A is for “Amadeus,” and a recording which marks a return to the source for Quatuor Zaïde, who dedicate their fourth collection to the genius Austrian composer. Z is for Zaïde, a “Singspiel” by Mozart in the style of Die Zauberflöte, which historical transcription for string quartet is a world premiere! Paired with the Quartet in G Major, No. 14, K. 387, this miniature version of one of the most famous operas repeatedly casts each instrument of the quartet in a multitude of lyric roles, celebrating the eternal dialogue between singing and playing. © Nomadmusic

In almost 20 years, since the release of the much-acclaimed Cosi fan tutte in 1999 (with Gens, Fink, Güra), René Jacobs has recorded the entirety of Mozart’s great operas, a feat considered as one of the most important discographical achievements of the beginning of the 20th century for its theatrical force, volcanic intensity of direction and vocal quality.Among this renewed collection, the recording of Die Zauberflöte is most Mozartian in nature: after the discovery of a new interpretation of his Da Ponte trilogy and a profoundly reimagined approach to two other opera serias (Idomeneo and La Clémence de Titus), Jacobs works to sensitively combine an array of perspectives in The Magic Flute, going well beyond the Masonic elements and integrating a range of theatrical genres.This sometimes rather sombre work contains a rather welcome light to it! Anna-Kristiina Kaappola’s “Queen of the night” is beautiful although less virtuoso than the former Cristina Deutekom’s rendition or the radiant “double” Pamina/Papageno by Marlis Petersn and Daniel Schmutzhard. © Qobuz“[…] Jacobs wanted a stripped down Flute, one that is de-romanticised […] and here, he works in a disc-oriented, hyper-theatrical mindset. The work displays an energy capable of charming a traditional Viennese audience (the work was created in Vienna’s Theater auf der Wieden) without losing any of its philosophical and Masonic airs […]. The interpretation includes a subtle study of dialogues: how to move from song to spoken word (the scenes with the Ladies of the Night are particularly revelatory), how to weave them into the music with the help of a loquacious and blunt pianoforte […] A masterfully captivating work in which multiple listens are required to extract all its riches […] (Diapason, novembre 2010/Michel Parouty)

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

The Swiss flutist Emmanuel Pahud has not shied away from going afield of conventional repertory over his career, playing a good deal of new music and even venturing into jazz. Yet perhaps nothing he has recorded thus far equals this album, his first on the Warner Classics label, which took over EMI's roster, for sheer daring. The album graphics do not really convey what's happening here. Yes, the 12 Fantasias for solo flute of Georg Philipp Telemann are included in full, but they're not played sequentially (which historically is probably fine). Instead, they alternate with other works, from the 20th and 21st centuries. The most famous modern flute piece, Debussy's Syrinx, is not included, but in a sense, all the other works are its descendant: the program begins just four years later, with the Sonata Appassionata, Op. 140, of Sigfrid Karg-Elert, and as annotator Denis Verroust points out, it was Syrinx that touched off what has become a full-scale revival of solo flute music. Pahud attempts to pair the Telemann sonatas with modern works that seem to reflect them. He has varying degrees of success here, but the sheer variety of the repertory he touches on is impressive, and so is the way he defamiliarizes the Telemann fantasias and gets you to pay attention to something other than the tonality. Some of the works use extended technique, but most do not, and a work like Estländler (2006) of Arvo Pärt makes a gentle, oblique connection to the fantasias that surround it. Two-plus hours of solo flute music is a lot, and Pahud, instead of choosing to conclude with something like the Pärt, throws a new Baroque element, a big set of variations by Marin Marais, into the mix. You might feel this is a bit much and yet admire the demands Pahud is making on the listener. About Warner Classics' SWR studio sound there can be little debate: it's superb, and it draws the listener strongly into what Pahud is doing.© TiVo

