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

Slipknot set out to construct the ultimate metal music flamethrower, ever since their genesis in a Des Moines, IA, basement. But they also deployed an agitprop campaign of masks, smocks, and bar codes that helped scare parents (like good metal should) and transform Slipknot fans into faithful "maggots." The Midwestern origin of all this craziness is genius, as the band's marrow-draining metal and twisted, fibrous mythology is antithetical to the region's milquetoast rep. Still, after the gothic nausea of 2001's Iowa, Slipknot's vitality dissipated in clouds of gaseous hype and individual indulgence. Had they grown fat on their thrones? Probably. But the layoff only makes Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses scream louder. Working with famously bearded helmer Rick Rubin -- aka He Who Smites Bullsh*t -- Slipknot pour the shrill accessibility of their self-titled debut down Iowa's dark sieve, and the result is flinty, angry, and rewardingly restless. Vol. 3 shares its lyrical themes of anger, disaffection, and psychosis with most of Slipknot's nu-metal peers. Lines like "I've screamed until my veins collapsed" and "Push my fingers into my eyes/It's the only thing that slowly stops the ache" (from the otherwise strong "Duality") aren't unique to this cult. But unlike so many, the band's sound rarely disassembles into genre building blocks: riff + glowering vocal + throaty chorus = Ozfest acceptance. What makes Vol. 3 tick is the dedication to making it a Slipknot album, and not just another flashy alt-metal billboard. The seething anger and preoccupation with pain is valid because it's componential to the group's uniquely branded havoc. "Blister Exists," "Three Nil," and "Opium of the People" are all standouts, strafing soft underbellies with rhythmic (occasionally melodic) vocals, stuttering, quadruple-helix percussion, and muted grindcore guitar. Rubin is integral to the album's power -- his cataclysmic vocal filters and arrays of unidentifiable squiggle and squelch unite Vol. 3's various portions in wildly different ways. Just when the meditative "Circles" threatens to keel over from melodrama, in sputters strings of damaged electronics and percussion to lead it into "Welcome," which sounds like Helmet covering Relapse Records' entire catalog at once. Later, another counterpoint is offered, when the swift boot kicks of "Pulse of the Maggots" and "Before I Forget" separate "Vermilion"'s gothic and acoustic parts. Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses doesn't feel like Slipknot's final statement. It's a satisfying, carefully crafted representation of their career to date. But there's a sense that whatever Slipknot do next might be their ultimate broadcast to the faithful.© Johnny Loftus /TiVo

Slipknot set out to construct the ultimate metal music flamethrower, ever since their genesis in a Des Moines, IA, basement. But they also deployed an agitprop campaign of masks, smocks, and bar codes that helped scare parents (like good metal should) and transform Slipknot fans into faithful "maggots." The Midwestern origin of all this craziness is genius, as the band's marrow-draining metal and twisted, fibrous mythology is antithetical to the region's milquetoast rep. Still, after the gothic nausea of 2001's Iowa, Slipknot's vitality dissipated in clouds of gaseous hype and individual indulgence. Had they grown fat on their thrones? Probably. But the layoff only makes Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses scream louder. Working with famously bearded helmer Rick Rubin -- aka He Who Smites Bullsh*t -- Slipknot pour the shrill accessibility of their self-titled debut down Iowa's dark sieve, and the result is flinty, angry, and rewardingly restless. Vol. 3 shares its lyrical themes of anger, disaffection, and psychosis with most of Slipknot's nu-metal peers. Lines like "I've screamed until my veins collapsed" and "Push my fingers into my eyes/It's the only thing that slowly stops the ache" (from the otherwise strong "Duality") aren't unique to this cult. But unlike so many, the band's sound rarely disassembles into genre building blocks: riff + glowering vocal + throaty chorus = Ozfest acceptance. What makes Vol. 3 tick is the dedication to making it a Slipknot album, and not just another flashy alt-metal billboard. The seething anger and preoccupation with pain is valid because it's componential to the group's uniquely branded havoc. "Blister Exists," "Three Nil," and "Opium of the People" are all standouts, strafing soft underbellies with rhythmic (occasionally melodic) vocals, stuttering, quadruple-helix percussion, and muted grindcore guitar. Rubin is integral to the album's power -- his cataclysmic vocal filters and arrays of unidentifiable squiggle and squelch unite Vol. 3's various portions in wildly different ways. Just when the meditative "Circles" threatens to keel over from melodrama, in sputters strings of damaged electronics and percussion to lead it into "Welcome," which sounds like Helmet covering Relapse Records' entire catalog at once. Later, another counterpoint is offered, when the swift boot kicks of "Pulse of the Maggots" and "Before I Forget" separate "Vermilion"'s gothic and acoustic parts. Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses doesn't feel like Slipknot's final statement. It's a satisfying, carefully crafted representation of their career to date. But there's a sense that whatever Slipknot do next might be their ultimate broadcast to the faithful.© Johnny Loftus /TiVo

