This is the kind of issue which may not seem immediately attractive to some collectors but will be a must for others. I'm thinking, of course, of (in the first case) the uncommitted seeker after a new Mozart piano concerto issue and (in the second) someone who is already collecting the Mitsuko Uchida/Jeffrey Tate series. The reason for any doubts is that what we have here is early Mozart—indeed, Erik Smith's booklet essay is entitled ''Mozart's First Concertos''. The 'No. 5' in D major, written when he was 17, is in fact the first piano concerto that was entirely his own composition, and was composed for the harpsichord rather than the fortepiano.

With mezzo-soprano Magdalena Kozena and pianist Mitsuko Uchida, two world stars join hands on L'extase, a collection of songs by Claude Debussy and Olivier Messiaen. Debussy was Messiaen's life-long idol, and their songs are equally colourful, sumptuous, sensual, and occasionally exotic. The album derives its name from the sultry song 'C'est l'extase langoureuse' from Debussy's Ariettes oubliees, and this song cycle is combined with his Chansons de Bilitis and Cinq poemes des Baudelaires, while Messiaen is represented by the second book of his Poemes pour Mi, a declaration of love for his first wife Claire Delbos.

It's one measure of a great performance that it focuses the attention so entirely on the music that you forget everything else. Another is that it banishes all thought of other performances from your mind. That both circumstances should apply with a work as familiar and over-recorded as the 'Emperor' is cause for celebration. This is just such a performance - which by definition presupposes such a perfect a unanimity of approach on the parts of conductor and soloist that one almost forgets (and how ironically!) that this is a concerto at all.

Debussy's Études are really the only set that deserves to be put beside Chopin's. What makes them so special? Like his, they are truly "practice pieces," systematically exploring various aspects of keyboard technique. But at the same time, they are poetic works of art, full of fantasy, charm, and musical invention. Uchida's recording is almost universally regarded as the finest version of these works to appear in modern times. Her playing combines effortless virtuosity with pianistic precision, keeping the music's artistic and pedagogical tendencies in a state of exquisite tension. This disc also established Uchida's claim to be recognized as one of the most interesting and talented pianists now active. You need to hear it.

Something about the key of D major seems to trigger off Mitsuko Uchida's adrenalin. The energy level in the Rondo and the earlier of the sonatas here is accordingly high, and…she has the technique and temperament to make musical sense of her chosen tempos… It is the long variation movement concluding the D major Sonata…where Uchida achieves marvels of shading within a steadily maintained basic pulse… B flat major draws more serenity out of Uchida. In the Sonata, K570, her energy is applied in all the right places and her response to the tonal scheme of the first movement development is especially acute.

The three sonatas on this disc were all written in 1777-78, and mark Mozart's attainment of a new level of skill and sophistication in his writing for the piano. Uchida's accounts, recorded in 1985, midway through her survey of the composer's complete piano sonatas for Philips, are sympathetic and nicely shaped. Some pianists have found more vehemence and darkness in the A minor sonata, K. 310, and more elegance in the two major-key works, but the balanced, essentially lyrical approach Uchida brings to the music works very well. This is soulful playing, of an intimacy not often encountered these days, and the recording does it full justice.

Uchida's performances seem completely natural as if that is the way the performances were intended. Not a point of cunning escapes her. Yet there is never a trace of self-consciousness in her point-making, not even in the heightened intensity of the tragic B minor Adagio. It is Mozart at his purest.

Mitsuko Uchida is one of the finest interpreters of Mozart's piano music. She brings to this music a lightness and delicacy that fits it perfectly. Uchida plays with an incredible humility. Her performances are never overbearing - she offers subtlety and emotion rather than force. Both lyrical and expressive, she uses her brilliant technique to play the virtuoso parts of the sonatas, yet never seems to be showing off. Her nimble fingers give the most attractive ornaments to these pieces, yet, again, these ornaments are not gratuitous - they fit perfectly with the tone and colours of the works.

There is no doubt that Mitsuko Uchida is one of the leading Mozart pianists. And that fact alone gives this release credibility. But if we look deeper we find that this release is a magnificent example of her ability.

There is no doubt that Mitsuko Uchida is one of the leading Mozart pianists. And that fact alone gives this release credibility. But if we look deeper we find that this release is a magnificent example of her ability.

The virtues of Uchida's playing are the ones classically associated with Mozart: grace, fluidity, restraint, and a certain playful quality. Those are all on display in these performances of Mozart concertos from the 1770s, early in the composer's career. Uchida's style is more concerned with small details than with large spaces, and this puts her somewhat out of the mainstream in a work like the Piano Concerto No. 9 in E flat major, K. 271 – many performances recorded since the 1992 date of Uchida's version have emphasized the way a vast architecture suddenly appeared in the mind of the young composer. Still, there are many lovely details, often connected to Uchida's way of bringing out the various wrinkles in the concerto's left-hand parts.

There is no doubt that Mitsuko Uchida is one of the leading Mozart pianists. And that fact alone gives this release credibility. But if we look deeper we find that this release is a magnificent example of her ability. Full marks must go to Phillips for bringing this major project together. The recording concept and organisation by Erik Smith and Rupert Faustle at the Henry Wood Hall London give us magnificent piano sound. The recordings were made during the 1980s. The set is recorded digitally and the sound is excellent in tone and balance.

The greatest of Mozart's wind serenades and the toughest of Alban Berg's major works might seem an unlikely pairing, but in an interview included with the sleeve notes for this release, Pierre Boulez points up their similarities. Both works are scored for an ensemble of 13 wind instruments (with solo violin and piano as well in the Berg) and both include large-scale variations as one of their movements - and Boulez makes the comparisons plausible enough in these lucid performances. It's rare to hear him conducting Mozart, too, and if the performance is a little brisker and more strait-laced than ideal, the EIC's phrasing is a model of clarity and good taste. It's the performance of the Berg, though, that makes this such an important issue; both soloists, Mitsuko Uchida and Christian Tetzlaff, are perfectly attuned to Boulez's approach - they have given a number of performances of the Chamber Concerto before - and the combination of accuracy and textural clarity with the highly wrought expressiveness that is the essence of Berg's music is perfectly caught.

Two masterful Schubert interpreters, tenor Mark Padmore & pianist Mitsuko Uchida record Schubert’s Schwanengesang and Beethoven’s An Die Ferne Geliebte for the first time. On a new Decca Classics album, Uchida and Padmore appear on record for the first time in this live recording from London’s Wigmore Hall. They perform Schubert’s Schwanengesang (his “Swansong”, first published weeks after the composer’s premature death in 1828) and Beethoven’s only major song cycle An die ferne Geliebte. With a lifetime of experience with this music, Uchida and Padmore are the perfect duo to interpret this magnificent repertoire.

Mitsuko Uchida has been a committed exponent of Schoenberg's Piano Concerto for over a decade now. It is a work which remains controversial in its adaptation of the serial method to an almost Brahmsian harmonic palette, wedded to a formal approach that takes up the integrated design, and textural richness, of Schoenberg's pre-atonal works. Certainly in terms of the balance between soloist and orchestra, this recording clarifies the often capricious interplay to a degree previously unheard on disc (and most likely in the concert hall too).Interpretatively, it combines Pollini's dynamism, without the hectoring touch that creeps into the Adagio's climactic passages, and Brendel's lucidity, avoiding the deadpan feeling that pervades his final Giocoso.