional Young Talent award. It is sad…

Adam Fischer gave us a superb set of Haydn symphonies back in the 1990s and more recently some fine early Mozart operas recorded in Denmark where he has recorded these symphonies over the last seven years – now economically released as box set. His approach applies “historically informed performance practice” and he does his best to make his modern orchestra sound like a period band. I must admit that 20 years ago I would have happily embraced this approach but nowadays I miss the singing phrase and emotional gravitas of the much maligned old-school manner – George Szell proved that the 19th-century orchestra could play this music with clarity, bite AND romantic expression so it can be done! Here vibrato is eschewed and textures are lean and mean; I appreciate the delicate wisps of string sound and well projected wind playing but the period hard-stick timpani and braying horns grate on repetition. The brisk tempi and crisp accents generate a breathless excitement with details blurred instead of clearly enunciated. While the approach works in the early symphonies, rooted in their 18th century context, the later symphonies that look forward to the early romantic sound world are seriously short-changed. But then,…

For reasons best known to themselves (perhaps to capitalise on an A-list cast) the Mariinsky launched its series of live Ring Cycle recordings with the second opera of the tetralogy, an acclaimed Die Walküre. Now they’ve backtracked to Das Rheingold, Wagner’s “Vorabend” (“preliminary evening) and if the names in the frame aren’t all as familiar as Walküre’s, fear not: this is a top shelf cast in a musically and dramatically involving performance. René Pape brings serious star wattage as Wotan, of course, and he’s a majestic but lyrical god, singing with meltingly beautiful timbre and a Lieder-like intensity whose relative lack of thunder only heightens our nervous anticipation of the storms ahead. A supersized, sonorous wife would be at odds with his suave Wotan, so Ekaterina Gubanova is a well-chosen Fricka, singing on a similarly elegant scale and with a beguiling hint of soprano-ish silver. Of their offspring, it’s Alexey Markov whose clarion Donner makes the most vivid impression, though there’s little to fault in either Viktoria Yastrebova’s Freia or Sergei Semishkur’s Froh. Stephan Rügamer’s slender, high-lying tenor (the kind one half expects to break into Britten at any moment) brings unctuous relish and pointed detail to Loge, while Andrei Popov’s Mime takes…

Clearing the paper plates of soggy pasta and strudel from the 2013 Verdi and Wagner bicentenary offerings, we come across this fine bottle of French sacrificial wine, uncorked to mark 50 years since the death of Francis Poulenc. The oft-quoted description of the composer as “half monk, half rascal” goes some way to describe the dichotomy of his sacred music, as well as his character in general. All three works feature austere counterpoint grounded in medieval chant yet enveloped in lush orchestral sound with pungent, playful details – the precise dissonances of the Stabat Mater Vidit suum, for instance; the joie de vivre of the Gloria’s Laudamus Te; the Provençal country sir of the Domine Fili. Ever-eccentric French soprano Patricia Petibon proves a sensitive soloist to match Poulenc’s every mood. Her light voice is mysterious on the swooping, ethereal Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, pure-toned but never lacking in warmth; almost too sensual to be sacred. The most austere work is the earliest, the Litanies à la Vierge Noire, dating from 1936 with the openly gay Poulenc’s profound return to Catholicism after the traumatic death of a friend in a car accident. Seeking solace in the sanctuary of Rocamadour with it’s…

Unlike some of today’s prodigies, Rusian pianist Daniil Trifonov (b. 1992) shows every sign of artistic maturity in this live recital, given at New York’s Carnegie Hall in February 2013, where he made his American debut in 2009, aged 18. Two years ago he recorded a Chopin disc for Decca, but this live recital truly puts him on the world stage and signifies a distinguished career ahead. Trifonov’s program comprises the Liszt B Minor Sonata, Scriabin’s Second Piano Sonata, Chopin’s 24 Preludes Op 28 and a short piece by Medtner. The contents of that program suggest his great Soviet predecessor, Sviatoslav Richter. Trifonov does not approach Richter in sheer power and concentration – who ever could? – yet he has more to offer than merely spectacular technique. Subtle and affecting at the soft end of the dynamic spectrum, Trifonov also understands “the demonic element” (as his champion Martha Argerich put it). His Liszt Sonata is truly grounded. Last year I was impressed by Khatia Buniatshvili’s recording, which fizzed with edgy energy, but Trifonov’s less volatile but no less expressive approach properly anchors the work. His lyrical gift is evident in the way he coaxes the chorale theme out of the depths…

