Includes work(s) by Miklós Rózsa. Soloists: Philippe Quint, William Wolfram.

Stéphane Denève's Roussel cycle is shaping up to be the finest available--not that there's a lot of compelling competition. All of the symphonies are shockingly neglected, but the First might be the least-familiar of them all, God only knows why. It's a gorgeous, impressionistic piece with evocative titles (Forest in Winter, Renewal, Summer evening, Fauns and Dryads) and shimmering, atmospheric music that lives up to its expectations. Denève leads a thoroughly committed, even inspired performance, sensitive to Roussel's detailed scoring but also fluent, lively, and attentive to each movement's symphonic architecture. It's a wonderful performance, excellently played and recorded.

There's very little "minor" Roussel. Even his short works have a certain seriousness and substance. This is certainly true of Résurrection, a symphonic prelude after Tolstoy, while the four-movement suite from Le marchand de sable qui passe reveals Roussel's expert scoring for small ensemble (flute, horn, clarinet, harp, and strings). Really this is an essential acquisition for anyone who loves French music and the late Romantic school in general. Don't pass it up.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Albert Roussel wrote a notable body of work for piano, although he is better known for his orchestral works. This is the second of three volumes of the complete works for piano. It includes Roussel’s own piano reduction of his first orchestral work. Resurrection is a response to the feelings provoked by Tolstoy’s final novel. The composer’s love for nature and the outdoors inspired the three Rustiques. Promenade sentimentale en foret, the second movement of the piece, is memorable for its birdsong and moving polyphony. The Suite in F-Sharp Minor is Roussel’s largest piano composition, and is instilled with energy and exciting effects.

Albert Roussel forged a unique musical identity in his music and remains one of the most intriguing and influential of French composers. In this first of three volumes of his complete piano music one can hear his originality as early as the Sonatine, Op 16, composed in 1912 where fantasy and atmospheric colour are prominent. Le Marchand de sable qui passe, Op 13 (The Sandman) is incidental music written for a verse play where the influence of Debussy and Wagner can sometimes be felt. Roussel’s last creative phase, represented by Trois Pièces, Op 49, reveals his incisive wit, concern for rhythmic vitality, and even jazzy turns of phrase.

If you have yet to fall under the spell of this music, Naxos has now packaged the complete set at an even better price. Stéphane Denève's Roussel cycle for Naxos easily has been the finest ever recorded... Great sound, great music, great performances--a great series.


Stéphane Denève's Roussel cycle is shaping up to be the finest available--not that there's a lot of compelling competition. All of the symphonies are shockingly neglected, but the First might be the least-familiar of them all, God only knows why. It's a gorgeous, impressionistic piece with evocative titles (Forest in Winter, Renewal, Summer evening, Fauns and Dryads) and shimmering, atmospheric music that lives up to its expectations. Denève leads a thoroughly committed, even inspired performance, sensitive to Roussel's detailed scoring but also fluent, lively, and attentive to each movement's symphonic architecture. It's a wonderful performance, excellently played and recorded.

There's very little "minor" Roussel. Even his short works have a certain seriousness and substance. This is certainly true of Résurrection, a symphonic prelude after Tolstoy, while the four-movement suite from Le marchand de sable qui passe reveals Roussel's expert scoring for small ensemble (flute, horn, clarinet, harp, and strings). Really this is an essential acquisition for anyone who loves French music and the late Romantic school in general. Don't pass it up.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com


Has anyone ever noticed that William Walton lifted the climaxes of the first movement of his Partita for Orchestra bodily from the Prélude of Roussel's Suite in F? Granted, they aren't the two best-known works in the world, but the comparison really is striking. Like so much of Roussel's music, this marvelous work's neglect is a total mystery: it's an unalloyed delight that, at a scant quarter-hour, would make a perfect concert opener placed before a big concerto. The tone poem Pour une fête de printemps, title notwithstanding, is a darker work very much in the same style as the exactly contemporaneous Second Symphony, though it brightens up toward the end.

This brings us to the symphony, one of the shattering masterpieces of the 20th century literature and certainly the finest piece to come out of D'Indy's Schola Cantorum group of composers. There's no way it will ever be as popular as it deserves to be. Its dark opening, with its shadowy string textures, foreshadows late Shostakovich, and despite having some instantly memorable tunes and one of the most glorious scherzos in the entire universe for a central movement, the work commits the ultimate sin of ending quietly. Given its emotional and technical complexity, that's the kiss of death as far as programming is concerned.

