A terrific idea that almost but not quite comes off, this disc called Chaconne takes as its basis Bach's Chaconne from his D minor Partita for solo violin and adds transcriptions of the work for piano by Johannes Brahms, Ferruccio Busoni, and Rudolf Lutz, the last named the teacher of pianist Edna Stern. It nearly succeeds. Stern's playing in the transcriptions is far more than professional, but not quite up to the level of the music.

German pianist Holger Groschopp has emerged as something of a specialist in the voluminous body of transcriptions by Ferruccio Busoni. The most famous of these are treatments of Bach's music, but he also wrote arrangements and reworkings of Mozart, Liszt, and many other composers. This is a new recording of Bach transcriptions, made in 2011. Busoni's transcriptions are often heard singly on recital albums, but there's a lot to be said for hearing them in large groups, even for hearing the two CDs' worth here. It gets into the range of treatments Busoni applied, from massive Mahlerian attempts to encompass the world of the organ on piano, to studies in chromatic harmony, to quiet reverential treatments.

Riccardo Muti takes time out here to present some of the lesser known, rarely heard orchestral scores of his fellow countrymen, and a superbly played, enjoyable concert it is too. Proceedings commence with a fine and spirited performance of Alfredo Casella's divertimento Paganiniana—not a great piece by any means but a work possessing plenty of charm and humour nevertheless; the outer movements are a bit of a romp (very opera buffa) and must have been as much fun to write as they clearly are for the La Scala Philharmonic to play.

Once a towering inspirational figure in the musical life of Berlin, later a crucial influence on musicians as diverse as Sibelius, Varèse, Schoenberg and Weill, Ferruccio Busoni is now being rediscovered by a new generation of performers and listeners.

John Ogdon was one of the great interpreters of Ferruccio Busoni's keyboard music in the first stage of its latter-day revival, and his EMI Angel recording of Busoni's Piano Concerto, Op. 39, can be said to have "made" that work as a viable, if impractical, concert staple. Between that triumph in 1967 and the recordings on Altarus' Busoni: Piano Works, made in 1988 – the last full year of Ogdon's short life – there were a host of detours and disappointments for the pianist. A nervous breakdown or two, long hospitalizations, longer absences from the concert stage, and a comeback received lukewarmly by critics were all hallmarks of a career that would have stopped lesser men cold.

The inimitable young British pianist James Rhodes returns with his second recital album. Since the release of his first album last year, Razor Blades, Little Pills and Big Pianos, James’ career has moved from strength to strength. Sales of his debut album rocketed him to the top of the UK iTunes classical chart after Stephen Fry championed him on Twitter, and he has since built a strong following of fans in concert halls and online.

A pianist’s dream: a rare and precious testament of a great pianist’s vision (Busoni) of another’s (Liszt) work. Very popular repertoire in extremely rare versions. Ferruccio Busoni (1866-1924) was one of the most gifted pianists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, as well as being a composer of considerable importance and vision. A child prodigy, he debuted at the age of 12, being quickly marked out as a piano virtuoso unlike any other. His reputation for many years rested on his remarkable transcriptions of J.S Bach, which tended to overshadow both his original compositions and his other transcriptions.

Busoni was not only one of the greatest pianists of his age but also a composer and theorist of daunting intellect. His three idols were Bach, Mozart and Liszt and this disc presents two transcriptions, and in the Fantasia contrappuntistica a colossal re-imagining, each paying tribute to the past while reflecting Busoni’s genius as both creator and re-creator.

Some years ago a distinguished music professor said to me, "You must go and see Doktor Faust at English National Opera - you'll hear a second rank composer at the height of his powers". Backhanded though this compliment may seem, it was clearly conveyed with a spirit admiration and perhaps a tinge of surprise.

Rarely have Busoni’s orchestral works been animated with such grasp, interpretive authority, and sheer executive brilliance. Passionate advocates haven’t lacked, but they’ve been hampered by second-string ensembles, incomprehension, expedience, and timorous interpretive gambits. Even Marc-André Hamelin’s otherwise splendid go at the Piano Concerto was marred by too often faceless, routine orchestral backup.

Die Zusammenarbeit zwischen Sergiu Celibidache und den Berliner Philharmonikern begann am 29. August 1945, im einem der tragischsten Momente der Orchestergeschichte. Das angestammte Haus, der Konzertsaal in der Bernburger Straße, lag zerbombt in Schutt und Asche, Chefdirigent Wilhelm Furtwängler durfte, auf sein Entnazifizierungsverfahren wartend, nicht dirigieren und Interimsdirigent Leo Borchard war wenige Tage zuvor versehentlich von einem amerikanischen Wachposten erschossen worden. Das verwaiste Orchester suchte händeringend nach einem Leiter, der die bereits geplanten Konzerte übernehmen konnte. Von den großen Dirigenten stand keiner zur Verfügung und so erhielt ein junger, unbekannter Hochschulabsolvent, der gerade den Dirigentenwettbewerb des Rundfunkorchesters gewonnen hatte, seine große Chance: Sergiu Celibidache. Der damals 33-jährige Rumäne, Schüler von Heinz Tiessen und Walter Gmeindl sowie ein großer Bewunderer Furtwänglers, besaß wenig Erfahrung, aber Talent, Ehrgeiz und Charisma.

Doktor Faust remained a fragment at the time of the composer's death. Busoni died in 1924, unable to complete what he himself described as his ''state masterpiece'' - an opera to which he had a deep personal attachment. The missing scenes from the score - the appearance of Helen and Faust's closing monologue - were completed by his pupil, Philipp Jarnach, whom Busoni had become acquainted with during his period in exile in Zürich. In this form the opera was given its first performance in Dresden in 1925. Then in the 1980s the conductor Anthony Beaumont came across previously undiscovered sketches by Busoni and produced a new version of Doktor Faust, which was premiered in Bologna in 1985. The current recording uses the Jarnach score.