It is, quite simply, excellent, rich in the most beautiful 'affects', wonderfully transparent in sound, with a slight touch of swing in the fast movements that really allows this music to blossom, lively in the allegro, and wonderfully sentimental (but by no means saccharine) in the slow movements. This is what a reviewer wrote to us in his evaluation of this recording before it's release. Indeed, these concertos, recorded here for the first time on period instruments, possess a distinctive beauty that makes them "worth the fuss". In these virtuoso and weightless creations, their composer Joseph Umstatt (1711-1762) proves himself a connoisseur and master of the gallant style that took the entire music world by storm at the time - how else could he have spent the last decade of his life as court composer and kapellmeister to the Prince-Bishop of Bamberg?

Fritz Kauffmann was a composer who never fully realised his natural potential because he "suffered" from so many different talents. Specifically, this son of a Berlin businessman, after completing his studies and spending some time as a private tutor, worked to reform musical life in Magdeburg from 1889 onwards, performing there as a conductor and pianist while neglecting his own creative work. The regret expressed by some contemporaries is easy to understand when listening to the two piano trios from the 1880s recorded here. He was a powerful romantic who expressed subtle originality within familiar forms. His expression and creativity range from dramatic force to subtle humour, and - as can be heard in the "Barcaruola" from Opus 20 - he was not above the use of catchy tunes.

Exactly 318 years ago, Reinhard Keiser composed a box office hit for the Gansemarkt Opera House - the sensation was entitled Der angenehme Betrug oder der Carneval von Venedig (The Pleasant Deception or the Carnival of Venice) which delighted audiences for nearly a quarter century. On the one hand, this was thanks to a bizarre Carnival story, where two couples fall in love with the wrong partner just before the happy ending � la Cos� fan tutte, while a German aristocratic couple are happy to settle for "friendship" after all their trials and tribulations. On the other, this was due to the catchy pieces with which the directors of Hamburg's opera house entertained their audiences - simple strophic songs, cute arias, the occasional bawdy piece in the local North German dialect, what more could be desired! Our new production with barockwerk Hamburg features musical highlights (without dialogues); these are so extensive that two CDs are necessary to include them all.

A good year younger than Max Reger and five months older than Arnold Schonberg, Vienna's Julius Bittner (1874-1939) earned his livelihood as a lawyer for many years. Even before he gave up this profession in 1922, he was already one of the most frequently performed opera composers in Austria. In particular, his one-act opera Das hollisch Gold (Hellish Gold), which premiered in 1916, was highly acclaimed, and several of his instrumental works were also well received - even though (or perhaps because) he was anything but a "pioneer composer". His music was rooted in melody. He had broken free from Wagner's influence and became interested in folk music as exemplified by his two string quartets (1913 and 1917) with their "pastoral" flair. The former especially seems like the "Mahler of chamber music" in several passages, possibly a posthumous homage to his one-time supporter who guided Bittner's talent in the right direction.

In the first half of the 20th century, we encounter a number of luminaries who in a peculiar way are reincarnations of late medieval architects - although the compositional fabric they created is completely different from solid matter. Paul Hindemith was one such guild member, as was his Austrian contemporary Johann Nepomuk David. This recording of David's symphonies works is a further step in producing a first complete recordings of his symphonic works. The Third of eight symphonies from 1940-41 as well as the Seventh, completed in 1956 are on the program. The artist's virtues are obvious. Sometimes they are like painted woodcarvings, sometimes like neat blueprints of motivic connections, using folk song elements even in the most advanced structures. These fascinating works invite the listener to sit down to this compelling music.

According to an old tradition, it is perfectly legitimate to arrange works for one instrument to another, if this does not detract from the substance of the work. This is what the young Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart likely told himself when he arranged three piano sonatas by his admired role model Johann Christian Bach into small concertos (KV 107) in his early years. This is also what Silke Aichhorn told herself with equal justification when she arranged one of these pieces for the harp alongside concertos by the German Johann Samuel Schroter, who was almost the same age. The pairing is no coincidence. Mozart and his father both admired the works of Schroter, born in Guben, Lusatia, who enjoyed a distinguished career as a pianist. In 1782, he succeeded the "London Bach" as music teacher to Her Majesty Queen Charlotte - unfortunately not for very long. Schroter died three years before Amadeus and at the same age.

Just in time for the 200th birthday of Johann Strauss II on 25 October 2025, cpo is releasing the complete recording of a comedy that will itself celebrate it's 130th anniversary on 4 December. In Waldmeister, the undisputed king of the waltz once again pulls out all the stops and delivers a delightful comedy whose scandalous mix-ups ultimately dissolve in a high-proof punch. It's distinctive taste features a hero with a botanical title (Galium odoratum) and a series of evergreens - above all, the leitmotif and proverbial "Trau schau wem" ("Trust, but check"), which is enthusiastically taken up by friend and foe alike. This live recording was made during the Staatstheater am G�rtnerplatz's guest performance in Vienna and whose new production contributed to this year's Austrian Strauss celebrations.

There are such defining moments in life. On the path towards one's own calling, there is an encounter with one of the greats, and everything is suddenly different. For the young Robert Kahn, the moment came on one day in 1886 when he met Johannes Brahms. The maestro from Northern Germany was apparently able to put many sympathetic strings in motion upon meeting the young composer from Mannheim. This resulted in an oeuvre in which his chamber music from duo to quintet often strikes a tone that we recognise from his role model. Without ever copying his mentor, Kahn thrives on his full-bodied and opulent voice leading, which gives the three piano quartets in particular a symphonic dimension. Next to these is the spirited transparency of the Serenade for string trio from 1933, when the music world congratulated Johannes Brahms on his 100th birthday. Robert Kahn is not afraid to occasionally take the master at his word

Marco Marazzoli was a composer, harpist, and singer, and as such moved in the highest circles of the clergy. This was certainly not only due to his own priesthood, but above all to the extraordinary quality of his creations. He was born around 1602 in Parma and died in Rome in 1662. He was successful with large-scale works and in the field of chamber music cantatas. Towards the end of his life, he composed a series of experimental vocal works for six voices and a small instrumental ensemble that even satisfied the demands of Christ's representative on earth. After all, in these miniature dramas, the composer and his poets celebrated the Pope as a man of peace, through whose mediation the Franco-Spanish War had ended in 1659. This recognition can still be felt today.

The name Johann Stamitz is so inextricably linked to the legendary "Mannheim School" that the title of this production might be viewed as a misprint. In fact, however, there is nothing wrong with the Bohemian musician's "Darmstadt Symphonies," as their name merely refers to the place where the performance material was archived. The parts were prepared by Christoph Graupner, the Kapellmeister of the Darmstadt Court Orchestra at the time. It cannot be determined exactly where and when Stamitz wrote this lively, concise, and innovative music; however, there is no doubt that these compositions take us back to the earliest years of a genre that, despite countless changes, has remained a creative touchstone to this day. To sense the spirit of the birth of the symphonic tradition is a refreshing experience: at the beginning of all things, the power of simplicity reigns.

Anyone who entitles an organ piece a Grand Pi�ce Symphonique should not be surprised if this very title one day is used as a benchmark to determine the legitimacy of this claimed attribute. This is exactly what the organist, composer, and pedagogue Zsigmond Szathm�ry did at the behest of his young colleague Christian Schmitt when he examined the orchestral possibilities of C�sar Franck's "great symphonic work". The result of this exploration gives us the world premiere of a concert piece in which the king of instruments and it's personified registers - i.e. The orchestra - form a captivating synthesis. Next to Franck's well-known tone poem Les �olides (The Daughters of Aeolus), the programme includes a rarely recorded work by Charles-Marie Widor - a Walpurgis Night that easily rivals the most famous witches' dances in the Romantic literature.

To the singer of the valley is etched on a memorial stone for the composer Johann Gottlieb Naumann. It would be hard to pay him a more fitting tribute. Three dozen operas; nearly two dozen masses; Italian oratorios; a wealth of German sacred music; as well as a fair amount of chamber music - the man from Blasewitz near Dresden, who enjoyed success at the Royal Swedish Opera before settling permanently in his hometown, knew more than just how to sing on stage and in church. His collections of songs for voice and piano are full of little gems that any of the muses would have fought over. Marie Luise Werneburg and her accompanist Sebastian Knebel have compiled just such a programme here: tastefully interwoven with three small-scale quartets, the songs transport the listener to intimate salons where domestic music-making grew into an increasingly powerful medium.

When Jan van Gilse completed his studies in Cologne in 1902, he devoted himself to his prizewinning First Symphony along with a dramatic scene based on the prose poem Sulamith by Prince Erich von Sch�naich-Carolath, in which Satan realises that there is still love on earth despite his machinations. Judging by his impressive music, this must have been the innermost conviction of the composer, who never found it easy in his life to bridge the gap between his German education and the prevailing taste of his fellow countrymen. Combative and vulnerable, quick-tempered and desperate, he strove for a truth that few heard - a loner even when, in 1929, he wrote the poignant Kreis des Lebens (Circle of Life) after Rainer Maria Rilke, which had had to wait for a hundred years to receive an adequate performance and deserved recognition. Now it has arrived.

Five years younger than Johann Sebastian Bach, who survived him by all of eight months, Gottfried Heinrich St�lzel was among those Central German musicians who made a name for themselves beyond their regional sphere of influence. It is no coincidence that the sacred works of Gotha's long-serving court conductor in particular have now found a suitable home in our catalogue. The passions, oratorios, and cantatas that have already been released are now joined by five pieces of Protestant sacred music in which the extensive Catholic liturgy is reduced to Kyrie and Gloria. The missae breves selected here confirm once again that their author was 'one of the most reasonable, learned and great composers' to whom Johann Mattheson rightly accorded a place of honour in his Ehrenpforte of 1740. All should know.

Had Alberto Ginastera not been born just three years after the scandalous premiere of The Rite of Spring, he could easily have been considered one of the earliest followers of the "pagan" Stravinsky. Although wild rhythms of ancient dances, volcanic eruptions of complex sound layers, and martyrs of all kinds permeate his works, they are never random in form. His First String Quartet from 1948, for example, follows a traditional path, with some bows losing a bit of horsehair during performance - not unlike his Piano Quintet, premiered in Venice in 1963, which explores the limits of what is possible in seven extremely concise sections that the composer described as "neo-expressionistic". Maurice Ravel's unique String Quartet acts as an "impressionist" antipode and delicate counterpoint in this context.