A true ‘apotheosis of the dance’ in the words of Richard Wagner, Beethoven’s Seventh has enjoyed perennial popularity ever since its premiere - unlike his sole ballet, The Creatures of Prometheus, of which only the overture has remained (more or less) familiar to us. To offer a new version of a key work in Beethoven’s corpus while reviving the complete version of one of his most unjustly forgotten masterpieces: such is the challenge brilliantly taken up by the musicians of the Freiburger Barockorchester, under the direction of their Konzertmeister Gottfried von der Goltz. © harmonia mundi

The late Beethoven recordings of pianist Mitsuko Uchida have been career makers, and it is cause for celebration that she has capped them with the 33 Variations on a Waltz by Diabelli, Op. 120, a work that perhaps poses deeper interpretive challenges than any of the late sonatas. The Variations often show a kind of rough humor, and a performer may pick up on that, or the player may deemphasize the humor and seek out the epic qualities of the Piano Sonata No. 30 in E major, Op. 109, and Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor, Op. 111. Uchida does neither. The outlines of her usual style, high-contrast and a bit dry, are apparent, but she does not let them dominate her reading. What Uchida realizes is that the abrupt transition from humor to the deepest existential ruminations is part and parcel of Beethoven's late style, and she works to hone the particular character of each Beethoven variation. Her left hand, as usual, is strikingly powerful, and this brings out many striking details (consider the stirring variation 16). The trio of slow minor variations toward the end are given great seriousness but are not in the least overwrought; Uchida achieves an elusive Olympian tone through the final variations. There is much more to experience here, for each variation is fully thought out, but suffice it to say that this is one of the great performances of the Diabelli Variations.© TiVo

Together with the Berlin-based Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester (DSO) Mari Kodama and her husband Kent Nagano have now completed the recording of all of Beethoven's piano concertos by jumping, as it were, back in time twice: the last element of this recording series that has spanned more than 13 years was Beethoven's concerto "number nought" (WoO 4) – personally edited by Mari Kodama from the autograph score. The original manuscript of this piano concerto is kept at the State Library in Berlin. This is not a completed score, because there is no orchestration. That said, Beethoven annotated the short score, especially in the first two movements, with indications as to which instrument was to play which part. The orchestra score which is available today was written in the early twentieth century based on those annotations. The only problem is: "Today, armed with the knowledge we now have acquired about the young Beethoven, we would perform this concerto quite differently in places," explain Mari Kodama and Kent Nagano in unison. They therefore present a very personal adaptation that emerged during rehearsal with the orchestra and at the recording sessions, and which reflects Kodama's and Nagano's individual image of Beethoven. They aim to make audible the exuberant freshness and urgent sense of awakening in the young, almost childlike Beethoven's writing shortly before his artistic powers were to burst forth, the joie de vivre and vital energy in a style that owes something to the playfulness of both Haydn and Mozart. That is Mari Kodama's intention, and she plays it in precisely such a versatile manner. Combined with the classical canon of the piano concertos nos. 1–5, the resulting comprehensive edition is complemented by the Triple Concerto for piano, violin and cello op. 56, the Rondo WoO 6 and the Eroica Variations op. 35, offering insight into the artist's longstanding involvement with her musical companion Ludwig van Beethoven. And the recordings of his works seem to lead the listener through the composer's life. "If you play all of them, it is like accompanying Beethoven on a journey through his life," explains Mari Kodama, and Kent Nagano adds: "You acknowledge the musical genius and at the same time you recognise the development of European music, because Beethoven was undoubtedly its pioneer." He led the way in changing the structure, form and harmony of music, just as there was an equally radical shift in the world around him; after the French Revolution society and business and the incipient industrial revolution began to alter the way people lived. "He is and remains an optimist, someone who can do no other than believe in what he wishes to communicate to us through his music," explains Kodama. She says this helps her. The fact that she herself is an optimist can partly be attributed to Beethoven. Kodama, Nagano and the DSO – one might imagine them almost as a trio where all the musicians have blind faith in each other and are therefore able to produce a degree of musical intensity that brings the young Beethoven back to life. © Berlin Classics

Supraphon made these recordings for Nippon Columbia within a short timeframe, from June 1983 to April 1984, at the Rudolfinum in Prague. They capture the mature ensemble when it included the pianist Josef Hála, who in 1980 had replaced Jan Panenka. The trio’s sound was dominated by the strings, primarily the violin of Josef Suk, who also defined the interpretation principles. The singularity of the ensemble and their recordings alike rests in infallible technique, sonic refinement, admirable interplay and profound musicality devoid of any showboating. © Supraphon

Originally issued on separate LPs in the late '60s, Quartetto Italiano's legendary recordings of Ludwig van Beethoven's late string quartets occupied a prestigious place in Philips' catalog and fully warranted reissue on CD for their technical acumen, intellectual clarity, and expressive depth. All serious string quartets aspire to play these monumental works, which have proved to be more influential than any others in their genre; it's fair to say that most groups wish their performances could at least be equal to Quartetto Italiano's, both in terms of staying power and sublime musicality. It's difficult to choose one opus over another, since each has a distinctive character that demonstrates Beethoven's extremely wide range of moods, and Quartetto Italiano's interpretations are magnificent across the boards, without a single low point. Philips' ADD sound is possibly the only sticking point, because these recordings sound a little cool and muted in comparison with contemporary digital recordings, and listeners who are accustomed to greater resonance and verisimilitude might find this set to be a little flat and veiled. Yet virtually all traces of analog hiss have been removed, and the practiced listener will still be able to appreciate the profundities of the music despite the slightly shallow reproduction.© TiVo

