Enthusiasm for Leopold Stokowski's idiosyncratic arrangements is uncommon nowadays, and purists may reject this recording simply on spotting his name. Oliver Knussen's peculiar fascination with Stokowski started in childhood, and his position now seems that of a standard-bearer, eager to rehabilitate his idol and his arrangements for posterity. Appreciation of these versions may be difficult for those who like the polished orchestrations by Ravel and Rimsky-Korsakov, or who only take Mussorgsky's originals straight. Since Pictures at an Exhibition has been arranged many times, one may approach Stokowski's version with an open mind. However, "Tuileries" and "The Marketplace at Limoges" are missing, due to Stokowski's misapprehension that Ravel had composed them. Aside from these inexcusable cuts, Pictures comes off in a grandiose manner, though often too slow and atmospheric. The moody Symphonic Synthesis on "Boris Godunov" is less likely to raise objections, for the liberties Stokowski takes in the reduction of the opera to a synoptic suite are understandable. The flamboyant Night on Bare Mountain, made famous in Disney's Fantasia, comes off vividly in this recording. Knussen ably leads the Cleveland Orchestra through its harrowing passages, making this nightmarish piece the most enjoyable track on the disc. Deutsche Grammophon's soft recorded sound requires a fairly high volume setting.© TiVo

This recording landed on classical best-seller lists in the autumn of 2023, and several factors combined to place it there. One is the sensitive ensemble work throughout from the trio of violinist Veronika Jarůšková, cellist Peter Jarůšek, and pianist Boris Giltburg. Jarůšková and Jarůšek are members of the fine Pavel Haas Quartet, but the trio, as such, is quite new, and Giltburg, moreover, is better known for virtuoso repertory than for chamber music. One would never know it from the seamlessly executed conceptions and transitions, with Giltburg in no way spilling out of the texture. Another factor is the presence of the first two Dvořák trios, early but by no means immature works. Recordings of them are not common, but hear the absolutely characteristic opening of the Piano Trio No. 1 in B flat major, Op. 21, with its pentatonic melody; handled as sensitively as it is here by Jarůšková, the work is the equal of any of the later trios. Lastly, there is the fresh reading of the Piano Trio, Op. 90 ("Dumky"), one of Dvořák's most popular works. Several movements receive interesting interpretations. Consider the beginning, where the Lento maestoso designation is applied to the movement as a whole, with the opening chords kept consistent in tempo with what follows. This diverts the emotional center to the beautifully sad counterpoint between the cello and violin as the movement continues. The sound from the Wyastone Estate is warm but a bit close up, one of few complaints, and this is a major chamber music release that will yield a great deal of satisfying listening.© James Manheim /TiVo

A conductor, arranger and musicologist, John Wilson is also a leading specialist in musical theatre, which he successfully directs in the UK. In 2018, he re-formed the Sinfonia of London, a studio orchestra that was in its prime back in the 1950s and recorded music for famous films such as Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo with a score by Bernard Herrmann. Today, as ever, the Sinfonia of London is comprised of the best instrumentalists in the British capital.Exceptionally meticulous, John Wilson always stays close to the source of the works he directs, as can be seen in the ballet Ma Mère l’Oye and the greatly received Boléro by Maurice Ravel (which sounds superb with the incessantly slow tempo that gives it an almost menacing grandeur). His take on these two works form part of a contemporary edition, and the final result is subtle and full of finesse.Wilson’s meticulousness is particularly suited to Ravel’s music, conducted here with plenty of flourish and grace whilst still maintaining that je-ne-sais-quoi that the French composer is known for. The incredibly talented musicians that form the Sinfonia of London allow the conductor to explore even the most minute of nuances. The sensuality of the music can sometimes be a little strange, perhaps even convoluted at times, but it all feels so typical of Ravel. A special mention also goes to the sound technicians at the Chandos label who do an incredible job of reproducing every tiny detail. This collection demonstrates just how nuanced music can be. © François Hudry/Qobuz

While Israeli-Russian pianist Boris Giltburg’s career is taking off all over the world, he has felt very close to Belgium ever since he won first prize in the 2013 Queen Elisabeth Competition. After several recordings for EMI (Warner), here he gives a studio rendition of the Third Concerto, and the Variations on a Theme of Corelli by Sergei Rachmaninov, on his tenth album for Naxos, which completes his often-unique approach to the Russian pianist-composer. The Études-tableaux and the Second Concerto divided opinion, with some seeing him as a "new Glenn Gould" (sic) who would do away with routines, while others drew attention to the total indifference of his style. Boris Giltburg's technique is such that he can give free rein to his imagination while taking care of the minute details of one of the most difficult concertos in the repertoire. Fascinated by the manufacture of instruments, in 2016 he took up the new 102-key piano from French manufacturer Stephen Paulello, a thrilling instrument which the musical world has been eagerly anticipating for a long time, and which proves that, just like in the 19th century, the piano can still evolve towards other sounds. For this Concerto n° 3, recorded at Glasgow's Royal Concert Hall, Boris Giltburg returns to his dear Fazioli piano and is joined by Mexican conductor Carlo Miguel Prieto at the head of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Violinist Théotime Langlois de Swarte and harpsichordist Justin Taylor, two of the most promising virtuosos of the new generation and founder members of the ensemble Le Consort, now present a duo album that pays tribute to a great eighteenth-century dynasty of musicians, the violinists and composers of the Francoeur family. The Sonatas of Louis Francoeur (ca. 1692-1745), known as "Francoeur the Elder", and those of his brother François (1698-1787) are dance suites featuring polyphonic effects produced by the use of double stopping. Justin Taylor and Théotime Langlois de Swarte bring these varied treasures back to life with the energy and grace for which they are already well known. © Alpha Classics

