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The 100 greatest classical music pieces of all time

Musical Fete (1747) by Giovanni Paolo Pannini - De Agostini
Musical Fete (1747) by Giovanni Paolo Pannini - De Agostini

The sheer vastness of classical music, a tradition that is now at least half a millennium old, makes choosing the 100 best pieces an impossible task. Over the centuries, it has become so incredibly varied within itself – spanning everything from a two-minute medieval carol to a two-hour opera written last week – that the phrase “classical music” has almost lost its meaning.

There is an easy way out: swap “best-known” for “best” and you have a far simpler task on your hands. But that would have meant packing this list with the kind of hoary old favourites that fill compilation albums – and those albums depress us. They give the heinous impression that the classical tradition is nothing more than a repository of upmarket background music, beautiful sounds to help us “chillax”.

In fact, so much of classical music is the very opposite of chillaxing – it inspires us to live more intensely, not less. Sometimes it achieves that in a gently beautiful way, but more often it disturbs or excites us, and can even rub our nerves raw.

In the list that follows, we have tried to capture the variety of moods and feelings you can find in classical music, which encompasses just about everything in human experience. Some of those moods will feel familiar, others will not. Pop songs are about the now, and tend to concern us as individuals. So even when the tunes or rhythms seem strange (hip-hop may sound pretty alien to a fan of dad rock), none of pop music is entirely out of reach.

Classical music is a more complicated case, because so much of it is historically remote. For every piece that evokes feelings we all recognise – and, for example, brings a tear to the listener’s eye – there are many others that spring from a social situation that has long since disappeared.

Jester with a Lute by Frans Hals (1623) - ClassicStock
Jester with a Lute by Frans Hals (1623) - ClassicStock

Consider the feelings that go with taking part in a courtly ceremony, or with marching in a parade ground in a picturesque uniform. Both activities inspired a mountain of music, some of which has survived and now lives in the concert hall. The situation has all but vanished, but the music remains like a message in a bottle from the past that, when uncorked, releases an enticing scent. Classical music is as mysterious as world music; it’s just that the foreign country to which it gives us access is distant in time, not place.

Any classical “best of” has to pay attention to these vanished worlds of feeling, even if giving them a name is difficult. Here, “Does anybody need a lift?” means (mostly) music for ceremonials. “Fighting spirit” evokes the military strain that has been such a huge part of classical music. “The Devil has the best tunes” brings in the diabolical, a favourite area of feeling for the romantics.

Consolation is another special service classical music can provide for us, because its language is rooted in church music, even if it has long outgrown that context. In the 19th century, classical music acquired a political consciousness, so “Don’t get mad, get even” is another of our themes. Then there are the dances that are “Guaranteed to get you moving” and the songs designed to drink to.

Alongside these are categories that don’t point to feelings so much as parts of the world or life; these also evoke certain feelings, but at one remove. There’s music inspired by the countryside, by the sea, by the idea of being transported to an exotic part of the world (the Mystic East was a popular imaginative destination, but there were many others). We find another kind of “transport” in music inspired by dreaming or fantasies, or by nostalgia for childhood.

Our 100 pieces – recordings of all of which can be found easily on YouTube – dip a teaspoon into this vast ocean; we hope it encourages you to venture further out to sea.

A lithograph of the composers Robert and Clara Schumann - Bettmann
A lithograph of the composers Robert and Clara Schumann - Bettmann

Nostalgia for Childhood

Kind im Einschlummern from Kinderszenen (Robert Schumann, 1838)

No composer summons up the cosy, safe world of middle-class childhood as well as Schumann. This piece portrays a child on the edge of sleep.

Suse, liebe Suse from Hansel und Gretel (Engelbert Humperdinck, 1893)  

A charming little playground folk song, sung in duet by the titular characters, at the start of the opera.

Ma Mere L’Oye (Maurice Ravel, 1910)

The Mother Goose Suite is drenched in nostalgia for the fantasy world of childhood. Among the scenes evoked with tender delicacy are Tom Thumb, a Fairy Garden and the Sleeping Beauty.

A Child’s Exercise Book (Dmitri Shostakovich, 1945)

The bittersweet emotional world of Shostakovich shines out with naive clarity in these seven little pieces.

Malo, malo from The Turn of the Screw (Benjamin Britten, 1953-54)

Little Miles sings this hauntingly strange melody in his Latin lesson.

