DG has put together a very smart reissue here. "Concerto grosso 1" and "Quasi una sonata" for violin and chamber orchestra were originally released in 1989. "Concerto grosso 5" has been rescued from its original 1993 release back-to-back with a Glass piece, and is now united with the other Kremer performances of Schnittke.

Of all the so-called minimalists working today, John Adams is the only one with any good ideas left. Witness this delightful release. The key to Adams's creativity is that he isn't bound by theoretical constraints on what "minimalism" should be. Century Rolls (1995) is a commission by Emanuel Ax, and it was inspired by the composer's listening to a CD recording of an ancient player piano.

Claudio Arrau recorded these concertos twice for Philips, the present performances in 1963, and then again in 1980 with Colin Davis and the Boston Symphony. There's very little to choose between them. Tempos are almost identical, and contrary to what one might expect, the slow movement of the Schumann concerto is actually a bit faster in the later version. Arrau's way with the music is wholly characteristic of the man: serious, even reverential (at the beginning of the Schumann), and played with drop-dead gorgeous tone. The result enhances the stature of both works, but the Grieg in particular. The climax of the finale has an epic grandeur without a hint of bombast that you simply won't find in any other performance. Dohnányi's accompaniments are also distinguished: he lets Arrau lead but isn't afraid to permit the orchestra to assert itself where necessary; and of course the playing of the Concertgebouw is top-notch. If you haven't heard Arrau in this music, it really doesn't matter which of his recordings you wind up with, but do try to get at least one of them.

With all of Deutsche Grammophon, Decca, and Philips catalogs to choose from, why did producers pick for re-release Christoph von Dohnányi and the Cleveland Orchestra's recordings of Schumann's Second and Third symphonies? Among many others, they had Karajan and the Berlin, Solti with the Vienna, and Haitink with the Concertgebouw, so why pick Dohnányi and the Cleveland? Because they are digital recordings? Perhaps: the very word "digital" is still a potent talisman for listeners looking for a first and perhaps only recording.

This is an excellent Mahler Ninth. It does not feature the tortured anguish of Bernstein (Sony & DG), the elegant pain of Giulini (DG), or the stately gloom of Walter (Sony), but, like Libor Pesek (Virgin Classics), it successfully straddles more than a few fences. But "straddling fences" does not imply it's middle-of-the-road–it is, in fact, more middle-of-the-night. Dohnányi often makes inner voices turn disruptive, yet coaxes the strings to sound both sweet and eerie in their heavy use of portamento; and he is scrupulous in extracting just about every last meaningful detail in this monumental work.

Webern's "Symphony" (op. 21) is like light passing through a slowly revolving prism, revealing irridescent hues you've never seen before. Following his "Passacaglia" (op. 1), which clarifies but doesn't break with the Romanticism of Brahms, Webern composed four masterful orchestral miniatures. "6 Pieces" (op. 6) and "5 Pieces" (op. 10) are incredibly brief, in the atonal style pioneered by Webern's teacher Schoenberg. They met with quite different fates – the "6 Pieces" provoked a "Le Sacre"-style riot at its Vienna premiere in 1913, and Webern fled into hiding. The "5 Pieces" wasn't publicly performed until 1924, at a festival in Zurich, 10 years after it was written. It was widely acclaimed, establishing Webern's international reputation.

This is a grand, satisfying performance on almost every count. Its stature allows me for the moment to put aside the baggage of all earlier recordings and assess it on its own merits alone. In the first place, following on his successful Rheingold (Decca, 11/95), Dohnanyi conducts a well-paced, thought-through reading that at once creates dramatic excitement and attends to the longer view. From the opening storm right through to the Magic Fire Music there’s a welcome sense of forward movement everywhere, except in the middle of Act 2 where in places Dohnanyi slows down inordinately, allowing the score to become momentarily becalmed.

Christoph von Dohnanyi is one of those conductors, like Wolfgang Sawallisch, Rafael Kubelik and Josef Keilberth, who were relatively ignored by the journalist school of music critics and later, usually after they are dead, lauded to the skies as undiscovered geniuses of the podium. Well, Maestro Dohnanyi is alive and well and with us and still conducting, mostly at the Zurich opera, and it is a good thing that his performances are being filmed, if not recorded, for posterity because he is a giant of the operatic podium, especially in the operas of Richard Strauss and Richard Wagner.

This is a taut, dense Mahler 6, missing all the angst that one finds in the recordings of Bernstein or Tennstedt. But this "tragic" symphony is much less frantic than his others, and Dohnanyi's interpretation, so similar to Szell's with the Cleveland Orchestra, is the way I feel the symphony ought to be played. This ranks in my top three or four Mahler 6, along with Abbado Berlin, Karajan, and Szell.

This is a marvel. Save for a needlessly patronizing booklet-note, and for some unexpectedly poor brass tuning at a climactic point of DEATH AND TRANSFIGURATION (the third of this disc's pieces), it would be flawless. While Dohnanyi fortunately takes his time over all these tone-poems (METAMORPHOSEN becomes insufferable if its conductor permits any suggestion of impatience), he never drags. Rather, one simply feels - as so often with, say, Solti's interpretations - that details (for instance, some string counterpoint in DON JUAN which most conductors couldn't be bothered to clarify) have been made freshly audible, thanks to the VPO's fierce virtuosity and to its helmsman's long-range vision of the music.

Christoph von Dohnányi served as conductor of the famed Cleveland Orchestra from 1984 to 2002 and the rapport between conductor and orchestra produced some of the finest orchestral playing in this country. This recording of the Shostakovich Symphony No. 10 paired with Witold Lutosl'awski's homage to Bartok, the Musique funèbre offer the reason for the magic of this combination of ensemble and conductor. The Shostakovich is rich in sonorities and in first desk playing and von Dohnányi's control over these mighty forces makes this an immensely intense recording. The sound produced by Cleveland (captured by Decca Engineers) is huge but never less than beautiful.

Christoph von Dohnányi’s lean and athletic Dvorák Symphony No. 6 is at the opposite pole from the warm, romantic style typified by Karel Ancerl (type Q6828 in Search Reviews). However, both approaches are valid, as Dvorák’s great symphony is at once a heartfelt work with strong classical underpinnings. The combination of Dohnányi’s energetic direction and the Cleveland Orchestra’s exactingly precise playing makes for a crisp and vibrant rendition, highlighted by the sharp-pointed timpani (well captured by Decca’s engineers).

Having never liked Mahler's Fifth as much as 1-4 and the 6th, I approached this recording with some trepidation. To my ears, Boulez was too cerebral, Bernstein too hysterical, and Barbirolli too rhythmically loose. But Dohnanyi, one of the most underrated conductors of our time (the others being Chailly and Mackerras) gives here an outstanding performance of the symphony, finding an incredibly valid mid-point between lyrical warmth and muscular power. My one complaint was the second movement, which is not quite as frightening as one might like, yet the way Dohnanyi finishes his phrases and connects the disparate sections of each movement leave one breathless with wonder.