Now presented complete, Raphaël Pichon and Pygmalion’s exceptional Lutheran Mass performances, in this often unjustly neglected genre, remind us of Bach’s telling psychological shift in the early 1730s from ephemeral duty to collating collections of music for posterity. The four parody Missae breves, comprised of a Kyrie and Gloria only, in the north German way, were compiled by Bach from cantata movements he clearly admired and felt could be productively recycled. Then there’s also the Missa of 1733 – the work which Bach offered to the new Elector of Saxony in search of wider recognition and which was to become the blueprint for that summa anthology, the Mass in B minor – now assembled with the others and strengthening the identity of Bach’s Mass oeuvre further.
A soul survivor in every sense of the term, this alto saxophonist is one of the few remaining jazz artists who made a major impact on the jazz community via an extensive run with producer Alfred Lion and the Blue Note label (Horace Silver being another Blue Note legend that comes to mind). From his first recordings for the label with Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers, it was clear that Lou Donaldson put melody and sound at a premium, coming up with an amalgam that combined the creamy smoothness of Johnny Hodges with the quicksilver bop inflections of Charlie Parker.
This release from 2003 offers 54 minutes of modern rock, while the second disc features 51 minutes of verbal fiction. A solid horn section augments a traditional rock ensemble: searing guitar, rumbling bass, durable drumming, and partytime keyboards. Passages of cafe piano lend a sedate romantic flair to the tunes, while sinuous electronics balance the music with futuristic embellishment. The core of power revolves around Brown's masterful vocals. His voice can be sultry and seductive one minute, only to soar to stratospheric heights the next, trembling the soul and scraping the ceiling of heaven. His soulful crooning delves past the audience's eardrums, burrowing deep into the heart to churn with evocative vigor and generate emotional responses of monumental scope…
An early-'80s jazz-pop-R&B synthesis as durable and pleasing as any other, Straight from the Heart was Patrice Rushen's most successful album, at least from a sales standpoint: it peaked at number 14 on the pop chart, 25 slots higher than 1980's Pizzazz. Still working with a core group of associates — including Freddie Washington, Charles Mims, Paul M. Jackson, and Marlo Henderson (along with a still young Gerald Albright) — that went back to her earlier Elektra albums, the material here is as slick as ever, but not at the expense of lighter rhythms or less memorable melodies. Much of the album's popularity can be attributed to the club hit "Forget Me Nots," Rushen's most-known single — a breezy, buoyant mixture of handclaps, fingersnaps, twisting bass, and Rushen's typically blissful (and not overplayed) electric piano, not to mention the incorporation of a bad bass-and-percussion breakdown.
Quelle drôle d’idée a Mondonville ! D’après une fable de La Fontaine, aussi cruelle que tragique, il écrit un livret charmant, à la fin heureuse, et compose une aimable pastorale. Ici, contrairement à la fable, point de noblesse de cour mais celle du cœur : Daphnis, jeune berger se meurt d’amour pour Alcimadure, coquette villageoise éprise de liberté qui le dédaigne. Jeanet, frère de la belle, tente de la convaincre qu’il est le bienaimé idéal. Le loup qui terrorise le village s’en mêle. Tout va-t-il s’arranger à la fin ?
Hippolyte et Aricie was Rameau's first surviving lyric tragedy and is perhaps his most durable, though you wouldn't know it from the decades we had to wait for a modern recording. Now there are two: this one, conducted by Marc Minkowski, and William Christie's version on Erato. Choosing between the two is tough. Minkowski uses a smaller and probably more authentic orchestra, and with the resulting leaner sound, the performance has more of a quicksilver quality accentuated by Minkowski's penchant for swift tempos. His cast is excellent. The central lovers in the title are beautifully sung by two truly French voices, soprano Véronique Gens and especially the light, slightly nasal tenor of Jean-Paul Fourchécourt. In the pivotal role of the jealous Phèdre, Bernarda Fink is perfectly good but not in the exalted league of Christie's Lorraine Hunt. So there's no clear front-runner, but anyone interested in French Baroque opera must have at least one.