Newcastle-born and -based, Charles Avison issued his string arrangements of harpsichord sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti in 1744. Forty-two of Scarlatti's sonatas had been published by Roseingrave in London five years earlier and it was these which, by and large, provided Avison with his material. 'By and large', since, as Stephen Roe remarks in his note, the sonatas included only two slow movements and Avison, planning 12 concertos in the slow-fast-slow-fast scheme favoured by his teacher, Geminiani, required 24.

The Octet in F major, D. 803 was composed by Franz Schubert in March 1824. It was commissioned by the renowned clarinetist Ferdinand Troyer and came from the same period as two of Schubert's other major chamber works, the 'Rosamunde' and 'Death and the Maiden'.The Octet boasts the largest scale for any chamber work by Schubert. It is scored for a clarinet, bassoon, horn, two violins, viola, cello, and a double bass. This instrumentation is similar to that of the Beethoven Septet, differing only by the addition of a second violin.

Sir Neville Marriner thins out the usual ASMF textures and leads vigorous, stately accounts of both the Water Music Suites and the Music for the Royal Fireworks. The playing is snappy, the feeling of dance-inspired animation just right. This is the ideal compilation, presenting both scores complete; and the sound is open, well balanced, and extremely well defined.

Jephtha was the last full-length composition that Handel wrote. (The Triumph of Time and Truth of 1757 was almost entirely made up of pre-existing music.) Given this fact, and also that the actual writing of it was an inordinately laborious task for Handel as he fought with rapidly failing eyesight, it's incomparable depth of expression and personal commitment make the whole work a profound and magnificent conclusion to his life's output. Based on a story from Judges XI, it tells of Jephtha leading the Israelites against the Ammonites and his ultimate sacrifice.

This Mass in B Minor led by Sir Neville Marriner is an excellent choice for those looking for modern orchestral instruments, lively, full adult choruses, and a solid lineup of soloists. Marriner’s performance lacks the ponderously stodgy tempos of those older recordings, but he does not bypass the beauty, spirituality, or grandiosity inherent in the music in favour of speed.

Vivaldi's sacred music is not so famous as that of his contemporaries Bach and Handel, so this is a bargain opportunity to catch up. You might think Vivaldi's playful, virtuoso Italianate character and Catholic context would produce radically different music, but in George Guest's urgent readings, the mixture of restrainedly exultant choruses and austerely beautiful arias are near-identical to Bach.

While most serious listeners already have their favorite sets of J.S. Bach's Brandenburg Concertos and the Orchestral Suites, newcomers searching for respectable recordings at a reasonable price would do well to start with this triple-CD set by Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. These recordings were made in 1984 and 1985, and still offer fine sound for early digital recording and exceptional musical value. Marriner's performances may not be as exacting and scrupulous about Baroque performance practice as those of Gustav Leonhardt or Trevor Pinnock, but they are informed by serious scholarship and have sufficient appeal to make the finer points debatable.

In anticipation of Beethoven's 250th birthday in 2020, Jan LIsiecki presents a full cycle of Beethoven's five piano concertos, accompanied by the Academy of St Martin in the Fields. Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 4 in G Major, Op. 58 has particularly played a significant role in Lisiecki's career. In 2013, he performed the work with Orchestra Mozart under Claudio Abbado in Bologna, an indisposed Martha Argerich at short notice, and he performed the same work at his Carnegie Hall debut.

These distinguished, if not perfect, recordings made in 1984. They should be amongst everyone’s preferred renditions. They are brisk but not tense, dramatic and even playful when need be. Occasionally, but only at rare moments, such as the beginning of the “Prague” Symphony, I would like something a little fiercer. Mostly Marriner is right on, as in the transition between the darkish introduction to the first movement of the Symphony No. 39 and its exuberant main theme.

This collection of ten Classical symphonies concertantes was recorded (quadraphonically!) in 1977 and issued as a five-record set by EMI Electrola. Now it has been licensed by CPO and reissued economically on just three CDs.

Things that don't fit neatly into pigeonholes have always had a hard time, and so it has been with the saxophone; Hoffnung's string-tuba would have had very big problems. Sax was a tireless inventor: his plans for a monster canon, and a device for playing loud music from Parisian high ground never bore fruit, but the former anticipated Saddam Hussein and the latter, scaled down, is with us as Muzak. Though the saxophone has never found a regular place in the orchestra it has nevertheless captured the interest of a long line of composers; a square peg doesn't need to fit into any orchestral round hole when it is centre-stage.