This double-album release from the specialist Palazzetto Bru Zane label, better known for opera but doing fine here with orchestral music, landed on classical best-seller charts in the autumn of 2023, and this is really no wonder. The album puts together many attractive features, beginning with fine work from the beefy (34 violins) Orchestre National de Lyon under conductor Nikolaj Szeps-Znaider. The album comprises a little history of the French tone poem from the third quarter of the 19th century to the second decade of the 20th, and it includes many works that will be unfamiliar to all but specialists, along with a few hits (Saint-Saëns' Danse macabre, Op. 40, Paul Dukas' L'apprenti sorcier ["The Sorcerer's Apprentice"] in a brisk, colorful performance, Emmanuel Chabrier's España, and perhaps Franck's Le chasseur maudit). As for the rest, there are no fewer than four works by women composers: Lili Boulanger, Augusta Holmès, Mel Bonis, and Charlotte Sohy; the Danse mystique of the latter is perhaps both the most obscure and the most compelling. Several works by better-known male composers also seem well worth removal from the historical scrap heap; sample Ernest Chausson's hushed Viviane, Op. 5, or Vincent d'Indy's Istar, Op. 42, the tone poem Wagner never wrote. Or the title work by Henri Duparc, much more familiar as a song composer. More generally, one is impressed by the cohesion of the program as a whole, even as French styles underwent fundamental change. Most of the composers try to show a mastery of the large orchestra and of the big tune as second subject. This is a highly listenable group of pieces that hearers will be glad to know better.© James Manheim /TiVo

A serpent woman haunts Cecile McLorin Salvant's dreams on her boldly realized seventh album, 2023's Mélusine. Inspired by the European folktale most famously detailed by 14th century French writer Jean d'Arras, Mélusine tells the tale of a shapeshifting maiden, half-serpent/half-woman, whose righteous anger takes on ever-more dualistic meanings under Salvant's dynamic musical sway. Having been lavished with accolades, including several Grammy Awards for her clarion, swinging jazz and French chanson-infused albums, Salvant has increasingly leaned into the more stylistically experimental and personal aspects of her artistry. It was an approach she took to new levels with 2022's Ghost Song, performing her poetic originals alongside unexpected covers of songs by Kate Bush and Sting. Centered on the title track, which she composed during the Ghost Song sessions, Mélusine is a gorgeously realized production. Although there are some English lyrics here, the album features the most French Salvant has sung on record. Thankfully, she offers translations of each song with a sentence that also highlights how each track illuminates the story.The album also finds Salvant (who produced the album with Tom Korkidis) pulling together all of her disparate influences, from her moody cabaret jazz reading of Charles Trenet's "La Route Enchantee" to her playfully mischievous interpretation of the 14th century composition "Dites Moi Que Je Suis Belle," the latter of which is done in dancerly duet with djembe percussion master Weedie Braimah. Along with Braimah, she's joined throughout by several longtime associates including pianists Sullivan Fortner and Aaron Diehl, bassists Paul Sikivie and Luques Curtis, drummers Kyle Pool and Obed Calvaire, and saxophonist Godwin Louis. Shifting the line-up track to track, Salvant offers inspired forays into '70s sci-fi-inspired Canadian musical theater ("Petite Musique Terrienne" from Starmania), the dramatic French pop of Veronique Sanson ("Le Temps est Assassin"), and an Afro-Latin take on 12th century troubadour Almuc Castelnau's "Dame Iseut" that Salvant sings in both Occitan and Haitian Creole, languages that underline her own rich dual heritage. There's even a synthesizer-accented take on Michel Lambert's haunting 1660 air de coeur "D'un Feu Secret" that sounds like electronic composer Suzanne Ciani, Ella Fitzgerald, and the Modern Jazz Quartet giving a Baroque court performance. Her originals here are just as stylistically wide-ranging as she pulls together jazz and Haitian compas rhythms on "Doudou," accompanies herself on analog synth on "Wedo," and weaves a dreamy overlay of vocals and electric piano on "Aida." It almost goes without saying that Salvant's voice is utterly sublime on Mélusine, rich with an earthy jazz warmth on one song and shimmering with a brightly attenuated operatic resonance on another. There's also a feeling that for her, the story of a half-serpent half-woman is in keeping with her life as a Black woman raised in Miami by a Haitian father and French mother. Whether it's with the themes of romantic heartbreak and bodily autonomy, or the global boundary-pushing musicality at play on Mélusine, Salvant's work is transcendent.© Matt Collar /TiVo

