Georg Solti.

Involving, as it does, three master musicians and a fine chamber orchestra this was never likely to be be other than rewarding. It may not correspond with the ways of playing Mozart at the beginning of the twenty-first century which are fashionable at the beginning of the twenty-first century, but it has virtues – such as high intelligence, sympathy, certainty of purpose, grace, alertness of interplay – which transcend questions of performance practice. Looking at the names of the pianists above, we might be surprised by the presence of Sir Georg Solti, so used are we to thinking of him as a conductor. But the young Solti appeared in public as a pianist from the age of twelve and went on to study piano in Budapest, with Dohnányi and Bartok.

This recording derives from a production at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden in 1974 conducted by Solti.The team of singers here is entirely strong and convincing . As Onegin, Bernd Weikl skillfully suggests a range of feeling: scorn, vindictiveness, regret and desolation. Teresa Kubiak is an endearing Tatyana, especially strong in the last scene. Stuart Burrows is unexcelled as Lenski. Almost stealing the show, is the Gremin of Nicolai Ghiaurov, whose solitary appearance in Act 3 is well worth the wait.

Solti’s recording of Elgar 1 blew across the face of British music in the early Seventies like a blast of fresh air. Immersing himself in Elgar’s own brisk interpretations, Solti forced us to reassess the provincial tradition of Boult and Barbirolli. Hearing it again now, one is struck, if anything, by the lavish attention to detail and by a sense of loving devotion to the music; the slow movement is positively reverential. More recent readings (Slatkin, Davis, etc) show how things have developed, and Hurst’s Naxos account is a strong budget contender. But Solti’s version is deeply felt and gloriously played.

Solti's interpretations held more than surface excitement. In conducting Beethoven, for example, he long held that the symphonies should be played with all their repeats to maintain their structural integrity, and he carefully rethought his approach to tempo, rhythm, and balance in those works toward the end of his life. Solti began as a pianist, commencing his studies at age six and making his first public appearance at 12. When he was 13 he enrolled at Budapest's Franz Liszt Academy of Music, studying piano mainly with Dohnányi and, for a very short time, Bartók. He also took composition courses with Kodály.

It’s interesting that Georg Solti’s recordings of Strauss tone poems seem never to have gotten the attention that they deserve. True, he did not program them with the same frequency and comprehensiveness that he did Strauss’ contemporary Mahler, but Solti’s credentials as an exciting and idiomatic conductor of the operas have never been questioned. He knew and worked with the composer personally from his days at the helm of the Munich opera after the Second World War, and more to the point, he plays this music with just the kind of directness and virtuosity that it demands.

The outstanding production of Verdi’s Masked Ball at the Salzburg Festivals 1989 and 1990 was Herbert von Karajan’s legacy to the Festival. Supported by a cast of superlative actor-singers in opulent scenery, Sir George Solti agreed to conduct the opera at short notice after Karajan’s unexpected death in 1989. The production had been expected to be a highlight in Karajan’s series of Verdi operas at Salzburg. Karajan’s celebrated ability to unite a cultivated sound with dramatic effects was known to create extraordinary and highly acclaimed opera events. For Un ballo in maschera Karajan planned something unusual: He would not set the opera in colonial Massachusetts, as the censors had forced Verdi to do when he was composing the work, but in Stockholm in the 1790s at the court of King Gustav III of Sweden, as Verdi had originally conceived his work. Together with the film director John Schlesinger and his stage team, Karajan developed a concept that promised theatrical splendour equal to the musical excellence that the conductor and the handpicked cast of singers would surely provide in collaboration with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.

After more than forty years this remains the best recording of "Tannhäuser" for a number of reasons. Good recordings have never been thick on the ground and while this one is by no means perfect, it pretty much kicks everything else into touch by virtue of the extraordinary vibrancy and erotic ambiance of Solti's direction - I believe this to be his finest achievement in terms of pure conducting.

A dream team had been assembled at London’s Royal Opera House for this 1992 performance of Verdi’s Otello. Placido Domingo, uninhibited in the use of his vast vocal power, was the commanding Otello; Kiri Te Kanawa a more sturdy Desdemona than the fragile female often portrayed, while Sergei Leiferkus’s Iago is totally convincing by avoiding those sneering gestures that are too often seen. In the pit was Georg Solti whipping the orchestra into a fury as the opening storm is unleashed, but later on can show some impatience in his choice of tempos. The production was, in the best use of the term, ‘traditional’ and came from Elijah Moshinsky, his set designer, Timothy O’Brian, creating a massive edifice that has to serve all of four acts, leaving the final bedroom scene working in an area that is too large.

The 'Faust' Symphony included here was recorded in 1986 by Georg Solti and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra whose boss for many years he was. It is a legendary collaboration with quite a recording catalogue behind it, mostly for DECCA; both the legendary status and the recording legacy are probably second only to Karajan and the Berliner Philharmoniker. Such close collaboration between great musicians and great label is bound to produce memorable results. As it might be expected from DECCA, the digital sound is excellent, with impeccable clarity and dynamic range beyond reproach; but without that annoying flatness, or glassy artificiality, or call it what you like, that often affects digital recordings - or at least it used to do so in the early days of the digital era.

It is more than twenty years since Solti last recorded Così for Decca, and if that earlier version was far from ideally cast, this new one more than makes amends. Above all, it has a commanding Fiordiligi in Renée Fleming, who conveys all the tragic vulnerability of this central character. Her performance of the great second-act rondo ‘Per pietà’ would be enough to melt the hardest of hearts. Anne Sofie von Otter and Olaf Bär are in fine form, too; and while Adelina Scarabelli is not exactly a mistress of disguises (she scarcely alters her voice at all for Despina’s part as the mesmeric doctor), her vitality is irresistible.