The musical world owes a debt of gratitude to French conductor Christophe Rousset not only for the vital, exquisite performances he delivers with the ensembles Les Talens Lyriques and Choeur de Chambre de Namur, but for his work in bringing to light neglected masterpieces of Baroque opera. Lully's Bellérophon, premiered in 1679, was a huge success in its time, with an initial run of nine months. Part of its popularity was doubtless due to the parallels that could be drawn between its plot and certain recent exploits of Louis XV, but even the earliest critics recognized the score's uniqueness and exceptional quality within Lully's oeuvre, so it's perhaps surprising that it has never been recorded before. The distinctiveness of the music was likely a result at least in part of the fact that Lully's preferred librettist Philippe Quinault was out of favor at the court of Louis XV at the time, so the composer turned to Thomas Corneille for the libretto, and Corneille's literary and dramatic styles were so different from Quinault's that Lully was nudged out of his comfort zone and had to develop new solutions to questions of structure and the marrying of music to text. It is the first opera for which Lully composed fully accompanied recitatives, and that alone gives it a textural richness that surpasses his earlier works. The composer also allows soloists to sing together, something that was still a rarity in Baroque opera. There are several duets and larger ensembles; the love duet, "Que tout parle à l'envie de notre amour extreme!," is a ravishing expression of passion and happiness, as rhapsodic as anything in 19th century Italian opera. The level of musical inventiveness throughout is exceptional even for Lully; the expressiveness of the recitatives, the charm of the instrumental interludes, the originality of the choruses, and the limpid loveliness of the airs make this an opera that demands attention. Rousset and his forces give an outstanding performance that's exuberantly spirited, musically polished, rhythmically springy, and charged with dramatic urgency. The soloists are consistently of the highest order. Cyril Auvity brings a large, virile, passionate tenor to the title role and Céline Scheen is warmly lyrical as his lover Philonoë. Ingrid Perruche is fiercely powerful as the villain, Stéenobée, and Jean Teitgen is a secure, authoritative Apollo. Soloists, chorus, and orchestra are fluent in the subtle inflections of French middle Baroque ornamentation. The sound of the live recording is very fine, with a clean, immediate, realistic ambience. This is a release that fans of Baroque opera will not want to miss. Highly recommended. © TiVo

L'amour de loin (2000) is Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho's first opera, but the mastery of its memorably dramatic music demonstrates incontrovertibly that she is a born opera composer. The opera has had numerous international productions and in 2003 it received the Grawemeyer Award, the most prestigious international award for composition. Saariaho was inspired to write an opera after seeing the 1992 Salzburg Festival production of Messiaen's Saint François d'Assise, so it is not surprising that her first effort would be more concerned with introspection than with conventionally operatic drama. The French libretto, by Armin Maalouf, deals with twelfth century troubadour Jaufre Rudel, and the legend of his love for the Countess of Tripoli. Separated by thousands of miles, the two had an erotically charged but unconsummated relationship, which in the opera is sustained by messages carried between them by a Pilgrim. The poet finally makes the voyage to meet his love, only to die in her arms. For a work on such an intimate subject with such an understated dramatic profile, L'amour de loin feels like a very big opera. Saariaho is dealing with large emotions, and what it lacks in outward theatricality is more than made up for in the vividness and depth with which it probes the psychology of its characters. The orchestra and chorus are vehicles for making audible the lovers' states of mind, which are frequently roiling with conflict and anxiety, and the music is consequently turbulent, powerful, and often very loud. (It's closer in tone to Tristan and Isolde than to Pelléas et Mélisande, two tragedies of thwarted love that it resembles in some ways.) Saariaho's counterintuitive take on Maalouf's intensely inward libretto works brilliantly. The ravishing orchestral palette, deft blend of Medieval and contemporary musical traditions, and gorgeous choral and vocal writing make this is a work that seems destined to endure. Saariaho's text setting is exceptionally graceful and limber, and it's performed beautifully by the superlative singers on this recording. Mezzo-soprano Marie-Anne Todorovitch's shapely vocal interpretation invests the Pilgrim with so much nuanced individuality that the listener cannot help being drawn to the character. Her supple, infinitely colorful voice is responsive to the most subtle dramatic cues in the text and music; this is the kind of fully realized performance that opera composers dream of. The same can be said for soprano Ekaterina Lekhina and baritone Daniel Belcher as the lovers; the startling purity and focus of their voices, and the intensity and subtlety with which they inhabit their roles, make them absolutely compelling, both musically and dramatically. Kent Nagano leads Rundfunkchor Berlin and Deutsches Symphonie-Orchestra Berlin in a luminous reading of the richly variegated score. Harmonia Mundi's sound is pure, full, and warmly atmospheric. This outstanding performance of L'amour de loin should be of strong interest not only to fans of contemporary opera, but of new music in general, and to lovers of bel canto singing. Highly recommended. © TiVo

