Sophie Yates’s 1993 debut CD offered a fine selection of French Baroque harpsichord music. For this second disc she has turned her attention south to Spain and Portugal and back to the 16th as well as 17th century. The repertoire, though less familiar, is certainly attractive – delightful examples of tiento and diferencias by Cabezón; Coelho’s compelling Segunda Susana; the ornate traceries of Ximénez and Cabanilles. And all played with a graceful eloquence that is quietly impressive.

Simone Kermes is a highly idiosyncratic performer who delights in pushing the boundaries of good taste, often unafraid to inject her singing with a grab bag of vocal tricks. So it’s surprising that her latest release is that most standard of offerings, one to put next to your favourite singer’s Verdi or Puccini disc – the Handel recital.

Johann Bernhard Bach (1676-1749) is a somewhat ill-known member of the family, but known by his first cousin once removed, Johann Sebastian. A disciple of Pachelbel, he was in the service of the court of Eisenach and left us only instrumental music. His four Ouvertures for orchestra constitute the obvious link between French music of the Grand Siècle and the compositions that Johann Sebastian would write in Weimar and Cöthen. A missing link to be (re) discovered.

What can anyone add to the praise that has deservedly been heaped on Robert King and the King's Consort's 11 discs of the complete sacred music of Vivaldi? Can one add that every single performance is first class – wonderfully musical, deeply dedicated, and profoundly spiritual? Can one add that every single performer is first class – absolutely in-tune, entirely in-sync, and totally committed? Can one add that every single recording is first class – amazingly clean, astoundingly clear, and astonishingly warm? One can because it's all true and it's all been said before by critics and listeners across the globe.

This well-documented and handsomely presented set is well worth considering. Harnoncourt led the way in ‘authentic’ Bach performances, and in some respects – the slow minuets and the somewhat portentous introductions, for instance – these Sixties recordings differ from more recent practice. But no matter, since the approach is full of life, and the balance allows details to be heard clearly and naturally. The fugal sections are particularly successful.

By comparison with the ambitious, sometimes pioneering products of the last musically active decade of his life (1755-1765) much of Telemann's chamber music is conventional in language if not always in form. Nevertheless, we should guard against any assessment which views it as merely fluent. Telemann's chamber suites and cantatas, solo sonatas, trios, quartets and songs almost invariably carry the hallmark of a composer whose understanding of the voices and instruments for which he is writing is both imaginatively practical and technically informed.

Johann Sebastian Bach's flute sonatas undoubtedly require congenial partners, who play together in an unpretentious, equally important way - in the truest sense of the word, in concert. This is brilliantly fulfilled by Lars Ulrik Mortensen with his hardly surpassable vocal playing on the harpsichord and Linde Brunmayr-Tutz with virtuosity and full sound on the transverse flute.

For almost 50 years, Gustav Leonhardt - harpsichordist, organist and, most recently, conductor - has counted among the most respected specialists in both the theory and practice of early music. Acclaimed for his numerous recordings of music ranging from keyboard masterpieces of the early Baroque to Mozart's sonatas, Leonhardt has played a critical role in bringing period-instrument performance into the mainstream of classical music life.

Five lesser-known pieces (one orchestral suite and four instrumental concertos) from the over-abundant pen of Georg Philipp Telemann are presented in this second collection by the British ensemble Collegium Musicum 90, here directed by its co-founder, gifted violinist Simon Standage, whose earlier recordings with the English Concert and the Academy of Ancient Music are the guarantors of his classiness.

In earlier times, adaptations and rearrangements of their own works or those of others formed an integral part of the daily lives of musicians and composers. So-called ‘historically informed’ performance practice, which has developed out of a strictly historical perspective on past eras of music, long left this way of treating an existing composition almost totally unexplored. Today, however, it is enjoying a renaissance and is part of a musician’s training. The idea of arranging Bach’s works is a natural one, since the composer himself was an inveterate transcriber. Most of the programme recorded here consists of solo keyboard works rescored for a chamber formation – in other words, the performers have chosen an approach that is the contrary of Bach’s usual practice.

World premiere recordings of sacred music by a forgotten master of the Spanish Baroque.

Für exklusive Privatkonzerte Ludwigs XIV. komponierte Couperin 1714 eine Gruppe von kurzen Stücken für ausgewählte Hofmusiker, die er in vier Concerts zusammenfasste, von denen jedes ein wahres Wunderwerk der barocken französischen Kammermusik darstellt. Die tänzerisch gehaltenen, bisweilen aber auch rätselhaften Stücke erstrahlen dank Patrick Cohen-Akenine und Les Folies françoises wie nie zuvor.

Extraordinarily, Alessandro Scarlatti (who died in 1725 and forms a strong bridge between the mature Baroque and later classical traditions, according to musicologist Edward Dent) wrote some sixty-four operas, twenty oratorios, hundreds of chamber cantatas, and a host of madrigals, masses, motets, toccatas, concertos, sonatas and symphonies. Very little of this is heard today, sadly, except in specialist circles. Perhaps one of the more popularly performed pieces is 'Abramo, il tuo sembiante' (a Christmas cantata). When Handel visited Italy between 1706 and 1710, he met Scarlatti and may even have studied with him. This performance of said cantata is well within the Italian style - clear lines and intricate ornamentation.

Recorded in 1990 at Rosslyn Hill Chapel, Hampstead (London), this beautifully produced CD contains six lesser-known works for violin(s) by Germany’s most prolific 18th century composer, Georg Philipp Telemann, who was, during his lifetime, considerably more famous (and more in demand) than any of the Bach dynasty. But as Nicholas Anderson points out in his rather brief introduction to this music, “Telemann did not altogether avoid in his own music those features which he criticised in others; sometimes his harmonies seem sparse, his passagework perfunctory.” Telemann was a great musician, but the violin “seems to have been that in which he was least fluent”. It is also well-known that Telemann’s facility in composing has gained him a reputation for producing quantity rather than quality – a reputation which, on the whole, is undeserved.

Her smiling face, her generosity and her simplicity have won the hearts of all those who have seen this great singer from afar or close up; a singer who could never be mistaken for a diva. No caprices, no bouts of rage, no outrageous demands: she simply sang. It was the Geneva International Music Competition, which she won with such great success in 1947, that propelled the young Spanish singer to the front of the world stage. Right away, she was enlisted to sing La Vida Breve by Manuel de Falla in London, and then Paris invited her to play Marguerite in Gounod's Faust at the Opéra, before becoming Mimi (La Bohème by Puccini), under the direction of Sir Thomas Beecham at Covent Garden. Salzburg, New York, Milan, Vienna and Buenos Aires followed. A coloratura soprano first and foremost, she sang roles from Rossini with agility. As the years went by, she expanded her voice and her repertoire, becoming a much sought-after lyric soprano. Thanks to her particular gift for languages, she has been Agathe in Weber's Freischütz, Desdemona in Verdi's Othello, Eva in Die Meistersinger by Wagner, or a touching Mélisande. She is a wily and spiteful Rosina (Barber of Seville), a simple and moving Mimi.