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

Instead of paying homage to John Williams' celebrated score for Richard Donner's 1978 Superman film, as composer John Ottman did with Bryan Singer's 2006 reboot Superman Returns, Hans Zimmer has crafted an entirely new set of themes for Man of Steel, director Zack Snyder's 2013 re-reboot of the franchise. Closer in tone to the composer's work on Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy, the 15-track Man of Steel is grittier and darker than any of its predecessors, due in large part to Zimmer's proclivity for non-stop, thunderous percussion, though it retains enough goose bump-inducing moments to be called a proper Superman score, especially on the elegiac "Look to the Stars" and its soaring counterpart (pun intended) "What Are You Going to Do When You Are Not Saving the World?," both of which dutifully reflect the iconic superhero's propensity for both goodness and might.© James Christopher Monger /TiVo

This release by tenor Mark Padmore and pianist Mitsuko Uchida, Schubert specialists both, came with strong recital buzz on both sides of the Atlantic and landed on classical best-seller charts in early 2023. This recording was made at Wigmore Hall in London. It is Schubert's not-quite-cycle Schwanengesang (it was assembled into a set after Schubert's death) that gets top billing in the graphics, but the album opens with Beethoven's An die ferne Geliebte, Op. 98, the first true song cycle, shown on the cover in small print. The piano part in Beethoven's songs had an unprecedentedly major role in the proceedings, and the placement of the set at the beginning may serve to advise the listener of the unusual emphasis on Uchida's piano in the main Schubert attraction as well. Sample Ständchen, the most famous song in the set, or Abschied for a taste of the lively, spritely quality that is Uchida's alone. The piano-driven effect is heightened by the engineering, which puts Padmore's voice somewhat into the background, and it is not at all clear that this needed to be done. Padmore remains, however, a terrific Schubert interpreter. His voice is a bit thin in its middle register by now, but his ability to extract fine shades of meaning through slight alterations of tempo is unmatched. In general, this is a fine Schubert recording that lives up to the hype, and it is especially recommended to Uchida fans; they will discover a new facet of her talent. © James Manheim /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

With its forty-five chorale preludes, the Orgelbüchlein bears witness to a mastery of the art of improvisation on the organ, as the congregation heard it at the time before singing the hymn in its turn. It was a tempting experiment to revive this primary function: by collaborating with the combined forces of the Ensemble Vocal Bergamasque and the Maîtrise de Notre-Dame de Paris, Benjamin Alard gives the "little organ book" its full significance and expressive power. © harmonia mundi

The cantata Jesus nahm zu sich die Zwölfe (Jesus gathered the twelve to Himself) BWV 22, holds a historic place in Bach’s work. Indeed he composed it while still in Köthen, as an audition piece for the position of Thomaskantor in Leipzig, and then conducted it on February 7th, 1723, maybe even singing the bass part himself. Famously the city council, unable to convince its preferred composers – Telemann, Graupner and two others –, decided to settle with “mediocre” Bach… The gospel of the day first announces his death and his resurrection by Christ and his disciplines. A modest orchestra: voices, strings, one oboe and continuo, but the musical content is – like in almost all of Bach’s cantatas – amongst the best he’s ever written. For the same celebration, Bach composed a new cantata the following year, Herr Jesu Christ, wahr’ Mensch und Gott (Lord Jesus Christ, true Man and God) BWV 127. But it has almost nothing in common with the previous piece: here Bach offers a very impressive reflection on physical death. Throughout his cantatas he called for a blessed death to free himself from the vicissitudes of life on Earth, but this now reveals how much he may have feared physical death itself. The aria ”Die Seele ruht” is one of these sublime moments suspended in time, an ineffable tintinnabulum, in which the soprano and the oboe dialogue on a harrowing theme while the flutes and string pizzicatos symbolise the passing of time with incredible beauty. Finally it’s with Die Elenden sollen essen (The miserable shall eat) BWV 75 that Bach started off his work in Leipzig, in St. Nicholas Church this time, as the cantatas were alternately performed in both churches. Probably because he wanted to start with a bang, he designed this cantata on a huge scale: fourteen numbers, divided in two parts. Of course Bach would have never been able to produce such vast and powerful partitions on a weekly basis, but there is a real substance to this Passion… and it’s with great passion that Philippe Pierlot, his Ricercar Consort and the soloists perform these masterpieces. © SM/Qobuz

