For the musicians of the Australian Art Orchestra, Crossing Roper Bar is a labour of love, an evolving project that began in 2005, when they first started collaborating with musicians from Ngukurr, in Arnhem Land. This recording features just six AAO members: Paul Grabowsky (piano), Tony Hicks (saxophones, flutes, clarinets), Erkki Veltheim (viola), Stephen Magnusson (guitar), Phillip Rex (bass) and Niko Schauble (drums). They perform alongside four members of the Young Wagilak Group: Benjamin Wilfred, Roy Wilfred, David Wilfred and Wesley Wilfred, who sing or chant, beat rhythms on clapsticks or play didgeridoos. There is a constant juxtaposition of ancient and modern sounds, traditional songs and improvised forays. The five pieces on the album make for a fascinating journey, with the AAO musicians setting the scene for the entry of the Wagilak group, then variously giving them space, or offering discreetly creative accompaniment before moving into bolder ensemble passages.

Since Fela Kuti’s death in 1997, his legend has spread far and wide. Enormously popular in his native Nigeria, he has been acknowledged as one of the greatest ever stars of African music. The musical Fela!, based on his life, is now playing on the stages of Broadway and London and his back catalogue is being re-released. This introductory compilation is an excellent edited choice of 13 powerful tracks. Known for his vibrant Afrobeat rhythms and his strident political messages, Fela Kuti’s voice will stay alive and unique.

This Alexandre Desplat score was unfairly passed over for the Best Soundtrack gong at the Oscars.

In the 1990s Maria João Pires recorded all the Mozart keyboard sonatas for DG on a modern concert grand. She played with perfect balance and poise, and the sound was creamily beautiful, even in the allegros. I wouldn’t be without that set, but turn to Bezuidenhout and you’ll notice a more subtle and varied range of colours, especially at the dark end of the spectrum. The young South African pianist plays a copy of an Anton Walter fortepiano from 1802. He finds a burnished depth of tone in the middle register that really works for the plangent andante cantabile of the C major Sonata (K330). This reading is intimate and deeply felt: as much a tribute to Bezuidenhout’s focused, imaginative playing as it is to the tone of his instrument. Similarly, he launches into the finale with uninhibited joyfulness, the rasping accented bass notes delightfully brusque. He is equally deft at wringing emotion out of the chromatic turns of phrase in the minor key works. Among these are the moody Adagio in B minor, thought to be Mozart’s lament upon the death of his father. While the fortepiano’s action inevitably produces a modicum of clatter in forte passages, that is a small…

Ashkenazy’s performance of Elgar’s Second was a blinder and a very exciting event. However, live performances do not always translate to equally successful recordings. Elgar’s Second never fully recovered from the expectations of the original audience. His First Symphony had been a great success and the flag-waving Brits of 1910 were up for more pomp and circumstance, especially coming only days after the death of Edward VII. Instead, Elgar gave them this remarkable, wonderful symphony, a much harder nut to crack than his first, with its broad, confident themes. Many experts, from composer George Lloyd onwards, have regarded the Second as the greatest English symphony ever written.Though this is an excellent recording of the work, it is somewhat brash and often lacks nuance. A reflection of Ashkenazy’s bull-in-a-china-shop approach to conducting, which can be very exciting in the concert hall, especially when the Sydney orchestra lets out all of its considerable stops. The benchmark recording of the work is that of Sir John Barbirolli and the Hallé Orchestra (EMI 50999 9 68924 2). Immediately you can hear the problem with the newer recording. The Halle’s strings are rich and dazzling; Barbirolli’s reading wonderfully varied and dynamic.Despite these reservations, this new recording…

The Times of London said of the playing of Alison Balsom that “she makes the trumpet sing with an irresistible exuberance and eloquence”. I think that hits the nail squarely on the head. Her virtuosity is of quite a different order from that of, say, Sergei Nakariakov, whose blistering technique is something like watching a very accomplished acrobat. In Balsom’s case, it’s much more like listening to a very fine coloratura singer. This is especially evident in the slow movements of these fascinating concertos, where the trumpet really shines and sings with a lyricism rare for the instrument. This disc has a collection of the sort of music which really shows off Alison Balsom’s talents. The writing in many of these Baroque pieces is complex and high, but she takes it in her stride with polished ease. The one exception in the list of usual Baroque suspects (Tartini, Vivaldi, Marcello, Albinoni) is Domenico Cimarosa, who didn’t actually write the charming concerto included here. It was “assembled” by Australian composer Arthur Benjamin from themes from Cimarosa’s many operas. The adaptation is a great success, and the piece has been in the repertoire of oboists (here it’s transcribed for trumpet by Balsom…

Ray Chen’s Sony Classical debut, Virtuoso, captures the unmistakable spark of brilliance in the 22-year-old’s command of showpieces.

