Mark Padmore / Paul Lewis SCHUBERT Winterreise

Ah, this journey! How many have made it, sincerely and imaginatively, two setting out as nearly as possible as one! So many on records too, following the elusive track as with torchlight concentrated upon it. Yet, of all, I cannot think of one (not even Fischer-Dieskau in his 1965 recording with Jörg Demus) that leads more faithfully to the cold comfort of its end. And when we get there in this performance, what an end it is!

The journey begins with ever such a slight whine high in the voice, as with a calm acceptance of pain. The piano abstains from jabbing sforzandi to underline what the chords make plain enough, instead insisting calmly on its left-hand legato. The melting major-key modulation is all affection: no hint of bitterness in the sentiment that his passing footsteps should not disturb the faithless beloved’s sleep. But outside in the open, stillness and turbulence alternate like the moods of the weather-vane. And so throughout much of the trek the self-confiding of the loner holds in check the utterance of emotion as the icy surface of the river conceals the running water beneath. Even so the pain will out, as it does in the last phrase, “ihr Bild dahin”, of “Erstarrung”.

On we go, lulled and tormented by the magic music-box of “Frühlingstraum”, till the tragic chord before “so elend nicht” in “Einsamkeit” brings a dreadful reality into focus. The deceptive sweetness of “Die Krähe”, the giddy disorientation of “Letzte Hoffnung”, the subdued feverish excitements of “Täuschung” find an almost holy stability in “Das Wirtshaus”, but still the external world exists, felt as almost an intrusion in “Mut”. And soon we meet the organ-grinder. And his secrets must on no account be revealed by reviewer or arts-gossip. And the listener must wait, out of respect to this marvellous partnership of Mark Padmore and Paul Lewis, until time can be taken for it, alone and uninterrupted, to accompany them on the journey through to its unearthly end. (John Steane/ Gramophone)

Mark Padmore / Kristian Bezuidenhout SCHUBERT Winterreise

Only a few months after Florian Boesch’s second recording of Schubert’s great wintry song-cycle (Hyperion, A/17), here’s a second bite at the bitter cherry from another singer, albeit a very different one. With Mark Padmore at least there’s been a longer intervening period: it’s nine years since the release of his previous Winterreise, a 2010 Gramophone Award-winner, also on Harmonia Mundi. And there’s a major difference here, too, in that not only is Paul Lewis replaced by Kristian Bezuidenhout but a modern concert grand is switched for a Graf fortepiano.

As with the earlier recording, there’s a wealth of interest to be found at the keyboard. Here the instrument itself is beautifully mellow, with an especially tender con sordini sound as well as some brightness in the tone when required – not often, admittedly, in this most subdued of cycles. I love the hazy twang Bezuidenhout produces at the start of ‘Der Lindenbaum’, the wild clanging of the ‘Wetterfahne’ and the real sense he gives in ‘Die Krähe’ of the bird swirling ominously about. The melody of ‘Frühlingstraum’ is imbued with so much hope, that of ‘Der Leiermann’ with so little, its opening drone, played much as Lewis plays it, resembling less notes than just a pained, numb sound.

Bezuidenhout spreads his chords occasionally and offers a light sprinkling of ornaments, as does Padmore. And in the later stages of the cycle, in particular, the tenor offers singing of remarkable patience, control and concentration (listen to how he builds up ‘Das Wirtshaus’). The final songs are moving, and Padmore’s intelligence and seriousness are never in doubt, his interpretation always probing.

One notices, however, that the voice has lost some juice: he struggles to offer warmth to counter the blanched tone he employs elsewhere, while the lower register is underpowered. His German, too, is strangely affected, with vowels self-consciously opened up and consonants over-deliberate. The earlier recording, five minutes slower, features many of the same interpretative touches and characteristics, but they are more worrying here, less convincing. Matters are not helped, either, by engineering that places the voice in a strange quasi-ecclesiastical halo.

Padmore’s fans will no doubt snap his new recording up, but I’d otherwise recommend sticking with the earlier one, featuring Lewis’s warm, deeply human contribution at the keyboard. And if fortepiano’s what you need, head to Christoph Prégardien and Andreas Staier for something altogether more grounded, satisfying and idiomatic. (Hugo Shirley / Gramophone)

Mark Padmore / Britten Sinfonia / Jacqueline Shave BENJAMIN BRITTEN Serenade for Tenor, Horn & Strings - Nocturne GERALD FINZI Dies Natalis

