Elgar’s Violin Concerto has a certain mystique about it independent of the knee-jerk obeisance it has received in the British press. It probably is the longest and most difficult of all Romantic violin concertos, requiring not just great technical facility but great concentration from the soloist and a real partnership of equals with the orchestra. And like all of Elgar’s large orchestral works, it is extremely episodic in construction and liable to fall apart if not handled with a compelling sense of the long line. In reviewing the score while listening to this excellent performance, I was struck by just how fussy Elgar’s indications often are: the constant accelerandos and ritards, and the minute (and impractical) dynamic indications that ask more questions than they sometimes answer. No version, least of all the composer’s own, even attempts to realize them all: it would be impossible without italicizing and sectionalizing the work to death.

This concert film captures legendary violinist Yehudi Menuhin performing concertos by such luminaries as Mozart, Beethoven, and Bruch.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Anyone who loves twentieth century music, who loves English music, or who just plain loves music will love this collection of the music of Michael Tippett. Culled from previously issued but long out-of-print Philips, London, Argo, and l'Oiseau-Lyre LPs, most of these recordings were world premieres made in close consultation with the composer and in the hands of conductors Colin Davis, Georg Solti, Neville Marriner, pianist Paul Crossley, and the Lindsay String Quartet, they receive what can fairly be described as definitive performances. From the ecstatic lyricism of the Suite for Double String Orchestra of 1939 through the luminous vitality of the First Symphony of 1945, the radiant sensuality of the Ritual Dances of 1955, the blues-based modernism of the Third Symphony of 1972, to the glistening transcendentalism of the Fourth Symphony of 1977, Tippett's unique fusion of line, drive, color, and form is performed throughout with passionate dedication and absolute faith in the music's greatness.

Diana Damrau and Angelika Kirchschlager star in the acclaimed 2008 production of Humperdinck's famous fairytale opera, in the company of two of Britain's most revered musical figures: Thomas Allen, playing the role of the Father, and the legendary conductor Colin Davis. Directors Patrice Caurier and Moshe Leiser combine their characteristic wit and a dash of deliciously dark comedy with the opera's fairytale charm. Humperdinck's music mixes catchy folk-like songs with sumptuous instrumental colour, making the result as tunefully approachable, musically memorable and visually delightful as opera gets. Filmed in High Definition and recorded in full Surround Sound.

This is a delightful recording from a conductor more closely allied than any other to Berlioz's music. With Berlioz the devil is always in the detail; he was an extraordinary orchestrator and capable of writing unidiomatically for instruments–especially the woodwinds–in order to get exactly the sound he wanted. Or rather, sounds, for the whole texture is made up of many layers. Davis understands this as if by instinct, and draws some beautiful playing from the instrumentalists without ever losing sight of the whole picture. It has been said that the French style of phrasing is all foreplay and no climax: the singers bring this teasing quality to their long, flowing lines but with a charmingly English home-counties blush too. Elsie Moris's light tone is a perfect match for Peter Pears' cool, silvery voice in this respect - and the choir too makes a good full sound without ever getting too heavy. The two discs also include some other gems from the pen of this most idiosyncratic of composers.

At the ripe old age of 19 Mozart wrote five violin concertos, and they represent his coming of age as a composer of orchestral music. From here on, it's basically one masterpiece after another. Though not difficult works, technically speaking, they partake in full measure of Mozart's uniquely sensual brand of melody. That means that successful performances must know how to spin out a singing musical line, while at the same time making the most of the rare opportunities for soloistic display. Taste and musicianship are more important qualities than virtuosity, and that makes these pieces ideal vehicles for Arthur Grumiaux's aristocratic temperament and technical polish.

These two popular concertos have for many years been coupled on LP and CD, and ever since their initial release in 1971, the performances on this CD have been consistently rated as outstanding. This recording is one of a few to have achieved true classic status, of the stature (amongbrconcerto recordings) of Jacqueline du Pre's Elgar Cello Concerto, and Michelangeli's Ravel G major and Rachmaninov Fourth Piano Concertos.brThe young Stephen Bishop (now known as Stephen Kovacevich) was at the height of his considerable powers, and these performances of two of the best-loved piano concertos have hardly been equalled ever since they were made almost 50 years ago.

Though it`s hardly uncommon for a musician to be performing and recording at age 85, it`s difficult to think of many octogenarian performers who continue to explore new paths. Arrau is the wonderful exception, as his current Beethoven cycle for Philips has indicated time and again. This recording of the first two piano concertos offers further proof, for here Arrau turns in performances that force us to reconsider these works. We may be accustomed to hearing the First Concerto played with lightness and Mozartean elegance, but Arrau goes well beyond this cliche. His account of the first movement has a depth and mystery it is rarely accorded.

The security of Arrau's technique, the continuing fullness of tone and the fine gradations of touch, is nothing less than astonishing. So too is the mature accommodation he has come to with Beethoven's endlessly problematic C minor Concerto. Arrau's earliest recording of the concerto, with Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1947, may have been more brilliant (though, from the orchestra's point of view, more slapdash) but this long-pondered, lovingly evolved reading takes us much closer to the idealizing centre of Beethoven's visionary world; and does so, incidentally, in a way that could not be approached in 1000 years by the authenticity merchants with their pygmy instruments and tedious lists of contemporary metronome markings.

”… However, not only is Davis more in sympathy with Arrau's majestic approach, he's got the incomparable Staatskapelle Dresden backing him up. The result is a Fourth Concerto for the ages: just listen to Arrau's silky-toned opening, the soft hush of the violin section's entrance leading up to the thrilling subsequent crescendo. And the slow movement! Words can't do it justice, nor can they capture the finale's wonderful sense of vigor within repose.”

Arrau's "Emperor" reveals more angst in the first movement development than most other performances, giving the whole work an added depth of feeling. Some listeners may prefer greater general liveliness, especially in the finale, but I find the approach wholly convincing in scale and so beautifully executed as to silence criticism. Technically speaking, these performances always sounded marvelous, and they still do. Unforgettably grand.

Mozart’s “Idomeneo” is a lyrical tragedy and is considered Mozart’s greatest choral opera. It is composed in the baroque tradition of the opera seria; however, Mozart excels at giving it new traits and forms. He also exerted his influence on the dramaturgy, shortened parts to increase their effect, increased the suspense with a dense use of instruments and wrote the marvellous ballet music.

…To my ears she is at her creamy, relaxed best, evincing no strain at all. Her trill is firmly in place, her divisions clean, her tone even through its range and her arcing phrases soar serenely above the stave. This selection encompasses both dreamy, long-breathed arias and impassioned pyrotechnics…

Tout le monde devrait connaitre certaines oeuvres classiques. Les requiems de Mozart ou de de Saint Sens en font parti, à mes yeux.