This is the sort of ‘spicy’ that doesn’t interfere with polite dinner conversation. Les Passions de l’Âme, the Swiss early music group comprising members of the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra and other illustrious ensembles, have put together a charming program of 17th-century Austrian music that was, thematically at least, a little out of the ordinary during its time. The three composers use the violin to tell stories about life and nature, while exploring its mimetic and technical capabilities. Biber’s Sonata Representativa is the best known here; Meret Lüthi’s sweet-toned solo imitates a clucking hen and a yowling cat with double stopping, tuning and pitch effects. Biber himself was a virtuoso violinist and one really feels the brilliant sense of play and curiosity (which, in this case, didn’t seem to kill the cat). The violin transforms into a sword for Schmelzer’s balletto Die Fechtschule or The Fencing School, in which stately dance forms are given zest as the agile solo part weaves, lunges and attacks. Composers cross swords in Schmelzer’s Battle Against the Turks, based on one of Biber’s Mystery Sonatas. It’s the most ‘exotic’ moment on the album: irresistible tambourine and darabuka percussion (especially in the syncopated Posta turcica), oriental scales…

I found this CD puzzling, but a friend described it as a “marquee” issue – a showcase for the Australian Chamber Orchestra and director, Richard Tognetti. The main courses are the first movement of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto and the first movement of Brahms’ First Symphony. The rest of the program is a Bach violin concerto and two other short excerpts. I’m at a loss to understand why anyone would want to hear just the first movement of the Beethoven or the Brahms. Surely it would have made more sense to issue a double CD featuring both in their entirety. Tognetti’s way with the concerto is admirable. Without sounding rushed, he keeps it moving while retaining the monumental grandeur. His is an unfailingly sweet-toned reading with plenty of animation. The Brahms is similarly flowing, eschewing the granitic approach of Klemperer and Furtwängler. I recently saw Tognetti’s Brahms Fourth. His conducting gestures were infrequent, but the results were stunning: the ACO’s ensemble was tight and the heft of just 48 players was amazing. This is not quite as impressive but I’d still like to hear the entire performance as the textures are admirably lucid with just the right quotient of bounce or schwung…

Richard Egarr sets out to push boundaries while staying within the confines of historically informed music-making. Here he’s got our limited concept of the symphony in his sights, and has put together a program that demonstrates the enormous diversity and rapid development of the genre from Handel to Haydn. It’s an instructive journey: already you can hear the germ of the symphony in the Sinfonia from Handel’s oratorio Saul (1738), while the Grande Simphonie No 7 by Franz Xavier Richter (c.1740) and Stamitz’s Sinfonia in D (c.1750) demonstrate the stylistic and technical revolutions that were taking place at the famed Mannheim Court at the time. Mozart’s Symphony No 1, composed when he was just eight-years-old, reflects not only the influence of Mannheim but that of JC Bach; finally, one of Haydn’s masterpieces, the Symphony No 49 (La Passione) epitomises the Sturm und Drang style of sharply contrasting extremes of emotion, thus prefiguring Beethoven. The AAM are perfect advocates, their playing crisp and light yet virtuosic and given to extravagant gestures where the musical rhetoric demands it. This is most evident in the Mannheim works, where the loudest fortissimo and the quietest pianissimo are rendered with painterly skill amid a hail…

