This album contains a selection of key a cappella choral works by Erkki-Sven Tüür. For the Estonian composer born in 1959, words and music are intimately linked. The number of syllables in a word, the position of the tonic accent, and the word as a cultural phenomenon with a definite meaning are of essential importance. This can be heard in the Kyrie of his Missa Brevis (2013) where, like a spiral, the polyphony of the voices is transformed into a chordal texture at the beginning of the ‘Christe eleison’, and then dissolves into individual voices at the second ‘Kyrie eleison’.

Canticum Canticorum Caritatis (2020) is inspired by St Paul’s Letter to the Corinthians. Tüür dedicated this work to Endrik Üksvärav and Collegium Musicale, the performers on this album. The multidimensional Omnia Mutantur (2020) possesses an extremely clear structure, interweaving the famous thoughts of Ovid and Virgil about the transient nature of all things. Triglosson Trishagion (2008), indebted to the Orthodox tradition and sung in Estonian, Russian and Greek, and Wanderer’s Evening Song (2001) complete this program, which is characterized by a meditative, interiorized approach to the composer.

REVIEW:

Erkki-Sven Tüür is one of the most important Estonian composers of the 20th/21st century, and this album pays outstanding tribute to him with an insight into his work for a cappella choir.

The Collegium Musicale under Endrik Üksvärä succeeds again and again in disentangling the dense sound textures of Tüür’s music, transforming them into a floating sound of delicate intimacy, which now and then can also be very expressive and decisive – for example in the Credo of the Missa Brevis.

The album bears the title of the most recent work on this recording – Canticum canticorum caritatis from 2020 – in which the central concept of caritas is the musical and interpretive focus.

The last work on the recording – Rändaja õhtulaul/Wanderer’s Nightsong – is no less expressive, with recourse to Gregorian chant. Here, too, the Collegium Musicale hits the mood right on the nose time and again: the trembling dreams, the calls from eternity, wrapped in mystically suggestive interpretations.

-- Pizzicato

Although he already has a rich stage and recording career behind him, this is Tim Mead’s first solo album. ‘Juxtaposing the sacred and secular aspects of Vivaldi’s work, this program explores the earthly passion of the divine and the heavenly beauty of love’, says the English countertenor. ‘When they are placed side by side, his highly individual approach reveals that these two worlds are closely intertwined, in music at once astonishing and highly virtuosic.’ With his partners from Arcangelo, directed by Jonathan Cohen, we hear him in the famous Nisi Dominus and the no less celebrated cantata Cessate, omai, cessate, alongside the Salve Regina RV618 and Amor, hai vinto.

Temptation, prohibition, good, evil... ‘how relevant are these in today's world?’ asks Benjamin Appl. With the complicity of pianist James Baillieu, we are taken on a musical arc from simple folk songs through to the great song composers such as Schubert, Schumann and Wolf, along the way visiting the Impressionists Debussy and Poulenc, exploring ‘new objectivity’ with Weill and Eisler and enjoying compositions by Casucci, Heggie and others. The metaphor of forbidden fruit gives Benjamin and James a wide range of possible interpretations. Whilst some of the song settings centre on sensuality, others focus on socially immoral topics such as incest or sensitive subjects such as abortion. The German baritone embodies each of these stories with a passion and dramatic sense that makes this album a kaleidoscopic and astonishing journey through time and space.

Véronique Gens’s version of La Voix humaine has been eagerly awaited! This ‘lyric tragedy in one act’ might have been written for her, so ideally suited are her feeling for language and her dramatic intensity to Poulenc’s monologue on a text by Jean Cocteau, composed in 1958. This is a far cry from the ‘light’ Poulenc of the 1920s. Cocteau paid him the highest compliment: ‘Dear Francis, you have fixed, once and for all, the way to speak my text.’ Véronique Gens confesses that she had always wanted to perform and record this piece; now she has achieved her ambition, in close partnership with the Orchestre National de Lille under its music director Alexandre Bloch. Also featured on the album is the Sinfonietta: this is in fact a genuine symphony, but, as Nicolas Southon writes, ‘there is no denying that the work – commissioned by the BBC in 1947 – has a freshness and a freedom of tone that justify its title’.

REVIEW:

La voix humaine is a monodrama. Gens had long wished to sing and record the piece, and was asked to perform it many times. She waited till she was ready for such a demanding piece, a work she must carry for forty minutes of, at times, very intense solo singing. Poulenc’s favourite soprano Denise Duval performed it first. She almost co-composed the piece.

