I do not have too many prejudices (Me? Prejudices?) But I am wary of singers who sing in a language that is not their own, and I am wary of male altos (would you be comfortable meeting a male alto on a lonely street at night?) So I was both surprised and delighted to enjoy most thoroughly Gérard Lesne singing solo alto cantatas by the Bach family (Johann Michael, Johann Christoph, Johann Sebastian, plus an interjection from Georg Melchior Hoffmann, in a piece long attributed to J S Bach).

This is good music, very well sung with superb diction, and ably backed by Il Seminario Musicale (Naïve. 2001). My pilgrimage through my Bach vocal collection commenceth. If I eat and sleep but rarely, I'll finish around 2016.

I have kilos of CDs of Bach cantatas and I really must begin to sort out some kind of priority ranking. Not all Bach cantatas are of equal quality, and certainly not all performances are of equal merit. I started today with an excellent example: cantatas BWV180, 49 and 115 performed by the excellent Ensemble Baroque de Limoges directed by the equally excellent Christophe Coin (Astrée Auvidis E 8530, recorded 1993).

All three cantatas are 24 carat Bach, and Coin has a first-rank line-up of soloists: Barbara Schlick, Andreas Scholl, Christoph Prégardien and Gotthold Schwarz (a very good bass). First-class solo voices are very important in Bach, and frequently an area of weak points in many recordings. Not so here. Coin uses a small choir rather than the econo-choirs favoured by modern accountants and performance managers. I prefer my choruses and chorales sung by small choirs.

I note there are two other CDs of Bach cantatas from the same forces; I have ordered them today without hesitation.

Back home with Christmas out of the way for another year. Most unusually for me, I had a Mozart evening. The symphonies number 39 and 41 (Klemperer, of course) and the string quintets K 515 and 516 (Grumiaux and friends, of course). Highly enjoyable. I haven't listened to Mozart for quite a while. Criminal neglect.

A Tale of Two Cities. In New York in November 2010, Leonidas Kavakos and the New York Philharmonic conducted by Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos performed the Tchaikovsky violin concerto (which I downloaded to listen to). It was a bravura performance, greeted by ecstatic audience noise after both the first and last movements (in this concerto, the New Yorkers didn't get the chance between the slow movement and the finale, played without a break). Kavakos and the orchestra both played at white heat and the old warhorse fair galloped along.

In Berlin in April 1939, Georg Kulenkampff and the Berlin Opera House Orchestra conducted by Arther Rother performed the same concerto (well transferred by Michael Dutton). Alas, Berlin won by many furlongs. This is a very well played and very musical performance of this much-performed concerto. I enjoyed it greatly, even with the absence of the somewhat hysterical razzmatazz that marked the New Yorkers. Both Kavakos and Kulenkampff are on my list of preferred violinists. But Kavakos and the New Yorkers should not have flogged the old warhorse to the extent they did.

Schubert's B flat sonata D 960 is definitely one of my top works for listening to. I got to know it decades ago via an LP with Clifford Curzon. I now have thirteen recordings of the piece which is, for me, at the very peak of piano sonatas. Recently The Gramophone magazine ran a brief survey of the 113 (!) known recordings. That by Wilhelm Kempff came out top, so I took it off the shelf and listened to it again. For my taste, it's very good but with a slight air of routine; it doesn't sound as if it were that special a piece for Kempff on that day. Curzon is still very good (especially in the second movement) but, for me, his playing of the piece is too studied and too precious, and he does not make the all-important (for me) exposition repeat in the first movement.

I have previously praised the recording by Leif Ove Andsnes so I took that off the shelf. I still like it very much. Andsnes plays with a simplicity and naturalness that makes one imagine Schubert is in the room. Much of the music is resigned and world-weary and does not need elaborate pointing by the pianist. Andsnes makes the first movement repeat (as does Richter) and I think it is very necessary for the overall form of the work (presumably so did Schubert, which is why he wrote some extra bars as lead-in to the repeat). I must go back to Richter (a performance in Moscow that I like) and also re-sample the recording by "Joyce Hatto" -- who was actually playing I know not, but I remember liking the performance a few years ago.

