Charles Xii

Before turning his attention to opera, Puccini wrote a number of wonderful works that are perhaps less well known, even if they already put his full genius on show. This is particularly true of the astonishing Messa di Gloria, whose evocative power and shimmering colours well deserve the exceptional cast on this recording. Indeed, a special passion inspires the soloists and chorus gathered around Gustavo Gimeno and the Orchestre Philharmonique du Luxembourg.

Modest Mussorgsky was a man of great friendships and great loyalties. When his friend the Russian painter Victor Hartman died in 1873 of a heart ailment at the age of thirty-nine, Mussorgsky's grief knew no limits. Hartman's drawings and pastels, all in a style très russe, were exhibited in a St. Petersburg gallery shortly after his death, and Mussorgsky decided to pay a musical tribute to his friend by writing a suite for piano, setting to music selected paintings from Hartman's exhibition. This suite, published under the tide Pictures at an Exhibition, became very popular, and acquired an even greater popularity through Maurice Ravel's dazzling orchestration.

A trim, at times, almost balletic Falstaff. If that seems a ludicrous contradiction, I should explain that it refers to Dutoit's spirited interpretation of the work, not the central character, though Falstaff himself has shed a few pounds in the process but is no less loveable. Indeed, Dutoit's swift tempo for the second section (at the Boar's Head) has the theme for Falstaff's 'cheerful look and pleasing eye' sounding less like Tovey's understandable misunderstanding of it as ''blown up like a bladder with sighing and grief''. The trimming down process is abetted by the Montreal sound, with lean, agile strings and incisive brass (the horns are magnificent). Some may feel a lack of warmth in the characterization. I certainly felt that the first presentation of Prince Harry's theme (0'40'') could have done with a richer string sonority. Doubtless, too, there will be collectors who, at moments, miss the generous humanity of Barbirolli, or the Straussian brilliance of Solti. And although Mackerras is wonderful in the dream interludes and Falstaff's death, the start of his fourth section, with Falstaff's rush to London only to be rejected by the new King, is short on teeming excitement and anticipation. (Gramophone)

Ivory keys worn by two centuries of passionate musicians tell a story of musical evolution on SCARLATTI SONATAS, an album of previously unrecorded solo harpsichord sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti, Antonio Soler, and an unidentified composer. Performed today by pianist Charles Metz, these works were first adapted for performance on the pianoforte in 1791 by Muzio Clementi, who breathed new life into Scarlatti’s timeless work with marked dynamics, articulations, and more. While Metz’s choice of repertoire holds ample historical significance, so does the instrument he employs to perform them — an 1806 square piano built by Clementi himself.

At the end of an overlong day laden with teaching and other duties, Edward Elgar lit a cigar, sat at his piano and began idling over the keys. To amuse his wife, the composer began to improvise a tune and played it several times, turning each reprise into a caricature of the way one of their friends might have played it or of their personal characteristics. "I believe that you are doing something which has never been done before," exclaimed Mrs. Elgar. Thus was born one of music's great works of original conception, and Elgar's greatest large-scale "hit": the Enigma Variations. The enigma is twofold: each of the 14 variations refers to a friend of Elgar's, who is depicted by the nature of the music, or by sonic imitation of laughs, vocal inflections, or quirks, or by more abstract allusions.