We've just had an "interesting" experience failing to book tickets for a heavily oversubscribed festival (not classical, as it happens). Tickets went on sale at 9am today, with several authorised outlets available. At 9am, we were online attempting to log in to various websites while at the same time trying the phone numbers.

Having just spent a great evening listening to Shostakovich's large scale works at the Royal Festival Hall (see the review), it was fascinating to listen to a work on a very much smaller scale - at least instrumentally - in the shape of his D minor Cello Sonata. This was played last night by the new pairing of cellist Gemma Rosefield and pianist Katya Apekisheva in a private run-through as preparation for a concert next week.

I was intrigued to be sent a copy of Bach & Friends, a new DVD which billed itself as "World-class musicians reflect on the power and genius of Bach's music and perform his greatest masterpieces". The DVD turns out to be a series of interviews with a variety of musicians in which each tells us something about Bach and the way it has affected them emotionally and musically.

Last night, a stage on London's South Bank was turned into a small corner of Russia as the London Philharmonic Orchestra and their Moscow-born conductor Vladimir Jurowski treated us to a semi-staged performance of Shostakovich's little-performed opera fragment "The Gamblers". The stage was set with card tables at which an all star cast of Russian singers played cards while singing through Shostakovich's remarkable setting of Nikolai Gogol's acidly oppressive play.

Sunday night brought the intriguing mix of Chelsea Opera Group, the amateur chorus and orchestra which hires professional conductors and singers, to the Queen Elizabeth Hall at London’s Southbank Centre. The occasion was a concert performance of Verdi's La Traviata, with the world renowned Romanian opera singer Nelly Miricioiu, the rising star Italian conductor Gianluca Marcianò and tenor Cosmin Ifrin making his UK debut. With some caveats, the evening was an overwhelming success with the audience springing to their feet at its close to reinforce their enthusiasm for the performance.

A combination of possibly the vastest array of audience I have ever seen – Club K brought out both young and old for this unique event – from miniskirts and makeup to ties and suits (neither of which seemed out of place) it seemed much of the audience was as intrigued about the event as I was, with an atmosphere of mystery and anticipation surrounded the BIC Solent Hall.

When you're in Italy, classical music does seem to crop up in some unlikely places.

One of several BBC Inspire Workshops around the country was held at the BBC Maida Vale studios on February 13th 2010. This was the first lab of its kind that I had attended, and so I was not entirely sure what to expect.

The group came to around 30 ‘young composers’ between the ages of 11 and 18, and 8 adults who worked for the BBC in one way or another, either running the studios, in charge of the workshop, or members of the BBC Orchestra.

I did not quite know what to expect from The Junction, a venue more attune to punk, rock and reggae, now playing host to an evening of both DJed and live classical music put on by The Parnassus Club.

Stepping inside felt almost like being transported back to a pre-1950s bar (or at least what I’d imagine that to be like), an impression created wholly by the music itself and perhaps, on a more negative side, the dated sound quality of some of the recordings. Ranging from Mozart to John Adams, the DJs’ selections were broad and with a primarily orchestral focus.

Not quite the utopian fantasy of metalheads and local crack-dealers swooning to the sounds of Elgar’s Enigma Variations, as some might have hoped; the crowd would not have been out of place at any other concert. But the difference here was in the ethos of the whole spectacle. The raw enthusiasm of the two DJs for the music they played was as refreshing as seeing an audience enjoying classical music in a more laid back context, void of the rules and expectations that can put-off potential classical music lovers. The DJs were even open to requests, allowing a platform for the sharing of musical enthusiasm that is so rare in classical genres outside of a very limited sphere.

Early this morning, a correspondent sent in the following terse note through the contact form:

Where to start? All we know about our correspondent is that he's male and writes e-mails early in the morning: from this, how on earth can we pick five works from the entire classical canon? But never being one to refuse a challenge, here’s a go. And just listing five CDs to buy isn’t really good enough.

