Those wondering whether Himmelsmusik falls on the experimental side of the output of Austrian-born ensemble leader and continuo player Christina Pluhar and her ensemble L'Arpeggiata can rest easy: there is nothing here in the vein of Pluhar's aptly titled Handel Gone Wild. Instead, Pluhar, countertenor Philippe Jaroussky, and her musicians play it straight and deliver a lovely album from the generally neglected German mid-Baroque, and from almost unknown music within that classification. Not all the music pertains to heaven, as the title might suggest; other topics (such as the Christ child) appear, but all the pieces have a calm, worshipful flavor. Pluhar's focus is the music between Schütz and Bach, with both of those composers added at the end to sum up the territory that has been covered. A major presence is French countertenor Philippe Jaroussky, who certainly can attract bigger clients; his participation is a clue to the music's worth. Some of the composers have direct connections with one or the other (Johann Theile was one of Schütz's last and best students, and the J.C. Bach on the program is not Johann Christian Bach or even Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach, but the Arnstadt composer and organist Johann Christoph Bach, Johann Sebastian's first cousin once removed, some of whose later works were for a time accepted as J.S.'s own. Generally speaking, the vocal pieces are solo vocal "concertos" or arias that experiment with the Schütz model, finding new ways to express the texts as dramatic utterances. Sample Franz Tunder's Ein kleines Kindelein, with its substantial introduction and then its text that pours out in a single thought. The composers were aided in their quest by new developments in Italian instrumental music, some of which is included. Tunder shows up on organ programs, but the likes of Crato Bütner, Philipp Heinrich Erlebach, and Johann Rudolf Ahle will be unfamiliar even to Baroque enthusiasts. The music of some was mostly destroyed during World War II; others worked in obscure or distant courts and never made it into the history books. Pluhar's effort at reconstruction is impressive, and Jaroussky is an ideal collaborator; their music-making can be enjoyed by anyone. A deep dive of the very best kind.© 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

Sigiswald Kuijken's Bach cantata recordings, and in particular his complete series for Accent which culminated almost a decade ago now, haven't enjoyed quite the degree of international attention garnered by those of John Eliot Gardiner and Masaaki Suzuki with their own respective series, and this perhaps isn't completely surprising when Kuijken has consistently championed the one-voice-to-a-part approach. After all, even if one can get on board with one-to-a-part from a historical accuracy perspective, many find it a little harder to get on board with from a pleasure-listening angle, when the casualty of all that authenticity is textural variety – and indeed there's evidence that Bach himself was often frustrated by the slim vocal forces at his disposal. As ever, therefore, this three-strong, January-shaped return to the cantatas – for the third Sunday after Epiphany and the Sunday Septuagesima (the third Sunday before the start of Lent) - features one voice to a part, with La Petite Bande correspondingly chamber-forced. Also worth flagging up is that Kuijken has opted for a female rather than a male alto soloist. Inevitably therefore, the choruses lack the punch you'll hear from multi-voice offerings. However what you lose in weight, you gain in nimbleness, and the vocal performances here are all both enjoyable and text-aware. Likewise, the sound from La Petite Bande is sprightly, mostly attractive of tone, and with perhaps slightly less bite than heard from The English Baroque Soloists. The church acoustic meanwhile comes across with naturalness and a gentle bloom, and on the whole a good balance between parts, although the busy cello lines of BWV 92's Das Brausen von den rauhen Winden do rather cry out for a little more engineering love. If intimate, one-to-a-part Bach is of interest, this is certainly worth a listen. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz

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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

Recorded live at a performance in Bayreuth on 14 August 2011, this Lohengrin naturally benefits a lot from the place's amazing sound; the listener will surely forgive the little noises from around the stage or hall: it is, after all, a very small price to pay for having a front-row seat at a live performance, and with the element of risk – taken by the singers, at least – which heightens the experience. The production brings together some of the greatest voices of the day, led by the tenor Klaus Florian Vogt, a real free radical, who started his career as... horn player in the Hamburg Philharmonic! But soon he heard the call of the lyrical, and he began a superb career as a tenor, first lighter, in Mozartian roles, and then more powerful with Wagner and the roles of the young "Heldentenor." As Elsa, we have Annette Dasch, who had already made a much-remarked-upon début in Bayreuth the year before – also as Elsa. Bass Heinrich Zeppenfeld is following the same Bayreuth trajectory, as King Henry the Fowler. The ambiguous Ortrud is played by Petra Lang, who since moved on to play Isolde, also at Bayreuth, a few years later – a fine rendition. © SM/Qobuz