You can search through our extensive database of thousands of releases from Orchestral and Opera to Choral, Jazz and beyond.
Written by the expert critics of BBC Music Magazine and with over a hundred new reviews added every month, the archive dates back to the magazine's launch in 1992 and now includes over 20,000 reviews.
NB A few points to bear in mind when searching:
When looking for symphonies, concertos, etc., the numbers must appear as follows with a space between 'No.' and the number itself:
There is no need to include capital letters or accents in your search – the database is neither case- nor accent-sensitive.
How wonderful to be surprised by joy at what must surely be approaching the 100th Winterreise in recording history! Werner Güra’s light, lyrical tenor is in immaculately nurtured voice for this deeply considered performance. And its fresh and individual revisiting of every phrase is brightly focused by the timbre of Christoph Berner’s 1872 fortepiano, its articulation both ice-bright and, where appropriate, chillingly numbed.
Though it embraces three works and spans nearly half a century of Rodion Shchedrin’s output, the bulk of this welcome new release is devoted to the composer’s fourth opera, The Enchanted Wanderer. Premiered by the New York Philharmonic in 2002, this ‘opera for the concert stage’ – mainly slow and meditative, and more about narrative than drama – has found natural advocates at the Mariinsky, for Valery Gergiev and his forces instinctively feel how deeply rooted it is in Russian tradition.
Dvoπák’s late symphonic poems were his way of re-engaging with the Bohemian heartland after his three-year stay in America. They are based on the folk-inspired ballads of Karel Jaromír Erben which, in true Brothers Grimm style, often have a macabre edge: in the course of these four works there are two infanticides and a dismemberment. But Erben’s verse is also superbly evocative of fairy-tale atmosphere and the mysterious depths of the Bohemian forest.
With this disc, Freddy Kempf shoots straight into the top ten of Prokofiev interpreters. His Third Concerto has personality to match Martha Argerich, William Kapell, Evgeny Kissin and indeed the composer in his own recording. And what a true partnership it is, too, with Andrew Litton and the ever-waxing Bergen Philharmonic, reflected in an ideal recorded balance.
The word ‘symphonie’ tended to do terrible things to the French brain and, especially after the Franco-Prussian war, the demon ‘earnestness’ lurked, seeking whom it might devour.
These are superlative performances of these extremely familiar works, though it isn’t easy to say exactly why they are so fine. They are not wildly idiosyncratic. Till Fellner, a pianist I have admired in everything that I have heard him do, in concert or on record, is not in the least a showman or someone with a strongly projected personality, yet in collaboration with the inspiring Kent Nagano he has achieved something remarkable.
Jazz musicians are drawn to strings – and sometimes they get they get their lines crossed. Classically inclined pianist Brad Mehldau is better equipped than most. He’s spent time in the other camp, writing for singers Anne Sofie von Otter and Renée Fleming and has scored a piece for the Orchestre National d’Île de France. Plus he says recently he’s been studying ‘the big Romantic stuff’.
The leading light of Hungarian folk music, Márta Sebestyén, is best known for her haunting contribution to the soundtrack of The English Patient. She’s been somewhat off the radar in recent years, but this new disc of Carpathian folk and religious songs is a welcome return to her cherished roots.
The austere, all-acoustic arrangements feature just two other musicians, who expertly frame Sebestyén’s gorgeous, ornamented vocals with breathy, rustic flutes, earthy bagpipes, and ethereal, silvery strings.
What luxuriant times we live in. I cannot imagine being without at least a dozen of the numerous interesting recordings on harpsichord of Bach’s variation masterpiece, the Goldbergs. A handful of them at least seem effortlessly to retain their place high on the Parnassian slopes, and among these I would cite Malcolm Proud (Maya), Gustav Leonhardt (Teldec), Maggie Cole (Virgin), and Pierre Hantaï (Mirare). To this select group I shall now add the new version by Andreas Staier.