David Brown, Tchaikovsky’s eminent biographer, thought that on balance The Sleeping Beauty was the finest of the three great ballet scores. But as Diaghilev found to his cost when he mounted it in London in 1921, it is a very extended work and suffers from a storyline in which not a great deal happens. Yet the music itself teems with marvellous ideas and imaginative orchestration.

I am not sure that the best way to approach it is as a complete orchestral work in the concert hall, but if it is to be performed in this way, Rozhdestvensky is just the man for it. In this recording he shows just how to hold Tchaikovsky’s remarkably diverse score together as a symphonic entity by creating a consistent narrative momentum without ever over-driving.

The very opening is enormously dramatic and arresting, and then the petite Lilac Fairy appears in her delectably delicate orchestral apparel. Rozhdestvensky is a master of this kind of contrast. Sample the daintiness of string texture at the opening of the ‘Pas de six’ (track 3), the delicious piccolo and pizzicatos for the ‘Singing canary’ (track 8), so reminiscent of Delibes, followed by the sheer energy of track 9 (‘Violente’). There is also great élan and gusto for the introduction of the famous ‘Waltz’ (track 14) – and what a wonderful tune it is! Later, in Act 2, how elegant are the dances for the aristocracy on tracks 24-27.

Disc two opens with an exquisite reminiscence of the Lilac Fairy, shared by the woodwind and taken up ravishingly by the strings: here Rozhdestvensky is quite masterly in subtly building his climax, while the second track brings a richly phrased cello solo (‘Scène d’Aurore et de Désiré’) with flowing rubato beautifully controlled. Among the charming dances which follow comes the wonderful ‘Panorama’ (one of the greatest of all Tchaikovsky’s inspirations) and it floats flawlessly over its rocking bass. The Entracte, ‘Le Sommeil’, is another moment of atmospheric magic and the first ‘Pas de quatre’ of Act 3 leads to a whole series of characteristic dances in which the conductor’s light rhythmic touch and delicacy of feeling brings a wonderfully refined response from the BBC players. The ballet ends grandiloquently, but with great majesty, and one is left in wonder: there is not a single number in which Tchaikovsky’s imagination fails him. Several other versions of this ballet are available on CD, including a superb set by the Russian National Orchestra under Pletnev. But in my view Rozhdestvensky is even finer, and the BBC recording is remarkably good, with plenty of amplitude, a warm string patina, glowing woodwind and a natural concert-hall balance. Climaxes have brilliance and full dynamic impact but don’t overwhelm the listener. Highly recommended.