Following an initial reconstruction on disc in 2015, the Ballet Royal de la Nuit enjoyed a triumphal modern premiere at the Théâtre de Caen in November 2017. That staged version, presented in this outstanding box set, at last includes the entire musical score (twenty-seven additional dances). The meticulous reconstitution of Sébastien Daucé, the incomparable poetry of Francesca Lattuada, an oneiric universe featuring more than 120 costumes designed by Olivier Charpentier, all contribute to an incredible enchantment further enhanced by the exploits of virtuoso jugglers and circus artists. In this ballet, a masterly achievement from every point of view, the spell remains unbroken from first note to last.

The evolving musical climate of the 1950s occasioned a profound shift of culture and attitude in the performance of Bach’s great choral works. By the close of the decade, it was one of Bach’s own successors in the post of Kantor at Leipzig’s Thomaskirche, Karl Richter (who’d become organist there at age 23 in 1947), who’d become torch-bearer for a new generation of Bach interpreters. Richter’s recordings with the Munich Bach Choir and Orchestra (ensembles he founded in 1951 and with which his name has become synonymous) heeded an unbroken Leipzig tradition that could be traced back to the time of Bach himself.

David Zinman’s Mahler has been warmly received in many quarters. He is proceeding through the cycle chronologically and the Fifth will not disappoint those who like their Mahler sane and lucid. Sound quality remains near state-of-the-art even if there seems to be too much hall ambience for absolute clarity this time. The orchestra has been carefully drilled – individual members are named in the attractive, copiously annotated booklet – but it is idle to pretend that Zürich can offer either the characterful solo playing or the corporate weight of Chicago, Vienna or Berlin. That the back inlay and the track-listing misrepresent the work’s tripartite structure matters little.

Händel’s La Resurrezione is an oratorio for Easter. It was first performed on Easter Sunday 1708 in Rome. The libretto was written by Carlo Sigismondo Capece. The events related in the story are those of the period between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, when Christ ‘descended into Hell’ to redeem the souls of the patriarchs and prophets who had prepared for His coming. The events in the underworld are set out in series of lively exchanges between an Angel and Lucifer. Meanwhile, the story as seen on earth is related through the conversations of three mortal characters, Mary Magdalene, Mary Cleophas and St John the Evangelist. The two planes of the drama are united when the Angel appears to the women at the sepulchre and announces the Resurrection to them.

Bach's St John Passon shows the composer's towering imagination at its most intensely dramatic, moving and vivid. Christ's trial and death are retold by soloists acting as participants in the event but also meditating upon it in reflective arias; the choir's role alters from rowdy mob baying for crucifixion to that of a congregation singing quiet, redemptive chorales. Criticised in its day for being too operatic, the work is now revered for its originality, for its faith and above all for its incomparable beauty of musical thought. The new reading is a testament to the vitality of the choral tradition: all soloists are former or current members of New College Choir. It also presents a new level of authenticity, not only with period instruments but also with boys's voices as Bach would have used at St Thomas in Leipzig.

The three concertos are young Mozart's first in the genre (along with the Pasticci concertos 1-4), and are based on tunes by J.C. Bach. While the questions are rightly posed, "how much of this did Mozart write and how much of it was Leopold or other sources," the music stands for itself. While not neccesarily the work of a young genius sprung fully formed from Zeus' head, they are excellent examples of galant composition.

How appropriate that Harnoncourt, a conductor who through recordings has probably done more than anyone else to allow us to explore Bach's choral music, should now turn his attention to Mendelssohn; a composer who, as a conductor, was responsible in his time for the revival of Bach's fortunes, not to mention revising the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra's programmes to ensure that Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Handel and Bach formed the backbone of the repertoire—exactly those composers, in fact, who form the core of Harnoncourt's discography.

Of Gustav Mahler's symphonies, the Symphony No. 4 in G major is the most neo-Classical in character, the most lighthearted in expression, and the most compact in form, all of which make it the most accessible of the cycle. Because Mahler's effects are precisely calculated, the music invites few liberties, and performances of the symphony tend to be quite similar in style and pacing; consequently, David Zinman and the Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich turn in a meticulous rendition that resembles many others in interpretation and is uncontroversial in execution.