A violent North Sea storm inspired Wagner's Der Fliegende Hollander - EPA
A violent North Sea storm inspired Wagner's Der Fliegende Hollander - EPA

Sounds of the Sea

Overture to Der Fliegende Hollander (Richard Wagner, 1843) 

Inspired by Wagner’s experience of a storm in the North Sea, this captures the majesty of a ship lurching through stinging spray.

Les Jeux d’eaux a la Villa d’Este (Franz Liszt, 1877) 

In his Years of Pilgrimage, Liszt evokes the Villa d’Este’s fountains in showers of pianistic virtuosity.

Barcarolle no 4 (Gabriel Fauré, 1886)

The song of the Venetian gondolier has inspired countless piano pieces in a dreamy rhythm. Fauré liked the form so much he composed 13.

Where corals lie from Sea Pictures (Edward Elgar, 1899) 

“The deeps have music soft and low,” says the poem in this song. Its sense of something longed-for and far away is perfectly captured by Janet Baker in her recording.

Jeux de Vagues from La Mer (Claude Debussy, 1905) 

The second movement of these “symphonic sketches” catches the ever-changing heave of waves.

Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes (Benjamin Britten, 1945) 

All the moods of the ocean, from morning calm to furious tempest, are brilliantly painted in this suite.

A daguerrotype of the composer Chopin shortly before his 1849 death - Getty
A daguerrotype of the composer Chopin shortly before his 1849 death - Getty

Tried and Tested Tear-Jerkers

Ach, ich fuhl’s from Die Zauberflote (Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1791) 

In music of raw simplicity, Pamina expresses her pained belief that her lover Tamino is lost to her.

Prelude in E minor (Fryderyk Chopin, 1838-39) 

This little piece is the quintessence of sadness. It rises like a scent from that repeated note, sounding like a plaintive “why?”, while below the harmonies sink down and down.

Mein schoner Stern! (Robert Schumann, 1849) 

Schumann’s mental state was fragile when he wrote this love-song to his wife, which pleads with heart-stopping intensity: “Don’t let my dark clouds dim your radiance”.

Solenne in quest’ora from La Forza del destino (Giuseppe Verdi, 1862) 

The dying Don Alvaro sings farewell to the man he thinks is his friend, Don Carlo. If the creaky old footage of Franco Corelli and Ettore Bastianini in this scene doesn’t make you cry, nothing will.

Rose Adagio from Sleeping Beauty (Pyotr Illich Tchaikovsky, 1890) 

The immortal ballet that tells of the Princess laid to sleep by an evil enchantress has many lovely melodies, but none more heart-wrenching than this one.

Vesti la giubba from I Pagliacci (Ruggiero Leoncavallo, 1891-2)

The aria made famous by Caruso, in which Canio the strolling player dons his costume and puts a brave face on his wife’s adultery.

Pavane pour une infante defunte (Maurice Ravel, 1899)

Who is the dead child mourned in this slow, stately, very sad dance? There was none, according to Ravel. He just liked the title. But don’t let that spoil the melancholy.

Tu, to piccolo iddio from Madama Butterfly (Giacomo Puccini, 1904) 

Cio-Cio San’s wail as she bids farewell to her young son, knowing that she must die, is pitiful.

Odalisque with a Slave (1842) by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres - Corbis Historical
Odalisque with a Slave (1842) by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres - Corbis Historical

Around the World in Eight Pieces

Lemminkainen’s Return (Jean Sibelius, 1895)

The hero of Finland’s national epic returns home through a landscape of lakes, mountains and forests.

Scheherazade (Maurice Ravel, 1898) 

The perfumes of the east have rarely been so potently evoked.

Ou va la jeune Hindoue from Lakme (Léo Delibes, 1882)

An Indian priestess’s sinuous aria. Iberia from Images for Orchestra  Claude Debussy, 1905-8  In this wonderful sound-picture Debussy, who visited Spain only for a day, captures a fiesta.

Sensemaya (Silvestre Revueltas, 1937)

An extraordinary evocation of a nocturnal Afro-Cuban rite, in which a snake is sacrificed.

The Open Prairie from Billy the Kid (Aaron Copland, 1938) 

Copland catches the loneliness of the American landscape. Listen for the birdcall, mimicked by clarinet.

