This is an excellent Rachmaninoff programme, taking us from the high romance of the relatively early Suite No. 1 to the composer’s last opus numbered work, the Symphonic Dances. The Suite No. 1 is a very fine work, and this duo plays gorgeously in that sighing third movement Les larmes. The spectacular finale, Pâques rings out spectacularly, the powerful tone of the well paired pianos delivering a remarkable listening experience.
Central to Hélène Grimaud's first live album for Deutsche Grammophon is the significance she finds in the slow movement of the Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major, K. 488, of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. This movement is a touchstone for her, insofar as she regards it as the most sublime music, "where you find the real Mozart." She has also stated, "Even if this movement were all we had, that would be enough." Because of the emphasis Grimaud places on this poignant Adagio in F sharp minor, listeners may be tempted to cut to the chase and skip the other tracks to hear her interpretation.
Hélène Grimaud's performances on this disc a coupling of Beethoven "Emperor" Piano Concerto with his Piano Sonata in A major, Op. 101 are truly fantastic. Her technique is essentially untouchable and her tone is surprisingly colorful. And, as in her previous recordings, her interpretations are outrageous. With Vladimir Jurowski and the Dresden Staatskapelle in the Concerto, Grimaud is unafraid to do whatever she wants with balance and tempos.
A superficial view may regard Offenbach’s lightweight masterpiece, La belle Hélène, as „merely“ an opera buffa. But closer scrutiny of this charming, imaginative firework of intrigue makes one thing clear: the story of the Greek queen who started off the Trojan war is, in this version, a humorous and satirical caricature of the vulgar, decadent Parisian upper classes of Offenbach’s own day. Who better suited to produce a modern rendering of this work than the now highly acclaimed Nikolaus Harnoncourt, who also ensured the work’s historical accuracy? Employing a small string section, shining, colourful brass and richly varied percussion, the opera still strikes one as exceptionally modern. This impression is also enhanced by the designers of the production, recorded in 1997 at the Zurich Opera House: no less a figure than the fashion designer Jean–Charles de Castelbajac was responsible for the humorously expansive costumes; and the highly subtle stage–set was the work of Paolo Pivas.
Gloire au Centre de musique baroque de Versailles qui nous a fait redécouvrir Henry Desmarest, l'un des plus étonnants compositeurs du règne de Louis XIV. À vingt ans à peine, il osa braver Lully sur son propre terrain, en montant un opéra et un divertissement à la cour du Roi-Soleil. Plus tard, avec son aîné Marc-Antoine Charpentier, il fut l'un des principaux acteurs du renouveau d'un opéra français en manque de vrais succès depuis la mort de Quinault et Lully. On croyait indûment tout savoir de ce maître de musique. C'était compter sans le talent de défricheur du label français K.617, qui a trouvé en Nouvelle-Orléans les traces d'un baroque français "exporté", estampillé du nom de Desmarest, entre autres.