John Eliot Gardiner, the Monteverdi Choir, and the English Baroque Soloists come to Bach's St. John Passion after their ambitious traversal of all the church cantatas, so they are immersed in the subtleties of the composer's expressive sensibilities and musical styles. Their performance of the St. John Passion is emotionally explosive and often darkly dramatic; the opening chorus, for instance, is roiling and tumultuous, almost chaotic, a wrenching opening to the passion narrative. As dark as the tone is, it is never murky; this is the darkness of obsidian whose blackness is revealed when light glints off its sharply defined surfaces. The performances of the soloists match the brilliance, finesse, and clarity of the chorus and orchestra. As the Narrator, tenor Mark Padmore sings with urgency and acute sensitivity to the text; he comes across as an engrossing storyteller. His voice has an exemplary purity and he is equally impressive in the lyrical tenor arias. Bass Hanno Müller-Brachmann is a warmly sympathetic Jesus, and bass Peter Harvey is a forceful Pilate. The remaining soloists, all of whom are excellent, have relatively small parts in the passion, but soprano Joann Lunn and Bernarda Fink are standouts. The recording offers clean and exceptionally well-defined sound. Gardiner's version should be especially attractive to listeners looking for a polishedperformance that emphasizes the emotionally charged atmosphere of the score. © TiVo

In this volume recorded on April 23-25, 2000, in the Georgenkirche in Eisenach -- the town of Bach's birth and the church of his baptism -- John Eliot Gardiner has programmed two cantatas for Easter Sunday -- Christ lag in Todesbandend (Christ lies in the Bonds of Death) (BWV 4) and Der Himmel lacht! Die Erde jubilieret! (The Heavens Laugh! The Earth Rejoices) (BWV 31) -- two cantatas for Easter Monday -- Erfeut euch, ihr Herzen (Rejoice, Heart) (BWV 66) and Bleib bei uns, denn es will Abend werden (Remain with us, it is towards evening and the day is far spent) (BWV 6) -- and two cantatas for Easter Tuesday -- Ein Herz, das seinen Jesum lebend weiss (The heart that truly knows Jesus) (BWV 134) and Ich lebe, mein Herze, zu deinem Ergotzen (I live, my heart, for your salvation) (BWV 145). And every movement in every work is suffused with spirituality, from the dark night of the soul that is Christ lag in Todesbandend to the bright rejoicing of Der Himmel lacht! to the ethereal serenity of Ich lebe, mein Herze. Although there have certainly been other musical, beautiful, and even spiritual recordings of Bach's cantatas in the past and will surely be other fine recordings of the same ilk in the future, these recordings are bound to be special for a long time. As always in this series, no matter what the venue, the recordings are vivid and immediate. © TiVo

Bach's 199 surviving sacred cantatas form a repertoire of masterpieces that defy comprehension. It's not just that there are so many of them, it's that every one is unique, exemplified by the seven cantatas on the third volume of John Eliot Gardiner's Bach cantata pilgrimage, three for the Fourth Sunday after Trinity recorded at Tewkesbury Abbey and four for the Fifth Sunday after Trinity recorded at the Blasuiskirche in Muhlhausen. The Tewkesbury cantatas feature a celebratory central choral sung by the strong-voiced Monteverdi Choir in Ein ungefärbt Gemute, BWV 24, a stately aria sung by lush-toned alto Nathalie Stutzman in Barmherziges Herze der ewigen Liebe, BWV 185, and a dancing aria cum trio sonata sung by dulcet-toned soprano Magdalena Kozená accompanied by a wonderfully lyrical obligato bassoon in Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, BWV 177. The Muhlhausen cantatas are even richer, with the mournful triple-time chorale that opens Aus dem Tiefen rufe ich, Herr, zu dir, BWV 131, and the doleful chorale fantasia for soloists and choir that opens Wer nur den lieben Gott lasst walten, BWV 93, plus the blissful duet in Siehe, ich will viel Fischer aussenden, BWV 88, sung with pure, clear tone by alto William Towers and soprano Joanne Lunn. While listeners unfamiliar with the cantatas may initially be intimidated by the size and variety of these works, the sheer beauty of Bach's inspired settings will keep pulling them back. As always in his Bach cantata pilgrimage, Gardiner stresses the bright and hopeful over the dark and despairing even in the gloomiest cantatas, and he elicits powerfully affecting but rhythmically flexible playing from the English Baroque Soloists even in the dourest movements. Despite the change in countries and venues, the digital sound here is close enough to spotlight the soloists and distant enough to encompass the ringing chorals. © TiVo