At the turn of the seventeenth century, the madrigal migrated from the seclusion of private rooms to the theatre. With this came new expectations in order to create a greater spectacle for viewers. Among them was the demand for increased dramatic expressiveness.Monteverdi's Seventh Book of Madrigals (1619) was written when the composer had settled in Venice. He finally enjoyed complete freedom directing the Cappella Marciana, the choir of St Mark's Basilica in Venice. This, combined with the artistic vivacity that runs through the City of the Doges provides a libretto that is fascinating in its polyphonic explorations and written complexity. This is a stark contrast to the Sixth Book, published five years earlier. The quest for a perfect, almost physical equivalence between the text and the music has led to instrumentation that serves as an ideal setting for the vocals.Always at the top of their game, Rinaldo Alessandrini and the Concerto Italiano beautifully perform this music sparkling with purity and beauty. Soprano Monica Piccinini’s ethereal tone particularly stands out. Her voice is truly indispensable to the ensemble's productions. © Pierre Lamy/Qobuz

With “Lagrime d’amante”, La Compagnia del Madrigale, so accomplished with 16th- and 17th century Italian music and words, turns its attention afresh to the music of Claudio Monteverdi. This new Glossa release, recorded in Cumiana, outside Turin, faithfully conveys the beauty of the ensemble’s vocal blend in a selection of five-part compositions drawn from the Monteverdi of Cremona, Mantua and Venice, but centring on that cornerstone of his art, the Sixth Book. The act of singing whilst weeping – as Marco Bizzarini points out in his booklet essay – is somewhat unfeasible, but time after time Monteverdi strove to overcome that improbability by his music, often calling upon the best Italian poetry of the time: here, the fabulously vivid imagery of Torquato Tasso, Battista Guarini and Petrarch are well served by Monteverdi’s musical response. The programme takes us through various troubled emotional states involving love: a lover dying of love, the “partenza amorosa” (or lovers’ separation), even a shepherd accidentally wounding his loved one, but also the outpouring of grief in the Lagrime d’amante al sepolcro dell’amata, a commissioned madrigal cycle to newly written words lamenting the death in 1608 of the promising singer Caterina Martinelli, a pupil of the composer, but also that of Monteverdi’s wife. This work and others on this recording involved the lamented bass Daniele Carnovich to whom the group pay tribute; the sessions were completed by Matteo Bellotto. © Glossa

Download not available

Festival productions can be hit or miss, depending on how much time the musicians have rehearsed together, and on the chemistry between them. This CD is an absolute hit, recorded at the 20th Rossini in Wildbad Festival. The singers beautifully embody their characters, while the orchestra (Virtuosi Brunensis with Alberto Zedda) is spirited and the Transylvania State Philharmonic Choir richly supportive. The energetic overture draws the listener into the opera's world, with the requisite full orchestra crescendo one expects of Rossini; the only difficulty is that the lower voices of the orchestra are not loud enough (the orchestra may be a bit sparse). This musically spot-on introduction sets the tone for the rest of the album. All the singers have a strong sense of musicality and very clear diction (not surprising, given that many of them are singing in their native Italian): this is especially important in recitatives and in rapid-fire, chaotic, often comedic ensemble numbers that are a hallmark of Rossini. The opera is interpreted so well that the listener can easily follow along even without a libretto. Especially noteworthy are the tenor Lawrence Brownlee, who plays Lindoro, and Lorenzo Regazzo who plays the imperious Mustapha. Brownlee's tenor is very expressive with a fast vibrato, dramatic and heartfelt, even if on occasion all the notes in his melismas are not perfectly defined. Regazzo's charismatic performance recalls an earlier opera star, Tom Krause, and his character's mission and pompousness are comically conveyed. This is not to say that the other singers are any less worthy on this album, for Bruno de Simone's bass is as clear and agile as a tenor's, Marianna Pizzolato's contralto is passionate while always maintaining strong vocal control, and Giulio Mastrototaro's solo is quite enjoyable. Perhaps the only major criticism one could make of this album is that Elvira's timbre does not match the others, as it is very bright (but this is in no way a criticism of the quality of her singing). Fans of The Marriage of Figaro will most certainly like this album, as the opera deals with common themes of infidelity, separated lovers, and trickery. In sum, each element here works, from the harpsichord accompaniment to the singers to the score to the orchestra. Highly recommended and highly entertaining. © TiVo

