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

While the German soprano follows in the footsteps of Cecilia Bartoli, her virtuoso voice separates her fans from the purists who prefer a less fanciful vocal-line. This long-awaited new album from Simone Kermes shows off her masterful voice in almost every register and there is no sign of the excessiveness for which she has previously been criticised. Typically referred to as a “Ba-rock” star, some people are irritated by her gestures and extreme theatrics during her concerts, but those mannerisms are long forgotten here in the absence of any images. The title of the album, “Mio caro Händel”, says a lot about the affinity Simone Kermes feels with the Saxon composer. She has selected his most popular pieces, such as Ombra mai fù(Largo of Love), Piangeró la sorte mia(I will lament my fate) and Lascia ch’io pianga(Let me weep), along with some much less well-known pieces, which are some of the most wonderful revelations and rare musical gems on the album. The singer recorded this testimony of love to Händel in Berlin’s famous Jesus-Christus-Kirche in 2018 accompanied by Amici Veneziani, an ensemble put together especially for her which mostly comprises of German musicians and is led by Russian violinist Boris Begelman. As a great traveller who went all over Europe, this captures Händel’s European spirit perfectly. © François Hudry/Qobuz

This triple album wraps up the Shostakovich by conductor Andris Nelsons and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. The series has had much to recommend it, and Nelsons, by his own admission as a Latvian, has as strong a grasp of Shostakovich's ambivalent attitude toward the Soviet state as anyone. Left for last here are possibly the four least-performed Shostakovich symphonies: two early rather avant-garde pieces, the Symphony No. 12 in D minor, Op 112 ("The Year 1917"), and the Symphony No. 13 in B flat minor, Op. 113 ("Babi Yar"). All of these works are programmatic, and most of them have voices. The Symphony No. 13 is a vocal-choral-orchestral work (baritone Matthias Goerne and the Tanglewood Festival Chorus and New England Conservatory Symphonic Choir join Nelsons and the Symphony). The best is saved for last; Goerne approaches this tragic work, marking the massacre of Ukrainian Jews in 1941, with deep soberness, and Nelsons maintains the elevated tone. The rest is not quite top-level. The Symphony No. 12 is as close as Shostakovich ever came to a pro-Soviet potboiler, and Nelsons seems unexcited by it. The early Symphony No. 2 in B major, Op. 14 ("To October"), and Symphony No. 3 in E flat major, Op. 20 ("The First of May"), have a nice edge, and Nelsons keeps things under control in the massive 13-part fugue at the end of the first part of the Symphony No. 2. This is brash, youthful Shostakovich at its best and the album as a whole will satisfy followers of Nelsons' series and, in the "Babi Yar" symphony, anyone else.© 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

Zappa in New York was recorded in December 1976 at the Palladium and originally intended for release in 1977. It was held up due to arguments between Frank Zappa and his then-record label, Warner Bros. When the two-LP set finally appeared in March 1978, Warner had deleted "Punky's Whips," a song about drummer Terry Bozzio's attraction to Punky Meadows of Angel. The Zappa band, which includes bassist Patrick O'Hearn, percussionist Ruth Underwood, and keyboard player Eddie Jobson, along with a horn section including the two Brecker brothers, was one of the bandleader's most accomplished, which it had to be to play songs like "Black Page," even in the "easy" version presented here. Zappa also was at the height of his comic stagecraft, notably on songs like "Titties & Beer," which is essentially a comedy routine between Zappa and Bozzio, and "The Illinois Enema Bandit," which features TV announcer Don Pardo.© William Ruhlmann /TiVo

Few will dispute George Friderick Handel being one of the most accomplished composers of the Classical era, but it should also be noted he possessed to an equal degree, a perhaps less-than-esteemed-but-vital gift in those pre-copyright days, the art of self-promotion. Even in the early stages of his career Handel was well-aware of his prodigious talent and sought to promote it to the utmost. It was that ambition which led the young composer in 1706 to Florence, at the behest of one of the Medicis, to assist in establishing the opera in that city. Handel later decamped for Rome where, his reputation preceding him, he quickly made the acquaintance of leading patrons of the arts among the nobility and upper echelons of the Catholic Church, leading to many commissions.One of those commissions came from Cardinal Carlo Colonna for the major work on this recording, a setting of the Psalm, 109 in the Vulgate, 110 in the King James, Dixit Dominus (The Lord said unto my Lord). Regardless of the composer’s young age of 22, it is the work of a mature master. Even more remarkable, Handel, though from a strict and observant Lutheran upbringing, was able to work with his Catholic patrons, setting a Latin text suitable for use in Catholic worship.There are many recordings of Handel’s Dixit Dominus and this is certainly one of the finest, with brilliant performances by soloists, orchestra, and chorus. Conductor Bart Van Reyn’s tempos are on the sprightly side, but never seem excessive or rushed. There is a wonderful freshness and sparkle to this reading, both in performance and the superb high-resolution sound. Particular praise must be made of the three soloists, whose virtuosity and sensitivity to the text are exemplary.A welcome bonus is a much lesser-known masterpiece by a much lesser-known composer, Giovanni Battista Ferrandini: his Marian cantata (mistakenly attributed until recently to Handel), Il pianto di Maria. In the excellent program notes, Aurélie Walschaert writes this lament differs from earlier ones modeled after the medieval text Stabat Mater, where a narrator describes the sorrows of Mary. Most of the text in this composition is in the first-person, with Mary herself describing the sorrows she is witnessing, thus deepening even further the emotion. A prize should go to mezzo-soprano Sophie Rennert, whose astonishingly empathetic delivery of the text will move any listener, whatever their religion. This is a must for every classical library.  © Anthony Fountain/Qobuz