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

Maurice Ravel's Le tombeau de Couperin has sometimes been paired with music by its namesake, naturally enough, but here, pianist Martin James Bartlett expands the concept a bit, adding Rameau at the beginning, some little two-piano pieces by Reynaldo Hahn and Ravel's apocalyptic La valse as a grand finale. The result is that he looks outward from the neoclassic world, catching the memorial function of Le tombeau de Couperin (the work's six movements memorialize friends of the composer killed in World War I) and carrying overtones of the whole world that vanished with the war. The inclusion of the pair of two-piano pieces from Le ruban dénoué by the intensely nostalgic Hahn intensifies the mood. Bartlett's tone is measured, avoiding sentiment and holding to an elevated aesthetic. His La valse has an impact that is all the greater in this context. Ravel denied that this work was a symbolic representation of the decline of the old central European culture or of anything else, but one might rejoin that he did not have to realize it for this to be so. Hahn plays the work in its single-piano arrangement, made by Ravel. This is not often heard, due not only to its sheer difficulty but also because of its swirling density. Having introduced the second piano of Alexandre Tharaud in the Hahn works, Bartlett could easily have kept it on for the Ravel. However, his decision was intelligent; the single-piano arrangement has an overwhelming quality that works very well here. This is an unusually cohesive and powerful program, beautifully performed, and the album landed on classical best-seller lists in early 2024.© James Manheim /TiVo

Recording Ravel's music on period instruments is the kind of thing that might raise a smile... until you realise just how much the production of instruments has changed in less than a hundred years: it's the return of catgut strings, skin drum heads, the French basson (and not the German system bassoon which is used across all the world's orchestras today), shaper tips, trumpets and trombones of French manufacture. At the head of his orchestra Les Siècles, François-Xavier Roth gives a new, orthodox, historically-informed version of Ma Mère l’oye (complete ballet), the Tombeau de Couperin and Shéhérazade, the long-neglected "ouverture de féérie" [Fairy Overture] which is pure Ravel. This return to the roots is clearly easier and more straightforwardly authentic for this period of music history, because, unlike earlier works, we possess recordings which date back to the 1920s, and even earlier, which can tell us about the style, the colours, the phrasing and the tempo. But it isn't enough just to have all this historical information to hand to make something interesting. What makes this record thrilling is that all the musicians in the Siècles are excellent, and François-Xavier Roth is a talented artist himself, who knows this music inside out. At which point, his complete recording of Stravinsky's Firebird has already struck us with its quality. This rediscovery of Ravel resounds with clarity and finesse; it is a feast of well-defined timbres which cuts against the "beautiful sound" which prevails in orchestras around the world today. © François Hudry/Qobuz