This is a Barbiere "di qualità, di qualità": in fact, of very great quality indeed, from Deutsche Grammophon. Recorded in London in the summer of 1971, it is one of the first meetings of Claudio Abbado and the London Symphony Orchestra. It is also the first of Alberto Zedda's philological editions of Rossini's works, whose scores have been covered over by inherited errors for over a century. Getting rid of the additions which have, quite wrongly, become traditional, means restoring certain interruptions and the fine instrumentation of the period; and above all, singing and playing without exaggerations, thanks to an innate sense for the theatre. It's a spot of spring cleaning which has restored the youth of the 24-year-old composer's masterpiece. Bravo, signor barbiere, ma bravo! It is a dream record, with singers who are well-versed in the repertoire. Everyone is right where they need to be, from Teresa Berganza's wiley and cheeky Rosina, to the refined and hard-working Figaro played by Hermann Prey, via Luigi Alva's frivolous Count and the utterly ridiculous Basilio played by the outrageous Paolo Montarsolo. We're amused by their antics, as we admire the well-oiled and unstoppable machine of Rossini's theatre, under the unceasingly inventive and thrilling baton of Claudio Abbado. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Nashville is rough on the living, but she really speaks well of the dead, says a country song, and opera is the same way. Recordings by the late Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky have soared on the charts since his untimely death. Along with the superb song album Russia Cast Adrift, this one makes a suitable memorial. Hvorostovsky was never a typical Italian opera baritone, and that was what made his performances of Rigoletto over the years so well loved; they stood apart from the crowd. This version was made in Kaunas, Lithuania (in the Philharmonic Hall -- it is not a live recording), in 2016, after the baritone's diagnosis with brain cancer. Cognoscenti may grouse that at certain junctures Hvorostovsky's voice has less power than formerly (which, at his age, would have been true even without his illness), but the essential qualities that made him a great Rigoletto are on full display here. Where Western baritones sing, Hvorostovsky growls, rasps, and snarls, and the role of the exquisitely bitter jester has rarely come alive as it does here. The rest of the cast is decidedly not as strong; soprano Nadine Sierra can't decide whether Gilda should be a wounded innocent or something more substantial, and her pitches are often less than stable. Yet this is how it should be. With a star of Hvorostovsky's magnitude, the focus should be on the star, and that is where it resides. Clean accompaniment by the Kaunas City Symphony Orchestra that effectively stays out of his way is another plus. An essential for Hvorostovsky lovers. © TiVo

This new recording in the Edition Vivaldi series – the first of two volumes dedicated to Vivaldi’s "cantate da camera" for soprano – displays the energetic vitality with which a new generation of artists in their thirties is encountering the baroque repertoire. This sixty-eighth album of the Edition highlights the expressively powerful voice of the soloist, soprano Arianna Vendittelli, already heard in the operas Il Tamerlano (2020) and Il Giustino (2018) conducted by Ottavio Dantone, as well as the artistic vision and high standards of the harpsichordist, organist and conductor Andrea Buccarella, who in 2018 carried off the first prize at the Bruges International Early Music Competition with his Abchordis Ensemble. In these six cantatas – of around thirty attributed to the Venetian master and composed between 1718 and the mid 1730s – these artists display their enhanced vocal and instrumental artistry, and a profound understanding of Vivaldi’s scores. No subtlety escapes these artists in their interpretation of this secular vocal genre, so fashionable during the 18th century, and still being rediscovered today, with its alternating arias and recitatives.

After dedicating many years of his life to the highly-revered music of Claudio Monteverdi, Philippe Herreweghe now offers us his version of the Fourth Book of Madrigals—one of the most innovative and representative works by this genius Italian composer. Sprinkled with audacious harmonics and intense expressiveness that closely mimics the mannerisms of painters and sculptors of the time, this volume clearly announces the culmination of the “seconda pratica” (a new modern way of thinking about music that marked the beginning of the Baroque period).Monteverdi devoted many years to the creation of this Fourth Book which brings the 16th century to a close with great originality of form and a wide variety of styles (a real testament to the spectacular musical evolution that took place over such a small time frame). The use of dissonance is evident from the very first madrigal, Ah dolent partita, with the use of minor seconds plunging the listener into the bottomless abyss of amorous distress.A great lover of Italy and its art, Philippe Herreweghe and the excellent singers of the Collegium Vocale Gent give real vitality to these madrigals. They subtly shape the contrasts, achieving a striking chiaroscuro that emphasises the exaggerated asceticism contained within these 20 sublime pieces. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Five years after her solo debut recording, Direct Message, which programmed 20th and 21st century works for trumpet and piano, trumpet player Matilda Lloyd departs the traditional repertoire (aside from the two Arban arrangements from the Complete Conservatory Method for Trumpet). Instead of following more well-worn routes, Lloyd elects to present a program of Romantic period opera arias, mostly in arrangements for trumpet and chamber orchestra (undertaken here by the Britten Sinfonia under Rumon Gamba) by William Foster, who worked closely with Lloyd on this project. Lloyd's skill as a musician is evident throughout, though the two Arban tracks most clearly allow her abilities to shine. The arrangements throughout are good, though how much they add to the performances rather than transcriptions and transpositions is up for debate. Lloyd notes with excitement the decision to include two pieces by Pauline Viardot, and one of the highlights here is the treatment of Viardot's Havanaise. This is certainly a trumpet release aimed at a wider audience than trumpet and brass circles, and it has already found success on the retail market. Chandos delivers just the right atmosphere from the Church of St. Augustine, Kilburn, in London. The future is bright for this trumpeter, and one looks forward to where her path may take her. © Keith Finke /TiVo