We will never know how Paganini played his 24 caprices. Looking at them dispassionately, they are 24 studies in different bowing techniques, different sonorities of the violin, and exactitude in intonation, especially in double-stopping passages. Paganini exhalts in cross-string bowing and in highlighting the difference between the violin's sonorous G string and brilliant E string. Too often nowadays the capricci are played in race-track style, like Formula One drivers trying to clip 1.2 seconds off the previous contestant. This may have been what Paganini envisaged, but the abundance of tempo markings such as andante, moderato, maestoso, lento and posato suggests that sheer speed was not the aim of all the parts of all the capricci. A pity we have no recordings of him.

I suspect that he may have played the 24 much like Tanja Becker-Bender, on a new CD from Hyperion. One is conscious with Miss B-B of the fact that the caprices were studies in violin sound and technique. Unless the music calls for it, Miss B-B plays accurately, deliberately and with an admirable intelligence. 'Some of her playing is almost a master class in different bowing techniques (much as Paganini had in mind for much of the time, one suspects). I enjoyed this thoughtful, intelligent and technically immaculate CD.

A pity Hyperion did not think more about the recording. We stand around three metres from Miss B-B; too close, the same common defect with solo violin recordings. And either the microphone favoured Miss B-B's rght hand side (G string) or the recording was too bass-heavy, since the G strng sound predominates for much of the time. This is, of course, frequently in line with Paganini's intentions; but too much so.

An Elgar evening, for a change. First the Maggini Quartet with Peter Donohue in the piano quintet. I love the first two movements,  but the finale hectors a bit and, to my mind, is not at the same level of inspiration. Then on to Simone Lamsma playing Elgar salon pieces. Very appealing music and playing; Lamsma keeps things moving and actually sounds as though she likes what she is playing. The pieces are technically undemanding but, like all recitals of a series of short pieces, call for a broad palette of bowing and sound. Ms Lamsma does well. Both discs come from the mighty Naxos company. What would we do without Naxos?

Back from a good trip to France (Nice and Nîmes). Celebrated my return with more Rachmaninov, the second symphony again; this is a work I really like and one that really speaks to me. The recording chosen this time was that conducted by Ivan Fischer (Budapest Festival Orchestra), and really well recorded (Channel Classics). In this symphony I like Pletnev, and the Sanderling 1956 recording. But, just maybe, it is for the Fischer recording I'll reach for in the future.

Otherwise, more Bach cantatas, that are becoming my daily bread (along with Handel). The latest very fine CD sees Herreweghe back in action. And although I have eaten shoals of sea bream in my life, today was the first time ever I actually bought and cooked one. Truly excellent. I think the sea bream will now join Bach and Handel as part of my staple diet.

Interesting, and enjoyable, today listening to early recordings of short pieces played by Fritz Kreisler. The first batch dates from 1904 (when Kreisler was 29) and the second batch from 1911 (aged 36). We can admire Kreisler's seductive tone (even through the swish and pops of the early acoutic recordings) but it is sense of rubato, his style, his incredibly versatile bowing, and his extraordinary trills that really make their mark. Not to mention his legendary double stops, where each voice is given its due and the intonation is always exactly precise. One understands why Kreisler was hailed as the Emperor of the Violin (and why Heifetz was so fascinated by his playing). What a contrast the sound of Kreisler must have been to audiences accustomed to the drier and less lascivious sound of the 19th century violinists (and compare, for example, Jan Kubelik). Kreisler's sound is 100% unique, and also 100% Viennese. They don't make violinists like this any more, alas. And listening to Kreisler playing Kreisler back in 1911, one understands why Heifetz, who recorded pratically anything that was good for the violin, went somewhat light when it came to recording Kreisler pieces. Fritz Kreisler was simply sans pareil.

Continuing with the golden oldies, my current reading of a biography of Sergei Rachmaninov had me listening to his piano playing. Rachmaninov was one of the great pianists of the twentieth century, along with Cortot, Fischer and Richter. A shame that, because of the times and his unsettled abode, he was not able to record more. Ended the evening with Rachmaninov's second symphony; the1955 mono recording by Kurt Sanderling and the Leningrad Philharmonic (kindly supplied by Lee) is indeed a classic of the twentieth century. And I love the music.

A most pleasant 3 1/2 hours today spent listening to my new purchase of Handel's Alcina, with the same caste I heard in Poissy in September 2007 (the recording was made in Italy at around the same time). Time goes by pleasantly with Handel. Joyce DiDonato is magnificent as Alcina – she's a fine vocal actress as well as singer – and Maïte Beaumont is as appealing as she was on stage in Poissy as Ruggiero. A fortunate purchase and a good addition to my (pretty large) collection of Handel operas.