Double Concerto for Violin, Cello and Gamelan (Lou Harrison, 1982) 

Here, almost everything is Asian – the gongs and xylophones, the scales, the meditative slowness.

White Man Sleeps (Kevin Volans, 1982)

The call-and-response games and interlocking rhythms of this string quartet are African at a deep level.

An illustration from Liber Chronicarum (1493) by Hartmann Schedel - Corbis Historical
An illustration from Liber Chronicarum (1493) by Hartmann Schedel - Corbis Historical

The Devil Has the Best Tunes

Devil’s Trill Sonata (Giuseppe Tartini, c.1713) 

The Paduan composer dreamt that he taught the devil to play violin, and was terrified by the result – especially by his trills.

Wolf’s Glen Scene from Der Freischutz (Carl Maria von Weber, 1821) 

The idea of casting magic bullets with demonic aid is hokum, but the chorus of devils shouting “Uhui!” sends a shiver up your spine.

March to the Scaffold from Symphonie Fantastique (Hector Berlioz, 1830) 

An artist goes crazy for love, poisons himself with opium, and dreams of a witch’s sabbath where his beloved joins in the orgy – in suitably wild music.

Totentanz (Franz Liszt, 1849)

The most flamboyantly romantic of all composers summons up medieval images of damnation and death in this virtuoso piece.

Le Veau d’or from Faust (Charles Gounod, 1859) 

Opera is rich in demonic figures leading the innocent to damnation: here Méphistophélès corrupts good citizens in a tavern.

Devil’s Dance from Soldier’s Tale (Igor Stravinsky, 1918) 

In this Russian folk tale, the devil triumphs over a soldier – playing a furious dance on the soldier’s own fiddle.

A young audience enjoys Benjamin Britten's Let's Make an Opera at Aldeburgh in 1949 - Kurt Hutton
A young audience enjoys Benjamin Britten's Let's Make an Opera at Aldeburgh in 1949 - Kurt Hutton

If Dreams Had Soundtracks…

Overture from A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Felix Mendelssohn, 1826) 

Musical dreams don’t have to be dreamy; they can dance on light feet, as this overture proves.

Casta diva from Norma (Vincenzo Bellini, 1831)

This rapt hymn sung by a Druid high priestess to the moon goddess has a hypnotic beauty.

Prelude to Lohengrin (Richard Wagner, 1845-48) 

Music of exquisite, translucent purity sets the mood for Wagner’s most overtly romantic opera.

L’Invitation au voyage (Henri Duparc, 1870)

A blend of yearning, fantasy and eroticism gives Duparc’s song a huge emotional impact, despite its tiny dimensions.

Kennst du das Land (Hugo Wolf, 1888) 

One of the most potent of all lieder: a vision of an imagined land both enticing and terrifying.

Es gibt ein Reich from Ariadne auf Naxos (Richard Strauss, 1911-12) 

The heroine deserted by her lover Theseus imagines herself transported to a realm of peace.

Eartha Kitt performs in 1955 - AP
Eartha Kitt performs in 1955 - AP

Guaranteed to Get You Moving

Ciaccona (Francesca Caccini, 1618) 

The ciaccona was born as a lively peasant dance, then moved up the social scale. In this irresistibly upbeat example by Caccini, the first woman to compose opera, the rustic origins are still audible.

Furiant from The Bartered Bride (Bedřich Smetana, 1866) 

The highlight of a comic opera enlivened throughout by the vivacious rhythms of Bohemia.

Menuet from L’Arlesienne (Georges Bizet, 1872) 

Bizet’s opera is hardly ever done, but the suite of country dances he took from it is much loved. The minuet typifies the music’s high-stepping, country vigour.

Polonaise from Eugene Onegin (Piotr Illyich Tchaikovsky, 1878) 

This brilliant Polish dance opens the final act of the opera, which takes place at a society ball. This is dance music at its most aristocratic and glittery.

Suite from Der Rosenkavalier (Richard Strauss, 1911) 

All the lilting magic of the waltz is captured in music drawn from this quintessentially Viennese opera.

Romanian Dances (Béla Bartók, 1915) 

The Hungarian composer collected folk music from all over Eastern Europe, such as these wonderful dances, filled with stamping energy and melancholy lyricism.

Ritual Fire Dance from El Amor Brujo (Manuel de Falla, 1915) 

This is dance with magic powers, as a group of gipsies jig around a fire to conjure up a ghost.

