Covent Garden’s 2003 production of The Magic Flute , designed by John F. Macfarlane, directed by David McVicar, and conducted by Sir Colin Davis, is magnificent from a strictly musical standpoint. More than that, it’s vastly entertaining. The comedic elements of the story integrate far more comfortably than is often the case with Schikaneder’s high-minded (if vague) theme of a quest for enlightenment, particularly in the second act. Visually, the production is a feast, yet it doesn’t distract from the music.

Die zweichörige Matthäus-Passion, die bereits im posthumen Andenken der Bach-Familie als die «Grosse Bassion» bezeichnet wurde, gehört nicht nur zu Bachs umfangreichsten und gewichtigsten Kirchenkompositionen. Sie hat auch seit den spektakulären Wiederaufführungen Mendelssohns und Zelters im Jahre 1829 die neuzeitliche Wahrnehmung des Komponisten wesentlich geprägt.

In his notes Graham Johnson says that what we have always lacked is a convincing way of performing late Schumann songs, often spare in texture and elusive in style. Well, he and Keenlyside seem to have found one here in their wholly admirable versions of the very different Opp 98a and 117. The Op 98a settings of the Harper's outpourings from Wilhelm Meister have always stood in the shade of those by Schubert and Wolf. This pair show incontrovertibly that there's much to be said for Schumann's versions, capturing the essence of the old man's sad musings, as set by the composer in an imaginative, free way, alert to every nuance in the texts.

Baritone Simon Keenlyside is a rarity in an era of focus on specific repertoires: a real operatic generalist whose interests and expertise range from the very earliest – L'Orfeo – to the newest – premieres of Adès' The Tempest and Maazel's 1984. Tales of Opera is limited to just a fraction of that span, from the late eighteenth to the very early twentieth centuries. The album's focus on the standard repertoire seems geared to bringing Keenlyside, whose discography, which, with a few exceptions, is weighted toward less familiar works, to the attention of the traditional opera lover.

Simon Keenlyside has the instrument, the technique, and the intelligence required of great lieder singers. His burnished baritone is large, but he can deploy it with tenderness, as well as power, and he has the flexibility to bring a broad array of colors to the songs' varied moods. This is especially impressive in Schumann's Dichterliebe, where the songs have an emotional arc with an implied narrative, and Keenlyside captures the mercurial shifts with passion and integrity. Even in a song as brief as "Ich grolle nicht," the subtlety of the lover's evolving feelings come across honestly and with precision.