The mystery of the ballad comes from the way it is told.’ (Goethe). Epic to the point of hallucination, this genre calls for skill in narrative, word-painting, evocation. And it is as a peerless storyteller that Stéphane Degout tackles this repertory which the German Romantics raised to unequalled heights. Who would have believed, before listening to this disc, that a French baritone could pay such eloquent tribute to the language of Goethe? © harmonia mundi

The labels lately established by performing organizations have mostly been devoted to new releases, but there is a lot to be said for using them to resurrect historical performances and recordings. These tend to be ones that have hung in people's memories for years, well after newer recordings have become available. There couldn't be a better example than this, the first historical release from the Bayerische Staatsoper Recordings label. It reproduces a 1984 live performance of Mendelssohn's Elijah, Op. 70 (as Elias, in the original German) from the Nationaltheater München, with the Bayerisches Staatsorchester conducted by Wolfgang Sawallisch and the Chor des städtischen Musikvereins zu Düsseldorf. (The latter got involved because the Bayerischer Staatsopernchor was unavailable, but the choir acquits itself very well, unsurprisingly inasmuch as Mendelssohn himself was one of its former directors.) Sawallisch was noted for his way with Mendelssohn, to which he brought a noble Germanic tinge that makes a nice contrast with the usual English performances. He never did better than here, and upon hearing that tapes of this performance had been preserved, he is said to have exclaimed, "Thank God they're safe!" The soloists, led by baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in the title role and tenor Peter Schreier as Obadiah, are superb. Another attraction is the hardbound booklet, delving deep into Mendelssohn's philosophical place in German society (really philosophical -- Hegel and his dialectic come into it). The live sound from 1984 is impressive indeed, with crowd noise kept to an absolute minimum in a superb display of discipline. A wonderful historical reissue that catches the intense drama in Mendelssohn's oratorio.© James Manheim /TiVo

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How can one decide between Lisa della Casa's many recordings of Strauss' Arabella? After all, she recorded the work twice for major labels -- this 1957 Decca recording with Solti conducting and a 1963 DG recording with Keilberth conducting -- and, beyond that, there are half a dozen or so extant live recordings. But of course, when you want a recording of Arabella, it has to have Lisa della Casa in the title role. With her voice of pure gold, her technique of absolute effortlessness, and her portrayal of enormous compassion, she is by common agreement the role's finest interpreter. So how does one decide?Let's say that for reasons of sonic quality, we put aside the half dozen or so extant live recordings and stick just with the two major-label productions. What are the arguments for the Decca? Della Casa is younger, stronger, and more supple. Solti is colorful, powerful, and very dramatic. The Wiener Philharmoniker is brilliant, beautiful, and very virtuosic. The rest of the cast ranges from good to great with Otto Edelmann being the merely good and Hilde Gueden, George London, and Anton Dermota being the very great. John Culshaw's recording is deep, detailed, and very immediate. What are the arguments for the DG? Della Casa is older but wiser and deeper than ever. Keilberth is more than adequate but less than dramatic. The Bavarian State Opera Orchestra is more than adequate but less than beautiful. However, the rest of the cast, especially Fischer-Dieskau, is great to magnificent and the live sound is rich and very live. So how does one decide? Given the choice of two superlative performances, the answer is both. Forced to choose, the Decca might get the nod for conducting, but the DG might get the nod for the rest of the cast. Better to go with both.© TiVo

With this set of 12 cantatas, a few of them quite short, Dutch historical-instrument conductor Ton Koopman approaches the end of his monumental traversal of the complete Bach cantata corpus. The cantatas here mostly date from the last two decades of Bach's life. By this time Bach had cantatas from earlier cycles ready for most occasions pertaining to the liturgical year. Several of the works here were written for special occasions -- weddings in at least two cases. The orchestration for the most part is large and varied, with several pieces including trumpets and tympani; the Cantata No. 195, "Dem Gerechten muß das Licht," BWV 195, features a dazzling array of strings, oboe, oboe d'amore, transverse flutes, horns, trumpets, bassoon, timpani, and continuo. The result is that these pieces play to the strengths of Koopman's interpretations: the warm, flawless blend of the Amsterdam Baroque Choir and the sharp differentiation of the instruments within what remains a big, festive sound overall. The famous cantata in this group is the Cantata No. 140, "Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme," BWV 140, with its "Sleepers Awake" chorale and its lovely variations on a pastoral theme. Sample the opening chorus (CD 2, track 1) for an idea of what you can expect in the various large choruses in the lesser-known cantatas in the set: each has its nice textural touches, and not a one gets lost in Koopman's expert interpretation. Hear the "Welt, ade, ich bin dein müde" (World, goodbye, I am tired of you) movement of the Cantata No. 158, "Der Friede sei mit dir," BWV 158, for an example of Koopman at his best: this odd combination of a bass aria with mantra-like interjections of the chorale from the choir's sopranos would throw a lesser conductor. The soloists in this set are also unusually effective. Soprano Sandrine Piau's voice is unhampered by the high pitch Koopman employs, and her soaring lyricism makes an effective foil for the unusual, rather English horn-like timbre of the alto of Bogna Bartosz. There is something a bit cool in Koopman's readings; for deep humanistic insights into Bach's music, the evolving cantata set by John Eliot Gardiner may be preferable. But in the public, festive music heard here, this lion of the historical-performance movement is hard to beat. © TiVo