Jonathan Nott’s Mahler 6 joins the ranks of good but not great readings of this behemoth. The main tempo of the opening movement (with repeat observed) conveys much of the frenetic grimness that depicts the dire determination of someone setting out on a journey he knows will not be easy. I still think the legendary Barbirolli version (45 years young and recorded when performances of this work were rarities) gets the initial Allegro just right: the schleppend or “dragging” sensation makes the opening even grimmer. Pappano does it equally well in his recent version. Nott’s not afraid to achieve a slow motion quality in the celeste-driven “dream sequence”. The expansiveness never robs the movement of power. The scherzo (rightly, in my opinion, placed second) maintains the momentum and seems to describe a malevolent troupe of marionettes before it peters out like a clockwork toy. The Andante, the real emotional heart of the work, is taken moderately, the faux naïve tone fraught with dark undercurrents. The climax is impressive. The final movement, an entire universe in itself, is superbly handled, catapulting the Bambergers into the realm of virtuoso German ensembles. My only grumble is that the hammer blows (two here) lack the sickening… Continue…

Handel’s Serse of 1738 with its buffo elements and fast moving structure baffled the critics of the day who singularly failed to recognise Handel’s dramaturgical innovations; it was dismissed by some as a mere “ballad”opera and Charles Burney took him to task for reinstating the tragicomedic that had been banished from opera seria. Relying less on the static three-part da capo aria in favour of short snappy one-movement numbers it suits the light, nimble touch of Christian Curnyn and the Early Opera Company whose excellence in this field is a known quantity and the cast is ideal. Anna Stéphany is superb in the title pants-role, caressing the ear in moments of contemplation yet with sufficient metal in the voice to suggest the warrior king without going over the top and turning the character into a basket-case – her Se Bramante d’amar is a lesson in dramatic projection. Rosemary Joshua’s Romilda is her father’s child with nobility in the voice yet also a vulnerable femininity while her beau David Daniels is as strapping and heroic as a counter-tenor can manage. Thankfully the more comic characters are played relatively straight; Brindley Sherratt avoids conventional bluster as the soldier prince Ariodate, Hilary… Continue…

  Monteverdi is celebrated for bringing opera to birth, but his extraordinary creativity also saw the gradual dissolving of the stylistic boundaries between sacred and secular music. Here we have a pleasantly varied sample of Monteverdi’s secular music, drawn from the later books of madrigals and some well known operatic items. Two of the items, the arresting Toccata from Orfeo and the vivacious Chiome d’oro from the Seventh Book of Madrigals, were ‘recycled’ as sacred pieces. One of the themes running through this selection is, as the booklet note puts it, “the sweet pains of love”. The most intense expressions of painful love are found in three laments. Lasciatemi morire, the only surviving music from the opera Arianna, was reworked as a five-part madrigal in which Arianna’s pain is intensified by some wonderful dissonances. A Dio, Roma from The Coronation of Poppea is movingly sung by Sarah Connolly while Lamento della Ninfa (one of the first laments over a descending bass) moves and impresses by gaining maximum impact from so little material. Charles Daniels sings Possente spirito, the famous tour de force from Orfeo with great agility and empathy, expertly accompanied by a phalanx of cornetts. The prologue from Orfeo……

Glamorous German violinist Julia Fischer looks like a thoroughly modern classical celebrity, but in recital her repertoire is in the grand tradition of the mid-20th century when programs never seemed complete without Tartini’s Devil’s Trill Sonata, Ravel’s Tzigane and works by the subject of Fischer’s fifth Decca CD, the 19th-century Spanish showman Sarasate. These dazzling works, composed at a time when Sarasate rivalled Joachim as Europe’s finest violinist, make great showstoppers and encores, but what’s surprising is how satisfying they turn out to be in their own right. Beginning with a couple of Spanish dances, it’s apparent from the get-go how effortlessly the 30-year-old masters the technical challenges of works designed to leave jaws on floor. She sounds like she’s having fun, and why wouldn’t she, especially in Zigeunerweisen, whose czárdás rhythm allows Fischer and accompanist Milana Chernyavska to demonstrate how convincingly a German and a Ukrainian can perform Spanish music inspired by Hungarian gypsies. The highlight, though, is the Serenata Andaluza, whose opening raises expectations of Bizet’s Carmen wandering in, but then transforms into one of those million-miles- an-hour extravaganzas of the kind that prompted George Bernard Shaw to say Sarasate’s music “left criticism gasping miles behind him”. Amen……