There is no shortage of hot-shot violinists in the 21st century, but Mengla Huang is a pretty remarkable virtuoso never the less. On a CD sent to me by Lee he makes even Paganini's "Moses" variations sound like something to be tossed off casually on a Sunday afternoon. Remarkable violin playing, with a slightly husky, dry sound that becomes oddly attractive and distinctive after a while. I must dig out from the archives another CD of his that I have somewhere.

Bought entirely on a whim (thanks to some reviewer) I nevertheless find myself greatly enjoying a CD of the orchestral music of Philippe Gaubert (1879-1941). Strains of Vaughan Williams, Chausson, Wagner, Korngold, et al. Well written, easy to listen to, and most enjoyable. It is ridiculous that such music languishes pretty well unknown. All praise to the Timpani label for the recordings with the Orchestre Philharmonique du Luxembourg.

In the wrong hands, the first partita for solo violin by Bach (BWV 1002, in B minor) can sound interminable. Even in good hands, it can often sound too long. High praise, therefore, to Alina Ibragimova in her recent Wigmore Hall recital for keeping my wrapt attention for each of the 29 minutes. Ibragimova has a beautiful control of ever-varying dynamics, and a subtle and varied bowing arm.  A first class recital. Fancy listening to the B minor partita without my attention wandering once! Chalk it up.

Following a suggestion by David in New Zealand, I re-visited Leonid Kogan's 1954 public performance of Bach's Chaconne. It is indeed an amazing performance, and an incredible example of fine violin playing. Kogan often ventured into unaccompanied Bach (unlike David Oistrakh who, probably wisely, appears to have pretty well avoided it). The worst unaccompanied Bach I ever listened to was by Alfredo Campoli; at a concert I attended long ago in Blenheim Palace around 1969 when he stood-in for an indisposed Menuhin, and also from some private recordings from the Campoli family archives. Big, fat, throbbing Bach: sounded like Max Bruch's twin brother.

Once again – it's becoming a recent habit – I enjoyed a performance of Brahms' concerto for violin and cello. A mellow, autumnal reading by Georg Kulenkampff and Enrico Mainardi, recorded in July 1947. The benign orchestral part (Suisse Romande orchestra) was conducted by Carl Schuricht.

I shall always recall a concert I attended on Good Friday sometime during the period 1955-58 at the Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris where Schuricht was conducting the Orchestre des Concerts Colonne. On the programme was Wagner's Good Friday music from Parsifal, and also the adagio from Bruckner's 7th symphony (in those days –luckily – it was still acceptable to do isolated symphonic movements, otherwise I might never have fallen in love with Bruckner). The mellow Kulenkampff-Mainardi-Schuricht Brahms performance from 1947 appeals greatly, as does the transfer by Michael Dutton.

The five CDs issued by Cembal d'Amour featuring David Nadien are an essential purchase for any lover of violin playing. For once, the sleeve design's "The Legendary Violinist" is pretty accurate. The latest CD has Nadien in the Beethoven violin concerto in 1952, and the Mendelssohn violin concerto in 1975. As with all Nadien recordings, these are amateur recordings made during concerts, though the sound is surprisingly good, given the sources. The Beethoven comes over as a concerto for violin, orchestra and coughers and is a somewhat conventional 1952 reading, with the G minor section in the first movement converted into an andante. For about the first time in my life, I have found someone who takes the andante movement of the Mendelssohn concerto too fast for my taste; most violinists now play it un poco adagio, but with Nadien it's allegretto and sounds rushed. What counts, however, is Nadien's playing. Whether Nadien be playing the Mendelssohn too quickly, or Pop Goes the Weasel too slowly, he is always a pleasure to listen to.

Usual two kilos of mussels this weekend, in addition to 300 gms of scallops and a duck which I am about to spit roast and consume with a green salad and a bottle of St Emilion.

When I die and go to heaven (?) the pearly gates will open ... and there waiting for me will be Sara Mingardo and Sandrine Piau singing Handel opera duets. They were both on my latest CD which arrived this morning and provide unalloyed pleasure from Minute1 through to Minute 70. Handel, Mozart and Schubert were the three composers who could write melodies at the drop of a hat. On this new CD, Mingardo and Piau are perfectly matched, violin and viola, both with an attractive maturity of voice and expression. The Concerto Italiano under Rinaldo Alessandrini gives perfect backing. Yet another Handel classic disc.

Like Mozart, like Strauss, I seem to be enamoured of the soprano voice. The weekend started with a re-listen to Diana Damrau in Mozart, and ended with Carolyn Sampson in Purcell songs. Both first class; Purcell may be the world's most under-estimated composer.

Welcome visit from elder daughter, plus husband. Excellent lunch (though I say it myself) of charcuterie, Thai soup and cheeses. Good champagne, and the usual good Chevalier Collier 2005 St. Emilion. No fresh squid available, so two octupi had to deputise in the Thai soup; squid is better.

