The gestation of this project lasted two years. Anna Prohaska and Julius Drake finally concentrated their research on the themes of Eve, Paradise and banishment. Some songs were obvious choices, such as Fauré’s Paradis, in which God appears to Eve and asks her to name each flower and animal, or Purcell’s Sleep, Adam, sleep with its references to Genesis. But Anna Prohaska also wished to illustrate the cliché of the woman who brought original sin into the world and her status as a tempter who leads man astray, as in Brahms’s Salamander, Wolf’s Die Bekehrte or Ravel’s Air du Feu. In Das Paradies und die Peri, Schumann conjures up the image of Syria’s rose-covered plains. Bernstein also transports us to the desert with Silhouette.. John Milton’s seventeenth-century masterpiece Paradise Lost was the inspiration for Charles Ives and Benjamin Britten, also featured in this very rich programme that constitutes an invitation to travel and reflection. © Alpha Classics

Together with the Berlin-based Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester (DSO) Mari Kodama and her husband Kent Nagano have now completed the recording of all of Beethoven's piano concertos by jumping, as it were, back in time twice: the last element of this recording series that has spanned more than 13 years was Beethoven's concerto "number nought" (WoO 4) – personally edited by Mari Kodama from the autograph score. The original manuscript of this piano concerto is kept at the State Library in Berlin. This is not a completed score, because there is no orchestration. That said, Beethoven annotated the short score, especially in the first two movements, with indications as to which instrument was to play which part. The orchestra score which is available today was written in the early twentieth century based on those annotations. The only problem is: "Today, armed with the knowledge we now have acquired about the young Beethoven, we would perform this concerto quite differently in places," explain Mari Kodama and Kent Nagano in unison. They therefore present a very personal adaptation that emerged during rehearsal with the orchestra and at the recording sessions, and which reflects Kodama's and Nagano's individual image of Beethoven. They aim to make audible the exuberant freshness and urgent sense of awakening in the young, almost childlike Beethoven's writing shortly before his artistic powers were to burst forth, the joie de vivre and vital energy in a style that owes something to the playfulness of both Haydn and Mozart. That is Mari Kodama's intention, and she plays it in precisely such a versatile manner. Combined with the classical canon of the piano concertos nos. 1–5, the resulting comprehensive edition is complemented by the Triple Concerto for piano, violin and cello op. 56, the Rondo WoO 6 and the Eroica Variations op. 35, offering insight into the artist's longstanding involvement with her musical companion Ludwig van Beethoven. And the recordings of his works seem to lead the listener through the composer's life. "If you play all of them, it is like accompanying Beethoven on a journey through his life," explains Mari Kodama, and Kent Nagano adds: "You acknowledge the musical genius and at the same time you recognise the development of European music, because Beethoven was undoubtedly its pioneer." He led the way in changing the structure, form and harmony of music, just as there was an equally radical shift in the world around him; after the French Revolution society and business and the incipient industrial revolution began to alter the way people lived. "He is and remains an optimist, someone who can do no other than believe in what he wishes to communicate to us through his music," explains Kodama. She says this helps her. The fact that she herself is an optimist can partly be attributed to Beethoven. Kodama, Nagano and the DSO – one might imagine them almost as a trio where all the musicians have blind faith in each other and are therefore able to produce a degree of musical intensity that brings the young Beethoven back to life. © Berlin Classics

