Opening with a few bars of Stravinsky to set the adoring crowd on its feet, this once-three-LP set is Yes at their finest. This was, after all, probably the most mainstream act that had even provisional "prog rock" status, and their tunes show it. While "Heart of the Sunrise" may be one of the more modestly titled Yes songs (compare it with "The Six Wives of Henry VIII" or "The Fish (Schindleria Praematurus)" or even "Total Mass Retain"), it also bears marks of the band playing at its most frenetic pace around Jon Anderson's soaring near-falsetto. Rick Wakeman's grand synthesizer flashes are more than textural, finding visual meshes aplenty with Roger Dean's cryptic cover art–most of which is shrunken or absent on this two-CD reissue…
The key components to every great prog-rock album comprise memorable guitar riffs, punchy immediacy that draws you into the song, ample rhythmic kick, and the imaginative capacity to transport the listener to a place well beyond the confines of reality. Yes’ The Yes Album features all of these rare qualities and more, the 1971 record as significant for saving the band’s career as well as for establishing new parameters in virtuosic technicality and skilled composition. The first set recorded with guitarist Steve Howe, it remains Yes’ grandest achievement and claims a musical vision the British quintet’s contemporaries struggled to match…
Scarlatti and the mandolin: this album provides a fascinating and unusual encounter between one of the most important composers of the baroque period and an instrument that originated in Naples and enjoyed great popularity throughout Europe, especially in Paris and in other European capitals during the 18th century. The Pizzicar Galante ensemble, founded in Paris in 2012 by mandolinist Anna Schivazappa and harpsichordist Fabio Antonio Falcone, reveals hidden aspects of these musical gems from the Italian Baroque.
The biggest surprise on this wonderfully exuberant and exhilarating disc comes with the very first notes: the piano tone is rich and full, worlds away from the slightly distant, musical-box tone that is often thought appropriate for recordings of Domenico Scarlatti's sonatas on a modern concert grand. But as the soundworld suggests, Tharaud is totally unapologetic about playing these pieces – all originally composed for harpsichord even though the earliest fortepianos were in circulation in Scarlatti's time – on a piano. In the sleevenotes, Tharaud says that of the four baroque keyboard composers that he has recorded so far – Bach, Couperin, Rameau and now Scarlatti – it's the last whose music is most suited to this treatment. His selection of sonatas is chosen for maximum variety, with a group in which the Spanish inflections of flamenco and folk music can be heard, others in which he gets a chance to show some dazzling technique, alongside those in which the playfulness is replaced by profound introspection.
In several respects, Christophe Rousset gives a well-balanced performance of Bach's French Suites. He finds a balance between a straightforward, technical reading and a more expressive one that takes liberties with timing and ornamentation. He brings out themes with a lyric sensibility, and he acknowledges the importance of countermelodies and the interaction of musical lines. The Sarabande of the Suite No. 6 is full of ornamentation, yet Rousset can still bring out a melody with a sense of forward direction that isn't interrupted by the ornaments. The Gigue of the Suite No. 5 is technically brilliant and musically delightful as all of the various parts come together in a lively manner.