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

Jean-Baptiste Lully's Cadmus & Hermione of 1673 was arguably the first true French opera, telling a tragic story (Lully and his librettist Philippe Quinault called it a tragédie en lyrique), employing Italian-style recitatives, and collecting the varied music and dance forms of Louis XIV's opulent court into a coherent narrative that at once celebrated Louis (he is conflated with Cadmus of Thebes) and moved beyond the ceremonial nature of earlier French dramatic music. It's a sprawling work, with five acts, an overture, and a sizable Prologue with its own overture; highlights include a dragon that eats Africans, a monster snake, and a full complement of Greek gods and goddesses. Realization of the work has, until now, been beyond the means of early music performance groups, and this is the world premiere recording of the opera, made in 2019 and based on a 2008 performance at Versailles Palace by some of the same performers. The leader is Vincent Dumestre, conducting the Le Poème Harmonique orchestra and the vocal ensembles Aedes. The forces are large enough to capture the splendor of the music (thankfully, no one-voice-per-part techniques here), and Dumestre is alert to the huge variety of musical devices Lully brings to bear on his story; there are dances, big choruses, bagpipes, and much more. Cadmus & Hermione may be a difficult work to bring to life for modern audiences, but Dumestre keeps things moving along and probably comes as close as anyone could. Of course, anyone interested in the life of the French court in the 17th century will find this an essential acquisition that will keep giving and giving. © TiVo

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

J. Cole can come across as a man with something to prove. The Off-Season opens up with the hysteria-inducing blowout piece 95.south, followed by amari, which is strongly influenced by the Chicago sound. These choices seem to show us a J. Cole who is trying to contradict his image as a nice rapper, but for all that, hardness isn't necessarily his strong suit. J. Cole's real strength, as this sixth album shows, is that balance between modern sounds, boom bap samples and vocal melodies that he has been putting out throughout his career, in which smart songwriting trumps pure attitude. Tracks like close or the.climb.back demonstrate this perfectly. Although sometimes a bit hampered by the artist's affected seriousness, this album is nevertheless one of his best releases in five years. Listen to one of its singles, my.life featuring 21 Savage and Morray, and you'll be convinced. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

The general revival of music by women has not done much for Elizabeth Poston (1905-1987), even though she was quite a familiar figure in her own time. She wrote two carols, The Boar's Head Carol and Jesus Christ the Apple Tree, that remain in common use, was a broadcaster on the BBC for some years, and edited several music collections for Penguin publishing that are still in print. This collection of sacred music from two choirs of St. Albans Cathedral and conductor Tom Winpenny adds a substantial chunk to the relative handful of Poston compositions that have been available up to now, and the album made classical best-seller lists in the autumn of 2023. Both of Poston's familiar carols are included, and those not familiar with Jesus Christ the Apple Tree would do well to sample it here; it has a truly mysterious simplicity. All of the music might be described as artfully simple; even the main attraction, the mini Christmas oratorio The Nativity, has an attractive minimal quality, with texts gathered from folk carols. The second half of the program is largely given over to little carols for children sung by the St. Albans Cathedral Girls Choir; there may be smoother choirs in the English cathedral sphere, but few would get into the spirit of The Dormouse's Carol as these young singers do. Essential for collections of music by women, this would also make a good offbeat holiday gift for 2023 and beyond.© James Manheim /TiVo

