Jean-Efflam Bavouzet’s happy collaboration with Gábor Takács-Nagy and the Manchester Camerata in the Mozart piano concertos, begun in 2016, has now reached its seventh instalment. Most of the series includes, in addition to concertos, opera overtures, divertimentos or chamber works. The supplemental work on this album is a lively reading of the Overture to The Marriage of Figaro, a piece written around the time of the C minor Concerto. Bavouzet, a native of Lannion who grew up in Metz, and a pupil of Pierre Sancan at the Paris Conservatoire, is that rare pianist equally at home in Haydn or Liszt, Debussy or Ives.

Some of Mozart’s most beautiful and characteristic writing for winds occurs in the context of his piano concertos. The Manchester Camerata, due to the ratio of its wind players to strings, not to mention the truly remarkable virtuosity of the wind players themselves, produce a delectable feast for the ear encountered all too rarely in contemporary Mozart ensembles. That Bavouzet is seated in the midst of this distinctive sensuality and textural richness at a nine-foot Yamaha concert grand means his sound is never forced. Beautifully contoured cantabile sections and brilliant passagework seem delivered effortlessly. For me, the sheer aural beauty of this collaboration, combined with exquisite hand-in-glove, yet perfectly natural ensemble-playing, constitutes one of the recording’s chief pleasures.

If the first movement of the C minor Concerto (K491) begins perhaps half a degree more spaciously than seems customary, Takács-Nagy seizes the forte chords in the opening tutti with such vehemence we are given to understand that, no matter how tragic the proceedings, they are nothing if not powerful. The Larghetto, an island of lyric calm in this most turbulent of concertos, showcases interactions of the soloist and wind ensemble. In the booklet Bavouzet argues in favour of slight changes in tempo between the variations of the finale. These are made with persuasive subtlety, leaving the inevitable momentum towards the concerto’s tragic conclusion intact.

It’s no accident that the C major Concerto (K503) is often characterised as symphonic. Quite apart from its Olympian tone, the first movement is the longest single instrumental movement Mozart composed. All told, Bavouzet, Takács-Nagy and the Mancunians give the concerto a robust, sun-drenched reading, missing no opportunity to heighten the work’s innate grandeur. The Allegretto rondo is approached as playfully as I can recall having heard. It’s the perfect set-up for the moment (3'45") when Mozart seems to suspend time and energy to spin out, with the utmost simplicity, one of his most disarmingly beautiful melodies.

For K491, Bavouzet has slightly adapted the cadenzas by Hummel; the cadenza for K503 is by the young pianist Kenny Broberg (Chandos calls him Kenneth, although on his debut recording – see review on page 68 – he calls himself Kenny). The booklet explains that because Georg Solti had so decisive an influence on both Takács-Nagy’s and Bavouzet’s conception of the Mozart concertos, they gratefully dedicate the disc to his memory. Certainly these are performances of warmth and beauty that continue to deliver fresh insights even after repeated hearings.