Les Miserablez

André-Ernest-Modeste Grétry’s three-act opera Guillaume Tell was first performed in 1791 at the Salle Favart of the Comédie-Italienne in Paris. The opera deals with the Swiss fight for freedom in the 14th century against the domination of the Habsburgs. The story of Wilhelm Tell is well-known.

The dance permeated every layer of Romantic society. From popular dance halls to courtly salons, people showed their public face, enjoyed themselves and met one another in waltz time or to the rhythms of the quadrille or the polka. At the same time, ballet gained unprecedented fame on the stage of the Paris Opéra. The music that accompanied this frantic round in France has long been neglected, whereas the Viennese have never ceased to celebrate their waltzes. Under the expert baton of François-Xavier Roth, the orchestra Les Siècles has set out to rediscover this French repertory using historical instruments. Their album explores the output of both established composers – Camille Saint-Saëns, Ambroise Thomas, Charles Gounod, Jules Massenet – and their colleagues who specialised in Terpsichorean entertainment, including Philippe Musard, Isaac Strauss, Émile Waldteufel and Hervé.

After two recordings devoted to the harpsichord pieces of Savoyard composer Pancrace Royer, Christophe Rousset, this time conducting, turns to the composer's orchestral suites. Taken from Royer's operatic works and (with the exception of a live version of Pyrrhus) never previously recorded, these choreographic pieces reveal a new facet of the composer. The brilliance and virtuosity of his harpsichord compositions are well known; here we discover his gift for refinement and lyricism. These dances show Royer's singular sense of harmony and fine use of orchestral contrasts, as well as an almost whimsical rhetoric of the unexpected. Some of his best-known pieces, including the famous "March of the Scythians" from Zaïde, are to be heard here in their orchestral form. This recording will undoubtedly further the rediscovery of this iconoclastic composer, whose very personal style and innate sense of drama are given striking depth and relief here under the baton of Christophe Rousset.

Guilty of allowing the sacred fire to go out while declaring her love to the general Licinius, the Vestal Virgin Julia is sentenced to be buried alive. But her execution is averted by a divine intervention, which rekindles the altar flame and absolves the victim. The simple plot of Gaspare Spontini’s La Vestale achieved resounding success in 1807 thanks to the highly skilled treatment of the characters’ psychology and the transparency of the political allusions – Licinius is an allegory of Napoleon Bonaparte himself. Yet the work is more than a mere piece of propaganda: it represents one of the links between the tragédie lyrique of the Ancien Régime and the future grand opéra à la française, even anticipating Bellinian bel canto.

Forty-two songs cut between November 1940 and August 1946, and the perfect companion to Bear Family's It's Magic box set – anyone who's been even tempted to own that will have to get this more modestly priced precursor to that material. Day's period singing with Les Brown is, today, regarded with a degree of love and affection reserved for Ella Fitzgerald's era with Chick Webb, or Frank Sinatra's work with Harry James and Tommy Dorsey. Yet Sony Music's own releases devoted to Doris Day and Les Brown spread the music around to several different CDs, and suffered from sound that, today, seems substandard. These newly remastered tracks, offered in chronological order, including one previously unissued song ("Are You Still in Love with Me"), not only display a far richer, warmer sound, but have been presented with the kind of care that is normally reserved for the best parts of a label's catalog – which these sides definitely are. Day's voice during this period (she was 16 when she cut her first sides with Brown) was an astonishingly expressive instrument.

The notion of interpretation constantly raises the question of how to read a score, and therefore of the very subject matter of the score. Particularly in the Baroque period, and especially in the seventeenth-century, the score is but an infrastructure that the composer leaves behind to allow his work to be brought to life. One should not be led astray by it as you might by a trompel'œil; it lacks a great deal of information: nuances, instrumentation, ornaments, playing styles, etc. The majority of these composers thus leave the performers a great deal of latitude for the completion of their scores in order to bring them to back to life.

The violinist and composer Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber (1644–1704) was a celebrated Kapellmeister at the court of Archbishop Max Gandolph of Salzburg. Present-day audiences tend to think of him first and foremost as the author of anthologies of spectacular violin music such as his Rosary Sonatas of around 1670 and his Sonatas for solo violin of 1681. But attitudes to these works were initially devastatingly dismissive. In 1927, the eighth – posthumous – edition of Wilhelm Joseph von Wasielewski’s seminal Die Violine und ihre Meister appeared with revisions by the author’s son, Waldemar, and assured its readers that only “some” of these pieces were of “lasting musical merit”.