Also available on Blu-ray

“The Tutto Verdi series, in its goal of being complete, makes it possible to not only hear but see performances of works one seldom encounters outside of Parma...One does not have to be a Verdi completist like me to find a lot to enjoy in Tutto Verdi. The rarities are worth knowing to expand your sense of the composer’s output. The seven operas with Nucci are fascinating on so many levels, not the least of which is that his younger colleagues respond to his work not by being in awe but by allowing themselves to dig deeper and bring their performances to a higher plain than they imagined they were capable of. What would Peppino say?” – Fred Plotkin, WQXR

---------

Giuseppe Verdi
TUTTO VERDI – The Operas, Vol. 3 (1855–1893)
(11-DVD Box Disc Set)

I Vespri Siciliani (Teatro Regio di Parma, 2010)
Simon Boccanegra (Teatro Regio di Parma, 2010)
Un Ballo in Maschera (Teatro Regio di Parma, 2011)
La Forza del Destino (Teatro Regio di Parma, 2011)
Don Carlo (Teatro Comunale di Modena, 2012)
Aida (Teatro Regio di Parma, 2012)
Otello (Salzburg Festival, 2008)
Falstaff (Teatro Regio di Parma, 2011)

Bonus:
- Introduction to each opera

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: Italian, English, German, French, Spanish, Chinese, Korean, Japanese
Running time: 20 hours 41 mins (operas) + 1 hour 27 mins (bonus)
No. of DVDs: 11 (DVD 9)

The iconic music of Thelonious Monk has inspired generations of instrumentalists and vocalists. The composer's singular style offers challenges ideal for interpretation. Organist Gregory Lewis has long been a Monk acolyte and specialist who is always in search of a new way to frame Monk's work. On Organ Monk Sings, Lewis joins forces with vocalist, lyricist, producer, and artistic director Raina Welch (professionally known as Ms. Raina) for a dramatic and original program of Monk compositions. Gregory Lewis is recognized as a Monk scholar and is best known for presenting Monk's repertoire on the Hammond organ. Seeking new ways to highlight Monk's music, Lewis began exploring the integration of voice into his long-running Organ Monk project. A longtime fan of vocalists who had tackled Monk's music, including Carmen McRae and Abbey Lincoln, he sought a collaborator who could bring something distinctive and fresh to the tradition. Lewis and Welch connected through New York's vibrant music circuit, and their musical chemistry developed naturally through performance, conversation, and a shared commitment to the Black American musical lineage. A classically trained vocalist, Ms. Raina studied at Long Island University Brooklyn and Temple University, refining her technique under the mentorship of soprano Alba Quezada Bloomgarden and mezzo-soprano Dr. Lorie Gratis, with advanced mentorship from soprano Christine Moore Vassallo and Grammy-nominated vocalist Carla Cook. In her crossover journey, Cook's influence grounded Ms. Raina's phrasing, rhythmic placement, and storytelling in the lineage of vocal innovators such as Carmen McRae, Abbey Lincoln, Leon Thomas, and Eddie Jefferson, preparing her for the interpretive and technical demands of Monk's work. Over time, Ms. Raina's engagement with Monk's repertoire deepened through Lewis's perspective as an organist and her own study of the Monk vocal tradition shaped by McRae, Lincoln, Thomas, and Jon Hendricks. The two artists discovered a shared creative vision to reimagine Monk's body of work through the voice, not as novelty but as narrative. Ms. Raina led the project's artistic direction, curating repertoire, shaping the dramatic arc, and co-producing the sessions alongside Lewis. Drawing from her classical discipline, she conceived Organ Monk Sings as a sonic play, a narrative suite exploring love, loss, and revelation through Monk's compositions. Her original lyrics for "Let's Cool One" extend Monk's vocal lineage through a modern lens, merging his compositional wit with personal narrative and emotional depth. The project unfolds in four acts, mirroring the structure of a stage work with overture, scenes, interludes, and grand finale. The track sequence itself tells a story that moves from romantic infatuation to heartbreak, introspection, and renewal. A performance at Arthur's Tavern in New York's Greenwich Village at the end of 2024 proved pivotal, featuring saxophonist Jerry Weldon and drummer Nasheet Waits. Their sensitivity and attention to detail made for an ideal performance, making them the natural choice for the recording sessions held in June 2025 at Tedesco Studios in Paramus, New Jersey. Organ Monk Sings features Gregory Lewis on Hammond B2, Jerry Weldon on tenor saxophone, Nasheet Waits on drums, and Ms. Raina on vocals. The program spans eighteen Monk compositions and runs approximately sixty-two minutes, moving fluidly between solo organ, duos, trios, and full quartet settings. Ms. Raina selected the repertoire, including several pieces Lewis had never previously recorded. She crafted a cohesive dramatic sequence, incorporating instrumental tracks as overtures and interludes. Heard as a whole, the program unfolds like a tragic love story, beginning with infatuation, moving through turmoil, and ending in quiet reflection.