There are violinists obviously in hot pursuit of a distinguished career, and pots of money; one thinks of people such as Nikolaj Znaider or Chloe Hanslip, trailing a team of advisers, backers, sponsors, trainers, parents and PR gurus. Then there are violinists such as Alina Ibragimova who gives the impression of playing the violin because she likes it, and playing music that she likes. Having just listened to her in 60 minutes of unaccompanied Bach, I think she is absolutely terrific. All modern women under 30 have a stupendous violin technique, of course. And Ibragimova has that, effortlessly and in spades. But she also has enthusiasm and sincerity that hoists her head and shoulders above most of the (formidable) competition. She is still only 23, or thereabouts! Let us hope she lasts the course.

An evening with Mozart opera arias and the phenomenal Diana Damrau. My main impulse for buying the CD -- which is somewhat off the beaten track for me -- was the number of rave reviews. For once, I agree with the reviews. I was particularly struck by the resemblance here between Mozart and Handel (or, probably more accurately, between Mozart and late baroque). The same glorious melodic gift as Handel; the same voice-hugging accompaniments. It makes you realise just how far Johann Sebastian Bach was from the mainstream, with his complex counterpoint and polyphony.

A weekend's music devoted to Anton Bruckner. First, the 7th Symphony with Eduard van Beinum (1952); then the 8th Symphony with Bernard Haitink (2005) -- the orchestra being the magnificent Concertgebouw Orchestra in both cases. Haitink is, for the moment, the last in the line of Bruckner conductors that includes Furtwängler, Klemperer, Horenstein, Knappertsbusch, Jochum and Wand. Conducting Bruckner is becoming a lost art. I enjoyed my Bruckner sessions. Unlike Brahms' orchestral music, Bruckner knows when to relax during his long journeys.  And Haitink is a much under-rated conductor. Both recordings courtesy of Ronald. Eat my usual weekend two kilos of moules marinières; they go well with Bruckner.

A rare excursion for me into Brahms, yesterday evening with the 2nd piano concerto and Solomon's famous 1947 recording for EMI. Alas, I think my Brahms days are over. I find his music too noisy and turgid, and the unceasing bursts of energy debilitating. It was a relief to return to Spohr and Wieniawski! With many exceptions (particularly for Bruckner and Wagner) I am less and less keen on the German Romantics; even Beethoven now gets in only because of some of his string quartets and piano sonatas. The Brahms symphones (cf Mahler) yield for me only isolated movements: the first and last movement of the fourth symphony, the third movement of the third symphony, etc.

This weekend again features two kilos of moules marinières, thanks to Wm Morrison's supermarket. Truly excellent.

The violin concertos of Ludwig Spohr are well worth a detour to listen to. Melodious, agreeable, unchallenging and "hummable". The new Naxos CD with Simone Lamsma and the Sinfonia Finlandia is an excellent disc, with Lamsma not interposing herself between Spohr's music and the listeners' ears. Praise also to the Sinfonia Finlandia which is just the right size for this pleasant music; we do not need a full-blown Bruckner-type symphony orchestra.

Once again, thanks to St Klaus Heymann; thank goodness he married a violinist! It was a lucky day for lovers of violin music.

A very pleasant violin CD from the unknown (to me) Corey Cerovsek, which I bought mainly because of the repertoire (Wieniawski and Vieuxtemps). Cerovsek plays the second Wieniawski violin concerto (why not the less-recorded first?) and the fifth Vieuxtemps violin concerto (why not the fourth?) He also adds Wieniawski's Faust Fantasia. Truly excellent recording (Claves) and good support from the Lausanne Chamber Orchestra under Hannu Lintu.

It is strange that Cerovsek's playing on this CD made me think immediately of Nai-Yuan Hu, who has a very similar sound. Interesting that both Cervsek and Hu are Josef Gingold pupils; he obviously made an indelible impression on them  Both Cerovsek's disc, and an excellent Bruch-Goldmark disc from Hu, are dedicated to Josef Gingold. In this repertoire -- and also in Kreisler pieces -- there could be no better model. 

This evening belongs to William Morrison (Morrison's Supermarkets) and Klaus Heymann (Naxos). Mr Morrison's shop furnished me with about the best mussels I have ever eaten (and on special offer, to boot!) I bought two kilos and had to reject just one mussel during preparation. Really, really top class. Thank you William Morrison. I'll be back. And back.

