Bernard Haitink

This disc, suitably and finely recorded with depth in 1985, is a very fine rendition of Vaughan Williams' seventh symphony, subtitled Antarctica, reflecting the source of its inspiration. The film depicts Scott's ill-fated expedition to the South Pole and Vaughan Williams was commissioned to write the music. While doing so, he became so engrossed by the subject that he reworked much of the material into his next symphony. The degree of reworking combined with fresh material took the music out of the realm of a film score suite and more properly into a symphonic conception.

The Second Concerto is more unitary in manner. There are still occasional moments of hard tone from Ashkenazy, but they are less noticeable here. It’s a nice performance if you like a pretty broad first movement, an energetic but controlled Scherzo, a mellow Andante and a Finale which aims more at grace and good humour than anything climatic. The recording is lively with a touch of glare at times.

Translucence, transparency – warmth' are the qualities identified by Bernard Haitink as necessary for an ideal sound performance of Beethoven's only opera, and all are present in this fantastic recording of Katharina Thalbach's new production for Opernhaus Zurich. Haitink conducts the Zurich Opera Orchestra in a magnificent performance in which Leonore Overture No. 3 provides an interlude between the two scenes of the second act, following a tradition started by Gustav Mahler.

NVC ARTS returned to Glyndebourne in 1994 for the opening of the beautiful, new opera house and a recording of an opera closely associated with Glyndebourne; Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro. Stephen Medcalf's production is complemented by John Gunter's sparsely furnished sets, offset by the rich greens, reds and blues in the scenery and costumes. A perfect Glyndebourne cast includes Gerald Finley and Alison Hagley who give touching performances of Figaro and Susanna. Andreas Schmidt is a strong and handsome Count Almaviva, Renée Fleming is a ravishing Countess and Marie-Ange Todorovitch is an irresistably love-sick Cherubino. Bernard Haitink draws polished playing from the London Philharmonic.

With one single reservation Haitink's account of Babiy Yar is superb. The reservation is that Marius Rintzler, although he has all the necessary blackness and gravity and is in amply sonforous voice, responds to the anger and the irony and the flaming denunciations of Yevtushenko's text with scarcely a trace of the histrionic fervour they cry out for. The excellent chorus, though, is very expressive and it makes up for a lot, as does the powerful and sustained drama of Haitink's direction.

This is as fine a performance of the concerto as you are likely to hear. From the wistful opening horn solo to the sunny, cheerful finale, Ax and Haitink bring out its grandeur, power, and majesty, but also its tender, pensive lyricism and feathery playfulness. Every note is important; there is time to caress details and nuances without losing sweep and flow; rhythms are flexible, liberties poised, the orchestral sound is intense yet clear. The playing of the sonata, too, is all anyone could wish for, technically, musically, and expressively; but, among the transcriptions of Brahms's works–some of which he sanctioned or made himself–this arrangement of the First Violin Sonata for cello by an unknown hand is one of the more controversial and less felicitous.

Collection of all five Beethoven piano concertos, played by a young Vladimir Ashkenazy at the height of his piano-playing career. Accompanied by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by the great conductor Bernard Haitink, this was a first for television.