Beware the pen of a critic. When in 1720 an arrangement of Domenico Scarlatti’s 1714 opera Amor d’un’Ombra e Gelosia d’un’aura arrived at the King’s Theatre, Haymarket, Charles Burney’s pen was gently damning. “Though there were many new pleasing passages and effects”, proclaimed London’s esteemed writer on all things musical, “those acquainted with the original and happy freaks of this composer in his harpsichord music, would be surprised at the sobriety and almost dullness of the songs”; and over the ensuing centuries, critical opinion has largely persisted with the line that Scarlatti’s best work is to be found not among his vocal or instrumental works, but instead among the 555 harpsichord sonatas he wrote for the Portuguese Queen of Spain, María Bárbara. Now though, here is a multi-genre Scarlatti programme from Bertrand Cuiller and his period instrument ensemble Le Caravansérail, its aim to enable the listener to reach his or her own conclusion as to Scarlatti’s wider worth. Although with repertoire and performances as fine as these, it’s perfectly clear which side Cuiller wants us to come down upon. Not least he opens with a piece of shameless wooing: the famous Sonata in G major, K. 144, but heard not on harpsichord but instead from harpist from Bérengère Sardin in a performance of melting warm fragility and hope-filled nobility. Then with that still ringing in your ears comes one of the few surviving examples of Scarlatti’s sacred music, the Stabat Mater in C minor with its rich, ten-voice texture supported by basso continuo accompaniment alone; and instantly your ears are locking on to that continuo section’s harp-reminiscent archlute, and thus becoming extra-alive to the accompaniment’s poeticism, even as the clear-toned voices unfurl over it and entwine around each other, themselves bringing definition and lucidity to even the score’s most lavishly contrapuntal vocal writing. Onwards and there’s a D minor instrumental feast: violinist Leila Schayegh’s sombre, expressive reading of the Sonata, K. 90, one of a few harpsichord sonatas that appears to present the option of choosing a solo instrument on the melodic line; then, following a nimbly urgent ensemble reading of Charles Avison’s “concerto grosso” transcription of another harpsichord sonata, Cuiller himself bringing gossamer-weight lyricism to Harpsichord Sonata, K. 213. As for the secular vocal works, the numbers from Amor d’un’Ombra e Gelosia d’un’aura more than hold their own here, thanks to soprano Emmanuelle de Negri and countertenor Paul-Antoine Bénos-Djian’s committed performances, while an album highlight is the lilting melancholic expression brought by de Negri to ”Pur nel sonno almen tal’ora vien colei” from the Cantata “Pur nel sonno almen” – composed to a Metastasio poem that appears to have been given to Scarlatti by star countertenor Farinelli, and thus inevitably sounding like a composer inspired to give his best. In short, in the case of Cuiller versus Burney, it’s a win for Cuiller. Also, indeed, for Scarlatti. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz

For his last season at the helm of the Opéra de Bordeaux, Marc Minkowski—always keen to conduct forgotten works which have, in some way, marked the history of music—sets his sights on Robert le Diable, Giacomo Meyerbeer's opera which was a true social phenomenon in 19th century France. The Palazzetto Bru Zane - Centre de musique romantique française has followed suit by officially publishing this concert version, which also features some excellent vocal soloists. Admired by Balzac, Sand and Dumas, this ‘grand opéra à la française’ (great French opera) faded into obscurity after the First World War. Its creator became a sort of pariah – one met with both condescension and mockery. With its ‘seductive and haunting melodies’ (Alexandre Dratwicki), it’s nevertheless a flamboyant work that greatly inspired his contemporaries, such as Verdi, who referred to it in La Traviata. The extraordinary impact of Robert le Diable was such that it was performed a great many times on every continent. A true one-man band, Marc Minkowski has invested himself entirely in this undertaking, learning this vast score practically by heart and conducting it with his usual power and conviction. The international cast is full of surprises thanks to their deep understanding of the work and the protagonists’ fantastic pronunciation. This new release, to the credit of the Bru Zane label, revitalises our knowledge of this work that’s scarcely mentioned in specialised dictionaries. © François Hudry/Qobuz

The gestation of this project lasted two years. Anna Prohaska and Julius Drake finally concentrated their research on the themes of Eve, Paradise and banishment. Some songs were obvious choices, such as Fauré’s Paradis, in which God appears to Eve and asks her to name each flower and animal, or Purcell’s Sleep, Adam, sleep with its references to Genesis. But Anna Prohaska also wished to illustrate the cliché of the woman who brought original sin into the world and her status as a tempter who leads man astray, as in Brahms’s Salamander, Wolf’s Die Bekehrte or Ravel’s Air du Feu. In Das Paradies und die Peri, Schumann conjures up the image of Syria’s rose-covered plains. Bernstein also transports us to the desert with Silhouette.. John Milton’s seventeenth-century masterpiece Paradise Lost was the inspiration for Charles Ives and Benjamin Britten, also featured in this very rich programme that constitutes an invitation to travel and reflection. © Alpha Classics

Christophe Rousset and the Talens Lyriques bring us to the stage of the Royal Academy of Music where Pygmalion, an act of ballet by Jean-Philippe Rameau inspired by an episode of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, was created in 1748. Love, showing empathy for Pygmalion’s despair of loving a statue, invigorates the sculpted woman who immediately falls in love with her creator. Very suggestive, the music of this tender and mischievous ballet deploys the grace of 18th century dances. Like Ovid’s Love, Christophe Rousset instils life in this score, one of Rameau’s greatest successes in his day, and offers us, thanks to his sense of drama and his impeccable leadership, a new and essential reading of this ballet. © Aparté

