Nowadays when seemingly every live concert and opera production anywhere is filmed from front of house using three or four cameras, edited and bunged out on DVD, it is refreshing to encounter discs which use the medium with imagination and eschew the predictable devices and confines of the made-for-TV documentary.

Before discussing the purely musical aspects of this venture, here is what each two-disc set has on offer among its more than five hours viewing time. DVD 1 contains a multi-choice sequence of the historical, biographical and artistic background to the Beethoven concerto(s) in question (fine, except for the English voice-over’s pronunciation of Czerny and Haydn); a filmed complete performance; an audio commentary (in French only) with François-Réné Duchâble and Professor Daniel Gaudet analysing the concerto(s); a ‘music lesson’ in one of the reception rooms at the Versailles Palace with Duchâble discussing (English subtitles) each concerto using a modern concert grand and a 1790 Stein fortepiano; and an encore (9940-3002 has the last movement of the Tempest Sonata, 3003 the first movement of the Appassionata; 3004, the first movement of the Waldstein). 3004 also has a fascinating feature on an exact modern reproduction of Beethoven’s fortepiano, Erard No 133, the instrument on which he composed the Waldstein, Appassionata and the greater part of the last three concertos. Duchâble and its maker, Alain Moysan, engage in a lively appraisal of the instrument.

More goodies await on every DVD 2. One movement of each concerto is selected with the score highlighted to show the principal voices as the music progresses; in another movement, you can choose the angle from which you want to watch the performance (pianist, full orchestra, conductor or orchestral soloists); Duchâble and Nelson talk through the scores at the piano; there are features on recording the concertos, an interview with Nelson and a tour of the Opera House in Versailles Palace. Plenty to whet the appetite, elucidate and ponder on, not least the interview with Duchâble on the 3004 set. This is itself divided into four chapters, each one indexed question by question, showing again how well Ambroisie Interactive exploits the medium. All the features are superbly filmed and edited.

Remarkably, all five concertos were recorded in two days, on November 17 and 24, 2002. Nine months later, Duchâble played his farewell recitals as a pianist, controversially sending one of his pianos to the bottom of Lake Mercantour in the French Alps, exploding another in mid air, and finally burning his recital suit in protest at ‘the bourgeoisie tag that went with his chosen career’ (whatever that means).

Such indulgences are the least of Duchâble’s traits as a pianist. His Beethoven will not be to everyone’s taste but if, like me, you have had enough of the stale, quirky, indulgent and routine cycles that have appeared in the past few years (match the pianists to the adjective), the Frenchman’s approach is like splashing your face with cold spring water on a summer’s day. This is Beethoven the Gallic way, sparingly pedalled on an immaculately voiced if dry-toned Steinway, adopting sparkling tempi for the outer movements and disinclined to hang about in the slow. The Ensemble Orchestral de Paris is the same size as that envisaged by Beethoven and a fine job they make of this ambitious project under John Nelson’s adroit direction. And, incidentally, bigger names than him have been considerably less successful in negotiating the awkward moments of ensemble in these concertos.

I found myself listening with fresh ears to these much-loved scores and being captivated anew by the musical dialogue between soloist and orchestra. Orchestral dynamic markings made by the composer to accommodate the weak projection of a fortepiano, have been tweaked up to match the power of the concert grand while miraculously retaining a sense of period scale. The juicy woodwinds come across with wonderful clarity and any number of rarely acknowledged moments make their mark (like the long, exposed pedal G of the cellos under the soloist in the dolce fifth subject of the Fourth Concerto’s finale). Duchâble, who plays his own cadenzas, is as eloquent and persuasive at the keyboard as he is discussing his overall concept of the project and the structure and content of each concerto. I had never spotted, for instance, the ‘Tristan chord’ during the opening flourish of the Emperor, nor the many figurative similarities between the Appassionata Sonata and the first movement of the Fourth Concerto. It is one of many such moments that Duchâble elucidates sitting at the rehearsal piano which are then edited into the filmed performance of the concerto. If you want a masterclass on these five masterpieces, then I cannot imagine a better and more enjoyable way in which to experience it.