The most popular works by Frederick Delius, like Summer Night on the River and On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring are orchestral tone poems with a British tinge, seeming to offer a British counterpart to Debussy's Impressionism. Eine Messe des Lebens ("A Mass of Life") has little that is British about it at all unless it be a general commonality of mood with the vast spectaculars written for England's choral festivals. This work has had its champions, including Sir Thomas Beecham, but it has rarely been performed or recorded. The fact that it is in German is one impediment; the work sets texts from Friedrich Nietzsche's Also sprach Zarathustra. Many readers of the day put a grandiose spin on that work; nowadays, it is seen more as lyrical and poetic. The Richard Strauss tone poem based on Also sprach Zarathustra reflects the former view, and so does the Delius work, although it has some almost static mystical passages. There are influences from English choral music, from Wagner, perhaps from Grieg. The work requires a double chorus and a large orchestra; this live performance from Bergen in 2022, with the Bergen Philharmonic, four soloists, and one Norwegian and one English chorus, must have been a logistical challenge. Eine Messe des Lebens (which is in no sense a mass) is something of a beast, but conductor Mark Elder makes a strong case for it. His handling of the large forces is lucid and moves clearly toward goal points, and he balances the choruses, soloists (the principal being baritone Roderick Williams, in fine form), and orchestra well; perhaps the prize should go to the LAWO Classics engineers who kept all these layers clear in a live concert situation. This recording may or may not rescue Eine Messe des Lebens from obscurity, but those interested in Delius, and for that matter in Nietzsche and his reception, should definitely hear it.© James Manheim /TiVo

It is hard to know where to begin enumerating the beauties of this release by the Pygmalion ensemble and its director, Raphaël Pichon, who enumerates his thoughts on Monteverdi's Vespro della Beata Vergine in the interview-style booklet. There are many good recordings of this work, sometimes known as the Vespers of 1610. Right from the beginning, with the exultant blaze of unchanging harmony in the opening Invitatorium that announced, just as clearly as anything in the opera Orfeo, that the musical world had changed, the effect of this performance is exceptionally powerful, but it is not only the glittering tutti that impresses. Perhaps even more than Orfeo, the Vespers marshal all the musical resources Monteverdi had at his disposal. There are operatic arias in all but text, handled perfectly by well-chosen soloists who master the ornamentation idioms of the day. There are polychoral brass pieces that show Monteverdi's development of that style prior to his move to St. Mark's in Venice. There is old-school polyphony and straight monody. In Pichon's hands, all these styles are held in perfect balance. Harmonia Mundi's sound, from the Temple du Saint-Esprit in Paris, evokes the splendor of the ducal chapel in Mantua for which the Vespers were written. There is much more that could be said, but let it suffice to observe that even those who think they know the Vespers well will rethink that position after hearing this remarkable recording, which rightfully made classical best-seller charts in the late summer of 2023.© James Manheim /TiVo

The tale of American composer Leonard Bernstein is at the centre of the film Maestro, released in September 2023 on Netflix and starring Bradley Cooper. The biopic retraces the immense career of a man who first became familiar with classical composers like Schumann, Strauss, and Beethoven, before skyrocketing to worldwide fame as Broadway’s star composer. Musical theatre, film music, ballets, symphonic works…this musical eclecticism is transcribed in the soundtrack for Maestro, created by one of his greatest fans, conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin of Québec. Much of the music features Bernstein’s own works, such as “On the Town” (1944) and “Fancy Free” (1944), as well as “West Side Story” (1957) and “Mass” (1971). The album also includes the likes of Mahler and Beethoven, composers that greatly influenced Bernstein: the legendary 1973 “Symphony No. 2 ‘Resurrection’” concert with the London Symphony Orchestra is presented in the film, conducted by director and lead actor Bradley Cooper, who reincarnates this legend of 20th-century music. © Lena Germann/Qobuz 

Conductor Paavo Järvi, just a few years into his tenure with the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich, says that he undertook this set of Mendelssohn symphonies (plus the incidental music to A Midsummer Night's Dream, which one wouldn't learn from the graphics) because he thought Mendelssohn was underappreciated. Of course, none of the music here is obscure, but Järvi has a point; a complete set of the symphonies, with a fully thought-through fresh approach, is not so common. The tendency these days is to play Mendelssohn with influences from the historical performance movement (or even actually with historical instruments), and Järvi's interpretations show those influences in their quick tempos and emphasis on transparency. However, the difference from other recent readings is that Järvi does it with a substantial orchestra of 70 players, giving the music the heft that a serious work like the Symphony No. 2 in B flat major, Op. 52 ("Lobgesang") requires. It is quite a feat on the conductor's part to keep the lightness at this size, but Järvi manages it, and pieces like the well-worn Saltarello finale of the Symphony No. 4 in A major, Op. 90 ("Italian"), positively sparkle. Järvi's tempos are fast, possibly too fast to catch the growing ambition in the Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 11, but the set can be heard from start to finish without the slightest hint of dragging. Everything except the "Lobgesang" was recorded not at the Zürich Tonhalle but at the rather cavernous Tonhalle Maag, which was probably not for the best, yet this is an impressive Mendelssohn set by any standard, and it made classical best-seller charts in the spring of 2024.© James Manheim /TiVo