Handel's oratorio Israel in Egypt, HWV 54, bombed at its first performance in 1739 and was heavily revised by Handel. The revisions go even further here, in what is marked as an adaptation by Apollo's Fire director Jeannette Sorrell. She makes wholesale cuts, removing numerous arias, consolidating others, and leaving only a few recitatives. Sorrell retains, however, the three-part structure of Handel's first attempt (the librettist was probably Charles Jennens of Messiah), consisting of the "Lamentations by the Israelites for the Death of Joseph," "Exodus," and "Moses' Song." She also keeps the chorus-heavy quality of Handel's originals. The nearly three-hour oratorio usually heard is sliced to just over 74 minutes. All this might seem an unwarranted intrusion, but Handel himself obviously struggled with the material of this oratorio, which isn't one of his more commonly heard works. And lo, Sorrell's reworking succeeds solidly, creating convincing dramatic arcs where they previously existed only in outline. The ten plagues are shortened considerably but make more of an impact in their abbreviated form. The greatest strength here is the choral writing, in many places the equal of anything in Messiah. Apollo's Fire is a rather underrated choral-orchestral group from the U.S. Midwest that offers a satisfyingly good-sized choir with clear text articulation and a fine sense of expressing what they are singing about. A strong offering that will be appreciated by Handel lovers during the 2023 holiday season and beyond.© James Manheim /TiVo

The first noticeable thing about Kanye West's tenth studio album, Donda, is its mass. With 27 tracks, a running time of an hour and 48 minutes, and a dense list of contributors including Jay-Z, Kid Cudi, Roddy Ricch, Jay Electronica, Travis Scott, Lil Durk, and many, many more, Donda is poised to be an epic statement, an all-out event. The music itself tells a different story. Still bearing the religious overtones of 2019's Jesus Is King, West assembles the sprawling Donda from minimal arrangements that linger while feeling eerily unfinished. This is perhaps most apparent in the conspicuous absence of drums from many of the tracks. The hooky "Jail" sounds like a rocked-up version of something from Graduation, with Auto-Tuned vocals swimming happily around crunchy guitars. It's a banger with no bang, though, waiting until the last seconds of the song to bring in a brief, stilted drum pattern. "Tell the Vision" also lacks a forceful rhythm track, stitching together a stumbling piano loop with fragmented hi-hat skitters to hold a ghostly verse from Pop Smoke. Traces of the old Kanye show up alongside this new subtractive approach. "Junya" is upbeat and confident, with a cheery church organ sample and another skeletal rhythm track serving as a backing track for lively flows. We're reminded of West's production mastery when he cuts up a Lauryn Hill sample for standout track "Believe What I Say," while "Lord I Need You" carries diminished echoes of the grandiose pop magnitude of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, and the thick bass and abrasive rush of "God Breathed" would fit in on Yeezus. Donda isn't without its highlights, but taken as a whole, it's both confused and confusing. The album is purportedly a tribute to Kanye's late mother, Donda West, who died in 2007. Donda's presence is felt throughout the record, in particular during moments like the somber beauty of "Jesus Lord," and more directly on the song that bears her name and includes audio of her speaking. In this exhaustive form, however, it becomes harder to keep the threads of any emotional narrative or even fully absorb the slew of sometimes only partially realized ideas that play out over the course of Donda's nearly two hours. At a certain point, all but the most devoted fans might have to wonder if everything that made the final cut is completely necessary. As with every new shape he takes, Kanye can be heard deep within Donda's drum-less beats and protracted wandering. His role as the man behind the curtain somehow keeps the songs compelling even as they become hard to digest. 808s & Heartbreak confounded both fans and critics with its frigid atmospheres and gothic undertones when it first arrived in 2008, but its production went on to influence the better part of the next decade of mainstream pop and rap. The first few times through, Donda feels haunted and incomplete, yet there's a spark deep inside the songs that suggests Kanye might merely be ahead of the curve. It wouldn't be the first time.© Fred Thomas /TiVo