Ashkenazy and Previn are broadly agreed on choice of tempos throughout the work. At the very opening, after the magical silvery flutes, Ashkenazy is a shade more volatile and he certainly echoes the words "sparkle and dash" in the evocation of the "sledges dashing in a row, their bells jingling". Here his tenor soloist, Ryszard Karczykowski, brings an added degree of temperament to the singing. In the slow movement too, Natalia Troitskaya's contribution has all the freshness of Armstrong, yet there is a natural slavonic feeling too—the singing opens up that bit more, yet without a hint of crudeness.

Heinrich Schiff gives a fine interpretation of both concertos and has suberb orchestral balance with two of the finest European orchestras – the Amsterdam Concergebouw under Colin Davis and the Dresden Statkapelle under Neville Marinner. Both orchestras have gorgeous sound and both conductors are extremely supportive at every turn.

The Second Concerto is more unitary in manner. There are still occasional moments of hard tone from Ashkenazy, but they are less noticeable here. It’s a nice performance if you like a pretty broad first movement, an energetic but controlled Scherzo, a mellow Andante and a Finale which aims more at grace and good humour than anything climatic. The recording is lively with a touch of glare at times.

Johannes Brahms was not a composer who showed much confidence early on in his career, at least as far as large-scale orchestral forms were concerned. Take for instance what we know to be his Piano Concerto No. 1, which premiered in 1859. This work began as a sonata for two pianos, and then Brahms considered developing it into a symphony. But the shadow of Beethoven's nine essays in the symphonic form dogged Brahms so much that his First Symphony didn't appear for almost two decades. It finally emerged into this turbulent and elongated D Minor concerto and, despite receiving a fairly frigid reception at its premiere, it is a work that has come to be seen as Brahms' first true large-scale orchestral masterpiece.

The two Serenades, Op. 11 and Op. 16, represented two of the earliest efforts by Johannes Brahms to write orchestral music. Recorded with Bernard Haitink at the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam with its own wonderful unique acoustic these serenades never sounded better. First of all, Haitink is supremely competent with a superb baton technique and an almost unmatched ability to balance an orchestra and shape a movement. Second of all, Haitink is a supremely tasteful conductor who never imposes his will on the music through his interpretations, but rather allows the interpretation to arise from the music.

This is the Schumann's Bicentennial year. There are many symphonic cycles to celebrate that, but very seldom we can find a truly great one along the whole of the 4 symphonies. Haitink's is one of these. Those are brilliant, solid and thrilling performances that show the mastery of maestro Haitink. Concertgebouw orchestra plays heavenly and sound by Philips is, one more time, a matter of admiration. Among cycles in modern and digital sound, this is one of the best choices.

All of Rachmaninov’s music - from his earliest student compositions to his final masterpieces – has been collected together for the first time on 32 CDs, in what is definitively the most complete and comprehensive edition of Rachmaninov’s works ever released.

The art of conducting was certainly imbued in Carlos Kleiber's whole persona and these magnificent performances of Beethoven's Fourth and Seventh symphonies find him on home ground with the excellent Concertgebouw Orchestra. Recorded in 1983, these concerts are a final testament to the art of great symphonic conducting and should definitely be in every serious music lover's collection.

"Leonard Bernstein succeeded superbly in conveying his own intellectually ferocious vision of what the Missa solemnis truly signifies. His 1978 Concertgebouw performance is one of the greatest utterances of Bernstein's Indian summer on the Yellow Label." (Classics Today.com)

Believed to have been composed between August 1775 and January 1777, the Concerto In E Flat Major for two pianos technically counts as being the tenth of Mozart's twenty-seven concertos, that huge and prodigious body that would set the standards for all piano concertos from Mozart's time forward. Although it is not performed with the same frequency as his later works (especially the final eight concertos, 20-27), this "Double" piano concerto, believed to have been composed by Mozart for performance by him and his sister Maria Anna ("Nannerl"), is nevertheless a fascinating experiment of Mozart's, one that requires a pair of solid keyboard virtuosos to do (and for the composer's Seventh piano concerto, you needed three soloists).

The titular character of Bellini’s Il pirata is the tenor, Gualtiero, but it is the soprano, Imogene, who leaves the most powerful impression, thanks above all to her lengthy and dramatic closing scena. Il pirata had fallen into obscurity before it was revived for Callas at La Scala in May 1958. She went on to make a studio recording of the final scene a few months later and early in 1959 starred in this concert performance at New York’s Carnegie Hall. Collaborating with one of her favourite conductors, Nicola Rescigno, she electrified the audience with singing of inimitable poetry and theatrical power.

This is a fine Testament release taken from the archives of Netherlands Radio and enshrines some magnificent Barbirolli performances in somewhat opaque sound. The Satie Gymnopedie's have a delicate and loving sound that reveal Sir John's deep and intrinsic love for the miniaturistic charm of these enchanting pieces. Britten's 'Sinfonia da Requiem' was another Barbirolli speciality and this is one of many recordings available. However it is intriguing to observe the special attention and alertness that the Concertgebouw players impart to the music that takes on an added grandeur. However it is the Dvořák Seventh that is the real highlight of the disc as it is a version to die for! Sir John handles the music with real imagery and heart-on-sleeve emotion that almost rivals Kertész and Sejna, my other preferred versions in this landmark work.

The passage of time hasn't dimmed the powerful impact of this outstanding performance. Haitink projects all the drama and emotional ambiguity without sacrificing symphonic cogency.

With one single reservation Haitink's account of Babiy Yar is superb. The reservation is that Marius Rintzler, although he has all the necessary blackness and gravity and is in amply sonforous voice, responds to the anger and the irony and the flaming denunciations of Yevtushenko's text with scarcely a trace of the histrionic fervour they cry out for. The excellent chorus, though, is very expressive and it makes up for a lot, as does the powerful and sustained drama of Haitink's direction.

Despite the fact that there are multiple recordings of Shostakovich's deeply moving Symphony No. 14, this rather old but remastered recording is unique in the quality of performance: Bernard Haitink conducts his Concertgebouw Orchestra and elected to use non-Slavic singers Julia Varady and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau who in turn sing the poems in their original languages rather than the Russian translations used in the original premiere. The effect is staggeringly beautiful and if one must choose a single recording of this symphony, this would be the one that captures the essence of Shostakovich's vision.