Backed by the Sun King despite a lukewarm audience reception at first, Lully's Atys (1676) went on to become one of the composer's most successful operas, with revivals at French court theaters as late as 1753. In modern times, however, it is a considerably rarer item due to the massive forces and time required. Christophe Rousset was in the pit as harpsichordist when conductor William Christie gave the first modern revival of the work in the late '80s. That experience marks this 2024 release, which made classical best-seller lists at the beginning of that year. That is not common for a hefty five-act Baroque opera, but even a bit of sampling will confirm why it happened: Rousset, from the keyboard, brings tremendous energy to the opera. He pushes the tempo in the numerous dances and entrance numbers, and the musicians of Les Talens Lyriques and the singers of the Choeur du Chambre de Namur, all of whom have worked closely with Rousset in the past, keep right up. The singers in the solo roles are all fine; haut-contre Reinoud Van Mechelen in the title role and Ambroisine Bré as the goddess Cybèle, who sets the tragic plot in motion, are standouts. The sound from the increasingly engineering-expert Château de Versailles label is exceptionally clear in complex textures, and the sensuous cover art (representing, it is true, not the Roman mythological figure of Atys but Hippomène and Atalante) is a bonus. In the end, this is Rousset's Atys, and that is a very good thing.© James Manheim /TiVo

For many years, it was only Manon and Werther that were heard among Massenet's operas, but his reputation appears to be on the rise, and his champion, conductor Laurent Campellone, has recorded a good number of them. Ariane, from 1906, is one of the last to receive its recorded premiere. The Palazzetto Bru Zane label, specializing in obscure French opera, does a typically fine job here; the sound is superb, and the cast of singers, led by the soprano Amina Edris in the lead role, offers several revelations. In his later operas, Massenet often attempted to put a French stamp on the newer styles of the day, and here, it is Wagner who gets this treatment; the opera is built around a set of motifs de rappel (or "reminiscence motifs"), whose parentage in Wagner's leitmotifs is clear. This structure is shoehorned into the durable machinery of French opera. There are big entrance scenes, a pantomime, and plenty of spectacular stage machinery to go with the love triangle plot involving Ariane (Ariadne), Phèdre (Phaedra), and Theseus, who gets to take on the Minotaur in a grand scene with Wagnerian bass trumpet and bass trombone. Massenet's orchestration is impressive throughout. The work does not have the inevitability of truly great art, but it is in no way dull, and anyone with any interest in French opera should hear it for the singers alone; enough of those listeners have already weighed in and put the album on classical best-seller lists in the late summer of 2023.© James Manheim /TiVo

Vilde Frang juxtaposes Beethoven's epic, lyrical work with Stravinsky's compact Violin Concerto, which pays spiky tribute to 18th century models. The conductor is Pekka Kuusisto, himself an adventurous violinist; he conducts the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen, familiar to the Beethoven orchestral works. © Warner Classics

Hubert Parry's Scenes from Shelley's Prometheus Unbound, from 1880, here receives its world-recorded premiere. Perhaps recording companies thought there wouldn't be much of a market for a heavy 19th century choral work with, it must be said, a ponderous text by Percy Bysshe Shelley (Prometheus was a play intended to be read, not performed, just to give an idea). How wrong they were. This release made classical best-seller lists in the summer of 2023, and it is altogether enjoyable. At the time, Parry was under the spell of Wagner, whom he traveled to Bayreuth to meet. That influence certainly shows up in Scenes from Shelley's Prometheus Unbound, with its basically declamatory text, partly through-composed music, wind-and-brass-heavy orchestration, and splashes of chromaticism. Yet what is remarkable is that the music does not come off as an imitation of Wagner at all. Rather, it uses elements of his style to match a specific kind of English literary text. The work gradually disappeared, but it would be surprising if Elgar, whom it clearly prefigures, did not know it well. The performances here are luminous, with William Vann using the lighter-than-expected London Mozart Players to create transparent textures against which he can set the substantial voices of Sarah Fox, Sarah Connolly, and other soloists. Parry did write some shorter pieces that remain in the repertory; one of these, Blest Pair of Sirens, is included here as a finale. However, the Scenes from Shelley's Prometheus Unbound are the main news here, and this performance, showing how this kind of thing should be done, may generate a new life for the work. © James Manheim /TiVo

