Igor Borisovich Markevitch was a Russian-born composer and conductor who studied and worked in Paris and became a naturalized Italian and French citizen in 1947 and 1982 respectively. He was commissioned in 1929 for a piano concerto by impresario Serge Diaghilev of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. Markevitch settled in Italy during World War II. After the war, he moved to Switzerland. He had an international conducting career from there.

The last three symphonies remain for many listeners the ultimate expression of musical romanticism. Their gorgeous tunes, luscious orchestration, and huge emotional range tempt many interpreters to extremes of musical excess– but not Igor Markevitch. These brilliantly played, exceptionally precise performances let the hysteria speak for itself, while focusing on the music's architectural strength. The results are uncommonly exciting, supple, and above all sensitive to the music's many beauties. Having withstood the test of time, and at two discs for the price of one, this might very well be a first choice for newcomers and collectors alike. Excellent recorded sound too.

Today’s personality-cult pianists could, if they chose, learn a tremendous amount from these performances. Clara Haskil’s 1960 Paris recordings of Mozart’s two minor-key piano concertos, Nos. 20 (D minor) and 24 (C minor), have patrician nobility with no scene-stealing heroics. Both performances, incidentally, have been widely circulated, appearing most recently in the “Great Pianists of the 20th Century” series. This leaves concertos 9 and 19, and some shrewdly judged Scarlatti sonatas still out in the cold, but somehow I doubt that this reissue will signal any wider rehabilitation of Haskil’s discographic legacy.

There are some very pleasant surprises here. Not all of this music is top-drawer Tchaikovsky, but the composer also wrote what can only be called very good "bad music." In other words, if something's lacking in melodic charm or formal sophistication, he usually hides it behind a higher-than-average orchestral excitement and hysteria quotient. Fatum is a perfect example: it's slow to get going, but before you know it it's slamming you through the roof on its way to a rousing conclusion, and your overwhelming impression is that you've had a very good time. This may be the weakest work on the disc–all of the others are very good, and a bunch are masterpieces, so if you want all of the Tchaikovsky tone poems in one bargain set, this is a good pick.