Seraphim takes its name from the opening Handel aria praising the highest order of angels. Sara Macliver, appropriately, is one of Australia’s most angelic-voiced sopranos, and this selection of recordings old and new presents a roughly chronological traversal of joyful and gentle music from the Baroque to popular music. ABC Classics’ ten-year portrait of the Perth-born singer comprises just over half a disc of new recordings, with the first section given over to jubilant Baroque arias in which her radiant personality shines through. The title track is elegant and buoyant under the Orchestra of the Antipodes and Brett Weymark, Macliver tossing off coloratura passages with brilliance and precision, matched by trumpet soloist Leanne Sullivan. Her diction, however, isn’t always as clear as her melodic lines. But in Purcell’s Hark! The Echoing Air from The Fairy Queen, she channels Emma Kirkby in her prime. Less convincing are the two contemporary offerings: a stiflingly smooth rendition of Bernstein’s Somewhere – no swell, no surge of emotion – and a similarly unremarkable Joni Mitchell cover. There’s no question Macliver’s silvery tone and supreme musicianship are a joy to hear, but Seraphim is all green pastures (none greener than Canteloube’s Baïlero) without any of…

Just when you thought the market for Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater had reached saturation point, here’s Deutsche Grammophon with yet another. Although it’s called A Tribute to Pergolesi, the title could as easily have been A Vehicle for Anna Netrebko, since the Russian soprano is surely its raison d’être. The repertoire is a surprising choice for Netrebko, but this recording is remarkably effective. Netrebko’s voice is about a size larger than one would usually expect in this repertoire, and lacks the pinpoint precision of a typical Baroque specialist, but she wields it with such ardency and lustrous, expansive sound that she’s hard to resist. Young contralto Marianna Pizzolato is less gripping but no less lovely. Underpinned by Pappano’s elegant, sympathetic conducting, the two singers make a striking pair.  The Stabat Mater itself is beautifully, if not sensationally performed, but what really clinches this tribute are the less familiar secular cantatas which precede the main event. Pizzolato’s limpid account of Questo è il piano is a minor revelation, and Netrebko’s fiery Nel chiuso centro is a major one – operatic yet not overblown, it’s a 16-minute précis of what makes this soprano such a captivating performer and thrilling proof that Pergolesi’s talent…

David Berlin and Len Vorster deliver the music superbly, with dazzling playing of the highest order. Along with Aaron Copland, Samuel Barber was the composer who did the most to secure the place of American composition during the middle of the 20th century. His award-winning Cello Sonata is a compelling work in which his musical ideas are strong and well presented. The effective contrast with Bloch’s From Jewish Life (1924) is dramatic. This is Jewish music par excellence, and its distinctive character, the voice of the cantor, resonates throughout the work. In Suite populaire espagnole by Manuel de Falla, we have another strong contrast with the other works. After the troubled voice of Bloch’s cantor, the sunny, invigorating music of Spain is dramatic. The six sections of the work run the gamut of the composer’s accessible style. Staying in Spain, Madrigal (1915) by Enrique Granados, has more in common with Bloch’s piece. Based on one of his songs, it is a passionately wrought aria for cello. It was also one of the last things he wrote before he drowned. Toward the end of Debussy’s life, the composer tried to re-establish a link back to classical French composition. One work exploring…

At first glance this disc of chamber music might appeal exclusively to film music buffs.

Two previous solo recordings by the British soprano Kate Royal displayed her broad musical interests and imaginative programming. Her new CD is equally thoughtful. Rather than structure a recital in the usual “four groups plus two encores” format, Royal has devised a story arc for her album. This “lesson in love” concerns a young girl’s journey from the anticipation of romance, meeting Mr Right, their marriage, and his ultimate betrayal. Opening with the little-known Waitin’ by William Bolcom, Royal fits many well-loved songs into the scenario, including Schubert’s Gretchen am Spinnrade, Duparc’s Extase, Britten’s setting of the folksong O Waly, Waly and three songs from Schumann’s Myrthen. Waitin’ is sung again at the very end by the now worldly-wise protagonist, this time with a more pensive and knowing attitude. Most of the 28 songs fit the storyline neatly; only a couple, such as Danny Boy, seem to come from out of nowhere. Royal’s soprano is surprisingly strong, though not naturally warm. She hails from a line of British singers that includes Felicity Lott, Margaret Price and the Australian Elsie Morison. Occasionally at forte her very top register takes on a raw quality, although in Gretchen her high notes are perfectly…

Under the baton of Graham Abbott, one of our greatest Handelians, this tired old coupling gleams anew. Ideally sized for this repertoire, the 47-piece Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra plays on modern instruments but with the textural clarity of Baroque-styled phrasing and performing practices. Bright strings and well-balanced brass and winds bring commanding flamboyance to La Réjouissance in Fireworks with rhythmic drive maintaining interest. The refined, springy quality of the menuets and other regal dance forms highlight the contrasts between delicate winds and fuller orchestral sections with timpani. In the F Major Water Music suite the ear is drawn to the lively horn ornamentation, while the D Major hornpipe’s impressive antiphonal trumpets and horns are the mark of distinction in Abbott’s reading, full of personality and an airy charm that buoys us down the Thames. My taste in this repertoire veers towards risk-takingly earthy period-instrument performances, particularly those of Hervé Niquet and Le Concert Spirituel (who would have brought the French onion dip to the river party), and Canada’s Aradia Ensemble, both recordings including the third suite in G Major. Abbott and the TSO may lack the blazing energy and thrilling variety of these readings, but the performance is never tentative and certainly…