Straight Outta Compton wasn't quite the first gangsta rap album, but it was the first one to find a popular audience, and its sensibility virtually defined the genre from its 1988 release on. It established gangsta rap -- and, moreover, West Coast rap in general -- as a commercial force, going platinum with no airplay and crossing over with shock-hungry white teenagers. Unlike Ice-T, there's little social criticism or reflection on the gangsta lifestyle; most of the record is about raising hell -- harassing women, driving drunk, shooting it out with cops and partygoers. All of that directionless rebellion and rage produces some of the most frightening, visceral moments in all of rap, especially the amazing opening trio of songs, which threaten to dwarf everything that follows. Given the album's sheer force, the production is surprisingly spare, even a little low-budget -- mostly DJ scratches and a drum machine, plus a few sampled horn blasts and bits of funk guitar. Although they were as much a reaction against pop-friendly rap, Straight Outta Compton's insistent claims of reality ring a little hollow today, since it hardly ever depicts consequences. But despite all the romanticized invincibility, the force and detail of Ice Cube's writing makes the exaggerations resonate. Although Cube wrote some of his bandmates' raps, including nearly all of Eazy-E's, each member has a distinct delivery and character, and the energy of their individual personalities puts their generic imitators to shame. But although Straight Outta Compton has its own share of posturing, it still sounds refreshingly uncalculated because of its irreverent, gonzo sense of humor, still unfortunately rare in hardcore rap. There are several undistinguished misfires during the second half, but they aren't nearly enough to detract from the overall magnitude. It's impossible to overstate the enduring impact of Straight Outta Compton; as polarizing as its outlook may be, it remains an essential landmark, one of hip-hop's all-time greatest.© Steve Huey /TiVo

The neutral graphics and title (derived from the novelist Marguerite Duras) of this ECM release give little clue as to what's inside, and even for those who pursue it further, seeing the name of Russian spiritualist George Gurdjieff in the track list might give the impression that the contents are more new agey than they really are. It's true that mystical belief is one of the strands knitting together this exceptionally well-chosen program, but there are many others. They include an Eastern orientation in musical matter as well as attitude, proto-minimalism, and the use of improvisatory procedures. These show up in greater or lesser degrees in the music of all four of the composers represented: Gurdjieff, Federico Mompou, François Couturier (the pianist here, whose background is partly in jazz), and Armenian priest-composer-musicologist Komitas Vardapet, often known simply as Komitas, represented by a single work, Chinar es. The connections are new and delightful; for example, Mompou is not thought of as a mystic, but the writings of St. John of the Cross had a major impact on what he did. The story of the music by Gurdjieff is told in the notes: he was not really a composer, but he knew a good deal of music from Central Asia, filtered it through his own sensibility, and then hummed or whistled it (or played it in a rudimentary way) for composer Thomas de Hartmann, who notated and harmonized it. Hartmann's realizations were piano works, but here they are arranged by the performers for cello and piano. This, they point out, sends Gurdjieff's melodies back in the direction of their ensemble origins. Elsewhere the liberties are even greater; Couturier's own compositions have an improvisational bent, and three times the players join separate pieces together. This is especially effective in the case of Gurdjieff's No. 11 and Mompou's Fêtes lointaines No. 3, with its evocation of distant bells (as annotator Steve Lake points out, a major preoccupation of Arvo Pärt, who may well have been influenced by Mompou and perhaps by the other composers here except for Couturier). All this is backed up by masterful engineering from ECM stalwart Manfred Eicher; good sound from ECM is expected, but here it is crystalline. A superb release, even for those who think they don't like mystical composition.© TiVo