Albert Sammons was a major violinist. Almost entirely self-taught, he shunned an international career, concert tours and recording marathons -- like many other highly talented artists. Being little known does not automatically mean being of little value. The admirable Pristine Audio has issued rare recordings of Sammons playing the Beethoven Kreutzer sonata (1926) and the Fauré first sonata (1938). Both performances are admirable. I am not usually a fan of the Kreutzer, but I love Sammons' drive here; he reminds me of Isabelle Faust in his refusal to draw attention to his playing and away from the music. Although much of the violin playing is extraordinary, it's the music you remember. Which is as it should be in these works.

Naxos re-issues have now reached Jascha Heifetz's 1950 recordings (transfers by Mark Obert-Thorn) so it is good to find a new excuse to listen to Mr Heifetz playing the violin. The first of these reissues contains the Tchaikovsky violin concerto (Phiharmonia conducted by Walter Susskind, 1950), the Conus concerto (1952 with Izler Solomon), Sarastate's Zigeunerweisen (1951 with Steinberg) and the Korngold concerto (1953 with Wallenstein). The transfers seem to be excellent, though I have not compared them head-to-head with the RCA transfers of 15 years or so ago.

The Romantic repertoire suited Heifetz down to the ground, and he is in his element in all these works. No one, ever, has been able to sound like Heifetz, and the palette of sounds he draws from one small violin remains extraordinary. The current CD also suggests some of the drawbacks from Heifetz recordings: his preference for back-up groups or accompanists rather than partners, and his insistence on being placed well forward. Heifetz must have been mystified by Adolf Busch's rejection of his own studio recording of the Beethoven violin concerto in 1942 because Busch and his violin were "recorded too forward" (Busch had been made to stand on a wooden box next to the microphone).

No matter in the repertoire on the current CD, however. The works by Tchaikovsky, Conus, Sarasate and Korngold can get by with the likes of Susskind, Steinberg, Wallenstein and Solomon waving distant batons and close-up Heifetz playing at his magical best. One can also admire Heifetz's sense of line and phrasing, and the fact that his unwillingness to indulge in sentimental lingering gives all these works a welcome sense of form and cohesion. Heifetz eases up slightly for tender or sentimental passages, but he never wallows as do so many other violinists.

I have made the acquaintance of the playing of the pianist Eduard Erdmann (courtesy of six CDs from Ronald). One of the unfortunate large band of European musicians who came on steam during the years 1930-50 when the time was not propitious to make an international reputation -- especially if you were German or Russian. In terms of piano tradition, Erdmann belongs with Arthur Schnabel, Edwin Fischer and Elly Ney. Along with Alfred Cortot, he is a pianist for those who value musical performance above all, with 100% digital accuracy being less important than 100% musical credibility. Erdmann has a beautiful sound (he is billed on one CD as being a "Poet of the Keyboard"). Maybe he plays a bit too beautifully? There are players (Jascha Heifetz comes to mind) where you can too often find yourself marvelling at their playing, rather than at the music. With artists such as Fischer, Ney, Klemperer or Adolf Busch -- to pick a few random examples -- one marvels at the music.

Back to Bruckner. The admirable Pristine Audio has just released a transfer of Bruckner's seventh symphony (1949, Berlin Philharmonic conducted by Furtwängler, a performance I have known and loved for many, many years). As usual, one can only listen with admiration to the "new" sound on this latest transfer. And one can also admire the fact that, in 1949 and only some 48 months after the end of the second world war, with the virtual destruction of the major German cities, that 100 or so men were able to produce a performance such as this. Light and hope amongst the ruins. Now, Mr Rose, for a transfer of Bruckner's eighth with the same forces (either the 1944 or 1949 version). Then my personal Bruckner canon of 4, 7, 8 and 9 will be complete.

