It makes an ideal coupling having the Symphony No. 4 alongside the ballet score from which Prokofiev drew most of the material. The 1947 revision of the symphony, now generally preferred, is richer in both structure and instrumentation. Kuchar’s readings are both powerful and idiomatic, with crisply disciplined playing from the Ukraine Orchestra bringing home the weight and violence of much of the writing. These are performances to mach and eve outshine current rivals at whatever price; the Naxos recording is satisfying full-bodied, not least in vivid brass and percussion sounds, with the piano both clear and well integrated in the Symphony.

These exceptionally beautiful reappraisals are likely to divide listeners. Bruno Philippe’s command of the instrument can scarcely be gainsaid – his tone is simply glorious – but prizing lyricism and restraint over drama in late Prokofiev is not without risks…There’s Mendelssohnian delicacy and poise in the coupling too, regular collaborator Tanguy de Williencourt offering tactful rather than clangorous support.

For her third disc, the young Korean violinist Sueye Park has explored the repertoire for solo violin, and chosen works spanning exactly 100 hundred years – from Max Reger’s Prelude and Fugue from 1909 to Penderecki’s Capriccio, composed in 2008. Framing the 20th century, the programme starts as a relay race of famous violinist-composers; Reger dedicating his piece to Kreisler, who dedicated his Recitativo and Scherzo-Caprice to Ysaÿe, who wrote his Sonata No. 6 for the Spanish virtuoso Manuel Quiroga. In this series of names, that of Richard Strauss may come as a surprise, but his little-known Daphne-Etüde from 1945 is also dedicated to a violinist – his young grandson.

Rather than play any single complete suite (of the three) that Prokofiev extracted from the complete ballet, Myung-Whun Chung makes his own selection of numbers, roughly following the plot line and including music representative of all the major characters. Although some other collections offer more music, this hour of Romeo and Juliet makes a satisfying presentation on its own. What makes the performance special is the spectacular playing of the Dutch orchestra. Frankly, it's never been done better. From the whiplash virtuosity of the violins to the bite of the trombones and the firm thud of the bass drum, this is the sound the composer must have dreamed of.

A new enlightening box of mostly live and radio recordings by the intellectual among the pianists: Pietro Scarpini. ""A sterling achievement. For me, the whole series has been a voyage of discovery […] In terms of production quality and presentation. The Pietro Scarpini Edition gets my wholehearted recommendation for resuscitating the memory of a long-forgotten artist. (MusicWeb) Pietro Scarpini was called ""a pianist of prodigious capacities"" by New York Times critic Olin Downes after the performance of the Prokofiev 2nd concerto. Though he studied conducting at the Accademia di Santa Cecilia in Rome, as well as composition with Casella, to whom the Busoni Op 54 is dedicated, and with Respighi, it is as a pianist that realized his ultimate talent. Scarpini was a rare combination: a highly intellectual pianist with a virtuoso technique. He was a dignified and solitary person with a serious approach to music, single-mindedly following the course of his artistic convictions without compromise.

26 year-old Denis Kozhukhin arrives on the recording scene fully-fledged, like Athena springing from the head of Zeus. Intellect is central: I’ve never heard so much revelatory detail in Prokofiev’s triptych of dark and painful masterpieces. Kozhukhin has a way of bringing out the detail of the inner parts, or even a usually inconsequential-seeming bass line, that highlights the drama instead of distracting from it; there’s so much internal play in the droll march-scherzo of the Sixth Sonata, so much genius revealed about the way Prokofiev elaborates or dislocates the minuet theme at the heart of the Eighth. The touch is one that the composer-pianist would probably applaud: clear rather than dry, recorded with superb presence and ringing treble, bringing in the sustaining pedal with mesmerising care only to nuance the more pensive themes.

Is Prokofiev's Scythian Suite a deliberate parody of Stravinsky's La sacra du printemps? On the basis of Valery Gergiev's recording of it, yes, it is. Gergiev's interpretation is comic and a big, brutal slapstick Stravinsky with bone-crushing percussion and brain-rattling brass, with squealing winds and skittering strings. Gergiev's rhythms in "The Enemy God" and the "Dance of the Black Spirits" have the subtlety of a pie in the face and his colors in "Night and in Procession of the Sun" have the nuance of a pratfall. Gergiev's interpretation is not only the funniest ever recorded, it is also the most accurate representation of the score and the best ever recorded.

André Previn was always a great conductor of Russian repertoire and was especially known for his recordings of Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninov and Prokofiev. His 1973 recording of the Rachmaninov “Second Symphony” was important in establishing that work in the central repertoire and increasing the reputation of the composer himself. These are his mid-1970’s recordings with the London Symphony Orchestra recorded just one and four years after the Rachmaninov. He re-recorded all three works between Philips and Telarc in the late 1980’s with the Los Angeles Philharmonic but this recording is still his best.

Paris is Hilary Hahn’s comeback project after her one-year sabbatical. Now Hilary is back with her first album on Deutsche Grammophon in five years.

Anticipating the 50th anniversary of Orpheus Chamber Orchestra in 2022, we present their complete recordings on DG. The intriguing sound culture of Orpheus, especially of the string section, is often explained as a result of the cooperative mindset of the orchestra and its artistic process of rehearsing.

This CD's title, Messe Noire, and its dark cover art may mislead some into thinking this album is filled with evil, forbidden things; but the only selection that suggests the diabolical is Alexander Scriabin's macabre Sonata No. 9, "Black Mass," and it comes at the very end, after Igor Stravinsky's light, neo-Classical Serenade in A, Dmitry Shostakovich's sardonic Sonata No. 2, and Sergey Prokofiev's witty but brutal knuckle-buster, the Sonata No. 7, which all have their dark moments, certainly, but not the same sinister mood found in Scriabin. If pianist Aleksei Lubimov's aim in bringing these Russian masterworks together points to some other unifying idea – perhaps the significance of the piano in these composers' thinking – then some other title might have been more helpful. As it is, though, this album seems most unified in Lubimov's vigorous style of playing, brittle execution, and emphasis on the piano's percussive sonorities, evident in each performance. This spiky approach works best in Prokofiev's sonata, and fairly well in Shostakovich's and Stravinsky's pieces; but it seems too sterile in Scriabin's music, which needs more languor and sensuous writhing than clarity or crispness.