This unusual coupling contrasts two wildly different works. For some, Prokofiev's Second Piano Concerto is a work of genius, while for others (particularly those intimidated by its ferocious demands) it remains a monstrosity. Holding up a malevolent distorting mirror to Russian Romanticism, it carries the uneasy modernism of Rachmaninov's Fourth Concerto to its logical and devastating conclusion. Ravel's G major Concerto, on the other hand, recalls the spirits of Mozart and Saint-Saëns and contains a slow movement that is among the composer's most touching creations. Prokofiev's Concerto is daunting and massive, Ravel's an enchanting jeu d'esprit.

Certainly Yundi Li (superbly partnered by Seji Ozawa and the Berlin Philharmonic) has few doubts about either concerto. Indeed, his performance of the Prokofiev, in its prodigious, unflagging power and brilliance, far surpasses any other in the catalogue (including celebrated recordings by Yakov Zak, Ashkenazy, Gutiérrez and John Browning). His moto perpetuo Scherzo is vivace with a vengeance and the colossal first movement's combined development and cadenza is played with an authority that will make lesser mortals pale with envy and admiration. He is no less attuned to Ravel's charm and vivacity, to music seen through a glass brightly rather than darkly, touching off the central Adagio with a moving simplicity and whirling us through the finale with a dazzling and engaging joie de vivre. It only remains for me to add that this superlative young Chinese pianist is heard in the full glory of DG's sound at its most opulent and crystalline.