The abundant legacy of Gustav Leonhardt’s recordings for Telefunken’s Das Alte Werk series invites us to follow his trajectory as a performer from the early 1960’s onwards, a time when the new codes of early music had yet to be invented, when their success depended above all on the strength of conviction of the performer. Leonhardt’s was strengthened by dialogue: with a range of partners whose variety defies all preconceived ideas, with ancient instruments or modern copies of all types, with repertoires as diverse as Byrd, Purcell, Rameau, Johann Sebastian but also Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach. Not forgetting the 1970 Monteverdi LP, which has never been reissued since. The image of a pope of early music isolated in his tower and frozen in a school style does not last long after listening to this historical sum, extended here by the later series of recordings under the Virgin Veritas flag.

The Sun King’s Mass was without doubt one of the privileged rites for the standing glory of the sovereign, as much because of its splendour, as for its ceremonial aspect, which brings time to a halt, solidifying the eternal image of royal power. The greatest composers of the kingdom distinguished themselves by making the holy service a veritable heavenly concert. The bell rang, the fifes and drums announced the arrival of the king in the gallery, the organ burst forth, the Grands Motets by Lully and Delalande enthralled under the golden vaults, the delicate and intimate petits motets by Couperin appear with grace in the alcoves of the Royal Chapel…

As with several other of Kipnis' albums, these could serve as either an eye opener for those uninitiated to the potential of the late 20th century harpsichord in the hands of these virtuoso musicians. And an introduction of the incredibly rich, varied music of the 18th Century. Igor Kipnis was so much more than a master of the keyboard, he helped introduce three generations to what the Baroque was all about.

SEON (Studio Erichson) is a period music label by the legendary producer Wolf Erichson. Erichson founded the label in 1969 as one of the first labels dedicated only to authentic music. The recordings were made with the best available recording techniques of the time and still deliver a high quality product in line with today's standards. This special boxset offers all SEON CD reissues from the late 90s on 85 CDs in a limited edition boxset.

Alexandre Tharaud pays tribute to composers associated with the courts of the French kings Louis XIV, XV and XVI. Lully, Rameau, Charpentier and François Couperin stand beside lesser-known masters: d’Anglebert, Forqueray, Royer, Duphly and Balbastre. “I’ve always been attracted by French music of this period,” says Tharaud, adding that when he plays the album’s initial Rameau prelude, “It’s like being alone at Versailles, opening the doors and entering those huge, imposing rooms.”

It figures that the ensemble most responsible for the French Baroque revival is the one to outdo Nelson and Kirkby's legendary recording of these lamentation settings. Sophie Daneman and Patricia Petibon don't have the earlier pair's gorgeous, distinctive voices (both occasionally wobble above the staff), but they sound plenty beautiful. More importantly, they've managed to make these major-key pieces sound like lamentations. Twenty years ago, Kirkby and Nelson were pioneers: merely singing with their white tone was risky; they couldn't take many chances with rhythmic freedom.

Couperin’s Trois Leçons de Ténèbres are amongst the small amount of the composer’s sacred music that was published during his lifetime. They are intensely personal, depicting the prophet Jeremiah’s bitter anguish in settings that are quite unique. Also included here are Couperin’s joyful motets Laetentur caeli and Venite, exsultemus Domino, and a remarkable Magnificat.

In her complete recording of the solo and accompanied harpsichord pieces of Jean-Philippe Rameau, Blandine Rannou invited us to ‘change dimensions, accept – decide – that a silence between two notes, a slight time-lag between two voices . . . can be genuine events, striking, powerful, raucous, overwhelming or sensual’.

François Couperin was the greatest keyboard composer of the French Baroque, and his achievement, in both quality and quantity, is comparable only to Scarlatti's and Bach's. His fourth (and last) book of harpsichord music was published in 1730, a few years before the composer's death, and it represents a summing up of his career as a composer for his favorite instrument. These eight suites (or "ordres") contain fewer works than in the earlier books, but each one is a gem. Christophe Rousset's performances are simply the finest available, both in terms of interpretation and sound. These two discs are a fitting conclusion to a sensational series.

The keyboard works of François Couperin – the most famous of the 18th-century clavecinistes – have never enjoyed quite the same popular revival as those of Scarlatti and Bach. No doubt Couperin’s comparative neglect is due partly to the fact that his intricate ornamental lines transfer awkwardly to the piano; but it is also true that the surface naivety and understated virtuosity of many of his pieces belie their musical substance.

Couperin's First Book of harpsichord pieces is a sort of musical house cleaning, representing the publication of a large number of pre-existing works that had already achieved a measure of popularity in manuscript copies. Couperin followed up his success with three more books published at intervals until the very end of his life. Collectively, these 27 suites of pieces (which the composer called "ordres") represent the pinnacle of French keyboard music, and they had a huge influence on subsequent composers, right down to Debussy and Ravel in our century. Christophe Rousset's series is a landmark in Baroque keyboard performance, and a splendid tribute to one of the epoch's greatest masters.

C'est le temps où la France de l'Age Classique n'en finissait pas d'opposer le style italien - personnifié alors par le grand virtuose et compositeur Corelli - au style français, associé comme on le sait à Lully, dont le nom n'avait pourtant de français que ce "y" final ! Mais François Couperin ne prit jamais parti, tant ces deux "goûts" lui paraissaient d'égale valeur : c'est ainsi qu'il rendit dans un premier temps hommage à Corelli, à travers cette grande sonade (sic) conçue comme une apothéose. Un an plus tard, L'Apothéose "composée à la mémoire immortelle de l'incomparable Monsieur" de Lully lui offrira un contrepoint fameux, tout à la gloire de la musique française…

In his Second Book of harpsichord pieces, Couperin moves away from the suite form based on a collection of dance movements, to a new conception consisting of a collection of miniatures with fanciful nicknames, some of which are clear, and some of which remain a mystery to this day. Couperin loved the harpsichord–he wrote one of the definitive instructional manuals for the instrument–and this set also includes the eight Preludes that he included in his L'Art de toucher le clavecin. At the time these discs were first issued, it was clear that Christophe Rousset's survey of Couperin's complete keyboard works was setting new standards in this music. His playing is simply magnificent.

This release from NOVUM is a CD of motets by François Couperin (1668-1733), the greatest figure in the French musical scene of the early 18th century. Everybody knows his fabulous harpsichord pieces, few his equally fabulous motets. Why? Many of them were effectively lost for over 200 years, and some have survived only in incomplete form. As a result, the motets are a sorely neglected part of his output. This New College release puts that right. Something like half the CD is of music never before recorded. The incomplete sources - violin parts lost soon after composition - have been reconstituted here by Edward Higginbottom, musicologist as well as Director of New College Choir.

Certains s'étonneront de voir la note maximale décernée à un enregistrement où certains solistes accusent de sérieuses faiblesses, Ian Honeyman en particulier. Pourtant, il y a quelque chose de magique dans cette interprétation des petits motets de Couperin. D'abord, Henri Ledroit y est superlatif et signe sans doute l'un de ses meilleurs disques où l'on s'émerveille sur la clarté du timbre, la justesse dans l'aigu, la grâce dans le phrasé, la douceur de l'émission.