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The LeadHelen Charlston, a strikingly original talent in the classical music world, has released "A Poet's Love," an innovative album that reimagines Robert Schumann's classic Dichterliebe cycle. The mezzo-soprano's latest recording pushes into unexpected territory by complementing Schumann's work with other Heine settings by early-19th-century German contemporaries and presenting the first recording of Knight's Dream, a new piece by composer Héloïse Werner.A Fresh Interpretation of DichterliebeThe album centers on Schumann's Dichterliebe, a cycle on poems by Heinrich Heine that remains relatively unusual territory for the female voice. Charlston and pianist Sholto Kynoch offer a decidedly individual interpretation, taking time to land their points. Their approach begins with a trancelike start in "Im wunderschönen Monat Mai," stretching certain phrases to the limit. The duo returns to this mood frequently, surprising listeners with elongated measures and delivering an uncommonly elastic "Ich grolle nicht." Charlston's honeyed middle register draws the ear throughout, complemented by Kynoch's perceptive handling of Schumann's postludes.Complementary Works and New CommissionCharleston enhances the Schumann cycle with other Heine settings by early-19th-century German contemporaries, including both Felix and Fanny Mendelssohn. The album also features the first recording of Knight's Dream, commissioned as a companion piece for the Schumann from composer Héloïse Werner. The latter tells of a gallant lover blundering about in an enchanted fever dream. Charlston relishes Werner's haunting, folk-inflected vocal lines, her wine-dark mezzo-soprano savoring every nuance. Kynoch proves an exceptional collaborator, embellishing the narrative by speaking, humming, and even knocking on the piano.Vocal and Artistic BrillianceThroughout the album, Charlston's voice flows like molten lava, with every word crystal clear. This same resourcefulness breathes life into Loewe's Die Lotosblume and Fanny Mendelssohn's Schwanenlied. The mezzo-soprano's distinctive vocal style—characterized by her wine-dark timbre and honeyed middle register—creates a compelling listening experience. Kynock's accompaniment is equally impressive, demonstrating thorough understanding of the repertoire and exceptional sensitivity to the texts.The Future of Artistic Innovation in Classical Music"A Poet's Love" represents the kind of innovative programming that can revitalize classical music for contemporary audiences. By juxtaposing established masterworks with new commissions and exploring repertoire less commonly performed by female voices, Charlston and her collaborators demonstrate how tradition and innovation can coexist. This approach not only honors the past but also creates space for new voices and perspectives in the classical music landscape, suggesting a promising direction for the future of the art form.

The Genesis of a Masterpiece This week we mark two extraordinary centenaries. Sir David Attenborough's, of course, but only four days after the birth of the bona fide national treasure, Dmitri Shostakovich's First Symphony also first saw the light of day – premiered in Leningrad on 12 May 1926. The 19-year-old's composition was played by the Leningrad Philharmonic, conducted by Nicolai Malko. The Revolutionary Sound The symphony's four-movement structure is just about the only conventional feature it has. The teenage Shostakovich had imbibed all the lessons he could about what orchestral music should sound like and how it should behave, and was bold enough to subvert all those ideas and send them up. There is no forelock-tugging to earlier generations of Russian symphonists and orchestral pioneers; instead, Shostakovich's First resounds with a self-confidence that's both optimistic and deliciously sardonic. A Circus of Sound From the distorted trumpet call that opens the work – a fanfare that thumbs its nose at your expectations of how a symphony should start; not an affirmative flourish, but a snakingly dissonant question mark – Shostakovich sets out on a first movement that's like a circus: a cavalcade of characters who take the stage and exit, more often than not pursued by a cartoon bear, clown or bassoon. The momentum that Shostakovich generates from the way he juxtaposes ideas – cutting from one to the other as if the symphony were a reel of film – continues deliriously in the second movement. Here, a piano part is added to the orchestral texture, and that's where one of the secrets of this music's compositional energy is revealed. As a teenager, Shostakovich played the piano for Soviet silent cinema screenings, and in the symphony's piano solos, he turns his work into a knockabout farce that Buster Keaton would be proud of. A Masterpiece of Unbridled Creativity The movement builds to a climax that is both terrifying – a sudden fanfare that consumes the whole orchestra – and bathetic, in the form of the solo piano's chords, as if the pianist couldn't keep up with the music's pace. There is no hint anywhere in this piece of the bombast and poster-paint ideology of Shostakovich's later symphonies, but there is real feeling here, hinted at in that climax of the scherzo, as the cartoon suddenly shudders into real life. The slow movement that comes next is one of the most unironically passionate that Shostakovich ever wrote, as a solo oboe and solo cello inspire the whole orchestra to a melodic outpouring that feels more Shakespearean drama than circus hijinks. A Legacy of Creative Freedom The final movement somehow brings all of these worlds together, and the symphony ends in a torrent of irresistible energy, a culmination of pure sentiment as well as sheer excitement. This is, surely, the most creatively confident First Symphony by any teenager in musical history (and there is plenty of competition, from Mendelssohn to Knussen, from Rihm to Schubert). It announces a world of possibility in which musical conventions are gleefully turned upside down in a frenzy of modernist creativity that's both funny and profound. It's the sound of a unique symphonic avant garde that might have heralded an era of unfettered creative freedom for Shostakovich and generations of composers. A What-If of History Instead, these are the sounds of what might have been, for Shostakovich and for Russia. In Shostakovich's later symphonies, especially from the mid-1930s onwards, you hear the chilling of that freedom and the daily terror of living in Stalin's Soviet Union. The confidence and joy in his own brilliance that you hear in every page of the First Symphony is a miracle that Shostakovich never quite repeated and which is still strikingly new, a century on.

Andris Nelsons' tenure with the Boston Symphony may have been cut short, but his work with the Gewandhaus Orchestra is a testament to his exceptional skill. This collection of Mendelssohn's symphonies and oratorios, recorded live between 2021 and 2024, highlights Nelsons' ability to bring out the best in the orchestra. The tempi are brisk but never rushed, and it's the phrasing that truly brings these performances to life. The Italian Symphony's opening movement is ultra-lithe, and the Scottish Symphony's scherzo features intricate woodwind work. Nelsons elevates the often-overlooked First Symphony to stand alongside its more colorful counterparts. The set includes two oratorios, Elias (Elijah) and Paulus (St Paul), sung in German. Elias boasts a distinguished lineup, including Golda Schultz and Wiebke Lehmkuhl, with Andrè Schuen delivering a standout performance in the title role. Nelsons' interpretation of Paulus is particularly noteworthy, bringing out the drama in this lesser-known work. This collection is a must-listen for classical music enthusiasts, offering a unique insight into Mendelssohn's works and Nelsons' exceptional conducting style. Stream it now on Apple Music or Spotify.