For the first time, we asked our readers to vote for their favourite artists. Combined with our critics’ votes, this is who you chose. Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per month Subscribe Already a subscriber? Log in

Messiaen’s masterwork goes for the lot: rocks, birds and throws in the song of the star Aldebaran for good measure. Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per month Subscribe Already a subscriber? Log in

The critics have spoken and the results are in. Here are Limelight's five top recordings of 2015.

The chart-topping king of the Viennese waltz boasts a global following of millions, but how does his latest record measure up? Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per month Subscribe Already a subscriber? Log in

Recording of the Month – January/February 2016 How wonderful for an organisation to be celebrating 200 years of performing The Creation! Part One of Haydn’s masterpiece was performed in Boston on Christmas Day, 1815 by the Handel and Haydn Society to a rapt audience of about 1,000 people. It’s hard to imagine how the 13 instrumentalists on that occasion coped with Haydn’s colourful score and supported the chorus of 90 men and ten women, but the pioneering spirit of that performance has born lasting fruit: H+H is still going strong, as this excellent recording attests. Harry Christophers, the current Artistic Director of Boston’s Handel and Haydn Society eschews the ‘blockbuster’ approach of Paul McCreesh’s 2008 account and opts instead for medium-sized forces: a chorus of 42 accompanied by an orchestra of 47 that perform in Boston’s hallowed Symphony Hall. This means that tempi are on the whole slightly more flowing and less monumental, allowing some of the more intimate moments to shine through. Haydn’s English text has always been troublesome. Christophers adopts a less interventionist approach than McCreesh, with the happy result we still have some favourite turns of phrase: the “flexible tiger”, “with verdure clad” and “the wonder of his…

The Canberra Symphony Orchestra’s chief conductor bags a nod in the world’s most revered music awards.

The eminent conductor has announced his withdrawal from the concert platform on the eve of his 86th birthday.

I’ve always wondered whether Shostakovich’s Ninth began life as an ironically subversive take on the superstition surrounding Ninth symphonies. It clearly wasn’t what the authorities were expecting as a crowning glory of the so-called ‘Wartime Trilogy’ with the sublime Eighth and the interminable and bombastic Leningrad.  The famous description of it as “Haydnesque in proportion and Rossiniesque in wit” is captured by Gergiev and his Mariinisky forces. I love the constant subversion in the Largo, the only even partly “serious” movement where the funeral march initiated by the bassoon is subverted by… the bassoon. The rag-tag cartoonish quality is also heard to great effect in the finale where we suddenly get a Soviet Army Band appearing.   The First Violin Concerto is an interesting companion: it’s hard to imaging anything more starkly contrasted. Kavakos has shed his wunderkind image and turns in a wonderfully subtle performance, especially in the spectral Nocturne opening movement, surely the most sinister nocturne in all music. I agree with other reviewers in remarking on his restrained volume here but I think it works, like the delicacy of his tone. No one will ever surpass either Oistrakh or Vengerov in his 1994 recording but Kavakos embodies…

This final installment of Rumon Gamba’s six discs exploring the orchestral work of turn of the (last) century French composer Vincent d’Indy – whose aesthetic pitched up somewhere between César Franck and Richard Wagner – is probably not the best place to gain an entry-point. Fans will be happy to have a new recording of Wallenstein, the composer’s three-part pseudo-symphony inspired by a rather vainglorious poem by Schiller. The 1976 recording by Pierre Dervaux and the Orchestre de la Loire remains the go-to, but Gamba’s Iceland forces are captured with intimate depth, brass pushed slightly forwards in the mix; d’Indy liked nothing better than a brass fanfare, so such sonic gerrymandering is acceptable. The piece itself, though, is remarkably unremarkable. Given d’Indy’s pedigree as a disciple of Franck and Wagner, his attempts to create a Franckian cyclic structure deploying Wagnerian motifs as staging posts flounder because his melodic and gestural hooks feel so unmemorable and generic. Elsewhere, Bryndís Hall Gylfadóttir’s sweet and effervescent playing sells d’Indy’s folksy Lied for cello and orchestra. But you can see why the monochrome Sérénade et Valse, Suite dans le Style Ancien and Prelude to Act III of his opera Fervaal remain historical curios.

This remarkable film was a hit when released in 1995, garnering an armful of awards and making a squillion at the box office; a triumph for Australian filmmaking. George Miller and Chris Noonan used an imaginative mix of animation, live action and animatronics to create a convincing world of talking animals and drama. The enterprise was helped on its merry way by Nigel Westlake’s fine score, in which he primarily drew on Saint-Saëns’ organ symphony. I use the word ‘merry’ purposefully, as the noble theme of the story and the way it plays out is joyful. Dare I say, heartfelt? Quick grab a tissue!  There are passing glances at other classical composers such as Grieg, Bizet, Fauré and Delibes; whose Pizzicati from Sylvia is used to great effect. Westlake uses this source material creatively and often with humour (even Jingle Bells gets a look in) leaving the great theme by Saint-Saëns as the musical binding for this life-affirming story. The playful arrangement of this big tune for Farmer Hoggett’s dance in the last track is a sheer delight.  Westlake’s skill as a composer is matched by his brilliant orchestration (and in the world of composition the two skills are not…

Editor’s Choice – Orchestral, October 2015 When I spoke to Nikolaus Harnoncourt about his new Schubert set for Limelight’s August issue, one thing was made clear from the get-go: the prevailing wisdom that the truly superlative Schubert symphonies are the Unfinished and the Great needs to be questioned. “Already his own style is in place from the first movement of the First Symphony,” Harnoncourt told me. And the conducting bears out those bold sentiments. Harnoncourt’s idea of a ‘Schubert style’ runs contrary to deeply held ‘certainties’, while remaining stubbornly rooted in the notes. The First Symphony is revealed as the work of an enfant terrible, a cocky young composer fully-versed in the lessons of Beethoven; stinging dissonances disrupt what might otherwise be smooth harmonic pathways. That opening movement is taken at a high-velocity tempo, Harnoncourt daring momentum to buckle when the harmony is at its most disobedient. And having comprehensively demolished the misnomer that his earliest symphonies might be pallid re-makes of Mozart and Haydn, Harnoncourt aims to change hearts and minds about Schubert’s middle and late-period symphonies. His earlier cycle, recorded in 1992 with the Concertgebouw, balances out intriguingly between the peppery soul of the Romantic spirit tempered by…

The four must-have albums of Nikolaus Harnoncourt.