Fasolis La Senna Festeggiante

There's only one problem with this otherwise excellently played and recorded program: a certain lack of dynamic range that makes all of the slow movements come across as a bit too loud. To some degree this is a general limitation of the harpsichord itself, and it must be said in this respect that Francesco Cera plays an attractive-sounding instrument, with a bright, clean tone that's never excessively clattery or fatiguing. Indeed, his clarity of articulation even at a propulsive main tempo, as in the first movement of the D minor concerto, is thoroughly admirable, but I would have liked a touch less aggression especially in the slow movements of the two major-key works. Diego Fasolis and the string players of I Barocchisti deliver precise, boldly phrased accompaniments, and their timbre isn't "authentic" in an annoying sense. In the allegros these performances really are exciting.

Russian Julia Lezhneva here shows an admirably gutsy attitude toward developing her repertory, avoiding familiar milestones in favor of an original project. Here she is paired with French countertenor Philippe Jaroussky in a program of works by Pergolesi for two high voices, strings, and continuo: the Stabat mater, for which there are plenty of other recordings, and the less-common Laudate pueri dominum and Confitebor tibi Domine. The distinctive feature here – which might tempt some to use the word "gimmick," but listen before doing so – is that Lezhneva fashions her voice into a very close copy of Jaroussky's, which is not at all an easy thing to do. Put this together with the precise, rather edgy playing of I Barocchisti under Diego Fasolis, and the result is a rather otherworldly Stabat mater.

Diego Fasolis and his Swiss-Italian forces give a committed, full-blooded performance, with accomplished work from chorus and soloists. The F major Symphony 'in 17 parts' of 1809-Gossec's last symphony-is longer on ceremonial bustle and colourful wind scoring (entertainingly cavorting clarinets in the finale) than on truly memorable invention. But the Larghetto has an agreeable pastoral charm and one striking harmonic purple patch, while the C minor minuet surprises with its unremitting contrapuntal severity. Recommended to the adventurous, who will be rewarded by some fascinating and -in the Requiem-loftily imposing music.

Max Emanuel Cencic accurately describes himself as a mezzo-soprano rather than a counter tenor. His tone, while pure, is colorfully nuanced, nothing like the blanched purity that was once (but is thankfully no longer) stereotypical of counter tenors. A lifetime of singing the most advanced repertoire has given him a confident technique, exceptionally sure intonation, astonishing vocal power, and an effortless-sounding flexibility; at the age of six he sang the Queen of the Night's "Der Hölle Rache on Zagreb" television, and he went on to become a soloist with the Vienna Boys' Choir. On this album he tackles some of Handel's most virtuosic and demanding mezzo arias, most of them relatively unfamiliar. /quote]

Conductor Diego Fasolis and his Coro della Radio Svizzera always can be counted on for a very good show, and this one, featuring two well-known if not necessarily top-drawer Handel works, is no exception. The early Dixit Dominus, with its Vivaldian "De torrente in via" movement and other Italian stylistic elements, is appropriately lively and crisply articulated in the fast sections and fully indulgent of the slow passages, allowing us to hear in gorgeous detail the promising signs of Handel's germinating genius.

Star countertenor Philippe Jaroussky continues his exploration of operatic settings of the Orpheus myth with the most famous of the many operas inspired by the story of the Greek poet who searches for his dead wife in the Underworld: Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice. It contains one of the world's best-loved operatic arias, Orfeo's restrained, but moving lament, 'Che farò senza Euridice'.

The six cantatas come alive in Fasolis' no nonsense readings that are swift and energetic but never lose sight of the big picture. The famous opening sequence of the First Cantata sets the tone for proceedings which move along quite merrily; particular praise is here due to the Swiss radio Chorus who are infectious in their full throated and high spirited singing.

Some albums exist outside of time or place, gently floating on their own style and sensibility. Of those, the La’s lone album may be the most beguiling, a record that consciously calls upon the hooks and harmonies of 1964 without seeming fussily retro, a trick that anticipated the cheerful classicism of the Brit-pop ’90s. But where their sons Oasis and Blur were all too eager to carry the torch of the past, Lee Mavers and the La’s exist outside of time, suggesting the ’60s in their simple, tuneful, acoustic-driven arrangements but seeming modern in their open, spacy approach, sometimes as ethereal as anything coming out of the 4AD stable but brought down to earth by their lean, no-nonsense attack, almost as sinewy as any unaffected British Invasion band.

“The Impossible Symphony “Shows once again how limitless Arturo Márquez’s musical imagination is,” says Alondra de la Parra. “The way he addresses the big questions of our time here is absolutely stunning in its scope and quality. Taking the fifth movement, ‘Magicicada’, as an example, Márquez is inspired by the empathy shown by two species of cicadas that tune into each other’s life cycles to allow both species to thrive. He represents these two cicadas in the score with flute and double bass as they cohabit around each other until their lines meet on D, the only note they have in common. Gender equality is the inspiration of the third movement, reminding us of the additional struggles that society imposes on women in their daily lives. This is represented by two cellos, male and female, playing in canon, but the conditions are more difficult for the woman, since her part is octaved.