For most people, Vivaldi completely associated with Venice, but during his lifetime his music was premiered in a variety of places. Six of his operas were performed in Prague at the Sporck Theatre. Of these, two were only ever performed in Prague, Argippo and Alvilda, regina de Goti, and this disc is a recording by Czech forces of the former. The libretto, by Domenico Lalli, had already been set by a variety of composers before Vivaldi used it for Prague in 1730. Unfortunately the score was lost and only the libretto survived. Then in 2006 Czech harpsichordist Ondrej Macek discovered around half the arias of the opera in the library of the counts of Thurn und Taxis.

The revival of that most original and fascinating Baroque composer Alessandro Stradella on Brilliant Classics continues with the issue of his substantial Oratorio La Susanna. The story is based on an apocryph bible book, and tells about the virtuous and beautiful Susanna who is wrongly accused of adultery, but is ultimately saved from her execution by the prophet Daniel. This juicy story inspired Stradella to composing dramatic and effectful arias and (instrumental) ensembles, full of burning emotions.

Kennedy, the violinist formerly known as Nigel Kennedy, has a well-earned reputation as the bad boy of classical music. His defiantly anti-Establishment antics anger traditionalists and tickle the rebellious. This venture into the Bach canon will confirm both camps in their views. Traditionalists will fume at such excesses as the exaggerated, ugly flourish at the end of the E Major Concerto and the supersonic speeds adopted for the Allegro movement of the two-violin Concerto among much else, including the puzzle-booklet more appropriate to a pop release. Kennedy's fans, though, will relish those elements of what is an ultimately fairly straightforward set of Bach interpretations enlivened by personal touches, a string sound that owes much to "authentic instrument" practices, and zippy speeds that make for exciting listening.

David Zinman’s Mahler cycle really hits its stride with this remarkable performance of the Third Symphony. It only has two small drawbacks worth mentioning. First, alto Birgit Remmert sounds pretty good in her big fourth-movement solo, but she’s far less impressive during her brief contributions to the choral fifth movement. Perhaps this take came from another evening (the symphony was recorded during a series of live performances). Second, at the very end of the symphony, despite the very beautiful playing, the trumpets fail to ring out as Mahler’s score directs. Better this glowing sonority than stridency, but there’s no reason why we can’t have the best of both worlds (Haitink’s first recording with the Concertgebouw on Philips never has been surpassed in this respect).

Mackerras’s series of opera recordings, with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, has a character very much its own, deriving from his natural feeling for the dramatic pacing of Mozart’s music and the expressive and allusive nature of its textures, as well as the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s sensitivity and responsiveness to him. These are not period-instrument performances (except in that natural horns and trumpets are used, to good effect), but Mackerras’s manner of articulation, and the lightness of the phrasing he draws from his strings, makes it, to my mind, a lot closer to a true period style than some of the performances that make a feature of period instruments and then use them to modern ends (I am thinking less here of British conductors than some from Europe).

This recording of the 6th and 9th Symphonies is an interesting combination. The three-movement Sixth Symphony, with its brooding first movement, energetic second movement, and almost circus-like last movement, and the cheeky, almost light-weight Ninth. Note that I used the word "almost". Shostakovich manages to get pretty serious in places (the second and fourth movements come to mind here). That being said, the performances and recording of both works are first rate. There is no doubt that Mariss Jansons is a master interpreter of the music of Shostakovich.

Semiramide, based on a play by Voltaire about an ancient Assyrian queen, was Rossini's last Italian opera. Some five hours long in performance, it has always been subject to cuts from producers worried that it was a butt-breaker, but Rossini insisted that it be performed as written. He was right: its massive two acts have a logic and flow that do not flag. Despite its size and difficulty (check the hefty list of sponsors and patrons in the booklet), the opera is being revived increasingly often. The work has been called the last Baroque opera, with its tragic plot from antiquity encrusted with glittering, highly ornamented arias, and you might suppose that a performance stands or falls with the singers. This version certainly offers strong ones, including the superb pair of sopranos Albina Shagimuratova in the title role and Daniela Barcellona in the travesti or cross-dressing role of the commander Arsace.