This eleven hour box set marks the 90th birthday of German mezzo-soprano Christa Ludwig, whose phenomenal career, which ran from 1950 to 1990, still inspires admiration in her colleagues (of course) and a growing number of music fans. She has collaborated with the greatest musicians of her age, most notably Herbert von Karajan, Leonard Bernstein and Otto Klemperer. She also shone in the genre of the Lied, with a brilliance comparable to Elisabeth Schwarzkopf's or Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau's – and of course she regularly performed with both – and these recordings with Gerald Moore and Geoffrey Parsons bear witness to her talents. A note on the brand-new releases that form part of this edition: some performances are published here for the first time*: these are Lieder with orchestra by Alban Berg (tracks 144 to 146), Max Reger (track 137) and Richard Wagner (track 124) as well as Lieder with piano by Hugo Wolf (track 14), Franz Schubert (tracks 15 and 16, 62 to 66) and Stille Nacht (track 89), which were left aside when they were first recorded, either because of the limits of the 33rpm format, or just because of a decision by the artistic director. This collection also sees some pieces re-published for the first time since their release on LP, such as the piece by Gluck (track 88), several of Brahms' Lieder (tracks 15 to 19, tracks 104 and 107). The recital of Brahms which Christa Ludwig would record alongside Walter Berry appears here in its entirety for the first time since it was first released (from track 67 to track 89, see above). © Qobuz

The mystery of the ballad comes from the way it is told.’ (Goethe). Epic to the point of hallucination, this genre calls for skill in narrative, word-painting, evocation. And it is as a peerless storyteller that Stéphane Degout tackles this repertory which the German Romantics raised to unequalled heights. Who would have believed, before listening to this disc, that a French baritone could pay such eloquent tribute to the language of Goethe? © harmonia mundi

"What could be more fascinating than the play of light and shadow? To descend into sensual melancholy, to dare to be fragile and to reveal oneself in its depths and inner nuances. I find that one way of illustrating this complexity of the senses is to compare two musical and pictorial schools: French Impressionism and German Expressionism. The colours and timbres employed by these two schools have long fascinated me just as much as the extreme refinement and detail of the paintings and compositions themselves. Each painter and composer explored the depths of the human soul in his or her own manner. This programme of works composed between 1899-1914 that laid the foundations for modern music is intended as a bridge between Expressionism and Impressionism. This parallel does not claim to illustrate their differences but rather to highlight their common points, to reveal the voluptuous and almost decadent sensuality of these two currents as well as their geographical and stylistic contrasts" (Coline Dutilleul) © Fuga Libera

The title of this release by soprano Robyn Allegra Parton refers not only to a general mood of circa-1900 Vienna but specifically to the frequent use of burnished gold-leaf in the paintings of Gustav Klimt, whose Vienna Secession movement in art had many affinities to what was happening in the musical world. Parton uses the gold as lipstick in the graphics; one may or may not go for this, but the package here is coherent and satisfying in several ways. Richard Strauss is present on the program, and Parton, writing her own notes, correctly points out that his influence loomed large on all the composers heard here. But in a way, the interest of Parton's program lies in the differences among the styles of the composers on the program. Parton puts the listener in the place of an audience member at a vocal recital of the time, hearing the Impressionist hints of Joseph Marx, the new simplicity of the young Erich Korngold, the decisive steps toward atonality in the Seven Early Songs of Berg (at the time Schoenberg's student), and the works of two female composers, the quite playful experimental Johanna Müller-Hermann and Alma Mahler-Schindler, both of whom were heard fairly frequently at the time but were later forgotten. Parton's voice is an absolutely distinctive soprano, with a bit of rough texture flashing unexpectedly into a brilliant top. Quite a few recordings lately have explored the rich repertory of Austrian vocal music of this period, but this one is especially well thought-out and executed; it appeared on classical best-seller charts in the summer of 2023. © James Manheim /TiVo