First point: start by going to a real concert, not by buying a bunch of CDs. You’ll understand what all the fuss is about much more quickly and powerfully. Buy the CD after the concert if you like.

For a starter in the concert hall, try Dvořák’s Symphony no. 9 - the “New World” Symphony. It’s really easy to listen to, rich in orchestral texture with big brass, lush strings thumping timpanis. More importantly, it’s choc-a-bloc with fabulous melodies (if you’re above a certain age, you’ll recognise the Hovis advert). There’s something about the orchestration and the drive of the last movement that makes you just want to punch the air (but don’t try that in the concert hall).

Next stop is to move up a gear in emotional intensity, and it doesn’t get any more intense than Mozart’s Requiem. If you’re already of a Christian religious bent, you’ll be predisposed to what the music is communicating, and if (like me) you’re not, don’t worry about it: this is still the most passionate, soul-enhancing, traumatic music that you can listen to, and it’s suitable for a novice - you will get the point without having a trained ear or a great musical vocabulary.

Once again, if you want to do this properly, don’t buy the CD - go and see the Requiem in a church. The Requiem is much performed: in Eastern Europe, this tends to be in a church, free, and as part of a bona fide memorial service. We saw it at the Matthias church in Budapest, which was a life-changing experience. Another way of getting to grips with the Requiem is to watch the movie of Peter Shaffer’s play “Amadeus”.

After all that high emotional drama, come back to earth with Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. When Mussorgsky's artist friend Viktor Hartmann died at the age of 39, an exhibition was held in his memory: Pictures is a suite for solo piano which imagines the listener walking around a gallery and stopping to look at each painting. Each “picture” is a miniature masterpiece in itself and leaves you astonished at how much imagery you can get out of just one musical instrument. Read the concert programme or the sleeve notes as you go - to get the full effect, you need to know things like “Baba Yaga is a witch in Russian folklore”. The piece is often played in an orchestral arrangement by Ravel: personally, I go for the piano version every time.

If these pieces have seemed a little old-fashioned, try something written in the 20th century: Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. If you’re interested in dance, go and see this at the ballet, otherwise buy a CD of one of the three Suites that Prokofiev extracted from the full score (which is far too long to be played outside the context of an actual ballet). I’ve chosen this because it contains a healthy dose of the discords and musical clashes that add excitement and interest to 20th century music, while still being very accessible, dramatic and full of melodies that are easy to get to grips with. By the way, here's some trivia: at some point in the last few years, Sunderland Football Club played the Knights’ Dance from Romeo and Juliet over the P A system at the Stadium of Light. It went down so well with the fans that it’s now played whenever the team comes out.

Finally, here’s something completely different, purer and much, much older: take a trip back in time to Restoration England and listen to some of Henry Purcell’s vocal music, starting with Dido’s Lament “When I am Laid in Earth” from the opera Dido and Aeneas. I'm going to cheat by adding a second of my favourites: the song “Music for a while”. This is contemplative and escapist music, to be played when you need to be removed from the cares of your daily life. To use Dryden’s words, “Music for a while shall all your cares beguile”. Music for a while can be sung either by male or female voices: if you want a truly unearthly sound unlike any non-classical music you've heard, find a CD sung by a counter-tenor (the recording shown below is a vintage one by the wonderful Alfred Deller).

Before anyone complains, yes, I know this is completely subjective, I haven’t put in any Bach or Beethoven and there isn’t a single concerto. What I’ve tried to do is to give a novice listener a taste for the range of different experiences available, hoping to tempt them to more. But then, five pieces was never going to be enough...

Here are some links to the pieces mentioned:

In concert:

• New World Symphony (sadly, nothing in the UK at time of writing)
• Mozart Requiem
• Pictures at an Exhibition (sadly, only orchestral and brass arrangements at time of writing)
• Romeo and Juliet at the ballet
• Anything by Purcell