"What could be more fascinating than the play of light and shadow? To descend into sensual melancholy, to dare to be fragile and to reveal oneself in its depths and inner nuances. I find that one way of illustrating this complexity of the senses is to compare two musical and pictorial schools: French Impressionism and German Expressionism. The colours and timbres employed by these two schools have long fascinated me just as much as the extreme refinement and detail of the paintings and compositions themselves. Each painter and composer explored the depths of the human soul in his or her own manner. This programme of works composed between 1899-1914 that laid the foundations for modern music is intended as a bridge between Expressionism and Impressionism. This parallel does not claim to illustrate their differences but rather to highlight their common points, to reveal the voluptuous and almost decadent sensuality of these two currents as well as their geographical and stylistic contrasts" (Coline Dutilleul) © Fuga Libera

The title of this release by soprano Robyn Allegra Parton refers not only to a general mood of circa-1900 Vienna but specifically to the frequent use of burnished gold-leaf in the paintings of Gustav Klimt, whose Vienna Secession movement in art had many affinities to what was happening in the musical world. Parton uses the gold as lipstick in the graphics; one may or may not go for this, but the package here is coherent and satisfying in several ways. Richard Strauss is present on the program, and Parton, writing her own notes, correctly points out that his influence loomed large on all the composers heard here. But in a way, the interest of Parton's program lies in the differences among the styles of the composers on the program. Parton puts the listener in the place of an audience member at a vocal recital of the time, hearing the Impressionist hints of Joseph Marx, the new simplicity of the young Erich Korngold, the decisive steps toward atonality in the Seven Early Songs of Berg (at the time Schoenberg's student), and the works of two female composers, the quite playful experimental Johanna Müller-Hermann and Alma Mahler-Schindler, both of whom were heard fairly frequently at the time but were later forgotten. Parton's voice is an absolutely distinctive soprano, with a bit of rough texture flashing unexpectedly into a brilliant top. Quite a few recordings lately have explored the rich repertory of Austrian vocal music of this period, but this one is especially well thought-out and executed; it appeared on classical best-seller charts in the summer of 2023. © James Manheim /TiVo

Dietrich Buxtehude Buxtehude was born more than 350 years ago; at least it is now generally accepted that he was born in 1637. He died on 9 May 1707, having lived unusually long for his time. In 1668, at the age of 31, he found employment at the St. Marienkirche of Lbeck, and continued to occupy the position until his death some 40 years later. If we accept the nearly unanimous opinion of musicologists that most or even all of the surviving works come from this period of Buxtehudes life, than we could say that Buxtehude=Lbeck. His work It is certain that only a (small) part of Buxtehudes immense oeuvre has come down to us. Nevertheless, there are some 130 completely preserved vocal works, about 120 of which are on religious texts. In addition there are about 110 organ and harpsichord pieces and some 20 chamber music compositions....

This eleven hour box set marks the 90th birthday of German mezzo-soprano Christa Ludwig, whose phenomenal career, which ran from 1950 to 1990, still inspires admiration in her colleagues (of course) and a growing number of music fans. She has collaborated with the greatest musicians of her age, most notably Herbert von Karajan, Leonard Bernstein and Otto Klemperer. She also shone in the genre of the Lied, with a brilliance comparable to Elisabeth Schwarzkopf's or Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau's – and of course she regularly performed with both – and these recordings with Gerald Moore and Geoffrey Parsons bear witness to her talents. A note on the brand-new releases that form part of this edition: some performances are published here for the first time*: these are Lieder with orchestra by Alban Berg (tracks 144 to 146), Max Reger (track 137) and Richard Wagner (track 124) as well as Lieder with piano by Hugo Wolf (track 14), Franz Schubert (tracks 15 and 16, 62 to 66) and Stille Nacht (track 89), which were left aside when they were first recorded, either because of the limits of the 33rpm format, or just because of a decision by the artistic director. This collection also sees some pieces re-published for the first time since their release on LP, such as the piece by Gluck (track 88), several of Brahms' Lieder (tracks 15 to 19, tracks 104 and 107). The recital of Brahms which Christa Ludwig would record alongside Walter Berry appears here in its entirety for the first time since it was first released (from track 67 to track 89, see above). © Qobuz

This is one of those musical offerings that tends to be justified with a group of small arguments. True, the combination of clarinet and harp is an odd one, but, the notes point out, flute and harp is not. "Both harp and clarinet are associated with Romantic sensibility," assert the notes, and the main attraction, the Schubert Arpeggione Sonata in A minor, D. 821, is already almost invariably played by something other than its original forces (a piano and the disused arpeggione). The pieces involved are all either songs without words or instrumental pieces with clear melody lines and arpeggiated accompaniments that flatter the work of harpist Anneleen Lenaerts. Give her and clarinetist Dionysis Grammenos credit: the arrangements here are their own, and they make the combination seem like a generally natural thing. You still have to suspend disbelief a bit, but this is a case where the degree will depend on the individual listener. Sample the Schumann Romanzen, Op. 94, originally for oboe: here the original concept of the music is probably closest to the end result, and it's possible to imagine a harpist of Schumann's time making an arrangement like this. If you find it fetching, move on to the rest; you're probably in for a pleasant hour of smooth-surfaced music. If not, you'll probably feel there's no real reason for this project.© TiVo