Roussel

Written between 1902 and 1937, these are stylistically diverse works of Albert Roussel, ranging from the Romantic to the Impressionist to the neo-classical. Roussel is always melodically attractive, formally inventive, technically brilliant, and harmonically appealing. In these consistently strong and persuasive performance by a variety of mostly Dutch musicians, Roussel's rarely heard chamber works sound as fine as is imaginable.

The fact that Roussel's four symphonies aren't better known is a pity, but surely the fault of his own countrymen. Symphonies were never a French specialty, and of the four great French practitioners of the symphonic art at the first decades of this century (Honegger, Roussel, Tournemire, and Magnard), only Honegger seems to have firmly established himself in the international repertoire. While Roussel's Third was championed by conductors like Charles Munch and Leonard Bernstein, even in France the remaining works are neglected. They are, however, one and all, excellently crafted pieces: tuneful, pithy, and very listenable. If you like one, you'll like them all; so this first-rate set is both good listening and good sense.

Night is falling. In this twilight of the reign of Louis XIV and at the end of his Grand Coucher, the king is at last free from protocol. He then orders the musicians of the Kings Chamber, to come to him; they are the most excellent in the kingdom. These Petits Concerts which were held in the evening before His Majesty enabled the king to hear his preferred repertoire from all that he had loved and even danced to. Here is the Sleep scene from Lullys Atys, the Sombres Deserts by Lambert, the Mutine by Visee, the Grande Piece Royale by Lalande, A Gigue by Marais, La Plainte by La Barre Thibaut Roussel has gathered around him the finest interpreters of the French baroque repertoire, to give us, as if in a walking dream, the intimate music of this Coucher du Roi. Let the night last, sings Le Camus, right up until Couperins Land of Dodo.

Behold Orpheus, the singing shepherd who braved the Underworld to bring back Eurydice. The only human to conquer death, this famous Thracian bard is the hero of the French cantatas that flourished between 1710 and 1730. They paint a picture of the faithful husband’s burning ardour and pleas, his hypnotic song that won over the King of Darkness, his furtive glance that would forever rob him of his beloved; these are miniature operas, their intense poignancy rendered by the chamber choir that magnificently envelops the singer. This fine team masterfully weaves a tapestry of emotions, the early gems of the Rocaille period, offering a sequel to the Coucher du Roi with which they gifted us two years ago. This truly is the spirit of Versailles.

Behold Orpheus, the singing shepherd who braved the Underworld to bring back Eurydice. The only human to conquer death, this famous Thracian bard is the hero of the French cantatas that flourished between 1710 and 1730. They paint a picture of the faithful husband’s burning ardour and pleas, his hypnotic song that won over the King of Darkness, his furtive glance that would forever rob him of his beloved; these are miniature operas, their intense poignancy rendered by the chamber choir that magnificently envelops the singer. This fine team masterfully weaves a tapestry of emotions, the early gems of the Rocaille period, offering a sequel to the Coucher du Roi with which they gifted us two years ago. This truly is the spirit of Versailles.

It’s simple: [Järvi] takes the lunacy [in the Ibert] to an inspired new level, from the very first ear-splitting trombone raspberry. The Tapiola Sinfonietta…plays with guts, virtuosity, and madcap inspiration.