It is hard to shake the feeling that Alexandre Tharaud and Jean-Guihen Queyras are committing a radical crime of lèse-majesté here. However, this is soon forgotten after you hear the first bars of their new album. They are understandably enthralled with Marin Marais’ fabulous music, and have thus decided to put their own spin on it by transcribing it for their own instruments: a modern piano and cello.This joyful transgression is in keeping with the interpretations from the beginning of the last century, when Fritz Kreisler and his peers were not afraid to play—or even pastiche—the music they loved without any concern for historical accuracy. These two musicians, on the other hand, are ‘historically informed’. They’ve listened to Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Jordi Savall, Ton Koopman and Hopkinson Smith whilst recreating Marin Marais’ music in their own way, adapting it to instruments that would have been unknown to him.Under their nimble fingers, ‘Les Folies d’Espagne’ becomes a frantic dance, ‘Le Badinage’ sounds like something straight out of a Watteau painting, and ‘Opération de la taille’ is almost humorous. Here, Alexandre Tharaud and Jean-Guihen Queyras share their love for subtle and refined music, speaking to listeners on a level that goes beyond that of a mere reconstruction. © François Hudry/Qobuz

A huge record! A must! This is a merger of two Supraphon LPs which were released in the 1960s. Boasting a dazzling cast, with four of the greatest singers of the Czech national scene (Libuše Domanínská, Marie Mrázová, Ivo Žídek, Dalibor Jedlička!), Les Noces was recorded between the 28th and 30th of May 1964 in the Rudolfinum Studio in Prague, while the Cantata and the Mass were recorded three years later in the Domovina Studio - on the 3rd and 4th of April, and the 20th of June 1967 for the Cantata, and on the 28th and 29th of March for the Mass.Karel Ančerl's Les Noces are unforgettable in more ways than one: the rhythmic acuity and vocal and instrumental precision never obscure the very authentic, often mischievous tone of these strange 'Russian choreographic scenes'. Karel Ančerl achieves heights of poetic intensity in the final passage, in which the gamelan melody gradually encroaches upon the musical space, before triumphing immediately after Jedlička's sublime story is concluded.The other side of this 2004 reissue is no less vital. In comparison to the very fine version by Colin Davis (1964), in Karel Ančerl's hands the Cantata becomes a marvel of fluidity; the woodwinds of the Czech Philharmonic shine in the 'verses'. And the two singers, both the marvellous Barbara Robotham with her incredibly luscious tone in Ricercar I and Gerald English, perfect in style, spirit and singing (especially the high notes!), in his long and very difficult narrative segment in Ricercar II, are absolutely unmatched by any other recording of this material. This is pure poetry. A more difficult score, the Mass displays all the spirit of its darker side (Gloria), and its powerful harmonies. Once again, the Czech Philharmonic provides great moments of musical beauty. These are impressive recordings, without a doubt. © Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz

The appeal of Gabriel Fauré's music is difficult to capture in a program devoted exclusively to the composer, but pianist Louis Lortie has pulled it off here. The trick is to present an intimate program that would have held together in the small venues for which Fauré intended his music. Lortie writes that "this album purposely travels through Fauré's various creative periods," and that's part of it: Fauré and his contemporaries would not have discarded his earlier music in recital. Consider the Pavane in F sharp minor, Op. 50, so often presented as a kind of glassed-in delicacy. Here it's something else entirely: a moment of stasis from which the subsequent pieces unfold as if in a dance. Central to the program are the three Barcarolles, Nos. 5, 6, and 7, again not put together, but placed in contrast to the works that surround them, each with a different treatment of the basic gondolier inspiration. Beyond the intelligently structured program is Lortie's wonderfully restrained playing in the individual pieces: the temperature never rises above warm, but every single thing is lively. Sample anywhere, but you could start with the rather rare original piano versions of the incidental music to Pelléas et Mélisande or with the subtle, chromatic Nine Preludes, Op. 103, that conclude the disc. A fine Fauré cornerstone to an album collection, beautifully recorded by Chandos at the Snape Maltings Concert Hall.© TiVo