The pianist, composer, producer and renaissance musician Jeroen van Veen has played many concerts with both his wife Sandra and his brother Maarten, and has recorded with both of them for Brilliant Classics. The present compilation brings together a unique sequence of masterpieces for the genre in live and studio performances, made between 1992 and 2008, and given by the brothers as Piano Duo Van Veen. This pocket history of the piano duo opens – as it must – with the F minor Fantasy of Schubert. All elements of Schubert's art can be found in the Fantasy: his gift for a sublime, gently unfolding melody; melancholy harmonic turns from major to minor; high drama within a spacious symphonic design; intricate counterpoint in the finale. Less well known but no less accomplished in its way is the set of Beethoven variations by Camille Saint-Saëns, a polished transformation of a minuet theme. This 1992 studio recording concludes with a pair of 20th-century pieces which capitalise on the energy and momentum of the piano duo genre as a whole: La valse of Ravel and the Paganini Variations of Lutoslawski, which never fail to raise the pulse and receive here barnstorming performances. The adrenaline level increases further with a sequence of live performances, opening with Rachmaninoff’s gorgeous Russian Rhapsody and continuing with The Rite of Spring in the version which Stravinsky first performed with his friends in Paris prior to the ballet’s notorious public premiere in 1911. In his Monologue of 1964, Zimmermann developed the thread of his Dialogue for Two Pianos and Orchestra with a collage technique which quotes from Bach, Mozart and Beethoven in which the two pianists muse almost to themselves at times. Rounding off this collection in epic style is the apotheosis of Messiaen’s Visions de l’Amen. © Brilliant Classics

From the darkness of night emerges day, the cycle of nature tracing the journey of the soul. The finely calibrated emotions of Orlande de Lassus’s song La nuit froide et sombre, and of his near-contemporary John Dowland’s Come, heavy sleep, are made newly vivid in transcriptions by the Castalian String Quartet, framing a programme which exists both inside and beyond time. Profound meditations on immortality and worldliness from Beethoven and Thomas Adès receive readings of extraordinary intensity, the Quartet’s burnished tone and astounding interconnectedness making this a debut that demands to be heard. © Delphian Records

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These are hardly the Hagen Quartett's first recordings of Beethoven's quartets. The group made its first Beethoven recordings back in 1997 with the Fugue for String Quartet, Op. 137, and the original version of Opus 18/6 for DG's Complete Beethoven Edition. But those early recordings, while breathtakingly good, cannot compare with later recordings of Beethoven's canonical quartets, climaxing with this coupling of Opus 127 and Opus 132, except in the sense that the same excellent ensemble made all of them. The quick intelligence, pointed ensemble, lean sonority, and powerful expressivity that have characterized all of the Hagen Quartett's recordings is all once again plentifully in evidence here, but there is something more in these performances, something clearer and stronger and more luminous. The Hagen has always responded forcefully to challenges -- recall its earlier Janácek and Webern recordings -- and here the challenges are immensely high. To falter in the empyrean realms of Beethoven's late quartets -- as the Budapest, Guarneri, and Emerson quartets know -- is to fumble badly. But the Hagen Quartett willingly goes with Beethoven's music down into the profoundest depths of humanity in the Adagio, ma non troppo e molto cantabile of Opus 127 and up into the celestial heights of spirituality of the "Heiliger Dankgesang" of Opus 132. And they do it by being entirely themselves. The clarity of intelligence, the lucidity of ensemble, the transparency of sonority, and, finally, the intensity of expression are what make these performances so wholly and uniquely the work of the Hagen Quartett. These are surely the best recordings of the works since the Alban Berg Quartet's second recordings and among the very best recordings of the work ever made, standing alongside those of the the Berg, the Végh, and the Italiano. Deutsche Grammophon's sound is vivid and translucent.© TiVo

Unfortunately no, dear reader, there is no such thing as a cycle of “24 Preludes” by Rachmaninoff; however there are indeed 24 Preludes: a collection of ten Op. 23 from 1903, 13 other Op. 32 from 1910 and one isolated Prelude from the Morceaux de fantaisie Op. 3 (Fantasy Pieces) from 1893. In total: 24 Preludes, in which as a simple count shows Rachmaninoff − much like Chopin and of course Bach − illustrated all major and minor tones. Deliberately random, or the involuntary drive to create a reasonably coherent cycle? Contrary to his two illustrious predecessors, Rachmaninoff didn’t order his Preludes according to a specific tonal plan: the musician’s fantasy develops bit by bit. Nikolai Lugansky – described by the famous magazine Gramophone as “the most innovative and transcendent interpreter of all” (so much for the others…), truly an extraordinarily deep and polyvalent pianist – decided to present the Preludes in the order prescribed by partitions, rather than reorganising them according to some hypothetical tonal logic, without knowing if Rachmaninoff would even have recommended or even considered it, particularly as the constant alternation of moods, independently of any tonal consideration, gives the piece a sense of perfect coherence. Finally it’s worth mentioning that Lugansky offers a very “original” interpretation of this divine music, which may feel like a re-discovery to some listeners. © SM/Qobuz

