[...] there is a visionary, epic quality to the performance, from the monumental drama of the opening movement, the sea of serenity Furtwangler conjures in the great slow movement, and the seismic crash at the launch of the finale.

[...] there is a visionary, epic quality to the performance, from the monumental drama of the opening movement, the sea of serenity Furtwangler conjures in the great slow movement, and the seismic crash at the launch of the finale.

Stille Nacht, a new compilation from Audite and taken from RIAS Berlin recordings made between 1972-86, is well worth investigating. The 34 tracks form a dramaturgical entity, a cycle beginning with Adrian Willaert's magnificent setting of Mirabile mysterium declaratur hodie. The succeeding selection has been cleverly done, individual pieces following one another quite naturally. The selection ranges from the mysterious nocturnal eve which saw the birth of Christ, before returning to to the evening of His birthday, bringing the cycle full circle. The music ranges from the early sixteenth century (Willaert and Ludwig Senfl) to the present day, but whereas it might be thought to cause too great a stylistic clash, each piece flows well in context. The recordings were all made by the RI AS Chamber Choir under Uwe Gronostay and have been so cleverly remastered that one would never guess the original dates. I found this a perfect Christmas record, of no little musical interest; the concluding Stille Nacht is most affecting (Audite 97.711, 1 hour 14 minutes).

The Amadeus Quartet recorded all the Mozart 'Haydn ' and 'Prussian' Quartets for RIAS in Berlin between 1950 and 1953 , along with the Clarinet Quintet with Heinrich Geuser in 1952 and the String Quintets, K515, 516, 593 and 614, with Cecil Aronowitz in 1953 and 1957 . These performances are more or less contemporary with the studio versions released by DC in a box of 1950s Amadeus Quartet Mozart (474 0002, now download only), which included some of this ensemble's freshest and most unaffected playing. Now Audite has released the RIAS radio recordings of virtually the same repertoire. These are similarly marvellous and in amazing sound (as usual Audite has achieved astonishing results with the master tapes), which is at least as good as that of the DG records from the period. Anyone troubled by the later Amadeus style (including a tendency to over-phrase) and the occasional unpredictability of Norbert Brainin's tone will surely warm to these performances as I did (l prefer their greater spontaneity to the DG stereo studio set). With an interesting note as well as superb remastering this is an exceptional Mozart collection (Audite 21.427, five discs, 5 hours 34 minutes).

Edvard Grieg would prefer that we did not know his Symphony in C minor. But his cover was broken in the late days of the LP when Decca issued a digital recording by Karsten Andersen and the Bergen Philharmonic. The work has not been hidden since, although it is hardly a staple of the repertoire, and is unlikely ever to be. One may well understand the composer's reluctance to have the music played, yet there are some attractive ideas in a symphony that is concise, confident and lyrical, and certainly with numerous trademarks of the Norwegian's style. It's a warm-hearted score, and not a little evocative in places, cast in the traditional four movements and playing for just over half an hour. So it doesn't outstay its welcome; and, anyway, Grieg wasn't about putting on a big show. Rather he invented some pleasing melodies, developed and orchestrated them well if modestly, and his dynamic palette is wide, which Eivind Aadland ensures we appreciate; furthermore, when needed, the composer invests moments of drama to keep the listener engaged and the music on a clear-cut journey.

There is something of a chivalrous fee l to the first movement. If the slow one is a relative disappointment, it's because the very opening is quite lovely but then the music doesn't quite bloom as the initial promise suggests it might. It's tenderly played here, though, as part of a sympathetic and well-prepared reading that continues with a robust, dancing scherzo, itself contrasted with a pastoral trio. The finale drives along with a sense of purpose and direction and also with a sense of emotional urgency, and lightly trips, too, in a very attractive way. The cited stylistic likenesses that are made in Audite's annotation to composers such as Niels Gade, Mendelssohn and Schumann are justified, if applicable more to the former than the two Germans. Yet, ultimately, Grieg is characteristically Grieg in this work, not quite fully formed, doubting himself, but Ieaving us a work that can be much enjoyed.

The excellent music-making and recorded sound is carried into a piece at the polar extreme of Grieg's popularity, the Piano Concerto. Eric Morecambe may have made hay with it more than 40 years ago, with André Previn his willing and brilliant accomplice. Herbert Schuch, with the full support of the orchestra and conductor, gives a fresh and flowing, feisty even, account of music easy to take for granted. There is much that is gentle and tender, too, and the slow movement is especially soulful, beautifully brought off, and the finale has an invigorating impetuousness as well as idyllic romance and final triumph. Throughout, a positive collaboration informs this honest outing for such a familiar concerto. (The earlier volumes in this series were reviewed in July / August 2011 and September 2013).

The third instalment of Audite's Amadeus Quartet recordings, all of them taken from Berlin RIAS broadcasts and dating from the period 1951-57, covers works already available in the Quartet's capable hands, principally in later (stereo) recordings available from DG. Comparisons reveal an impressive level of interpretative consistency, more spontaneous early on perhaps, and with most principal first-movement repeats omitted.

Most of the differences concern the sound quality, which on these RIAS tapes is appealingly intimate. Take Quartet No 18, K464, the opening Allegro, where, as presented here, dynamic contrasts tell with expressive impact but on DG, where the balance suggests listening from the rear of a medium-size concert hall, the effect is less immediate. In this instance the stereo 'pay-off' is minimal compared to the advantage of having the players sound as if they're in the room with you. And with playing as musically sympathetic and stylistically 'on the button' as we're offered here, who can complain?

Viewed overall there is some extraordinarily beautiful playing on offer: the heart-stopping Adagio from the Quintet in D major, K593, with Cecil Aronowitz, for example. The opening of the C major Quintet, K515, is perfection, an amiable but lively Allegro with a spring to its step, while the dialogue with Aronowitz in the Andante could hardly be bettered. And then there's the tragic Adagio that opens the finale of the G minor Quintet, K516, so full of implied regret. The performance of the Clarinet Quintet with Heinrich Geuser is another highlight. I'm not suggesting you replace your DG versions but you could profitably use these marvellous recordings as musically nourishing supplements to them. Superb transfers.

[...] it’s a fascinating take on a masterpiece.

Hier [...] lässt das Trio Testore emotionale Kraft heraus, spannt die melodischen Bögen in versierter Abstimmung der instrumentalen Strukturprogression, dabei auf Nuancen der Timbres achtend. So ist eine programmatisch sinnvolle Kombination melancholisch-produktiver Memoriale entstanden, die musikhistorische Kontexte bewusst macht.

Schuch’s very first entry is made with such precision and power that you sit up in surprise – you know that something special is ahead of you, and so it proves, in one of the best accounts of this constantly recycled concerto that I’ve heard. [...]

An intimate account of the Cello Concerto from Oren Shevlin is tellingly offset by the Fourth Symphony’s high drama, meticulously paced by Heinz Holliger.