During the 1950s when I started collecting recordings, it was an expensive hobby, and choice was limited to mainstream repertoire with, typically,  a realistic choice of around four competitive recordings. This evening I listened to Emil Gilels playing short pieces on a new Naxos CD. Wonderful playing,  of course.  But what was even more remarkable was the transfers (Ward Marston) of these 1935-50 Russian recordings. The Soviet Union may have produced more top-class violinists and pianists than the whole of the Western world put together; but it was not noted for its state-of-the-art recording technology (unlike the Germans during the same period). But this £5 Naxos CD really is top-class, with truly excellent transfers at a truly excellent price. Where would we be without Klaus Heymann? And why was he not churning out desirable recordings in the 1950s when I was impoverished? Nowadays, I lose count of  the number of Naxos CDs I have in my collection (and the number grows every month). Naxos, and Harmonia Mundi; both the products of two driven individuals who have made such a difference to the world of recorded music.

The first day of 2009. And, fittingly, I celebrated it by listening to Bach's St Matthew Passion -- all nearly four hours of it. This really is the pinnacle work of classical music (closely followed, as per my last post, by the Mass in B minor and Beethoven's C sharp minor string quartet). The recording I listened to for the first time today was recorded in 1960 and conducted by Otto Klemperer. Many now term Klemperer's Bach "slow" or "old fashioned". Well, so it is, especially in the chorales. But "slow" can also be termed considered, or majestic, or magisterial, or full of gravitas. Whatever; Klemperer and his excellent choir, orchestra and soloists make a convincing case that this is how Bach should be performed; unhurried, with clear textures and a supreme overall sense of structure and design. We are a long way from Rachel Podger or Jaap Schröder and their ilk, thank goodness. The St Matthew Passion means something to Klemperer, and had done for decades. Maybe one day the wheel will come full circle and we will stop this ridiculous quest of historical reconstructions of how Bach's music may have sounded in 1725 at the first performance of the St Matthew Passion; as if Bach were famed for calculating nuances of sound and colouring, anyway -- he who swapped violins for flutes and harpsichords for violins depending on who was less drunk that morning, and what good instrumentalist was in town at the moment. The refusal to let the music breathe properly, that I noted in Suzuki's recording of the Mass in B Minor, is not present with Klemperer. The score of the Passion breathes, in its own time, and every dynamic and tempo has its righful place in the scheme of things. 10/10, and three stars. And a good start to 2009.

New Year's Eve. A disappointing leg of lamb (a bit tough) but my last bottle of Monsieur Bachelet's 1998 red wine was in flawless condition.

As a musical hors d'oeuvre I listened to Simone Lamsma playing Elgar salon pieces; entirely admirable, both music and playing. Ms Lamsma knows that music like this must not be milked, but must be allowed to flow freely and swiftly. As a main work, I listened to Masaaki Suzuki directing his forces in Bach's Bach in B Minor. What a magnificent work this is! To my mind, one of the three pinnacles of Western music (the other peaks being the St Matthew Passion, and Beethoven's C sharp minor string quartet opus 131). Suzuki's performance is excellent, though in places he could allow the music a little more time to breathe (a common modern drawback in Bach performances). Now on to 2009 ...

Christmas 2008 has been dominated by Bach cantatas. Today I polished off the last Kuijken disc, and now await new issues in 2009. Following a reference in a book, I listened to BWV 054 (Widerstehe doch der Sünde) and picked the Gardiner version. Very good. Listening on to the next cantata on the Gardiner disc, however, I baulked at the large Monteverdi choir; large choirs for the coro in Bach's cantatas, to my mind, destroy the intimate, chamber character of the works. When it comes to performances of the baroque repertoire I am a bit schizophrenic (since I would happily deport the likes of Rachel Podger and her cohorts to Australia at the drop of a hat).

I also listened to Handel's Orlando: sheer delight. As an excursion from Bach and Handel I also played a (new) CD of the Soloisti di Moscow under Yury Bashmet in Grieg (Holberg), Mozart (Eine Kleine Nachtmusick) and Tchaikovsky (Serenade in C). But, alas, it was like interrupting the drinking of a bottle of 1995 Margaux grand cru premier classe in order to take a few sips of diet Pepsi-cola. There is not too much you can listen to after Bach and Handel.

Finally, I tried yet again to make friends with Shostakovich's 10th symphony. I love his first violin concerto, his piano trio and his piano quintet. But the symphonies just are not me. A pity.

This weekend was occupied with listening to twelve Bach church cantatas! All performed by Sigiswald Kuijken and his team.

At the end of it, I am full of admiration for Bach and for his ability to churn out week after week high-class, high quality music of real and long-term interest. Also admiring of the Kuijken team for sustaining interest and performance standards; I now have one volume left to listen to of Kuijken's current seven volumes in his new cantata series.

This weekend has confirmed my view that Bach's instrumental parts in these cantatas are at least as important as the vocal parts (and frequently even more challenging for the musicians). I also, at last, now agree with Kuijken (and others) that in the church cantatas, it makes perfect sense to use just four voices for the choruses and chorales. Whatever the historical rights and wrongs, four voices confirm the intimate chamber music nature of these church cantatas. I will find it difficult to go back to the choirs of Gardiner or Herreweghe.