Dances from Powder her Face (Thomas Adès, 2007)

The scandalous life of the “dirty” Duchess of Argyll is evoked in sleazily distorted foxtrots and waltzes in Adès’s opera, the first in history to depict fellatio onstage.

The Queen arrives at Buckingham Palace after her coronation in 1953 - Corbis Historical
The Queen arrives at Buckingham Palace after her coronation in 1953 - Corbis Historical

Does Anybody Need a Lift?

Overture from Orchestral Suite no 3 in D (Johann Sebastian Bach, 1725) 

The stately opening recalls the ceremonials at Versailles where the orchestral suite was born, but the uplifting, energetic play of melodic lines that comes later is pure Bach.

Zadok the Priest (George Frideric Handel, 1727) 

Sung at the coronation of every monarch since George II, this magnificent anthem grows from a quietly serene beginning to a blazing choral affirmation.

Komm, Hoffnung from Fidelio (Ludwig van Beethoven, 1804-14)

Brave Leonore sings this aria as she sets out on a dangerous mission to save the life of her husband Florestan.

I was glad (Charles Hubert Parry, 1902) 

Composed for Edward VII’s coronation, this grand anthem suddenly takes on a meditative tone for “Oh pray for the peace of Jerusalem”. The transition back to splendour afterwards is thrilling.

Fanfare (Allegro Maestoso) from Sinfonietta (Leos Janáček, 1926) 

Inspired by scenes of Janáček’s home city of Brno, the Sinfonietta begins with the most blazing and extravagantly scored fanfare of all.

Variation d’Apollon from Second Tableau of Apollo (Igor Stravinsky, 1928)

This sublime dance for the God who leads the Muses is strung like garlands between three massive chordal pillars at the beginning, middle and end.

The Estonian composer Arvo Part in Copenhagen in 2008 - AFP
The Estonian composer Arvo Part in Copenhagen in 2008 - AFP

Soothing Sounds for a Troubled Heart

O Frondens virga (Hildegard of Bingen, 1163-1175) 

Abbess, scholar, poet and correspondent with popes and archbishops, Hildegard was also one of the first female songwriters in history – though as this exquisite song shows, her topic wasn’t love but the mysteries of faith.

Largo ma non Troppo from Concerto for Two Violins (Johann Sebastian Bach, 1731)

Anyone who thinks Bach was always in church, musically speaking, clearly hasn’t heard this rapturous, sensuously entwined duet for two violins, unfolding over a stately walking bass.

Musette et Tambourin from Les Fetes d’Hebe (Jean-Philippe Rameau, 1739) 

The wonderful recording by Musicaeterna will lull you to sleep in the drowsy musette, which evokes the sound of bagpipe – then the tambourine will shake you awake.

Where’er you walk from Semele (George Frideric Handel, 1744) 

Jupiter hails the beautiful Semele as she arrives on Mount Olympus in this serene tenor aria.

Dance of the Blessed Spirits from Orfeo ed Euridice (Christophe Willibald Gluck, 1762) 

This gentle, classical melody depicts the contented and harmonious inhabitants of the Elysian Fields.

Wandrers Nachtlied (Franz Schubert, 1824) 

A setting of Goethe’s poem evoking a peaceful romantic landscape in music of exquisite simplicity.

Nocturne in D flat major (Fryderyk Chopin, 1835) 

Chopin didn’t invent the idea of a nocturnal mood-piece with luxuriantly ornamented melody, but he certainly perfected it. Claudio Arrau’s recording catches its moonstruck ecstasy beautifully.

The Brambleberry Song from Gloriana (Benjamin Britten, 1953) 

The Earl of Essex attempts to calm the troubled heart of Elizabeth I in this marvellous recreation of a melancholy Tudor lute song, from the opera Britten composed for the accession of Elizabeth II.

Spiegel im Spiegel (Arvo Pärt, 1978)

The mystically inclined Estonian composer has a gift for making the simplest things in music glow with fresh-minted beauty, as this lovely piece for violin and piano shows.

The composer Hector Berlioz, the master of romantic yearning - Getty/De Agostini
The composer Hector Berlioz, the master of romantic yearning - Getty/De Agostini

Romantic Yearning

Che faro senza Euridice from Orfeo ed Euridice (Christoph Willibald Gluck, 1762)

The aria made famous by Kathleen Ferrier, in which Orfeo doubts the meaning of life without his beloved wife Euridice.

