This surprisingly coupled album has been released by BR Klassik since the death of Mariss Jansons in December 2019. In Carmen's Suite, a ballet score for strings, timpani and four percussion groups written to the attention of his wife, the ballerina Maya Plisetskaya (1925-2015), the Russian composer Rodion Shchedrin transcribed excerpts of Bizet’s music, in striving to get away from it. This work incorporates music from Bizet's opera, plus material from the second L'Arlésienne Suite and La jolie fille de Perth. Throughout this rustic and playful work, the colourful, fiery and rhythmic orchestra gives the feeling of having fun at the same time as Jansons shows his science of conducting. In Respighi, contrary to the sense of over-the-top spectacle of Riccardo Muti, Jansons shows greater restraint, not without creating impressive moments, highlighted by a very good sound recording. © Qobuz 

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

Take 3 is the third release in a deliberate series by violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja, clarinetist Reto Bieri, and pianist Polina Leschenko (Take 2 appeared almost a decade before the 2024 release of this album). All have had innovative programs, and anticipation for this release helped propel it onto classical best-seller charts in early 2024. Listeners will not be disappointed. The booklet notes contain some rather murky reflections from the players about the repertory included, but the basic idea is that most of the music reflects influences from roots traditions, jazz above all. Only one of the composers, Paul Schoenfield, is American, and his Trio for violin, clarinet, and piano draws not on jazz but on Eastern European Hasidic music. The works by Europeans show various ways of tentatively embracing jazz. Interspersed among the selections are movements from Poulenc's rarely heard L'invitation au château, which works well enough inasmuch as the work was written as incidental music from a play. Poulenc evokes the waltz and other European dance forms, but his Clarinet Sonata, written for jazz clarinetist Benny Goodman, has a stronger jazz flavor. So, too, does Bartók's trio Contrasts, also written for Goodman. This is the most distinctive performance on the album, as the players give it a rhythmically free treatment that is certainly jazzy but that diverges somewhat from the notated music. The three players have a remarkable rapport throughout, whether playing klezmer (in Serban Nichifor's closing Klezmer Dance) or in the divergent idioms of the other composers. The album both breaks new ground and is a lot of fun, and it is very nicely recorded at a Radio RSF studio in Zurich.© James Manheim /TiVo

Those searching for singer Cyrille Dubois online will find him called variously a tenor or a countertenor. One can understand the confusion. He is actually what the French Baroque called a haut-contre, a tenor with an extended high range sung in a light falsetto-like voice. It is not a true falsetto, and really, it has to be heard to be appreciated. It is something like the Italian tenore di grazia of the early 19th century. That, in itself, is reason enough to hear this album, but wait, as the old TV pitchmen yelled, "there's more!" Dubois' program includes a good deal of Rameau, including the exuberant title track, composed when Rameau was 80, but there are also pieces by his contemporaries, mostly in a pastoral vein. Rameau was such an imposing figure that he dominated the scene, but the other composers here, like François Lupien Grenet and Bernard de Bury, are all but unknown, and many of the pieces are world premieres. They offer valuable insights into the stock characters and common ideas in the Parisian 18th century operatic scene, and they are full of opportunities for Dubois to display the striking range of colors in his voice. He is backed by the Orfeo Orchestra and Purcell Choir under the direction of György Vashegyi, who also get a group of obscure but highly listenable instrumental pieces. With fine sound from Hungary's Kodály Centre, this is a must for lovers of the French Baroque and of male voice types in general. © James Manheim /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

Lackadaisical in the Enigma Variations and slapdash in the Introduction and Allegro for strings, this addendum to Colin Davis and the London Symphony's series of masterful recordings of Elgar's symphonies and oratorio "The Dream of Gerontius" is distinctly, even acutely, disappointing. Recorded live in January 2007, Davis and the LSO seem to be trying in the Enigma, but they aren't able to sustain the lines or the tempos. There are some marvelous moments here -- the hushed opening of Nimrod is magnificent -- but too often the rhythms drag and the tempos flag -- the tedious remainder of Nimrod seems to go on forever. Recorded in September and December 2005, the Introduction and Allegro betrays its origins with scrappy, sloppy, and disjointed with astonishingly out-of-tune playing from the LSO's strings. There are many better recordings of both works available -- to start with, try Boult's Enigma or Barbirolli's Introduction and Allegro -- this disc is for Davis completists only. LSO's live digital sound here is oddly neither as clear nor as immediate as its earlier recordings. © TiVo

