by Bellini, Donizetti, Rossini. Chorus of the Florence May Music Festival; Orchestra of St. Luke?s, Patrick Summers, conductor. Erik Smith, producer; Tom Lazarus and Graham Meek, engineers. Decca 467101

Ren?e Fleming is today?s reigning diva, and this recording explains why. These soprano fireworks from the bel canto era represent an homage to the prima donnas of the early 19th Century for which they were written, and also remind us that Fleming burst onto the international scene a decade ago in Pesaro performances of Rossini?s Armida, a live Sony recording that announced the arrival of a very special singer. The expectations raised since then have largely been fulfilled, although in recent years, Fleming has sometimes indulged in the sort of over-interpretation that made me think she?s spent too much time with old Elizabeth Schwarzkopf recordings. So I?m delighted to report that her latest release, except for minor lapses, is largely free of such mannerisms. In fact, she?s simply sensational.

Fleming repeats her Armida triumph with the opera?s second-act finale, full of astounding vocal leaps and a breathtaking (ours, not hers) diminuendo. In the cavatina, ?Ah! non sai? from Donizetti?s rarely heard Maria Padilla, she tosses off thrilling high notes, but then, she does that everywhere on this disc, and adds a staggering variety of perfectly placed trills as well. In Bellini?s Il Pirata, she sings with tremendous feeling and extraordinary vocal security. Her range in Imogen?s cabaletta ?O sole! Ti vela? encompasses high notes most sopranos wouldn?t dare, as well as earthy chest tones. Between those extremes Fleming flaunts as luscious a middle voice as one can imagine. In the Act Three Finale to Donizetti?s Lucrezia Borgia, she invests Lucrezia?s plea with pathos, and the opening lines of ?Era desso il figlio mio? are pure tragedy in sound, while the coloratura passages that follow manage to both dazzle and convey the pain of a mother mourning her dead son.

Decca?s production values are top-of-the-line, providing entire scenes complete with recitatives, interjections by other singers and by the chorus. The orchestra is first-rate, and conductor Patrick Summers demonstrates a real feel for this often-elusive style. The engineering is worthy of the prima donna, too, with realistic balances between voice and instruments, plenty of air and stage depth, and a good mid-house aural perspective. Kick the volume up and the sound retains its integrity. But why go on? Just get it!

- Dan Davis

Bach: Goldberg Variations
(1955 & 1981 recordings). Glenn Gould, piano. Howard C. Scott (1955); Glenn Gould and Samuel H. Carter (1981), original producers; Louise de la Fuente, reissue producer; Dixon Van Winkle, reissue engineer. Sony 87703 (3 CDs)

Glenn Gould abandoned the concert stage early in his career, prophesizing that "the habit of concert-going and concert-giving, both as a social institution and as chief symbol of musical merchantilism will be dormant in the 21st century." Happily, he was wrong about that (so far) but-no question-Gould left his considerable mark via recordings. Gould is most closely associated with the music of Bach and with no work as much as the Goldberg Variations. The pianist's two versions frame his discographic career: The celebrated June 1955 reading was his first recording, and that from the spring of 1981 was among his very last. Twenty years after Gould's sadly premature passing, Sony has reissued both as a set, making efforts to optimize the sound and providing a third CD that holds some out-takes from the 1955 sessions as well as a revealing 51-minute interview conducted by Tim Page.

In that interview, you'll hear Gould distancing himself from the early recording, implying that he found parts of it reckless, overly pianistic, even Romanticized. But it remains a wonder, possessing a bold exuberance and irresistible rhythmic drive and energy. Even the slower movements maintain a kind of tension and urgency. The 1981 version is more than 13 minutes longer, in large part because Gould observed repeats he eschewed in 1955. The pianist gives careful consideration to tempo interrelationships among movements, and his ability to delineate independent voices has evolved even beyond the precocious brilliance of his early years. Gould's later version fleshes out his youthful one in a way that delivers the full emotional impact of Bach's magnificent creation.

The sound for both performances has been improved. My 1970s Columbia LP [M31820] was in fake stereo-the amorphous sonics undermined the intensity of Gould's playing-and, though it doesn't say so, it sounds like similar monkey business is afoot on the 1983 CBS "Great Performances" CD [MYK 38479]. Here, we get an honest, central mono image with a sufficiently meaty piano sonority. Sony claims that the 1981 recording was "remastered using the original analogue tapes." I wasn't aware there was an analog source: The original CD [37779] boasts "digitally recorded using the Sony System." Well, the piano sound on the new release does have more warmth and body, and perhaps a bit more air around the instrument. Sony has also issued the 1981 performance on SACD [37779] and, while not vastly superior to this remastering, subtle gradations of touch and dynamics are better communicated, and each note's attack and decay more naturally reproduced. In one form or another, these two Goldbergs are essential.

- Andrew Quint

Vermeulen: Symphonies No. 2, 6, and 7.
Residentie Orchestra of The Hague, Gennady Rozhdestvensky, conductor. Leo de Klerk and Jorn Mineur, engineers and producers. Chandos 9735

Matthijs Vermeulen completed his breakthrough opus, the Second Symphony, in 1920. Though it inevitably evokes comparisons with another one-of-a-kind but vastly more famous masterpiece from a few years earlier, The Rite of Spring, these two works are, like their composers, more different than alike. Vermeulen was a solitary, uncompromising, crusty, cranky genius-more akin to the American Charles Ives than to the suave and chameleonic Stravinsky-and he so alienated his fellow Dutchmen that his symphony remained unheard until 1953. As a result, this visionary and astoundingly original outpouring of Dionysian abandon and "primitive" ecstasy (that Vermeulen subtitled "Prelude for a New Day"), with its barrages of percussion, ornate entangled melodies, minatory fanfares, glowering pan-tonal discords, transfixed ostinatos, many-layered Ivesian superimpositions, and incantory drumbeats beneath entranced interludes of torpid unease, remained so obscure that it had no influence at all, however uncanny its many anticipations of Var?se, Messiaen, Henze, and Birtwistle. It remains a wonderful monstrosity, with no real descendants except the composer's own later works.