You'll need your latest smartphone if you want to understand anything about the latest albums by the wacky German organist Jörg Halubek. Of course, the name Halubek is already a bit of an in-joke itself if one considers the journey to Lübeck (!) that Bach made in 1705, on foot, to meet Dietrich Buxtehude, the greatest German composer of his time. Underneath the GPS coordinates of the places and instruments frequented by Bach, we see Jörg Halubek from the back, looking out over the endless sea as in a painting by Caspar David Friedrich.More seriously, Jörg Halubek is a complete musician. An organist and harpsichordist, he also studied period performance practice with Jesper Christensen and Andrea Marcon at the Schola Cantorum in Basel, before forming his own ensemble, il Gusto Barocco, with whom he has made several recordings. This new volume of his Bach complete works, "Bach Organ Landscapes", undertaken since 2019 for the Berlin Classics label, takes us this time to Hamburg.Together with the Toccata in C, BWV 564, the works on this album represent the influence of the North German style on Bach's music. There are also some works composed before the trip to Lübeck and chorale preludes from his apprenticeship in Lüneburg. This project is based on ten historical organ builders who played a role in the life of Johann Sebastian Bach. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Colin Davis' studio recording of Massenet's Werther, starring José Carreras and Frederica von Stade, won Gramophone's Engineering Award in 1981 for good reason; it is one of the best-sounding operatic recordings you'll ever hear. The sense of theatrical space, the warmth of tone, and the overall balance between voices and orchestra are as good as studio opera recordings get. Davis' conducting is just as fine, eliciting stunningly warm and vivid playing from the Royal Opera House orchestra. Just the third act, in which Frederica von Stade invests Charlotte's struggles over her feelings for Werther with amazing pathos and vocal beauty, is enough to make her recording of the role an all-time great performance. And the supporting contributions of Thomas Allen, Isobel Buchanan, and Robert Lloyd are good enough to make you wish this most couple-centric of operas gave them all more stage time. In the end, however, any Werther is judged by its tenor, and one's response to this recording is likely to hinge on the performance of José Carreras. His distinctively dark sound and heavy-footed style effuse anything but the youthfulness that would explain Werther's impetuous behavior. But they do lend the character more gravity, and more potency, than some of the more elegant tenors who have made a name in the role, like Alfredo Kraus (many people's favorite choice for this opera). And it could be argued that Carreras' approach, which often seems as much about him as about the drama, is the very embodiment of selfishness -- and who is more selfish in the end than Werther? Choosing a favorite Werther is a matter of taste. But as an overall representation of the opera, this has to be considered a top contender.© TiVo

It's one of those fairy stories that the world of lyrical music likes to keep secret. Still an unknown and barely emerged from the La Scala Lyrical Academy, Georgian mezzo-soprano Anita Rachvelishvili was given the title role in Carmen by Baremboim, alongside Jonas Kaufman: an international career seemed to beckon for the young singer. And so here we will hear some of opera's great tunes, including, of course, the hits from Carmen, but also the two great arias from Samson et Dalila by Saint-Saëns, a pair from Verdi, a touch of Mascagni, some Rimski – less-frequently performed, it is true – and a rarity from his compatriot Dimitri Arakishvili (1873-1953) whose style is solidly anchored in the Russia of his day, with several, probably regional, twists. Since 2009, she has sung Carmen's role around three hundred times, and we can only hope that she never gets bogged down in it - and takes on Santuzza, Eboli, Dalil: in other words, the great characters of the dramatic mezzo repertoire. © SM/Qobuz

Jules Massenet’s numerous operas (notably Manon and Werther) have somewhat overshadowed his symphonic works, not to mention his oratorios and melodies. At the head of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, French conductor Jean-Luc Tingaud brings some of his forgotten manuscripts back to life.Visions is a symphonic poem modelled on works by Liszt – particularly his famous Preludes. It was inspired by his travels, as Massenet said himself: “The last hour of the day, in the high and sad solitudes of Simplon. The traveller there has fallen asleep, but his sleep is disturbed by visions that are calm or agitated, smiling or terrible. He wakes up. Around him it is night...he no longer dreams, he listens and thinks he hears a voice dear to his memory.”Brumaire was written for a historical drama commemorating Napoleon’s coup d'etat that ended the 'Directoire' period. The Overture for “Phaedra”, written at the Pasdeloup Orchestra’s request, is considered one of Massenet’s best instrumental works and has long been included in the symphonic repertoire. The incidental music for Les Erinnyes and his ballet Espada show Massenet’s appeal for exoticism – something that was fashionable at the time. This aspect of his music is still largely undiscovered. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Antonio Pappano leads a sensuous and dramatically taut reading of Werther on EMI's all-star release. Werther is one of the most intimate and interior of operas, and Pappano successfully captures the mood of the protagonist's turmoil that constitutes its real drama. The leads are in strong voice and make dramatic impressions as the victims of passion in whose face they feel helpless. Roberto Alagna's Werther is consumed with love and anguish, and he sings with a ringing, heroic tone. Angela Gheorghiu's Charlotte is capable of expressing the fire that finally ignites in the third act, and her tone is pure and true, but she sounds a little mature for a 20 year old and misses the girlishness that makes Charlotte's predicament so poignant. In Werther's death scene, both are hugely moving. Thomas Hampson's voice is rich and dark, and he ably conveys the complexity of Albert's emotions. In a bit of luxury casting, Patricia Petibon sparkles as the adolescent Sophie. The smaller roles are well taken, and the singers make the most of their vignettes. The London Symphony responds with sensitivity to Pappano's fluid tempi and plays with gorgeous tone. EMI's sound is ideal -- realistically present, with excellent balance.© TiVo

