Christophe Rousset and his Les Talens Lyriques continue their exploration of the operas of Jean-Baptiste Lully for the Aparte label with 1675's Thésée ("Theseus"), the composer's third "tragédie en musique" with librettist by Philippe Quinault. Commissioned by King Louis XIV, the libretto recounts some early-life exploits of the titular character from Ovid's Metamorphoses. It was immensely popular for more than a century before finding itself in less demand than later, more compact versions of Quinault's text, which were set by composers such as Handel (Teseo, 1712). What is there for a king and his court not to like when the Prologue declares the king a god and sings the praises of king and kingdom? Rousset has his Les Talens Lyriques in fine form, and the ensemble plays crisply and concisely throughout. Rousset, conducting from the harpsichord, keeps the action moving in this colossal and dramatic work. The soloists, especially mezzo-soprano Karine Deshayes as Médée ("Medea") and tenor Mathias Vidal as the titular Thésée, display clear expertise in the realm of early French opera. This work is a major vehicle for mezzos in the role of the jealous sorceress Médée, and Deshayes is splendid. The Prologue has some awkward, almost hesitant singing from the chorus, but as the work progresses, the Chœur de chambre de Namur becomes stronger and, in the end, proves to be an asset to the whole (consider their turn as the inhabitants of the underworld with Deshayes on "Sortez, ombres, sortez de la nuit éternelle" from Act Two). This is a worthy addition of a lesser-known opera to the growing Lully collection from Les Talens Lyriques.© Keith Finke /TiVo

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

In 1743, two years before Rameau’s Platée, Boismortier created an extraordinarily modern and madcap "comic ballet", Don Quichotte chez la Duchesse. As the exuberant plotunfurls, Cervantes’ hero encounters monsters, enchanters, princesses and people from Japan, making for plenty of offbeat and audacious dances and choruses. Musical beautyrubs shoulders with satirical and irreverent comedy. A choice work for Hervé Niquet, who leads his Concert Spirituel with unparalleled energy! © Château de Versailles Spectacles

While Mozart was largely overlooked in the French capital, Antonio Salieri took on the reigns of the Académie Royale de Musique (Paris Opera), a fruitful collaboration that was completely broken up by the French Revolution. After the success of his work Les Danaïdes, composed for Paris in 1784, Salieri worked tirelessly with Beaumarchais, spurred on by the success and scandal of his Figaro, on a new project which would become Tarare. Beaumarchais moved himself shamelessly toward stardom, skillfully self-promoting and attending rehearsals so as to assure that the orchestra played pianissimo to emphasize the primacy of his verse during performances. Beaumarchais found that the music was too overwhelming to “embellish the lyrics”.Created one year after Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro (which was relatively well-received in Vienna before triumphing in Prague), Tarare was an immense success in Paris maintaining the status of the composer’s repertoire despite the political turmoil of the time before disappearing from view around 1826, thereon ceasing to be played. Beaumarchais’ words were immediately adapted into Italian by Lorenzo Da Ponte to be performed and met with equal success in Vienna. Tarare is half lyrical tragedy, half comic opera with a hint of orientalism.After resuscitating Les Danaïdes and Les Horaces, Christophe Rousset finished off his series of recordings dedicated to Salieri’s French operas for the Parisian public. Tarare is very much of its time, that of the Lumières, and used the power of art to challenge despotism in all its forms. Thanks to Christophe Rousset’s excellent delivery and lively direction, this recording enables one to judge the merits of the composition and the chasm that separates an honest and talented musician from a solitary and impassioned one like Mozart. © François Hudry/Qobuz