The stated aim of this Signum Classics release is pretty murky: "Inspirations and imaginings, evolving, changing English usage, landscapes, friendships, and passings lie behind this album," reads the booklet. The idea is that the divine relates to beauty these days. More important, perhaps, is another feature: countertenor Iestyn Davies and the superb pianist Joseph Middleton offer a new entry in the increasingly common trend of countertenor performance of music outside the usual Renaissance and Baroque repertory. Davies' program includes some Purcell songs but is mostly drawn from the contemporary era. Listeners will make up their own minds about this, but it is worth noting that Davies has done it quite intelligently. He includes pairs of works by Thomas Adès and Nico Muhly. All of his contemporary pieces refer, some quite subtly, to Renaissance and Baroque styles, even the dissonant The Lover in Winter of Adès. Muhly's Four Traditional Songs are a fascinating modern take-off on the folk music strain in 20th century English music. Perhaps the highlights are the Six Songs from "A Shropshire Lad" of George Butterworth, which retain the foursquare construction of A.E. Housman's poetry but add a deep note of uneasy nostalgia that, although the songs were written prior to World War I, seem to prefigure the losses of that war, losses that included Butterworth's own death. Listeners who find countertenors self-indulgent when they depart from their usual circles should hear this release.© James Manheim /TiVo

Anyone who has tracked Ty Segall's creative evolution since he launched his solo career in 2008 has probably noticed that new elements regularly float into his eclectic musical worldview, but very little ever entirely goes away. His canvas has gotten broader and his color palette has expanded at each turn, and 2018's Freedom's Goblin finds him putting practically all of it to work. Freedom's Goblin is a sprawling and ambitious album, packing 19 songs into 75 minutes, and while its sheer size is impressive, what really sets it apart is the wealth of ideas springing forward in every track, as well as the strength of the execution. The noisy attack of Segall's guitar is still at the center of this music, as always, but there's a great deal else going on. Ben Boye's keyboards are bigger in the mix than before, bassist Mikal Cronin and drummer Charles Moothart are still the smartest and strongest rhythm section Segall's had to date, and the use of horns on several tracks gives these songs a big, bold feel. Emmett Kelly returns as a superb foil for Segall's exploratory guitar solos (there are a few jam-nific guitar duels that would bring a smile to plenty of classic rock fans), and the band is on fire from beginning to end; the homespun sloppiness of some of Segall's early efforts has given way to a focus that's tight without strangling the performances. (The crisp, clear recording by Steve Albini gives the performances a welcome assist.) The bold strut of the opening "Fanny Dog" connects like top-shelf garage punk played by the Mad Dogs & Englishmen band, the taut and buzzy cover of Hot Chocolate's 1978 disco smash "Every 1's a Winner" shows Segall and his band can cut the funk in their own way, "My Lady's on Fire" adds a dash of Laurel Canyon mellow vibes to the mix, "Talkin 3" suggests Segall and his crew have been listening to old James Chance records, "Meaning" charges out of the gate like a ramped-up version of vintage Black Sabbath, and the closing number, "And, Goodbye," sounds like the best Neil Young extended jam since "Don't Spook the Horse." Much of the time, Freedom's Goblin plays like Ty Segall's version of the history of rock & roll as seen from his perspective, and it's as idiosyncratic and exciting as you would expect. It's also some of the very best music Segall has given us to date, essential for fans and strongly recommended to curious newcomers.© Mark Deming /TiVo

Tony Banks, the renowned founder member and keyboard maven of the rock band Genesis, continues his acclaimed series of orchestral compositions with Five. The suite opens with Prelude to a Million Years, originally commissioned for and performed at the Cheltenham Music Festival. Banks’ signature melodic gifts and feel for cinematic scale are all in evidence in "Five", just as they were in "Six" and "Seven", ‘a work of stirring beauty’ (ProgSheet). © Naxos

A young ensemble of instrumentalists and singers revives the precious historical practice of singers accompanying themselves (already brought back into currency by the soloist Vivabiancaluna Biffi), thus producing a wholly new sound in music usually assigned to unaccompanied voices. With Concerto di Margherita, self-accompanied singing becomes "collective" for the first time in our era, and is amplified in a shared gesture in which all the members of the group – playing and singing together with extraordinary coordination – produce a sonority unprecedented in this repertory. Created at the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis in Switzerland, the group (which is named after the Duchess of Ferrara, Margherita Gonzaga) performs as a consort of five voices, theorbo, harp, viola da gamba, guitar and lutes, inspired by the "Concerto delle dame" of Ferrara. The recording debut of Concerto di Margherita presents arrangements of a wide range of instrumental and vocal works (madrigals, villanellas and canzonas), drawing on music by De Wert, Gastoldi, Monteverdi and the "blind man’s buff" scene from Giovanni Battista Guarini’s Il pastor fido (1580). © Arcana