Hot on the heels of Eschenbach's recent, excellent version, Stéphane Denève adds further laurels to his splendid Roussel cycle with this equally fine performance. While adopting very similar tempos throughout, he manages an interpretation that's quite different in character from Eschenbach's: lighter in texture (partly a function of the RSNO's bright basic timbre), and above all sharper in rhythm. You can hear this at the very outset, in the way Denève keeps up the Morse code-like motive (initially in the bassoons) right through the introduction. No one quite matches Martinon in the central scherzo, but this version comes very, very close, and in particular Denève, like Eschenbach, doesn't fall into the trap of playing the movement too quickly. And as always the RNSO horn section, so critical in the first and last movements, sounds glorious. Naxos' engineering is the most natural of all in terms of balance and perspective. Crank it up and wallow in some of the most marvelous symphonic music yet composed in France.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com


This disc recalls the heady days of Munch and Bernstein in this music. Stéphane Denève, music director of the RSNO since 2005, plays Roussel's music to the manner born (he was, of course, but you never know--remember Prêtre?). The first movement of the Third Symphony revels in its unbridled rhythmic thrust, while Denève wrings every drop of bittersweet poignancy from the slow movement, capping it off with the most intense and powerful climax you will ever hope to hear. The remainder of the symphony, ebullient and sparkling, with the finale emerging seamlessly from the quiet ending of the scherzo, caps a performance that's just about perfect.

Bacchus et Ariane--the two suites presented here constitute the entire ballet--has just as much fervor and brilliance. From the opening bars the orchestra plays like a pack of demons, and this makes the more melting and lyrical bits all the more moving. The opening of the Second Suite has that same feeling of deep nostalgia as does the slow movement of the symphony, and in the final Bacchanal Denève whips up an orchestral fury the likes of which we haven't heard in this piece since Munch. What makes the performance so special is that all of this excitement never compromises precision of execution, or that special sparkle and lightness of touch that we have come to regard as quintessentially French. This team looks set to become a major musical force, and a genuine star of the Naxos catalog. Keep it coming, please!

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com


Stéphane Denève's Roussel cycle for Naxos easily has been the finest ever recorded, and this concluding disc fully lives up to expectations. The Fourth symphony explodes with rhythmic vigor in the outer movements and captures all of the bittersweet lyricism of the slow second movement. It's an exuberant, effortless performance of a work that probably will never receive the attention it deserves on account of its brevity (just a touch more than 20 minutes) and pungent (but never gratuitously harsh) harmonic vocabulary. The couplings are all worthwhile, and important.

The Flemish Rhapsody (Rapsodie flamande) is a virtually unknown but wonderfully tuneful, even catchy example of Roussel's punchy late style. You'll wonder where it's been. The three works for chamber orchestra (the Sinfonietta is for strings only) are all cut from the same cloth as the symphony, and they are just as well played. The Royal Scottish National Orchestra sports some fine players, particularly the principal trumpet, and Denève lets them demonstrate their artistry without ever losing sight of the big formal picture in music that makes a point of its structural integrity. Great sound, great music, great performances--a great series.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This disc recalls the heady days of Munch and Bernstein in this music. Stéphane Denève, music director of the RSNO since 2005, plays Roussel's music to the manner born (he was, of course, but you never know--remember Prêtre?). The first movement of the Third Symphony revels in its unbridled rhythmic thrust, while Denève wrings every drop of bittersweet poignancy from the slow movement, capping it off with the most intense and powerful climax you will ever hope to hear. The remainder of the symphony, ebullient and sparkling, with the finale emerging seamlessly from the quiet ending of the scherzo, caps a performance that's just about perfect.

Bacchus et Ariane--the two suites presented here constitute the entire ballet--has just as much fervor and brilliance. From the opening bars the orchestra plays like a pack of demons, and this makes the more melting and lyrical bits all the more moving. The opening of the Second Suite has that same feeling of deep nostalgia as does the slow movement of the symphony, and in the final Bacchanal Denève whips up an orchestral fury the likes of which we haven't heard in this piece since Munch. What makes the performance so special is that all of this excitement never compromises precision of execution, or that special sparkle and lightness of touch that we have come to regard as quintessentially French. This team looks set to become a major musical force, and a genuine star of the Naxos catalog. Keep it coming, please!

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Although he is best known for his film scores and The Godfather in particular, Nino Rota’s concert music combines traditional tonality and forms with characteristically heartfelt melodies and appealing clarity. Contrasts abound in this selection of chamber works, from bassoon buffoonery in the Toccata to the Brahmsian eloquence of the Clarinet Sonata, and from the dramatic Improvviso and melancholy moods of the recently discovered Fantasia, to the jocular instrumental exchanges in the exquisite Trio.

Torvaldo e Dorliska was Rossini's 16th opera, premiered in Rome in December, 1815, two months after Elisabetta... and two months before Barbiere. It has an odd tone--it's a so-called "rescue opera". The plot concerns the eponymous hero and heroine, who are married. The evil Duke loves Dorliska and attacks the couple on their wedding day and leaves Torvaldo for dead. Dorliska runs away but winds up (unknowingly) taking refuge at the Duke's castle and is imprisoned. When Torvaldo finds his way there he attempts to rescue her, but he also is taken prisoner. The Duke's embittered henchman, Giorgio (a comic role), helps the couple. The villagers rise up and the Duke is punished, while our heroes live happily.

The opera is not in the top 10 of Rossini's great output--it breaks no new ground--but it's quite enjoyable despite being neither serious nor comic. Torvaldo has a couple of fine arias, as does Dorliska, the first-act finale is excellent, and even the basses and baritones have some good, if not altogether memorable, music.

This performance is very good indeed. Taped live in Bad Wildbad in July, 2003, stage noises do not interfere and there are precious few problems with ensembles, missed notes, etc., perhaps because there were patch-up sessions. Paolo Cigna and Huw Rhys-Evans are our heroine and hero and they're both up to the task. The former has plenty of high-flying and florid music and she sings it all accurately and with the right emphasis, while Rhys-Evans' very light, sweet voice copes well enough without the word "virtuoso" (or "Blake" or "Florez") coming to mind.

Michele Bianchini as the Duke exhibits a good-sized voice that may lack heft in the middle but that otherwise is a pleasure to hear. Mauro Utzeri, as the villain-turned-good guy Giorgio, sings with great character and a light tone (he's billed as a baritone); his duet with the Duke is a high spot. The rest of the cast is just fine.

Alessandro de Marchi leads a tight performance, one in which neither recitatives nor slower passages drag, and he keeps up with the singers nicely. Even a superb conductor would be unable to make the music of our villain, the Duke, sound villainous (this is Rossini's shortcoming in this opera), but he gives the work a respectable amount of drama nonetheless and his orchestra and chorus are excellent. No libretto is supplied but the track-by-track synopsis is very helpful.

There is another live recording of this opera, from Radio Switzerland in 1992 and starring tenor Ernesto Palacio (on Arkadia), but I haven't seen it in years--and at any rate, this Naxos set is better. Calling all Rossinians--who will also enjoy spotting bits and pieces of some of the composer's other operas sprinkled throughout.

--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

Rossini: The Barber of Seville (Highlights)

This disc received a 1996 Grammy nomination for "Best Opera Recording."

ROSSINI: String Sonatas Nos. 1- 3

Rossini's Stabat Mater is one of the staples of the sacred music repertoire but had a complicated history. He wrote it for performance in Madrid but, running short of time, enlisted the help of his friend Giovanni Tadolini. Rossini completed six pieces, Tadolini seven. Tadolini's pieces now only exist as piano reductions but conductor Antonino Fogliani has orchestrated them to allow listeners to hear the original work for the first time since 1833. Marco Tarelli's 2009 orchestration of Giovanna d'Arco (Joan of Arc), a cantata for solo voice, is also heard on this first recording.

While filled with Rossini's distinctive musical hallmarks and notable for some wonderful duets, Sigismondo was one of his very few failures in the genre, for which blame is usually laid at the feet of librettist Giuseppe Foppa. Today, however, we can appreciate how this tale of an abused wife who retains her love for her deranged husband pushes the boundaries of the grand narrative tradition info a more searching psychological drama. An emphasis on madness and guilt and coloratura expressions of finer feeling results in a fascinating meeting of convention with experiment, Rossini's subsequent re-use of his music for Sigismondo in later hit operas being ample evidence of its intrinsic quality.

Following his triumphant visit to Vienna in 1822, when several of his operas were extremely well-received, international success beckoned for Rossini. First performed at La Fenice, Venice in 1823, Semiramide was Rossini’s last Italian opera, written at the height of his creative powers. Its subject is Greek tragedy for which librettist Gaetano Rossi drew on an adaptation by Voltaire. Instrumentally sophisticated and classically structured, the opera remains one of the most remarkable examples of Rossini’s cultivation of bel canto.

Ricciardo e Zoraide, premiered in Naples on 3 December 1818, was Rossini’s 26th opera in eight years, and with close predecessor like Il barbiere di Siviglia, Otello, La Cenerentola, La gazza ladra and Mosè in Egitto it goes without saying that it has been rather overshadowed by the competition. This is not to say that it is uninteresting as a story and that the music is undistinguished.

It takes place during the Crusades in Dongola in ancient Nubia. The Nubian king Agorante is infatuated with Princess Zoraide, daughter of Ircano, whom Agorante has defeated. Zoraide was captured and the Christian knight Ricciardo, Zoraide’s lover, accompanies an emissary to have her released. Agorante’s wife, Zomira, feels her position as Queen is threatened and arranges that Ricciardo and Zoraide are captured and plots to have them executed. In the end an army of Christians rescues the two lovers.

The story is more complicated than the above summary says, but it is something of a thriller and it should be able to engage an audience – as it obviously did at Bad Wildbad in July 2013, even though it was only a concert performance. This on the other hand means that extraneous noises are reduced to a minimum – only applause after some numbers and at the end of acts.

The sinfonia is brass-laden and gloomy and we understand that this is going to be a sad story. After 3-4 minutes it becomes lighter in tone, march-like for a while, but there is little joy. Some woodwind for a while lighten things up further but a long horn solo spreads more gloom – though the melody is beautiful. In the end the Rossini we know steps forward, faintly smiling, but no crescendo within eyesight, just a jolly piccolo flute … and then: Curtain! There is a brassy intro to the opening chorus with troops and Nubian people – and here some joy creeps in: their leader Agorante has just returned home victorious.

Agorante addresses the people and informs that he has expelled Ircano and his followers because Ircano has denied him the hand of his daughter who, we already know from the summary, happens to be in love with Ricciardo. Thus we are at once involved in the love triangle that is the core of the story.

Agorante then sings a cavatina with high-lying tessitura and virtuoso passages, well-sung by Randall Bills who ends in the bass register. The cabaletta that follows, requires him to climb up in the stratosphere. A man of power he is properly hailed by his soldiers … and the audience.

Enter Zoraide, who is an important character – at the premiere she was sung by Isabella Colbran and we can expect some great things, but she is not quite in focus yet. After some dialogue with her confidante Elmira, the Queen, Zomira arrives. She offers to help Zoraide deal with Agorante’s unwelcome wooing – but her prime aim is to render Zoraide harmless since she believes Zoraide wants to force her off the throne. Zoraide doesn’t trust the Queen and the two women sing a dramatic duet, where the Queen is formidable in her anger (CD 1 tr. 8-10). When Agorante pops up this gives Rossini an opportunity to write a lively and dramatic terzetto, Cruda sorte! (CD 1 tr. 12-13), with a bridal chorus singing a wedding song in the background (the King is very sure he will bring home his new bride!), and here Rossini can’t avoid building up one of his famous crescendos.

There is a change of scenes, and after a proud soldiers’ chorus we finally encounter Ricciardo and his friend Ernesto. They have just arrived on a ship, Ernesto is there to plead to Agorante that he releases Zoraide and Ricciardo, disguised as an African, is acting as his guide. He sings a cavatina where he pours out his longing after Zoraide. Maxim Mironov, certainly one of today’s best bel canto tenors, has a sappy voice, elegant vocalism and marvellous phrasing (CD 1 tr. 16). In the cabaletta, which is filled with stunning coloratura, Ernesto also joins in. After a new change of scenes we meet the jealous Zomira and her confidante Elmira, who is ordered to keep an eye on Zoraide’s every move. In the final scene the tension builds up and Agorante’s decision to start another war creates turmoil, accompanied by martial rumble from the timpani.

We needn’t go into every complication during the second act, but there are some good musical numbers worth pointing out. The first is the duet between Agorante and Ricciardo, the latter still in disguise. Their voices are so different in character that there is no problem to tell them apart. They sing well together, and in the following florid cabaletta Agorante (Bills) excels in brilliant top notes, whereas Ricciardo (Mironov) displays his elegant bel canto (CD 2 tr. 6-7).

They separate and now Ricciardo and Zoraide meet alone for the first time – but they are secretly observed by Elmira! Their duet (CD 3 tr. 2-3) is one of the highlights of the score. The final note, taken fortissimo, causes furore in the audience. I would have preferred it much more lyrical. Before Ricciardo has been able to explain his plan to run away with his beloved, Agorante suddenly appears, and when Ircano, Zoraida’s father also unexpectedly appears, this gives room for a quartet, where Nahuel Di Pierro powerful black bass in the role of Ircano gives dramatic depth to the music.

In the next scene the vengeful Zomira has a big scene (CD 3 tr. 7-8). Musically it is excellent and Silvia Beltrami’s powerful and expressive voice – more contralto than mezzo-soprano – is certainly in phase with the character. A pity that her vibrato sometimes is a bit wider than one could wish, but it is a dramatic highpoint.

The final scene begins with plaintive sounds in the orchestra. Ricciardo and Zoraide are now certain they will be executed, and Zoraide, expresses her desperation in her grand scena. Alessandra Marianelli musters some really intensive singing here. But their rescue is imminent. Like a deus ex machina Ernesto arrives with his troops and disperses Agorante’s soldiers. He disarms Agorante, but Ricciardo prevents him from killing the King and gives his sword back to him. Moved by such chivalry Ircano grants Ricciardo the hand of Zoraide. Everybody, except Zomira, rejoices at this happy end!

Though not one of Rossini’s greatest operas, it still has a lot to offer. The singing on this issue is generally good and Maxim Mironov adds another great achievement to his CV as recording artist. The recorded sound is worthy of the occasion, and there is an interesting essay and a comprehensive synopsis. Rossinians shouldn’t miss this.

– MusicWeb International (Göran Forsling)