Reiner's claims as a Mahler interpreter are rarely appreciated as they should be. His account of the Fourth Symphony— strikingly different from the conventional view in some ways—has always struck me as among the most convincing, and here he directs a superbly clean-edged account of what is for the interpreter the most problematic of Mahler's works.

Like Walter and Klemperer, Reiner was a Mahler pupil and disciple. Thanks to the violent contrasts between Walter and Klemperer we have now readily accepted that there is no one true way with Mahler, and Reiner provides a third 'authentic' way, equally distinct. Those used to the more affectionate treatment of Walter, or for that matter Bernstein, will initially find Reiner's straighter style disconcerting. Deliberately the tone of voice is cooler, but that brings many benefits. One could argue that the Chinese poems of their nature demand a certain detachment. What is more Reiner's comparative coolness allows him to observe Mahler's markings much more meticulously than Walter. The obvious and most striking example comes at the climactic point of the final "Abschied", where Mahler, knowing the fondness of performers to reserve a fruity fortissimo for the big tune at the end, puts "ppp!" (the exclamation mark is Mahler's) over the great passage "Die liebe Erde". Walter and Ferrier ignore it completely and carry one, heart-throbbing, eyes-welling, to the end—a marvellous moment in recording history. But Reiner with exquisite tenderness, persuades Maureen Forrester to attack her high Fs and Gs with a genuine half-tone. The whispered murmurs of "Ewig" at the end have no premonition of death about them as they have with Ferrier: the end brings instead the feeling of sinking back on the eternal feather-bed of ecstasy, and that, I assume, is closer to what the Chinese poet and Mahler intended.

Though precision is his keynote, and phrasing is never mannered, Reiner does secure very beautiful pointing from his Chicago players, whether in the yearning phrases of the slow songs or the chattering opening of "Von der Jugend" which is more beautifully 'sprung' than I ever remember before. In the fifth song, "Der Trunkene im Frithling", too, the sharp brightness of the opening gives way to the drowsiness of "Ein Vogel singt im Baum" with superb control of mood—matched by very understanding singing from Richard Lewis; a lovely moment achieved here more effectively even than in the Walter.

My direct comparisons tended to a surprising degree to favour the new Reiner against the Walter, but returning to a complete performance of the Reiner I saw more clearly what reservations will almost certainly strike Mahlerians. However free Walter is with some of the markings, his performance gets inside the music, wrings one's emotions, makes one feel the performance, recorded or not, as a great occasion. I shall not say that Reiner's is not a great performance, but in the last resort one remains detached to a degree that I do not experience with any of the other three versions in their different ways—Klemperer and Bernstein as well as Walter. As I say, there is a clear argument for suggesting that that is apt for the work. At one point I felt tempted to place this version, with its remarkably good stereo and bargain price, ahead of all three of its rivals, but the chances of disappointment are too high. The sound is a little harder than in the very latest recordings from Chicago, but unless the last degree of high fidelity is essential, it will be very acceptable—better than some recent issues. The clarity of texture and vividness of atmosphere are most impressive, and both the voices are very well caught. Maureen Forrester has rarely if ever sung more expressively on record, and though Richard Lewis's tone is not always as sweet as one would like, his musical precision and imagination are always most satisfying. Neither singer is immaculate in German, but one has rather less to put up with on that score than with, say, Ferrier, who for all her glorious projection of feeling was not always comfortable with the words. Another marvellous addition to the Reiner discography: I hope the RCA Victrola label will be providing still more.