Tenor Mark Padmore has an ideal voice for these two Britten song cycles written for Peter Pears. He has the kind of musical sensitivity and attentiveness to textual subtleties that characterized Pears' singing. His voice is essentially light in the way that Pears' was, but his is infinitely more attractive. Its tone is clear and pure, with none of Pears' nasal quality, and can be sweet without sounding precious. Padmore's technique seems absolutely secure and while his instrument is not large, he can produce an impressive range of dynamics. He and horn player Stephen Bell deliver a terrific performance of the Serenade for tenor, horn, and strings, and Jacqueline Shave's leadership of the Britten Sinfonietta is energetic and nuanced. Padmore's phrasing is shapely and expressive and he can spin out the seamless legato most of these songs require. In "Hymn," he and Bell sing and play with nimble fleetness that seems thrillingly close to the edge of spinning out of control but that ultimately lands safely. The performance of "Dirge" is charged with darker-than-usual sinister energy; the running string figures that follow the canon seem here more like a demonic dance than a dirge, to wonderful, scary effect. There is no lack of topnotch recordings of the Serenade, but this is a version that anyone who loves the piece will want to hear. In Nocturne, Padmore again excels in bringing intelligent and sensitive, sometimes soaring musicality to the songs. Finzi's cycle Dies Natalis is something of a novelty, but it fits well with the Britten. His harmonic language is eloquently post-Romantic, solidly in the English pastoral tradition, and his text setting relatively conventional, but the cycle is a lovely, lyrical, entirely successful exemplar of that tradition. Serenade, written about five years after Dies Natalis, demonstrates by contrast the daring individuality of Britten's handling of texts and the rich originality of his melodic gift. The sound of Harmonia Mundi's SACD is immaculate and detailed, with a gripping sense of presence. (Stephen Eddins)

Les inAttendus POETICAL HUMORS

Unexpected? The pairing of viola da gamba and accordion is certainly that! But perhaps even more surprising is how well the singing strings of the veteran instrument harmonize with the subtly vibrating reeds of the centuries-younger newcomer.

Also unexpected is this cross-generational meeting of two musicians (what are the odds?) who found each other exploring the ‘poetical humours’ of early-Seventeenth-century England.

Recently reunited in the recording studio after several seasons of rapturously received recitals, with this well-timed album the duo Les inAttendus makes its first entry into the harmonia mundi catalogue.

Les Cris de Paris / Geoffroy Jourdain MELANCHOLIA

A most unusual cabinet of curiosities: “Finding pleasure even in meditating on what causes one’s pain”: that neatly defines the theme of this album of music from the cusp of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth centuries. Here Italian and English madrigals rub shoulders with motets and Tenebrae responsories.

A melancholic poetry that provided endless nourishment for musical creativity in the late Renaissance and which Geoffroy Jourdain presents in his first recording for harmonia mundi.

Jean-Guihen Queyras VIVALDI Sonatas for Violoncello & Basso

“I think that in immersing myself in the world of these sonatas, I’ve probably taken a stroll down memory lane. We all carry within ourselves significant events that have structured our childhood, our imagination, sometimes our doubts, and when we decide, as performers, to concentrate our attention on a specific repertory, we’re often setting out in search of a part of ourselves that calls for new light to be shed on it. […] This music enveloped my everyday life, in a totally natural, familiar and almost organic way.” (Jean-Guihen Queyras) 

“These cello pieces, composed in the grip of the greatest inspiration, remind us of the extent to which the extravagant and emotional brilliance of Vivaldian (and Venetian) art reposes above all on a direct sensibility of the elements in their simplest, even crudest form. Pisendel once submitted an attempt at a concerto to his teacher. Vivaldi immediately divested it of half its notes: one must know how to leave enough space for the miracle to filter through.” (Olivier Fourés)

Christophe Rousset LOUIS COUPERIN Nouvelles Suites de Clavecin

The new Stradivari series from harmonia mundi allows listeners to explore the unique instruments lovingly preserved at the Philharmonie de Paris's Museum of Music. Thanks to the skill and commitment of the museum's conservators, these instruments are given a new life. On this release, the great Christophe Rousset plays a rare harpsichord crafted in 1652 by Ioannes Couchet. Through his virtuosity and the instruments sonority the sumptuousness and grace of Louis Couperin's Nouvelles Suites are clearly revealed.

Ensemble Dialoghi MOZART | BEETHOVEN Quintets for Piano and Winds

Authenticity: conforming to an original so as to reproduce essential features. Historically Informed Performance: an approach to the performance of classical music, which aims to be faithful to the approach, manner and style of the musical era in which a work was originally conceived. These two definitions, without reservations, certainly go hand in hand like whipped cream on pumpkin pie, with the Ensemble Dialoghi, a chamber music group made up of Spanish, Italian, and Canadian musicians. Except for the bassoon which itself dates from 1805, all the other instruments were crafted during the last ten years, but are built after period instruments from the late 18th century.

Attention - Do not adjust your system. On the contrary, it's your inner musical ear that requires adjusting and fine tuning on first listen. It took me a minute or two to "get" that the sound, and music, I was hearing were not only right, but accurately and expressively musical. I immediately pulled out, for comparison, my copy of the 1984 Sony recording featuring Murray Perahia on piano with members of the English Chamber Orchestra, a recording that up until now I considered to be exemplary. Lifeless, dull and uninvolved are my impressions of it now. What a sharp contrast between the two; not only sonically but also interpretatively. You can tell by the make-up and attire that the members of Ensemble Dialoghi are sporting on the CD cover and on their website, that they consider themselves to be more like buskers, minstrels or saltimbanques rather than just simply musicians. Their motto is "chamber music as a way of communicating", and they certainly go out of their way to project the composer's spirit, and inherent joy and beauty within the music, to the audience, as if they were staging a dramatic presentation.

If Wolfgang and Ludwig were still alive today they would most likely exclaim: "Wow, this sounds just like the good ol' days!" (Jean-Yves Duperron)