Bought two good crabs from the Tetbury Market fish man yesterday, and these provided me with two excellent meals yesterday and today. Music was Handel: duets. I dug out an old Hungaraton double-CD pack from the early 1980s with Maria Zadori (very good) and Paul Esswood (not so good). I think I much prefer female altos à la Sara Mingardo to the somewhat hooting sound of male altos such as Esswood. A pity, since the music of Handel's duetti is superb, effervescent and full of invention. Off to Boston tomorrow. Handel and fresh crabs are fitting send-offs.

Lunch was at the Brasserie Roux in the Sofitel at Terminal 5, Heathrow. A good quenelles de brochet; a good aile de raie (but the chef had forgotten to seaon it with salt and pepper). Wine by the glass was a surprisingly excellent Château Neuf du Pape. Dinner was my very own moules marinière (excellent). Music supplied by Diana Damrau singing Mozart arias; she is quite superb, and Mozart is quite a rival to Handel in operatic arias. No higher praise.

Sad how, when it comes to sonatas for violin & piano (of which there are so many) record companies and concert promoters insist on the same hackneyed handful: Beethoven Spring and Kreutzer, Brahms 1, 2 or 3, Franck, Debussy, Ravel. For the really daring, there is Schumann or Fauré. A shame, just having listened to the 43 minutes of Nikolai Medtner's third sonata for violin & piano; a magnificent work that, despite its length, does not outstay its welcome for its four movements.

This evening's performance, by Boris Berezovsky and Vadim Repin, is well-nigh perfect. Both are first class instrumentalists and musicians. They play the sonata as a true duo, with 100% commitment and acute intelligence. It also strikes me how important recording balance and perspective are in such works; very often, the violin -- or the piano -- are too close. Often they are balanced unnaturally. In the Berezovsky-Repin recording, the perspective is natural, and the balance admirable. All praise to Erato for recording and issuing the CD (briefly) before the company was swallowed into the Philistine maw of Warner Music, and Repin, Berezovsky and Medtner were never heard of again in that company.

I have a known allergy to churches and church choirs, so I was surprised to hear myself enjoying Rachmaninov's All-Night Vigil ("Vespers"). But there is something mystical and other-worldly about Russian Orthodox choral singing that I find most attractive.

My mood was maybe enhanced from having eaten half an excellent crab, followed by three giant langoustines cooked on my new electric plancha. Like Russian Orthodox choirs, these three langoustines were simply out of this world.

Dmitri Shostakovich seems to have been a tortured soul, and growing up in the Soviet Union in the 1920s, 30s, 40s and 50s cannot have been all roses and fountains. However, had he been born and raised in Switzerland during the same period, he might have been a less impressive artist. I have no idea whether or not Leila Josefowicz is another tortured soul, but her "Shostakovich" CD of the first violin concerto, and violin & piano sonata, seems to live right under Shostakovich's skin. Every (varied) note of the violin parts sounds like the real thing. One of those (very rare) recodings that suggests you might as well throw away all competitors. Praise in the concerto for Sakari Oramo, and in the violin and piano sonata for John Novacek; both make major contributions to Josefowics's quite masterly recordings of this anguished music. Astonishinly, I have 37 different recordings of Shostakovich's first violin concerto ( a measure of its modern classic status). But, really and truly, I could throw 36 of them away and just keep Josefowicz.

Good Friday, so I took the day off from the office, apart from a trip to Bristol Airport and back. Lunch was a truly excellent pâté de foie gras, followed by a crab. Tomato salad with David Quayle's excellent tomatoes. The thoroughly appropriate wine was an Alsatian Gewürztraminer (Edmond Rentz). In the evening, a purée of aubergines followed by a superb gilt-head sea bream. Evening music supplied by G F Handel: opera arias and duets sung by Sandrine Piau and Sara Mingardo. Who could ask for more?

As a complete and utter contrast, I finished the evening with Tchaikovsky's sixth symphony. To borrow and adapt Stravinsky's quip (applied originally to the person of Rachmaninov): 45 minutes of Russian misery. I love it it, and it stays after all this time as one of my very favourite symphonies. For a start, it is one of the few works where I welcome and enjoy all four movements. I cannot say that of too many symphonies, apart from Schubert's Unfinished and Bruckner's Ninth.

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.