Everyone thinks that they know Alceste by Lully, and yet this 1674 masterpiece has almost never been recorded in its entirety. Apart from the Malgoire version from 1975 with Bruce Brewer and Felicity Palmer, which is starting to become outdated, the real treat is a second versoin by the same Malgoire twenty years later with Jean-Philippe Lafont and Colette Alliot-Lugaz... And so we can only take our hats off to the new discographical opus from Christophe Rousset's Talens Lyriques, a lively and elegant reading which allows us to rediscover everything that was so innovative about this brilliant, effervescent Florentine, who would become a typical Versaillais, a courtesan and a wheeler-dealer. King Louis XIV - 36 years old, still with all his own teeth and a victorious war leader - could only feel flattered by the piece signed by Quinault: Alcide, who covets the beautiful Alceste (who has been promised to Admetus), is none other than Hercules himself - Louis XIV seeing himself in Hercules saving the beautiful Madame de Montespan from the clutches of her husband. To be sure, in this opera, Admetus/Hercules magnanimously hands Alceste, whom he has saved from hell, to her husband, while the poor Mr Montespan would end his career and his life exiled in Gascony... Honour intact. The Sun King loved the work, to the point that he commanded that rehearsals be held at Versailles. According to Madame de Sévigné, "The King declared that if he found himself in Paris when it was performed, he would go to see it every night." That being said, if Alceste suited the tastes of the court, it didn't do so well in Paris, where Lully's enemies, jealous of the extravagant privileges that he had won (the exclusive right to "have sung any whole piece in France, wither in French verse or in other languages, without the written permission of said Sir Lully, on pain of a ten thousand livre fine, and confiscation of theatres, equipment, decorations, costumes..."), heaped plot upon plot, while the gallant Mercury sang his little couplet: Dieu !  Le bel opéra ! Rien de plus pitoyable ! Cerbère y vient japper d'un aboi lamentable !  Oh ! Quelle musique de chien ! Oh ! Quelle musique du diable ! [Lord!/Fine opera!/There's nothing so pitiable!/Cerberus is yapping, his howls lamentable!/What doggish music!/What devilish music!]. Posterity would decide otherwise, and Rousset proved it triumphantly. © SM/Qobuz

His first release since leaving R&B trio O.N.E. in 2001, Parce Qu'on Vient de Loin is the highly personal debut album from French-language vocalist Corneille. Based on his tragic real-life experiences of the 1994 genocide in his native Rwanda, which saw his family killed and led to him fleeing to Germany, its 14 self-produced tracks include the singles "Seul au Monde," "Avec Classe," "Ensemble," "Reves de Star," and the title track. A bonus edition featuring previously unreleased songs, acoustic remixes, and video clips was also later released.© Jon O'Brien /TiVo

Recorded in January 2019 in the studios of Radio Bremen in Germany, these two little operas by Rameau were performed at Versailles before King Louis XIV and his court. Les Plaisirs de Versailles were played in the royal apartments for a privileged few, while Les Arts florissants, a real showpiece for the state, demonstrates the importance held by the arts in the Kingdom of France. They speak of political power, and of the pacification of Europe by the King.Long-time performers of French baroque music, the musicians and singers of the Boston Early Music Festival are absolutely remarkable. Thanks to high-value instrumentalists and singers who have mastered French pronunciation, the performance led by musical directors Paul O'Dette and Stephen Stubbs hits the right note.It was official music to be sure, but it will be enjoyed for its intrinsic merit, quite apart from any political considerations. The unbearable lightness of being raises a smile, particularly in the third part of the Plaisirs de Versailles which sees an appearance by Comus, god of revels. He offers fine wines, exquisite cakes, and hot chocolate. "La Musique" refuses, fearing that the chocolate will only encourage "La Conversation". Stumped, Comus suggests that she resolve their dispute by playing. This whole allegory is pleasing and provides food for thought about a society which was uniquely self-absorbed, disdaining that "real life" beyond the confines of the château of which it was quite ignorant. © François Hudry/Qobuz