It is clear that Madame Gens has really thought through the work and what it requires. Her decision to wait to be certain before she was ready to tackle this piece would seem to have paid off handsomely. This is an outstanding interpretation, the right artist recording the right work at the right time. That top C is nailed alright, and at the few other moments of “real singing” her familiar sound and line are as eloquent as usual. But the rest, the ‘heightened talking’, is equally persuasive, realistic and moving. Of course, that realism is also distressing, as we eavesdrop on deep personal anguish. At one point, Elle confesses to a suicide attempt. Some listeners will surely find the work rather harrowing, not one for everyday listening. But if one of the duties of art is to portray life in all its grimness as well as all its glory, then La voix humaine should be heard.

-- MusicWeb International

Simon-Pierre Bestion writes: “I discovered Rachmaninoff’s ‘Vespers’ singing in a choir, and the work made a genuine emotional impact on me! This music gives off an impression of naturalness and ‘simplicity’, yet in fact its architecture is complex and innovative for its time in the quasi-orchestral treatment of the voices. I wanted to place the work in a liturgical context that I conceived by drawing my inspiration from the Orthodox ceremonies I have been lucky enough to attend in Russia and Romania. The special characteristic and the beauty of this Vigil service (which in the Orthodox churches includes both Vespers and Matins) is that it accompanies the prayers of the faithful from dusk until sunrise.”

Violinist Théotime Langlois de Swarte and harpsichordist Justin Taylor, two of the most promising virtuosos of the new generation and founder members of the ensemble Le Consort, now present a duo album that pays tribute to a great eighteenth-century dynasty of musicians, the violinists and composers of the Francoeur family. The sonatas of Louis Francoeur (c.1692-1745), known as Francoeur the Elder, and those of his brother François (1698-1787) are dance suites featuring polyphonic effects produced by the use of double stopping. Justin and Théotime bring these varied treasures back to life with the energy and grace for which they are already well known.

Schumann composed Kreisleriana in April 1838, at the age of 27, exactly the same age as Aaron Pilsan today : “The youthful thing that I can identify with in Kreisleriana is its spontaneity. If I had to describe the piece, I would use the German word for crazy, ‘verrückt’, which doesn’t just mean crazy, but also to be disconnected from reality. So, crazy, imaginative and intimate… There is a huge connection between these two German composers, as Jörg Widmann was inspired by Schumann’s music a lot and even his musical language is very similar, even though their styles are obviously very different. The starting point for Widmann’s music is from feelings, from the emotions and sentiments and that is where there is a similarity, but not only there. He even quotes Robert Schumann in his tenth Humoreske, taking a bar directly from Schumann’s Geistervariationen."

REVIEW:

Pilsan expresses the inner turmoil of the Kreisleriana with a keen sense of the enigmatism that is one of the secrets of Schumann’s art. He also finds the right approach in the Geistervariationen, interiorized, cantabile and supple. The melodic tenderness is never obscured by melancholy. It is in such a clear and restrained interpretation that the loss becomes clear, for this is, after all, Schumann’s last work before he was committed to a mental hospital.

Between the two Schumann works Aaron Pilsan has inserted Jörg Widmann’s Elf Humoresken, whose title refers to Robert Schumann. He succeeds very well in showing what the composer wanted: "May the interpreter discover in each of the pieces its very own tone and make it sound, sometimes mocking, then again dry, here melancholically clouded, but always with humor and subtlety."

-- Pizzicato

[Pilsan’s] artistry has evolved considerably. You have to turn to the most esteemed recordings of Kreisleriana, by Horowitz, Pollini, and Argerich, for example, to outstrip Pilsan’s performance. He seeks more balance and moderation at times than those pianists...he’s clearly to the manner born.

Reading the informative liner notes to this new release, which also includes a brief interview with Widmann conducted by Pilsan, you pick up some obvious reference points. Schumann wrote his own set of humoresques, and he freely used the expression marking mit Humor or mit guten Humor, which a postmodern composer like Widmann doesn’t take to be as simple as it looks. He takes full advantage of an emotional spectrum extended even farther than Schumann’s.

The mood is often freely tonal and Romantic, easily accessible if you appreciate contemporary eclecticism and Widmann in particular, as I very much do. Fragmentary references to Schumann abound, and in the final piece a bar of music from Schumann’s last work, the “Ghost” Variations, is directly quoted, serving as a link to Pilsan’s performance of the whole piece. The other major work on the program, Kreisleriana, was based on the fantastical Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler created by E. T. A. Hoffman. The fact that Schumann borrows the title of one of the three Kreisler novels (the last of which is narrated by his cat) implies that the music describes Kreisler’s peculiar temperament as much as Schumann’s – in the medieval sense, temperament is rooted in the four humors.

