je Dis Oui

«Sur les 23 000 "Justes parmi les nations", il n'y a pas un seul Arabe et pas un musulman de France ou du Maghreb. C'est étonnant quand on connaît les liens séculaires qui ont uni les communautés juive et musulmane. Alors, j'ai décidé de chercher. Pendant deux ans et demi, j'ai défriché des documents, suivi toutes les pistes possibles, tenté de recueillir des témoignages. On m'a souvent répété : "Mais les témoins sont morts aujourd'hui." J'ai exhumé des archives, écouté des souvenirs, même imprécis, et retrouvé de vraies histoires …

The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice is one of opera's most potent archetypes, the subject of the earliest experiments in the genre by Peri and Monteverdi. But Offenbach's wickedly witty operetta uses it as a vehicle to lampoon stuffy artistic conventions as well as the social and political realities of Paris in the Second Empire. In this sublimely ridiculous scenario, Eurydice is a flighty flirt only too happy to be separated from husband Orpheus, a dullard violin teacher, when Pluto kidnaps her into his realm.

Throughout her career, most of Françoise Hardy's arrangements have tended toward the lush, though in a good way. La Question is lush too, but it's one of her most sparsely produced efforts, usually finding her voice accompanied by little more than an acoustic guitar, touches of bass, and very subtle orchestration.

THE FIRST OF THE TWELVE discs in this collection of Anna Moffo’s RCA recital recordings begins with a 1960 performance of the jewel song from Gounod’s Faust, and that selection, along with the others on this disc, sets out the singer’s basic assets and liabilities. It’s a fresh lyric sound - Moffo was twenty-eight that year - ven throughout the range, accurate in pitch and coloratura, with a good try at a trill.

THE FIRST OF THE TWELVE discs in this collection of Anna Moffo’s RCA recital recordings begins with a 1960 performance of the jewel song from Gounod’s Faust, and that selection, along with the others on this disc, sets out the singer’s basic assets and liabilities. It’s a fresh lyric sound—Moffo was twenty-eight that year—even throughout the range, accurate in pitch and coloratura, with a good try at a trill. She phrases with musicality but not much nuance or variety of color. These qualities serve her and the music well in the coloratura fireworks of the shadow song from Meyerbeer’s Dinorah; “Bel raggio,” from Rossini’s Semiramide; and the bell song from Delibes’s Lakmé, all of which she tosses off with ease. Micaela’s aria from Carmen, however, demands more emotional thrust, while her Mimì and Liù are bland and anonymous.