Rachmaninov’s Symphony No 2 in E minor was written in 1906-7, after the composer had recovered from a bout of depression triggered by the disastrous premiere of his First Symphony. While he wrote significant works in between, the Second Symphony marks his full maturity as a master of the orchestra. This is not only the Rachmaninov of soaring, sequential string melodies but also of bouncing scherzos and piquant woodwinds. In particular, the slow movement requires a truly sensitive clarinettist. There have been several magnificent recordings of this symphony, starting with André Previn’s 1973 version (EMI). Previn’s approach was pliable and “capital R” Romantic. Pletnev (DG) was swift and articulate. Jansons (EMI) combined the best of both worlds, and Pappano does the same in this new live recording. As a leading opera conductor, Pappano knows precisely when to broaden the tempo, when to press forward, and how to shape a long lyrical phrase. The St Cecilia players sound tight as a drum – accompanying figures are never opaque: unsuspected orchestral colours leap out at you. Liadov’s Enchanted Lake is beautifully realised too. The mysterious soft opening trills had me holding my breath. No wonder Liadov was Diaghilev’s first choice to compose The Firebird! The…

Georgian violinist Lisa Batiashvili has joined the ranks of Znaider, Ehnes, Hahn, Benedetti et al with this magnificent rendition of Shostakovich’s First Violin Concerto – now virtually a calling card for every violin wizard. While any of David Oistrakh’s various versions of this work remain sans pareil (at least in interpretative terms) she’s still up against formidable competition. The kaleidoscopic combination of moods – ranging from the dark solemnity and emotional bleakness of the introduction to the exquisitely haunted lyricism of the passacaglia movement, to the manic, sardonic scherzo and final burlesque – clearly hold no terrors for her and her tempi, seemingly slower than usual, enhance the reading. Throughout, her playing radiates profound emotion. This is musicianship of a very high order. The other music on the CD is Giya Kancheli’s V and V for violin and taped voice with string orchestra, Shostakovich’s Lyrical Waltz from The Seven Dolls Suite arranged by her father, Arvo Pärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel (“Mirror in the Mirror”) and Rachmaninov’s Vocalise, all played with equally ravishing beauty (the pianist in the Pärt and Rachmaninov is Hélène Grimaud, no less). Alas, the liner notes don’t contain a word about the Pärt or Kancheli works, neither of which is exactly a well-ploughed furrow. The…

Led by Perth-based composer and arranger Johannes Luebbers, this dectet successfully straddles the jazz-classical divide. The album touches other forms such as rock and pop: Aaron Malone provides a soulful vocal cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, accompanied by nimble guitarist Simon Jeans.  The title track is layer upon layer of richly bladed sectional coatings underneath exciting solos by altoist Ben Collins and pianist Chris Foster, bookended by a jaunty dialogue between piano, drums and bass. Just Ripe is a lavish theme given a post-modern bent featuring trumpeter Callum G’Froerer. Everything for Brod increases in lyrical intensity with an oboe intro from Steph Nicholls but soon swells in orchestral energy before retreating to woodwind and piano sobriety – only to explode once again, exemplifying the textural and dramatic qualities of Luebbers’ pen.

Wow. Just when you thought you knew all about Cuban music, along comes this steaming hot release to prove you wrong. If the incredibly spirited music of the Creole Choir is distinctly different from the Cuban dance music of the Buena Vista Social Club phenomenon, it’s for a good reason. Its ten members are descended from Haitians who were brought to Cuba as slaves in the 18th century.  Those slaves’ ancestry accounts for the heavy African sound in both their drumming – the only instrumental accompaniment – and striking vocal melodies. If you also think you hear French and Spanish inflections in the vocals, it’s because the choir sing in Creole, a pot pourri of European, Caribbean and African tongues. These are extraordinarily fiery performances – enough to light up the sky on the darkest of days.

Fans of Fado might like to investigate Joana Amendoeira’s new disc Setimo Fado. As indicated, this is her seventh disc, but it’s only her second album to be released here. Fado’s nostalgic longings for love, life and distant shores are understood universally – across language and culture. In 17 short songs, with their traditional accompaniment of Portuguese guitar, bass and acoustic guitar (and touches of piano, accordion and cello), Joana Amendoeira sings directly from her heart.