In late December, the Berlin Philharmonic performed an all-Russian concert: Mussorgsky and Borodin. Now that concert is an EMI Classics CD.

It begins with Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition” (in the Ravel orchestration) and ends with Borodin’s “Polovtsian Dances.” In between comes a less familiar work: Borodin’s Symphony No. 2.

Alexander Borodin was one of the most astonishing figures in music history. Born the bastard son of a Georgian nobleman, he went on to be a distinguished chemist: a true scientific pioneer.

You often hear that he was just a “weekend composer.” But apparently it was worse than that: He was a “Sunday composer,” as he himself said. (What do you do on Sunday?) Borodin died at 53, so he got very little done. His list of compositions is cruelly small.

But those compositions are of generally high quality. Borodin, all his pursuits considered, was probably a genius.

On a succession of Sundays in the 1870s, he composed his Symphony No. 2. It has a wonderfully Russian flavor, complete with some peasant jauntiness.

Its second movement, a scherzo, might put you in mind of a Tchaikovsky ballet. Its third movement, the slow movement, suffers from a little triteness. But the finale is fully alive: alive with merriment, imagination, and a love of music.

And this symphony will remind you of Borodin’s other works — in particular, his opera “Prince Igor” (whence come those “Polovtsian Dances”).

The Berlin Philharmonic, under its music director, Sir Simon Rattle, plays satisfyingly. Sometimes you might ask for more savagery, or at least force. And sometimes you might ask for a rawer, or grainier, sound.

But Sir Simon and the Berliners are what they are — and what they are is certainly sufficient.

And every time a solo occurs, that soloist delivers. This is one of the pleasures of listening to the Berlin Philharmonic. I cite the horn solo in Borodin’s slow movement — nothing trite about that.

ANNE SOFIE VON OTTER

Song cycles by Hillborg, Boldemann, and Gefors

Anne Sofie von Otter, the Swedish mezzo-soprano, is a musician both adventurous and sterling. She can do anything — and does.

Her latest disc (Deutsche Grammophon) brings us three Swedish composers, and three song cycles. Two of them were written for her. All three are for mezzo-soprano and orchestra. Ms. von Otter works with the Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Kent Nagano.

The disc begins with a cycle by Anders Hillborg (b. 1954), composed for Ms. von Otter in 2003. It is called ” … lontana in sonno … ,” and it is a Petrarch piece. (All those yearnings for Laura.)

Incidentally, ellipses are very popular in music titles these days — and so are small letters.

Mr. Hillborg’s cycle is of a very familiar character. It echoes the medieval. (I sometimes refer to this style as “Hildegard chic,” after the abbess-composer Hildegard von Bingen.) It is bleak and otherworldly. It uses lots of percussion. And it is monotonous.

But the piece also spooked me somewhat, which is a commendation.

The vocal part is exposed and very, very hard. Ms. von Otter handles it splendidly. She is a keenly intelligent singer, with a first-class technique. This is a heady combination. She is one of our great thinker-musicians.

Next comes the cycle not written for Ms. von Otter, namely “4 Epitaphs” by Laci Boldemann (1921 -69), composed in 1952. (Boldemann was a man, by the way — don’t be misled by the first name.) His text is American: Edgar Lee Masters’s “Spoon River Anthology.”

And his four songs are varied. In general, they are pretty, and they are neatly constructed. Often, the music has a lovely simplicity on the surface and a disquiet underneath.

Ms. von Otter sings this cycle with beauty, urgency, poignancy — whatever is required. And few people, of any nationality, sing in English as well as she.

The disc concludes with “Lydia’s Songs,” written in the 1990s by Hans Gefors (b. 1952), revised this decade. He uses a variety of texts, and a variety of languages. This work is a kind of cantata that becomes operatic in nature.

One song is Mahlerian. Another incorporates “Carmen.” Another gives us some unnerving Gypsy music, or street music. This entire cycle is unnerving, tinged with madness. You sometimes want to turn away from it. And Ms. von Otter lets it all unfold skillfully and persuasively.

Her disc will probably not be a hot seller. But it is not an eat-your-peas disc, either. You will probably not want to gulp down the three cycles in one sitting. But there is nourishment here.

Ms. von Otter is now 53, and cannot sing forever. When she retires, we will really lose something. But we will have scads of discs, displaying a great range.

STEPHEN KOVACEVICH & COLIN DAVIS

Bartók Piano Concertos

Bartók wrote three piano concertos, and they have been recorded many times. You may think of Géza Anda and Ferenc Fricsay, György Sándor and Adam Fischer, or Vladimir Ashkenazy and Georg Solti.

May I suggest that you think of Stephen Kovacevich and Colin Davis?

They recorded these concertos in 1968 and 1975. Their bands are the London Symphony Orchestra and the BBC Symphony Orchestra. And these recordings have just been reissued by Philips.

Mr. Kovacevich, the pianist, and Mr. Davis, the conductor, are superb in their roles. And so are their orchestras. Bartók’s concertos snap, crackle, and pop. I hate to sound like I’m describing breakfast cereal, but there you have it.

This disc is “compulsively listenable,” to use a cliché. I’ve been gorging on it for days. It is priced low, too — probably lower than some cereal.