This 2023 release inaugurates an ongoing series from baritone Samuel Hasselhorn and pianist Ammiel Bushakevitz, performing Schubert works two centuries on from their date of composition, and slated to culminate in 2028, the bicentennial of the composer's death. The project begins with one of the most famous Schubert song cycles of all, Die schöne Müllerin, D. 795, depicting the crackup and despair of a young wanderer who falls in love with a beautiful miller's daughter. Hasselhorn has plenty of recent competition in this cycle; listeners can sample the 2017 recording by Christian Gerhaher and Gerold Huber for another approach, but this one promises well for the ongoing project. Die schöne Müllerin is a work in which Schubert took vast strides toward the emancipation of the piano in the lied, and Bushakevitz leans into this aspect, with details that illuminate and often foreshadow themes developing in the text. Hasselhorn has a warm baritone with an appealing conversational tone that turns chilly and quiet toward the cycle's downer conclusion. Another draw is Harmonia Mundi's sound from the b-sharp studio in Berlin; the engineers put Bushakevitz just a bit forward in the mix, not so much as to sap energy from Hasselhorn's singing, but enough to highlight his perceptive performance. This release bodes well indeed for the duo's future work.© James Manheim /TiVo

It is hard to figure out what pianist Emmanuel Despax had in mind for the concept of this album. Its various titles offer three ideas: Après un rêve comes from the title of a Fauré song Despax transcribes for his program opener, plus there is "Belle Époque: Nights at the Piano." None of these is of much use; few pieces other than the Fauré are particularly dreamy, and the largest piece, Poulenc's Soirées de Nazelles, is from the nervous 1930s and nowhere near the Belle Époque in time or mood. As for "Nights at the Piano," that fits the Poulenc nicely but not the concluding Gaspard de la Nuit of Ravel, which is an imposing virtuoso concert work carrying none of the connotations of "Nights at the Piano." Really, Despax excels in none of these three ways but rather in a fourth: he hits on an intriguing mix of familiar standards and unusual works. Among the latter group are the Soirées de Nazelles, which Poulenc disclaimed and, perhaps for that reason, have been seldom heard. They are delightful pieces that bear titles describing qualities, like the numbers of a Baroque French suite, but actually seem to have been devised by Poulenc to describe members of a group of his friends, like Elgar's Enigma Variations. The result is a work that distills the hint of improvisation that pervades some of Poulenc's keyboard music and songs, and Despax gives it the right lively, spontaneous feel. The Nocturne, Op. 165, of Cécile Chaminade and the keyboard version of Henri Duparc's Aux étoiles are also nice finds. As for the more heavily trodden works, Debussy's Clair de lune is pleasantly moody, although no one would select this album for the rote Gaspard de la Nuit or the rather un-macabre Danse Macabre, Op. 40, of Saint-Saëns. For Poulenc lovers, however, this is an important find. © James Manheim /TiVo

Casual buyers and browsers should note that the vocal works on this album, accompanied by orchestra, are not the original works of Debussy. They were made in 2012 by composer Robin Holloway at the request of the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. They were performed at that time by Renée Fleming but have not been recorded until now. The settings are unorthodox and never boring, and they will probably strike different listeners in different ways. Holloway reorders the songs, believing that they were not intended as a sequenced set (probably debatable), inserts some of the composer's Verlaine settings in the new ordering, adds transitions between most of them, and tacks on a high-powered epilogue of his own. The end result, perhaps, is Debussy for the 21st century, amped up and intense, with hidden psychological themes and ideas wrung out and brought to the fore by the orchestration. There will be little disagreement, however, about two of the main attractions: soprano Vannina Santoni is a talented newcomer from whom one wants to hear more, and Mikko Franck, heard at the end in La Mer, is an excellent Debussy conductor; his rendition of this well-trodden work is full of detail and entirely absorbing. Santoni has a big voice that stands up to these orchestrations, and Alpha's sound from the Radio France auditorium keeps everything in balance. Nothing if not an intriguing Debussy release. © James Manheim /TiVo

