Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3, Sibelius: Symphony No. 5; Glenn Gould (soloist), Herbert von Karajan (conductor), Berlin Philharmonic (Sony)

This is a record that never happened. When super-smooth Herbert von Karajan led super-crank Glenn Gould in his Berlin debut in May 1957, the conductor said their concert would be "equalled by very few in our lifetime," while the pianist complained of Karajan's "obsessive concern with legato phrasing." Despite such differences, maestro and soloist agreed that making a record was more important than playing a live gig. Over the next 25 years they talked of booking a studio, but could not agree which of them would have the final edit.

Dredged from Berlin Philharmonic archives, this radio tape of their first concert is the more electrifying for the absence of after-care. This is not so much a musical collaboration as a heated conversation. Karajan, a big-sound romantic, bends his tempi to Gould's classical intimations, while the pianist stays preternaturally alert to holding his balance against the band. Every phrase they make has a singularity in time and space, and Karajan's second-half Sibelius is chilled by the prior experience. This is music-making of epic quality, a legend, if not a record.

NORMAN LEBRECHT,

(LONDON) EVENING STANDARD

Violin concertos by Ludwig van Beethoven and Franz Clement; Rachel Barton Pine (soloist), José Serebrier (conductor), Royal Philharmonic (Cedilla)

Franz Clement was the soloist for whom Beethoven wrote his violin concerto in 1806, having heard Clement play his own concerto the year before on the night the "Eroica" Symphony received its premiere. Clement's lack of rehearsal made a hash of Beethoven's masterpiece, prompting the composer to withdraw it for revision. Clement's concerto vanished for rather longer -- until a scholarly edition two centuries later prompted a Chicago soloist to make this, its first recording. How revealing is that? Immensely.

Both concertos are in the same key, D major, and many of the phrases that we think of as typically Beethoven are presaged in his friend's work, particularly in its rondo finale. As played by the enterprising Rachel Barton Pine, Clement's concerto is attractive, propulsive and well worth a live date. The blight on her record, however, is a companion account of the Beethoven concerto taken at a tempo the wrong side of humdrum -- a decision that cannot have belonged to the able conductor José Serebrier -- and with cadenzas of leaden banality. Pine almost manages to bring Beethoven down to Clement's level, which is what Clement tried to do in the first place.

NORMAN LEBRECHT,

(LONDON) EVENING STANDARD