There's no shortage of Handel aria recitals these days, especially in Britain, but this one by bass baritone Christopher Purves stands out from the crowd in several respects. First of all, it is rare in collecting arias for bass voice, which was, in Handel's time as it was later on, generally associated with a few fixed and generally negative character types (tyrants, rogues, repressive patriarchs). Second, it's a very pleasantly varied collection of tunes, including displays of brilliant passagework, out-of-the-norm writing in service of characterization (Fra l'ombre e gl'orrori, from Aci, Galatea e Polifemo, track 4), and high climactic drama (the big, three-part Revenge, Timotheus cries, from Alexander's Feast, track 19, is a familiar example). Finally, Purves unearths some rarely heard pieces and programs them intelligently. When did anyone last year anything from Muzio Scevola, or Riccardo Primo, rè d'Inghilterra, which must have pleased London audiences in 1727 despite its Italian-language text. Purves does not have the biggest voice in the bass baritone universe, and there could be a bit more sound in the very low notes. But the dimensions of the music are right for the period. He's pleasingly accurate in the passagework, and he's a real actor who makes these potentially stilted characters come alive. Listeners will want to hear Purves in a small production of one of these operas after hearing this album, preferably accompanied by the strong historical-instrument group Arcangelo under Jonathan Cohen, as he is here.© 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

Beyond the neglect of French Baroque music in general, it is a bit hard to understand why composer Pancrace Royer was almost completely unknown until Christophe Rousset came along to champion him, first in harpsichord music and now, with these suites of music drawn from operas, in orchestral music. In the 18th century, Royer was quite well known and admired among others by Rameau, whose music he helped along considerably. Royer certainly inhabited Rameau's stylistic world, but from the evidence here, his music is distinctive and merits the adjective "surprising" that Rousset has attached to it. It is colorful, given to unexpected turns of harmony, and vivid in its evocation of the exotic scenes of French opera. Sample the "Air pour les turcs" ("Air for the Turks") from Zaïde, reine de Grenade, with its crackling percussion. Royer challenged his orchestra with virtuoso ensemble writing in the likes of the "Premier et second tambourins" from Almasis, and Rousset and Les Talens Lyriques step up with precise, vigorous readings that one imagines would have made the composer overjoyed. The inclusion of two alternate versions for movements from Zaïde is also unusual and gives insight into the compositional thinking of the day. Essential for specialists and enthusiasts interested in the French Baroque, this album is a lot of fun for anyone, with only overdone church sound detracting from the overall effect. © James Manheim /TiVo

While the recordings of highlights and hits from Rodgers & Hammerstein's still-popular Oklahoma! have been issued over the years, the complete, as originally orchestrated score (by Richard Rodney Bennett) had yet to be recorded. However, following a live-staged performance at the 2017 BBC Proms, conductor John Wilson took it upon himself to deliver this premiere. He sticks with the original orchestra dimensions as well, which is a good thing since the handpicked members of his Sinfonia of London are powerful enough in this smaller group. Wilson also took advantage of the quality theaters around London, bringing in soloists and a cast ensemble of veterans from stages across England. He does well in selecting a cast here; while all are more than capable singers, they are also able to deliver the vocal acting that is necessary to pull this off. Leading the cast are Nathaniel Hackmann, reprising his role as Curly from the Proms performance, and Sierra Boggess as Laurey. The vocalists and orchestra take full advantage of the space and recording setup, which allows the orchestra to play full out while not overstraining the singers. The beauty of Rodgers' music paired with Hammerstein's book is evident, even if you are unfamiliar with anything but the titular state (if even that!); the imagery of ranches and open cattle land easily comes to mind. This recording should be welcomed with open arms by those who are familiar with the musical, be it either from a stage (generally edited and with cuts) or in its film version with its edits. Oh, what a beautiful mornin', indeed.© Keith Finke /TiVo

Poro, re delle Indie, HWV 28 (a.k.a. Poro, re dell'Indie, Poro, or Porus), a Handel opera seria of 1731, was a great success at the beginning, and modern scholars have pronounced it one of the finest Handelian operas. The work is performed from time to time, in the original Italian or in German translation, but recordings have been sparse. The opera constructs a romantic plot around the clash between Alexander the Great and the Indian king Porus, who interestingly is attested only in Greek sources, not Indian ones. Also interesting is that the libretto by Pietro Metastasio was originally called Alessandro nell'Indie, but Handel's opera shifts the central role to Porus, perhaps because the famed castrato Senesino was set to perform the part. Here, the role of Poro is ably handled by countertenor Christopher Lowrey. However, a notable feature of the opera, and perhaps one that made this the second-most-popular of Metastasio's libretti behind only the ubiquitous Artaserse (Artaxerxes) is the large collection of strong vocal roles, giving several singers the chance to shine. The opera seria pitfall of a series of set pieces is avoided, and the drama unfolds naturally. The role of Poro is balanced that of Alessandro himself, for tenor voice, and here, Marco Angioloni, one of a new breed of singer-directors, is very strong. Hear also Giuseppina Bridelli as Poro's sister Erissena, a rich, compelling contralto. In his role as director of the ensemble Il Groviglio Angioloni, he favors a substantial ensemble (ten violins) capable of rough, rather percussive attacks. With an English opera, an Italian ensemble, and an international cast of singers, this release marks a step out for the Château de Versailles label, which generally emphasizes French Baroque repertory. The music is, however, a fine choice and beautifully brought off.© James Manheim /TiVo