This disc introduces an impressive duo. Perhaps “introduces” is not the correct term for 25-year-old Norwegian violinist Vilde Frang, already a star of the European festival circuit. Anne-Sophie Mutter chose her to play second fiddle (literally) in the Bach Double Concerto on a recent tour. Frang has also recorded Sibelius and Prokofiev concertos, but this is the first time we’ve heard her in a chamber setting and the result is compelling.  In the Grieg and Strauss sonatas, Frang is accompanied by another young virtuoso. Lifits was born in Uzbekistan in 1982, and won the Busoni International Piano Competition in 2009. As a team they achieve real symbiosis: listen to the way they press forward and pull back in the 3/4 movement of the Grieg sonata, sharpening each nuance and finding the precise textural weight in perfect sync. Their program is attractive and far from hackneyed. Grieg’s Third Violin Sonata is his chamber masterpiece, but I had not heard the youthful First. These artists reveal it to be the exuberant outpouring of an inspired and vigorous young composer. Frang and Lifits also find warmth and tenderness in the young Strauss’s Sonata. In between, Frang gives a strong, detailed rendition of Bartók’s…

A wonderful collection of sonatas worthy even now of far greater recognition and popularity.

A first-class production of absorbing music.

Peter Grimes is one of the roles for which American tenor Anthony Dean Griffey is best known: Australian audiences may have seen him in the cinema broadcast of the Metropolitan Opera’s Peter Grimes or at the West Australian Opera in 2009. This, however, is a much earlier Grimes, recorded live at Glyndebourne in 2000, and it’s likely his interpretation has matured since then. Griffey sings with a strong, often beautiful voice, but his delivery is disappointingly monochromatic and restrained, never properly plunging into the vast emotional depths the role offers. From the indignation of the Act I storm scene, to the wistfulness and subsequent violence of Act II, to the final desolation of the mad scene, Griffey’s Grimes sounds basically the same, his expressive palette too limited to suggest the character’s extraordinary trajectory. As his Ellen, Vivian Tierney makes a pallid beginning, but then hits her stride, singing the Embroidery Aria with a poignant, brittle sweetness. Susan Gorton is a suitably bawdy Auntie, though her voice is at times easily confused with that of Hilary Summers’ menacing Mrs Sedley, and Steven Page makes a solid if unmemorable Balstrode. Other roles are all filled respectably and the Glyndebourne chorus is in…

Following their final William Byrd album’s accolade of Record of the Year in the 2010 Gramophone Awards – only once before bestowed on an early music disc – The Cardinall’s Musick boldly go where many, many choirs have gone before. In his informative liner note, Andrew Carwood elucidates the convoluted history of the familiar modern version of Allegri’s Miserere and the happy mistranscription of that stratospheric C (here sung by a soprano). He doesn’t explain, however, why his interpretation is pitched close to a semitone higher than any other I’ve heard on record or in concert. No matter. It’s not a cheap thrill but rather a rare and radiant pleasure. The vocal sound is enveloping, though the recording is a little distant and the reverb doesn’t seem entirely natural to the church acoustic. Even the most exposed moments of vocal counterpoint are lush and well nigh flawless. Readings by The Tallis Scholars and The Sixteen are more measured, as if in a solemn procession, but The Cardinall’s Musick take a more supple, refreshing approach. The main event on this disc is Missa cantantibus organis, a collaborative work with seven High Renaissance composers each contributing a movement. What follows is a…

Leslie Howard’s 99-CD set of Liszt’s piano music has recast the Liszt problem for 2011: it’s not that his music is underrated, misconstrued or maligned, it’s that most of it simply hasn’t been heard. With this CD of rarely programmed works, Brazilian pianist Nelson Freire makes his own compellingly listenable – and relatively concise – case for why there’s more to Liszt than Liebestraum.  However, not all the pieces on the disc are lost gems. Freire opts for one of the least played Hungarian Rhapsodies, the thanklessly stark No 3, which he imbues with a sensitivity the piece probably does not merit. More worthy of revival is the Ballade No 2. This is a fierce and entertaining tussle of Sturm vs Drang, a more rhetorical and grandiloquent work than any of Chopin’s four, but with a lyrical middle section to rival any by the Polish composer (who dubbed Liszt “a clever craftsman without a vestige of talent”). Freire brings an opulent lyricism to these moments of Chopinesque reverie, most notably in the third of the Consolations, based on the opening of Chopin’s D-flat Nocturne, Op 27, No 2.  Other pieces, such as Au Lac de Wallenstadt from Années de Pèlerinage,…