A year on from the release of Black Noise, one of 2010's most masterful and celebrated electronic releases, Hamburg techno maven Hendrik Weber issued this straightforwardly titled revisitation, boasting an enviable roster of A-list remixers that reflects his unique position straddling both the mainstream of European minimal electronica (Basic Channel pioneer Moritz von Oswald; Weber's erstwhile Dial labelmates Efdemin, Lawrence, and Carsten Jost) and the wider well of broadly indie-friendly acts (Four Tet, Animal Collective). Fully eight of these "versions" are based on a mere two of Black Noise's 11 cuts, with "Stick to My Side" alone accounting for five. Still, even though these are largely respectful reworkings, altering musical content but rarely the underlying emotional tone -- nobody effects a transformation nearly as striking, for instance, as the shift from the picturesque painted landscape on the original album cover to the stark, elegant, abstraction adorning XI Versions -- the resulting collection manages to be just as pleasantly varied and cohesively listenable as Black Noise, while distinct enough to be worth investigating on its own right. The three renderings of "Welt Am Draht" -- not necessarily a highlight of the original album, but nevertheless a lovely specimen of Pantha's fluidly floating yet rigorously rhythmic style -- are an illustrative example. Von Oswald turns in a typically entrancing, atmospheric dub, stripping the track down and refitting it with an airier, gently syncopated pulse and reams of open space. Animal Collective preserve Pantha's ever-twinkling bells and chimes but sub in more basic "tribal" drumming for the rhythm and add a wash of their familiarly fractured, woozy vocals. And Hamburg-based duo Die Vögel, in the most remarkable mutation here, offer up a pulsating, densely layered live-brass-and-flutes opus recalling the oompah-flavored experiments of Nôze or Ricardo Villalobos, which shares only its basic rhythmic undercarriage with Weber's original (and only after a full two minutes of stuttered, harmonically rich brass chorale). None of these three tracks sounds anything alike, but they work remarkably well together since each in its own way picks up on Pantha's predominant aesthetic cues, by and large remaining elegantly smooth and subdued, yet subtly, sinuously propulsive. The same goes for the five "Stick" remixes, although they tend to be less adventurous and, save for the endlessly spiraling synths and cheerful thump of Four Tet's version and Walls' beatless, lushly reverberant take, can feel somewhat formalist and occasionally overly static. Hieroglyphic Being's unrecognizable, incongruously mechanical mix of "Satellite Sniper" is the only real misstep (albeit a minor one), and all told this is one of the most rewarding remix albums in recent memory. © K. Ross Hoffman /TiVo

This 2023 release from the Aparté label offers almost an embarrassment of riches. Begin with the presence of the veteran Thomas Hampson, giving Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau a run for his money as a singer who sounds great well into senior citizen-hood. There are a few shadows in the voice, but the sense of drama in Der Erlkönig is electrifying, perhaps more than ever. There are the younger singers whom Hampson has brought along for the ride, most notably soprano Sunhae Im giving commanding performances of three of Liszt's Schubert song orchestrations. There is the repertory; Liszt's orchestral songs are, in general, a neglected part of his output, and here are no fewer than four world premieres. Weimars Toten is a fascinating part of the cultural history of that metropolis, explicated nicely by annotator Klaus Aringer. There is also clear yet intimate, ideally idiomatic sound from the Lisztzentrum Raiding. One could go on with this list, but perhaps it is desirable to leave further items for listeners to discover on what will surely be multiple hearings. A wonderful recording. © James Manheim /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

Neither Mozart nor Strauss is much known for songs, but their pairing here, nicely framing the golden age of the German lied, succeeds in showing the virtues of both as song composers. Soprano Sabine Devieilhe has often taken up Mozart's music. She is new to Strauss, but she catches his Classical, or neo-Classical, side in the selections on this album, wisely avoiding heavier material. The elegant little structures of Mozart's songs seem to bloom into Strauss' more elaborate treatments of similar structures, and when Strauss does open up his range, as in the wildly flowery Amor, Devieilhe, known for her interpretation of the Queen of the Night's "Der Hölle Rache" in Die Zauberflöte, K. 620, is ready. Mozart, in turn, is ennobled by this program, with small melodic details emerging nicely in the work of Devieilhe and the lively and timbrally varied accompanist Mathieu Pordoy. The whole project has the feel of small treasures known to performers who take pleasure in sharing them, an impression reinforced by the photos of the pair in the graphics and also by the acoustic environment of a small hall at the Paris Opera. A delightful song recital that rightly made classical best-seller charts in the spring of 2024.© James Manheim /TiVo

