Olivier Gadal

Along with Wit's Naxos recording, this is one of the best versions of Messiaen's phantasmagoric Turangalîla-Symphonie available, and it's very different: swifter, more obviously virtuosic in concept, perhaps a touch less warm in consequence, and engineered with greater “in your face” immediacy. The playing of the Concertgebouw, always a wonderful Messiaen orchestra, is stunning throughout. Chailly revels in the music's weirdness. The Ondes Martinot, for example, is particularly well captured. It's interesting how earlier performances tended to minimize its presence, perhaps for fear that is would sound silly, which of course it does, redeemed by the composer's utter seriousness and obliviousness to anything that smacks of humor. In any case, it's not all noise and bluster. The Garden of Love's Sleep is gorgeous, hypnotic, but happily still flowing, while the three Turangalîla rhythmic studies have remarkable clarity. Jean-Yves Thibaudet plays the solo piano part magnificently, really as well as anyone else ever has.

Reinvented for cello and piano by two artists whose reputation is unequivocal, these Images oubliées paint a timeless portrait of a musical legend.

Original melodies by pianist and composer Louis Dominique Roy get their first airing on Rêves enclos, a new recording with baritone Olivier Laquerre. Roy’s songs are set to poems by some of Québec’s greatest poets, including Émile Nelligan, Alfred DesRochers, Arthur de Bussières, Hector de Saint-Denys-Garneau, and Gilles Vigneault. The composer accompanies Laquerre on these Québécois melodies, several of which also feature Sébastien Lépine, cello, and Louis-Philippe Marsolais, horn.

When, in 1931, Messiaen applied for his post as organist at La Trinité, he wrote to the curate to reassure him that he knew that ‘one must not disturb the piety of the faithful with wildly anarchic chords’. It is not known whether that curate was at La Trinité 20 years later, but it is hard to think of a more appropriate characterisation of the effect of Livre d’orgue than ‘wildly anarchic’, while Alexander Goehr has recalled how Messiaen’s organ-playing during the mid-1950s sounded like electronics. Michael Bonaventure’s playing may not have that effect, but he does get Messiaen’s music to lift off the page, even in the most rigorous pages of the Livre d’orgue. The organ of St Giles, Edinburgh, generally has the power and range of colour needed, with the fierce chords at the opening of ‘Les mains de l’abîme’ fizzing with tension. Slightly more power from the pedals would be welcome, notably in the dazzling central section of the fifth of the Méditations sur le mystère de la Sainte Trinité. Generally, though, this is a delight for the ears.

Une compilation d'oeuvres du grand Jean-Sbastien Bach pour son pouse. Un incontournable de toute bibliothque musicale ! Cadeau Anna Magdalena Bach de son poux Jean-Sbastien, ce petit livre deviendra vite un album familial. Leurs fils (Johann Christian, Carl Philipp Emanuel, Gottfried Heinrich) l'utilisent galement pour leurs essais de composition. Pour autant, ce livre est aussi ouvert aux autres compositeurs de l'poque. On y trouve des partitions pour clavier (principalement des menuets, marches et polonaises) mais aussi des chants et des chorals. Cet enregistrement est servi par certains des plus grands artistes actuels de l'art baroque rassembls autour du claveciniste Olivier Baumont : Anne Magout, Christine Plubeau, Aurlien Delage et Julien Chauvin.

These are the only concertos that Haydn wrote for himself to play: by his own admission ‘no great wizard’ on any instrument, nonetheless these agreeably tuneful early works show how Haydn’s nascent style was gaining shape and symphonic aspiration beyond the simple charm of Mozart’s superficially similar Church sonatas.

For all the celebrations to mark the tercentenary of Purcell’s death last year (1995), his keyboard music has remained very much in the shadow of his works for the theatre and Church; yet the simplicity and grace of these more intimate pieces make them immediately appealing. Several of them are, in fact, transcriptions of earlier vocal works, and therein lies the key to their interpretation. Of the two performers, Olivier Baumont is the more flamboyant, invariably choosing faster tempi than Sophie Yates, and playing with fluidity, panache and humour. But Yates’s guileless approach really captures the music’s ingenuousness, even if she occasionally sounds a little too strait-laced. Her harpsichord (a copy by Andrew Garlich of an instrument made in 1681 by Jean-Antoine Vaudry, now in London’s Victoria & Albert Museum) could hardly be better suited to the music, with its sweet, warm sound, beautifully reproduced by the Chandos engineers, who don’t make the all too frequent mistake of recording the instrument too close. Baumont’s harpsichord has a sharper tang, and he also uses a virginals for the Grounds and individual lessons. Both artists have much to offer, and the final choice will depend on whether you prefer your Purcell plain (Yates) or piquant (Baumont).

"A giant fresco, a kind of odyssey," is Bertrand Chamayou's description of Olivier Messiaen's piano masterwork, Vingt Regards sur L'Enfant-Jésus. Written in 1944, it is a monumental, mystical and iridescent sequence of 20 gazes or contemplations on the infant Jesus. Messiaen once wrote that "The drama of my life is that I have written religious music for an audience that has no faith." Bertrand Chamayou feels that the Vingt Regards "is a mystical rather than a religious experience… It arouses the same kind of awe as walking into a magnificent cathedral or seeing a glorious sunset. You feel that time stops." Chamayou first played the work in 2008, Messiaen's centenary year, but it has been part of his life since he was nine years old.

Stéphane Tétreault and Olivier Hébert-Bouchard present Images retrouvées, the second volume of works by Claude Debussy transcribed for cello and piano. The series was inaugurated in 2023 with the first volume, Images oubliées.