Gabriela Ortiz: “Revolución Diamantina”

Los Angeles Philharmonic; María Dueñas, violin; Gustavo Dudamel, conductor (Platoon)

I know what I’ll be rooting for Oct. 9, when Gustavo Dudamel and the Los Angeles Philharmonic begin Gabriela Ortiz’s season as the resident composer at Carnegie Hall: namely, something on the level of the spitfire violin concerto “Altar de Cuerda,” which opens this survey of her music, performed by the same orchestra and conductor. Just as the soloist, María Dueñas, ventures from tremulous, weeping articulations to slashing outbursts with impressive security, so too does the Philharmonic snap back and forth with alertness when approaching Ortiz’s contrasting, hurtling designs in the opening movement. In the slow middle movement, the mercurial, slowly morphing orchestral harmonies reach out to American minimalism and Finnish spectralism alike. And the finale boasts hints of Romantic effusion.

Less successful, to my ear, is what follows. The curtain-raising morsel “Kauyumari” is effective but plainly modest. And the ballet score “Revolución Diamantina” can sound bogged down by its heavy conceptual program, inspired by a 2019 feminist protest in Mexico. The writing seems less instantly memorable than in the concerto. Syllabic dyads for chorus might make you think you’re hearing a distillation of Philip Glass’ “Einstein on the Beach.” The score traffics in rather direct, and extended, references to Igor Stravinsky’s “The Rite of Spring.” So, when Ortiz presents a new concerto, for cellist Alisa Weilerstein, at Carnegie, let’s hope the result feels more like this recording of “Altar de Cuerda.” — Seth Colter Walls

“Puccini: Love Affairs”

Jonas Kaufmann, tenor; Pretty Yende, Anna Netrebko, Sonya Yoncheva, Malin Byström, Asmik Grigorian, Maria Agresta, sopranos; Orchestra del Teatro Comunale di Bologna; Asher Fisch, conductor (Sony)

After establishing himself as the great spinto tenor of his generation, Jonas Kaufmann got a little sidetracked. Movie-music projects and a 140-minute Christmas album were almost defiantly corny. A listener might be forgiven for approaching a record called “Love Affairs” with trepidation.

In this tribute to Giacomo Puccini, on the centenary of his death, Kaufmann’s voice, having lost some of its sheen and youthful vim, is growlier and less swoony than it used to be. Individual notes sound mightily impressive, but whole phrases can feel labored, with bumpy lines and dry, blunt-force climaxes. Still, when Kaufmann rallies, heroic highs and breathtaking diminuendos are reminders of the technique that made him a marvel.

Even as audiences clamored for his Richard Wagner interpretations, Kaufmann kept Puccini in his repertoire. On this disc, his easy star power enlivens Cavaradossi’s suavity and Dick Johnson’s rugged, weary machismo. The rosy, rhapsodic impetuousness of Rodolfo and Pinkerton, those fools who rush in, eludes Kaufmann. Asher Fisch’s conducting is exceedingly deferential.

It’s a measure of Kaufmann’s clout that he was able to get half a dozen acclaimed sopranos, including Sonya Yoncheva (a ripe, sensual Tosca) and Anna Netrebko (a haggard Manon Lescaut), to jump on an otherwise routine recording. Best of all: Asmik Grigorian’s haunted Giorgetta, in an excerpt from “Il Tabarro,” which draws a fatalistic ardor out of Kaufmann that might surprise listeners. No trepidation required. — Oussama Zahr

Kraft and CPE Bach: Cello Concertos

Jean-Guihen Queyras, cello; Ensemble Resonanz; Riccardo Minasi, conductor (Harmonia Mundi)

Antonín Kraft (1749-1820) was one of the notable cellists of his time, and among the first players of works by Franz Joseph Haydn, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Ludwig van Beethoven. He published only a small amount of his own music, and it places his instrument front and center — including the concerto in C, which is given an irresistible performance on this album.

Written around the turn of the 19th century, the piece harks back to the style of a few decades earlier, but without any staleness. The first movement is Allegro aperto (“fast and open”), a characteristic tempo marking of Mozart’s that suggests dashing good cheer, a quality captured by the crisp, headlong playing of cellist Jean-Guihen Queyras and Ensemble Resonanz, led by Riccardo Minasi. The andante is graceful, and the finale — a “Rondo alla Cosacca” with an elegant cast over its folkish robustness — is a hearty showcase for Queyras’ rich tone and easy virtuosity, down to the wittily understated ending.

Queyras, Minasi and Resonanz previously recorded two of CPE Bach’s mid-18th-century cello concertos; the third is included on the new disc, and here has a ruminative adagio between vibrant outer movements, and tight unity between soloist and ensemble throughout. But the revelation here is Kraft. — ZACHARY WOOLFE

Dvorak: Symphony No. 9, “From the New World”; American Suite

Atlanta Symphony Orchestra; Nathalie Stutzmann, conductor (Erato)

One of the many things that marks Nathalie Stutzmann as a conductor of note is the strength with which she holds her artistic convictions. When I interviewed her two years ago, as she prepared to take over at the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, she spoke insistently of her belief that to respect a score is to breathe life into it, to fill it with feeling, and not simply to follow its every direction to the letter. “More than for perfection we are striving for that shared emotion,” she writes in the notes for this stylish Antonín Dvorak recording. It’s her first as a conductor alone.

Much of the promise, and some of the peril, of Stutzmann’s taste for subjectivity are on show in her reading of the “New World” Symphony, recorded live last November. She draws a full, bold sound from the orchestra, and the volatility with which she uses it guarantees surprises throughout. The highlight is the slow movement, ardent and stretched yet graced with beguiling patience. Elsewhere, Stutzmann so often displays such a wonderfully easy way with tempo, as in much of the finale, that the few moments when she most brazenly stokes the drama stick out and frustrate, nowhere more blatantly than at the end of the first movement. The American Suite is a sensible filler on an intriguing debut. — David Allen

“Keel Road”

Danish String Quartet (ECM)

How can one ensemble be so good at so many things? The Danish String Quartet has already been highly (and rightly) lauded for its way with late Beethoven and knotty 20th-century repertoire and for its forays into contemporary music. Now comes the latest of its journeys into European folk music traditions, following 2014’s “Wood Works” and 2017’s “Last Leaf.” The “road” being explored here is the North Sea, in music stretching from the quartet’s native Scandinavia to the Faroe Islands to England and Ireland. Again the quartet mixes arrangements of folk songs — including four by Irish harpist Turlough O’Carolan — with their own compositions.

Some of the qualities of “Keel Road” are familiar from earlier efforts in this segment of the foursome’s repertoire. There’s no trace of kitsch. They bring to this music the same virtues as their more canonical pursuits: unified and natural phrasing, and crack ensemble playing. The arrangements are coolly resourceful, and their own tunes are so idiomatic you could easily mistake them for being “authentic” folk music.

All well and good, but some deeper force takes over on the final track, a Norwegian song called “Nar Mitt Oye, Trett Av Moye” (“When My Eyes, Sore With Weeping”). Having listened to it several dozen times, I remain at a loss to explain how these four musicians create such pathos from a simple old folk tune. Their arrangement gives it an almost Beethovenian depth of feeling — sadness and joy turning inescapably into each another. — David Weininger