If it is true that a real master is revealed only through limitation, then Georg Philipp Telemann with his overtures for wind instruments has provided the most compelling proof that he is indeed among them. Carin van Heerden and the L'Orfeo Wind Ensemble have already entertained us twice without showing the slightest sign of fatigue, with a selection of small-scale, heart-warming delights. This third release, too, is captivating from it's very first moments, creating a pull that is almost impossible to resist. Three oboes, two horns, a bassoon, a harpsichord and - in the opening march - a regimental drum treat us to an hour of welcome diversion. It's melodies and sounds are almost exuberant, for which, without wishing to pre-empt the critics' voices, a "clear recommendation to all lovers of quintessential Baroque music" will certainly be issued once again.

Handel's Baroque opera Giulio Cesare in Egitto unfolds here as a high-stakes drama of power, passion and survival. Dmitri Tcherniakov's powerful production strips the story to it's psychological core, placing political rivalry and a fiery love story within the claustrophobic setting of an underground bunker. Christophe Dumaux delivers a compelling Cesare, while Olga Kulchynska shines as a 'lyrical' Cleopatra in her Salzburg debut. With a superb supporting cast, above all Lucile Richardot as Cornelia 'with her smouldering mezzo' (BR Klassik) and Federico Fiorio as Sesto, Emmanuelle Haim conducts Le Concert d'Astree from the harpsichord, shaping 'a perfect whole' (Kurier) of musical brilliance and electrifying theatre.

A remarkable flowering period began for Spain around the middle of the 16th century: the kingdom ruled not only vast overseas territories, but also large parts of the Mediterranean world beyond the Iberian Peninsula, most prominently Naples. Economic prosperity opened up new horizons, and cultural diversity became a defining feature of the ensuing so-called Golden Age. In the 17th century, these diverse influences led to an extraordinary flourishing of music, especially in Naples. One particular specialty there was the mandolin - an instrument with a long tradition that now found entirely new forms of expression in combination with the human voice. The style that emerged became so renowned that it continued to inspire music throughout Europe for decades to come. The celebrated soprano and Baroque specialist Nuria Rial and the ensemble Artemandoline bring this fascinating musical world to life with both virtuosity and great sensitivity.

With a spectacular cast and the staging direction of Stefano Poda, this production of Verdi's Nabucco presents the Arena di Verona in a postmodern aesthetic brought to light through a futuristic vision, cosmic symbolism and absolute abstraction. Anna Netrebko gifts the festival's audience with a powerful interpretation of one of Verdi's most demanding roles: her Abigaille is 'beautiful, vivacious, magnetic' (La Stampa) and 'tackles this formidable challenge with great confidence' (Rivista Musica). Amartuvshin Enkhbat is 'a marvellous performer of Nabucco, deeply moving' (Forum Opera). 'Pinchas Steinberg conducts the choir and orchestra of the Arena di Verona with verve, power, brio and fire' (Der Merker), a magnificent performance that culminated in a rendition of 'Va' pensiero' brimming with pathos and intensity.

Palestrina's Song of Songs is one of the most beautiful and intimate collections of Renaissance sacred music and this album brings together all 29 settings performed by The Sixteen in one place. The cycle shows Palestrina at his most expressive and human, while still maintaining the balance, purity and clarity of text that he is famous for. Compared to some of his more formal liturgical works, Palestrina's Song of Songs have a more sensual and lyrical feel, reflecting the poetic and romantic nature of the text. Unusually for sacred music the Song of Songs are deeply romantic and sensual, yet Palestrina treats them with spiritual elegance, conveying the emotion through subtle harmonic shifts and melodic shaping.

(summary) In October 2024, the Orchestre National de France under the baton of music director Cristian Macelaru, immersed itself in one of the great symphonic works of Gustav Mahler (1860-1911): his extraordinary Resurrection Symphony. On this new recording, the epic journey unfolds serenely, bathed in warm pastoral colours. (complete blurb) Over two evenings on 24 and 25 October 2024, the Orchestre National de France under it's music director Cristian Macelaru immersed themselves in the extraordinary symphonic epic that Gustav Mahler wrote in the 1890s: his utterly unrestrained Symphony No. 2, the Resurrection. What a baptism of fire! The Romanian conductor, not known for his Mahler until now, boldly takes up, in Paris, the very same score that the legendary Leonard Bernstein conducted at his first great Parisian triumph on 13 November 1958-which as it happens was also with the Orchestre National. More than 70 years after Bernstein, Cristian Macelaru offers a vision that is the complete opposite, with a chamber-like approach of delicacy and pastoral warmth, in contrast to his illustrious predecessor's grandiose and solemn take. The textures are therefore amazingly light: the magnificent transparency of the strings is answered by woodwinds brimming with freshness, discreetly revealing the roots of a composer born not far from Prague who was passionately drawn to new sonorities and unexpected instrumental blends. Under the Romanian conductor's direction, joined here by the luminous soprano of Hanna-Elisabeth Muller and the amber-toned mezzo of Karen Cargill, the passionate journey of Resurrection becomes one of profound serenity. The architecture of the work remains consistently natural and supple, and the symphony finds it's unity effortlessly despite the remarkable diversity of soundscapes of which it is made. It was in 1888 that Gustav Mahler first conceived the large-scale symphonic piece he called Todtenfeier (Funeral Rites), in which he portrays, from the height of a steep promontory, the entire life of the hero of his First Symphony, the Titan. Slightly revised, this became the introductory Allegro maestoso of the Second Symphony, to which Mahler later added four more movements. The second takes the form of a shimmering Landler, deceptively gracious, with interwoven motifs. The third is a scherzo based on his song Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt ('St. Anthony of Padua preaching to the fishes', No. 6 from Des Knaben Wunderhorn). For the fourth movement, the composer draws on another song from Des Knaben Wunderhorn, No. 12, Urlicht ('Primeval Light'), preserving the vocal line while altering some of the orchestration and harmonic progressions. Gustav Mahler searched a long time for inspiration for the Finale, finding it eventually while listening to a choir sing a hymn during the funeral of the great conductor Hans von Bulow. The hymn was based on words by the poet Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock, and Mahler resolved then and there to conclude his work with this hymn to resurrection, supplementing Klopstock's text with several verses of his own. Overall, then, Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 2 opens with a meditation on death, and moves steadily through earthly life in all it's tenderness and irony to a proclamation of faith in the resurrection-the sole subject of the Finale-in which soloists, chorus and orchestra come together in a glorious gesture of reconciliation.

Platti, Giovanni Benedetto (1697-1763). Up until a few years ago, any judgement concerning the creative personality of Platti was based exclusively upon an analysis of his sonatas for harpsichord, together with a handful of his other works. This fact contributed to the inclusion of this composer from the Veneto in the company of so- called 'minor' composers of the eighteenth century, such names as G.B. Pescetti, D. Alberti, M. Vento, F. Pellegrini, G.M. Rutini, etc. In recent times, however, nearly all of Platti's production has been studied, and the results are overwhelmingly convincing that it in fact contains unquestionable masterpieces such as the Requiem Mass, the Stabat Mater, the Concerto for violin, some of the most beautiful concertos ever written for the violoncello, and many other works of notable interest. Thus Platti music may now be considered worthy of being included in the most serious the concert repertoires and recording catalogues. The Ensemble "J.M. Anciuti", featuring soloists of the calibre of Stefano Montanari on violin, Claudio Rufa on transverse flute, and Paolo Pollastri on oboe, offers us a superb period-instrument performance of the composer's chamber repertoire.

Johann Daniel Pucklitz stands among the most remarkable and inventive composers of the late German Baroque. Under the direction of Andrzej Szadejko, the Goldberg Baroque Ensemble continues it's ambitious Opera Omnia project with world premiere recordings of Pucklitz's strikingly imaginative cantatas. Volume 2 brings to light music that has remained unheard for centuries, revealing the richness and expressive power of a composer whose sacred works bridge the grandeur of Bach's world with the emerging stylistic shifts of the Rococo and the Age of Sensibility.

Since it's inception in 2016, the Duo Kiasma has shared a common delight: to surprise audiences through the unexpected pairing of the cello and the accordion. Indeed, what could be more unusual than the combination of the 'little prince' of classical music with the accordion - the quintessential folk instrument, steeped in the memories, celebrations and melancholy of entire peoples? Unusual, certainly. Ridiculous? Certainly not. Rostropovich himself claimed that the bayan (the Russian accordion) was a better match for the cello than the piano. Who are we to contradict the great Soviet maestro? Actually, these two instruments share the essentials: bow and bellows - both breathe and sing, capable of both strength and fragility. After several years spent transcribing works by Bartok and Gluck, as well as Daft Punk and Ennio Morricone, the Duo Kiasma has gradually refocused it's exploration on a repertoire that has emerged almost naturally: Baroque music. POLARIS thus marks a decisive milestone in the Duo's journey. Like the star from which it takes it's name, this album serves as a landmark in a constantly expanding aesthetic universe, revolving around three leading Baroque composers: Rameau, Bach and Vivaldi.

Northern Dawn reveals the music of Dieterich Buxtehude (1637-1707) through the intimate voice of the Baroque lute. In his transcriptions of keyboard and instrumental music, Elias Conrad traces a five-part, cantata-like journey of seeking, longing, pleading, hoping, and trusting. Emerging from the darkness of a war-torn century, this programme becomes a quiet, luminous counterpoint to the noise of our own time and casts Dieterich Buxtehude as a radiant light.

With a spectacular cast and the staging direction of Stefano Poda, this production of Verdi's Nabucco presents the Arena di Verona in a postmodern aesthetic brought to light through a futuristic vision, cosmic symbolism and absolute abstraction. Anna Netrebko gifts the festival's audience with a powerful interpretation of one of Verdi's most demanding roles: her Abigaille is 'beautiful, vivacious, magnetic' (La Stampa) and 'tackles this formidable challenge with great confidence' (Rivista Musica). Amartuvshin Enkhbat is 'a marvellous performer of Nabucco, deeply moving' (Forum Opera). 'Pinchas Steinberg conducts the choir and orchestra of the Arena di Verona with verve, power, brio and fire' (Der Merker), a magnificent performance that culminated in a rendition of 'Va' pensiero' brimming with pathos and intensity.

The Flemish Music Heritage series is a journey of discovery, reviving remarkable pieces of musical heritage. Forgotten scores are brought to light, and familiar compositions are given a fresh perspective. In close collaboration with the Study Centre for Flemish Music, the recordings are founded on intensive research in libraries and archives and meticulously prepared score editions. The works, expertly selected by connoisseurs, are performed by valued musicians and ensembles who passionately restore neglected and forgotten composers to the recognition they deserve. With these vibrant composer monographs, Antarctica Records aims to broaden horizons and enrich the repertoire with rediscovered treasures from the past. This FMH album focuses on works for piano solo by Lodewijk Mortelmans (1868-1952). Performed by Jozef de Beenhouwer, who has championed romantic and late romantic music for decades, the album sheds light on a versatile and refined voice in Belgian musical history.

The King's Singers: Live at Christmas captures the celebrated vocal sextet in a live performance recorded at Temple Church, London, on 16 January 2026. Spanning nine centuries of music, the programme moves from medieval plainchant and O Antiphons through Renaissance polyphony to beloved modern carols and seasonal pop, including world premiere recordings of newly commissioned arrangements. Throughout the concert, the singers perform from several different areas of the church, creating varied acoustic effects. Contributions from both longstanding collaborators and the singers themselves reflect the group's ongoing commitment to expanding the choral repertoire.

Even at a young age, Bernhard Romberg and his cousin Andreas, ten months his senior, caused a sensation - as a violinist and cellist nonpareil respectively. They conquered Paris's Concerts spirituels, performed with Ludwig van Beethoven in the Bonn Court Orchestra starting in 1790 and remained virtually inseparable, though this did not prevent them from pursuing their own separate careers. After holding various posts, Andreas spent the final years of his life (until 1821) as a member of the Gotha court orchestra. His cousin rose to prominence becoming a virtuoso hailed as the Paganini of his instrument. It is only natural that the cello plays a central role in his compositions (he wrote a dozen solo concertos alone), but the instrument is also reflected favourably in his numerous chamber music works. Romberg was certainly not content to restrict himself to providing simple bass accompaniment for a demanding upper voice, but ensured that he and his circle of colleagues were given roles of equal importance. The result is a series of compositions that are as musically beautiful as they are structurally intriguing, some of which have a symphonic character - and which serve as wonderful complementary additions to the work of the "avant-gardist" Beethoven, with whom Romberg shared a long-standing friendship.

A BBC New Generation Artist in 2022-24, violinist Geneva Lewis is also the recipient of a 2021 Avery Fisher Career Grant, a 2022 Borletti-Buitoni Trust Award, and has been Musical America's New Artist of the Month. For her recording debut on Delos, she revels in a high-flying all-American program, accompanied by Gemma New conducting the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. Starting with Samuel Barber's neo-Romantic violin Concerto - the notorious finale provides hardly any respite to the soloist - it is followed by the first recording of John Zorn's Partita for the Firebird, a solo violin work in which 'every note burns and demands your entire self' (Geneva's own words), and Philip Glass's Violin Concerto No. 1. Written to please his father, the work is less symphonic than operatic, befitting a composer then in the full flight of operatic composition. Recipient of the prestigious 2021 Sir Georg Solti Conducting Award, Gemma New conducts the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra in both concertos.

Today Street Scene is Kurt Weill's most frequently revived American stage work. A polystylistic blending of operatic arias and ensembles, musical comedy songs and dances, dramatic dialogue both unaccompanied and underscored, and extraordinary emotional drama, Street Scene is arguably Weill's breakthrough. Though Elmer Rice's play was set in the 1920s, the popular music references are pure 1940s style (Glenn Miller, Rodgers and Hammerstein). After the successful release of "Love Life" (Capriccio C5550) this recording fills up the meanwhile large Kurt-Weill-Catalogue of Capriccio, again with a powerful cast from Opera North.

Giuseppe Cambini, born in Italy in 1746 and based for most of his life in Paris, left so much fine music - over 600 compositions - that it is surprising that the year and place of his death remain uncertain. Among that huge output are over 100 string quintets using a second cello rather than another viola, giving them an unusually rich sonority. Cambini's elegant melodic manner and his spontaneous counterpoint help explain why his chamber music was so popular during his lifetime - but not why it has been forgotten since then: it's refreshingly natural style has something of Mozart's tunefulness and Haydn's bright craftsmanship, and it's more thoughtful moments occasionally look ahead to Beethoven.

Evelyn Converse (Connie's mother): Is it sweet little ditties or is it modernistic? Connie Converse: It's got everything in it. I'm the one in the smoky gray button-down, gently disentombing a viola from it's case in the gauzy, late morning light illuminating this inviting Northcenter studio. In the freelance Classical (and Classical-adjacent) world, projects and their attendant rehearsals encompass the vibes and caliber spectrum, but managing the contents of one's tear ducts is not generally a required qualification. Maybe you can try to get word to the violist, currently encamping himself and his stand beneath a towering harp. That unwitting sap-the one who at this moment only knows that the pieces he's playing were originally penned by someone with an enticingly alliterative moniker-has no idea that this music is about to occupy a good deal of the rent-free space available in his head and heart long after the live broadcast, the 'gig,' wraps. It is, I'm afraid, a decidedly common reaction to an oeuvre of unquestionably uncommon music for those that encounter it some seventy-plus years since it was meticulously penned. Whether this is your first orbit or you already count yourself amongst the members of the How Sad, How Lovely devout-Connie's modest and also astonishing kitchen table recordings, most recently reissued by her fellow Michiganders Third Man Records-the sounds currently spinning through your synapses here offer an entirely unique perspective of an artist who not only scooped Dylan on coaxing folk music from the universal to the personal by a literal decade, but indeed ventured into a territory of art song he will never quite access. Her Only Light is a more dimensional, more expansive view of Connie Converse, a composer-performer-pacifist-scholar-activist who, like the story of her enigmatic departure, deserves a telling beyond an easy headline. Some orientation is necessary, though. Elizabeth Eaton Converse was valedictorian of her high school, a scholarship recipient at Mount Holyoke College, a songwriting hopeful in Harlem, and the Co-Editor of the Journal of Conflict Resolution (Center for Research on Conflict Resolution) at the University of Michigan. Was she, as is editorialized about so many of my favorite creators, maybe a little too smart to be happy? A more accurate assessment arrives by way of her nephew Tim Converse, who generously shared with me, 'I think that she saw so clearly the way things should be that she was constantly disappointed by how things actually were.' This was certainly the case regarding her years in New York, having absconded early from Mount Holyoke to pursue her songwriting and singing aspirations. Consider that the 1950's Greenwich Village folk revival-in full swing as she composed-for all it's posturing about political revolution and working-class authenticity, was structurally about as progressive as a debutante ball. Add to that the fact the (then) recording industry's almost unshakable insistence on genre conformity and, in the case of female performers, sexual magnetism, and it doesn't take much to understand how a path-carving artist more engrossed in her compositional brilliance than her appearance failed to break through to the monoculture. Though history is of course littered with unrecognized genius, this was actually not precisely the case for Converse. She was featured on CBS's The Morning Show hosted by no less than Walter Cronkite, and was championed by animator Gene Dietch who, in addition to her own efforts, we have to thank for the recordings found on How Sad, How Lovely. At this inflection point, when she seemed poised to, well, make it, Connie Converse pivoted her writing toward a far less marketable but perhaps more adventurous corner of musicmaking: 'art song.' If Connie's 'Guitar Songs' (singer-songwriter, folk-oriented) were slow to gain traction, what hopes could her 'Piano Songs' (art song, harmonically enterprising) possibly have in such an inhospitable industry? Jesus. We're halfway through these liner notes and I haven't even introduced you to the two remarkable interpreters of said songs-the thoughtful Converse evangelists behind Her Only Light: arranger Ronnie Kuller and vocalist Emmy Bean. Almost immediately in that aforementioned rehearsal, which I should clarify was in service of a live performance on WFMT after this album was mixed and mastered, I was scheming how I might stay in proximity to Ronnie's dextrous, insightful writing and Emmy's lustrous, utterly persuasive phrasing in the years to come. Like so many generative collaborations, theirs originated in an abiding desire for connection and a fascination with the sublime. It was also a creative lifeboat in the not-so-distant era of prolonged home confinement. Sparked by Bean's sharing the 2015 Anna and Elizabeth cover of 'Father Neptune'-the harmonizing of which would provide inspiration for the arrangement here-with Kuller (who had already taken Converse's music up on stage while in residence at beloved Chicago venue The Hideout) the latter describes her decision-making process with unguarded enthusiasm: 'I want a harp. I want two clarinets at the same time. I want a string section! I want Emmy Bean to sing to me!' Ronnie goes on to share what I consider an essential reason why Her Only Light is so riveting and unmissable: 'When Emmy is singing, I believe every word.' Given that Connie is often credited with originating the singer-songwriter genre, one in which vulnerability evaporates any dramatic or emotional partition between singer and lyric, Converse's songs can only truly thrive when delivered with such tender veracity. As the duo explored Converse's art songs, transcribed by Kuller from the hand-written original scores, the desire for immersion in and dispersion of these songs only deepened. Emmy describes her 'forever memory' like this: 'Once we got started on the art songs we began with 'Song for Old Wars,' and I remember singing it for the first time in a big cavernous room on an old piano. This was a few weeks after Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022. Hearing the final cadence of that song echo in the room-the "horns"-was incredible. It gave me something to honor in all the chaos of new/old wars; I felt like Connie was with us, grieving the losses.' The other partition in need of a wrecking ball-one of primary importance to both singer and arranger-was that of folk song vs. Art song. Not only is this boundary a fanciful one perpetrated by hierarchically-minded (i.e. misled or confused) listeners and record industry execs originating from preconceptions about formal education, 'rigor,' and, to get right down to it, vibratoin the context of Connie Converse it results from the reality that her art songs, the 'Piano Songs,' never made it on tape during her own and Dietch's kitchen recording sessions. They were written later, and composed for voices other than her own, sometimes soprano, sometimes baritone. Emmy found herself slipping into Connie's world without friction, but decisions on how to stylistically inhabit the 'Guitar' and 'Piano' songs only revealed itself once the project was at full tilt: 'I was surprised to find how Connie's songs invite another singer into them. Some songs belong so intimately to their writer's voice (especially folk singers or singer-songwriters) that it feels wrong to sing them or hear them sung by others. When I took on this project, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to find the access point, that I wouldn't be able to inhabit them, that I would find myself mimicking her or struggling to find myself in them. But the craft that Connie put into her art songs-the 'Cassandra Cycle,' 'anyone lived in a pretty how town,' etc-is also there in the songs she wrote on guitar. They are no less solid, no less fully realized than the ones she wrote on piano. They completely stand on their own, and they welcome any singer with the imagination and humility to hear them and be with them. The reward of singing them is to be inside of Connie's mind for a moment, to feel such great joy and such deep empathy, and to be able to smile at things that are so, so sad. I was also struggling to figure out how Connie's guitar songs and piano songs would exist together on the same record, in the same voice (mine). It wasn't until we got into the studio that Ronnie and I figured out that I could be the same singer throughout; there was no need to over-stylize the art songs or under-sing the folk songs. Together we were able to find an approach that honored the depth of her writing in both contexts, and that kind of broke the spell of genre over the whole thing.' As you traverse these Guitar Songs- 'Talkin Like You (Two Tall Mountains)' 'I Have Considered the Lillies' 'Father Neptune' 'One by One' and these Piano Songs- 'Vanity of the Vanities' 'The Rainmaker' 'Incommunicado' 'anyone lived in a pretty how town' (text by e.e. cummings) 'The Age of Noon' The Cassandra Cycle (excerpted) 'Cassandra's Entrance' 'Song for Old Wars' 'She Thinks of Heaven' 'She Devises a Lullaby' -relish as I do, if you will, Ronnie Kuller's orchestrational witticisms and delights, as with her leitmotif approach to 'Talkin Like You (Two Tall Mountains),' here and elsewhere gracious without unnecessary reverence or over-caution. Be carried off by Emmy Bean's sumptuous and entrancing delivery of 'Father Neptune,' but don't miss the cheeky wink in her voice as she alights on the song's more eyebrow-raising lines ('And it's still his creed that he has no need of a wifeexcept on shore'). Perhaps you're familiar with the melancholy pervasive in Converse's tunes, but her humor is equally nimble. And of course, don't disembark before you experience 'One by One,' the song currently making the hapless gigger unprofessionally bleary-eyed in the middle of a rehearsal. Loneliness has found it's most crystalline, most desolate voice in these verses, and to these ears at least, it is a one-of-one. That quote at the top of the page? It arrives by way of a recorded conversation between Connie and her mother concerning an in-processopera! This heroine of songwriting contained multitudes-a conclusion you are funneling toward as you make your way through this enchanting tracklist-and with Her Only Light, we are finally provided Connie Converse in full, resplendent resolution. -Doyle Armbrust

The present release is part of a short series of recordings sitting on the shelves of the Nimbus archive that were 'rediscovered' during the 2020 COVID shutdowns. In those quiet days idle hands and minds posed the question: 'So, do we have anything unissued that we can use to construct a release programme?' This casual enquiry initiated a full investigation that has continued for five years and revealed more than fifty recording projects that, for one reason or another, never made it into the world. Shura Cherkassky was introduced to Nimbus by Wilfred Stiff, then a director of the London agent Ibbs & Tillett. Wilfred recognised a young label pushing ahead fast at the transition point between LP and CD, one with a fondness for artists whose careers were waning. Accordingly, he dispatched one of his most prestigious names to the Nimbus Studio. Cherkassky was at that time acknowledged as one of the 'great' generation whose undoubted king was Horowitz, but after a long, notable career that began in his mid-teens, his popularity in the concert hall and recording studio had fallen. Shura's late career was in need of a final boost. © Adrian Farmer

Caspar Diethelm (1926-97) was one of the leading Swiss composers of the twentieth century. His free-tonal style - angular yet accessible - drew on the inheritance of several of his predecessors, above all Hindemith, Honegger (both of whom were his teachers), Martin and Schoeck, with Bartok adding rhythmic spice. These influences he combined with an awareness of modernism to form an individual and expressive musical language of his own. The three concertos recorded here are remarkable for the striking clarity of their orchestral textures; they also exhibit Diethelm's fondness for enlivening his narratives with surges of energy and touches of gleeful humour.