I haven’t heard other recordings of the Widmann, but Pilsan’s account seems nearly ideal in the way he merges Schumann into the contemporary texture of the music.

-- Fanfare

Following his acclaimed first recording for Alpha Classics, Saga, the German baritone Konstantin Krimmel continues to tell us stories, with a program focusing on Zauberoper or ‘magic opera’. Accompanied by the Hofkapelle München orchestra conducted by Rüdiger Lotter, Krimmel explores operas by Mozart, Salieri and Gluck, alongside less well-known titles by Paul Wranitzky and Peter von Winter: spectacular musical comedies from the eighteenth-century Viennese repertory, with their enchanted fairytale universe. Konstantin Krimmel, with German-Romanian roots, first got in touch with music at the St. George's Choir Boys in Ulm and from this moment on, the fascination of music never left him. At the age of 21, he began his vocal studies with Prof. Teru Yoshihara, which the singer completed with distinction in 2020. In the meantime he is being coached by Tobias Truniger in Munich.

After Franck, Debussy and Strauss, Mikko Franck and the Philharmonic Orchestra of Radio France here continue their collaboration with Alpha Classics, this time with the spotlight on Igor Stravinsky. The program begins with two pieces from his so-called ‘neo-classic’ period: his Capriccio and Octet. In the first, in which Stravinsky sets up a dialogue between piano and orchestra, the soloist is one of the great stars of the new generation, the French pianist Nathalia Milstein. Then the mood darkens, with the primitive rhythms and ferocious chordal attack of The Rite of Spring, a work that Mikko Franck has long since wanted to immortalize on album: a major masterpiece of the 20th century and an essential milestone for every orchestra. Every single player seems to be on fire in this recording, which puts the seal on seven years of collaboration and achievement with its Finnish Music Director.

Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683-1764) left two very different versions of his tragédie en musique Zoroastre: the first, in 1749, suffered from cabals and the work was withdrawn from the repertory. Rameau gave it a thoroughgoing revision in 1756. At this time, he was at the height of his powers. Melody, harmony, orchestration and choral writing no longer held any secrets for him. Zoroastre brought still further innovation. For the first time, he dispensed with a prologue, and turned the overture into a philosophical ‘program’, the struggle between day and night, between good and evil.

The 1749 version is entirely governed by avant-garde ideas; Zoroastre resembles Tamino in The Magic Flute, but two generations earlier. This disconcerted some of the audience: Zoroastre was a moral, social and philosophical opera. The 1749 version has never been revived in modern times. Alexis Kossenko takes up the challenge with zest, accompanied by an outstanding cast including Véronique Gens, Jodie Devos, Reinoud Van Mechelen, Mathias Vidal and Tassis Christoyannis.

REVIEW:

For listeners more used to English Baroque, this example of high French Baroque will require a big adjustment: every element – aria, duet, chorus, instrumental interlude – is short and thick with text; the feminine ending of each musical line reinforces the Gallic character of the whole.

The chorus and line-up of soloists is first-rate, with a suitably menacing Abramane (Tassis Christoyannis) and a witchy Érinice (Véronique Gens); with a gorgeously pure-toned Amélite (Jodie Devos), and an expressive and clarion-voiced Zoroastre (Reinoud van Mechelen). The instrumental numbers (notably the sarabands) are beautifully done, with the weather – lashings of thunder and lightning – forcefully dramatised throughout.

-- BBC Music Magazine

Victor Julien-Laferrière, winner in 2017 of the first Queen Elisabeth International Music Competition of Belgium dedicated to the cello, presents here two French works for cello and orchestra: Outscape by Pascal Dusapin: "The title itself carries the musical project (...) a word rich in meaning that indicates a variety of meanings from the most common to the most philosophical. “Outscape” is the way or opportunity to escape, to invent a path of one's own. I liked this word because it is basically like a summary of the history of my work." Alongside this work composed in 2015 and here recorded in its world premiere (conducted by Kristiina Poska), the French cellist, the Orchestre National de France, this time conducted by David Robertson, celebrate Henri Dutilleux (who died just 10 years ago, on 22 May 2013), with his famous concerto, whose title is taken from a poem in Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du mal, La Chevelure: " A whole far-away world, absent, almost defunct"...

REVIEW:

Tout un monde lointain… finds Dutilleux at his stealthiest – not least in the first of its five continuous movements, ‘Énigme’, to whose refractory changes of mood JulienLaferrière is as attentive as he is to the probing inwardness of ‘Regard’ and the plangent dialogue of ‘Houles’. Nor is he afraid of mining a deeper vein of expression than many in the shimmering vistas of ‘Miroirs’, before ‘Hymne’ brings this Baudelaire-inspired sequence to an energetic if ultimately equivocal conclusion.

The numerous possible meanings of Dusapin's Outscape (2015), are reflected in the timbral and textural interplay of music where a corresponding emotional intensity gradually takes precedence. Even in the dramatic final stage, an interiorized quality remains foremost yet, as JulienLaferrière renders it, there is never an absence of immediacy.

With vibrant orchestral playing and sound of real vividness, this disc can be warmly recommended.

-- Gramophone

Among the many composers he commissioned new works from, including Britten and Lutosławski, the cello concerto that Rostropovich commissioned from Henri Dutilleux holds a special place. Rostropovich commissioned new works at the drop of a hat, and it took only a backstage introduction by Igor Markevitch in 1961 (reminiscent of Rostropovich’s first meeting with Britten, the introducer being Shostakovich) for him to prompt Dutilleux to write something for him. Rostropovich added that the famously slow and meticulous composer take his time, which Dutilleux did, producing Tout un monde lointain… , the concerto’s given title, in 1968. This led to the premiere in 1970 and later a famous recording by Rostropovich for EMI, transferred to CD in 1988.

The title, which translates as “An entire world far away,” was a considered choice, taken from the poetry of Baudelaire – in the early 1950s Dutilleux was inspired to write a ballet based on Les fleurs du mal, but it came to nothing. Baudelaire is the source of the one-word titles of the concerto’s five movements, but it is reasonable simply to consider them as indicators of the music’s atmospheric moods. As varied as the score is, Dutilleux focuses on the cello’s lyrical voice.

Dutilleux ascribed much of the work’s immediate success to Rostropovich’s performance, which is likely enough. That poses a formidable challenge for subsequent soloists, in the present case Victor Julien-Laferrière, an admired French cellist born in Paris in 1990. I’ve appreciated him as a member of the outstanding Trio Les Esprits[.]

Therefore, I listened to the present release with faith in Julien-Laferrière’s abilities. He is in every way exemplary, and the absence of Rostropovich’s strong presence isn’t felt unless you do a bar-by-bar comparison. Dutilleux lived long enough – he died at 97 in 2013 – to journey through many stylistic phases, and I’d say that Tout un monde lointain… , despite its modernist harmonies, is richly Romantic. A flair for theatricality infuses the score, which aids in directly communicating with the listener.

David Robertson, a specialist in modern and contemporary music, provides ideal accompaniment, and although Serge Baudo is excellent on the Rostropovich recording, this new version features more precise and colorful orchestral execution from the Orchestre National de France, along with improved, up-to-date recorded sound.

The notion of a distant imagined world is a shared theme with Pascal Dusapin’s Outscape from 2016 – in a free-form composer’s note he rhapsodizes about the connotations of this English word, which frankly I’d never run across before (it’s a synonym for “an escape”).

Outscape is engrossing, underscored by Julien-Laferrière’s intense and highly accomplished performance of the solo part. I often couldn’t follow the argument by ear, but there was no trouble remaining involved with a work that exemplifies the current eclecticism so vividly. The mood is often deliberate, at times mournful, and it helps that the music’s emotional tone is so clear and direct, even as its gestures widely divagate.

It’s frustrating, no doubt, to compete with a classic recording, all the more because the Dusapin must stand up to Rostropovich’s pairing, the esteemed Lutosławski Cello Concerto, another of his most notable commissions. But Julien-Laferrière has a great deal going for him, and there’s no obstacle to giving this release a strong recommendation.

-- Fanfare

There is no piece of music that the Patricia Kopatchinskaja cannot play in a way that unwinds your expectations and forces you to hear it anew.

This new recording marks the reformation of the legendary duo of Patricia Kopatchinskaja and Fazil Say. The Moldovan violinist says the Turkish pianist ‘is a volcano, with an indomitable strength and energy’, while he emphasizes the ‘freedom’ that her ‘spontaneous playing’ exudes: ‘At each concert, she creates a different character and tells a new story.’ The explosive duo presents a program devoted to Bartók’s Violin Sonata no.1 (‘a marvel from start to finish, one of his finest works’, says Patkop), Brahms’s D minor Sonata (‘I imagine a feather in flight at the opening of the sonata’) and Janáček’s Sonata, ‘an extreme work, wounded and heart-rending’.

REVIEW:

There is no piece of music — works by Tchaikovsky or Schoenberg, or an old folk tune — that the violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja cannot play in a way that unwinds your expectations and forces you to hear it anew. So it is with the latest chapter in her partnership with the intrepid Turkish pianist and composer Fazil Say. The Janacek sonata that opens this recording and the Bartok Sonata No. 1 that closes it clearly play to the duo’s strengths: curiosity, an impatience with convention and exceptional technique. They pounce, almost too eagerly, on each of the Janacek’s lightning-quick mood changes; and in the Bartok, a piece in which the two instruments work virtually at cross purposes, they achieve an ESP-like mutual responsiveness.

Their rendition of Brahms’s Violin Sonata No. 3 in D minor, however, is the paramount achievement here. Resisting the urge to swath this wistful music in a big luxuriant tone, Kopatchinskaja adopts a timbre that’s sometimes bristly, sometimes gossamer-light. She and Say push the music to extremes: The quiet moments seethe and the outbursts approach violence, but it’s all done with impeccable control. The piece sounds bereft and heartbroken even as it avoids the clichés of Romanticism. It’s not the way I’d want to hear it played every time, but it’s invaluable for offering a glimpse deep into a work you might have thought predictable, which is exactly what these imaginative musicians are after.

-- New York Times (David Weininger)

The Busch Trio continues its Schubertian explorations in two works brimming with melodic invention and nostalgia: the Trio in B flat and the famous ‘Trout’ Quintet in A major. But to those who see Schubert as the embodiment of the gemütlich (cosy) face of Vienna, his output, and especially his chamber music, responds with a spirituality, an intensity, and sometimes even a fury that are far removed from the atmosphere of the ‘Schubertiade’.

Despite the ‘effortless musicianship’ (The Times) and great emotional sensitivity ascribed to the Busch Trio by the press and their loyal fans, these three musicians are guided by the head as much as the heart when playing music, being very much aware of what they are doing. ‘The more you know, the more freedom you feel’ is one of the key maxims of the ensemble.

REVIEW:

The Busch Trio rivals classics recordings by, among others, Rudolf Serkin and the Marlboro Festival ensemble's, for musicianship and might be the most varied and imaginative of all. In addition, the recorded sound is the best of the lot, both for balancing the five instruments and for beauty. The tempos in all three performances are close, so that is a non-issue. There’s such a palpable delight communicated by the playing that I find this new account irresistible. The variations on “Die Forelle” that give the quintet its nickname are done with the lyrical phrasing of an exquisite Lieder singer. This testifies to the virtue mentioned above, that we hear a unified musical mind in the interpretation. In other hands the “Trout” Quintet can veer into sameness by the end, which the Busch Trio counters with a finale that sparkles exuberantly.

I have no hesitation in ranking both performances at or very near the top of a crowded catalog. The old guard fades, and it is heartening that the new generation can express Schubert as beautifully as anyone from the past.

-- Fanfare

Enthusiasm, affection and style...all those qualities are here again in abundance [on the Busch Trio's second Schubert album], the B flat Trio radiant where the E flat is motivically combative, the Trout Quintet perhaps the sine qua non of works composed for companionable music-making.

The striding opening of the Trio is suitably outgoing here, vividly transmitting its melodic generosity, but this ensemble’s extroversion does not ignore the clouds that cover its essentially sunny outlook on occasion. The mood is appropriately tender in the Andante, quizzical in the Scherzo and urbane in the finale. The Busch Trio’s sympathy with this repertoire feels absolute, their communicative ardour evident throughout the performance.

The two trios are works on the largest scale, so don’t often come with much more than brief couplings to add a few minutes to the running time. So it’s a blessing indeed to have the B flat Trio coupled with a whole Trout Quintet, and not one that’s rushed through, either. The Trout is one of those works that seems indestructible: it’s virtually impossible for even the most half-hearted performance not to convey bags of charm and charisma. When it’s played with the affection that the Busch lavish upon it, it’s irresistible. The recording smooths the edges off the piano sound but enables the contribution of each player to be heard ideally. Omri Epstein’s piano bubbles and ripples infectiously but the whole is anchored by the buoyant bass of Naomi Shaham. A true delight from start to finish.

-- Gramophone

For the fourth volume in this collection dedicated to Mozart concertos by the younger generation of performers, the Orpheum Foundation and Alpha Classics present the Concertos nos. 23 and 24 (K488 & 491) performed by the British pianist Julian Trevelyan, who was awarded three prizes at the Géza Anda Competition in Zurich in 2021 and, at the age of sixteen, became the youngest-ever prizewinner at the Marguerite Long Competition in Paris in 2015. ‘Mozart’s music is full of life, humor and enjoyment. My life wouldn’t feel fulfilled if I didn’t have his music’, says the young musician, who is accompanied here by one of the most eminent Mozartian maestros, Christian Zacharias, conducting the ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra.

The Orpheum Foundation, which has been supporting young musicians for over thirty years, has joined forces with Alpha Classics for a series of recordings devoted to Mozart’s concertos, regardless of instrument. The leading soloists of the young generation have been selected to appear under the artistic direction of Howard Griffiths, a renowned Mozart conductor, who considers that performing his music is like ‘looking in a mirror: you can hear if everything is in place, musicality, intonation, rhythm, phrasing’. These albums will reveal the great virtuosos of tomorrow and immortalize their success in this implacable test. Ludvig Gudim plays the Violin Concerto No. 4 in D Major, K. 218 (with cadenzas by Joachim); Joséphine Olech plays the Flute Concerto No. 1 in G Major, K. 313; and Jeneba Kanneh-Mason plays the Piano Concerto No. 6 in B-Flat Major, K. 238.

For the American composer Caroline Shaw, writing music is like ‘cooking someone you love a meal’, she told BBC Music Magazine. The youngest-ever winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Music, Shaw has premiered works at Carnegie Hall and the BBC Proms.

Good food and music ‘should be nourishing and complex; they should be something that you can taste easily in the beginning before you find there’s much more underneath’. As the journalist Kate Wakeling points out: ‘This sounds much like Shaw’s own music. Her work combines immediate, sensuous appeal with taut structural rigor.’ This album is the outcome of a meeting between the composer and David Violi, Pauline Buet, and their partners from I Giardini. It presents a monograph of chamber music, including a world premiere recording, The Wheel, a dialogue between the voices of the cello and the piano.

REVIEW:

The Pulitzer prize-winning Caroline Shaw (b.1982) has a gift for sensuous, delicate music in which a sturdy sense of form, often based on nature or architecture, is ever evident. She blends rough with smooth in a manner that manages to be challenging but enticing.

A solo piano piece, Gustave le Gray, takes Chopin’s A minor Mazurka, Op 17, as a starting point, intriguingly expanded with fresh material. Boris Kerner, for cello and eerie-sounding flower pots, pays homage to the German physicist who invented three-phase traffic theory. That description hardly does justice to the haunting music created here. The title work, The Wheel, for piano and cello, was commissioned by I Giardini. Guided by musical contours of the baroque, it turns beguilingly towards contemplation and demands attentive listening.

-- The Guardian (UK)

This album is the story of a dialogue between two voices: the singing voice and the voice of the cello, which has always been considered the instrument closest to the human voice. It is also the story of two worlds and the meeting of two cultures, East and West. The East we encounter here is Armenia, its thousand-year-old culture, its music and its songs, which resonate with the compositions of Bach, Kodály and Ligeti.

For the cellist Astrig Siranossian, vocal melody and the sound of the cello are two voices that she has always combined in her concerts, coupling a dance from a solo cello suite by Bach with an Armenian song that she performs with great sensitivity. East and West, Armenia and Europe: it is her roots and her emotions that the young cellist shares with us here. This recording was made on two different cellos, according to the repertory: an instrument by Francesco Ruggieri dating from 1676 and the famous Giovanni Gagliano of 1756 known as the ‘Sir John Barbirolli’.

The famous Marquise de Pompadour, favorite of King Louis XV for nearly twenty years, reigned over the arts at court. Rameau, whom she particularly admired, was omnipresent. He received a specific commission for the Théâtre des Petits Appartements, where the Marquise herself sang in the midst of a troupe of amateurs and professionals: the result was Les Surprises de l’Amour, from which the ensemble Les Surprises takes its name. Under the expert direction of Louis-Noël Bestion de Camboulas, the group presents here the very first recording of this ballet in its original 1748 version, including the prologue entitled Le Retour d’Astrée, and couples it with another commission for one of the court’s annual residences at Fontainebleau: Les Sybarites (1753), an acte de ballet whose principal couple is reminiscent of the King himself and his favorite. A first-rate vocal line-up brings these two works back to life: Marie Perbost, Eugénie Lefebvre, Jehanne Amzal, Clément Debieuvre, David Witczak, Philippe Estèphe.

This recording presents one of the most lucid and well-programmed portraits of john Adams to emerge, well, in a long while.

In this program, Paavo Järvi and the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich celebrate a composer of our time with works from different periods and citing a wide range of references, whether autobiographical or typically American. John Adams has assimilated numerous musical influences, and his personal style cannot be reduced to one of them: he is neither Minimalist, nor post-Minimalist, nor neo-Romantic. Some of his works can of course be said to belong to one or other of these movements, but he does not consider himself to be the representative of any particular tendency. If he refers to musical tradition in his works, it is always in a critical way and at the same time open to the influences of pop music, rock, and jazz.

REVIEW:

Paavo Järvi and the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich mightn’t be the first pairing one associates with the music of John Adams. But, as their new album – simply titled John Adams – attests, they’ve pretty much got the iconic American composer’s style down pat.

Rhythmically, the Swiss band really digs into the proceedings here. That’s especially true of their account of Lollapalooza, a whimsical 1995 curtain-raiser dedicated to Simon Rattle. Järvi’s tempo is notably slower than either Kent Nagano’s or Michael Tilson Thomas’s, yet, if the reading is less overtly edgy, it’s perhaps jazzier than its forebears. And it certainly doesn’t want for energy or textural clarity.

Similar qualities mark Slonimsky’s Earbox, another mid-‘90s effort. It’s brilliantly energetic, yes, but Järvi’s command of its structure is the real story: this is as coherent a Slonimsky as has been played, clearly drawing on all the threads of Adams’ style up to about 1996 while also suggesting what was to come in pieces like Naïve and Sentimental Music and Son of Chamber Symphony.

Also, My Father Knew Charles Ives, Adams’ semi-autobiographical 2003 tone poem that, last year, was the highlight of a disc from the Nashville Symphony. Järvi and the Tonhalle-Orchester are, generally, a bit more relaxed in their tempos than their counterparts in Tennessee, especially in the first movement. But the performance never slogs; rather, it overflows with atmosphere and color.

Rounding things out is a carefully-balanced account of Adams’ 1986 fanfare Tromba lontana. Perhaps less familiar than its more vigorous companion piece, Short Ride in a Fast Machine, Tromba lontana, with its delicately dancing textures, potently complements My Father Knew Charles Ives.

The end result is one of the most lucid and well-programmed portraits of Adams to emerge, well, in a long while. As such, it’s an excellent way to mark the composer’s 75th birthday this year – or just his general contributions to contemporary music, which, as this disc reminds, have been anything but commonplace or predictable.

-- The Arts Fuse (Jonathan Blumhofer)

Julien Chauvin meets up with one of the great harpsichordists and fortepianists of our time, Andreas Staier, who is a leading interpreter of the Mozart concertos. He presents us with his vision of the Piano Concerto no.23 and its famous Adagio, ‘one of the most heart-rending slow movements ever written by Mozart. Performers often tend to take it too slowly, certainly thinking that this will accentuate the tragic side, but Julien Chauvin and I spontaneously agreed on a slightly faster tempo, which respects the basic pulse of this movement in Siciliana rhythm. When you start with the right tempo, it’s amazing how the whole discourse comes together perfectly, in a very logical and simple manner’, says Staier, who plays a magnificent instrument by Christoph Kern after a 1790 fortepiano by Anton Walter, the great maker of Mozart’s time. Also on the program is the Symphony no.40, in which, says Julien Chauvin, ‘Mozart explores types of writing that he pushes to their most extreme limits. This is the case in the finale, where we find a succession of dissonant disjunct intervals at the opening of the development which, on closer inspection, present us with the full chromatic scale (except for G natural, the symphony’s tonic). And so the twelve-note series was born!’

Barbara Hannigan writes: “Sehnsucht, a central and nearly untranslatable word of the Viennese fin-de-siècle period, referring to aspects of longing, melancholy, and nostalgia. During the Covid-19 pandemic, a collective Sehnsucht arose, in performers and audiences alike. Sehnsucht: Live in Rotterdam, played to the empty concert hall of De Doelen. We decided to issue the recording as an album, recognizing that the performance also represents continuity and mentorship through music. Both young Dutch artists, conductor Rolf Verbeek and baritone Raoul Steffani are associated with the initiatives Equilibrium and Momentum, and joined me and the Camerata RCO for this intimate journey… In Sehnsucht, we explore two song cycles of Berg, written shortly after Mahler’s 4th Symphony. All these works are presented in special arrangements for chamber ensemble. The Berg songs are expanded from their original voice and piano to a dialogue of new colors and instrumentation. Mahler’s 4th Symphony is reduced to an intimate soloistic journey, a tender conversation.”

Joachim Du Bellay (1522-1560) stormed onto the Parisian literary scene with the resounding avant-garde manifesto Défense et illustration de la langue française. Ronsard and Du Bellay are the great French poets of the sixteenth century, but while the former has been set to music hundreds of times, Du Bellay inspired only about thirty compositions. Denis Raisin Dadre and his ensemble Doulce Mémoire celebrate the Angevin poet on the occasion of his 500th anniversary with works by the leading composers of the period, among them Arcadelt (who set nine chansons to his texts, including Je ne puis dissimuler a year before Du Bellay’s death), Lassus, Chardavoine and Verdonck. It was also established practice at the time to declaim poems accompanied by a musician who improvised on the lyre, an instrument and usage imported from Italy (recitare a la lira). Denis Raisin Dadre has decided to pay tribute to these sixteenth-century ‘slam poets’ by asking a modern equivalent, Kwal, to ‘slam’ some of Du Bellay's sonnets, including the famous "Heureux qui, comme Ulysse."

Guy Braunstein, who was concertmaster of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra for nearly fifteen years, pursues an international career as soloist, conductor and composer. His lifelong passion for the music of the Beatles led him to compose this suite for violin and orchestra which includes all the greatest hits of John Lennon, Paul McCartney and George Harrison, performed here with the Liege Royal Philharmonic under a longstanding musical partner, the Mexican conductor Alondra de la Parra. This large-scale rhapsody, based on a dozen Beatles songs, pays tribute to a group of musicians who were greatly influenced by Classical and Romantic composers. To accompany this first recording, two English works for violin and orchestra, The Lark Ascending by Ralph Vaughan Williams and the rarely performed Violin Concerto of Frederick Delius, which - like so many Beatles hits - was recorded at Abbey Road Studios in London!

‘Well, what a surprise – a divine surprise! I have delighted in immersing myself in the world of Handel for more than forty years now. But I must admit that I experienced yet another lesson in strength and joy when I toured and recorded the Dettingen Te Deum and the Coronation Anthems’, says Hervé Niquet. As a lover of large orchestral formations, he has assembled a number of instrumentalists and singers close to the (gigantic) forces used at the premiere, with a large band of oboes, bassoons and trumpets, and assigned the solo arias to the entire ‘chapel’. Niquet speaks of ‘the glittering power of this ceremonial music concocted by a Handel conscious of placing the best of his genius at the service of the crown and of history’, and he in turn invests all his enthusiasm and expressiveness in these works combining ‘grace and strength’. Fans of Champions League football will recognize in "Zadok the Priest" the theme of that competition’s anthem!

REVIEW:

Niquet’s fluid lines heighten the drama by drawing out crucial words in long, upswelling crescendos, punctuated at climaxes by pungent brass and woodwinds. His performers apply dynamics with authority and precision, fashioning an intricate fabric.

-- BBC Music Magazine

 

Schoenberg's famous Verklärte Nacht (Transfigured Night), inspired by Richard Dehmel's poem in which a woman announces to her companion that she is pregnant by another man, is presented here in its version for piano trio by Eduard Steuermann: 'This brilliant pianist, the creator of many of Schoenberg's pieces, brings the story to life by entrusting the dialogue between the man and the woman to cello and violin alone', says Thomas Dieltjens, pianist of the group Het Collectief. Anton Webern made a transcription of Schoenberg's Kammersymphonie Op.9 in 1923 for the same forces as Pierrot Lunaire. This miniature orchestra, consisting of just two wind instruments (flute, clarinet), two string instruments (violin, cello) and a piano, 'preserves great clarity in the polyphonic line'. Het Collectif asked the young composer Tim Mulleman to transcribe for the same ensemble the Piano Sonata Op. 1 of Alban Berg, who himself made arrangements of some of his own works, including the famous Adagio from his Kammerkonzert, also presented in this programme.