One may be surprised to hear in this recording the Sonata Op. 108 in D minor for cello and not for violin as Brahms conceived it. But, purists be damned, transcription in the 19th century was common practice, if only to facilitate the dissemination of works at a time when sound recording was not yet available! Indeed, didn’t Brahms himself transcribe his two Clarinet Sonatas Op. 120 for viola? In the present recording, Marie- Claude Bantigny has chosen simply to play the violin part an octave lower, without modifying the piano part in any way (unlike Paul Klengel in Op. 78), which allows the score to be heard practically in its original conception, like the same Lied that would be sung by a soprano or a bass baritone.
I know of no Rameau work more colourful, more melodious, more replete with inventive vitality, wrote Gramophone in reviewing this 1973 premiere recording of the French Baroque masters 1735 heroic ballet Les Indes galantes. There is immense enthusiasm and spirit in this performance [and] some excellent singing Among the array of sopranos I was specially impressed by the full, bright ring of Rachel Yakar Anne-Marie Rodde: a good stylist and a clean, accurate voice, coping well with Rameaus florid detail The tenor Bruce Brewer is a real find for the lyrical French roles: his voice is very smooth and graceful In all, a set which no Rameau admirer should miss. Conducted by Rameau specialist Jean-Claude Malgoire, it is now being issued for the first time on CD.
Known as the ‘First Lady of the organ’, Marie-Claire Alain was a strikingly mature, creative and intuitive artist. Spanning four centuries of music, from Baroque masterpieces by the likes of Couperin and Grigny, through cornerstones of the French organ repertoire by Widor, Vierne and Messiaen, to two discs of works by her brother Jehan, this collection is testament to her vast and impressively wide-ranging recording legacy.
Serse is a light and elegant comedy. It opens with the most famous of all Handel's arias, the notorious “Ombre mai fu“ (or Largo), quite a different piece when heard in context. Its mock solemnity sets the tone for what follows. The opera moves swiftly and charmingly, the recitatives often interspersed with brief ariosos rather than full-fledged arias. Outstanding in the cast is Hendricks, her voice flexible and distinctive, clearer and purer than it would become (after the tone began to unknit). She sings with great charm. Watkinson is a fluent Serse but doesn't leave a lasting impression. Oddly enough, I enjoyed Esswood's work more.
The fourth and final installment in a complete edition of Debussy songs might not seem to be a chartbuster, but that's just what this release by British soprano Lucy Crowe has become, and it deserves every bit of its success. In fact, you might even pick this one over the other three if you're looking to sample Crowe's approach: the program is exceptionally well put together, and it begins with Debussy's first published song, Tragédie, of 1881. There are several other early songs, giving insight into the young Debussy's romantic life as well as hints of the musical language to come and some real experiments (you could sample the Rondel chinois). From there, the program proceeds to later music but is not strictly chronological: instead Crowe leads you onto a path of extremely quiet songs wherein Debussy challenges the soprano to reside in her upper register, and Crowe meets the challenges beautifully. The tension is remarkable, with just a single piano solo and a pair of songs to Debussy's own texts (Nuits blanches, or Sleepless Nights) with baritone Christopher Maltman to break it. The music broadens out with some later songs, ending with Debussy's swan song, Noël des enfants qui n'ont plus de maisons, of 1915. The contributions of pianist Malcolm Martineau are substantial; he produces some truly eerie sounds in the quieter pieces. Highly recommended and often haunting.