Georg Philipp Telemann never wrote a Christmas oratorio, but that hasn't stopped performers from assembling them out of holiday-season cantatas. The one here by veteran choral conductor Hermann Max and his instrumental group Das Kleine Konzert isn't the first one. It is not even the first one on the CPO label. There is no basis for objecting to this kind of creative repertory expansion, for Bach's Christmas Oratorio, BWV 248, was put together in basically the same way. Telemann isn't Bach, though most listeners will find satisfying listening here for the holiday season or any other time, and this album, in fact, made classical best-seller lists in early 2024. Max and company program five Telemann cantatas, unfailingly tuneful and well-made in the composer's characteristic way. One striking thing is that there are two quite late works from the 1750s and 1760s; the others are from earlier in Telemann's career, yet the style remains consistent. In some genres, Telemann caught on to the emerging light styles coming from Italy, but in church cantatas, he seems to have played it straighter. Max is not known as an adherent of the one-voice-per-part philosophy, yet here, his choruses are taken by the four soloists from his fine Rheinische Kantorei choir; there is no chorus. This is less than ideal. From what we know of Telemann's late occasional works, they were big, festive affairs. However, the decision was likely the result of COVID-era restrictions (the album was recorded in December of 2020), and in the airy acoustic of Cologne's Trinitatiskirche, one doesn't miss the choir much. Moreover, the choruses are mostly not simply chorales but are more complex polyphonic pieces; one quotes the old In dulci jubilo hymn, a pure Telemann move. The interpretations generally have Max's characteristic warmth, and the soloists (in the solos) are idiomatic and direct. Telemann lovers will enjoy this release.© James Manheim /TiVo

By no means should you be expecting the "typical" productions we so often associate with the violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja. Together with the soprano Anna Prohaska, she has developed a highly original programme which brings violin and vocals together. In this respect, while we were delighted to find a recording of the beautiful and all too rare Maria-Triptychon, which Frank Martin wrote in 1968 for Irmgard Seefried and her violinist husband Wolfgang Schneiderhan, we wonder whether it was really necessary to dismantle this polyptych whose three movements tell the story of the mother of Christ with perfect fluidity.It must be said that the entirety of this unusual album feels rather all over the place, very much like György Kurtág who unsurprisingly features in this curious inventory of a thousand years of music, from Hildegard von Bingen to the present day.We need to look elsewhere for the main theme and, more precisely, at the questioning of the two musicians around the subject of female emancipation and “the sensitive exploration of their common experiences as women evolving in the current music industry.” This quest for content, set to music around the figure of Mary, evokes a mixture of shimmering colours created by the Camerata de Berne orchestra, and depicts a journey through the ages and arias which incorporates so many of the contradictions of human nature. We highly recommend that you immerse yourself fully, and listen to these twenty tracks from beginning to end. This way you will be better able to appreciate this strangely fascinating patchwork, which feels like a work of art in its own right. © François Hudry/Qobuz

The veteran pianist Rudolf Buchbinder is known best for Haydn and Mozart, but he has the kind of record that has earned him the right to do pretty much what he wants in later life. Here, he plays transcriptions of Brahms songs by Max Reger, items that most listeners will not have heard. Of course, on the one hand, transcriptions were part and parcel of the 19th century scene (although perhaps less so in the song genre); on the other, 28 of these things, deprived of the texts, may sound like a lot, but Buchbinder's program is interesting on the whole. He takes his Brahms songs chronologically, and this yields various insights. There are simple pieces from throughout Brahms' lied output, but most of these songs are not simple, and without the contrast provided by the voice, the listener's attention is directed toward the place of the melody line in a web of polyphony. Consider a song as straightforward as the Wiegenlied, Op. 49, No. 4, the so-called "Brahms Lullaby." There turns out to be plenty going on below, and often above, the melody, holding the listener's interest in a whole new way. The chronological organization gives the listener a unique window into the growing density of Brahms' late style. There is probably no way to know whether Schoenberg and the other members of the Second Viennese School, great admirers of Brahms, heard the masterful treatment of register in these transcriptions, but they certainly might have. A fine offbeat find for Brahms lovers, and indeed those of Reger.© James Manheim /TiVo