When I can’t be the only one who has the Pavel Haas Quartet’s magnificent Dvořák quintets collaboration with Boris Giltburg and Pavel Nikl still ringing in my ears (and indeed making repeat returns to my stereo), I equally can’t be the only one whose heart is beating faster upon first sight of this Brahms-shaped reunion for them. So, to all of you for whom the above does indeed apply, know that these readings will if anything exceed your already-high expectations. First up is the Op. 34 Piano Quintet in dark F minor, an early-career work which began life in 1862 as a string quintet with two cellos, channelling Schubert’s great C major String Quintet, but which ultimately – at the suggestion of both Clara Schumann and Joseph Joachim – needed a second look. In 1864, therefore, Brahms reworked the original to create both a sonata for two pianos and this piano quartet – drawing from Beethoven’s “Appassionata” Sonata, while also still very audibly paying homage to the Schubert Quintet, heard especially clearly at the close of the Scherzo via its final C being preceded by a dramatic D-flat. As for the Pavel Haas Quartet and Boris Giltburg, think multi-timbred, metrically fleet-footed, heart-filled playing, spanning the dynamic range, which thoroughly realises both the work’s turbulent passion and its highly symphonic feel, with the ability to switch the emotional dial in a heartbeat. Highlights include an absolute blinder of a Scherzo for the conviction of its emotional extremes, and at its most high-octane moments the rhythmic drive and spring of their attack, and the overall sound’s satisfyingly powerful, woody thwack. Then next we jump to 1890 and to the Op. 111 two-viola String Quintet in G major Brahms is said to have initially intended as his last musical work, its language thus nodding to his musical life’s influences – from Beethoven to Schubert, and from waltzing Johann Strauss to Wagner, with further colour by way of the Hungarian motifs he loved to pepper his work with. And again, it’s a rare treat to have such a sensation of unbridled freedom and singing exuberance at the music’s most impassioned climaxes as we have here. Equally affecting are the moments where the music suddenly retreats into whispers either sweetly tender or darkly tragic (head to the first movement for some beauty). There’s also the delicious rhythmic swing of their dance impetus when things get folky. Essentially, don’t hesitate. This is an album for life. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz

Maurice Ravel's Le tombeau de Couperin has sometimes been paired with music by its namesake, naturally enough, but here, pianist Martin James Bartlett expands the concept a bit, adding Rameau at the beginning, some little two-piano pieces by Reynaldo Hahn and Ravel's apocalyptic La valse as a grand finale. The result is that he looks outward from the neoclassic world, catching the memorial function of Le tombeau de Couperin (the work's six movements memorialize friends of the composer killed in World War I) and carrying overtones of the whole world that vanished with the war. The inclusion of the pair of two-piano pieces from Le ruban dénoué by the intensely nostalgic Hahn intensifies the mood. Bartlett's tone is measured, avoiding sentiment and holding to an elevated aesthetic. His La valse has an impact that is all the greater in this context. Ravel denied that this work was a symbolic representation of the decline of the old central European culture or of anything else, but one might rejoin that he did not have to realize it for this to be so. Hahn plays the work in its single-piano arrangement, made by Ravel. This is not often heard, due not only to its sheer difficulty but also because of its swirling density. Having introduced the second piano of Alexandre Tharaud in the Hahn works, Bartlett could easily have kept it on for the Ravel. However, his decision was intelligent; the single-piano arrangement has an overwhelming quality that works very well here. This is an unusually cohesive and powerful program, beautifully performed, and the album landed on classical best-seller lists in early 2024.© James Manheim /TiVo

Recording Ravel's music on period instruments is the kind of thing that might raise a smile... until you realise just how much the production of instruments has changed in less than a hundred years: it's the return of catgut strings, skin drum heads, the French basson (and not the German system bassoon which is used across all the world's orchestras today), shaper tips, trumpets and trombones of French manufacture. At the head of his orchestra Les Siècles, François-Xavier Roth gives a new, orthodox, historically-informed version of Ma Mère l’oye (complete ballet), the Tombeau de Couperin and Shéhérazade, the long-neglected "ouverture de féérie" [Fairy Overture] which is pure Ravel. This return to the roots is clearly easier and more straightforwardly authentic for this period of music history, because, unlike earlier works, we possess recordings which date back to the 1920s, and even earlier, which can tell us about the style, the colours, the phrasing and the tempo. But it isn't enough just to have all this historical information to hand to make something interesting. What makes this record thrilling is that all the musicians in the Siècles are excellent, and François-Xavier Roth is a talented artist himself, who knows this music inside out. At which point, his complete recording of Stravinsky's Firebird has already struck us with its quality. This rediscovery of Ravel resounds with clarity and finesse; it is a feast of well-defined timbres which cuts against the "beautiful sound" which prevails in orchestras around the world today. © François Hudry/Qobuz