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

Violinist Daniel Hope's publicity for this 2024 release promotes it as "[t]racing the history of Western dance from medieval times to the 20th century." It is true that the double album includes music of many eras, from traditional pieces to the 20th century, but this formulation fails to capture the mood achieved here by the always crowd-pleasing Hope. All his selections are short, and for the most part, they jump across the centuries rather than being chronological. Hope both plays and conducts the Zürcher Kammerorchester, and the overall effect is kaleidoscopic, like one of those concerts where pieces follow one another as if in a medley, with lighting effects to match. A double album of short pieces may seem a lot, but this is Hope's point; he seeks to expose the variety of dance rhythms that course through Western classical music, in which dance is not usually thought to play a very significant role. The album is a great deal of fun, with Hope alternately picking up his violin and laying it aside and veering from Baroque dances to Florence Beatrice Price's jazzy "Ticklin' Toes" (it is good to hear her music showing up on non-U.S. releases). In the end, the energy in this big group of 42 pieces never flags.© James Manheim /TiVo

This is a nicely programmed album consisting of French song cycles spaced several decades apart from the 19th and early 20th centuries. One of them, the Mélodies Persanes ("Persian Songs") of Saint-Saëns, is not a common item; with its bouncy text-setting, nobody would compare it to the deep Eastern influences woven into various Ravel works, but then, Ravel was inspired to execute those by listening to Saint-Saëns. In Berlioz's Les nuits d'été and Ravel's Shéhérazade, contralto Marie-Nicole Lemieux has plenty of competition, but there is less for the Saint-Saëns. Another attraction is the work of the Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo under conductor Kazumi Yamada, neither a household name. The group is velvety smooth in the Berlioz cycle, with quiet and perfectly controlled string sound throughout. The strings match the voice of Lemieux beautifully; both have a luxuriance that fits the extravagantly Romantic texts of the Berlioz. So, everything is in place here, and listeners' reactions to the whole are likely to come down to their feelings about Lemieux's voice itself. It has a rapid, confident vibrato that is remarkably pitch-accurate as it moves up and down within her range. To these ears, it is beautiful. It also doesn't vary much according to the text; the Saint-Saëns songs and Ravel's Asie, which are intended to evoke exotic melodic traits, sound much like the Berlioz. A bit of sampling will likely determine one's enjoyment of the album in general, and there are certainly many things to like here.© James Manheim /TiVo

"Vieux pays merveilleux des contes de nourrice" (‘Old marvellous land of nursery tales’): These few words describe the irresistible and striking interpretation of Ravel's Shéhérazade, now of a bygone era. The timbral lows and highs radiate from Egyptian soprano Fatma Said’s voice. Her exemplary diction shines. Each word is intelligible and each sound exists to colour the word, emphasising its meaning. Nobody would have thought that the singer’s extremely versatile musicality – reminiscent of Regine Crespin’s vibrant performances – would find an even greater versatility in the orchestral version, with Malcolm Martineau’s beautifully timbred and precise piano occasionally slowing things down.The program completely immerses itself in Spain, with Rafael Aguirre’s subtle guitar substituting itself for Martineau’s piano. Other facets of Fatma Said’s voice are her musical agility and ethereal spirit, which are revealed in the two Falla pieces. The Canción de Marinela by José Serrano, where her voice thickens, will remain an unforgettable moment of sweet sensuality. It's easy to start dreaming of Said exploring some other roles in zarzuelas, for which she would be divine! The three songs by Federico García Lorca, excerpts of the 13 Canciones españolas antiguas, are rather modest and of a noble elegance, even in the carnal arabesques of Nana de Sevilla. This is the perfect transition for the ‘Arabic’ songs that Fatma Said chooses next.She introduces, for example, a pretty melody from Egyptian composer Gamal Abdel-Rahim (1924-1988), before flying off into the gorgeous Adieux de l’hôtesse arabe by Bizet where Burcu Karadağ's nev (a sort of reed flute) improvises in counterpoint alongside the vocals. The last four pieces return to the Egyptian and Lebanese standards, in a jazzy and nostalgic atmosphere. This is a captivating album with overwhelming emotion! © Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz