naïve classique

The centenary of the death of Saint-Saëns has inspired French violinist Geneviève Laurenceau to create a programme of contrasts for her many-faceted instrument, which in her hands becomes both intimate and virtuosic, chamber music and concertante all in one. This Saint-Saëns memorial year is an invitation to the more adventurous spirits to explore some of his less familiar works. Among them is French violinist Geneviève Laurenceau, who has devised this album with herself as soloist as an extended poem of varied stanzas profiling "a rather different Saint-Saëns, whose warm and luminous elegance of style gives the instruments a singing voice – singing not only with virtuosity but with a profound sense of humanity". Other voices the violin encounters are the cello of Yan Levionnois (for La Muse et le poète, a kind of symphonic poem for duo), and the harp of Pauline Haas (in a little jewel, the Fantaisie for violin and harp). Further partners in this dialogue are the Orchestre de Picardie under the baton of Benjamin Levy (in the Violin Concerto No. 1, and the Romances Op. 37 and Op. 48). As a double act of tribute from one violinist to another, Geneviève Laurenceau also gives us the pyrotechnics of Eugène Ysaÿe’s virtuoso Caprice, based on Saint-Saëns’s Étude en forme de valse Op. 52 No. 6. Ysaÿe was closely associated with Saint-Saëns, and gave the first performance of La Muse et le poète. Geneviève Laurenceau presents all these rarely-heard works (covering the period from the late 1850s to 1910) with consummate mastery. She is completely at ease, generously outgoing in all musical partnerships and in every situation, from the most intimate moments to the height of symphonic ecstasy, as she shows "to what extent Saint-Saëns’s instrumental style is permeated by the voice, its theatricality and drama, and its often abrupt shifts of mood or character". Clearly, for her this French repertoire is more than a passion: it is her musical mother tongue. © naive classique

Four years after her boundary-breaking album "Bach Unlimited", pianist Lise de la Salle presents an extremely personal odyssey inspired by her love of the dance and her fascination with the period 1850 to 1950. More than just a question, Lise de la Salle’s "When do we dance?" is an invitation to a voyage, "one that explores the different ways in which dance takes possession of the body". A voyage in time, through a whole century (1850-1950) with the accent on modernity; a voyage over the oceans, from North America to Eastern Europe, criss-crossing Argentina, Spain, France, Hungary and Russia; a voyage to the very core of rhythm, that essential anchor point for the dance as for music in general, that enlivens the ragtimes of Gershwin and Bolcom, Bartók’s folk dances, a waltz by Saint-Saëns and a tango by Stravinsky. Pursuing her synchronic route with radiant versatility, the French pianist moves freely around the globe, encompassing diverse cultures with as much poetry as virtuosity, by turns setting the piano aflame with sensuality in Ginastera’s Argentine Dances, making it sound impishly seductive in 1930s swing, exquisitely refined in Ravel’s Valses nobles et sentimentales, or powerfully romantic in a Waltz by Scriabin. There are evergreens, such as Art Tatum’s take on Tea for Two, Gershwin’s When Do We Dance? and the Ritual Fire Dance by de Falla. There are also several less familiar pieces to discover: Stravinsky’s Tango, Rachmaninoff’s Polka italienne, and the Étude en forme de valse by Saint-Saëns. As a luminous pendant to this amazing multi-journey to thefour corners of the globe, we can read a declaration of love: Lise de la Salle’s own tribute to the art of the dance that has forever fascinated her. To her own wonderment, at the piano she finds dance simply flowing through her, and she is constantly learning from it. This pianist for whom "dance is a pleasure to be shared with others" here divulges its secrets. © naive classique

Only now are we fully aware of the true immensity of Vivaldi’s concerto repertoire. The violin is by no means the only instrument he favoured: the place of the bassoon in his work catalogue is remarkable for its size and stylistic homogeneity, as well as for his solistic treatment of an instrument previously confined to the continuo. Seven new concertos here join the twenty-six already recorded in the first four volumes of the Vivaldi Edition, an anthology Sergio Azzolini embarked on in 2009 with L’Aura Soave, and now builds on with L’Onda Armonica. Press reviews have unfailingly acclaimed every new release. "[Sergio Azzolini] is an accomplished master of his instrument, and despite all the difficulties with which Vivaldi challenges the performer, he transforms them into something wondrous - his virtuosity is amazing, but he also has a gift for characterizing every melody in an almost magical way", wrote Early Music Review on the appearance of his first volume of the concertos in October 2010.

The complete Suites for Solo Cello by Bach, in the hands of lutenist/theorbo player Hopkinson Smith. This double album does restorative justice to a complete edition that up to now was split into two albums, appearing separately between 1981 (Astrée) and 2013 (Naive classique). It provides an opportunity to fully appreciate the art of Hopkinson Smith, this master of Renaissance and Baroque plucked string instruments, a performer and pedagogue who is honoured and respected by generations of early music practitioners. It also offers the chance of surveying in full Bach’s six Suites for Solo Cello (BWV 1007-1012) in the new, colourful light of their arrangement for lute and theorbo. Being on intimate terms with Bach’s music, having studied it for several decades, Hopkinson Smith is the perfect mediator of these dance movements, by turns virtuoso and contemplative, constantly highlighting the polyphonic possibilities of the solo cello, somehow intensified by the stirring sound of the plucked strings, while also bringing out the music’s energetic expressiveness and lyricism. It all emerges so naturally under his masterly hands, which have also crafted five of the six transcriptions – the Suite BWV 1011 arrangement being by Bach’s own work. ‘From the very first notes, one is struck by the sheer completeness of the performance’, wrote Classica in March 2013, awarding a "Choc" distinction to the first three Suites. "The choice of keys, the ornamentation, the addition of the bass voices, the rhythmic flexibility, and the way the tempi are adapted to suit the resonance of the instrument: it has all been carefully throught through so as to reach the heart of Bach’s music". This tour de force has made these six works into benchmark recordings without equal, now integrated in this re-issue. © naive classique

As Esteban Hernández Castello explains in the accompanying booklet: "This enables us to range through the whole gamut of musical languages the composer employed, from the simplest to the most elaborate, including – and why not – pieces whose attribution is still uncertain". In Rinaldo Alessandrini’s playing we again encounter the unpretentious elegance that is his hallmark, his attention to detail and nuance, and the radiant thoughtfulness he bestows on the polyphony – qualities that have been refined over the years by his work with Concerto Italiano and his intensive cultivation of the vocal repertoire. © naive classique

Following on Quatuor Diotima’s first excursion into Spanish territory (their 2017 recording of music by Alberto Posadas) this new single-composer addition to its discography shows what remarkable diversity may exist among contemporary composers of the same nationality and generation. Mauricio Sotelo (born 1961) is a highly prolific composer and active participant in the current European scene, whose four string quartets to date, composed between 2002 and 2017, exemplify in many different ways how both flamenco and the music of Luigi Nono – Sotelo’s spiritual master since the 1980s – have consciously influenced his entire oeuvre. Without any trace of folklorism, and with no sense of restrictive constraint, this Madrid composer has nonetheless rooted himself in the dance music of Andalusia, feeding on the heady rhythms of the bulería in Quartets No. 3 and No. 4 – in the latter work he also probes into Beethoven’s Op. 131 Quartet. Sotelo embodies the cante jondo in a slow-moving ritual (Quartet No. 2), deploys subtle percussive effects (in Quartet No. 1 and Quartet No. 2) and adapts traditional thematic and rhythmic material (see Quartet No. 1, which additionally references Luigi Nono and the philosopher poet Giordano Bruno). These quartets continually reflect the alter flamenco or "spectral flamenco" which is Sotelo’s hallmark. He defines himself as a "contemporary composer using the voice of the cantaor flamenco", and with their fiery interpretations the string players of the Quatuor Diotima certainly set his music aflame. © naive classique

This new concept album confirms an already well-established trend, that of a new generation of young classical musicians who feel stifled by their repertoires and want to open the doors to freedom, or to what they see as freedom. In Cello 360, Christian-Pierre La Marca created a work for solo cello without any accompaniment, totally cross-genre, which pays no heed to temporal or stylistic boundaries. It runs from Marin Marais to Dutilleux, from Purcell to Ligeti, from Thierry Escaich to Charlie Chaplin and The Beatles with disarming ease and a technical mastery which lets him give free rein to his artistic expression. Having only one (beautiful) instrument at his disposal, he plays with different bows, which prove so important for the production of sound, attack, power and rhythmic subtlety. He also selects different acoustics and sound recording techniques to match his chosen works.  His album, which doesn't belong in any one realm, defies classification. © François Hudry/Qobuz