The French-Cypriot soprano Sarah Aristidou joins Alpha and here presents her very first album. Twice named "Best Newcomer" by Opernwelt for two contemporary creations, she is a favourite interpreter of Jörg Widmann who has already written two works for her, and has sung under the direction of Daniel Barenboim, Sir Simon Rattle and François-Xavier Roth. Barenboim opened the doors of Berlin to her and the Orchester des Wandels, a group of musicians from several German orchestras, including the Staatskapelle Berlin, who have set themselves the objective of practising their art in a way that protects the planet: limiting the carbon footprint in all their activities, including this album. The packaging of the physical version is plastic-free and printed with organic ink. Alpha also supports the reforestation programme in Madagascar initiated by the orchestra. In addition to the encounter between the young singer and the unique orchestra, this project is also the result of Sarah’s passion for Iceland (the land of Aether par excellence?). Along with the director and photographer Weronika Izdebska, she has created a film exalting the natural world which will be shown in Berlin in November 2021 as part of an installation presenting the entire programme. © Alpha Classics

André Cardinal Destouches (1672-1749) is virtually unknown today, but he was the preeminent composer of French opera in the half century between the end of Lully's career and the beginning of Rameau's. On the basis of this fine recording of Callirhoé, considered one of his most important operas, the neglect is difficult to understand. Its strength lies not so much in its originality -- it basically develops the conventions established by Lully -- but in the music's ability to illuminate the drama. Destouches was clearly a master of music for the theater; his scenes build with power and inexorability, and his dramatic confrontations, in particular, are vividly expressed. The conclusion of the second act, for example, depicting the priests of Bacchus going on a rampage, has a wildness and energy one usually associates not so much with the Baroque as with the heat of the Romantic era. The starkness of the opera's finale, which abruptly ends with a character's suicide, is brilliant theater, but entirely out of character with the conventions of the time, which would have required a tidy denouement, and most likely, the intervention of a deity. The first, 1712 version of Callirhoé, in fact, had just such an ending, but the composer revised the opera extensively for revivals in 1731 and 1743, and wisely rethought the finale, hugely increasing its effectiveness. Destouches' vocal writing is expressive and gratifyingly lyrical, and even his recitatives have emotional power. His orchestration is notably varied and colorful. The recording is the result of the commitment and passion of Hervé Niquet, director of Le Concert Spirituel, which he leads in this outstanding performance. The orchestra and chorus perform with energy and finesse, and the climaxes are thrillingly urgent. The soloists, none of whom are international stars, sound like they ought to be, singing with unfailing purity, idiomatic security, and dramatic intensity. Glossa's exemplary sound is full, warm, and spacious, with excellent balance. Callirhoé should be of strong interest to any fan of Baroque opera, and a reminder of the wealth of strong repertoire that has yet to achieve broad exposure. © TiVo

Once again, Alpha has released a package that combines aesthetic edification with intellectual education, superlative performances with exquisite production values, sublime art with mundane commerce. The conceit here is Jean-Henri d'Anglebert's virtuosic and characterful harpsichord suites, as well as his arrangements of excerpts from Lully's ballets and operas played by Céline Frisch, coupled with performances of Lully's originals played by Café Zimmerman, and concluded with Frisch playing five of d'Anglebert's fugues for organ. Thus the listener is able to hear not only insightful and exciting performances of d'Anglebert's music, but to hear them in context of brilliant performances of the originals, thereby setting the seal on d'Anglebert's inventiveness. Frisch is a first-rate player with a powerful technique, a complete command of the keyboard, and a wonderfully fresh approach to the repertoire. The chamber orchestra Café Zimmerman attacks Lully's originals with spirit, sensitivity, and fire. And as always, Alpha's sound is warm, close, and real. Anyone who enjoys the music of the French Baroque will enjoy this two-disc set.© TiVo

