As one of the few classical musicians to achieve stratospheric levels of fame, Khatia Buniatishvili should be held to similarly high standards. Joining the line of pianists pairing Mozart’s Concertos No 20 (D minor, K466) and No 23 (A major, K488), directing the Academy of St Martin in the Fields from the keyboard, this recording marks her return to a conventional repertoire-based programme, following numerous multi-composer themed concept albums.

The tutti opening to the D minor Concerto is beautiful, though beauty shouldn’t be the priority here: it feels sombre rather than agitated. The lack of ominousness we hear from, say, Howard Shelley (London Mozart Players/Chandos) is noticeable, but the forte that follows is full of drama. Buniatishvili’s own entry is a mirror of the orchestral opening preceding it, and it isn’t long before her interpretative choices become easy to predict. Her non-legato touch in the passage preceding the development is wonderfully effervescent, if contrary to the composer’s legato marking. Overall, however, passagework is uneven and over-pedalled, a characteristic that unfortunately undermines the whole album.

Buniatishvili is more convincing in moments of lyricism, but her frequent favouring of a translucent sound results in the melody drifting in and out of focus. The third movement is full of energy, though finer details are lost along the way. To my ears, both cadenzas (Beethoven) would benefit from greater care; they jut out uncomfortably as a little haphazard.

The A major Concerto is enjoyable, the ASMF exquisite, Buniatishvili allowing the melodic line to soar above all else. High hopes for the playing of Mozart’s own cadenza are let down by playing that seems incongruous in its drama, with moments of brilliance overshadowed by heavy pedalling. The slow movement is full of pathos and the Presto is bright and fiery, with greater clarity. The orchestral sound as recorded here is vivid and crisp, but there are balancing issues throughout: the piano is at times overpowering, at others almost lost. The addition of the C major Sonata, K545, is a welcome bonus and Buniatishvili’s elegant reading captures its spirit nicely.

Perusing the booklet for clues to Buniatishvili’s approach is fruitless: she has written two short notes, neither of which make much sense in isolation or in the context of the recording. In the end I find myself returning to Brendel, with the same orchestra and Neville Marriner (Philips), for a near-ideal mix of intellectualism and artistry.

This review originally appeared in the SPRING 2025 issue of International Piano