-- Gramophone [10/1969]

With music by Leonard Bernstein and book and lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green, On The Town enjoyed a successful Broadway run during the 1940s. The London production opened at the Prince of Wales Theatre in 1963 and starred Elliott Gould along with Don McKay, Carol Arthur, Andrea Jaffeand Gillian Lewis. The Original London Cast Recording of On the Town has never before been available in the U.S.

---------

Starring in the London production was Elliott Gould, not long after he closed on Broadway in I Can Get It for You Wholesale – his big break as a musical leading man, which was an even bigger break for his wife-to-be Barbra Streisand. Gould played the happy-go-lucky Ozzie (a role created by Adolph Green). As Gaby, the lovestruck hero, the London production featured Don McKay, a Broadway singer/dancer with an attractive, boyish voice who had been the first Tony in the hit West End staging of West Side Story. The trio of sailors on leave was completed by another American, Franklin Kiser, as the nai?ve but determined Chip. A favorite in West End musicals like Salad Days, Gillian Lewis played Claire de Lune (Betty Comden in the original production), and American Carol Arthur was Hildy, the raucous cab driver unforget- tably created by Nancy Walker. American audiences know Arthur as a comedic actress (Blazing Saddles) and as the wife of comedian Dom DeLuise, but on this recording she belts out Hildy’s show-stopping, double-entendre-laced “I Can Cook, Too” with joyous abandon.

The London recording preserved much of Bernstein’s dance music, though some arrangements were updated and smoothed out – “I Can Cook, Too,” for instance, loses its fractured-big-band musical setting. Best of all, the London recording lets us hear this spectacular score with the charm of a cast that was performing the show onstage at the same time. With its Coplandesque ballet music and hyperkinetic invention, the score, oddly enough, may the most challenging aspect of On the Town. The London recording reminds us it is a challenge full of rewards – a heartfelt masterpiece, hilarious and zany, with romantic longing and unbridled hope lurking just beneath the gleaming surface. Maybe its time has come?

-- From the liner notes by David Foil

CAST
Ozzie – Elliott Gould
Chip – Franklin Kiser
Gabey – Don McKay
Hildy – Carol Arthur
Claire – Gillian Lewis
Diana Dream – Meg Walter
Workman – Howarth Nuttall
Policeman – Lewis Henry

MUSICAL NUMBERS:
1. Opening: 10:55
I Feel Like I’m Not Out of Bed Yet – Workman
New York, New York – Chip, Gabey, Ozzie and Chorus
Miss Subways – Policeman, Workman, Chip, Gabey, Ozzie and Chorus
2. Taxi Number: Come Up to My Place 2:15 – Hildy and Chip
3. Carried Away 3:15 – Claire and Ozzie
4. Lonely Town 5:07 – Gabey
5. I Can Cook Too 2:49 – Hildy
6. Lucky to Be Me 2:44 – Gabey
7. Dance: Times Square (Finale Act I) 5:14
8. Night Club Sequence: 4:59
So Long Baby – Chorus
I Wish I Was Dead – Diana Dream
You Got Me – Hildy, Ozzie, Claire, Chip, Gabey
9. Dance: Imaginary Coney Island 8:11
10. Some Other Time 3:48 – Claire, Hildy, Ozzie, Chip
11. Real Coney Island, Finale 4:01

Track Listing
1. Hey, Pretty Baby
2. Seventh Avenue Express
3. Walking Slow Behind You
4. Mister Roberts' Roost
5. Don't You Want a Man Like Me
6. South
7. You Call Yourself a Jungle King (I Found Out You Ain't a Doggone Thing)
8. Sophisticated Swing
9. House Rent Boogie
10. Basie's Basement
11. Brand New Wagon

