Recorded at Festival Hall in October (No 1) and November (No 6) last year, these performances demonstrate the strides the London Philharmonic has made under the inspired direction of its young, Russian-born principal conductor. Presumably, there were patch sessions, as audience noise is kept to a minimum and the playing is so good that it rivals some of the great studio recordings. Jurowski makes an especially strong case for Tchaikovsky’s youthful first essay in symphonic form, a work he struggled with, and revised several times, stung by criticism from his teacher, Anton Rubinstein, in the late 1860s. Jurowski emphasises the free-flowing melodic freshness and songful wind-writing of the opening allegro tranquillo, and he never allows the momentum to falter, even in the fleeting passages where the young Tchaikovsky’s inspiration was not white-hot. It is a long journey from Winter Daydreams — the First Symphony’s subtitle — to his ultimate tragic masterpiece, the D minor Pathétique, now universally recognised as one of the most original and moving symphonies ever written. Jurowski adopts a broad, expansive approach for the adagio opening of the first movement, but ratchets up the tempo thrillingly after the peremptory chord announcing the allegro section. The strings caress the strange five-beat waltz, the brass strut their stuff militaristically in the march and the performance is rounded off with a heartbreakingly poignant adagio lamentoso. Unmissable.

David Parry's English translation is both elegant and funny as required. Lindoro's standard lovesick cavatina "Languir per una bella" begins as "In dreams of endless pleasure I find the one I treasure," and tenor Barry Banks brings so much warmth and grace, with just the right amount of vocal throb, it's hard to believe he is not actually singing in Italian. Matching librettist Anelli's nonsense "Pappataci" (an honorific bestowed on the annoying Mustafà so that the lovers can escape under his nose) is the more suggestive "Sugar daddy," and bass Alastair Miles uses his rangy voice nimbly to make an adorably dopey victim.

Baritone Alan Opie represents luxury casting as the hapless Taddeo, and he makes the most of the harried aria "All this shouting." Even Rossini's complete score offers little for the Bey's long-suffering wife, but Sarah Tynan's bright soprano rings out nicely in the huge "din-din, tac-tac, cra-cra, boom-boom" ensemble, and David Soar and Anne Marie Gibbons fill out the cast as Haly and Zulma.

Larmore, who recorded a well-received Italian-language Italiana released by Teldec in 1998, is unfortunately a disappointment, struggling with the low range and striving so earnestly to spit out consonants that her singing suffers. Her uneven production and limited choice of vocal color leave her little room to express Isabella's charm and stylish ease, although the rousing, patriotic "Pensa alla patria" (here rendered as "Think of your country"), with its higher tessitura and straightforward bravura, provides a rousing finale to the disc.

In general, Jascha Nemtsov's interpretations of Shostakovich's Op. 34 Preludes split the difference between Konstantin Scherbakov's lyrical bent and Olli Mustonen's hyper-detailed virtuosity. The more flippant and caustic Preludes, such as Nos. 6 and 20, could use more characterful bite and harder-hitting accents, while No. 5's zany, freeflowing scales never quite scintillate. At the same time, Nemtsov imparts a natural, expressive ebb and flow to more introspective selections like Nos. 4, 7, 10, and 14. However, the real reason to buy this disc is the 24 Preludes by Vsevolod Zaderatsky (1891-1953), a mostly unknown composer who suffered nearly lifelong political suppression and persecution from Stalin's government, including the destruction of his manuscripts and two prison sentences. This is the first commercial recording of his music, and hopefully not the last.

Although Zaderatsky may have been inspired to write his cycle of Preludes after hearing the Shostakovich group, could Chopin's iconic Op. 28 Preludes have planted a few seeds? Think of the C minor's long, gloomy sustained chords, or the concluding D minor's rumbling bass lines. Zaderatsky particularly likes the piano's extreme registers, as borne out in the D major's wiggly two-part textures and the G-sharp minor's music-box-like double notes. An austere Romanticism and wide interval leaps characterize more harmonically complex Preludes such as the D-flat major, which would not be out of place among Fauré's late works. Obviously Nemtsov's solid, knowingly nuanced, excellently engineered performances have no catalog competition, and ought to drum up serious interest in Zaderatsky.

My other small reservation concerns the decision to place de Rore’s madrigal which provides the cantus firmus for the longer Mass at the end of the recording – surely it would have been more helpful to place it first.  With a download, of course, it’s quite feasible to rearrange the order of the tracks.

This version of four old favourites in new guise is another of the recordings which vied for the title of Download of the Month.  Johan van Veen had some small reservations about repeats which didn’t prevent his awarding the recording a Thumbs Up.  I had even fewer reservations than JV so, with a 320k download which does pretty full justice to the recording, my recommendation is secure.

 This wouldn’t be prime recommendation, since it presents the music not in its familiar, final form, but in a putative earlier state, but it makes a very enjoyable alternative for anyone who already has a conventional recording.  Avie now have another feather in their cap to join that earned for Trevor Pinnock’s remake of the Brandenburgs last year.

It’s worth paying a little extra for the passionato flac version, as against the 320k mp3s from either provider, though you may have some trouble getting your computer to recognise the three tracks of K271; the trick is to shorten the filename after the ‘No.9’ and add the extension ‘.flac’ (or ‘.mp3’ for the mp3 version).