Gretchen am Spinnrade (Franz Schubert, 1814) 

“Gretchen at the Spinning-Wheel” was Schubert’s breakthrough song. For the first time, he fuses together a picture – you can really hear that wheel spin – with an increasingly overpowering emotion.

Scene d’amour from Romeo et Juliette (Hector Berlioz, 1839)

To capture the famous love scene in Shakespeare’s play in a purely orchestral piece you’d think would be an impossible task, but Berlioz succeeds.

Reviens from Les Nuits d’ete (Hector Berlioz, 1841)

Yes, another piece by Berlioz – but justifiably so, as he was the master of romantic yearning. The song’s first word, “Reviens!” (Return!), is already saturated with it.

Geheimes Flustern (Clara Schumann, 1853)

This song by the virtuoso pianist and wife of Robert Schumann is a perfect little romantic jewel, in which the singer listens to the “secret whisperings” of the trees in a forest.

Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde (Richard Wagner, 1859)

As Isolde stands over her lover Tristan’s corpse, she imagines them eternally reunited in unearthly bliss.

Newt Pond (1932, detail) by Eric Ravilious - Bridgeman
Newt Pond (1932, detail) by Eric Ravilious - Bridgeman

Escape to the Country

Szene am Bach from Symphony no 6 “Pastoral” (Ludwig van Beethoven, 1808)

Some listeners wish the brook portrayed in this tranquil piece occasionally flowed a bit quicker. But the unchanging gentleness of the music – interrupted only by the odd birdcall – is what makes it so daring.

Nerikal jsem to? from The Cunning Little Vixen (Leos Janáček, 1924) 

The Forester’s ecstatic encomium to the natural world and its powers of renewal forms a moving climax to this pantheistic opera.

Das Wandern ist des Mullers Lust (Franz Schubert, 1826)

The opening song of Die schöne Müllerin is full of the joy of a stroll through the countryside; later in the cycle, things turn tragic.

In a Summer Garden (Frederick Delius, 1908) 

This evocation of a drowsily hot day in a garden has a miraculous way of unfolding like an improvisation, made up of little fragments endlessly reshuffled.

Pastoral Symphony from The Messiah (George Frideric Handel, 1741)

The most famous example of the pastoral, a hugely popular genre that summoned up country life with “shepherd’s pipes” – i.e. oboes – and a swaying rhythm.

D’un Matin de Printemps (Lili Boulanger, 1918)

This evocation of a spring morning by a gifted composer who died tragically young has a delicious lightness of touch and impressionistic harmonies that veer close to Debussy, but never too close.

Dmitri Shostakovich during reheasals at Covent Garden in the 1970s - Getty
Dmitri Shostakovich during reheasals at Covent Garden in the 1970s - Getty

Don’t Get Mad, Get Even

Patria oppressa from Macbeth (Giuseppe Verdi, 1846-47) 

First a lament, then a rallying cry, sung by the exiled Scots.

Egmont Overture (Ludwig van Beethoven, 1810)

The score for Goethe’s play about the Flemish people’s struggle against their Spanish overlords brought something new into music – tragic oppression, shot through with determination to resist.

Ballad of the Drowned Girl from the Berlin Requiem (Kurt Weill, 1928)

Weill and Brecht’s angry protest against pointless death includes this tender lament.

Finale to Symphony no 5 (Dmitri Shostakovich, 1937)

“It’s as if someone were beating you with a stick and saying ‘Your business is rejoicing’.” Shostakovich may never have said those oft-quoted words, but they capture the grim, too-insistent triumph at the end of this piece.

Der Graben (Hanns Eisler, 1959) 

Another anti-war song, but much more angry. “Mother, was it for this you raised your son?”

Falstaff (1906, detail) by Eduard von Grützner - Hulton
Falstaff (1906, detail) by Eduard von Grützner - Hulton

Bottoms Up! Six Songs to Drink To

Come let us drink (Henry Purcell, 1695)

This song is a delight – and technically ingenious. The three singers enter one by one, each imitating the one before exactly.

Finch Han dal vino from Don Giovanni (Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1787) 

The wicked libertine Don Giovanni toasts a life dedicated to pleasure in this mercurial little aria.

Libiamo, ne lieti calici from La Traviata (Giuseppe Verdi, 1853) 

The most familiar of operatic toasts, proposed by Alfredo at Violetta’s party.

