Complete recordings of great works such as Bach’s sonatas, his “Well-Tempered Clavier,” or Chopin’s “24 Preludes” occupy a unique place within the history of musical recording. It’s in their entirety that they are most unique and powerful, whereas in the purity of their repertoire, individual pieces are generally regarded as being largely heterogeneous. These timeless compositions transcend their authors and are given new life with each interpretation, and such is the case with Bach’s “Goldberg Variations.” Published in 1741, as the fourth and last part of his Clavier-Übung, the “Goldberg Variations” still remain, almost 300 years later, amongst the baroque master’s most important works, not only for the history of musical composition and recording in general (Glenn Gould, Trevor Pinnock, Rosalyn Tureck, and many others come to mind), but also for Víkingur Ólafsson in particular. “I’ve been dreaming of recording this work for 25 years,” says the Icelandic pianist, thus confirming that these studies are more a life’s work than a whim.Beginning with a melody that’s simple in appearance, the work is spread over a total of 30 variations, becoming a masterpiece of complexity. Determined, at surface level, by a rigid formal framework, the material itself nevertheless demands a “sort of interpretive improvisation”. Ólafsson recognises this paradox and makes it his own not by interpreting the different variations with technical precision and a strict loyalty to the metronome, but rather by following cyclical impulses and organic interpretation. At the same time, he evolves with the work and transcends it, whether in the creativity of the fugues or the complexity of the different canons, which influence one another, rely on one another, and, finally, like a parabola, return to the first melody and the beginning of all that had transpired previously -  like the ebb and flow of the Icelandic ocean, whose waves we know will always return to shore, but whose calm or strength we can never be sure of. © Lena Germann/Qobuz

We love Laufey, and Laufey loves love, as demonstrated on her sophomore album Bewitched. The Los Angeles-based Chinese/Icelandic chantress sweeps us away, reminding us all what it is like to be young and in love. Whether it's love for a friend, a lover, or a love of life, this release is sure to open your eyes, ears and heart. Laufey leans effortlessly into her suave jazz edges, and with huge payoff. From the opening track "Dreamer," the listener is transported to a mid-century era of Jule Styne-esque musicals and films. Bewitched beautifully showcases her deep, full-bodied vocals and storytelling prowess, which she has masterfully developed since her enchanting debut Everything I Know About Love.  Laufey even flexes her compositional skills beyond just songwriting on instrumental track "Nocturne (Interlude)" and on "Promise," where her sweeping arrangements are performed by the London Philharmonia, whose film score credits include Battle of the Bulge and Oliver Twist. From captivating vocal jazz ballads to epic orchestral pop like "Lovesick" (the kind of track you could see the lead character of a romcom betting from a car window), Laufey seamlessly connects different musical histories and genres. Listening to Bewitched is like being dipped in and out of the pinnacle love scene of 14 different films, and you're not sure whether you want to dance, cry or sing jubilantly. The latest jewel in Laufey's illustrious growing crown. © Jessica Porter-Langson / Qobuz

The virtuoso Marc-André Hamelin isn't the first pianist one would think of when it comes to Fauré's music, but he has recorded all kinds of things, even ragtime, and as it happens, he does quite well with the dense miniatures heard on this album. Fauré's Nocturnes are at some level connected to Chopin's but are quite different, with murky chromaticism, especially in the later ones, setting the night atmosphere. Fauré is thought of as a musical conservative, but one would hardly know it from the pieces here that stubbornly refuse to settle on a tonal center. The counterpoint is complex, and a successful performance is one that untangles it. There isn't big, pianistic virtuosity here, but Hamelin's ability to balance Fauré's registers is virtuosic in its own way. The Barcarolles, a genre not much pursued by other composers but for Fauré seeming to allow rays of Venetian sunshine into his rather closed-in French world, are lighter but basically cut from the same cloth. Things lighten up with the final Dolly Suite, Op. 56, where Hamelin performs with his wife, Cathy Fuller. (For those wondering, neither Mi-a-ou nor the Kitty-valse has anything to do with cats.) Although Hyperion's church sound is not idiomatic, it does not damage the remarkable clarity in what is a significant entry in the Fauré discography, one that landed on classical best-seller lists in the late summer of 2023.© James Manheim /TiVo

This triple album wraps up the Shostakovich by conductor Andris Nelsons and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. The series has had much to recommend it, and Nelsons, by his own admission as a Latvian, has as strong a grasp of Shostakovich's ambivalent attitude toward the Soviet state as anyone. Left for last here are possibly the four least-performed Shostakovich symphonies: two early rather avant-garde pieces, the Symphony No. 12 in D minor, Op 112 ("The Year 1917"), and the Symphony No. 13 in B flat minor, Op. 113 ("Babi Yar"). All of these works are programmatic, and most of them have voices. The Symphony No. 13 is a vocal-choral-orchestral work (baritone Matthias Goerne and the Tanglewood Festival Chorus and New England Conservatory Symphonic Choir join Nelsons and the Symphony). The best is saved for last; Goerne approaches this tragic work, marking the massacre of Ukrainian Jews in 1941, with deep soberness, and Nelsons maintains the elevated tone. The rest is not quite top-level. The Symphony No. 12 is as close as Shostakovich ever came to a pro-Soviet potboiler, and Nelsons seems unexcited by it. The early Symphony No. 2 in B major, Op. 14 ("To October"), and Symphony No. 3 in E flat major, Op. 20 ("The First of May"), have a nice edge, and Nelsons keeps things under control in the massive 13-part fugue at the end of the first part of the Symphony No. 2. This is brash, youthful Shostakovich at its best and the album as a whole will satisfy followers of Nelsons' series and, in the "Babi Yar" symphony, anyone else.© James Manheim /TiVo

Two years after Honey Moon, Lana del Rey comes back with the much anticipated Lust for Life, her fourth studio album. The voice is magnetic, more sensual than ever; the melodies are solid. If through the eyes of Lana, the world stays affected, slow and pensive, the skillfully chosen featuring tracks offer a few welcome respites. Thereby, the baby doll has invited a few friends to her ball. A$ap Rocky officiates on Groupie Love and Summer Bummer—in which he brings with him Atlanta’s wild youngster, Playboi Carti—The Weeknd on Lust for Life, Jonathan Wilson on Love. Others, and not least among them, have joined the party. Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac’s emblematic singer, pops by on Beautiful People Beautiful Problems, and Sean Ono Lennon on Tomorrow Never Came. 16 tracks, 72 minutes. It’s a mix of genres ranging from hip hop with trap accents to psychedelic, without forgetting ballads on piano, and always a focus on acoustic. It’s a passionate craving for life then, which comes back to the one that has made her queen, Born to Die. It’s almost ironic. Has it gone back full circle? Anyway, this faded color melancholy is as attractive as ever, and its varnish doesn’t only crack to reveal the throes of an idol anymore, but also to tackle a modern America in disarray, between past and future. © MD/Qobuz

The piano etudes of Philip Glass were, like 19th century examples of the form, technical studies. Glass, in fact, wrote them over two decades as a way of improving his own piano skills. Yet they are also, like Chopin's etudes, little compositional studies that establish a set of parameters and explore it in a basic way. They offer the excellent means to come to grips with Glass' musical language, and they reveal the personalities of their performers more than most of his other compositions. Icelandic pianist Víkingur Ólafsson emerged to acclaim as part of a joint recital of all 20 etudes at the Barbican in London, and his work here fulfills the promise shown. After an overture from Glassworks (1981), Ólafsson launches into a sequence of 11 etudes. He doesn't follow the original order, but this is all to the good: the Glass etudes are self-contained pieces, and his progression is convincing. Ólafsson's touch is light, sweeping, dreamy, and evocative of the mystical side of the composer's personality. He catches the logic of each etude as it unfolds the implications of the very simple material with which it begins. And he makes an unusual decision: one etude, and the opening Glassworks excerpt in a return appearance as a postlude, are "reworked" by Christian Badzura with the addition of a part for string quartet. Ólafsson's own notes don't offer any justification for this, and the forces in Glass' music are less optional than in that of his contemporaries. But it's strangely compelling, and after the especially lush "Etude No. 20" -- as good a place as any to start sampling -- the addition of the string quartet to the Glassworks music seems to take the mood to a higher plane. This is a very fine Glass recording, beautifully engineered in an Icelandic hall.© James Manheim /TiVo

Jean-Philippe Rameau, Charles-Valentin Alkan, Maurice Ravel: three centuries of French music meet face-to-face to pass the baton in this record that is so admirably interpreted by the young Bruce Liu. For his first studio album Waves (Deutsche Grammophon), the Chinese pianist and winner of the 2021 Chopin Piano Competition at 24 years old, undertakes the delicate mission of constructing and presenting a vast panel of sonoric textures and approaches, unique to each composer and their time. With the valued assistance of technician Michel Brandjes, Liu has managed to erect a monument of subtlety and variations that carefully house the pieces that he interprets. As he himself explains in the liner notes: Rameau’s writing (“Gavotte et six doubles,” “Les Sauvages”) lends itself to a sound that abounds in bursts of rage and passion, contrasting with the misty impressionism of Ravel and his “Miroirs.” Somewhere between the two, “Barcarolle” and “Festin d’Esope” serve as the bridge that certain Romantics sought between baroque music and their own. Bruce Liu revels in the flexibility of his playing, which is precise and adapts to older and more recent repertoire alike. His interpretation of Ravel’s “Miroirs” is particularly admirable for its skillful use of sonoric layers and its sense of time – and, notably, of silence – and brings to mind another beautiful version - that of Pierre-Laurent Aimard, also released on Deutsche Grammophon. © Pierre Lamy/Qobuz

Recordings by Polish pianist Krystian Zimerman are a rare event, and eagerly awaited by his many fans. They surely won’t be disappointed with this new opus that brings together Szymanowski, Zimerman and legendary pianist Arthur Rubinstein.Returning to his roots, Krystian Zimerman pays tribute to his compatriot Karol Szymanowski on the 140th anniversary of the composer’s birth. This selection of little-known works testifies to the importance of Szymanowski within the piano repertoire. A long twenty-eight years separate Zimerman's recording of Masques, Op. 34 (made in 1994 in Copenhagen) from the rest of the programme, which was recorded in 2022 in the exceptional acoustics of the Fukuyama Concert Hall near Hiroshima.Nevertheless, the considerable lapse of time between these recordings doesn’t detract from the album's coherence. This is thanks to Zimerman's fluid, clear and readable sound, which—as we know—leaves nothing to chance. This fascinating recording reveals various facets of Szymanowski's compositional genius and features both his mature and early works, all of which were influenced by the great Chopin.Composed during the First World War whilst staying at the family estate in Ukraine, the three parts of Masques evoke Debussy, Scriabin and Stravinsky. However, each movement is overlaid with the orientalist perspective so typical of the Polish composer. A few carefully chosen Préludes and Mazurkas stand alongside the splendid Variations on a Polish Folk Theme for piano, Op. 10, composed by a young Szymanowski still in the process of mastering his mother tongue. © François Hudry/Qobuz

After the shock of Surfer Rosa, fans des Pixies found a tighter, less abrasive, but happily no better-behaved second album. The opening punch of Debaser, the saintly nonchalance on I Bleed, the enlightened surf pop of Monkey Gone To Heaven, the gag of La La Love You: Doolittle, released 1989 stored up all manner of gems, some troubling, others fascinating, others still surprising (everything that happens in the two mere minutes of Waves Of Mutilation is mind-bending), without ever looking like just another production of the times. This fusion of punk rock, surf music and pure pop achieves perfection here. After a record like this, we can have a better idea of where Pavement and Nirvana (Cobain named the Pixies as his favourite group) got their inspiration from...© Marc Zisman

