Ever since Peter Shaffer's play Amadeus and the subsequent film by Milos Forman, the operas of Mozart's rival Antonio Salieri have enjoyed a revival: historians determined that not only did Salieri not poison Mozart, he admired him, and Mozart at least respected the older Italian. Indeed, Les Horaces (1786) represents several accomplishments that were not on Mozart's résumé: it is a full-scale French opera, and its recitatives are orchestrally accompanied and contribute elegantly to the action. Berlioz, always an astute critic, numbered himself among the admirers of Salieri's French operas of the 1780s; this one was not as successful as the others, but that could have been due to any number of factors. The plot deals with a woman, Camille, whose romantic life is caught between factions in a war in early Roman times, and Rousset's live reading here benefits from a strong soprano lead, Dutch singer and French Baroque specialist Judith van Wanroij. Other singers likewise step up, but the real credit goes to Rousset, who gets the strengths of Salieri's score: the grand intermèdes, and the exciting finale of Act 1, where the joining-together of action and music is in Mozart's league even if the tunes are not. Also praiseworthy is the engineering work of the curiously named Little Tribeca team, who obtain the best possible sound from none other than Versailles. Highly recommended to those who have dismissed Salieri: this is a sympathetic and enthusiastic performance of his music. © TiVo

In 1743, two years before Rameau’s Platée, Boismortier created an extraordinarily modern and madcap "comic ballet", Don Quichotte chez la Duchesse. As the exuberant plotunfurls, Cervantes’ hero encounters monsters, enchanters, princesses and people from Japan, making for plenty of offbeat and audacious dances and choruses. Musical beautyrubs shoulders with satirical and irreverent comedy. A choice work for Hervé Niquet, who leads his Concert Spirituel with unparalleled energy! © Château de Versailles Spectacles

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

Romanian composer George Enescu's 1931 opera Oedipe is an epic work on several levels, including its dramatic scope -- from the protagonist's birth to his death -- and in the huge performing forces it requires. It stands for the most part outside the modernist or post-Romantic operatic conventions of its time and inhabits a sound world that uses a familiar harmonic language, but in idiosyncratic ways. The composer's Romanian roots and the influences of impressionism are in strong evidence, but the work isn't easily pigeonholed; it has moments of rough folkloric primitivism, meltingly lush romanticism, elegant delicacy, and surprising experimental techniques. Oedipe was Enescu's only opera, but he shows a sure hand in the vividness of his musical characterizations and in creating dramatic tension, which the story has in abundance. The opera's finale is absolutely stunning, with wave after wave of surging, astonishing grandeur that finally subsides into an ending of breathtaking serenity. This recording, with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo, Les Petits Chanteurs de Monaco, and the chorus Orféon Donostiarra, conducted by Lawrence Foster, features a star-studded cast that includes José van Dam, Gabriel Bacquier, Nicolai Gedda, Brigitte Fassbaender, and Barbara Hendricks. The performance and production values for the release are exceptionally high and make a compelling case for the opera. Foster could have paced the opera's conclusion more broadly and expressively, but otherwise his reading is fully engaging. Enescu writes beautifully for the voice, and the entire large cast sings with gorgeous tone and deep conviction. Van Dam is overwhelming in the title role; he is on-stage for virtually all of the second, third, and fourth acts, and he ages convincingly from an impetuous youth to an old man. His portrayal of the troubled protagonist is warmly compassionate, and his voice is rich and searingly powerful; he has all the charisma required to pull off a memorable depiction of one of history's most famous archetypes. Most of the other roles are relatively brief, but Barbara Hendricks and Marjana Lipovsek are standouts as a sympathetic Antigone and a maniacal Sphinx. EMI's sound is full, clean, and enveloping, with excellent balance. On the basis of this exemplary recording, Oedipe clearly has the musical and dramatic values to merit serious consideration for revival by adventurous companies, and exploration by fans of modern opera.© TiVo

Elisabeth Claude Jacquet de la Guerre was a harpsichord prodigy brought to the court of Louis XVI, France's Sun King, at the age of 12. Her music disappeared after her death in 1732, erased from historical memory like the works of other female composers in the way that Communist governments used to retouch photos in order to eliminate individuals deemed non-approved. Like Bach, she was a talented improviser at the keyboard. Her works, in various genres, were published with the king's approval, but they have only recently been rediscovered. Recordings of her music are still rare, and this two-disc set may be the first real survey of her work as a whole. It covers music from her two books of Pièces de clavecin, separated from each other by two decades, as well as ballet music, songs, a violin sonata, sacred and secular cantatas, assorted songs, and more. There are also several spoken tracks with texts praising the talents of Jacquet de la Guerre. As can be seen from this list of genres, Jacquet de la Guerre was in the forefront of experimentation with new Italian genres such as the cantata and sonata. But on the evidence here it is her harpsichord music that is the real revelation. The second book of harpsichord music, from 1707, shows the influence of François Couperin, but even in the youthful first book there is a strikingly assured handling of harmony and texture that makes one wonder how her music could have remained abandoned for so long. Jacquet de la Guerre's miniature dance suite movements are packed with dense chromatic modulations that rival Rameau's, and with individualistic textures that bear comparison with those of François Couperin. It may be that the harpsichord works outshine the rest of the music here because the performances by harpsichordist Frances Conover Fitch are superior to those of the other Boston-area musicians she has assembled; the two cantatas on disc two in particular are tough going. A single disc might have served the composer's interests better, but if this disc inspires new performances from the likes of Pierre Hantaï and Emma Kirkby, it will have done its job. © TiVo