With Les Indes galantes by Jean-Philippe Rameau, György Vashegyi – along with his Orfeo Orchestra and Purcell Choir – makes a further dazzling addition to their Glossa series of French dramatic masterpieces from the Baroque, and in the company of a luxurious line-up of vocal soloists. The version of this “ballet heroïque” – supplied with an anti-colonial, anti-clerical manifesto by librettist Louis Fuzelier – selected by Vashegyi is the 1761 revision, a mere decade or so before the irruption onto the Parisian musical scene of the likes of Gluck and Grétry. Rameau’s score had undergone frequent adjustments and improvements since its première a quarter of a century earlier, and the performing edition for this recording, prepared for the Rameau Opera Omnia by Sylvie Bouissou (who also provides a booklet essay here), offers a vision of this work which is more theatrical, fluid and concise than hitherto. Just in themselves, the names of Chantal Santon-Jeffery, Katherine Watson, Véronique Gens, Reinoud Van Mechelen, Jean-Sébastien Bou and Thomas Dolié (sharing out the dozen solo roles) augur well for a glorious exploration of the prologue and three entrées ahead. Recently, they have also, in conjunction with the Centre de Musique Baroque de Versailles, been working on questions of tempo and how to perform Rameau’s sequences as the composer intended. Vashegyi brings a consummate understanding of Rameau’s galante style to the proceedings, following two previous Ramellian Glossa outings (Naïs and Les Fêtes de Polymnie). © Glossa

Denied early in his career by Philharmonia Orchestra's management, Sir Simon Rattle realized his dream of programming a concert of these three early Stravinsky ballets in a 2017 festival that launched his time as the music director of the venerable London Symphony Orchestra. It is indeed an interesting concept as the audience is given a chance to hear the harmonic and stylistic changes of Stravinsky's writing in these ballets, which were, incredibly, written within five years. All three of these works were premiered at Paris' Ballets Russes. The Firebird, which premiered in 1910, launched a productive relationship between Stravinsky and Sergei Diaghilev, the company's founder. The music of The Firebird stole the show, prompting the composer to craft his own suites from the score, and it remains among his most popular and enduring works. After the success of The Firebird, Stravinsky began to compose The Rite of Spring, but he set it aside to work on a konzertstück for piano and orchestra with the images of a puppet come to life in mind. This imagery put the story of Petrushka in the eye of Diaghilev. Petrushka is set at an 1830s Shrovetide Fair and follows the exploits of a puppeteer who brings three puppets (Petrushka, the Moor, and the Ballerina) to life with his flute. Stravinsky uses folk songs cleverly throughout and departs from the more Rimsky-Korsakov-influenced writing of The Firebird, including the use of bitonality, which he took even further in The Rite of Spring. The Rite depicts a paganistic sacrifice to usher in spring, and its use of pulsating rhythms and brash harmonies famously created an uproar at its debut (the level of which is still debated). Rattle and the London Symphony perform Stravinsky's later revised versions of Petrushka and The Rite of Spring, and all three powerful and highly emotional works are well executed. © TiVo

It's been a while since someone has issued harp recitals that have consistently captured the public imagination, but harpist Lavinia Meijer has shown strong programming instincts in albums that have done just that. Voyage (the title referent is pretty general) is an excellent example. After recording several albums for Channel Classics, Meijer was signed to Sony and released an album of works by Ludovico Einaudi to popular acclaim but mixed critical reception. Here she has threaded classical and crossover styles together very nicely, mixing standard-fare harp arrangements of the likes of Clair de lune and Satie with selections from the Amélie soundtrack of French composer Yann Tiersen. From Satie to Tiersen, Meijer says, is a "short step." Maybe, but many listeners will experience the Tiersen pieces as moments of relaxation, of clarification of the denser textures and significations of the French repertory pieces. There is no doubt that Tiersen is an evocative melodist, and Meijer brings out the film's slightly nostalgic flavor of romantic comedy. Recording the harp is engineering's black belt, and those worried that Sony would not be able to match the legendary sonics of Channel Classics can set their minds at ease: Meijer's harp has a startling presence, and the balances in the pieces with the Amsterdam Sinfonietta are excellent. The booklet, featuring artwork by Jeroen Krabbé, is another plus. Strongly recommended.© TiVo

Christophe Rousset and the Talens Lyriques bring us to the stage of the Royal Academy of Music where Pygmalion, an act of ballet by Jean-Philippe Rameau inspired by an episode of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, was created in 1748. Love, showing empathy for Pygmalion’s despair of loving a statue, invigorates the sculpted woman who immediately falls in love with her creator. Very suggestive, the music of this tender and mischievous ballet deploys the grace of 18th century dances. Like Ovid’s Love, Christophe Rousset instils life in this score, one of Rameau’s greatest successes in his day, and offers us, thanks to his sense of drama and his impeccable leadership, a new and essential reading of this ballet. © Aparté