Vladimir Ashkenazy

The earliest piece on this disc is the delightful Pastorale, written in 1907, when Stravinsky was 25; the latest is the enigmatic Epitaphium, written 52 years later. In between come a clutch of pieces from that fascinating period of Stravinsky’s life when he was moving from Russianism to neo-classicism via jazz. The remaining two, the Octet of 1923 and the Septet of 1953, are both firmly in Stravinsky’s witty, poised neo-classical style, though the Septet is moving towards new, tougher territory. Stravinsky himself made classic recordings of these pieces in the Sixties, now reissued on CD on the Sony label. These are always electric, if sometimes a little untidy, and so closely recorded you feel the players are sitting in your lap. By that lofty benchmark this new recording measures up superbly. Tempos are just as brisk and alert as Stravinsky’s, the accents just as incisive. These qualities are combined with a beautiful soft-grained tone – a nice change from Stravinsky’s lemon-sharp sound.

Even though Vladimir Ashkenazy is most often celebrated for his brilliantly virtuosic interpretations of Romantic repertoire, his skills in playing works of the Classical era are just as worthy, as proved by this 10-disc set from London of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's piano concertos. These performances span a period from 1966 to 1988, capturing a youthful and vigorous Ashkenazy playing and conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra and the English Chamber Orchestra from the keyboard, in approved Mozartian fashion. All of the keyboard concertos are here, including the official 27 concertos for piano and orchestra, the Concerto for two pianos in E flat major, K. 365, the Concerto for three pianos in F major, K. 242, as well as the two Rondos K. 382 and K. 386. Ashkenazy's elegant playing has been highly praised by critics and placed on a level with his esteemed contemporaries Murray Perahia, Daniel Barenboim, and Alfred Brendel, all past masters of Mozart's primary medium of expression.

This two-disc set, one of numerous crossover collections released by the Decca/Universal family of labels, bears the name of Russian pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy only in small print at the end of the list of pieces included. Newcomers to classical music can rest assured that they're getting a two-for-one bonus by purchasing Essential Chopin – not only an introduction to the Polish-French composer who helped elevate the small solo piano work to the pinnacle of musical art, but also a sampling of the talents of one of the great keyboard artists of our own time. Ashkenazy rumbles with power on the more extended Ballades and the "Revolutionary" Etude in C minor, Op. 10/2, while Chopin's lighter dance-rhythm pieces and lyrical Nocturnes sparkle under Ashkenazy's effortless hands.

Legendary conductor and pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy releases Johann Sebastian Bach's English Suites 1 - 3. This stunning, brand-new recording sits alongside a remastering of his first-ever Bach recording, the D Minor Concerto, recorded in 1965 in a must-have 2 CD Digipak collection. Amassing over 850M streams with a vast catalogue, Ashkenazy is amongst the foremost musical figures of our time and this release is a must-have for any classical music fan.

To describe this as beautiful Mozart playing would be true, but not the whole truth. For what impressed me most was its very positive character. Everything is of crystalline clarity, everything is what can be conveniently summarized as stylish. Yet never is there a single bar's suggestion of note-weaving for its own sake. Ashkenazy always uncovers strong motives for the notes being there. For this reason he is more likely to convert disbelievers (and there are some, in the context of Mozart and the solo keyboard) than Haebler in her recent boxed set.

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.

Mats Lidström is that rare thing, an original musician. The sheer mercurial energy which drives his performances can be both engaging and disturbing, but there is always a searching intelligence at work. The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra lost much when its compelling, if unpredictable, lead cellist departed. These two concertos show him at his persuasive best, bringing lesser known works to life. Kabalevsky’s 1964 Concerto stretches and yawns with slow pizzicato before springing into urgent life. Sub-Shostakovich in its motifs and tonality, it is nevertheless well-constructed and uses the saxophone to great effect. In both Allegro movements Lidström achieves a lightning speed and attack and, though Raphael Wallfisch’s recording on Nimbus has a more solid beauty of tone, the Swede’s nervous anticipation makes up for the thinner sound of his Grancino cello. Khachaturian’s 1946 Concerto would make a wonderful soundtrack to a cinematic faux-Oriental extravaganza, with its twisting major and minor intervals, and almost sleazy chromaticism. Lidström really knows how to swing, and makes the most of the memorable melodies.

During the 1970s, Vladimir Ashkenazy recorded virtually the entire standard piano repertoire, largely successfully. Then he turned to conducting, at which he's steadily become more successful. Although his initial efforts on the podium were not greeted with universal acclaim, you've got to respect the fact that he moved onto something new rather than attempting to revisit the same music again and risk not doing it nearly as well. Among his complete editions was this set of Prokofiev piano concertos, and they are among the best things that he did. At two discs for the price of one, it's a fine way to acquire all of these exciting works.

Vladimir Ashkenazy’s way with the Rachmaninov Second Piano Concerto noticeably mellowed in the years between his blistering 1963 premiere recording on Decca with Kirill Kondrashin and this 1986 reading. That’s not to say it became mushy or dull, but it is certainly heavier, characterized by a prevailing darkness that calls to mind Stravinsky’s description of Rachmaninov as a “six-foot scowl.” Ashkenazy’s rich tone and emphatic phrasing assures an overall somber cast, while Bernard Haitink draws similarly-countenanced playing from the Concertgebouw Orchestra–the low strings especially. However, there is a respite from the gloom in the quite touching rendition of the lyrical slow movement.