An unrivalled collection of lesser-known 20th-century piano concertos in both Romantic and modern styles, in definitive recordings by Dutch artists. This survey of Dutch piano concertos actually begins in 1886, with the A minor work by Carl Smulders (1863-1934). Smulders sidesteps convention by opening not with a grand gesture but a slow, expectant build-up, breaking the template for A minor piano concertos established first by Schumann and then Grieg. The piano writing itself has a lyrically Griegian flavour, however, which Ivo Janssen brings out in this 1994 recording.

The 32 Piano Sonatas by Ludwig van Beethoven are often referred to as the ‘New Testament’ of the keyboard literature, following on the ‘Old Testament’ of J.S. Bach's 48 preludes and fugues in the Well-Tempered Clavier. Composed over a period of almost three decades, from 1795 to 1822, the sonatas constitute a fascinating panorama of an artistic career which underwent numerous changes – not to say upheavals – but nevertheless remained remarkably consistent.

Ronald Brautigam presents two of Franz Schubert’s late masterpieces, the Sonatas D 959 and D 960. They are played here on a fortepiano built by Paul McNulty after an instrument from around 1819 by the Viennese instrument maker Conrad Graf and presumably similar to the instrument on which Schubert composed. Although it is tempting to see Schubert’s final works as the testament of a doomed artist who feels his end is nearing, the reality is quite different: the composer displayed vitality, optimism and a prodigious capacity for work. His last two sonatas also show that he had reached a new level, having successfully emancipated himself from the Beethovenian model.

Six years after their acclaimed disc devoted to Mendelssohn's works for cello and piano, Christian Poltera and Ronald Brautigam now tackle the two cello sonatas by Johannes Brahms, two central works in the repertoire, unquestionably the most important since those by Beethoven. The First Cello Sonata was composed between 1862 and 1865 when Brahms was in his thirties. He seemed intent on showcasing the lyricism of an instrument that is often compared to the human voice.

In 1819 the Viennese music publisher and composer Anton Diabelli sent a short waltz to a long list of composers. These included Schubert, Hummel, a very young Franz Liszt and, as the most prominent composer of the time, naturally Beethoven. Diabelli was proposing to compile an anthology of variations on his own waltz, one from each composer. Beethoven responded in a characteristic manner: first there was nothing, and then there was nothing … and then, in 1823, there was an entire, and monumental, set of no less than thirty-three variations.

Ludwig van Beethoven’s first printed work was a set of variations – published in 1783 when he was only twelve years old – and his final keyboard composition was the massive set of thirty-three variations on a theme by Anton Diabelli, composed almost four decades later. Not counting the several movements in variation form included in the sonatas, his twenty-one sets of piano variations thus trace a line of development in his production, parallel to those formed by the 32 piano sonatas or the 16 string quartets.

If the 32 piano sonatas and the great works in variation form (Eroica, Diabelli) form the weightiest part of Beethoven's legacy to pianists and lovers of piano music, they by no means tell the full story. In his highly acclaimed survey of the complete music for solo piano, Ronald Brautigam has previously recorded the early, unnumbered sonatas, the Bagatelles and the earlier sets of variations. He now treats us to a disc of rondos and piano pieces, spanning from one of the very earliest surviving works – a Rondo in C major composed by a 13-year old Beethoven – to what is often referred to as the composer's ‘Last Musical Thought’, an Andante maestoso in C major.

Ronald Brautigam performs some of Franz Schubert’s most profound and beloved works: the eight Impromptus. Schubert’s name has become closely associated with this genre, often characterized by a lyrical melody and a free-flowing structure, with a sense of spontaneity. With it, Schubert seems to have found an ideal setting for the expression of his genius.

If not the most adventurous of composers, and in his later years over-conservative, Gade in his youth certainly had his moments. his inventiveness is evident in all four symphonies presented here, albeit in very different ways. The Sixth (1856-7) is perhaps the most perfect, Classical in design although with a minatory feel suggestive at times of middle-period Haydn. If it stays within its own clearly defined harmonic and stylistic limits, the First, Third and Fifth do not.

Composed in 1786, the Piano Concertos Nos 24 in C minor and 25 in C major are regarded as two of Mozart's finest achievements in the genre. Both are large-scale works, with durations of more than 25 minutes each – the C major concerto is in fact one of the most expansive of all classical piano concertos, rivalling Beethoven’s fifth concerto. Their grandeur immediately made them popular fare in the concert hall – Mendelssohn, for instance, had No.24 in his repertoire through the 1820s and 1830s – and new recordings appear regularly. It is nevertheless relatively rare to hear them performed on original instruments and with orchestral forces corresponding to what Mozart himself would have been familiar with.

The sixth disc in this highly acclaimed series combine two works in which Mozart's powers as an orchestrator come to the fore. Concerto No. 18 in B flat major, K 456, is sometimes referred to as one of the composers military concertos on the basis of the march-like main theme of the first movement. But more striking is the variety of ways that Mozart employs the various groups of instruments: strings, wind instruments and, of course, the piano. This aspect certainly didn't pass unnoticed by a listener as initiated as Mozart's father Leopold: in a letter to his daughter Nannerl he described how his enjoyment of the orchestral interplay had brought tears to his eyes.

Ronald Brautigam's piano playing throughout the concertos for piano and orchestra has all the vitality, expression and nimble finger work you would want. Conductor Lev Markiz keeps his players in check during the soloist's star-turns yet responds with verve when required.

Born in the vicinity of Cologne, only two years after and some sixty km distant from Beethoven, Johann Wilhelm Wilms was once a musical force to be reckoned with. In Amsterdam, where he lived from the age of 19, his music was actually performed more frequently than Beethoven’s at one period, and his orchestral works were played in such musical centres as Leipzig. Besides chamber music and solo sonatas, Wilms composed several symphonies and concertos, among them piano concertos for his own use.

Theme and variations’ is one form that Beethoven employed throughout his career. He wrote his first surviving set while still a boy in Bonn and finished the last one some forty years later – a statistical fact that becomes interesting when one considers the inherent tension between the composer’s dramatic style and the static and decorative nature of the form itself. Towards the end of the 18th century variation form was generally used for entertaining elaborations on popular tunes but Beethoven, being Beethoven, changed the ground rules radically. For a while he followed the convention – or shrewd marketing strategy – of using existing melodies from operas or ballets, but often these would almost immediately undergo such profound transformations that he might as well have used an unknown theme. As a consequence it is understandable that Beethoven’s variations were often considered much too learned, far too eccentric and, by some, even offensive.