The long-awaited new album from Daniil Trifonov is finally here! It comes fully dedicated to the music of Rachmaninoff, and, more specifically, to his three cycles of variations for piano. First of all, we have the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op. 43, a late work composed in the summer of 1934, which stands as one of Rachmaninoff’s great scores, alongside the Third Symphony, The Bells, the Liturgy of St. Chrysostom , and the Symphonic Dances. For this recording the Philadelphia Orchestra, working under the leadership of Yannick Nézet-Séguin, focus on the young Russian virtuoso with rapt attention, who then proceeds with another of the Russian composer’s great cycles, the underappreciated Variations on a Theme by Chopin , whose main theme resumes on the opening bars of the 20th Prelude of Op. 28, in C minor. Rachmaninoff designs from a highly polyphonic basis a work of rare complexity, and shape, through its harmonies. He has Chopin in mind, of course, for his lyrical side (Variations 6 and 21), but also J.S Bach (Variation 1), and Schumann – for the big Finale – whose epic touch ghosts the Symphonic Studies Op. 13. This partition, which allowed Trifonov to remove some passages, is believed by some performers to be an immense lyric poem in which notes turn literally into words (notably Jorge Bolet, and his magical phrasing, for Decca in 1986!). Others wish to unify it, like the young Trifonov himself, whose gesture is aimed primarily at a sense of fluidity. After a relatively brief, bright, tribute to Rachmaninov composed by the pianist himself, the album closes with the famous Variations on a Theme by Corelli, which is in fact the theme of "La Follia", which was used ceaselessly in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, all over Europe. © Qobuz

Each new volume of the Haydn 2032 Series, which aims to record all 107 of Haydn’s symphonies by the 300th anniversary of his birth, is eagerly awaited. And Giovanni Antonini doesn’t disappoint, with his generous and dynamic direction breathing new life into the father of symphony’s works. Volume 13 gets off to a flying start with the opening fanfare of Symphony No.31 in D major, “mit dem Hornsignal” (with horn signal), which employs four horns—a rare thing before Mozart’s Symphony No.25 eight years later and of course, Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Symphony No.59 in A major “Der Feuer” (the fire) is particularly invigorating with its joyous, almost surreal opening theme, setting the tone for the whole piece.Symphony No.48 in C major, nicknamed “Maria Theresia” (after Empress Marie-Theresa of Austria, mother of Queen Marie-Antoinette of France), was long confused with Symphony No.50, the piece that was actually written for the sovereign’s visit to Esterhazy castle where Haydn worked. The nickname, and the associated confusion, have nonetheless stuck to this day. This symphony is one of the most original and symbolic symphonies of the Sturm und Drang period—the German political and literary movement that permeated all the arts in the second half of the 18th century. All the volumes in this series also feature works which mirror Haydn’s corpus. Here, Giovanni Antonini has chosen to close the programme with Concerto for recorder, horn & continuo by Georg Philipp Telemann, which echoes the hunting symphony at the beginning. © François Hudry/Qobuz

One may well wonder why (or whether) a non-keyboard version of Bach's Goldberg Variations, BWV 988, arguably at the apex of the entire tradition of keyboard music, is at all needed. However, Baroque violinist Rachel Podger and Brecon Baroque member Chad Kelly, who "reimagined" the work (arranged is not a strong enough word), offer several justifications for their deployment of the Variations across various kinds of chamber music here. "Despite what many respected and respectful commentators have propagated," Kelly says, "it is not a sacrosanct work of pure, absolute and abstract art." Kelly seeks to use the varied settings to clarify Bach's counterpoint, to examine the musical influences that were in the air when Bach wrote the work, and to "be idiomatic to the historical instruments used in its performance and to the individual styles and genres referenced in the work." All this involves rewriting certain passages. That is a lot to ask, but generally, Kelly and Podger make it work. There are just 18 tracks, with several variations often combined into a little suite. This tends to deemphasize the tripartite structure of the variations, with a canon every third variation. Listeners can make up their own mind about that, but most will be impressed enough by the smooth Baroque winds in the slower variations, especially the crucial Adagio Variation 26, that they will be won over by this unorthodox effort. This release made classical best-seller charts in the autumn of 2023.© James Manheim /TiVo

The "Mozart, Made in Manchester" series from pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet and the Manchester Camerata under conductor Gábor Takács-Nagy has been a joy from the start. It is not that Bavouzet does anything so radical. He plays a modern piano, although there is an overall sparse approach that probably traces itself to the historical performance movement. These are just impressively sensitive performances that bring out the individuality of each work. Here, Bavouzet takes on three Mozart concertos from the early years of his life in Vienna as he broke free from the stultifying circumstances he had experienced in Salzburg. These three piano concertos are brimming over with formal experimentation that Bavouzet brings out in full; sample the tempo-shifting Rondeau finale of the Piano Concerto No. 13 in C major, K. 415. The Manchester Camerata, with some youthful musicians taken on from the city's Chetham's School, offers lively playing that conductor Takács-Nagy calibrates beautifully to Bavouzet's detailed readings. Releases in this series have included a Mozart overture, and here, one gets a vigorous, almost rollicking Overture to Die Entführung aus dem Serail, K. 384, which emphasizes the battery of Turkish percussion in the piece. This unusually satisfying Mozart recording made classical best-seller lists in early 2024.© James Manheim /TiVo

