Certains s'étonneront de voir la note maximale décernée à un enregistrement où certains solistes accusent de sérieuses faiblesses, Ian Honeyman en particulier. Pourtant, il y a quelque chose de magique dans cette interprétation des petits motets de Couperin. D'abord, Henri Ledroit y est superlatif et signe sans doute l'un de ses meilleurs disques où l'on s'émerveille sur la clarté du timbre, la justesse dans l'aigu, la grâce dans le phrasé, la douceur de l'émission.
In addition to the traditional pairing of the Debussy and Ravel string quartets, the Arcanto Quartett performs Henri Dutilleux's Ainsi la Nuit (1971-1976), a grouping that is becoming increasingly popular on recordings. These are absolutely secure, thoughtful, self-effacing readings of the Debussy and the Ravel. While the quartet doesn't bring particular new revelations to the pieces, the members play with nuanced sensitivity and impeccable musicianship. The haunted quiet they achieve in the first part of the third movement of the Debussy is especially impressive, as is the clarity of their sense of direction and unity in the final movement, the most difficult of the four to pull off. Similarly in the Ravel, the contrast between the serenity of the third movement and the raw athleticism of the fourth is attention-grabbing and invigorating.
After the compulsory Gymnopédies, this turns out to be an above average Satie collection. Parade is performed with relish and a healthy dose of anarchy, with no attempt being made to blend the pistol shots into the texture of the orchestra. Rather than the more usual companion pieces of Mercure and Relâche, Yutaka Sado builds the remaining programme around La belle excentrique and Le piège de Méduse, opting for some of the music - hall - inspired works in between. Pieces like Je te veux and Poudre d ’ or are familiar in their piano or vocal versions, but rarely get outings in the arrangements for brasserie orchestra, making this a most desirable disc for Satie devotees.
French modern composer Henri. Henri Dutilleux (1916-2013), born in Angers, Maine-et-Loire, France, was active in the second half of the twentieth century. The work combines the styles of Ravel, Debussy and Albert Roussel, as well as the style of his own creation. In addition to being influenced by Impressionist music, he also used serialism and atonality to write.
Marais's Alcione is the last great 'tragedy' in music from the reign of Louis XIV. It is a total spectacle at the crossroads of the 17th and 18th centuries, from which it takes the mythological source, it's praise of the sovereign's glory and the literary requirement to combine choreography and stage movements. Jordi Savall rediscovered this work and brought it back to life for the first stage production in Paris since 1771.
Henri Salvador has the patina of a truly seasoned musician. His soft earthy voice shimmers like silky drops in the tropical sun. His placid sensual vocals put the listener at ease from the downbeat. In this finely crafted work, he continues in the same pleasurable vein, a mélange of jazz, tropical, and pop threads. He moves seamlessly from one style to another, as if he has done so for centuries.
Henri Salvador is an 89-year-old with an extraordinary history. Born in French Guyana, he moved to France as a child, joined a dance orchestra as guitarist, and ended up working in Brazil, where his songs would later influence the work of the great Tom Jobim - the greatest composer of the bossa nova era of the late 1950s. Salvador also became a celebrity, and a TV personality back in France, and he now seems poised for unlikely international success. This new set was recorded in Paris, New York and (of course) Rio, where his producer was the great Jacques Morelenbaum, who has worked with everyone from Jobim to Mariza; they were joined by Brazilian stars Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil. It's remarkable for Salvador's effortlessly clear, perfect vocals and equally unexpected range. Many of the songs are gently charming laid-back ballads, but there's also a swinging French-language treatment of Ray Charles, with Alleluia! Je l'Ai Dans la Peau. Alleluia, indeed.