This Werther is conducted beautifully by Yves Abel, whose discography also includes Renée Fleming's Thaïs and Susan Graham's excellent C'est la vie, c'est l'amour. He elicits a passionate and beautifully haloed performance from the orchestra of Bologna's Teatro Comunale, sprinkled with exquisite soloistic moments and rousing climaxes. Also turning in noteworthy performances are: Magali Léger, whose sunny performance as the optimistic Sophie bears a striking resemblance to a young Natalie Dessay; and Giorgio Giuseppini as the Bailiff, who brings much-needed warmth of both voice and spirit to the production. The package also has informative and approachable liner notes by Arthur Holmberg.Andrea Bocelli's previous opera recordings have exposed a lack of vocal presence and polish on the part of their star: flat delivery, shaky intonation, clipped and often prosaic phrasing, and a lack of expressive range. In this, Werther is no exception, and because it is Werther those qualities detract more from the overall effect of the production than they have from his previous efforts. Werther is, after all, the character that launched the Romantic conception of manhood, in which overt emotionalism became a fashionable quality. We shouldn't love Werther for what he does; in fact, his actions should reveal him to be selfish and somewhat pitiable. We shouldn't even love him for what he feels. But the strength of those feelings, and the completeness of Werther's surrender to them should resonate with our idealism, our dreams, and our yearning to make our deepest inner convictions real without compromise. As realized here by Bocelli, that's a tough ask. There is no variety of sound or expression, let alone any sense that he is oscillating between extremes of joy and despair. Massenet's fluid writing and gorgeous melodies still stir feeling, but they are forced to struggle against the flat, executorial delivery of their protagonist. Bocelli's French sounds phonetically self-conscious, and often not quite right, and his rhythmic cadence is flat footed. This Werther is altogether too careful and unchanging to touch off an emotional revolution. As Charlotte, Julia Gertseva displays a hefty, dark-hued voice that has the power to deal with Massenet's often heavy orchestration, but which often lapses into harshness. Her diction is unclear, and at times she seems more concerned with the mechanics of singing than with the dynamics of a scene. It's a capable, but not particularly winning performance that might come off better if she had more of a foil in Bocelli.© TiVo

Antonio Pappano leads a sensuous and dramatically taut reading of Werther on EMI's all-star release. Werther is one of the most intimate and interior of operas, and Pappano successfully captures the mood of the protagonist's turmoil that constitutes its real drama. The leads are in strong voice and make dramatic impressions as the victims of passion in whose face they feel helpless. Roberto Alagna's Werther is consumed with love and anguish, and he sings with a ringing, heroic tone. Angela Gheorghiu's Charlotte is capable of expressing the fire that finally ignites in the third act, and her tone is pure and true, but she sounds a little mature for a 20 year old and misses the girlishness that makes Charlotte's predicament so poignant. In Werther's death scene, both are hugely moving. Thomas Hampson's voice is rich and dark, and he ably conveys the complexity of Albert's emotions. In a bit of luxury casting, Patricia Petibon sparkles as the adolescent Sophie. The smaller roles are well taken, and the singers make the most of their vignettes. The London Symphony responds with sensitivity to Pappano's fluid tempi and plays with gorgeous tone. EMI's sound is ideal -- realistically present, with excellent balance.© TiVo

Antonio Pappano leads a sensuous and dramatically taut reading of Werther on EMI's all-star release. Werther is one of the most intimate and interior of operas, and Pappano successfully captures the mood of the protagonist's turmoil that constitutes its real drama. The leads are in strong voice and make dramatic impressions as the victims of passion in whose face they feel helpless. Roberto Alagna's Werther is consumed with love and anguish, and he sings with a ringing, heroic tone. Angela Gheorghiu's Charlotte is capable of expressing the fire that finally ignites in the third act, and her tone is pure and true, but she sounds a little mature for a 20 year old and misses the girlishness that makes Charlotte's predicament so poignant. In Werther's death scene, both are hugely moving. Thomas Hampson's voice is rich and dark, and he ably conveys the complexity of Albert's emotions. In a bit of luxury casting, Patricia Petibon sparkles as the adolescent Sophie. The smaller roles are well taken, and the singers make the most of their vignettes. The London Symphony responds with sensitivity to Pappano's fluid tempi and plays with gorgeous tone. EMI's sound is ideal -- realistically present, with excellent balance.© TiVo