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

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

Fauré's Requiem, “funeral lullaby” written for enjoyment as the composer put it, has a unique place in history. It's soft, simple and modest poetry conveys moments of gentle contemplation and moving expressiveness which are entrusted to both the choir and the two soloists. With his Ensemble Aedes and the orchestra Les Siècles, Mathieu Romano is committed to render a Requiem faithful to its first performance. We hear thus the score in its original 1893 orchestration, where the organ plays a great role, and where Latin is pronounced in the French way as it used to be. The clearest articulation of the Ensemble Aedes then perfectly fits Éluard’s Figure humaine set to music by Francis Poulenc. We have never heard these sublime poems sung with such intelligibility before! Finally, the three Songs by Debussy elegantly close the album. Here again, the quality and clarity of the voices are stunning. Artistic director and founder of Ensemble Aedes has established himself as a magician of voices in a cappella scores. And voices ideally melt with the strings of Les Siècles under his baton. A 100% French cast in a 100% French music disc for a triple rediscovery. Essential! © Aparté

Jean-Marc Luisada is a passionate man. Cinema captivates him as much as music and his latest recording allows him to bring together the two worlds that are close to his heart. By taking the name of a famous French television programme by Armand Panigel as the title of his new album (Au Cinéma ce soir), the pianist invites us to share in his love of cinema, inflected with a good dose of nostalgia from the memory of his parents’ love. It would appear that the record is entirely dedicated to their memory.The fourteen films, chosen here by Jean-Marc Luisada for the publisher-bibliophile La Dolce Volta, span a period from 1958 (Les Amants by Louis Malle) to 1979 (Manhattan by Woody Allen). So many films, and so much music remaining true to the images. But what a choice for such a refined and informed film buff! Fellini’s La Dolce Vita rubs shoulders with Death in Venice by Luchino Visconti, undoubtedly one of the most beautiful films in the history of cinema, in which the adagietto from Mahler's Fifth Symphony (transcribed for the piano by Alexandre Tharaud) is the recurring theme of Gustav von Aschenbach's impossible quest in the alleys of Venice (which serve to illustrate August von Platen’s poetic verses): "Anyone who has ever contemplated Beauty with his eyes is already doomed to death".Amongst all these films, there is one that has a particular flavour; the disturbing Rendez-vous à Bray that André Delvaux shot in 1971, based on a short story by Julien Gracq. The music of the last piano opuses by Brahms turns the soul inside out like a glove, asking essential questions about absence, silence, and the confusion of feelings. The films evoked in this beautiful album seem to have rubbed off on Jean-Marc Luisada’s interpretations of Nino Rota, Mahler, Mozart (the moving Fantasy in D minor), Brahms, Wagner, and Chopin (who closes the programme with Cris and Chuchotements, the Ingmar Bergman film which ruthlessly examines the difficulty of human relationships). Of course, let’s not forget the dazzling smiles of Scott Joplin and George Gershwin, for whom Luisada gives an exuberant rendition of Rhapsody in Blue. © François Hudry/Qobuz

It has been a while since major studios gave up recording operas in studio due to a lack of investment and profitability. But the world-renowned reputation of Jonas Kaufmann has incited Sony Classical to record and produce this new version of Verdi’s Othello in studio in the “traditional style”. The work was produced over twelve days of session recording in the generous acoustics of the splendid Parco della Musica built in Rome by the architect Renzo Piano. It is no exaggeration when we say that this is a truly astounding version of Verdi’s masterpiece that stands shoulder to shoulder with the legendary versions of the flamboyant Toscanini (1947), the winning trio Vickers-Rysanek-Gobbi of Serafin (1960) and also the electrifying live performance of Carlos Kleiber (1976). There are of course many others of diverse merit but none so utterly satisfying.Jonas Kaufmann has waited patiently before taking on the compelling title role, singing previously as Cassio in Chicago before playing Otello in London in 2017 under the passionate direction of Antonio Pappano (interpretation available on DVD). Here, the same conductor is at helm of the supercharged and on great form, Orchestre de l’Académie Sainte-Cécile in Rome. Alongside his strong, moving, impulsive and ultimately fragile depiction of Otello, Jonas Kaufmann is joined by Federica Lombardi’s sublime Desdemona and Carlos Álvarez’s solid take on the sordid, treacherous and conniving Iago. Liparit Avetisyan and Carlo Bossi, who play Cassio and Rodrigo respectively, provide this ensemble with a perfect harmony. The sound recording provides a great presence to this vocal and instrumental delight and does justice to the aggression and violent colouring of Verdi’s final drama as the composer proves more than ever to be a match for Shakespeare. © François Hudry/Qobuz

Several famous pieces of music based on birdsong appeared in the 19th and 20th centuries; those by Saint-Saëns, Britten, and Ravel are here, although Messiaen is not. However, the affinity between music and birdsong had been explored for centuries before that, and the early music group La Rêveuse here provides some delightful examples. The always pictorial François Couperin is represented, as is Rameau, but other composers are less familiar but no less charming. Sample the works by Theodor Schwartzkopff, Michel Blavet, and especially Michel Pignolet de Montéclair (1667-1737), whose "Les Ramages" ("The Songs") names a group of birds and then illustrates their songs. Then there are historical-instrument versions of Saint-Saëns, Britten, and Ravel. One may accept this idea or not, but even in the latter case, they don't do much to dent the charm of the whole. The program ends with a work by contemporary composer Vincent Bouchot, Le Carnaval des animaux en péril, a kind of a take-off on Saint-Saëns for the Anthropocene era that also calls forth a striking variety of instruments from La Rêveuse. Another questionable idea is that, in keeping with the practices of this group, recorded birdsong is heard between some of the tracks. Whatever aspects of this release might be doubtful, it rarely fails to bring a smile. © James Manheim /TiVo