Gramophone Magazine Editor's Choice

“The cantata or serenata a 3 (for three), Aci,Galatea e Polifemo, dates from Handel's visit to Naples in 1708, and it has almost nothing in common, except for its subject matter, with his exquisite English pastoral, Acis and Galatea for the Duke of Chandos's house at Cannons of 1718. As with so many of his Italian compositions, Handel used this enchanting creation of his youth as a sort of melody bank, lifting whole arias for insertion into his subsequent operas, so even if there are Handelians new to this work some of the music won't be entirely unfamiliar. Aci, cast originally, one presumes, with a high soprano castrato, has two sublime arias, 'Qui l'augel da pianta in pianta' and his dying lament, 'Verso già l'alma col sangue' ('My soul pours out with my blood'). Both belong to Handel's most ravishing early inspirations, the first a simile aria in which the soprano voice 'competes' with birdsong supplied by oboe and violin solos, the second a wonderfully evocative representation of the dying hero's throbbing heart and intense anguish. This is topflight stuff, and Aci's music is superbly sung by Sandrine Piau with her brilliant, steely yet still sweet soprano, used with quasi-instrumental technical accomplishment. Even though Galatea's music, written for a contralto, is less interesting, the Arcadian nymph is cast with the best singer here, the wonderful Sara Mingardo, one of the truly sublime Handelians of our time, who brings a dark sensuality to her love music and a heartbreaking outpouring of grief in the recative following Aci's death.
Haïm's spirited and imaginative direction, her singers and a pristine modern recording weigh the balance in favour of this set.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“The mean old saying, 'Those who can, do, and those who can't, teach', would have withered in the presence of Stanford; and no doubt one of the reasons why he was such a great teacher is that he could and did, and so set an example. His C major services (Morning, Evening and Communion, all included in this programme) are so eminently the works of a master who knows how to get from here to there in one move, to keep always something in reserve for later use but never to write without a good clear melodic idea in the first place. Everything in this programme has freshness and well-founded assurance. It's music with clarity of purpose: it knows where it's going and doesn't put a foot wrong.
Under Christopher Robinson, the choir has enjoyed a period in which the distinguishing mark has been a renewed vitality of style. It's well caught in this CD. The start of the first track, the C major Te Deum, has it straightaway – the praise carries spirit and conviction. The final track opens still more strikingly. This is For lo, I will raise up, for which Stanford, writing in 1914, set his imagination free to bestir the choir-stalls into an almost fiercely dramatic life. The St John's choir bite into the words with relish, while the acoustic and their well-judged tempo reinforce the rhythmic energy of the passage.
Even in the best-stocked collection this would prove a welcome addition, and for those who have as yet nothing of the master, it should provide a lively introduction.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“Both enlightening and immensely rewarding” - Erik Levi, BBC Music Magazine

“Symmetry, the cyclic evolution of a musical germ and the idea of birth in the midst of death: all are fundamental to this disc. Webern's motivically determined orchestration of the Ricercar from Bach's late TheMusical Offering, where single lines change colour by the bar, opens and closes the programme.
Christoph Poppen's orchestration of Webern's 1905 String Quartet soars and surges with an ardour that befits this early but significant masterpiece.
Like Webern in Bach, Poppen knows how and where to taper his forces, while his players respond with obvious dedication. Bach's Cantata Christ lag in Todesbanden grows, as Herbert Glossner reminds us, from a 'primordial cell' of a single semitone motive. Eight stanzas each end with a 'Halleluja', as unalike in shade and meaning as the strands of Webern's 'Ricercar', so magnificent is the young Bach's handling of the texts. Poppen performs choral Bach with single voices; he also encourages a string playing style that largely dispenses with vibrato, so that when you cross from Webern's Quartet to Bach's BWV4 you could as well be switching to a period performance. The Hilliards sing beautifully, both solo and in ensemble, and the balance between voices and instruments is impeccable.
Some might balk at the sudden eruption of Webern's violent 'Heftig betwegt' on the heels of Bach's closing 'Halleluja', but the musical sense of having five 'symmetrical' Movements for String Quartet fall within the greater symmetry of the programme as a whole overrides any initial discomfort. Again, Poppen's finely tooled reading focuses in precise detail the mood and texture of each miniature so that the eventual return of Bach- Webern is indeed like a profound thought revisited by a changed mind.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“A valuable survey of three early Bowen offerings fashioned for that great British violist, Lionel Tertis (1876-1975). Not surprisingly, given Tertis's phenomenal technique and tone-production, each piece here makes exceptional demands. Happily, James Boyd is fully equal to the task. What's more, he forges a marvellously eloquent alliance with Bengt Forsberg, their playing brimful of affectionate understanding while retaining a sense of freshness in discovery.
Both sonatas date from 1905 and were premiered at London's Aeolian Hall by Tertis, with the 21-year-old composer at the piano, in May 1905 and February 1906 respectively.
Described by its dedicatee as 'a vivacious and light-hearted work', the First Sonata comprises an expansive and confident Allegro moderato, a songful slow movement in ternary form (whose principal melody hints at Lowell Mason's 1856 hymntune for Nearer, my God, to Thee) and an unusually meaty finale, where sheer high spirits win out in the end. Its F major successor follows pretty much the same pattern, though the slow movement now quarries a darker vein of expression, while the concluding Allegro giocoso yields plenty of opportunity for cheeky display. Boasting admirable sound and balance, this is a gem of a disc.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

Stott plays both concertos with aplomb but also with an understandable wariness of their superficiality, coaxing out their lyricism but playing down their brilliance… (Fanfare)