The idea is interesting on the face of it: the Duke of Ferrara, at his court in the late 16th century, maintained a "concerto segreto," secret concerts of three singers who also accompanied themselves on instruments. The three singers of La Néréide have performed a program based on this repertory, reproducing the original circumstances as far as possible. It is perhaps a trifle less effective on a recording, where they employ other instrumentalists for accompaniment, but this almost unknown repertory holds plenty of interest in itself. The music on the album is mostly by the melodiously named Luzzasco Luzzaschi, the Duke's court composer, with other works by his contemporary Luca Marenzio and the slightly later Claudio Monteverdi and Francesca Caccini (who makes the cut because her opera La liberazione di Ruggiero dall'isola di Alcina, the first opera by a woman, contains an excerpt calls "Le tre sirene"). This was progressive music for the time, including some of the sharp dissonances better known in the writing of Carlo Gesualdo and also the emerging texture in which melody was accompanied by a continuo. Thus, La Néréide captures the swirl of influences out of which early opera emerged, framing them in a vivid scene that will be unfamiliar, like the music in general, to most listeners. The three women have a strong sense of ensemble, and the engineering from the small Notre-Dame-des-Centeilles chapel suggests the music's original surroundings. A really interesting release for those fascinated by the late Renaissance. © James Manheim /TiVo

Recording Ravel's music on period instruments is the kind of thing that might raise a smile... until you realise just how much the production of instruments has changed in less than a hundred years: it's the return of catgut strings, skin drum heads, the French basson (and not the German system bassoon which is used across all the world's orchestras today), shaper tips, trumpets and trombones of French manufacture. At the head of his orchestra Les Siècles, François-Xavier Roth gives a new, orthodox, historically-informed version of Ma Mère l’oye (complete ballet), the Tombeau de Couperin and Shéhérazade, the long-neglected "ouverture de féérie" [Fairy Overture] which is pure Ravel. This return to the roots is clearly easier and more straightforwardly authentic for this period of music history, because, unlike earlier works, we possess recordings which date back to the 1920s, and even earlier, which can tell us about the style, the colours, the phrasing and the tempo. But it isn't enough just to have all this historical information to hand to make something interesting. What makes this record thrilling is that all the musicians in the Siècles are excellent, and François-Xavier Roth is a talented artist himself, who knows this music inside out. At which point, his complete recording of Stravinsky's Firebird has already struck us with its quality. This rediscovery of Ravel resounds with clarity and finesse; it is a feast of well-defined timbres which cuts against the "beautiful sound" which prevails in orchestras around the world today. © François Hudry/Qobuz