The impression of the ink still being wet on the page is not an unfamiliar one when listening to Fabio Biondi and Europa Galante, such is the freshness and elan they inject into everything they turn their musical attentions to. However in the case of their Vivaldi Edition Argippo the ink pretty much was still wet as they recorded it, because this is Bernardo Ticci's 2019 reconstruction of what is in fact a lost Vivaldi pasticcio (a cutting and pasting together of music from other operas), created in 1730 for the Venetian impresario Antonio Peruzzi to stage in Vienna and Prague. The reconstruction has been possible because the librettos from those two productions remain, plus a set of arias, and also the full score of a complete three-act, untitled and anonymous opera featuring arias from up to twelve other composers – and both the arias and the score appear to be derived, albeit with many changes, from the Prague libretto. The result is a reconstruction which on the one hand is decidedly scant on actual music by Vivaldi, given that even those arias believed to be from his pen can't be confirmed as such, and they appear alongside arias by Galeazzi, Pescetti, Hasse, Porpora, (possibly) Fiorè and Vinci. However, it's also a stylistically diverse and thus thoroughly entertaining offering that bears all the hallmarks of a Vivaldi pasticcio, and is undoubtedly in the spirit of one. Argippo's action takes place in the Bengali Kingdom – a tapping into the contemporary Venetian enthusiasm for tales of the East, although that influence didn't bleed into the musical style itself. A classic Baroque opera plot centred around lies and mistaken identities – King Argippo of Chittagong and his wife Osira almost lose their lives while visiting the court of the Gran Mogol Tisifaro, because the Tisifaro's cousin Silvero seduces his daughter Zanaida while disguised as Argippo – it's high on drama and strife before eventually reaching its happy conclusion. So, add the multi-composer score, and Biondi's five-strong cast have plenty to get their teeth into. Highlights include the opera's first fizzing showstopper, “Se lento ancora”, contralto Delphine Galou as the Gran Mogol Tisifaro's daughter Zanaida making light work of her leaping figures and embellishments as she anguishes over being betrayed by her lover. Also the soft and fruity-toned fluidity to the vocal acrobatics of ‘Un certo non so che’, sung by soprano Marie Lys as a fearful Osira. Equally fine voiced are soprano Emőke Baráth in the title role, contralto Marianna Pizzolato as Silvero, and bass Luigi de Donato as Tisifaro. Europa Galante themselves bring it all together with their characteristic blend of warmth, fizz and dramatic flair, having launched things with a cracker of an opening Sinfonia. In short, great fun. © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz

Comprised of pianist Pauline Chenais, violinist Clémence de Forceville and cellist Angèle Legasa, Trio Sōra may well be a new name to many Qobuz listeners, when this is a debut album. That said, the name is likely to ring bells for anyone who keeps an eye on Europe's various young artist programmes and festival academies, because this young French ensemble's notable achievements of recent years include the Special Prize of the Verbier Festival Academy in 2018, and in 2020 a Borletti-Buitoni Trust Fellowship. Spread across three opus numbers, Beethoven's piano trios begin with the three-strong Op. 1 set, published in 1795 when he was in his mid-twenties, and stylistically still firmly rooted in the Viennese Classicism of Haydn. However Romanticism is thoroughly in the picture by the time he returned to the genre in 1808, shortly after completing the “Pastoral” Symphony No. 6, penning the Op. 70 pair with its famous “Ghost” Trio No. 1. Finally there's the grand Op. 97 “Archduke” Trio of 1811 - technically another middle period work, but one which with the almost symphonic scope of its four movements and complex emotional world feels feels well ahead of its time. What Trio Sōra bring to the set is immensely enjoyable. In performance practice terms, these are broadly “modern” readings, employing unobtrusive vibrato, and even subtle portamento at the most Romantic and impassioned end of the set. Beethoven's stormy switchings on the flip of a coin between dynamic extremes are realised with both clarity and charm: pianissimos are true whispers, and while sforzandos and fortissimos come with punch, it's never at the expense of beauty of tone; with the Opus 1 set in particular, Viennese elegance reigns supreme. As a result, the impression across the set is overwhelmingly of lightness of touch, sprightly and precise articulation. Yet don't interpret that description as “one flavour”, because these readings are anything but; not least because these three musicians are not shy about making this music their own. Take the “Archduke” Scherzo, where playful metrical tugs and pushes, and the odd slight second-beat emphasis, sometimes create an almost off-kilter effect, which then serves as a brilliant foil to other sections of rhythmically steady, joyous swing. Also mention-worthy is the poetry and technical aplomb with which Pauline Chenais rises to the demanding piano role, her tone beguilingly soft-focus and pearly one moment, and brightly crisp the next. A strong first recording. Bravo! © Charlotte Gardner/Qobuz