This is a rather belated release of a live 2006 concert that pairs a new Mozart-inspired work, receiving its Japanese premiere, with its source of inspiration. Toshio Hosokawa’s Lotus under the Moonlight was among new works commissioned for the Mozart 250th-anniversary year. The composer chose as his point of departure the slow movement of Mozart’s A major Concerto, K488, to which he returns at the end of the one-movement concerto in an episode with a pedal-wrapped quote in the piano against string harmonics. Self-indulgent? Maybe, but certainly not a new trick. From its Ravelian ‘Oiseaux tristes’-like opening to the Messiaenic sound world of its lotus-like unfolding and the arch-shaped dramaturgy of the work, this is hardly a piece strong on innovation. Yet there is also much poetry and symbolism in it, which make it a pleasant vehicle for Japanese-born, French-trained Momo Kodama.

Sensitive to the textures and colours, Kodama finds worthy companions in the Mito Chamber Orchestra under Seiji Ozawa. Kodama, for whom the concerto was written, recorded it with Jun Märkl and Scottish National Orchestra in 2013 for the first volume of Naxos’s Hosakawa series, alongside his Horn Concerto (another lotus-inspired work). Compared to that version, Kodama and Ozawa are slower and more spaced out, not necessarily to the advantage of the music. While this allows for a dreamy and meditative experience, it misses out on the mystic energy released by the organic development of the musical material.

Since the premiere, Kodama has been championing Hosokawa’s piano music (including an ECM recording of his solo music, alongside Debussy – 4/17). But when it comes to Mozart’s A major Concerto the competition is simply too strong for her. Her somnolent opening tempo for the slow movement – a ponderous six-in-a-bar that effaces all connection with the siciliano genre – may be an attempt to echo Hosokawa’s echo of the theme. But it is clearly too slow even for Ozawa, as the tempo gradually and thankfully creeps up. There are some pleasing moments of dialogue between the soloist and the orchestra, in particular in the final movement, and some fleeting if rather over-fastidious jeu perlé. But overall Kodama’s account never takes off, since her phrasing is weighed down by over-accentuation. If Horowitz’s playfulness goes too far the other way for you, try Annie Fischer with Adrian Boult in 1960 for energetic, natural weightlessness allied to poetic elegance.