After four previous albums that to varying degrees meld his idol Django Reinhardt's gypsy jazz with French chanson in originals and specially chosen covers, guitarist and vocalist Thomas Dutronc realizes a dream with Frenchy. Accompanied by his quartet and an international cast of guests including Iggy Pop, Diana Krall, Stacey Kent, Youn Sun Nah, Haley Reinhart, Jeff Goldblum, and Billy Gibbons, he pays homage to the timelessness of French song with a mostly wonderful result. Iggy and Krall assist on Hernri Bette's and Andre Hornez's "C'est si Bon," immortalized by Yves Montand. While this version doesn’t add much, it's delivered bilingually, thus embracing Jerry Seelen's English lyrics. Edit Piaf's theme, "La Vie en Rose," finds Gibbons adding a silvery touch to an uncharacteristically languid guitar solo. The particular quality in the grain of Dutronc's voice and phrasing bridge Piaf's clipped enunciation with Chet Baker's vulnerable delivery style. "Plus Je T'embrasse," penned by American composer Ben Ryan, was rendered iconic by Blossom Dearie in 1958. Dutronc reads it with fingerpopping hipster sass. American soprano saxophonist, jazz giant Sidney Bechet (beloved in France since 1922) scored a hit there with "Petit Fleur." Its Latin percussion and lonely musette frame Dutronc's vocal and guitar exquisitely. He also reimagines chart hits by two French groups who composed their lyrics in English: A sultry, almost erotic read of Air's "Playground Love" with South Korea's Nah, and an all but unrecognizable version of Daft Punk's international smash "Get Lucky." While Dutronc's vocal on the latter is unsuitable for its melody, his hip take on gypsy-cool jazz adds dimension and savvy. There's another fine duet here between the guitarist and Stacey Kent on a resonant, sensual take of Pierre Barouh's title theme for the film "Un Homme et Une Femme." Frenchy couldn’t exist without a tune by Reinhardt (the French press has dubbed Dutronc "Django's Son"), a modern version of "Minor Swing" that replaces Stephane Grappelli's violin with a Rhodes piano, popping electric guitars, and hyper-strummed mandolin. Alongside Haley Reinhart, Dutronc offers a resilient, rockist read of Jacques Brel's eternal "If You Go Away" adds to a lineage started by Georges Brassens and Leo Ferre. A truly confusing entry here is the inclusion of "My Way." Set to the music of the French song "Comme d'habitude," composed and written by Jacques Revaux, Frank Sinatra's signature version (with unrelated English lyrics by Paul Anka), is the standard no matter who sings it. Dutronc's attempt to straddle cultural lines is valiant, but so wispy it should have been abandoned. Further, on Sacha Distel's and Jean Broussolle's "La Belle Vie" (Yankees know it as Tony Bennet's "The Good Life"), is temporarily elevated by Goldblum's deft pianism, but his uneven, ever so slight singing voice, when paired with the guitarist's expressive baritone, proves detrimental. Dutronc planned and recorded Frenchy with great care and more than a little skill. Fans will find much to delight in. However, attraction for non-Francophone audiences may prove -- despite the album's high quality -- somewhat limited.© Thom Jurek /TiVo

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Released nine years after their split, Flammes is a greatest-hits package from the electronic pop duo described as France's answer to the Eurythmics, Niagara. The 2002 18-track collection features material from their four studio albums, including 1985 debut single "Tchiki Boum," European hits "Pendant Que Les Champs Brulent" and "J'ai Vu," and their swan song, "Le Minotaure."© Jon O'Brien /TiVo

The composer Egidio Duni is all but unknown nowadays, but he worked amidst several important currents of 18th century musical life. A Neapolitan who wrote Italian operas, he was backed by a noble patron who apparently gave him the means to move to Paris. Duni composed French operas of various types, and Denis Diderot cited him as a counterexample to Rousseau's contention that the French language was unsuited to opera. Duni would be worth hearing for his influence alone; the two short comic works recorded here were important early examples of opéra-comique, but they are also charming in their own right. In Paris, they were known not as operas but as "comédies melées d'ariettes," or comedies mixed with ariettas. Much of the dialogue is spoken, and some of that is unaccompanied, while other pieces have a light continuo-like backing. (This aspect of the notation has not survived, but the decisions made by the performers here are unobjectionable.) The texts hold up even today as pretty funny. Le peintre amoureux de son modèle ("The Painter in Love with His Model," she chooses someone her own age at the end) and Les deux chasseurs et la laitière ("The Two Hunters and the Milkmaid") have crackling sitcom dialogue. Physical album buyers will get a booklet with complete texts. The singers are not spectacular (four in one opera, three in the other), but then, they shouldn't be; what is important is that they put the text across, don't overact, and engage with the comedy. The small Orkester Nord is the right size at 23 players, and conductor Martin Wåhlberg keeps things moving along. This is a delightful release of much more than historical interest. If scores are available, collegiate groups could easily mount productions of these works.© James Manheim /TiVo