Im Feuerstrom der Rebe from Die Fledermaus (Johann Strauss, 1874) 

The famous champagne song that brings the party scene of this classic operetta to a fizzing climax.

Academic Festival Overture (Johannes Brahms, 1879)

To thank the University of Breslau for his honorary doctorate, Brahms composed what he called a “very boisterous potpourri of student drinking songs”.

Der Wein (Alban Berg, 1929) 

Baudelaire’s poems in praise of wine inspired Berg to compose three songs of decadent sax-and-vibraphone-drenched beauty and cunning construction – the second of the songs is actually a perfect palindrome.

A 1930s poster promoting musical societies in Britain by Helen Ray Marshall - Getty
A 1930s poster promoting musical societies in Britain by Helen Ray Marshall - Getty

Fighting Spirit

First movement (Allegro) of Piano Concerto no 22 (Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1785) 

So much classical music is inspired by the rhythms and sounds of the parade ground, even when there’s no military connection. This brilliant movement is a case in point.

Kyrie from Nelson Mass (Joseph Haydn, 1798) 

The original title of the piece, Missa in Angustiis (Mass for Troubled Times), refers to the threat to Vienna from Napoleon. When news arrived of Nelson’s victory at the Battle of the Nile, the name was changed, but the fearful tone in those military trumpets and drums is still palpable.

Die beiden Grenadiere (Robert Schumann, 1840)

A grimly ironic tale of two patriotic French soldiers at the end of the Napoleonic wars.

Der Tamboursg’sell (Gustav Mahler, 1901) 

Mahler grew up in a garrison town, and his portrayal of the execution of a drummer boy has an utterly unsentimental, starkly realist tone, which is why it’s so heartbreaking.

For the Fallen (Edward Elgar, 1915)

The most heartfelt of the patriotic pieces Elgar composed during the First World War, this choral-and-orchestral lament begins as a solemn dead march but soon burgeons into a typically Elgarian lyricism.

Epigraph from War and Peace (Sergei Prokofiev, 1955)

The opera’s awesome opening chorus hurls defiance at anyone who dares invade Mother Russia, be they Napoleon or Hitler.

Salve Regina from Dialogues des Carmelites (Francis Poulenc, 1956) 

Both chilling and stirring, the hymn sung by nuns persecuted during the French Revolution as they process to the guillotine.

The Dining Room, Vernonnet (1916) by Pierre Bonnard - Sutcliffe
The Dining Room, Vernonnet (1916) by Pierre Bonnard - Sutcliffe

Music to Console

If Ye Love Me (Thomas Tallis, 1565) 

A favourite at royal weddings, including that of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, this motet begins in utter simplicity and burgeons very gently into something complex and intense.

Sinfonia from Ich hatte viel Bekummerniss (Johann Sebastian Bach, 1714) 

“My soul was heavily burdened” is the title of this cantata, and you feel the burden in the orchestral introduction with its heavy bass trudge and the beautifully anguished oboe melody above.

Third movement from String Quartet no 16 (Ludwig van Beethoven, 1826) 

This closing movement brings a feeling of benediction, expressed in a richly expressive melody which sounds strangely like Tchaikovsky.

Ella e pura from Un Ballo in Maschera (Giuseppe Verdi, 1858) 

As King Gustavus lies dying, he forgives his assassins as the chorus eulogises his greatness of heart.

Sanctus from Petite Messe Solennelle (Gioachino Rossini, 1863)

First comes a series of impassioned outcries by the four soloists. Then a beautifully withdrawn choral sound for the “Benedictus”, which comforts after the preceding distress.

Wie Liebliche sind deine Wohnungen from German Requiem (Johannes Brahms, 1868) 

A little island of radiant lyricism amid the surrounding darkly austere music, this has always been the most popular movement of Brahms’s unorthodox Requiem.

Beim Schlafengehen (Richard Strauss, 1948)

The third of Strauss’s Four Last Songs expresses the weary soul’s longing to live in the “magic circle of night”. Jessye Norman’s recording catches the music’s sublimity to perfection.

First movement from Oboe Sonata (Francis Poulenc, 1962) 

The oboe begins with a piercing lament – then distress is soothed away in a consoling melody. The poignancy is magnified by the knowledge that this was the last piece Poulenc composed.

Are there any pieces you would add? Join the debate in the comments below.