Vermeulen's Second (like his others) has only been on disc once or twice before, never on a widely distributed label, and never so well-played or well-recorded as on this spectacular new Chandos, which has lots of oomph, a huge soundstage, and, suitably for the music, not too much of the smoothing-off or refined blending typical of English digital recordings. At last, Vermeulen gets his long-postponed due. Listen to this astonishing creation and see why Jonathan Valin and I included it on our millennium-year list of "Top 100 Classical Works of the 20th Century" in Issue 122.

Undaunted by neglect, Vermeulen continued composing, finishing a total of seven symphonies and a handful of chamber pieces. The Sixth, from 1958, and the Seventh, from 1965 and boldly subtitled "Dithyrambs for the Time To Come," are tame only by the standards of the Second. Each in its own way is infused with a fierce, Blakean joy. Incredible to think that the Seventh was written-by a dying man of almost eighty-just as the same mind-expanding freedom and untrammeled vitality incarnate in his music had become a rallying cry for a generation discovering psychedelic drugs, open sexuality, and spontaneous individual expression. As we used to say: cosmic.

- Mark Lehman

The Major Film Scores of Summer/Fall 2002

Williams: Star Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Clones. Sony 89990\

Williams: Minority Report. Dreamworks 0044-50385

Newman: Road to Perdition. Decca 44001767

Burwell: Simone. Varese Sarabande 3020663872

Howard: Signs. Hollywood 2061-62368

Attack of the Clones has engendered the usual controversy: ?The best Star Wars score yet? versus ?There is nothing new here.? Neither extreme is true, but once you accept the fact that the style and relevant themes of the first Star Wars trilogy will be continued, you can marvel at how much John Williams does with his material. The centerpiece of the score is a bittersweet love theme for Padme and Anakin that ingeniously combines the rhythmic sequence of Luke Skywalker?s theme and the melodic contour of Leia?s theme, thus outlining the central lineage of the Star Wars films in musical terms. AOTC does not contain a spectacular set piece on the level of ?Duel of the Fates,? but it more effectively integrates the familiar themes and new material into a darkly colored symphonic score reminiscent of The Empire Strikes Back. The London Symphony Orchestra is miked in a realistic concert-hall setup, and the sound has Shawn Murphy?s trademark combination of sweetness and fine inner detail.?

Minority Report is another matter altogether. Steven Spielberg has accurately called it Williams? first ?black and white? score. It is a dazzling display of relentlessly chilling orchestral virtuosity. Even the principal lyrical theme is emotionally cool. There are subtle but deliberate references to Bernard Herrmann. This is not the usual accessible Williams score, but the modernistic effects are still pretty conservative. You have to admire his technique and versatility, but Williams missed an opportunity to utilize experimental devices that he never attempted before. The orchestra is more closely miked than AOTC, but not to the extent heard in most soundtracks. Bass is outstanding. ???????

Thomas Newman is a prodigiously talented and underrated composer with great genes. He is a gifted melodist whose minimalist style frequently favors more intimate films. Critics maintain that he relies too heavily on cutesy, plink-plunk sounds and overuses synthesizers. There is plenty of that in Road to Perdition, and some will say that he underplays or misreads the violence and moral issues at the film?s core. However, an equally strong case can be made claiming that by painting the broader mood of the scene, he effectively scores against the images. There are numerous Irish touches and a plethora of odd solo instruments?Newman produces an endless display of instrumental, rhythmic, and dramatic effects without ever repeating himself. While it is good to see him expand orchestrally, I am not convinced that some of this almost jaunty music is totally successful in the film. There is a large, reverberant wall-of-sound with little sense of concert-hall ambience, but with Newman?s succession of isolated instrumental vignettes, it doesn?t really matter. Despite close miking, the recording has ample impact and dynamic range.

Now, for some refreshing counter-programming: From a somewhat pretentious blockbuster to a comic satire aimed at Hollywood and the media hype system. Like Newman, Carter Burwell is an underappreciated minimalist. Simone consists of a somewhat unfocused but utterly beguiling series of musical set pieces. If you want relief from the epic sound of Williams, listen to the charm and inventiveness of Burwell?s kaleidoscopic musical palette. The 38-piece orchestra is miked very closely, resulting in limited dynamic range and no true pianissimos. In the age of synthesizers, a specialist in chamber-like orchestration has created a score engineered to sound almost artificial, and it works. An appropriately flawless fraud? Like Simone herself.

James Newton Howard?s Signs presents a more varied sound world than his subdued and monochromatic score for The Sixth Sense. ?Soft, dissonant violins alternating with jagged brass and string outbursts are followed by lush chord progressions that evoke a sense of wonder and foreboding. Howard mixes electronic sounds with instrumental elements in a remarkable display of changing yet fully integrated orchestration. The score climaxes with an eruption of growling brass before settling into luxuriant silence at the end. Howard happily resists using the wordless female voice or chorus ubiquitous in this kind of film. In contrast to Newman, he strives to enhance the mood of the visual images rather than playing against them. Shawn Murphy has, again, engineered a masterpiece.? The sound has massive dynamic range and power, sweetness, and extended deep bass. The result is a magical and intoxicating blend of acoustic and electronic sounds.

-Arthur B. Lintgen