The impression of the ink still being wet on the page is not an unfamiliar one when listening to Fabio Biondi and Europa Galante, such is the freshness and elan they inject into everything they turn their musical attentions to. However in the case of their Vivaldi Edition Argippo the ink pretty much was still wet as they recorded it, because this is Bernardo Ticci's 2019 reconstruction of what is in fact a lost Vivaldi pasticcio (a cutting and pasting together of music from other operas), created in 1730 for the Venetian impresario Antonio Peruzzi to stage in Vienna and Prague. The reconstruction has been possible because the librettos from those two productions remain, plus a set of arias, and also the full score of a complete three-act, untitled and anonymous opera featuring arias from up to twelve other composers – and both the arias and the score appear to be derived, albeit with many changes, from the Prague libretto. The result is a reconstruction which on the one hand is decidedly scant on actual music by Vivaldi, given that even those arias believed to be from his pen can't be confirmed as such, and they appear alongside arias by Galeazzi, Pescetti, Hasse, Porpora, (possibly) Fiorè and Vinci. However, it's also a stylistically diverse and thus thoroughly entertaining offering that bears all the hallmarks of a Vivaldi pasticcio, and is undoubtedly in the spirit of one. Argippo's action takes place in the Bengali Kingdom – a tapping into the contemporary Venetian enthusiasm for tales of the East, although that influence didn't bleed into the musical style itself. A classic Baroque opera plot centred around lies and mistaken identities – King Argippo of Chittagong and his wife Osira almost lose their lives while visiting the court of the Gran Mogol Tisifaro, because the Tisifaro's cousin Silvero seduces his daughter Zanaida while disguised as Argippo – it's high on drama and strife before eventually reaching its happy conclusion. So, add the multi-composer score, and Biondi's five-strong cast have plenty to get their teeth into. Highlights include the opera's first fizzing showstopper, “Se lento ancora”, contralto Delphine Galou as the Gran Mogol Tisifaro's daughter Zanaida making light work of her leaping figures and embellishments as she anguishes over being betrayed by her lover. Also the soft and fruity-toned fluidity to the vocal acrobatics of ‘Un certo non so che’, sung by soprano Marie Lys as a fearful Osira. Equally fine voiced are soprano Emőke Baráth in the title role, contralto Marianna Pizzolato as Silvero, and bass Luigi de Donato as Tisifaro. Europa Galante themselves bring it all together with their characteristic blend of warmth, fizz and dramatic flair, having launched things with a cracker of an opening Sinfonia. In short, great fun. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz

In 1745, the King of France granted Jean-Philippe Rameau the title of ‘Composer to the Court’, coupled with a healthy pension. This new period produced pieces of a much lighter character, with Rameau working alongside the librettist Louis de Cahusac, and the resulting collaborations are now counted amongst the Burgundian musician’s greatest masterpieces. Zaïs was presented on the stage of the Royal Academy of Music in 1748. This heroic ballet offers French music some of its most beautiful movements, both vocally and instrumentally. The entire work is a meditation on its famous opening chaos, and succeeds, surprisingly, through its theatrical stamp and in the audacity of the writing. The plot is, perhaps, tenuous – a lover (Zaïs) is in the throes of affection for his beloved (Zélidie), determining to cherish her – which serves as the pretext for endless entertainment, dancing, and the work’s magical character. Today, it remains surprising that a work as sumptuous as Rameau’s Zaïs is neglected in favour of the Indes Galantes or Hippolyte et Aricie. It is paradoxical, then, that in 1970 Gustav would combine the small amount of French music he truly appreciated with a reassessment of the beauties of this work. Gustav created a fascinating recording with La Petite Bande Sigiswald Kuijken (STIL), which has now become a true rarity, despite its questionable vocalists. Happily for us, Christophe Rousset, who cherishes Rameaus’s older work, has dedicated himself to it, and offers us this gorgeously captured rendition, with French singers working under the direction of his sharp and witty leadership. The opening of the Les Talens Lyriques recital is far more vivid than anything that has been achieved in over twenty years for L’Oiseau-Lyre, in which the Ouverture immediately sets the tone. Rousset completely captures the brilliance of the score, and his imagination – which here seems insatiable – liberates his singers, who are boundlessly invested in this work; complicit in a musical resurrection. An enchantment of sorts? No. A whirlwind, rather. © Qobuz

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

Ever since Peter Shaffer's play Amadeus and the subsequent film by Milos Forman, the operas of Mozart's rival Antonio Salieri have enjoyed a revival: historians determined that not only did Salieri not poison Mozart, he admired him, and Mozart at least respected the older Italian. Indeed, Les Horaces (1786) represents several accomplishments that were not on Mozart's résumé: it is a full-scale French opera, and its recitatives are orchestrally accompanied and contribute elegantly to the action. Berlioz, always an astute critic, numbered himself among the admirers of Salieri's French operas of the 1780s; this one was not as successful as the others, but that could have been due to any number of factors. The plot deals with a woman, Camille, whose romantic life is caught between factions in a war in early Roman times, and Rousset's live reading here benefits from a strong soprano lead, Dutch singer and French Baroque specialist Judith van Wanroij. Other singers likewise step up, but the real credit goes to Rousset, who gets the strengths of Salieri's score: the grand intermèdes, and the exciting finale of Act 1, where the joining-together of action and music is in Mozart's league even if the tunes are not. Also praiseworthy is the engineering work of the curiously named Little Tribeca team, who obtain the best possible sound from none other than Versailles. Highly recommended to those who have dismissed Salieri: this is a sympathetic and enthusiastic performance of his music. © TiVo