I became very familiar indeed with Beethoven's Diabelli Variations Op 120 when I bought an LP of the work played by Wilhelm Backhaus back in the 1950s. In those days of few recordings, the LP was played over and over and over again. I still like Backhaus playing it; he has a no-nonsense approach to playing that reminds me of Beethoven (not that I ever heard Beethoven play).

Since those Backhaus days I have tried numerous other performances including, a few weeks ago, the new recording by Stephen Kovacevich much admired by the critics. Somehow, after listening to that admirable new recording, I concluded the Diabelli had had their day with me. Just too familiar. Then this evening I listened to Sviatolav Richter in a 1988 public performance in Russia; and fell in love with the work all over again. What an incredible encyclopaedia of musical wisdom! Richter's playing is pure fascination. Once again, his concentration on the work takes the listener beyond all thoughts of striving for effect, or beautiful pianism. A recording for the top 50 of of all recordings, or whatever. That particular CD is rounded off with a truly classic performance of Mozart's K 379 sonata for piano and violin where Richter is joined by Oleg Kagan, one of his preferred partners.

Back from a two day "holiday" in Ouistreham, clutching various wines and food. Greeted this morning by the arrival of a four CD pack of public performances by Sviatislav Richter, one of my top half dozen pianists. Interspersed with samplings of pâté de tête, museau de porc, côtes de veau, premières côtes de Blaye and other delicacies brought back in triumph from the shores of Normandy, I indulged in Richter playing Rachmaninov and Schubert (the Beethoven - Diabelli - disc and Tchaikovsky still await listening). It is quite ridiculous, and an indication of one of the many things wrong with Western society in 2009, that the four Richter CDs (Regis) cost me slightly less than one supermarket chicken.

Richter is my kind of musician. You sense strongly that he is playing what he wants to play, what he loves, and is playing the pieces in the way he thinks they ought to sound. The sixth Schubert moment musical lasts for nearly 12 minutes with Richter — something of an heure musicale; around five minutes longer than with anyone else. But when Richter is playing: you believe.

So a good Saturday, thanks to Normandy and Richter. The Normandie Wines shop in Ouistreham was quite a find, as was the Relais Routiers restaurant just a few metres from the port.

Very large crab this weekend; quite enough for three meals! Also managed to buy some John Dory fillets in Cirencester; quite delicious.

For music, there was Henryk Wieniawski, whom I like very much since he is melodic, elegant and sophisticated. Admired once again the violin sound of Corey Cerovsek (accompanied on this Wieniawski recital CD kindly supplied by Lee, by Katja Cerovsek -- presumably a sister). Cerovsek does not have a broad palette of colours -- it's all very beautiful -- but he does play elegantly and makes a nice sound.

Cerovsek's counterpart in the vocal world is Carolyn Sampson. Her recital of airs and songs by Purcell is a CD that I do not file away under "P" but keep next to my player. It is always a breath of fresh (musical) air, sung by a very atractive voice.

Evening listening thanks to two Grand Old Men of the CD era: a Naxos disc of Rachmaninov, and a Harmonia Mundi disc of Bach.

The Rachmaninov was played by the suave Benno Moiseiwitsch and once again had me marvelling at the current state-of-the-art with transfers from 78s of the 1920s, 30s and 40s. Ward Marston is a kind of genius, once again. And Rachmaninov satisfies.

The Bach cantatas, again, had me pleased with modern recording technology (when it is good). Bach cantatas are tricky to balance, and all too often the solo voices are given microphones of their own which cause them to float, disembodied, somewhere apart from the accompanying instruments. Harmonia Mundi's latest disc, sung by the ever-reliable Bernarda Fink, is an object lesson in just how things should be balanced, with the voice well integrated with the baroque band The Freiburger Barockorchester is directed by its leader, Petra Müllejans. The three cantatas for alto voice — BWV 32 Geist und Seele, BWV 169 Gott soll allein mein Herze haben, and BWV 170 Vergnügte Ruh — are high-class Bach, particularly BWV 169. Ms Fink is no spring chicken; my first recording of her voice dates from 1989. But she is intelligent, accurate and a pleasure to listen to. All three cantatas feature a prominent organ part; as played here, it is far from the noisy beast that normally has me fleeing for the nearest exit; in fact, it is quite pleasant to listen to.

This evening's spaghetti al sugo, al modo di Bologna was truly excellent in its third warm-up.

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.