Personnel includes: Count Basie (piano); Jimmy Rushing (vocals); Preston Love, Rudy Rutherford, C.Q. Price, Earl Warren (alto saxophone); Paul Gonsalves, Buddy Tate (tenor saxophone); Jack Washington (baritone saxophone); Ed Lewis, Snooky Young, Harry "Sweets" Edison, Clark Terry, Jimmy Nottingham, Gerald Wilson (trumpet); Bill Johnson, Ted Donnelly, George Matthews, Eli Robinson, George Washington (trombone); Freddie Green (guitar); Walter Page (bass); Jo Jones, Butch Ballard (drums).

Recorded between January 3 and December 12, 1947.

But for the fact that it only has 11 tracks, this mid-priced compilation (not to be confused with the identically titled Bluebird collection covering Basie's early-'30s recordings with the Bennie Moten band) could easily get the highest rating. And this could be the place to start for any rock fans wondering what Basie was about, at least some of the time. This disc shows Basie and company (especially singer Jimmy Rushing) working in an R&B mode, doing such songs as Willie Dixon's "You Call Yourself the Jungle King (I Found Out You Ain't a Doggone Thing)," "Hey, Pretty Baby," "Brand New Wagon," and "Walking Slow Behind You." Rushing and the band sound like they're pushing toward Chess Records' turf. And the astonishing thing is that they pull it off -- if these records had sold in any serious number, Basie and Rushing might have had a whole second career in R&B, right up there with Big Joe Turner. There's a minimum of annotation, and not all of the sound is quite perfect -- amazingly, the 1991 remastered "Basie's Basement" featured here has a click or two in evidence, for which there's no excuse. But the sound quality everywhere else is pretty much beyond reproach, and there's also one number here, "Mister Roberts' Roost," a laidback instrumental prominently featuring Basie's piano, that's otherwise unavailable.

Its style falls a good distance from the historical niceties of our modern era’s historically informed performance standards, but yet it still lands squarely in the most enjoyable listen category. Sir Colin Davis is near the beginning of his brilliant career to come when this Glyndebourne Festival live 1960 production of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte was staged. He leads a cast including Richard Lewis, Pilar Lorengar, Heather Harper, Geraint Evans and Hungarian bass Mihaly Szekely as Sarastro, whose formidable presence on opera house stages had been overwhelming audiences since the 1920s.

...I think Ormandy sees [Das Lied von der Erde] very much in symphonic terms. It's a view often put forward by scholars casting the first and second songs as first and second movements, songs three, four and five running together as a kind of scherzo-intermezzo third movement (fourth song as quasi trio to the other two movements' scherzo), and the sixth song as fourth movement/finale. The reason I see this in Ormandy's account is that he seems to see the third, fourth and fifth songs in very much the same way, the same tone, with very little variation in approach from song to song though he stressed well the chinoiserie that is a feature of Mahler's orchestration. Then there is the fact that less than usual of the work’s darker undertones are brought out by him. There are some lovely woodwinds at the start of "Von der Jugend", though, matched with Richard Lewis's lighter delivery paying greater dividends here than elsewhere. However, Lewis is always much more the witness than the participant, especially in comparison with others, and even more detached from the words in "Der Trunkene im Fruhling". This work must involve the listener at all times and there are passages in this recording when I am not. Though let it be said there is a fine "stepping inside" of the scene by Lewis at "Ja! Der Lenz ist da" (Yes! Spring is here") and he also manages a laugh when describing the bird's laughter. Lewis has limited attack in the first song, though. He is more mellow and lyrical than colleagues like Peter Schreier for Sanderling (Berlin Classics 009 4022BC) but Ormandy matches him in being more lighter-toned than Klemperer, Sanderling or Horenstein (BBC Legends BBCL 4042-2). He is more concerned with the singing line and communicating energy and lift, which is certainly no bad thing in itself. There is less contrast between the varying sections of the song too. The passage starting with "Das firmament blaut ewig" is delivered by Lewis with none of the irony it is capable of and in the "ape and graves" section he is a little overwhelmed by the orchestra, well though he sings. Here Wunderlich for Klemperer (EMI 5 66892 2) manages to ride the climax admirably. Not surprisingly Lewis doesn't have Schreier's distinctive delivery on each "dark is life; dark is death" refrain" for Sanderling. The playing of the orchestra is superb, however, giving notice from the start we are in the presence of one of the world's great ensembles.

Ormandy opens the second song with admirable restraint and icy-coldness. This is late autumn with no heat at all. Lili Chookasian has a light voice and her first entrance doesn't bode too well for what is to come. All this brings some dividends when the orchestra shows a wonderful burst of warmth, especially from the lower strings at "Bald werden die verwelkten" ("Soon the withered golden leaves"). In fact, the Philadelphia strings are (and it should be no surprise) one of the glories of this recording and show Chookasian up rather. If only she could sing as well as they do! At "Ich weine viel in meinem Einsamkeiten" ("Long do I weep in my loneliness") hear also the solo horn against the oboe picked out by Ormandy and then "Sonne der Liebe willst du nie mehr scheinen" (Sun of love will you never shine again), where, as with Lewis in the "ape and graves" section of the first song, Chookasian is rather overwhelmed by the power of the orchestra. In "Von Der Schoenheit" she struggles to make the words tell, not least in the horse section which Ormandy takes very fast making her hang on for dear life. Then in the opening of "Der Abschied" there is some lack of tragic weight. But this is in common with what appears to be the philosophy behind Ormandy's performance. Again and again the stress is on refinement, fastidiousness, polish and no praise can be too high for the orchestra who bring really cultured playing to everything. Again Chookasian seems more than a touch under-involved. With Lewis detachment could be looked on as a positive stance but with Chookasian I feel it's simply that she isn't quite up to the peculiar demands of this piece. This is never more so than in the challenge of the last song where her rather peripheral feeling for the words tells most of all. But Ormandy's polish is in evidence throughout and a good example is his accompaniment of "Die Blumen blassen im Dammerschien" ("The flowers grow pale in the twilight"). He is very controlled too, helped by a slightly faster tempo than we are used to so that crucial line "Alle sehnsucht will nun traumen" doesn't move us as it should. He also skates too discursively over the wonderful bird section. This is a real example of his refinement robbing the music of one of its most distinctive moments: more "Ma Mere l'oye" than "Le Chant de la terre". Although that expressionist, "Pierrot Lunaire-like" section beginning "Es wehet kuhl" with flute and string bass underpinning has a fine sense of stillness it has less depth than it needs so that when the music warms up there is less feeling of respite. In the funeral march orchestral passage there is some extraordinary music where Mahler pushes the boundaries of tonality to the limit, but Ormandy rather throws it away in pursuit of smooth edges. The overall tempo is also too quick to make the effect it has to, though there is some wonderful playing from the cellos at the climax, really digging into their phrases. This is more than Chookasian does in the closing section, I feel. Her attention to the words is not really close and her tone rather one-dimensional; not expressive enough for music that expresses so much and Ormandy rather forces her on.

In sum a beautiful performance of Mahler’s late masterpiece, especially from the point of view of conductor and the orchestra. But there is more to this work than what lies on the surface and Ormandy's apparent stress on those symphonic aspects seems to encourage him in his refinement of everything else. Lewis's detachment at least seems to have point. Chookasian, on the other hand, one suspects is witness because she doesn't know how to get more involved or whether she should. On balance I think the same applies to Ormandy who doesn't really impress as a Mahlerian in this most elusive of works. He is saved by his wonderful orchestra who, in spite of some slightly faster tempi than we are used to, make this a performance to be enjoyed, for all I may not regard it as a front runner.

A coupling for Das Lied is rare but here is a very substantial one in the shape of the five Rückert Songs in a performance that finds Frederica Von Stade at the height of her considerable powers and Andrew Davis as ever an excellent accompanist. This is not a reason to buy this release, but certainly one to make up for any shortcomings in the main work.

Ormandy and his great orchestra are the real stars of this fine release.

-- Tony Duggan, MusicWeb International

Sir Malcolm Sargent was regarded as Britain's 'ambassador of music' and made many overseas tours as both principal and guest conductor of leading British orchestras and choirs. His energetic and efficient work to popularize classical music made him a household name. Sargent was a skilled conversationalist, and a popular member of Radio's wartime informational programme 'The Brains Trust'. He was knighted in 1947. On the present release, he is heard at the helm of the BBC Symphony Orchestra and a cast of stellar soloists as they perform Berlioz's The Damnation of Faust, and Dvorak's Te Deum. The Berlioz performance is a BBC Broadcast which was made live from the Royal Festival Hall on February 25, 1953, and the Dvorak is a BBC Broadcast which was made live from the Royal Festival Hall on May 26, 1954.

What a great disc this is: three delightful contemporary works for harpsichord and orchestra, easy on the ear, but clever and consistently interesting. John Rutter’s Suite Antique might be English Poulenc. The tunes are captivating, and the “antique” element needs to be taken with a large grain of salt (the “waltz” is subtitled “A Jazz Waltz”). The writing for flute and strings is immaculate, graceful, and sounds like great fun to play, while the keyboard solo takes excellent advantage of the instrument’s sparkling timbres and ability to delineate rhythmic patterns with gentle persistence. The performance is also terrific, as fine as the composer’s own, with John McMurtery an excellent flute soloist with a firm, round tone.

Glass’ Harpsichord Concerto also has plenty of arresting harmonies and a wide range of textures. The outer movements chug along with unquenchable vitality, and even touches of humor in the finale, while the central slowish movement makes imaginative play with a variety of melodic shapes. It’s extremely visual: you can almost see the music as it unfolds. Glass takes full advantage of the harpsichord’s natural ability to act both as soloist and accompaniment, with the result that the music’s shifting layers consistently entertain through, and not despite, the usual abundance of repetition.

As for the Françaix, the Concerto begins with two contrasting toccatas, followed by a songful andantino, minuet, and finale. It’s a zesty romp that brings the disc to a wholly winning close. Christopher D. Lewis plays a bright, sweet-toned harpsichord with minimal mechanical clatter. His digital dexterity proves very satisfying, and he’s excellently balanced against the extremely capable West Side Chamber Orchestra under Kevin Mallon. This is one of those discs that you might overlook, but you’d be missing a real treat. I’ve already played it several times just for pleasure, and so will you.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

William Vincent Wallace may not be a household name to today’s music-lovers but from 1845 until the end of the 19th century he was very popular as an operatic composer. He is not completely forgotten, however, and I knew at least an excerpt from his first opera, Maritana, from a Joan Sutherland record. On Marco Polo there is also a complete recording of the opera. Excerpts from Maritana coupled with music from a couple of other roughly contemporaneous British operas are available on EMI and on the Australian label Melba Deborah Riedel sings several Wallace arias plus others by Balfe, Faraday and Sullivan. Ms Riedel was scheduled to sing the role of Ghiva on the present recording of Lurline but died before the project could be carried through. The recording is dedicated to her memory.

The libretto is based on the legend of Lorelei, the 132 metre high rock on the eastern bank of the Rhine. In Heine’s poem Die Lore-Ley a kind of siren sings from the outcrop and distracts shipmen so that they crash into the rock. In this opera she falls in love with a human being, a young nobleman. When the River King hears this he knows that this will lead to her death. How the story ends I won’t reveal, which is a sneaky way of forcing readers to buy these two discs to find out.

And it is worth the moderate costs, since the music is wholly agreeable and the singing and playing, despite some blemishes, on a quite high level. The performing edition is by Richard Bonynge, who has done great things in dusting off long-forgotten operas and giving them a new lease of life. One can at once in the long overture hear that Wallace was a skilled orchestrator. The opening is an atmospheric description of a moonlit night on the Rhine, but the music becomes both lively and dramatic. When the imaginary curtain rises we are exposed once more to a serene and beautiful orchestral introduction, which is also woven into the recitative that follows and sung at the end before the aria.

So what does the music sound like? The easiest way of describing it is to see it as a forerunner of Sullivan. In a blindfold test I am sure many listeners would believe some of the melodies to be from one of the Savoy operas. Ingratiating and easy to hum they could comfortably command a place in any programme of light opera and operetta. What is missing is perhaps the tongue-in-cheek quality of some of Sullivan’s best creations and the glint in the eye. On the other hand the story doesn’t exactly cry out for such qualities. There are also several rousing choruses that remind me of G&S and the act finales are skilfully structured to rise to slap-up climaxes. In particular it is in the second act that Wallace’s inspiration flows at its richest. Take the opening chorus (CD 1 tr. 19) or the Sullivanesque Chorus From his Palace of Crystal (CD 1 tr. 22). Rupert’s aria Sweet form (CD 1 tr. 23) is lovely and somewhat later Ghiva’s song Gentle Troubadour (CD 2 tr. 2 is catchy. Rhineberg’s The nectar cup may yield delight in ¾ time (CD 2 tr. 5) is another hit. No wonder it was such a success in the 1860s.

Act III also has several highlights. Rupert’s ballad (CD 2 tr. 13) again recalls G&S and Lurline’s Grand Scena (CD 2 tr. 18) should be a dream number for any high soprano. The prayer, in particular, is noble and beautiful. The final scene opens with a riveting chorus (CD 2 tr. 22) followed by a long duet between Rupert and Lurline. In the ensemble that concludes the opera Lurline returns to her opening solo in act I but now heavily embellished.

Sally Silver in the title role has a bright lyrical voice, sailing effortlessly up in the highest reaches of the soprano register. She negotiates the coloratura passages with supreme ease. Hers is a most sensitive reading of a role that is both other-worldly and deeply human. Veteran Keith Lewis, best known perhaps as a stylish Mozart singer, makes the most of Rupert’s role, nuanced and sensitive, but today his beautiful voice is afflicted by a disfiguring wobble on sustained notes. This is, however, compensated for by his ravishing pianissimo singing. The end of his air (CD 1 tr. 23) is excellent proof of his ability. David Soar is a powerful and intense Rhineberg but slightly strained at times. Donald Maxwell, another veteran, is a splendid Baron Truenfels and even better is Roderick Earle as the Gnome. Try CD 1 tr. 27 for proof. Fiona Janes is a vibrant and expressive Ghiva. The orchestral and choral forces are splendid under Richard Bonynge’s experienced leadership.

There is a synopsis in the booklet but the libretto - including the original stage directions shown in the 1860 libretto - can be bought separately.

Victorian Opera Northwest, which ‘was formed to promote the excellent music found in the operas and operettas of forgotten 19th Century British and Irish composers has certainly lived up to their aim. Together with Naxos they have enriched the operatic CD-catalogue. Maybe not a dramatic masterpiece but all lovers of 19th century opera, and lovers of good melodies should hasten to add this set to their collections.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Syncopated music has been played across the United States since the early 20th century, but swing first appeared in New Orleans. The unique style of its jazz bands, becoming a veritable trademark, was a major stepping-stone in the artistic history of America. World War II was followed by a surge of freedom as well as the search of jazz in its original form and America rediscovered this gem embedded in its history. This was the period of the New Orleans Revival and its riches are revealed by Dan Vernhettes. This vast panorama, interpreted by the greatest artists, portrays the gumbo jazz of New Orleans: ragtime, blues, marches, dance music, lighter tunes and religious hymns.

Paul Lewis explores the world of late Brahms, wherein the old master, far from growing more sedate, deploys a palette of infinite colors and sensibilities in his last four collections for solo piano. By turns tender and dazzling, intimate and tempestuous, these pieces appear to us as their composer's final confidences, entrusted to a crepuscular diary.