Violin Concertos by Britten and Korngold

Wheels turn, and what was once down starts to go up. Interesting on Tuesday 30th November to find the BBC broadcasting both the Britten violin concerto (James Ehnes) and the Korngold (Jack Liebeck). Written in 1939 (Britten) and 1947 (Korngold) the two concertos are almost contemporaneous, and both suffered the wrath of the critics who were all hung up on the compositional style du jour as epitomised by figures such as Dallapiccola, Nono, Boulez, Stockhausen, et al. I remember distinctly sniffy comments concerning the Shostakovich violin concerto after its premier in Britain around 1957 -- of the sort "well, Russian composers have to write this people's stuff, you know". Well, the composers du jour of the middle of the twentieth century are definitely on the down-circle of the wheel, and the people's stuff coming up. It's good to see Korngold and Britten going up; I have a soft spot for both concertos, though I am ambivalent about much of Britten's music (with important exceptions).

Why do we not hear ... many works that, for no apparent reason, are seldom if never played? More specifically, this evening, why does no one play the violin concerto in G minor of Reinhold Gliere? Almost finished in 1956, it's a lovely, autumnal work with echoes of Glazunov and Rachmaninov. Lush melodies, well written, enjoyable to listen to. But pretty well never played. I cannot discover an easily available modern recording of the work. The one I have and listened to this evening was played (very well indeed) by Boris Goldstein in an old Russian recording with a Moscow orchestra (LP transfer). The compositional style is pretty unfashionable for 1956 but, after well over half a century, should fashion matter?

Food this evening was a three-egg omelette stuffed with girolles. Absolutely delicious.

10th November 1910 was the premier of Elgar's violin concerto in London (soloist was Fritz Kreisler). Ten days later, the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra played the concerto in Bournemouth. 10th November 2010 the orchestra played it yet again, with Simone Lamsma as soloist and David Hill (who is he?) as conductor.

It's been a lucky concerto in recordings, right from 1928 with Albert Sammons. I really enjoyed the Simone Lamsma performance; she plays with deep commitment and puts her heart into it. Lamsma has already well earned her Elgar credentials with a CD of Elgar salon pieces (plus the violin and piano sonata). On 10th November 2010 in Poole she really carries you along. Helped by the orchestra that really knows this music; this is not an occasion when you need Leonard Bernstein conducting the Israel Philharmonic. I now have to add this recording to my favourite four or five (and the second by a Dutch girl, since I much liked the off-air recording by Isabelle van Keulen a few years ago). A lucky concerto when it comes to recordings. As I have remarked (when talking of Thomas Zehetmair's performance) this is one of those concertos where the orchestra and conductor also play a vital role. Lucky 10th November.

Lovers of violin playing owe much to the Czechs, the Slovaks, the Hungarians and the Romanians. Returning back home, it made for a very pleasant evening listening to Antal Szalai and Joszef Balog playing 15 pieces arranged by Leopold Auer (another Hungarian). All of the pieces are well-known (apart perhaps from Auer's own Rhapsodie Hongroise Op 2) and all are attractive. Tchaikovsky, Schumann, Chopin, Wieniawski, Rubinstein, Achron, Paganini et al. all ripple happily past us, and Szalai has plenty of opportunity to show off a very fine ability to play a true cantabile. A happy musical evening with a strong Hungarian flavour. Szalai impresses as someone who just puts his violin under his chin and plays. No posturing, no striving for effect, no histrionics. And he and Balog certainly sound as if they have that music in their veins.

Simone Kermes and Colori d'Amore

A pretty astonishing new CD from Simone Kermes, in excellent partnership with Claudio Osele and Le Musiche Nove. What amazes is the fact that a) so much of the music is outstanding and b) so much of the music is "first recording". Alessandro Scarlatti, Antonio Caldara and Giovanni Bononcini predominate, though we also come across people such as Antonio Maria Bononcini. What an incredible period for musical compositions was that of 1690-1740! Especially by the Italians (not to forget J.S. Bach and Handel). Kermes sings with her usual verve and aplomb; the music sounds as if it were written especially for her.

"You get what you pay for" is not always true, at least not in the case of CDs. Brilliant Classics' CD of three sonatas for violin and piano by George Enescu contains thoroughly idiomatic playing by Antal Szalai (violin) and Jozsef Balog. The recording, and the recording balance, are exemplary (the engineers of the recent Wigmore Hall Live CD of Ibragimova and Tiberghien should take careful note and strive to emulate). At Brilliant Classics' £5 price, this CD is an excellent buy.

It is becoming a little disconcerting to realise just how much better many things were done during the first half of the twentieth century in so far as the Central European music repertoire is concerned (Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Wagner and Bruckner). After 1950, things progressed in leaps and bounds in terms of recording technique and, in particular, instrumental technique. But the ability to play music naturally? For this, all too often, we have to go back to the archives.

A thought prompted by my recent re-listenings to Furtwängler conducting Bruckner and Scubert in the 1940s and 50s, and now with my acquisition of a CD box in which Edwin Fischer plays 14.5 hours of Bach, Schubert, Mozart and Brahms. When it came to piano technique, Fischer was no Vladimir Horowitz. But then, when it came to playing Bach, Beethoven, Schubert and Mozart, Horowitz was no Fischer. In the piano world, Edwin Fischer, Elly Ney and Arthur Schnabel were at the summit in this repertoire, just as Bruno Walter, Otto Klemperer, Willem Mengelberg, Hans Knappersbusch and Wilhelm Furtwängler dominate the orchestral scene. Since then, things have become slicker, technically more reliable, more widely promoted. But better performances of much of Bach, Beethoven, Scbubert and Mozart? In my view: rarely. About time Adolf Busch recordings were re-jigged in good sound. Advances in sound restoration by the likes of Michael Dutton, Ward Marston, Mark Obert-Thorn, Andrew Rose, et al promise to open up this veiled promised land for everyday listening. More Fischer (EMI transfers are so-so at the best). More Adolf Busch. More Elly Ney. More Alfed Cortot. More Georg Kulenkampff!

The recording industry created expectations of complete technical perfection by instrumentalists, singers and orchestras. Thus those "take 180" tracks, and recordings of one concerto that took 2-3 days work for a 35 minute piece. Modern musicians are petrified of any error -- encouraged by reviewers such as the BBC critic recently who eliminated Janine Jansen's superb performance of Britten's Violin Concerto because it appears Jansen miscalculated one (ONE)note towards the end of the first movement. So goodbye Janine! And I can't even hear the miscalculated note, unlike Herr Beckmesser. We have talked ourselves into a ridiculous situation.

The duo partnership between Alina Ibragimova and Cédric Tiberghien is a very fine one, and their second Wigmore Hall Live disc of Beethoven violin & piano sonatas contains some world-beating playing. The recording, however, has a bad balance between piano and violin; when the piano is playing softly, it can always be heard. But when Ibragimova plays softly (which she often does) you have to strain your ears. We need 15% more violin, and 15% less piano. The violin sound, on the higher strings, is a little bright and steely. A great shame. The duo should hire some better sound engineers.

This blog is rapidly becoming a fan club for Pristine Audio, Andrew Rose, and Wilhelm Furtwängler. So here we go again. I downloaded the new transfer of Furtwängler and the Vienna Philharmonic playing Bruckner's 4th Symphony (broadcast tapes, October 1951, Stuttgart). The sound is little short of incredible, with most of the coughs and splutterings cleared up, into the bargain. Now, for probably the first time, one can just sit back and enjoy the music and the performance without having to make many allowances. Good times are here. I now sit and wait for comparable transfers of Furtwängler in Bruckner's 7th and 8th Symphonies. And then, quite frankly, one can throw away all other versions.