Jean-Baptiste Lully, born Giovanni Battista Lulli in Florence in 1632, moved to France early in his career. By the time he turned 30, he had been named music master to the royal family and elevated to the nobility. Italian opera, particularly the works of Cavalli, had become hugely popular in France, and Lully took up the task of creating a tradition of native French opera. In 1775, in collaboration with librettist Philippe Quinault, Lully produced Thésée, a "tragédie en musique," which marked a turning point in the synthesis of music, dramaturgy, and dance, and became the model for French opera for nearly a century, until the reforms of Gluck. CPO's splendid new recording of the opera finally gives listeners the opportunity to hear what made the opera so historic. Thésée's plot is complex, but not incomprehensible or ridiculous -- the characters are distinctly drawn, motivated by simple hopes and fears with which any audience could easily identify. Lully's music aptly underlines the dramatic situations, and while he doesn't use anything as specific as leitmotivs, the various characters are associated with particular styles of music. His recitatives are naturalistically set and are more like arioso than secco recitative, and they flow easily into the set pieces. The music is strongly expressive, full of variety, and the orchestration is colorfully inventive. The performance by the orchestra and chorus of the Boston Early Music Festival, led by Paul O'Dette and Stephen Stubbs, is above reproach, bringing the music and drama fully to life. The soloists are uniformly jaw-droppingly accomplished, which is quite an achievement in an opera with over a dozen important roles. Each soloist sings with gorgeous tone, powerful, dramatic characterization, and complete assurance in the subtleties of period ornamentation. The sound quality is ideal -- natural sounding and also absolutely clean, with excellent balance. CPO's Thésée is easily one of the finest Baroque operas on disc; serious opera lovers deserve to treat themselves to this historic and revelatory recording. © TiVo

Beware the pen of a critic. When in 1720 an arrangement of Domenico Scarlatti’s 1714 opera Amor d’un’Ombra e Gelosia d’un’aura arrived at the King’s Theatre, Haymarket, Charles Burney’s pen was gently damning. “Though there were many new pleasing passages and effects”, proclaimed London’s esteemed writer on all things musical, “those acquainted with the original and happy freaks of this composer in his harpsichord music, would be surprised at the sobriety and almost dullness of the songs”; and over the ensuing centuries, critical opinion has largely persisted with the line that Scarlatti’s best work is to be found not among his vocal or instrumental works, but instead among the 555 harpsichord sonatas he wrote for the Portuguese Queen of Spain, María Bárbara. Now though, here is a multi-genre Scarlatti programme from Bertrand Cuiller and his period instrument ensemble Le Caravansérail, its aim to enable the listener to reach his or her own conclusion as to Scarlatti’s wider worth. Although with repertoire and performances as fine as these, it’s perfectly clear which side Cuiller wants us to come down upon. Not least he opens with a piece of shameless wooing: the famous Sonata in G major, K. 144, but heard not on harpsichord but instead from harpist from Bérengère Sardin in a performance of melting warm fragility and hope-filled nobility. Then with that still ringing in your ears comes one of the few surviving examples of Scarlatti’s sacred music, the Stabat Mater in C minor with its rich, ten-voice texture supported by basso continuo accompaniment alone; and instantly your ears are locking on to that continuo section’s harp-reminiscent archlute, and thus becoming extra-alive to the accompaniment’s poeticism, even as the clear-toned voices unfurl over it and entwine around each other, themselves bringing definition and lucidity to even the score’s most lavishly contrapuntal vocal writing. Onwards and there’s a D minor instrumental feast: violinist Leila Schayegh’s sombre, expressive reading of the Sonata, K. 90, one of a few harpsichord sonatas that appears to present the option of choosing a solo instrument on the melodic line; then, following a nimbly urgent ensemble reading of Charles Avison’s “concerto grosso” transcription of another harpsichord sonata, Cuiller himself bringing gossamer-weight lyricism to Harpsichord Sonata, K. 213. As for the secular vocal works, the numbers from Amor d’un’Ombra e Gelosia d’un’aura more than hold their own here, thanks to soprano Emmanuelle de Negri and countertenor Paul-Antoine Bénos-Djian’s committed performances, while an album highlight is the lilting melancholic expression brought by de Negri to ”Pur nel sonno almen tal’ora vien colei” from the Cantata “Pur nel sonno almen” – composed to a Metastasio poem that appears to have been given to Scarlatti by star countertenor Farinelli, and thus inevitably sounding like a composer inspired to give his best. In short, in the case of Cuiller versus Burney, it’s a win for Cuiller. Also, indeed, for Scarlatti. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz