Company of Voices

London-born composer Tarik O'Regan was only 30 when the second CD devoted to his choral music, Threshold of Night: Music for Voices and Strings, was released. The works collected here show him to have an assured, individual voice; consummate technique as a choral composer; and an ability to create complex music that's not "difficult," that has an immediately sensual appeal. O'Regan's harmonic language is rooted in tonality, but it is richly saturated with chromaticism. He uses dissonance in the old-fashioned way, creating tension that finds satisfying, if unconventional, resolution.

Early music specialists are still working through the wealth of Handel operas that began coming more to light in the late 20th century. Flavio, Rè di Longobardi remains one of his more obscure works. Its musical variety and richness make it a piece that deserves more attention and this excellent recording in Chandos' series of Baroque operas featuring Christian Curnyn and Early Opera Company makes a strong case for it. The plot, like that of many of Handel's operas, is convoluted to the point of being indecipherable, but each of the characters is carefully drawn. These singers invest each one with an incisive dramatic distinctiveness, and their voices are different enough that here is never in doubt as to which characters are singing. Curnyn leads a superb cast in an elegant performance.

Listen: there was once a king sitting on his throne. Around him stood great and wonderfully beautiful columns ornamented with ivory, bearing the banners of the king with great honour. Then it pleased the king to raise a small feather from the ground and he commanded it to fly. The feather flew, not because of anything in itself but because the air bore it along. Thus am I 'A feather on the breath of God'.

The D’Oyly Carte Company began its association with Decca after World War II, embarking on a series of recordings in the late 1940s and early 50s of the major Savoy Operas. A subsequent stereo-era cycle, begun in 1957, was followed in turn by a new series of which the present 1974 recording of Iolanthe is part of; in many respects, it is superior to its 1960 predecessor. Whereas the former set had used an ad-hoc orchestra, one of the glories of this remake is the contribution of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra – immediately apparent from the atmospheric strings at the start of the overture (one of the few which Sullivan composed himself) and the brilliant woodwind playing in its fleet-footed dancing passages.