I'd somehow missed these performances on their first, 
                  full-priced go-round, and I'm glad to have caught this 
                  F-sharp minor now. The first movement has its overtly flashy 
                  moments, but Leif Ove Andsnes, unlike Mikhail Pletnev in his 
                  uninvolved CfP account, knows that it can't just be a 
                  virtuoso exercise. Andsnes keeps even the busiest passages - 
                  like the disturbed figurations under the vaguely undulating 
                  second theme in the orchestra - so intelligently layered, so 
                  purposefully directed, that you almost forget how hard it is 
                  just to play what's there. The cadenza is a full-blooded 
                  musical statement, with the faster notes registering 
                  as reflections of the deep, solid chords. Andsnes's handling 
                  of the other movements is similarly perceptive. The Andante 
                  is beguilingly expressive, with ear-catching pianos; 
                  the finale's waltz theme has both rhythmic buoyancy and 
                  tonal weight.
                   
                  Antonio Pappano, like Pletnev's Libor Pešek an active 
                  collaborator, elicits a nice variety of colors and textures 
                  from the orchestra. He has a marked feeling for expressive nuance: 
                  note the ebb and flow of the cello counter-melodies in the first 
                  movement, and the "soft" landing at the Andante's 
                  first expansive climax. The warm Berlin strings movingly shape 
                  the finale's second theme, with its unexpected harmonic 
                  and melodic turns. The horns sing out firmly; the whirling woodwind 
                  squibs are given their head. The tuttis are full-blooded 
                  and alert: the turbulent climax at 3:23 of the first movement 
                  hurtles forward. The finale begins with bracing rhythmic address.
                   
                  The C minor, recorded in performance, is similarly musical and 
                  persuasive, benefiting from more of Andsnes's distinctive 
                  shapings and voicings - I'd never before felt the piano's 
                  "chordal counterpoint" to the cello line at 2:30 of 
                  the first movement, for example. Sadly, the orchestral contribution 
                  here isn't equally inspired. I imagine that the Berliners 
                  play the score more regularly than its less familiar companion, 
                  and here, perhaps, they've reverted somewhat to the "default" 
                  settings routined in their fingers and lungs. Granted, the Berlin 
                  Philharmonic's default is hardly bad, even if the Karajan 
                  influence persists in some overly reined-in string melodies, 
                  and in the oozy textures of the finale's climax. The 
                  playing is often beautiful, but only intermittently glowing. 
                  Only the finale's taut start rises above the conventional.
                   
                  Some of the orchestral climaxes have a hint of "digital 
                  edge"; otherwise the sound is excellent, reproducing both 
                  piano and orchestra with depth. Endorsed then, with reservations 
                  as noted. In the C minor concerto, Ashkenazy's second 
                  recording, with Previn and the LSO (Decca), remains the most 
                  thrilling in comparatively modern sound.
                 Stephen Francis Vasta
                  Stephen Francis Vasta is a New York-based conductor, coach, 
                  and journalist.
                   
                  see also review by Jonathan Woolf