Here we are: instalment three of a series that so far has been one of the finest ornaments of Beethoven’s 250th-anniversary celebrations, the collaboration of Kristian Bezuidenhout, Pablo Heras-Casado and the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra, in the master’s works for piano and orchestra. First came the E flat and B flat Concertos in questing, probative performances (3/20). Then, with the Zurich Sing-Akademie and soloists, the Choral Fantasy coupled with a Ninth Symphony (9/20) that together, were it not for their health and precision, their blazing colour and finesse of detail, would simply raze the house in their sheer grandeur. Now we have the summum of the classical Viennese piano concerto framed by the overtures to two theatrical works written during the same decade.

And a handsome frame they make. This lean, mean Coriolan overture has the sinister grace of a panther about to pounce. The Overture to The Creatures of Prometheus belongs, first and foremost, to the Freiburg winds, whose variety of colour and virtuosity make this choicest ear-candy. Heras-Casado’s poised but light-footed rhythmic acumen combines with his inerrant instinct for the perfectly sculpted, living, breathing phrase, to create strikingly original interpretations to be savoured with gusto.

As for the main event, Bezuidenhout may have surpassed the most compelling of his solo Mozart set, his Mendelssohn and Mozart concertos with the Freiburgers, his electric Beethoven sonatas with Mullova and even the resplendent Emperor Concerto of this series. Repeated listening has convinced me this is one of the finest, most deeply perceptive and thrilling performances of Beethoven’s Fourth Concerto on record. But make no mistake, Bezuidenhout’s triumph could only be achieved by the hand-in-glove support and interplay provided by Heras-Casado and the Freiburgers. The vistas of the Allegro moderato open on to vast, variegated terrain, traversed with such sensitivity and passion that it seems entirely new.

Whether or not you subscribe to the 19th-century idea, extensively elaborated by Owen Jander in the 20th, that the Andante is a musical metaphor for Orpheus at the gates of Hades, it’s impossible to escape the sense of dialogue evoked here. Rarely have the strings sounded more formidable or the piano more plaintive. The Rondo is a true Vivace as Beethoven intended, bracing in its variety of detail, from the subtlety of the bowing that introduces the movement to the sheer delicacy of the ensemble interaction throughout. It unfolds in a veritable terpsichorean delirium, resulting in an all but overwhelming impression of supernal joy.

All this is delivered in the gloriously dimensional sound that is the norm for Harmonia Mundi these days. If you love Beethoven, delight in the sound of precise and imaginative ensemble and revel in brilliant piano-playing, whatever you do, do not miss this!