…[O]utstanding…with Perahia's playing wonderfully refreshing in the Andante and a superb response from the four wind soloists… Clearly all the players are enjoying this rewarding music.

In 1956, Bernard Haitink conducted the Concertgebouworkest for the first time and together they would play more than 1,500 concerts across the globe. Besides his modesty, his humanity, his musical taste, and his honesty to the music, three words come to mind when one thinks of Haitink and his orchestra: Sound, Trust and Magic. Jörgen van Rijen, Principal trombone of the Concertgebouworkest, said at a memorial concert in February this year, “Every time with him [Haitink] the orchestra sounded warmer, deeper and richer, from the first moment he started to rehearse. How he did that is difficult to tell … he always gave us musicians the feeling he trusted you, that he was there to help, not to interfere.”

I continue to find the whole of Perahia's recording stimulating and fresh. I said in my first review that the freshness of a still quite youthful player is there. With never a hint of gratuitous agitation, the sense of an invigorating energy being released in the act of performance comes across strongly; and I'm sure Beethoven would have loved it. As Perahia with the wind his sails carries you along—in the finale of the Appassionata above all—his virtuosity is special, electrifying in effect, transcendental, brilliantly illuminating.

Murray Perahia's account of the Grieg Concerto is utterly absorbing. The playing is brilliant, but the pianist's approach–more Chopinesque than Lisztian–keeps that brilliance at the service of larger expressive goals. The result is a performance aglow with understated intensity, one in which the prevalent feeling is often melancholy, at times even bleak. Sir Colin Davis draws a wonderfully refined accompaniment from the Bavarian orchestra in this live reading of the score. The recording, from Munich's Philharmonic Hall, is excellent and effectively captures the beautiful tone Perahia coaxes from his piano.

This Chopin recital represents Murray Perahia's return to the Sony studios after a two-year absence due to serious injury. So may I start by saying that this is surely the greatest, certainly the richest, of all his many and exemplary recordings. Once again his performances are graced with rare and classic attributes and now, to supreme clarity, tonal elegance and musical perspective, he adds an even stronger poetic profile, a surer sense of the inflammatory rhetoric underpinning Chopin's surface equilibrium. In other words the vividness and immediacy are as remarkable as the finesse. And here, arguably, is the oblique but telling influence of Horowitz who Perahia befriended during the last months of the old wizard's life.

Soloist-conducted piano concertos can sometimes mean compromise, even chaos…but not in this case. Indeed, the playing of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields under Murray Perahia is even sprightlier than on a rival EMI recording of the same repertoire where Sir Neville Marriner conducts and Andrei Gavrilov plays the keyboard part. As soloist, Perahia is his usual stylish, discreet and pianistically refined self. He takes the D minor Concerto’s opening at a fair lick, a hot-foot sprinter embellishing the line with taste and affecting a little ritardando at 3'21 (just as the mood momentarily brightens) a la Edwin Fischer.

These three piano concertos are constructed from sonatas by J C Bach. Mozart's poetic lightness of touch he later developed to a very high standard as yet to materialize. Yet they are delightful pieces without the emotion and drama of concertos to come. The disc also features Johann Samuel Schrother's piano concerto in C major, Op. 3 no. 3 a contempary of Mozart. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote the concerto's cadenzas.

Radu Lupu and Murray Perahia should have recorded all of Mozart's piano music for four hands, which includes several neglected masterpieces. This disc reflects their ideal partnership, two artists of great sensitivity collaborating in performances that feature constant interplay of parts, alertness to each other's work, and superb playing as individuals. The Concerto for Two Pianos ripples along without a care in the world, just as it should, and the English Chamber Orchestra doesn't seem to care that nobody is conducting it. The pieces without orchestra are a bit less significant (as is the Concerto for Three Pianos), but the playing is so beautiful you won't care.

This is one of those few "absolutely perfect" works of art or nature one comes across in one's liftime. It's like Michelangelo's "David" or the best moonrise you've ever seen over a desert mountain. It's shocking, it's so good. It will leave you overwhelmed. I've never heard any other recording of Chopin come anywhere close to being as magic as this. Anyone who can do this kind of sorcery, if only once, should be showered with garlands and their name should be praised for centuries.

Murray Perahia is a master interpreter of Beethoven. Here are his recordings of three Piano Sonatas that prompted the Penguin Guide to proclaim Perhaia “an authoritative and sensitive interpreter of Beethoven”. His release has long been awaited after almost 30 years of the original LP release. The results are of predictable excelency,as most of Perahia"s recordings: Taste,great technique and an ever improving maturity.

This disc received the 1998 Cannes Classical Music Awards for "Record of the Year" and "Best Instrumental Solo or Chamber Performance - 17th/18th Centuries." It also received the 1997 Gramophone magazine award for "Best Instrumental Recording," was Gramophone's "Recording of the Month" for May 1997, and was nominated for the 1998 Grammy Award for "Best Instrumental Soloist Performance (without Orchestra)."

Murray Perahia's piano playing, like the great Mozart himself, will never go out of style. (Murray's unfortunate hairstyle on the cover, however, is an entirely different matter!) This is because Perahia's refreshingly direct, straightforward style will always be fashionable. Let the others bang away, speed up the tempo or add all their esoteric flourishes, I'll take Perahia's simplicity any day. On this early digital recording from 1983, the pianist again shines on Mozart's second-to-last Piano Concerto, the 26th, nicknamed the "Coronation" since it was written in honor of King Leopold II's momentous event.

A truly beautiful and unique tracklist with rarities including Víkingur Ólafsson’s new arrangement for piano of a Bach Cantata, rare transcriptions for guitar, for mandolin and even String Quartet; alongside familiar Bach masterpieces, all played by the world’s greatest classical artists, curated and presented Deutsche Grammophon.

Listen to the music first! Perahia's booklet essay is a dry musicological treatise concerned with technical aspects of Bach's music. His performance, on the other hand, is filled with life and excitement. The kind of overt virtuosity heard in some of these variations has been a rarity in Perahia's recordings, but it shows how wide a range he intends to cover in his playing of this masterpiece. Unlike Glenn Gould, who is most listeners' touchstone for piano performances of the Goldbergs, Perahia takes Bach's necessary repeats and uses them as occasions for adventure, varying not only the emphases, but also the actual notes.

These two works form a perfect, contrasting pairing of the two most sublime piano compositions for four hands in existence: the Mozart ineffably sunny yet majestic, in a brilliant D major, the Schubert Fantasia achingly melancholy and beautiful, played by two musicians who are characterised by expressive understatement. In my experience, Lupu has since, in later years, become inclined to give detached, almost indifferent performances which verge on the remote, whereas here he and Perahia play with both strength and delicacy without ever giving in to excessive rubato or cheap, overt emotionalism.