The Polish diva Aleksandra Kurzak, tenor Roberto Alagna’s muse, has published an album testifying to the breadth of her voice, allowing her to take on heavier and more dramatic roles vocally, such as Tosca, Adriana Lecouvreur and the great Verdian tragedians Leonora from Il Trovatore or Elvira from Ernani. In fact, it was while singing Verdi that the soprano made her highly acclaimed debuts at the Metropolitan Opera in New York in Violetta (La Traviata) and at the Opéra Bastille in Paris as a fiery Elisabetta (Don Carlo). With her splendid timbre, Aleksandra Kurzak's voice has fleshed out. She launches her highs triumphantly, giving a lot of character to the dozen arias chosen from operas in Italian (Verdi, Puccini, Cilea, Leoncavallo) and French (the "Air des contrebandiers" from the opera Carmen), as well as taking incursions into the Czech language with the sublime "Song to the Moon" from Rusalka, composed by Antonín Dvořák a few months after the creation of Tosca and which Puccini would probably not have eschewed. Perfectly polyglot, Aleksandra Kurzak sings in Polish (an aria from Moniuszko's Halka) and in Russian (the famous "Letter Scene" from the first act of this perfect masterpiece that is Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin, based on Pushkin's novel in verse). So many amorous desires of heroines who are always disappointed, betrayed and even sacrificed by men. © François Hudry/Qobuz

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

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

The impression of the ink still being wet on the page is not an unfamiliar one when listening to Fabio Biondi and Europa Galante, such is the freshness and elan they inject into everything they turn their musical attentions to. However in the case of their Vivaldi Edition Argippo the ink pretty much was still wet as they recorded it, because this is Bernardo Ticci's 2019 reconstruction of what is in fact a lost Vivaldi pasticcio (a cutting and pasting together of music from other operas), created in 1730 for the Venetian impresario Antonio Peruzzi to stage in Vienna and Prague. The reconstruction has been possible because the librettos from those two productions remain, plus a set of arias, and also the full score of a complete three-act, untitled and anonymous opera featuring arias from up to twelve other composers – and both the arias and the score appear to be derived, albeit with many changes, from the Prague libretto. The result is a reconstruction which on the one hand is decidedly scant on actual music by Vivaldi, given that even those arias believed to be from his pen can't be confirmed as such, and they appear alongside arias by Galeazzi, Pescetti, Hasse, Porpora, (possibly) Fiorè and Vinci. However, it's also a stylistically diverse and thus thoroughly entertaining offering that bears all the hallmarks of a Vivaldi pasticcio, and is undoubtedly in the spirit of one. Argippo's action takes place in the Bengali Kingdom – a tapping into the contemporary Venetian enthusiasm for tales of the East, although that influence didn't bleed into the musical style itself. A classic Baroque opera plot centred around lies and mistaken identities – King Argippo of Chittagong and his wife Osira almost lose their lives while visiting the court of the Gran Mogol Tisifaro, because the Tisifaro's cousin Silvero seduces his daughter Zanaida while disguised as Argippo – it's high on drama and strife before eventually reaching its happy conclusion. So, add the multi-composer score, and Biondi's five-strong cast have plenty to get their teeth into. Highlights include the opera's first fizzing showstopper, “Se lento ancora”, contralto Delphine Galou as the Gran Mogol Tisifaro's daughter Zanaida making light work of her leaping figures and embellishments as she anguishes over being betrayed by her lover. Also the soft and fruity-toned fluidity to the vocal acrobatics of ‘Un certo non so che’, sung by soprano Marie Lys as a fearful Osira. Equally fine voiced are soprano Emőke Baráth in the title role, contralto Marianna Pizzolato as Silvero, and bass Luigi de Donato as Tisifaro. Europa Galante themselves bring it all together with their characteristic blend of warmth, fizz and dramatic flair, having launched things with a cracker of an opening Sinfonia. In short, great fun. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz

There's no shortage of Handel aria recitals these days, especially in Britain, but this one by bass baritone Christopher Purves stands out from the crowd in several respects. First of all, it is rare in collecting arias for bass voice, which was, in Handel's time as it was later on, generally associated with a few fixed and generally negative character types (tyrants, rogues, repressive patriarchs). Second, it's a very pleasantly varied collection of tunes, including displays of brilliant passagework, out-of-the-norm writing in service of characterization (Fra l'ombre e gl'orrori, from Aci, Galatea e Polifemo, track 4), and high climactic drama (the big, three-part Revenge, Timotheus cries, from Alexander's Feast, track 19, is a familiar example). Finally, Purves unearths some rarely heard pieces and programs them intelligently. When did anyone last year anything from Muzio Scevola, or Riccardo Primo, rè d'Inghilterra, which must have pleased London audiences in 1727 despite its Italian-language text. Purves does not have the biggest voice in the bass baritone universe, and there could be a bit more sound in the very low notes. But the dimensions of the music are right for the period. He's pleasingly accurate in the passagework, and he's a real actor who makes these potentially stilted characters come alive. Listeners will want to hear Purves in a small production of one of these operas after hearing this album, preferably accompanied by the strong historical-instrument group Arcangelo under Jonathan Cohen, as he is here.© TiVo

The countertenor Tim Mead leads an all-star cast in the Early Opera Company’s recording of Handel’s Amadigi di Gaula, conducted by Christian Curnyn. The opera was first performed, in London, in 1715, in the first season under the reign of George I, at the King’s Theatre on the Haymarket. The complex, twisting plot features the lovers Amadigi and Oriana, imprisoned by the sorceress Melissa (who seeks Amadigi’s love). His ally Dardano turns against Amadigi, his former friend, when he realises that they both love Oriana and he sides with Melissa. Her plans are repeatedly foiled, and true love triumphs at the final curtain! Amadigi is considered the finest of Handel’s early London operas in terms of musical sophistication, theatrical pacing, and a perfectly balanced exploration of the interconnected relationships, motivations, and emotional divergences among just four dissimilar yet equally arresting characters. © Chandos

Handel's Rodelinda, regina de' Longobardi, HWV 19, was a hit at its first performance in 1725 and has dropped out of the repertory only during periods when all of Handel's operas did. It is absolutely loaded with great Handelian tunes and also has a more-than-coherent plot involving an imprisoned queen in a conquered Milan, the intrigue that swirls around her among her lustful conquerors, and her disguised husband, Bertarido, who attempts to rescue her. The lead role has drawn star sopranos from Joan Sutherland on down, but many listeners will be drawn to the singing here of Lucy Crowe, who really inhabits the role. She sang it with the Dutch National Opera, and here, she returns with convincing delivery that will keep listeners' heads out of the libretto. She is aided by the clean playing of the English Concert under Harry Bicket, who leads from the harpsichord, and a strong supporting cast, including the ideal Iestyn Davies as Bertarido. This performance was planned for the English Concert's annual live concert at Carnegie Hall in New York; that was canceled due to the 2020 coronavirus pandemic, but Bicket and the group decided to record the opera instead, inaugurating a new series of Handel operas. The socially distanced playing and singing at St. John's Smith Square is a little rusty in spots, and the venue is somewhat airy for the music, but all in all, this is a Handel opera performance that makes one anxious for more of the same for the performers.© TiVo