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An hour-long distillation of the eight-hour Sleep, From Sleep was designed by Max Richter to be listened to while awake (he intended the original to enhance a full night's rest and even consulted a neuroscientist about the different phases of sleep). Focusing on some of the work's most actively lovely moments, From Sleep still retains the feeling of an exquisite lullaby. These soft, gliding compositions for piano, strings, electronics and vocals encourage listeners to slow down and reflect in a hectic world, and do so with the same the same aching-yet-inspiring beauty that has graced Richter's work since The Blue Notebooks.© TiVo

To record the Golberg Variations, the absolute pinnacle of western works on harpsichord and the apotheosis of the Baroque era, is the ultimate dream for many musicians. Lang Lang, who admits to have studied the fourth section of the Clavierübung by the Cantor of Leipzig for over twenty years, is no exception. This collection offers two interpretations of the same work. Firstly, a studio version, captured beautifully at the Berlin Jesus-Christus Kirche in March 2020 under the supervision of Christopher Alder, in which Lang Lang displays more measured tempos, particularly in the the initial aria and the first variation. This approach begins to animate itself more in the next section before the first variation in G minor which is slow, sluggish-sounding and unrelenting, taking on a stubborn and repetitive saraband rhythm - a remarkable conclusion to the first section. The outburst of the French Ouverture of Variation 16 is nothing short of spectacular. The following variations pass quickly before the second variation in G minor (Var. 21, Conone alla Settima.), with its very depressive phrasing, an imaginary Tombeau which momentarily instills an impressive gravity. Lang Lang nevertheless remains indifferent to the intrinsic structure of the Goldberg Variations, organised into ten successive groups of three variations with each group finishing with an increasingly complex canon (from the Var. 3’s Canone all’Unisono to Var.27’s Canone all Nona). For the Chinese pianist, his expressive heart seems to concentrate on the three minor key variations, and he doesn’t hesitate to project a Baroque expressionism that finishes the Golbergs with a touch of pathos and romanticism alongside a rounded and silky sound.The energy of the Leipzig public, on the 5 of March 2020, adds a welcome characteristic. During the concert, recorded by Philip Krause, who also accompanied Alder during his studio recording, Lang Lang has fun with the polyphony, beginning with the Aria. Here, he dances and injects subtle variations into the accents, thus opening up a wider and more diverse field of expression (Var. 1, Var. 7). Mischievous (Variation 23 has 2 harpsichords!), Lang Lang lets his imagination run rampant and the emotion that ensues is truly striking (Var. 21, with its obsessive delays). A certain weight is lifted, even in the way the harpsichord sounds, which bears witness to how the Chinese pianist’s sound has changed over the last fifteen years. © Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz

The late Beethoven recordings of pianist Mitsuko Uchida have been career makers, and it is cause for celebration that she has capped them with the 33 Variations on a Waltz by Diabelli, Op. 120, a work that perhaps poses deeper interpretive challenges than any of the late sonatas. The Variations often show a kind of rough humor, and a performer may pick up on that, or the player may deemphasize the humor and seek out the epic qualities of the Piano Sonata No. 30 in E major, Op. 109, and Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor, Op. 111. Uchida does neither. The outlines of her usual style, high-contrast and a bit dry, are apparent, but she does not let them dominate her reading. What Uchida realizes is that the abrupt transition from humor to the deepest existential ruminations is part and parcel of Beethoven's late style, and she works to hone the particular character of each Beethoven variation. Her left hand, as usual, is strikingly powerful, and this brings out many striking details (consider the stirring variation 16). The trio of slow minor variations toward the end are given great seriousness but are not in the least overwrought; Uchida achieves an elusive Olympian tone through the final variations. There is much more to experience here, for each variation is fully thought out, but suffice it to say that this is one of the great performances of the Diabelli Variations.© TiVo