To hear pianist Francesco Piemontesi tell it, he waited until middle age to attempt the Liszt Transcendental Etudes, even though these works are often programmed by hotshot young pianists intent on displaying their technical mastery. What Piemontesi gets is that Liszt's most difficult works have technical depths that are still achieved by only a few. A piece like "Scarbo," from Ravel's Gaspard de la nuit, was at the edge of the technically possible when it was written, but now any competent conservatory graduate can play it. The Transcendental Etudes and the Liszt Piano Sonata in B minor are different. A good performance is quite possible, but great ones that evoke the spell in which Liszt held his audiences are rarer. The latter is what the music gets here from Piemontesi. He is strong throughout, but it is in the dense virtuosic passages, with sheets of sound issuing from his piano, unfortunately unidentified in the booklet, that leave the listener amazed. Sample "Mazeppa" from the Etudes or the fugal treatment of the main sonata material for an idea; those sheets of sound never lose their individual notes. Piemontesi is hardly less effective in the slower passages, which have a kind of majesty. He records on home ground at the Auditorio Stelio Molo in Lugano, and it is an appropriate venue for his remarkable achievement.© James Manheim /TiVo

Marc-André Hamelin, by general acclaim, one of the great virtuosos of the day, here attempts to recapture the compositional as well as technical spirit of the pianistic giants of the past. Liszt, of course, was a pianist-composer, but he was not the only one. Hamelin issued an album of his own etudes in 2010, but in these "New Piano Works," mostly composed during the 2010s, he is even more adventurous. Many of these works are variations of one kind or another, and Hamelin starts off with his own Variations on a Theme of Paganini, previously essayed by Liszt, Rachmaninov, and several others. These variations introduce not only the usual high level of virtuosity but also the eclectic range of references in most of these works; he quotes Rachmaninov's set and also alludes to Alkan, Chopin, Brahms, and others. The variation form is ideal for Hamelin's project, for he can drop in quotations and allusions the same as a 19th century virtuoso would. His Variations diabellique sur des thèmes de Beethoven is a wickedly humorous exegesis on Beethoven's Variations on a Waltz by Diabelli, Op. 120. There are hints of jazz in some of Hamelin's variations, and these flower fully in the Suite à l'ancienne, which annotator Francis Pott proposes as a tribute to the jazz-classical fusionist Nikolai Kapustin; he composed a similar Suite in the Old Style. Hamelin concludes with an explosive Toccata on l'Homme Armé, the medieval tune that served as the basis for numerous Renaissance masses. So Hamelin's range of references is wide, but it is never random, and the listener who missed the subtler allusions will still enjoy the music. This is a bold, highly entertaining re-creation of the role of the classic virtuoso, idiomatically and clearly recorded at London's Henry Wood Hall. This release made classical best-seller lists in early 2024.© James Manheim /TiVo

Studio recordings are rare things today. Orchestras are of such great quality that publishers prefer live recordings, which are much cheaper than long studio sessions, with their complex production workloads. And so this is a rather "old-fashioned" (it's fashionable) publication here from Decca, directed by Smyon Bychkov, a conductor who has rarely appeared on records for some years. Born in the Soviet Union in 1952, Semyon Bychkov was destined for a fine career in his country when, at the age of 21, he was offered the opportunity to replace the titan Mravinski at the head of the Leningrad (today St Petersburg) Philharmonic Orchestra. But his contract was cancelled because of his political opinions: a move that obliged him to seek refuge in the USA, where his career truly began in earnest. Obtaining US nationality, he became the director of the Paris Orchestra for ten years, before accepting a similar post at the head of the WDR Cologne Radio Orchestra. Named the resident at the prestigious Czech Philharmonia following the premature death of its leader Jiří Bělohlávek, Semyon Bychkov started work on this anthology of Tchaikovsky's symphonic works, including the six symphonies, the rare and little-loved "Manfred" Symphony (in its original, uncut version, including the harmonium stipulated by the conductor), the piano concertos and the Serenade for strings. This was marathon job taken at a record-breaking sprint between 2015 and 2019. In the course of this project, the Russian conductor undertook minute work on the scores and studying the personal history of the composer, in particular around the Pathétique Symphony. For him, it wasn't a requiem to Tchaikovsky, but rather a "revolt against death and not the idea of death itself". As for the famous First Concerto, played here by Kirill Gerstein, he presents the more intimate original version, which is less emphatic than the one we are used to hearing. A fine piece of work with what Bychkov has described as an ideal orchestra, which mixes the highest expression of the Slavic spirit with a Western spirit: a synthesis which sums up Tchaikovsky's music itself. © François Hudry/Qobuz